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sailor-aviator · 5 months

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Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Nine

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of death, Talk of losing a loved one, Mentions of drinking, Talk of Magic, Character Deaths, Graphic description of a dead body. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This...was a doozy lol Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The restaurant wasn’t as crowded as the other night, and you supposed that was due to the fact that it was the middle of the week. Penny was stationed behind the bar, cleaning out the glasses in between drink orders. You were cushioned between Jake and Natasha at the round table, picking at the fries left on Jake’s plate as he looked at you fondly. His arm rested on the back of the booth behind you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as you joked with the group.

“And then Bob over here decided that it would be a good idea to climb on top of this guy’s roof!” You grinned, earning a groan from the man in question.

“I hate this damn story,” he pouted, leaning back and running a hand over his face as the others peered over at him.

“Sweet, innocent Bobby climbed on top of some guy’s roof?” Bradley asked, leaning forward to look down the table at the blushing man.

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Bob grumbled.

“That was the drunkest I’ve ever seen him,” you told the group. “He kept saying something about being able to fly and something else about the cannonball to end all cannonballs, but I was just so focused on getting him down that I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Oh yeah?” Bob smirked, giving you a devious look that made the smile drop from your face. “And what about the time I had to haul your ass back to your apartment because you almost went skinny dipping with the sharks?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” he grinned, leaning towards you. “You were crying your eyes out for twenty minutes because you thought we were hurting their feelings by going home.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as the group broke out into fits of giggles, scowling at your best friend and his smug expression. You felt Jake shift next to you, placing a soft kiss to your temple before leaning back.

“Don’t worry, Angelfish,” he winked as you looked at him. “I’m sure you didn’t hurt their feelings.”

“I’m sure they were more upset they didn’t get an easy meal,” Bradley joked. “Although, they say that humans taste like plastic.”

“They?” You questioned. “You mean the sharks?”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I asked them once. Said that humans taste icky.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, “are you trying to tell me that you can talk to sharks?”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking,” Javy amended, casting a pointed look at Bradley who shrugged. “It’s more like, we can sense the intentions.”

“Like telepathy?” You asked.

“Sort of,” Reuben nodded. “It’s kind of hard to explain. It has a lot to do with the magic.”

“Huh,” you murmured thoughtfully, glancing at Bradley. “And they told you that people taste…icky?”

“That was the general vibe, yeah,” he shrugged. “I asked them one day after I ran into a group of them and they kept avoiding me.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just because it was you?” Nat asked with a raise of her eyebrow. “Maybe it’s just you who tastes icky.”

The rest of you burst into a fit of laughter as Bradley scowled, the noise dying down as a figure approached your table.

“Hey guys,” Cole grinned as he stopped in front of the table.

“Hey, Cole!” Mickey greeted, “what brings you by?”

“Did you wanna join us?” Reuben offered, Mickey and Javy already scootching in to make room on either side of the booth. Cole shook his head, raising his hand to stop them.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he smiled, eyes darting to you. “I was just coming by to pick up some lunch for me and my aunt when I saw you guys, and I figured I’d say hi.”

“Saw you chatting up some of the girls at the dance the other night,” Bradley said with a wolfish grin. “See anybody that caught your eye?”

“Maybe,” Cole smirked, looking at him. “Did you guys have a good time?”

“I thought all the costumes were really amazing,” you hummed, “but I didn’t get to see much of it, unfortunately.”

“That’s a shame,” Cole murmured with a frown. “Well, hopefully you’ll get to see more of the next one here in a couple of weeks.”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“The Moonlight Masquerade,” Bob supplied with a roll of his eyes. “It’s another costume party. Everybody gathers downtown to check out the local vendors, but the actual dancing is at city hall.”

“A perfect excuse to take you dress shopping again,” Natasha grinned as you wrinkled your nose.

“Are you going to let me pay for my own dress this time?” You asked, earning a short laugh from the brunette.

“Nope!” She grinned, popping the “P.” You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at her, turning your attention back to Cole.

“I don’t suppose your aunt will have more jewelry for me to wear?” You questioned, fingers curled around the pendant holding the black pearl that hung around your neck. You felt Jake press closer into your side, his arm moving down to encase you as Cole gave you a smirk.

“I’m sure she will.” he hummed, eyes shifting to look behind you at Jake with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “She just got a new shipment of masks in that we’re working on putting out today. Stop by soon before they’re all gone. I’ll even give you the friends and family discount.”

“That sounds great!” You chirped, turning to give Nat an excited look. She flashed you a quick smile in return, eyes quickly looking back up at Cole in curiosity.

“I didn’t know you had that discount,” she murmured, arching a brow. Cole shrugged good-naturedly.

“We don’t, but what my aunt doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by soon,” you assured him.

“It was good to see you all,” he smiled, giving a small wave before turning to collect his food from Penny. You all waved at him as he exited, turning back to your conversation.

“He’s always so nice,” you commented, earning a disgruntled hum from beside you.

“Maybe a little too nice,” Jake muttered with a frown. You raised an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“Are you jealous, crooner?” You teased, fighting the smile that threatened to overtake you. Jake scoffed, pressing his lips into a thin line as he looked at you.

“You gonna go and run off with him?”

You pretended to think about it, earning a less than amused look from the blond man sitting next to you. Finally, you shook your head, shooting him a wink. “Nah, I’ve already got great company right here.”

Jake let out a please hum this time, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your temple, earning a gag from across the table.

“You two are gross,” Bradley frowned, wrinkling his nose at the two of you. “Let’s go before I lose my lunch.”

You sat on the blanket that did little to shield you from the sand underneath, the sun casting a golden glow over the beach as it crept towards the horizon. It was just you on the blanket, the others running around with a football in some game they had made up years ago. You grinned as you watched them, laughing when Jake’s team scored and he yelled out in victory, the whoops and hollers from his teammates joining him. You reached for a bottle of water when you noticed Bradley trotting towards you, his skin slick with sweat as he collapsed beside you. Wordlessly, you handed him the water, turning your attention back towards the game as he took a long sip, catching his breath as he did so.

“Having fun?” He grinned up at you, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

“Oh, most definitely,” you grinned down at him, wiggling your eyebrows. He barked out a laugh as he laid down, resting his hands on his stomach. You turned your attention back to the game as the two of you sat in silence for a few moments.

“How are you feeling about everything?” He asked, turning his head to look at you.

“About what?” You countered, arching a brow.

“You know,” he prodded, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at you. “The true mate stuff.”

“Oh,” you breathed, glancing back at where the others were still heavily engrossed in their game. “I’m okay with it.”

“Oh yeah?” Bradley challenged, sitting up fully now. “Somehow I don’t think you’ve really thought about it like you should.”

“And you’re suddenly an expert?” You huffed, earning a half-hearted shrug.

“It’s serious shit, Skipper. None of us want to see either of you get hurt. True mates is nothing to shrug off.”

“Look,” you sighed, “I get that it’s a big deal, okay? But why do you care so much? How could we possibly get hurt?”

Bradley was quiet for a moment, a frown tugging on his lips as he stared off into the ocean. You were about to say something when he broke the silence.

“Did you know that the house Jake and I live in used to belong to my mom and dad?”

That grabbed your attention. You had met everyone else’s parents over the course of the past few weeks, but you had yet to meet Bradley’s. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t recall a time when he had talked about them either.

“I didn’t know that,” you said carefully, eyeing him wearily. He gave you a tight-lipped smile before continuing.

“Yeah, it’s the house I grew up in. My dad was a sea person, you know? He, Mav, and Ice used to be best friends growing up, and he actually grew up in the house himself. He and my mom knew each other since they were babies.”

“Were they true mates?” You asked him, bringing your knees up to your chin as you listened to him.

“They were,” he nodded, and there was a profound sense of sadness rolling off of him as he spoke. “My dad used to say that he knew she was his even before he knew he was a sea person. Said everyone around them knew they were in love before they knew what that meant.”

“That sounds like a fairytale,” you murmured, and Bradley let out a humorless chuckle.

“It was, I guess. My mom was the happiest person you’d ever meet, actually,” he rasped, a sad smile tugging at the edge of his lips at whatever memories played through his head. “She always had a smile and joke for someone, and my dad always called her ‘sunshine.’ He was a great guy too, you know. He’d always help out when he could, and I remember that he was really funny.”

“Oh, Bradley,” you whispered, tears kissing at your lashes. “Can I ask what happened?”

He was quiet for another moment.

“It was a hurricane,” he breathed, emotion thick in his voice. “I was fifteen at the time, and I remember Mav and Ice coming by the house to ask for his help down at the marina. My mom told him not to go, that she had a bad feeling, but my dad could never say no when someone needed his help.”

He took a shuddering breath, a hand coming up to wipe at his eyes, pushing his sunglasses up against his forehead before taking them off and letting them drop down onto the sand.

“I stayed up with my mom that night, sitting with her as she sat on the couch, just waiting for him to come home. But then, she got up and just started pacing, clawing at her throat like she couldn’t breathe, and I tried to get her to calm down, I really did,” he sniffed, and for a moment, he was transformed back into the fifteen year old boy he was when this happened. You reached out a hand, placing it gently on one of his as he continued on. “And then she just stopped, and it was like a light went out in her eyes. Then she let out this scream. I’ll never forget the sound of it, Skipper. Not for as long as I live. It was like someone reached inside her chest and ripped her heart out. It wasn’t until Ice and Mav showed up on our doorstep that I found out what happened.”

He looked at you then, a haunted look in his honey-colored eyes.

“Turns out,” he muttered, “that my dad had been trying to help some fishermen make it to shore, but the current got away from all of them. The boat smashed up against the rocks, pinning my dad and crushing him, and because of their bond, my mom felt every second of it. She felt it when he-”

He cut himself off, pressing his lips firmly together as if afraid to speak the word aloud. You squeezed his hand gently.

“When did your mom pass?” You asked quietly. Bradley stared at you for a second before letting out a bitter sounding laugh.

“She’s not dead, Skipper,” he murmured, causing you to blink in shock.

“What?”

“No, she’s very much alive,” he sighed, drawing patterns in the sand by his feet. “But she’s never been the same, and she might as well have died for how little she’s been present since it happened.”

You balked at the bitterness in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he spat, “that when my dad died, the part of her that made her her did too. She hasn’t been able to utter a single word since it happened, and from that day, I was on my own. I took care of her for years because she was just this empty shell. She didn’t laugh, or smile, or love anymore. Then my grandparents, her parents, made plans to move to Florida, and they made the arrangements to take her with them. I got to keep the house and everything and invited Jake to move in with me because I couldn’t stand the thought of being there by myself. I wouldn’t.”

You didn’t even notice that you had started crying until Bradley looked up at you, grimacing as he reached up to wipe your tears away.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Skipper,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, honest. I just wanted you to know what you were getting yourself into. I want you to think about what you’re risking if you agree to all of this.”

“I know,” you sniffled, “and I appreciate you telling me all that, Bradley, I do.”

Bradley nodded silently, and you reached over to wrap him up in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you told him. “It sounds like they really loved each other.”

He gave you a short squeeze back. “They did.”

The sound of your friends growing closer had you shifting your focus forward just as Jake dropped down at your other side, pulling you close to place a smacking kiss to your forehead.

“Gross!” You giggled, pushing him away. “You’re all sweaty, get away from me!”

He feigned hurt as his green eyes twinkled with mischief. He reached out for you, pulling you closer and rubbing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Ah, but Angelfish,” he smirked, “I thought you’d miss me!”

“Not when you’re gross!” You shrieked, trying in vain to pull away from him. He let out a laugh as you made a disgusted face at him, the two of you dissolving into a mess of giggles.

“Is he fucking giggling?” Mickey asked Nat, giving Jake an incredulous look. “Since when does golden boy giggle?”

“Since he fell in love!” Nat sing-songed in a teasing voice, laughing as Jake flipped both of them off. You chanced a glance at Bradley only to find that he was back to his usual happy self, not a trace of the sadness that had just surrounded him. You shifted your focus back to Jake who was looking at you quizzically.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

“Just peachy, Crooner,” you smiled, pecking his cheek. He chased after you as you pulled away, placing a firm, sweet kiss to your lips. You hummed happily against him, hearing a gagging sound from off to the side.

“You two are disgusting,” Javy remarked, rolling his eyes. You pulled away from Jake to give him a knowing look.

“You’re one to talk,” you told him, smirking. The others looked back and forth between the two of you as Nat shifted nervously.

“What are you talking about?” Reuben asked, earning a half hearted shrug from you.

“Oh, nothing,” you giggled, a saccharine smile on your face as you batted your eyes innocently. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

You walked alongside Bob down the cool sands of the beach towards his home, the last remnants of the sun fading below the horizon.

“What did you and Bradley talk about?” He asked you, glancing at you curiously. “Seemed pretty serious.”

You didn’t answer right away, unsure as to how much Bradley had actually told the others.

“He was telling me about his parents,” you decided on. You heard Bob suck in a breath as the two of you continued walking.

“He’s never told us the whole story, you know,” Bob murmured. “All we know is that his dad died one night and his mom was never the same after that. He missed some school because of it, too. We tried to get him to talk about it once, but he just brushed us off and acted like he was okay. Eventually, we stopped pushing him to.”

“I think it still really affects him,” you said quietly. “He told me the whole story. I guess he thought I needed to hear it in order to make an informed decision about what to do.”

“And what is it you want to do, Skip?” He asked, looking over at you now. You considered his words.

“I suppose,” you hummed, “that I’m not exactly sure yet. I have a lot to think about now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, grimacing slightly. “That’s fair.”

“How are you feeling about all of this?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He rolled his eyes at you.

“You two are disgusting,” he scoffed. “Why don’t you two get a room?”

“We agreed to take it slow,” you shrugged, causing Bob to belt out a laugh as he almost tripped into the sand.

“You could have fooled all of us!” He snickered, earning a scowl from you. You punched his arm lightly, trying in vain to hold back your smile.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you giggled. He swung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close by your neck as you squawked in protest.

“Just gotta tell my best friend how it is,” he beamed. You went to respond, but let out a grunt as Bob stopped short, nearly making you trip over your own feet. The smile was gone from his face as he narrowed his eyes in confusion at something ahead of the two of you. You turned to try and see what he was looking at. Up ahead, a large lump lay amidst the sand, and the two of you pulled apart to make your way slowly up to the mysterious object.

The clouds rolled out from in front of the moon, illuminating the beach with the pale rays. Your heart stopped as the object became clear. It was a girl, that much was plain. She wore no clothing, and her skin was pale. Her torso was practically hallowed out, deep, angry claw marks etched into her bloated skin, her familiar blue eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fear. Her lips were still parted as if she had been killed mid-scream, a gaping hole in her neck that made the contents of your stomach churn.

Mandy.

Her brown hair still clung to her face from the water, and you heard Bob let out a curse beside you. That was when you heard the screaming, a panicked, high-pitched wailing echoing along the beach. Your eyes were still trained on the body in front of you, her limbs twisted in an unnatural fashion. Your hands gripped at Bob’s arm, and you felt him run a hand over your hair as the screaming continued. Shouts could be heard coming from the street, and you felt the fresh, hot tears cascading down your face as the voices grew closer. It wasn’t until Bob pulled you into his arms, cradling your head close to his chest that you realized that it was you who was screaming. Your screams died down, turning into violent sobs as you clung to Bob, unable to block out the image of Mandy lying there, even after you closed your eyes.

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#meet me at the sea #mmats #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman top gun

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blughxreader · 1 year

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hi! i dont think i can ever get enough of yan! platonic! Batfam 🥲 can i get a neglected reader who has successfully escaped, only to come back to gotham by some unprecedented causes a few years later? i have plans to write a fic like this and want some inspiration (and to fill the yandere batfam tag)

Platonic Yandere!Bruce, Dick, Jason with a darling who escaped and returned to Gotham

Headcanons, WC: 1,048

Notes: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! This ask is five months old lol. I had to cut out the baby boys to finish </3 If I can come up with ideas for Damian and Tim then I'll add to it.

Bruce

The weight of Bruce’s mistakes hangs over his head every day, but his mistakes with you are by-far the heaviest.

He should have appreciated you more. He should have told you what you meant to him. Instead, he let you feel invisible. It kills him.

When you’re spotted in Gotham years later, he can hardly believe it.

He’ll drop everything and go straight to you, deploying all the boys to ensure you don’t slip away. If it’s daytime, Bruce Wayne will make a rare appearance and corner you with paparazzi, and if it’s nighttime, then Batman will swipe you off the streets before you can cry out.

He’ll forgive every outburst you give. You’re furious and he understands—he considers your anger entirely his fault so he’ll give you a lot of slack.

Bruce will drown you in gifts. Because Batman takes up so much time (and it was lack of attention that drove you away in the first place) he’ll try every means at demonstrating his love. Gifts, vacation homes, front row seats to events (with strict supervision).

This version of Bruce would keep you under 50 cameras and a body guard at all times, but he’s also very conscious of your mental health. Where he’d be able to guiltlessly lock you up forever if he hasn’t neglected you, he can’t in this timeline. Your life would be heavily supervised, but you’d also get a lot of perks.

He would make a routine with you.

Every morning, he’d eat breakfast with you, and every Friday would be a special dinner with just the two of you. His hours are valuable so it means a lot for him to carve out the time just for you.

Dick Grayson

Dick prides himself on his strong leadership and generosity. Ask anyone whose ever met Dick to describe him, and they could list pages of positive traits. So it's a wonder how you, his precious little darling, managed to be overlooked by him.

Guilt literally eats him alive. Dick begins to second-guess every interaction with you, going over all clues he might have missed. He throws himself into the investigation looking for you, investigating every single fact you've ever mentioned about yourself.

When you finally return, he's dead-set on making up for lost time.

Dick wouldn’t approve of your reasoning for leaving. You should have told him--should have insisted on being heard--instead of leaving. He feels terrible that you were neglected, but he feels worse knowing that you’d rather be thrown to the wolves than seek their help.

It's a steep learning curve for him to realize you're not the lonely child you once were, but instead a bitter, jaded young adult who confides in only themself.

Dick drowns you in attention. He tries forcing your innocence back, not accepting your refusals and anger. You're still so young, and even if the sparkling child-like hope is missing from your eyes, Dick still believes he can make things right.

Family bonding time is a must. He arranges play-time with you and Damian. He insists on Sunday movie nights. He learns how to cook new dishes with you and Alfred. He will keep you busy.

These activities are only a surface solution for a deeper problem. Fundamentally, you've changed, and Dick knows this. He has no idea how to treat you now, so he resorts to what he does know--your childhood he missed out on.

Jason Todd

Jason is particularly torn. He knows what its like to feel abandoned, yet he realized too late that he was the perpetrator.

When you are finally back in the arms of the Batfamily, Jason has no idea what role to take in your life. He sees you turning down the family when they offer love and he doesn't know if his heart could take your rejection.

Jason is stand-offish. Playing the role of "tough older brother" doesn't bode well, so he needs time to rework his philosophy on handling siblings.

Instead, he does your bidding. He would help fix whatever unprecedented reasons that led you to return to Gotham, no questions asked. If you need to pass a letter on to a friend, Jason is your guy. His regular possessive yandere tendencies are hampered by his guilt, so he'll be very lenient with you as long as it's nothing dangerous.

The fact that you escape and survived by yourself cast you into a new light in Jason’s eyes. He thinks you’re impressive, dependable, capable. He wonders how he didn’t see it sooner.

That being said—you’re his little sibling. You shouldn’t have to be so strong, and Jason wants to ensure you’ll never have another reason to protect yourself.

He hopes that over time, you'll trust him. He wants to be able to sit with you and talk about whatever is on your mind, to be able to hug you as he leaves for work, and to send you off to bed when it's late.

But right now, you need space. He'll let you heal, and he'll take whatever anger you give him. Because he knows that this is the only way you'll let him into your life again.

Bonus: Y/N

Considering Y/N was clever enough to escape the Waynes while also having the willpower to return to Gotham shows that they’re intelligent, good-hearted, and forged from steel.

They probably rank somewhere between lawful-good to chaotic-neutral. (A lawful-neutral would be infuriated by the Waynes’ underhanded tactics, and probably wouldn’t return to Gotham.)

Y/N is done yearning for attention (or, if they were originally kidnapped, done with playing nice), so they’re immune to the Batfam’s manipulation.

Upon first glance at the Batfam after all those years, they’d immediately go fight or flight. Y/N would pull every dirty trick in the book to escape, and would be as hateful as possible to kill any affection they have for them.

After being kidnapped, Y/N gets very good at playing mind games and deflecting their submission tactics. They’d be able to manipulate the household like a giant game of chess.

Y/N’s only weakness is the child inside of them that still cries for their family’s approval.

The conflict revolves around how the Batfam can extort this weakness vs. how well Y/N can stay true to their values.

#batfam x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere batman #yandere bruce waybe #dick grayson x reader #platonic yandere batman #jason todd x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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littlexscarletxwitch · 5 months

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── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝘁, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗲

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): smut with plot but not really, a bit of angst but then again not really, nsfw, wlw sex

warning(s): MDNI, +18 ONLY read at your own risk, explicit wlw smut, wlw sex, oral sex, kinda toxic relationship, mentions of drinking alcohol, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 3k

note: I'M SO SORRY GUYS IT SOOOO LOOOONG. College had been kicking my ass. Agh! I need a break from that shit. Anyways... I was actually going to make the smut part longer but I kinda didn't want to ruin it, so this is what you get lol. Also I literally googled the russian pet names, so please correct me if they are wrong. I hope you all like it! Lots of love, M <3

note 2: I got so many requests and I'm so glad you guys asked me to write your ideas, I really appreciate that. It's going to take me so time but I WILL WRITE THEM and I'm so excited about them. Love the way you guys think lol <3

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

⇨ Detka: baby - Moya lyubov: my love - Malishka: little girl - Krasotka: gorgeous

You knew this whole thing was wrong, it was a toxic never ending cycle, but still you could never help yourself when it came to her.

You and Yelena were together for three years, three years filled with love and lust and happiness; but then your relationship became hateful, bitter and full of anger, still the lust between the two of you remained the same.

Allegedly, the two of you had broken up 5 months ago. Allegedly, you resented her for the shit she put you through. Allegedly, you didn’t even want to see her face.

Nevertheless, she always found her way back to you, —back to your bed—. The moment her lips made contact with yours, you knew you had lost all sense of reason. How could you restrain yourself when her hips grazed against yours in a slowly almost painful yet divine pace that had you arching your back and curling your toes?

“Fuck,” you breathed out, as her hands thighten the frim grip on your waist.

You always promised yourself it would be the last time, that it was just your body reacting to hers, that you would be strong the next time and would turn her down. It took you a couple more slips to finally understand that you and Yelena were done, that the two of you were through. But you finally came to your senses.

“You do know this is the last time, right?” you said breathless, feeling your quick heartbeat in your eardrums.

You sword to yourself that would be the last time you let yourself give in to her. Just one more night of pleasure, just one more night of kisses and whimperings and moans, and the next day it would be over.

“Yeah, I know,” though her voice was muffled by your cunt you could still make out the sarcastic tone in her voice.

“I mean it, Yel,” you tried to sound serious, and apparently you did because she lifted up her head for her eyes to find yours.

“I know you do,” and she did know. She knew that you meant it, at that specific moment.

But she also knew your statement wouldn’t last long, that you would soon change your mind and her lips would find their way back to your neck, hips, thighs and cunt.

So she allowed you to think it was over, but it will be over once she decided so.

[...]

It’d been a year since you had last seen her, you thought that was it, that the two of you had moved on at last. But maybe you got it all wrong, maybe all the things she made you feel enhanced by being away from her, maybe you forced yourself to forget about her. But there was no point in trying it, for she had made a mark on your heart. Like a tattoo, always under skin even when it gets removed.

But tonight was supposed to be different, you were supposed to have fun, drink and dance with your girl friends. But for some odd reason you couldn't stop thinking about the blonde. You would mess around with some people, but you found yourself thinking that it wasn’t her hands roaming around your body, or her lips leaving kisses and bites all over your neck, it wasn't her scent and it most certainly wasn’t her hoarse voice reaching your ears.

As you and your friends made your way to the bar, you heard your phone ringing. Even before you took a look at the screen you were 100% sure that it was her calling you, who else could it be then?

Your heart picked up its pace as you looked at the ID caller and your suspicions were confirmed. It was at that moment that you realised that you had never blocked or deleted her contact number.

Before you could answer or decline the call, it stopped. You swallowed down the lump that hard formed on your throat, unsure of what would be next. And soon after it stopped you got a text from her, you were about to read it when you noticed that someone was calling out for you.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you said, quickly putting away your phone, trying to focus on your friend’s words over the loud music.

“We have to use the restroom. Let’s go,” she said, reaching out for your hand, motioning for you to tag along.

“No,” you step back, away from her reach. “I, um,” you felt your phone burning your hand. “I’m going to get some air, okay?” you noticed she wanted to say something against it, so you quickly added: “I’ll be right back, I promise,” you smiled at them, before making your way out of the club before they would follow after you.

Once the cold air of the night filled your lungs you felt like you could finally breathe properly. You looked at her missed call and her text message on your phone screen, it was simple: an address. You knew what that meant, but you weren’t sure of what you should do. As if sensing your doubt, she called you again. The phone kept on ringing in your hand, as you made up your mind.

Seeing her tonight was a bad idea, right? Yes, you might not be really drunk but the alcohol was messing with your brain and you were not thinking straight. Plus, your friends were going to kill you for meeting her.

Seeing her tonight was a bad idea, right? You weren’t just going to throw away the last year and pretend like nothing had happened.

Seeing her would be a bad idea, right? But your mind had other plans as the memories of her soft lips and her rough hands and her raspy voice all came rushing to your brain, and suddenly it was all you could think of.

Seeing her tonight…? Fuck it, it’s fine, was your only thought as you picked up the call.

“Hello, detka.”

The old pet name sent a silver up your spine, still you were yet to form a coherent thought.

“I missed you,” she paused, waiting for you to say something. “Did you miss me?” she tried again. Still, you weren’t answering her, but she knew you were listening carefully to every word. “You know? I’m all alone right now. I wouldn’t mind some company.”

You could sense the undertone she was using, you were no fool to her tactics, even though you would always fall for them. That was the kind of power Yelena had over you, everytime you would do so much as think about her your brain would just shut down and you wouldn’t be able to hear your own thoughts.

“No,” you stated firmly. Shaking your head even though she could not see you.

“Oh, baby. What’s the matter? You want me to pick you up?” you could hear the jiggling of some set of keys. Your heart stopped for a second, was she really that desperate to come and pick you up? You felt your stomach burning.

“This is… This is not right, Yelena. I shouldn't have picked up the call. I should probably not—.”

“Oh, come on, moya lyubov,” again with the russian nickname that would make your knees weak. “How about this, I pick you up, we get some coffee and we just have a quick chitchat?”

You knew that it never was so simple with Yelena, but you felt your walls crashing down.

“I’m not sure, Yel…” it felt weird to pronounce that nickname after so long.

“Look up, pretty girl.”

You felt your stomach sink as you did as you were told. And there she was, in all her glory. You didn’t even question how she knew exactly where you were, Yelena just knew stuff. You knew she was your ex, but she said it was just a quick chat, can’t two people reconnect? You knew you were stronger now to her advances, you were pretty sure you only saw her as a friend. But, in all honesty, you knew you were full of shit.

Without a word, you sent a text to your friends, put your phone in your purse and got into the car, wrecking all your plans. You knew you should just stop, but you couldn't. You cursed yourself for that, she knew you too well and you hated both yourself and Yelena for that.

As soon as you took the passengers sit, Yelena sped up the car and the two of you left the building and your friends behind.

“I did miss you, Y/n,” was the first thing she said as she rested her hand on your thigh.

She knew how much you loved it when she did that.

“Mmm,” you muttered, unsure of what your answer should be.

“Didn’t you miss me?” she jokingly asked as she gently squeezed your skin.

“What do you want, Yel?”

“I thought I told you,” she quickly took a look at you before looking back at the road. “I just want to chat, that’s all.”

“It’s never that simple with you.”

“Well, maybe this time it is. Maybe this time I want things to be different,” she smiled at you, making your heart skip a beat. She still had that kind of power over you and you hated her even more for that. But not really.

You gently shook your head. It was bad, you shouldn’t have picked up the call, you shouldn't have gotten into the car. You should have thought things more clearly before letting her into your life again.

As you were mentally cursing yourself you didn’t realise that the two of you had already made it to whatever place she had driven the two of you. Realisation hit you as you now had now idea where the fuck you were, you had no other choice but to follow her. Or so you told yourself.

Yelena opened the car door for you and stretched her hand out for you to take. Which you did, you didn’t even fight it, you longed for the contact of her skin against yours. And maybe, just maybe, you thought it would be enough, just by intertwining your fingers in between hers. But, god, you were wrong.

You knew the moment you would step through her front door all sense of reason would leave your mind, and it would only remain the lust and feel of belonging you always felt around her. And you were right, the soon you stepped in, it was like you were that same person a year ago and you had no intention in fighting your feelings, not anymore. You thought maybe you deserve it, as a reward for being all this time apart from each other.

As soon as you entered it was as if you could feel Yelena everywhere. It wasn’t just the fact that she was there next to you with her hand in between yours, but you could all also smell her scent all over her place, you could see her in the furniture she had chosen, hear her in the music that was playing, and even though you had yet to taste her lips you were so overwhelmed by her entire being that it felt as if you already had.

“So, um,” she cleared her throat as she closed the door behind the two of you, getting your attention. “Would you like some coffee…?”

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you mumbled to yourself once more before dropping your purse and shortening the distance and crashing your lips against hers.

Yelena’s hand quickly found their way to your hips, gently squeezing your flesh earning a low groan out of you. She pulled away gasping for air but the next second her lips were back on yours. You moaned into her lips as her tongue easily slipped into your mouth and found yours to mess around with.

You felt a warm feeling in your stomach as her hands roamed all over your body leaving goosebumps on their way. Then they rested on your ass, grabbing the muscle motioning for you to jump on top of her, which you did without a second thought. The feeling became a small fire in your stomach the moment your chest was pressed against hers.

“I knew you would come back,” she mumbled in between your lips, feeling her grin into the kiss.

As a response you bit her bottom lip, not really sure what you meant by that but it felt good when you heard a low moan escape from her lips.

“Don’t push your luck,” you said once you let go of it, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Yeah, you’re right, krasotka,” her thick russian was only fuel to the growing fire in your stomach.

Her lips found the crook of your neck and she left as many bites and kisses as she pleased, leading the two of you to her bedroom. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your fingers found their way in between her hair.

Once in her bedroom, Yelena gently laid you on her bed. As her lips made their way down to your collarbone, her hand tugged at the hem of your dress slowly and painfully bringing it up to your waist.

On command, you spread your leg open letting Yelena’s head take the place in between your thighs. She kissed and bit them, her lips ghosted over the area where you needed her the most, but all you got was her hot breath which sent a shiver up your spine and made you groan out her name.

“Stop with the teasing,” you begged her, as your legs rested on her shoulders.

“Tell me what you need,” she breathed out.

“I need you… I need your lips on me,” it almost came out as a moan.

And she did as she was told, but it wasn’t quite what you wanted. Her lips kissed and licked your core, but it wasn’t enough since the area was still being covered by your panties. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yelena, please…” you begged her once again.

“Shh…” she cooed as her fingers tugged at the hem of your underwear and slowly pushed it out of the way. “Is this where you need my lips, malishka,” her hot breath over your now uncovered cunt ripped a moan out of your mouth.

“Yes, yes, just please do something. Please, Yel, I—,” a whimper cut you off as you felt her tongue licked up your slit. “Fuck,” you could feel your heartbeat going a mile per hour.

Her tongue went up and down a few times, tasting your juices, loving who wet you were for her. She then made sure to give your clit as much attention, so she wrapped her lips around it and sucked hard. You felt your leg trembling on her shoulders as she worked her magic on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you were a moaning mess, the fire in your stomach felt like it was taking over your entire body and you only wanted to give in, to let it consume you whole —to let Yelena consume you whole—.

You wrapped your legs around her head, bringing her even closer to you. The thought of her suffocating on your count scared you for half a second, but then as she ate you like a starving woman, the thought only added more to your arousal.

Yelena took a quick look at you: eyes closed, lips slightly trembling and parted, brows furrowed, your leg around her head, your hand flying to meet her hair. She wanted that moment to last forever, she wanted to be forever buried in between your legs if it only meant she could see you like this. But she could not stop time and live forever in that moment, so she could only moan at your sight. And that was what it took for you to finally come undone in her lips.

You cried out her name as your leg almost squeezed her head too harshly, but she could take it. A few curses followed her name as her tongue and lips helped you right out your high.

“I missed this, malishka,” she said breathlessly as you unwrapped your legs around her.

Her nose, lips and chin were glistening from your release, you felt something like a match lighting up inside you once again. Much to your dismay she used the back of her hand to clean some of it, which she noticed that it had bothered you since you slightly frown. She chuckled at just how cute and precious you were.

She crawled on top of you, placing her knee in between your legs and her lips found yours. You moaned as you tasted yourself on her lips and tongue, feeling the fire coming back to life.

“I missed you… so much,” she said in between kisses. “Tell me… you missed me too…”

Drunk on her scent, lips and words you couldn’t think properly. But still the words you blurted out were the truth: “I did… I missed you too…”

“Then we should… make up for… the time we lost…'' she said as her hand expertly tugged down the cleavage of your dress, she smiled to herself as she realised you weren’t wearing a bra.

She trailed a path of kiss from your neck, down to your collarbone to finally end with her lips sucking your right nipple.

“Yeah, we should…” you breathed out.

“Then, we are going to be here for a while,” she said, her words were muffled by your tit inside her mouth.

You giggled at her words but then it turned into a moan as she went on sucking.

You knew the whole thing would fire back eventually, but your head was empty, blank, no reasonable thoughts. Just one that it keep you going and that was the only thought you were willing to listen to: ‘Fuck it, it’s fine.’

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#yelena belova #yelena belova x fem reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova smut #florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh imagine #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #[🎧⊹♡] based on songs i love #Spotify

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the-kr8tor · 6 months

Text

Speed Drive

🎉500 celebration fic🎉

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 6.2k

Synopsis: You come along with Hobie on a road trip to Glasgow. Aka the fic where I squeezed in multiple dream dates of mine lol

Tags: Use of Y/N sparingly, no specific physical description of the reader, cw food mention, reader is a history nerd (definitely not projecting), the reader can't drive, sunshine! Reader. Suggestive content, lovestruck Hobie, Established relationship. FLUFF.

A/n: I did some research on the places they went to, if there are any inaccuracies on the geography/ information, please note that I've never been to any of these places, I'm only basing my knowledge on what I've researched and what I've studied in uni.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms and copy and pasted on any ai software*

Navigation

Masterlist

You grunt as you lift the heavy amp, back straightened so you don't accidentally sprain yourself. Waddling towards Hobie's van, amp sitting heavily near your waist. The sun is just about rising on the horizon, painting the pavement deep blue. The water laps at the house boat's side, the sound familiar, adding to the relaxed atmosphere where you and Hobie are the only ones awake in the entire city. The early morning air nips at your skin, leaving goosebumps on the back of your neck.

Suddenly, strong familiar arms wrap around the amp. "What are you doin'? Told you I've got them" Hobie clicks his tongue, taking the amp from you.

He's annoyed but not at you, he's irritated that he got the short end of the stick, ending up waking up early (too early) to load the instruments. You don't take it to heart, knowing his annoyance isn't because of you. It would've been better if he just helped his band mates load them in, but lady luck wasn't on his side. Unfortunately he also got driving duties, now he has to drive seven hours to get to Glasgow for the band's very first big gig. Leaving the rest of the band to take (a very comfortable) train ride at a later hour. Hobie's a bit jealous on that end, he would've liked for you to see the sights on a train instead of sitting on his old van that creaks when he steers a little too far to the left.

The only silver lining about the impromptu road trip is you. Seven hours on the road with just you is pure bliss, if only he didn't have to wake up in this ungodly hour, he would've been in a better mood.

"Sorry, you were busy loading in the drums. Thought I would help" you look up at him through equally tired eyes. A cloud of breath escaping when you talk. Hobie zips your jacket further up, keeping you warm.

He heaves the amp on one arm, effortlessly carrying it. "Don't be, you're just trying to help." Hobie feels guilty for clicking his tongue at you. He holds your cold hand, sharing his warmth.

"You're definitely not a morning person" you squeeze his hand. "grumpy" bringing his hand to your lips, you leave a chaste kiss over his knuckles. "Is that the last one?"

"Think so," he looks around the area, finding nothing else to load inside the van. "Don't forget to bring in the thermos, you're turning into an icicle"

"Okay, I made us sandwiches" you smile at him, swinging your intertwined hands.

"What kind?" He stomps down his grumpy demeanor at the sound of breakfast.

"Lots!" You grin excitedly at him, Hobie wonders where you got your sudden burst of energy.

"Fuckin' hell, no wonder why you were up so late. You made every conceivable sandwich in the world" he jokes, your happy energy spreading to him.

You chuckle, "not every single one. You have the first pick for waking up so early"

"Yeah? Even though you threatened to splash me with water?" He raises a pierced brow, a smile curling on his lips.

You wince, "yeah, sorry. It finally got you to wake up though!"

"Yeah, yeah, and here I thought you would wake me up with a kiss"

"I did! Like five fucking times. You wouldn't even stir, I got desperate, okay!" You laugh, it echoes around the silent neighborhood.

"I believe you, can you get our bags from inside? I'll warm up the van" Hobie reluctantly lets go of your hand. You feel cold already.

"Get it nice and toasty for me?"

"What are you? Banana bread?"

"Funny" you point at him playfully, walking backwards.

"Don't forget the bloody Thermos!" He yells after you, following you with his gaze, making sure you don't trip because you decided to walk backwards.

You wink at him, "okay, dad!"

"Lil shit" he says with a smile.

—

Munching on your sandwich, Hobie cranked up the heating, you're now warm and toasty in your seat. The leather squeaks when you move to feed Hobie a bite of your sandwich. He *insists that he prefers yours even though you made an identical one. Hobie's free hand is glued to your thigh, squeezing it from time to time, making sure you don't fall asleep on him.

Hobie keeps his eyes on the road, trying to take a bite of the sandwich that you've teasingly moved a few inches away from his waiting mouth.

He bites at air, "Oi, what the fuck" you snicker, biting your lip. Hobie immediately figures out what you're doing, "don't make me swerve this fucking car into that ditch"

"Jeez, okay!" You laugh, leaning closer (as much as the seat belt would allow you to) Hobie takes a generous bite, "you're still grumpy? Do you need more coffee?" You rub at the corner of his mouth with your thumb, cleaning the bread crumbs. He hums appreciatively.

"I don't think that coffee's workin' too well" he says while chewing. "We're not even out of the city yet" Hobie huffs.

"Do you want me to drive for a bit?" You wait for his reaction with a tiny smirk.

"You haven't got a license," He says matter-of-fact, "you don't even know how to drive" he doesn't sound condescending or making fun of you, his voice laced with endearment. He makes a mental note to teach you once you two get back home. His fingers pinches you through your pants.

"I'm a fast learner" you joke, Hobie cracks a sleep deprived smile, oh he's definitely not a morning person. "Give it time, you basically drank the entire thermos. Maybe some music could help?"

"If it's your music, I'm gonna fall asleep on the wheel" He squeezes your thigh, just in case you didn't get his joke.

"If it's your music, It's going to burst my eardrums this early in the morning" you quip back.

"Nice. Sandwich me, love" he opens his mouth, darting his eyes from the road to you before his gaze goes back to watching the road.

You lean again, holding up the almost finished sandwich. "Do you know who invented the sandwich?" Hobie eats the entire thing in one bite, almost taking your fingers off. You glare playfully at him.

He chuckles, mouth full. "No, who?"

"Lord Sandwich, the fourth earl of Sandwich in the eighteenth century"

"You're fucking with me" Hobie takes a left turn, the van creaks, instruments in the back sliding a bit. You watch his hand turn the steering wheel, mesmerized by how his large hand grips the wheel. His rings don't help, you tilt your head, watching intently.

He pinches your thigh, getting your attention. "Hey, where'd you go?"

"Sorry, I was trying to recall the rest of the fact" you blink back to reality.

"Will you be like this the entire trip? Watching my bloody hands, you perv" He read you like an open book.

"What– I wasn't, okay! I was–" you fumble with your words.

He has a playful smirk on his lips. "You were what? Fantasizing my hands wrapped around your–"

"Stop!" You hold his hand that's on your thigh, so he could stop his teasing.

"What? I was gonna say 'wrapped around your hand', honestly what did you think I was gonna say?" He asks you playfully, shoving your shoulder lightly.

"it's too early for this shit" you mumble with a playful pout, intertwining your fingers with his.

He laughs, eyes crinkling into a smile. Hobie brings your hand to his lips, placing a quick peck on your warm hand. "Ah, too early for it? Maybe later then?"

You groan but your smile and the twinkle in your eyes says otherwise.

"What were you talking about? 'Bout the sandwich bloke?"

"John Montagu, he invented the sandwich because he didn't have time to eat a proper meal while he was playing cards and working."

"Bloody rich lord" he grumbles with malice.

"Hey, if not for him you wouldn't be eating one of my Sandwiches"

"I love eating your sandwich" he raises a teasing brow, proud of his innuendo.

"What is up with you this morning?" You laugh, playing with one of his rings, twirling the metal around his index finger. "Seriously, did I accidentally make you coffee with something in it? Is that why it says 'special' in the packaging?"

Hobie laughs loudly, echoing around the van. "You think they'd put an aphrodisiac in coffee?" He lets go of your hand for a bit while he steers the wheel with both hands. "Like ginkgo biloba or somethin'?"

You reach for his free hand immediately after he lets go of the wheel to lay it back on your thigh. "No like pistachio nuts or–" you try to think of another example, "— crab" you giggle when the word escapes your lips.

"Crab?!" He rides with your bit. "Must be some expensive bloody coffee, lovey" Hobie rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "No wonder I tasted something fishy in that coffee"

You gasp, feigning offense. "You did not!" contributing to the bit.

"Now who's crabby this morning, huh?" He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his pun, "argh, can't believe I have to endure seven more hours of this" teasing him, your sentence has no ounce of truth in it whatsoever. More than happy to accompany him on the trip.

"It'll be the best seven hours of your life, sweets" He looks at you through the rearview mirror with a smirk.

You can read him like a book too. Narrowing your eyes, you can just tell he has something planned, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

"You've got something up your sleeves? Spill it, Hobart"

He sideways glances at you, hiding his knowing smile. "Don't know what you're on about" Hobie clears his throat, playing it cool.

"Nope, I know you, babe. That fucking smirk of yours, I know it!" You lightly poke at his cheek.

"Lovey, I haven't got a scooby doo. I'm just here drivin' trying to get us to Glasgow"

"You get very detailed when you're lying. I know your tells!"

"That so?" He makes a mental note of what you've said, which might be handy the next time he has a surprise. Hobie opens the radio, cd already inside, it plays a loud tune, drowning out your questions.

"Hey!" You yell through the loud music. Hobie almost gives himself away with a laugh, he bites his lip to stifle it. "Whatever– wherever you're planning to stop at some backroad tourist attraction, we better not be too late for the show!"

Hobie cranks the volume up, "What? Can't hear you through the music" he gestures towards his ear.

You press the 'volume down' button, covering your ears. Now you're definitely both wide awake. "You're an ass, you can't have any more of my sandwiches" huffing, you grab a ziplock of sandwich just to tease him more.

Banter fills the van, laughs and flirty words entertain you until sleep comes back to haunt you. Unexpectedly falling asleep, Hobie lets you snooze away in his passenger seat. Avoiding potholes, slowing down when passing a speed bump. He even uses his arm to act as your second seat belt whenever he turns sharply, hand cradling your head so you don't fall off the headrest.

Hobie has the urge to wake you though, but he needs you at full energy for what he's planning on taking you. Eyes drifting to the van's console, he gazes at your camera, taking a mental note to remember to give you the extra roll of films he bought for you.

—

Hobie shuts off the engine, eyes bleary, he clicks the seatbelt off of him. He has the urge to close his eyes and join you in slumberland. One look at your sleeping face almost pushes him off the edge.

He leans closer to you, hand cupping your jaw, he taps your face with his thumb. "Love" you don't stir, eyes still closed. Hobie's so attuned to you that he knows you're not faking it.

He kisses you chastely, warm lips puckering to wake you up. Hobie calls your name this time, poking your cheek. You still sleep, lips slightly parted. He's absolutely jealous of you right now. Peppering your face with kisses, he fully intends to wake you up. Defeated, you still lay asleep.

A bright idea pops up in his mind. Pulling away, Hobie grips the steering wheel with both hands, arms length away from him. He screams bloody murder like he's about to hit a wall.

You jump away, yelling for a second before seeing the parking lot bare, van parked safely. You clutch your chest, eyes now wide awake. Slapping his arm, you glare at him. Hobie has a shit-eating grin on his face, arm raised to shield himself. His laugh echoes.

"You fucker!" Slap "I could've" slap "gotten a heart attack!" You huff with a pout.

"I'm sorry, c'mere" he tries to hug you, standing your ground, you cross your arms on your chest. "You wouldn't wake up! I'm sorry, please?" Hobie flexes his fingers, face apologetic.

"Are we here? Did I sleep the entire time?"

"No, lovey. We're at a stopover" he points outside with his head. "'m really sorry. If there's any consolation I think you'll like this place"

Your eyes zero in on the sign, reading it loudly, "Stratford Upon-Avon?!" Screeching excitedly. You click off your seat belt with urgency, with the intention of leaving Hobie hanging as revenge. You'll kiss him thank you later anyway.

Opening the door, you step off, stretching your legs and breathing in fresh air. Warmer air greets you, a much kinder one from a few hours ago. Trainers bouncing off in excitement. Greenery and old timey Houses fill your vision, adding to your eagerness.

Hobie joins your side, your sling bag over his broad shoulder. Hiding his disappointment from your lack of hug, he only blames himself for scaring the crap out of you.

"Y/n." The lack of the term of endearment alerts you, whirling around, you see his shoulders slumped, face clearly hiding his true feelings behind a straight face. You know he'll feel worse if you don't try to reassure him. So you do, hand signaling him to hold yours.

He blames the early morning for making him all lovesick, if it was the later hours, Hobie would've stuck to teasing you about your reaction. With a sigh and a weak roll of his eyes, he steps in your arms instead of just holding your hand, head resting on your shoulder, yawning as you knead his aching back; you indulge him.

Good thing it's still too early for tourists to flock the area, save for a few scattered ones looking for a place to have breakfast at.

"Apology accepted," leaning back, you straighten the knots on his forehead. "You need better coffee" you scrunch your nose at his closed eyes.

"Or sleep" he grumbles.

"Do you want to sleep for a bit inside the van?" You feel bad for sleeping the entire time. "I'll stay with you don't worry. I won't fall asleep this time."

He shakes his head, slapping his own face to wake himself up. Jumping up and down with you still in his arms. You don't question it, jumping along with him. Metal accessories clinking together, boots thumping hard on the pavement.

Spluttering, he shakes his head vigorously. You giggle at his face.

"Alright, 'm good. Let's go get coffee"

—

You lead a very sleep deprived Hobie by the sleeve of his hoodie, too warm for his leather one yet too cold for just a t-shirt. He lets you drag him along, not because he's disinterested, sleepiness just got the best of him.

Gasping, you point at a unique streetlight. Little statues of a donkey and a man sitting on the metal sides, a curious owl placed on top, looking down on the street.

"Look at that donkey with a guitar!"

Hobie squints through the haziness, "think that's a lute. Kinda looks like you." He still finds the time to tease you even with heavy eyes. A smirk playing on his lips, watching you closely.

"You're the owl then" you let go of his sleeve, taking the camera from your bag, positioning and angling it for the best lighting. He watches your face full of concentration with a faint endearing smile.

Click.

"Got it" you smile, spotting a stand full of maps and information about the place. "Oohh" skipping over the display, you take one. "Hobie, look! Babe?" You look up from the pamphlet when Hobie doesn't reply back.

He walks towards you at a snail's pace. Grunting back in acknowledgement.

You wince, practically feeling his tiredness ooze out of him. "Let's get that coffee. There's a café near here."

"Overpriced coffee" he could only mumble out a protest. While you guide him towards the shop for some much needed refuel. It's not like he has any other choices, all the coffee shops near the area are unnecessarily expensive, save for gas station coffee– which is too far to get to right now, he might fall asleep while driving to it.

Hobie can't let himself drive through the fog of sleep, especially that you're with him. So he surrenders with the promise of getting his pep back so he can drive you safely to the next destination.

—

After gulping down two cups of coffee that made Hobie seethe after hearing the price, he leaves you on the table to go to the loo, your eyes glued on the leaflet, absorbing every word and information on it.

Hobie makes his way back, now wide awake, he watches you put too much milk on your cup, too distracted with reading– it overflows, spilling the hot liquid on the table. He has never loved you more when you jump in your seat, quietly yelping, clumsily wiping at the table with a napkin. He shakes his head with a fond smile and soft eyes.

Hobie asks for more napkins from the cashier, promptly heading towards your table. He helps you wordlessly, wiping, avoiding spilling any more expensive tea.

"Sorry" you expect Hobie to chastise you for spilling your drink, instead, he looks at you with concern and fondness.

"You alright? Didn't spill any on you?"

You smile softly, thankful eyes staring back at him. "I'm okay, it's not that hot anyway"

"Sure?" He takes his tea stained finger on the tip of your nose, leaving a wet patch over it. Green tea wafts your nostrils. "There's some on you"

"Ack!" Wiping it with a clean tissue, you roll your eyes; faint smile telling him otherwise.

"That's how it is then?" He chuckles, satisfied with your reaction. He sits down next to you, drying his hands on a napkin. Arm instinctively flying around your shoulder, holding you close. "Where to go next?"

"Hmm?" You hum, drinking what's left of your tea, "I thought you had it planned?"

"I planned on stopping here, thought you got the next part since you've always wanted to go here, y'know planned the entire trip in your head before"

For a second he thinks that you're disappointed in him for not planning ahead. The thought stops the second you beam at him, hands on his shoulder to anchor yourself on him. lips puckering to kiss him on the cheek quickly since you're in public. Hobie doesn't protest, leaning towards the kiss, angling his face so that your lips just about graze the corner of his lip. You know exactly what he's doing, you let him, moving slyly closer to his lips.

"Oh, you know me so well!" You say excitedly, pulling away, shaking his shoulder for emphasis. "First stop! The river Avon!"

—

"The ferry's closed" you come back to his side with a frown. Gusts of cool air rushes past, rustling your jacket, the leaves on the trees whisper and rustle in the wind, big fluffy clouds providing shade. The river laps at the dock, adding to your downturned lips. "The employee also said Shakespeare's house and the other houses are closed since it's too early"

"We'll just have to come back on our way home then" your frown turns back into a smile, poking his sides teasingly.

"You'll take me back here?" You say with a smirk, playful eyes smile back at him, finger poking his waist. "Ohhh, you're so smitten"

He takes your poking finger with a roll of his eyes, hiding the growing smile on his lips with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. Where to now, tour guide?"

"The butterfly farm is open early. Is that okay?"

"Why not?"

"We have to walk there, it's a bit of a trek" you shrug, "it's okay if we don't have time for it"

He calculates in his head, if you only stay an hour more, you two can be right back on schedule; just on time to get to Glasgow without being late for the show.

"We've got time to spare"

"You sure? I don't want us to be late" toe to toe with Hobie, finger still encased in his hand, you ask him anyway even though you know what his answer will be.

"Yes, let's go before people flock this place"

Hand in hand, you take in the sights, stopping from time to time to shoot pictures of the historical houses and buildings. Hobie becomes your model, posing like a natural in front of the lens. He wrangles the camera from you to take your picture right in front of Shakespeare's home and school. Shyness slowly edging away for a while as Hobie hypes you up. Instructing you to pose here and there.

You ran out of film before reaching the butterfly garden, stopping right in front of the royal Shakespeare theatre. The red bricks and dome like structure looms overhead.

"Aww, I think we used it all"

"'ve got more" he takes an extra roll of film from his pocket. You stare at him like he just did magic right in front of your eyes.

"Where'd you get this?" You say, bewildered.

"Brought it with me" he says nonchalantly like he didn't do the sweetest thing just for you.

"Have I told you lately that you're really amazing?" You load film inside the camera, quickly snapping a picture of his smug face.

"No, maybe you should say it often"

So enamored, chest filled with love, you agree. "Mm-hmm, maybe I should. Now, can you stand right there while I take a picture of your amazing face"

—

You finally make it to the butterfly garden. An arch with a large colourful butterfly display greets you. Inside is a beautiful glass greenhouse with a dome ceiling, it shines brightly in the early morning sun, adding to your excitement.

Once paid for the tickets, you and Hobie head inside, you're practically jumping off the glass walls. Hobie's hand leads you inside, preventing you from sliding on the gravel and breaking your ankle on the rough ground.

You're in complete awe of the place, it looked beautiful outside but nothing compares to it once inside. The sun glows brilliantly, bouncing its rays on the glass ceiling and walls. Flora and greenery as far as your eyes could see, strategically placed around the massive greenhouse. The flowery and sweet smells entranced you to explore the entire place, not to mention the colorful butterflies in all shapes and sizes fluttering all around you. Birds make their morning sing-song adding to the fantastical atmosphere.

The look on your face makes waking up a few hours earlier than scheduled makes it all worth it for Hobie. He softly smiles at you, hands clasped comfortably over yours. Eyes sparkling, mirroring yours, he guides you further inside. You let him, neck craned up, watching as butterflies swirl overhead.

Gravel crunches under your footsteps, Hobie stops walking. You almost bumped into him, he tugs at your hand, pointing down on the shrubbery.

"What is that?" You squint, jumping when something green slithers further away from you two and into the thick greenery. "Woah!"

He chuckles at your reaction. You fumble for your camera to capture a photo of the iguana lounging in the warmth, scales as green as the leaves around it.

Click.

"Look, it's you!" You point at its sharp spikes, looking at Hobie with a teasing smile.

"Careful, he bites" he taunts back, making you retract your finger back.

Strolling around more, you take so many pictures, the film Hobie gave you is almost full. You've even snuck in candid pictures of Hobie, and by god, he looked great in all of them. While all your pictures looked like you were at a field trip with your parents, posing with a goofy smile on your face as a butterfly lands on your shoulder.

It's been almost an hour of exploring, so you hold his hand again to tug him towards the exit with a promise of going back, without a time constraint next time.

Crisp air greets you two, hand in hand, you walk by the river, watching as ducks and swans swim on the surface. Their quacking and honking gets louder and louder as they notice you, asking for food.

"Maybe we should've brought rice with us" You mumble, looking at the birds with an apologetic look as if they can understand you.

"Do you think if you fall in they'll eat you?" Hobie asks with a serious look on his face, a small smirk curling on his lips, the only indication that he's fully joking.

"I don't think they'll like me very much, I'm full of bread, which isn't nutritious for 'em" you playfully quipped back, squeezing his hand. He chuckles at your comment.

Hobie slyly moves you away from the river, just in case you actually fall in. He guides you to his right, so that he's the one nearest to the water instead of you. Hand holding your left one, you lean to his side, full of affection in your chest, you softly kiss his shoulder. Whispering softly a 'thank you'

—

You've been quiet for an hour, Hobie side eyes you from time to time. The sudden silence makes him concerned, moreso when your face has contorted into a grimace, eyebrows furrowed, you bite your lips with a sharp inhale.

He's worried since you've been extremely chatty an hour ago, voice filling the van, you help him stay awake. Well until he hit a speed bump that made you squeak out.

"You alright, lovey?" Hobie asks with a squeeze of your thigh.

You sit with a fluffy blanket over your lap, a neck pillow under your head. You look comfortable enough, so why do you look like you're in pain?

You exhale, looking at him through the corners of your eyes without moving your neck. "Mm-hmm"

"Mm-hmm? What's wrong? Is the seat not warm enough?" Hobie looks at you through the rearview mirror, seeing your knitted eyebrows.

You ball the blanket under your knuckles. "I'm okay"

He nods, unconvinced.

After a few moments of smooth driving on the highway, cars drive past, you squeeze your thighs together. Controlling your breathing, you try not to think of water.

"Love" he calls for you, "did you see that car with the flame decals on it?" Chuckling softly, he places his hand over your thigh again. Hobie feels the tight muscles under your pants, eyebrow raising in question.

"Y/n" he snickers under his breath. Hands kneading softly at your thigh. Hobie translates the squeezing of your thighs together and your elevated breathing, "I swear if you're hot and bothered, I can't park right here–"

"I need to pee" you say embarrassed, avoiding his eyes. Only finally admitting it so he doesn't actually think you're aroused for some reason.

Hobie laughs loudly, hand slapping the steering wheel. "I told you to go before we left"

"Hobie," you whine. "Not funny, I've been holding it for so long"

"Alright," he clams up, still smiling at your predicament. "There's no gas station near here, love. We're too far away to turn around but we're thirty minutes away from Manchester. We can stop there"

"Thirty?!" You're in agony, hands tucked in between your legs in an attempt to tamp down the need to go.

Hobie moves his hand from your thigh to the back of your neck, kneading softly. He presses the gas, if he hurries you can make it in twenty five without breaking any traffic laws. He makes a joke about you peeing in a bottle which you only glared in return.

Twenty minutes later, you're folded in half on your seat, head layed on your lap, trying to distract yourself by counting the threads in your blanket.

"Almost there, love. Hold on" Hobie pats your head in reassurance. You groan out a reply.

—

You jumped from your seat after a second of Hobie parking the car in front of a gas station. Hand tightening around your travel sized toilet paper.

Hobie patiently waits for you outside the door. Fingers fiddling with his web shooters tucked under his sleeve.

The door creaks open. His neck cranes up to meet your relieved face. "Success?"

"Remind me to not drink anything until we make it to Glasgow."

"You still need to drink some water y'know" he walks back to the car with your pinkies linked together.

"Are we still far?"

"A bit, let's stop by Liverpool to eat lunch" he opens the passenger door for you. You smile sweetly at the gesture.

"Thank you, sorry for being annoying" You hug his waist with one arm briefly just before you hop to your seat.

"Not annoying, tell me next time, yeah?"

"Okay" you lean down to press a kiss on his lips, savoring the moment. He hums into it, his hand right over your shoulder so that you don't fall off.

—

As the van passes through Manchester, you spot the canals, houseboats parked on the side, you get reminded of your shared home.

"Look! That one looks like ours, same color too"

"Missing home already?"

"Kind of. Wish we could stop here, they've got the oldest library in Britain" You lay your head over the window, watching as landmarks pass by in a blur.

"They also have a serial killer too"

You scoff, "in this day and age?" Looking at Hobie's face, you don't see any lie to his comment. Your face falls, "wait, you serious?"

He shrugs, side eyeing you. You have absolutely no idea if he's joking or not, Hobie's good at acting like that, especially if he's teasing you.

"Hobie, you're joking right?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there actually a killer on the loose here?" You instinctively check the door locks.

He doesn't respond, adding to your fear. You completely miss the mischievous look on his face though.

"I don't want to stop here anymore" you mumble.

"We could always take a detour right now–"

"Nope, no thank you" you answer lightning quick.

He hides his smile behind his hand. Maybe he'll tell you all about it on the return trip.

—

An hour later you're sitting down outside a local restaurant in Chinatown, waiting for your food to arrive. The air blows softly, fluttering your lashes. You close your eyes, head resting on your hand, elbow over the table. You can see the faint outline of the Liverpool cathedral underneath the fog. It's gotten a few degrees colder since you've arrived, the streets shine from the earlier rain, petrichor wafts your senses.

Two bowls of warm noodles are placed in front of you. Side dishes, dimsum and xiaolongbao makes your stomach rumble at the sight and savory smell.

"Thank you," you smile at the waiter.

Wondering where Hobie went, lo and behold, he emerges, walking towards you with a paper cup of convenience store coffee. "Food is here, you still need coffee?"

He sits down across from you. "Yeah, needed another boost" Hobie scrunches his nose before standing up again, moving his chair right next to you, avoiding it from scraping the concrete. He sits back down, arm thrown over the back of your chair.

You look at him with a fond smile, heart eyes staring back at Hobie.

"What?" He challenges you with a raised eyebrow and faint smirk.

"Nothin'" you shove him lightly with your shoulder.

"Hm" he hums, you translate it to an 'obviously'

You eat with content, letting him steal some of your broth from your bowl, in exchange, he gives you a dimsum from his share.

—

You do your best at reading the booklet about Liverpool that you've bought before leaving the city while the vehicle moves.

"The guy who designed the cathedral is the same person who designed the red telephone box"

Hobie listens intently with coffee coursing through his veins, stomach full of food, he's properly fueled to drive for more than four hours to Glasgow. His band mates better be there already when you two arrive or he'll wring their necks.

There won't be any more stops until you get to the destination since there'll only be the highway to drive on. It stretches far, cars whirring past. With Sprawling green hills, and mountains curved around the highway makes the drive much more serene. Powerlines on the sides ground you, making it all seem familiar. The weather is foggy, blanketing the England to Scotland border.

The van rattles as Hobie swerves the car to the right. He plants his hand back in your knee, palm circling the curve of it affectionately.

"Ohh, they've got a beach" you stare at the picture of the nature reserve with its sandy windswept dunes, and grassy knolls.

"Add that to the list"

"Okay" you take out a pen from the glovebox, biting the cap off with your teeth, you scribble it on the back of the booklet where there's an empty space. Using your thighs as a table, you add the destination on your little list right under 'old thatch tavern'

"There," you hum happily.

"Is there anything on there 'bout Glasgow?" He kneads your knee with his knuckle.

"A tiny bit" you flip to the back, "they've got a mural trail, we might pass through it on the way. Ooh they also have a glasshouse."

You two pass the time by giving him facts about the places you've passed. Hobie listens in, adding his own knowledge to the mix. An hour later, you're both jamming to his music cassette. You try to make him laugh by banging your head to the song. Whipping your head too hard, you end up banging it on the dashboard.

With wide eyes and laughter threatening to spill out, Hobie comforts you with his palm over your forehead.

You two chat about with you feeding him crisps in between, exchanging stories and playing 'I spy' Hobie ends up winning with his enhanced vision, you challenge him again with a huff. He still wins the second and third round. His prize? Hobie tells you he's gonna hold onto it until you reach Glasgow.

At hour three, the car makes a metal groaning sound in the middle of the highway, you and Hobie looked at each other in fear for a second, silent and waiting for the van to keel over. You both sigh in relief after a few good minutes of silence with the car still running smoothly. Good thing it did because you have no idea how you'll make it to Glasgow if it did decide to just die in the middle of the road.

Before you know it, Hobie parks the van near the venue. Clicking off his seatbelt while you stretch in your seat. Hobie leans towards you, elbow right over the center console, he helps you with your seatbelt before promptly moving his hand to your cheek to face him.

"Can I help you?" You giggle, pecking the tip of his nose. "Are you claiming your prize?"

"This isn't my prize, lovey." He softly says against your lips. "That'll wait for later"

"Okay," you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

"This is my thanks" He meets your waiting lips, moving with yours. Cupping his jaw, thumb rubbing his cheeks, you breathe through your nose so the kiss would last longer yet it still leaves you breathless. You feel his hand around your nape, deepening the kiss further.

Hobie pulls away, seeing your pupils completely dilated, chest heaving for air.

"Thanks for what?" You ask breathlessly.

"Comin' with me" with his finger, he wipes the sheen off your lips, it stays there for a second, savoring, longing. For everything.

"You could've asked me to go anywhere and I still would've gone. As long as it's with you."

He answers with another kiss, laced with so much love and thankfulness, you feel it all through it.

A sudden knock has you pulling away, Hobie clicks his tongue at the intrusion. Turning around, he spots his bandmates whistling and wiggling their eyebrows. One was making a gesture that made you hide your face.

"You fuckin' wankers!" Hobie opens the door, slamming it on his friends' faces, they scatter, hooting and hollering, taunting him.

You watch as Hobie play fights with them, arm choking his bass player. With a lopsided smile on your face, excitement bubbles in your chest, the return trip and his promise makes you excited more than anything.

A/N: this fic is long overdue that we're at 700 already! Thank you all so much for reading and interacting with my little stories! Love all 700 of you ❤️

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zegrasdrysdale · 5 months

Note

Hi! I wanted to ask if you could write a request for cole caufield! So him and reader are like newly public but have been dating for a couple months, but she’s getting hate on the internet bc her ex is someone who’s famous (idk who lol) but anyways she goes onto like a podcast and talks about how much better of a boyfriend cole was to her than her ex and when she gets home he’s just so in awe of her and the way she feels and speaks about him (I’m so sorry if this didn’t make sense) 😭

[ to love and to be loved ] c. caufield

paring : Cole Caufield x influencer!fem!reader

summary : tired of the hate she's been getting, (Y/N) goes on a podcast to talk about her life, her past relationship, and her new public relationship with Canadians star Cole Caufield

warning(s) : language, mentions of cheating

author’s note : my first time ever writing for cole so pls tell me if i did okay :)

༺═──────────────═༻

She didn't know what she thought would happen when she and Cole went public with their relationship a few months after they started dating. There were a few hours where all she saw was support, until her TikToker ex decided to say something about the announcement she and Cole made.

All she sees right now is hate from thousands of people after her ex's comments on his Instagram story. He called her a bitch and said she used him to gain fame and use his money to get what she wanted. He even tagged Cole in a second Instagram story to warn him about her "manipulative ways". His millions of fans agreed with him and have started to flood her feed with hate and negative messages.

She can't even imagine what Cole's comments and DMs look like.

It's been a week since that day, and she's only grown tired of seeing all the hate. She's hasn't spoken out about her ex's accusations about her despite her having more serious accusations about him and his own girlfriend.

As soon as she was invited to go on one of her friends' podcasts, she jumped at the opportunity to speak out about what's been going on. It's time to speak out, and that's the reason her friend invited her on to the podcast.

The set is comfortable. She sits on the couch next to her friend and her friend's podcast partner. A microphone sits in front of her on a stand. A table sits at her feet that holds cups of coffee for the three of them. It's a cozy set up.

"Thank you for inviting me," (Y/N) says to her friend. "I'm sorry Cole wasn't available to come on with me. He flew in this morning from his road trip and has practice today. He didn't want to risk being late to the rink."

Her friend Demi says, "It's not a problem. I understand that he has a busy schedule. Thank you for agreeing to come on."

"It's time I spoke up about this," she tells her friend. "Don't be afraid to ask the hard questions. I'll happily answer any of them."

One of the crew members tells them they're going live in less than a minute. (Y/N) throws her curls behind her shoulder and sits back to get comfortable on the couch.

The same crew member counts down from five before pointing at Demi and her podcast partner. Demi is the one that gives this episode's greeting.

"Welcome back to TikTok Stuff You Should Know," she says into her own microphone. "To my left is Payton, which is not surprising at all because she's glued to my side. Today we have a very special guest joining us. She is a very close friend of mine who has been dealing with a lot of hate recently after launching her relationship online last week. Please welcome (Y/N) (L/N) to the podcast."

Payton looks over at (Y/N) and speaks. "Welcome, (Y/N). We're very happy you're able to join us today."

"Happy to be here."

Demi smiles at her and says, "So, we're all dying to know. How is your relationship with Cole Caufield? How have the two of you been dealing with the past week?"

There it is. Starting out strong.

"Cole has been super supportive of me," she replies. "He's been doing his best in trying to distract me over the past week. I think we've both been trying to stay off social media this week and focus on making sure we're both okay. He's been playing really well recently too, which makes it very easy to distract myself from everything that's been happening on social media. I think he's been using hockey as his own distraction."

Payton nods along as (Y/N) speaks. Demi's eyes are on her. They're both listening to everything she's been saying.

That's only a fraction of what's been happening.

(Y/N) has been in tears almost every night, especially since Cole has been on a roadie for the past four days. The first three days after all hell broke loose were perfect. She laid in Cole's arms every night and woke up next to him every morning. It made the days a lot easier.

Since he left, she's been in tears on FaceTime with him. It hasn't been as easy without him near her. It actually kind of sucks. She didn't even get to see him before she left.

"What made you want to come out about your seemingly new relationship with him?" Payton asks. "Did you think that Ethan would say something about it when you and Cole posted about it?"

She shakes her head. "I always thought Ethan was a really nice guy," she explains. "I certainly didn't expect this out of him. Especially after everything he did throughout our relationship. Cole and I really love each other and we both got tired of hiding that from the public. It was his idea to make out "

"That's an interesting comment," Demi slowly says like she doesn't know what her ex did. "What did Ethan do during your relationship?"

(Y/N) bites her bottom lip for a second. "He cheated on me," she tells the two of them. "All the time at the end of our relationship. Actually, his new girlfriend is just one of the girls he fucked while we were in a relationship. He would have a new girl every weekend and I would look the other way because I loved him."

"It wasn't because you didn't want to lose your constant source of followers and money?" Payton asks. "I'm not taking a shot, by the way. He accused you of using him for fame and money so I just want you to be able to clear the air."

"No, I understand," she replies after being caught off guard by the way the question was worded. "Um, no. I never once used him for followers or money. I made my own money by posting my own content across social media. I stayed with him because I wanted to believe he was a better person and that he could change. I truly loved him and I wanted a future with him. After nearly three months of this, I couldn't do it anymore and I ended things with him."

She notes that Payton looks genuinely surprised by her words. Demi looks annoyed because she and (Y/N) are actually very close friends so she was one of the first people that she told what was going on. She was one of the people that told (Y/N) to end the relationship when Ethan started cheating on her.

"That's crazy," Payton drawls. "Holy shit." She looks over at Demi. "Did you know about all of this?"

"(Y/N) is one of the most genuine people I have ever known," Demi says. "I hated seeing her in that relationship at the end, and I hate that she's being accused of using someone for followers and money. There was a reason she rarely ever posted Ethan on any of her social media. She didn't want to constantly post him because she was afraid to be labeled as a user. She loves creating content and videos. She's so much happier now."

A small smile forms on her lips as she thinks about Cole. She thinks about how he actually loves her and isn't afraid to show it.

"I am so much happier now," she echoes. "I mean, Cole is the best thing that has ever happened to me. He was so patient with me at the beginning of our relationship because I was still healing from my last relationship. He spent so long trying to show me that it's okay to love and be loved by someone that I gave my heart to him. I trust him with my everything, which is not something I would've said this time last year."

Demi smiles at her and Payton mirrors it. "That's so good to hear," Payton says. "Sounds like you caught a good one, (Y/N)."

"I absolutely did," she replies with a smile on her own face. "He is the best boyfriend. I've been so emotional this past week and he has made sure to be there for me the entire time. He checked in on me while he was on the road for the past few games. I am so in love with him, and he helped me believe in love again. I am so grateful for him."

One of the crew members tells them to begin wrapping up. Payton takes over. "Well, thank you for talking with us, (Y/N)," she says. "Where can we find you and Cole?"

"You can find Cole on the ice tomorrow night at seven when he and the Canadians take on the Calgary Flames," she says. "You can find him on social media at colecaufield. You can find me on social media as well at yourusername. Or you can find me somewhere in the stands at Cole's home hockey games."

༺═──────────────═༻

It feels like an eternity since she's been home when she walks into her apartment in downtown Montreal. She shuts the door behind her with a sigh and leans against it.

When she throws her keys in the bowl by the door, she sees Cole's car keys. "Coley?" she calls. "Are you here?"

She walks into the living room to see Cole sitting on the couch. He looks back at her and smiles. "You are freaking amazing, baby," he tells her. "I listened to the podcast on the way home and holy shit. I have never heard anyone talk about me the way you do. I swear I fall in love with you more every single day."

"You listened?" she asks.

Cole stands up with a nod. "To the whole thing," he replies. "I helped you believe in love again?"

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathes out. "You did. You showed me that it's okay to love someone without being afraid they're going to hurt you. I thought that for a long time, Cole. You helped me realize that it's okay to love someone again."

Without realizing it, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. She tries to wipe them away quickly but Cole notices them before she can wipe them away. He walks around the couch to get to her and he envelopes him in a hug. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispers in her ear.

She lets out a quiet sob and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so grateful for you," she replies.

"You're so brave for talking about the whole situation," Cole tells her. "I can't believe how well you're handling it. I'm in awe, (Y/N). I wish I had your strength. I wish I could've been there to witness the whole podcast."

"I'm only brave because you're here," she admits as she pulls her face out of his chest. Cole moves his hands to her jaw and his thumbs wipe away more tears that escaped. "I don't know where I'd be if you weren't here. I don't know if I'd even be here if you weren't, Cole."

Cole presses a kiss to her forehead and mumbles, "I love you. More than you'll ever know. You're so strong."

She closes her eyes and whispers, "I love you too."

(Y/N) isn't afraid to say those three words anymore. Not like she was last year. Cole has showed her that she doesn't need to be afraid anymore.

༺═──────────────═༻

MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

#hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey oneshot #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl oneshot #cole caufield #cole caufield x reader #cole caufield fluff #zegrasdrysdale request

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cosmicstarlatte · 7 months

Text

Levi A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (9 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

tags: punishment, humiliation Every once in a while you need to punish him, either he spent way too much on otaku merch or he's been missing classes too much, whatever. You'll usually sit on him & tease him as he tries to play on his PC. He knows what you're doing & he begs to feel you, please he'll 'do better' he says. Unfortunately for him his poor cock won't get that sweet relief exactly. he can beg & whine all he wants & rub desperately against you but he's still gonna have to cum in his pants.

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

It was clumsy & cute. The poor otaku was so nervous, he couldn't believe he could bag such a baddie. Someway somehow even with the nervousness he still felt calm with you, if that makes any sense. He was more worried about you than him & he just wanted to make you feel good. especially when he came rather quickly before the 1st round. Anyway, the nerd is packin' & those hands & tongue work skillfully. ...You definitely went a few good rounds into the night & left each other a mess before finally taking a sweet bath together. After, you guys cuddled under a warm blanket & watched a lighthearted anime. ♡

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

tags: Possessive, Love bites/Marking, Scenting Sweetie, he's the avatar of envy. When it's extreme, there's no hiding it, he gives in. That sweet shy nervous otaku? Gone. He's bringing & giving grand admiral energy, he's giving 'one of the powerful lords of hell.' Sure he could summon Lotan or use something else if he wants to, but all he really needs is to say "Go away" in a icy cold voice & glare that makes thousands of soldiers shiver. You almost feel sorry for any bastard that tries to make him jealous. Even after they leave though, he wants nothing more but to mark you with visible love bites & rub his scent all over you. He made it easily known to his brothers to not touch what's his.

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

It happens frequently hehe. You tend to stay over a lot to watch a marathon or play games. Levi's libido is strong, he's always down to fuck in the morning, it brightens his spirit. Watching you take his cock & filling you up right before school is the perfect way to start the day. It's especially motivating when he knows you walk around the entire day with his cum between your legs, he cant wait to come home & fuck you again. (If he can wait that long)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

You know what I'm not gonna lie, I think he'd be just a tad disappointed at first. Of course he reminds himself a lot of porn is fake anyway & then he really tunes in to the small delicious sounds you do reveal. The faces you make. The little bits you let him hear are still so very fucking hot & sexy. He's the one making you sound like that either way~

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

Ah...Levi is easy. He's not very good at hiding it. A flushed face and a small sheen of sweat to him. He gets a little extra irritable as well. The biggest sign is the tent in his pants when he's around you. Sorry, but he doesn't hide it very well, it's obvious when he looks like he's trying to hide something when he tries to cover up down there. (I wonder if he does it on purpose?)

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

Do you realize what you've done? The first time you sent him a video, he got instantly hard & couldnt stop cumming to that video. Unfortunately for him he kept getting hard any time he thought about it that week, it was embarrassing walking around with a constant erection. His first few videos in response were a little clumsy, but it turned you on. He was a loud moaner & he loved to whimper. Little whiney pants when he was getting close always did it for you. He made sure to take better video, especially audio when he learned you really loved his moans. ♡

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

tags: overstimulation The only thing on his mind is getting you off the entire night until you're crying & begging him to stop. Until you're drained. He knows it's about the two of you celebrating but...you're his life partner now! He's so grateful you chose him out of everyone. Please let him worship you tonight, lay back & let him handle it. He promises he's enjoying this as much as you are. Promise.

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

tags: double dicks, creepy!pervy!levi I'm not going to lie to y'all, Levi's a freak. (Okay we knew this) He watches all kinds of porn, both real & hentai. I'd say it's nearly an every day thing, it's hard taking care of two monster cocks & he needs to empty his balls. His favorite? POV hentai vids. Especially ones that look like you... Perhaps he has a few commissioned hentais where they look like the two of you...

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

#Levi:#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan smut #obey me leviathan headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x you #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me levi #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

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jasntodds · 3 months

Text

Petrichor [16]

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

Words: 13,749

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, blood, gunshot wound, a little bit of gore, mentions of death, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

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

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

A/N: Hey!! lmao so sorry for the super late update. I was sick and then some personal stuff happened and then I thought I got covid so yeah hi lol I'm so sorry lol This chapter was like 20k+ words so I split it into two because that was a lot lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Jason is stuck pacing back and forth in the room he’s calling a bedroom now. Worry has taken every part of him as his hand grips his phone like a vice. It’s been hours. He hasn’t heard from you or Dick or Gar. He hasn’t heard from anyone and he’s tried calling you seven times. But, your phone is off and your phone is never off. That is the one thing about you, your phone will never be off unless there is a reason for it and being hurt isn’t a good reason. Not to you. The only time your phone even dies is…never. Jason thinks about it and he doesn’t think you’ve let your phone even reach 20% in the entire time you’ve known each other. He thinks it’s probably so someone can always find you and you can always call for help because you’re almost paranoid about it dying. Your phone doesn’t die.

That leaves Jason thinking the worst of the worst. If your phone is off, that means it has to be dead or you shut it off for some reason but that’s uncharacteristic of you. So, he thinks maybe it did die and if it died, that’s because you didn’t charge it. If you didn’t charge your phone, it’s because you were physically incapable of charging it. What if something really bad happened? What if you were shot somewhere else? Jason knows Crane wanted you taken care of, maybe he shot you twice but you’re really good at hiding your pain when you need to. Adrenaline probably kicked in and shock, you were scared for Tim. Maybe you didn’t realize how bad it was. What if there was a complication of some sort and something bad happened?

Jason’s mouth starts to water as his eyes burn. His brows pinch together hard as his teeth grind so hard his jaw starts to ache. He was brought back. But, a part of him really hates that he was. Would you want to be brought back? If you died, would you want to be brought back like him? Jason comes to a stop, trying to steady his own breathing as his leg aches and burns. The scars on his chest feel like he’s being cut open again. What if you don’t want to be brought back but Jason did anyway? What if you did, and he does nothing?

What if you did die?

If you did die…Gar would call him, right?

Gar would definitely call, Jason assures himself. Gar would call immediately if something were happening. He has the number now and Jason’s ringer is on with the vibration set to strong. He has no missed calls but he’s certain Gar would call. If not, he would have called Molly and Molly would have found a way to call Jason. If you were dead, one of them would call him.

And then Jason swallows his own heartbeat as his phone starts ringing.

Gar.

“Hey.” Jason clears his throat, trying to keep himself together as he tries to prepare himself for the worst news he’ll ever get.

“Is she there?” Gar asks and Jason can hear the worry etched in his voice.

“Uh…no?” Jason questions and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or panicked with Gar not knowing where you are. At least he’s not calling to tell Jason you’re dead but that does not rule out you bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. “I told her to go with you.”

Gar sighs on the end, running a hand through his hair. “She took off. I thought maybe she went to find you but she was hurt and she’s not answering her phone. Molly hasn’t heard from her either.”

Jason already figured you wouldn’t go to Molly. If you went to Molly, she would worry, give you a look you don’t like, and you’d run away again anyway. The last thing you’d want to do is drag Molly into it further. But, Jason really hoped you’d have listened for once and just went with Gar. Or at least sent a text to one of them to let them know you’re okay or not.

“She hasn’t been around.” Jason keeps his voice quiet and he looks around his room as if the answer is going to be written on the walls.

“Uh…hey, I know this…might not be what it’s for, but can you track her? She was shot and we’re all really worried.” Gar’s voice is hesitant as he scrunches his nose, hating the idea of having Jason do it. It feels like an invasion of privacy, especially Gar being the one to ask but it’s a last-ditch effort.

Of course, Jason’s been thinking about it. But, something in him can’t get himself to do it. On the small chance you did shut your phone off, that means you don’t want to be found. Jason can’t overstep, he can’t intrude on you. Even if he is desperately wanting to because you could be dead. He thought maybe he’d give you twenty more minutes and then he’d just do it anyway.

“Have you looked for her?” Jason asks, eying his tablet you left out.

“No, I called you first.” Gar admits. Honestly, Gar doesn’t even know where to look but he knew Jason would.

With no one out looking for you, maybe they don’t have to track you and possibly invade your privacy. If you’re just blowing off steam or punishing yourself, Jason knows exactly where you’ll be. He figures, if him, Gar, and Molly can’t find you within an hour, checking all of your spots, he’ll use the tracker.

“Okay, you and Molly go look for her at her usual spots. Molly’ll know ‘em and I’ll check a few others. If we don’t find her in an hour, I’ll track her.” Jason nods his head on the other end.

“Do you think we’ll actually find her? I mean you know how she is.” Gar isn’t trying to be pessimistic but it’s been hours and he thought for sure, you would be with Jason.

Jason can feel the panic attack starting to course through his blood. His heart is racing and his hands are growing clammy and he’s getting unreasonably angry. It is not Gar’s fault because even on a good day, getting you to listen is like pulling fucking teeth, especially when it has to do with taking care of yourself. Jason knows this better than anyone but he’s mad anyway and he knows it’s the panic attack. You were fucking shot and he took off so he’s mad at himself for listening. And he’s mad that you were shot and Gar didn’t stop you. He can turn into a fucking tiger for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have turned into a tiger to stop you? Tackled you to the ground and pinned you there, dragged you to the manor kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do. You were shot and maybe you’re dead now and he didn’t help. And Jason didn’t fucking help.

“Fuck! Gar, then you should have fucking followed her!” Jason snaps and immediately feels bad about it but any part of him that should apologize is washed over with guilt and regret and more anger. “Just go fucking look for her with Molly and I’ll look other places.” Jason grabs his coat from the bed and heads for the door.

“Where should we start?” Gar is quiet on the other end.

“The zoo.” Jason spits right back without even thinking. “Start there, then the harbor and I’ll–” Jason cuts himself off as he swings the door open, seeing you right in front of him with bloodshot eyes and blood-stained clothes and hands.

Gotham never sleeps. It never stalls. Everything is always moving, always loud. There is always something going on, people always going from one spot to the next in their lives. In some ways, it’s a little comforting. A reminder that you are here. You are here and alive like all of the people you passed on your walk here living their own lives. On the other hand, you wish it were quiet sometimes. You wish it were quiet sometimes because everything seems too much sometimes and your skin crawls while your heart feels like it’s going to beat out your chest. Your head spins and everything feels too much. But, it was quiet in the basement. It was quiet in the tower before you were attacked. It was quiet in the tunnels. It was quiet when you found Jason. It was quiet when Tim was shot. Maybe quiet is the surrounding air grieving for the mess fate’s created.

So, you stand in Jason’s doorway because quiet with him, alive and breathing, has always been the safest place to be. You stand weakly, haunted by everything that’s happened as the very idea of existing physically pains the deepest parts of your heart.

It’s hard to go through the same shit all the time. You’re just supposed to be fine with it. It’s happened before and you got over it, so you can get over it again, right? At some point, someone reaches the end of their rope and you think you might be there. It is the same pain over and over again and it never gets any easier. Time passes and it all just hurts anyway. People say time heals everything but you don’t think that’s true because you think about your mom dying and it’s like the wind’s been kicked from your chest all over again. You remember Jason’s body and it’s like you're being waterboarded. Time doesn’t heal anything. It’s not even like you’re used to it. You were just traumatized and avoid thinking about everything so it doesn’t fucking hurt so much. But, even that’s just exhausting. Existing is hard and tiring and painful.

Maybe you’re just tired of being in pain.

Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you always felt safest with him. Even from your own thoughts. You never felt too much pain around him. He always knows exactly what to do and it’s all too much right now. Being alone doesn’t work anymore. So, you stare up at him as Jason’s brows pull together with a cross between worry and relief.

“Jason?” Gar calls. “You there?” Gar asks.

“I got her.” Jason says. “She’s here. I’ll call you later.” Jason says quickly before hanging up. “Hey.” Jason’s voice is soft and careful, noticing you’re not making eye contact with him.

You walk the couple of feet up to him as Jason keeps his stance, almost ready to do whatever you’ll need. And all you do is lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. Jason lets out a breath and you’re able to pull one in for the first time. Jason rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down slowly as he hears you sniffle against him.

“Gar was calling in a search party. Where the fuck were you?” Jason asks and he should have some sort of bite in his voice but he’s too worried and too relieved.

You look back up to him and shake your head. “Walking. I couldn’t-I couldn’t…do it.” Your jaw squares as you try to hold back your own tears. “S-sorry..I-I didn’t mean to…to, uh, worry you guys. I-I just…just couldn’t.”

Jason nods with understanding, looking you over and it doesn’t look like you took care of the gunshot wound. Your clothes are soaked and your hair is an utter mess. There’s blood on your face and he swears your cheeks are stained with tears and you actually look cold.

Jason rests his hand on your cheek and you finally meet his eyes. “You alright?” Jason asks softly.

“Hurts.” You mutter and his hand almost feels like it’s burning your cheek. He’s so warm.

“The gunshot?” Jason questions, almost afraid of the answer.

“Everything.” You answer weakly with defeat.

You've never seen his look on him before. His jaw is squared but it’s soft rather than harsh like he’d been trying to shatter his own teeth. His brows are pinched but not completely pulled together and they’re aimed downward, etched in worry. His eyes are scanning you over every few seconds as if he’s stuck between thinking you aren’t really here and terrified something really bad is about to happen. Jason Todd worries and you've seen him worried plenty of times but this is different. You've seen him scared, too, plenty of times. More times than you can really count. But, this is different. It’s a different look and it’s because it’s you. And that look alone, chops and hacks at the barrier holding you together until it finally crumbles at your feet.

“It’s all my fault, Jay.” You sputter as you feel your eyes starting to water again. “It’s all my fault and I really fucked up and Tim could die or he did die. I don’t even know cause I left and I’m a fucking coward for leaving and it’s all my fucking fault.” Your mouth waters and you can’t look at his eyes because it’s all too much. “And there was so much…blood again. And the last time…it was you and it was horrible and I lost you and I couldn’t do it again and it just hurts all the time.” You suck in a shaky breath. “And-and Gar would say it’s not my fault and he’d give me the look but it is my fault. And Dick would be mad at me and I deserve it but I can’t hear it right now because I don’t know if I can handle it. And….it’s just-it’s just my fault. And I don’t know if could save him but I tried and I tried to save you, too.” You sputter before a sob finally rips through your throat. It bounces against the walls in a strangled and broken wail as if the very life you've lived has finally taken its toll on you for the last time. Jason isn’t sure he can listen to it because it physically pains him to see and hear you like this.

“Y/n.” Jason tries to get out but you shake your head.

“I tried really fucking hard to save you and it didn’t work. And I had to call Bruce and beg him to help me and he couldn’t and it was so fucking horrible and painful and scary.” You try to suck in a breath as tears scatter down your face. Everything is just wet and ugly, and burning. “It was so bad and I was so alone.” You suck in a ragged breath, your voice cracking and breaking between sobs. “Because Molly didn’t know and fuck Bruce and Gar wasn’t here. I was so alone and it was so scary because there was so much blood and brain matter.” Jason almost winces hearing it. “I don’t know if I would have been able to recognize you if you didn’t have the fucking Robin suit. It was so fucking bad and it hurts to think about and believe it happened but you’re here. And then Tim gets shot and there’s so much blood and I had to ask Dick to help and it’s like I’m there with your body again and it’s scary and it’s painful and I hate it. I hate how much it hurts. I hate doing this. I hate that it keeps happening.” Your chest heaves as you look at Jason with tears soaking your cheeks and your eyes finally meet his. And all Jason can see is defeat. “What if it just keeps happening?”

Jason shakes his head and every single time he is reminded you were the one that found him, he sends himself into a guilt-ridden spiral. Of course, you found him. That isn’t the issue. The issue is what it looked like from your perspective and the devastation it caused. He knows. He knows what it is like to find someone you love dead. He knows and it’s horrible and painful and devastating. It makes someone feel completely hopeless and helpless and useless. There has never been a time where he felt more helpless. And then he put you in that same position, not on purpose. But, he did and it was worse because it was gorey and traumatizing and he left you. He didn’t realize how badly it had traumatized you. It traumatized him, too but it affects you.

Dying doesn’t just happen to the person that’s dead. It happens to everyone around them.

“I’m so sorry.” Jason says softly, sliding his hand off your cheek. He shakes his head, biting his own tongue because he almost wants to cry with you. “I’m fucking sorry.” Jason wraps his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you into him. He’s careful not to hug you too tight, minding the gunshot wound he knows he’ll be taking care of for you later. “You’re not coward.” Jason manages to get out as he tries to come up with an answer for you even though he doesn’t think he’ll ever have one. The reality is that it will keep happening.

“Yeah, I am.” You argue back before you look up at him. “What fucking person just leaves as their friend is bleeding on the ground?”

“Someone who’s fucking traumatized.” Jason bites back. “Someone who was also fucking shot and in shock. You tried to help him and me knowing the shit you’d get for it. You fucking knew I went after the Joker and you show up alone, ready to take him on by your fucking self if you had to. You think that makes you a coward? What’s that make me then, huh?” Jason questions back, knowing you’ll never think of him as a coward, even if he sees that in himself sometimes.

“Not a coward but that’s different.” You argue.

“Fucking how?” Jason spits back. “You left Tim with Dick and the rest of the Titans who would know what to do. You were also fucking shot.” Jason shakes his head.

Jason wonders if this is what it's like dealing with him sometimes. Going round and round, circling the drain into a self-destructive spiral that only seems to have one result. It's not that he minds, it's that you think this. You're anything but a coward and Jason can't even figure out how you could think otherwise. You always do what you think is best for yourself and for the people you care about. Always. And you fight tooth and nail, as hard and as fast as you possibly can for what you believe. That's not cowardly.

“I-I know but…” You sniffle as you shake your head. “H-how can I keep doing this? I mean…losing people and the blood and….how can I do this for other people when I can’t even save the people I love?” You ask bluntly. “That’s shit, you know? We’re supposed to be out helping people and…and I can’t even…I fail with the people that matter. So, what’s the point?”

Jason would be lying if he doesn't question what the point is half the time, especially over the last few days. What's the point of living if this is even how it plays out? Pain and chaos, destruction and lonelienss. It's all pretty miserable, actually. But, he holds on anyway because it wasn't always like this.

Shit gets bad and then it gets better and yeah, it is exhausting sometimes. But, it's always gotten better. Jason doesn't know how much better it'll get from here now but he won't tell you that. He just knows he wakes up and he tries because you were nearly beaten an inch from your life and you find so much joy and love in small things that that alone seems to give Jason some sort of hope. And because Gar's family was killed and Gar was experimented on and he is the most optimistic person he has ever met. And because Molly lived on the streets with the death of her parents and Molly is the nicest person Jason has ever met. If all of these people can just be better after everything, than he can't very well just give up. And you can't either. Maybe there isn't a point but you'll never know if you give up.

“You know what you told me? You are the one that said sometimes we fail, that’s part of the job. But, we try.” Jason licks his lips as he sucks in a breath. “You talked me off the roof. Maybe Deathstroke would have tried to kill me or done worse shit if it weren’t for you. Fucking Pete Hawkins bullshit. The kid at Jerry’s. You were the one that fought tooth and fucking nail to save Gar. And you did, by the way. You saved Tim at Excellent Gotham. You failed two fucking times but by my count, you win more often.”

“Three times.” You correct him, earning you a glare. “Gar got kidnapped, we failed then…too.”

“You were both tranquilized and they used kryptonite on Krypto. I don’t think that counts.” Jason nods his head.

“I guess.” You let out a breath, looking to your shoes. “I just, uh,” You sniffle as you shake your head, looking back to him. “I just want the pain to stop.” Your voice cracks again.

Jason doesn’t say it, but he does, too. So, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

You press your cheek to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as your breathing is still rapid and ragged. But, you can hear his heartbeat in between breaths. It’s fast but steady. A lot quicker than it usually is but it is there. A few more tears leak out as you count his heartbeat and are fully engulfed by his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how numb you had gotten from the cold until now. Your fingers and toes are starting to feel like painful pins and needles. Your arms are burning and your cheek sting from the salty tears. It’s as if you're thawing from his warmth. Between that and his steady heartbeat, you calm yourself down.

“I can try to help.” Jason whispers softly. “If you’ll have me.” Jason pulls away just enough to look down at you and your eyes meet his.

You told him before that you’d come for everything that ever hurt him if it came to it. Anyone that ever wanted to hurt him, would have to go through you. Because he was just Jason Todd to you. It didn’t matter that he could -- should have been able to -- take care of himself. And Jason knew that’s how it was for him, too. Anyone who wants to hurt you, has to go through him. But, the problem is that someone did hurt you…because of him. And he hurt you. Right now you're in pain and it’s because of him. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you but Jason wants to protect you. He’d cut out pieces of his heart and glue them to yours if it would make you feel better. He would do anything in this world if it would make your pain less. Any form of pain that wants to come for you, is going to have to go through him first. From now on.

You nod your head. “Always.” You croak out.

“Come on.” Jason releases his arms and cold rushes itself right back over your body. “Sit on the bed, I’ll grab you some clothes and supplies to clean that shit. We’ll start there.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You mutter softly, walking to the bed and Jason watches you carefully.

He wonders if this is how it always felt for you. He’d come home bloody and bruised, weak and pitiful. Scared and in pain. He never said anything but Jason knows you always knew. Somehow, you always knew when he was hurt and scared. But, it was always him walking through the door hurt, not you. And it was you that would stitch him up. Sure, he’s helped you with your hands, but you did it at least twice a week for months. And you never complained. But, Jason wonders if this is what it feels like.

It feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world for the both of you and he’s trapped in a worrying spin. And he is so fucking sad for you. It’s not pity, but just sadness. It’s wanting the best for you and you to have everything good in this world because you deserve it. And wanting to witness it because he loves you. It’s just wanting to see you smile and happy, making some stupid joke and telling him to fuck off. It’s just wanting you to not be in pain anymore. He wonders if this is how it felt being you and if so, he wants to know so badly how the fuck you dealt with it because he feels like he’s suffocating while he grabs you clothes.

Jason walks back over to you, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a red hoodie. “I got first aid shit in the bathroom so change and I’ll be back.” Jason nods his head at you.

“Okay.” You answer weakly and Jason hesitates for a few seconds before he practically runs off to the bathroom.

You're weak and unsteady as you change into the sweats. You're realizing you haven’t eaten in a while and you haven’t had much to drink either. That’s definitely not helping your mental state and you know it. But, if you were being really honest, none of those activities sound like things you're currently capable of doing. Changing is even almost too much effort at this point. And it fucking hurts as you try to take your shirt off to swap it for the hoodie.

“Need help?” Jason appears right back not two minutes later.

You always hated feeling helpless but not around him. “Yeah, it hurts.” You sniffle softly, sitting pitifully on the bed.

Jason walks over, resting the kit beside you before he lightly grabs the hem of your hoodie. Jason helps you tug it off of your bad shoulder and then over your head, you groaning the entire time. With the hoodie off, you're left in a blue t-shirt and Jason sees where the bullet hole is, covered in red and brown. With the chaos of last night, he didn’t check and wasn’t able to check if the wound was a through and through. Jason's stomach twists at the thought that it's not. But, he hides his worry, looking back to you with a soft sigh.

“How did you wanna do this?” Jason asks bluntly.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I-I don’t know?” You shake your head.

“I can’t clean it with your shirt on.” Jason sucks in a breath and normally he’d have some comment about seeing you half naked again but he can’t quite muster it this time.

“Oh…” You whisper and you swear it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before and it’s not like you didn’t see Jason fully exposed just the other night. There is something that just feels…new and vulnerable again. “That’s fine.” You nod and Jason leans forward again, tugging the hem of your shirt up and over your head, freeing your arm. You grab Jason's hoodie with your good arm and Jason helps tug it onto your good arm, you thankful it's a zip-up and not a pullover. “Guess that’ll do.” You suck in a breath and you're kind of tired of feeling like this. “I expect you to actually help and not just stare at my tits the whole time.”

Jason manages a cheeky smirk. “You know I’m ass guy anyway.” Jason glances down and then back to you.

“Shithead.” You mutter and Jason’s head swims. It’s been so long since you've called him that and it almost feels nostalgic.

“Babe.” Jason quips back.

Jason takes out his phone, examining the gunshot now that there isn’t anything in the way. There’s still blood everywhere and he can’t even tell if it’s because you did such a shit job at cleaning it or if the wound is actually that bad. Something in his stomach twists and turns into a gnawing pain at the thought this is worse than he originally thought. But, he keeps a straight face, not to let his worry cross even a single line of his face. When he worries, you worry.

Jason grabs a wet rag from the bowl he brought in with him, gently cleaning around the area to try to get a better look. You let out a shaking breath, the water cool against your skin.

“Sorry, no hot water.” Jason barely glances to you as he scrubs some of the dry blood away.

“Should probably fix that.”

“Pilot lights are expensive.”

“I have Bruce’s credit card.” You mutter quietly, earning a look from Jason.

He stops, looking up at you fully. “You would.”

“Eat the rich.” You shrug. “Or take their money when it’s offered to you and he didn’t ask for it back.” Jason lets out a snicker before he goes back to cleaning. “You should use yours. It might send up a red flag for Bruce and maybe he’ll call someone back or come back.”

You hate the words as they leave your lips because wanting Bruce back means admitting defeat. But, Gotham has gone to absolute shit since Bruce decided to fuck off somewhere. At least Gotham had some degree of fear and respect for the Bat. They don't seem to like the Titans very much. And Jason's been off his rocker and you've been stuck trying to help him. Gotham does need someone they respect. Bruce should definitely come back. And if for no other reason, to see his son is alive again.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, fucking right.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Fuck Bruce. I don’t need him.”

Before he died, he was getting better about talking about his problems and the things that kept him up at night. He was doing better with it but then he comes back and the very idea of talking about it makes him want to crash through a window headfirst onto solid pavement. In all fairness, he already hated talking about Bruce. It was one thing to complain about him but it was an entirely other thing to unravel and dig into actually talking about him. Now, though, it’s worse because every time Jason thinks about Bruce, it’s as if his heart starts to break all over again.

Maybe him getting bludgeoned death was his fault. He knew better. But, where was Bruce? Bruce gave up on him. And then…was going to let the Joker just…live. Jason was supposed to be Bruce’s son and he couldn’t even kill the Joker for him or do anything about him. And maybe, just maybe, Jason could get over that eventually but Jason’s alive again and Bruce is nowhere to be found. With everything going on in Gotham, Jason is certain Dick would have called Bruce and let him know. If for no other reason than to rat Jason out to “dad”. So, maybe Jason feels like he was always a little expendable to Bruce, not just Crane or the Titans. And that part hurts the most.

“Didn’t say you did?” You let out a breath. “Just saying is all.” You pull in a deep breath. “Fuck Bruce, yeah. Just saying.” You, for one, still hate Bruce but Jason hating Bruce seems weird. You chalked it up to the drug at first and Crane but…Jason’s clean. It’s weird, even for Jason. “What’s your sudden issue with Bruce anyway?”

“You got a problem with me having a problem with Bruce all of a sudden?” Jason spits back and he shouldn’t, given your current state but his heartache over being abandoned by him is fresh.

“Oh, no. I am actually fine with that cause fuck Bruce but it’s weird. After all of that shit, you come back and suddenly don’t like him. That’s weird, Jay. Even for you.”

“Never fucking mattered to him. I was always just the replacement for Dick anyway. Doesn’t fucking matter.” Jason dips the rag into the water, rinsing some of the blood off before going back to the wound.

You furrow your brows, trying to figure out where that’s even coming from. “Uh…not true? Bruce is a fucking weirdo and shit but I actually think he gives a shit about you, Jay. Outside of Robin and Dick. You always said that, too. Like deep down you knew that, so what is it now?”

Jason grows more and more angered but he knows you aren’t going to drop it. “You were fucking right, alright?” Jason snaps back. “Should have killed the fucking Joker because he killed me. So fuck him.” Jason keeps his explanation short.

“Right yeah, had he just killed him, you wouldn’t have died and it doesn’t make up for it because too little, too late shit, but like…he did—“

“Can you fucking drop it, please?” Jason’s words come out more as a demand rather than a request. “I’m done fucking talking about it.” Jason looks at your shoulder from your back, seeing there’s no hole in the fabric.

“Sorry.” You say softly. It just doesn’t sit right with you. You’d still be pissed at Bruce, too because had he killed the Joker in the first place that wouldn’t have happened but that’s…not really Jason. He doesn’t hold many grudges and Bruce did kill the Joker. It was a little late for that but he did, to avenge Jason. Bruce didn’t throw his morals away for Dick, he threw them away for Jason and that would normally mean something to him. It’s weird but you know when to push and when not to. You're not in the mood to fight it anyway. “Just thought it was weird, is all.”

“It’s fine. Sorry.” Jason squints at the wound, seeing something shine back at him and his heart plummets. He grabs his phone, shining a light into the wound again. “The bullet is still inside.”

“Figured.” You let out a breath.

“I have to take it out.”

Your eyes land on his and you know this is about to suck. “Okay.” You nod your head.

“Lay back and hold the phone so I can see.” Jason hands you his phone as you do as told.

Jason grabs a pair of tweezers from the kit and he looks at the wound, grabbing your wrist to make sure the light is in the right position. Jason’s stomach twists into a hard knot, knowing how bad this is going to hurt. His leg starts to throb with the very thought of putting you through it. But, it has to be done. You're not going to go to an actual doctor for help and if he leaves the bullet in, it can lead to infection. So, Jason sucks in a deep breath and bends down hovering over the wound, careful not to block the light.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Jason glances up at you.

“Just do it.” You sigh, looking to the ceiling as your grip on his phone tightens.

Jason nods his head before gently sticking the tweezers into the wound. You slam your eyes shut as your jaw clenches. Your right hand grips onto the blanket beneath you as Jason moves the tweezers around. It’s burning and stinging like getting stung by a thousand hornets at once. It’s as if you're being shot in the spot over and over again as tears well behind your eyes. Jason is trying to be careful and quick, but the bullet is slippery thanks to the blood.

Your hand starts to shake as your breath grows rapid and uneven. You try your best to concentrate on anything besides the pain but that’s becoming increasingly more difficult. It was different when you were in the fight for your life. It was do or die and people can do absolutely insane things they should not have been able to accomplish in life or death situations. Your life isn’t in danger right now and even when you try to focus on something else, the tweezers move just enough and you're brought back to agonizing pain.

Given the events that happened, it’s hard for you to focus on anything other than the pain you're been in. You try to think of the good times but then those are tarnished like rusted silverware. Those good memories now come with pain, too. You try to focus on what you’re going to do about Crane because maybe that would kick in your fighting instincts but you're the one lying in a bed right now after being shot by him. Everything around you feels like it’s rusting and chipping away into a toxic pile of reds and browns. Tainted, tarnished, and broken.

Jason glances up to you and he can see the agony written in every wrinkle and pinch of your skin. And he can’t see with the phone basically vibrating in your hand. All he can even feel is anger and not at you. It’s entirely on him and Crane because at the end of the day, it’s his fault and Crane’s how you ended up here. You never should have been shot. You were only there to look out for him. You and Tim were collateral damage. So many people around Jason end up just being collateral damage. And they don’t deserve it. But, at the end of the day, he isn’t the one that pulled the trigger at you and all he wants to do is go right after Crane. Make him feel the same pain he’s put you through. And then worse.

“Y/n.” Jason says, sternly. “You have to stop moving. I can’t see.”

You swallow thickly, trying to stabilize your hand. “Sorry.” You manage to mutter through your gritted teeth.

Jason goes back to the wound but the second he sticks the tweezers into the flesh, you wince and flinch as hard you try to stay still. Jason is no stranger to this and he knows it is agonizing to pick something out of an open wound. Nerves and flesh are exposed that should not be. It’s horrendous and seconds feel like hours. And it’s triggering phantom pain in his leg as his heart feels like it’s being suffocated with barbed wire. He knows it’s bad when you're the one who can’t sit still.

Jason pulls back, putting the tweezers back in the kit before he cups your cheeks. He bends down so his face is just an inch from yours and you open your eyes slowly, your jaw still clenched and tears threatening to finally fall.

“You gotta stay still or I’m never gonna be able to get it out.” Jason’s voice is stern.

“It fucking hurts.” Your voice cracks weakly as you sniffle.

“You were almost beaten to death. This isn’t gonna fucking kill you. You’ll be fine.” Jason nods his head once at you before he presses his forehead to yours for just a second.

You nod weakly at him. “Yeah…”

“Just…stay still and I’ll be quick, alright?” Jason asks, seeing the doubt across your face. “I got you.” Jason offers a weak smile.

“Okay.” You nod your head in agreement.

Jason nods once more before he goes back to your wound. He focuses on the bullet while the tweezers hover above you and you can’t help but notice the lack of shaking in his hands. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure the last time you saw his hand so steady. Jason has always been so steady around you. An unmovable force.

Jason looks back to you, raising his brows as if silently asking if you if you're ready and all you do is nod quickly before looking back to the ceiling. Your grip tightens on the phone while you lock in place with all of your might just to try to stay steady.

The tweezers stick back into the bloody wound, carefully and steadily as they go right to the bullet. Jason keeps his eyes laser-focused on just getting the bullet out and you grit your teeth together as tears come to your eyes. But, you suck in a deep breath as you feel the metal scraping around the wound, clinging onto every part your self-control in order to stay steady. That’s when Jason finally is able to grab the bullet, pulling it out in a steady motion, careful not to drop it.

Jason holds the bullet with the tweezers as a triumphant grin comes to his lips. You peek your eyes open at him, the whites turning a bright shade of pale pink.

“Told you I got you.” Jason shrugs casually but the grin quirks into a cheeky smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah thanks.” You roll your eyes as you sniffle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, that shit was just, uh painful. I really don’t recommend getting shot.” You lay the phone down beside you before rubbing your right eye.

“Yeah, don’t plan on it.” Jason quips back. “Probably stop hurting soon without the bullet.”

“Be nice.” You let out a sigh. “And Dick really just went to bed like this. What a fucking psycho.”

"Yeah, but you went MIA." Jason narrows his eyes at you because maybe he is a little mad at you for it. They were all worried. He was worried. "You bitch about him but--"

“If you fucking say it, Jason Todd, I’ll kill you again.” You deadpan. “You two are the ones that are oddly similar, okay?”

Jason lets out a scoff. “Bullshit. I’m nothing like him.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you are. You’re different but you’re similar. You just don’t wanna see it. What? You never looked up to him before all of this shit?” You ask.

Jason sits back on his heels, dropping the bullet in the first aid kit with the tweezers to toss and clean later. “What’s to look up to?” Jason scoffs. “Being a fucking kiss ass and a goody two-shoes.”

“Because he was the first Robin.” You state casually. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, about you replacing him and shit whatever. But, didn’t you ever look up to him for even a little bit?”

Jason hangs his head and while he’s always felt less than and a bit like a failure when it came to filling his shoes, he definitely did look up to him. Dick created something so special and surreal when it came to Robin. He wasn’t Batman, he was just a kid in a suit helping Batman and that was cool. Then Bruce had all of these stories about Dick and it always made Jason want to be like him because Dick was good. That’s how Bruce always talked anyway. Jason doesn’t know that Bruce always talked about Jason in the same way when he wasn’t around. And Dick doesn’t know how Bruce would talk about him to everyone else. But Jason heard the stories and how great Dick was. He never wanted to be exactly like him but he definitely wanted to be somewhat like him. Dick’s parents were killed and he got to be Robin. By all that Jason heard, it seemed he made it out of it okay. He had Robin and he got to carry that with him. He got to have a career in helping people (kind of). Jason did want to be like him but the way he sees it, there’s a reason people say not to meet your heroes.

“Still mad about the Joker shit but…uh,” You sniffle again. “Don’t know, be a lie if I said I didn’t look up to him…and you.”

“Me?”

“I always liked your Robin.” You say quietly. “You were different. Felt like we needed your version. But I told you that.”

“Surprised you still think it.”

“I think we need someone like Red Hood.” You state, catching Jason entirely off guard.

“What? Another fucking murderer?” Jason scoffs, looking to the window above the bed before he looks back to you.

He feels so ashamed of it all at times, like right now. It's because you're the one lying here after being shot by someone Jason thought he could trust. He knows deep down, crime in Gotham needs a change. The Bat doesn't fix everything, clearly. There needs to be someone out there that is willing to do more but Jason isn't sure that's him. He already burned his bridges. He doused them in gasoline and lit a match with a smile. He feels like he's on the wrong side and there's nothing he can do to rebuild that bridge to be on the right side anymore. If there's even a right side.

“No. Someone who’s willing to do the heavy and bad shit in order to prevent worse shit from happening. Like I said, I’m not just killing people for you, it’s for all of us and everyone that will come after us. I think we need people like that and people are afraid of you and rightfully so. I dunno. Just my take, I guess.”

“Been thinking about the people I killed.” Jason lets out a breath. “Heavy shit.”

“Yeah, but a lot of that is greater good shit and the other stuff is Crane’s manipulation so you shouldn’t feel too guilty for those.” You shrug your good shoulder.

Jason shakes his head and he doesn't how you deal with any of it. You don't normally deal with much, if Jason is being honest. But, you seem to be dealing with this pretty okay. Somewhere in him, he always felt like if someone were going to go on a killing spree, you would probably be that person. Your morals have never aligned with Dick's or Bruce's. You've always felt like more could be done, permanently. But, Jason's surprised you seem so okay with it and with him killing people.

“How the fuck are you dealing with it?”

You let out a broken laugh. “I’m not.” You answer honestly. “So much shit is happening that I just…can’t.” You shake your head. “Can’t think about it.”

Jaso nods with understanding. “Yeah.” Jason sucks in a breath, deciding to drop the conversation. It feels too much again. Too loud. Too heavy. “Stay still.” Jason leans forward, grabbing the rag before he starts cleaning her wound again.

You watch him carefully. He’s not handling anything well which you can’t say you really blame him for. You wonder what you would be doing if you were in his position. How would you ever forgive yourself for not only everything that’s happened but also being manipulated? Being manipulated isn’t Jason’s fault but you know he’s probably blaming himself for it because you would be blaming yourself for it if it were you. You wonder how he feels about coming back. You haven’t really talked about it and part of that is you're just afraid to ask because talking about him dying nearly sends you into a spiraling panic attack. But, you wonder how he’s dealing with that and if he’s happy he’s back.

Jason’s hands are steady as he grabs the gauze, his brows pinched together with concentration as he goes back to the wound and you find yourself wondering if you were meant to be anyway. Everything seemed so much easier in San Francisco. You weren’t together then and it was all just fun and games. Sure, you both were kidnapped and that was bad. But, that was one thing. Meanwhile, being together in Gotham has been a shitshow since the start almost. Maybe it’s just the butterfly effect but you wonder if it was just you both trying to find solace in each other or if it was as real as it’s always felt. Maybe you were just feeding off of each other’s own self-destruction and avoidance. Maybe being together helped the other one crumble.

Your eyes scan over his face and you realize, you don’t remember the last time you saw his face bruised. But, while you were together, he was always littered in them and almost always had one somewhere on his face like a Jackson Pollock. That solidifies the thought of you. Maybe you weren’t meant to be after all. Maybe you were actually bad for each other. Maybe you being together really was just you both self-destructing, knowing damn well one of you would die and it would destroy you. Maybe being together was always a way to hurt yourselves in the worst way.

And that hurts worse than the gunshot.

You've always been so sure about him. Even when you weren't sure, a part of you was. It was always supposed to be him. Him and you. But, you were shot and you're thinking a lot about how people's lives might be better if you weren't in them anymore. You're thinking about how things might be better for Jason if you weren't together. You skew your own reality, convincing yourself you got together in order to hurt yourselves. That's all it could possibly be. You ignore every thought about you confessing how loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done. You push every thought of every soft moment you have ever had into the darkest part of your mind where they can be tainted and painted over. You push away everything Jason has ever told you and goes against everything Jason has ever believed about himself and what he deserves. It all feels like lies to yourself. It was just self-destruction because that has to be it, right?

You go back and forth with yourself. One part of you thinking this must be fact and the other part of you thinking it's just because it's a bad day. Everything feels worse on bad days and it is so easy to push everything good into a dark corner and paint right over it as if it were something different entirely. And today is a bad day. So, a part of you screams and begs for you to just ask Jason because Jason wouldn't lie. If it was all just self-destruction, Jason would tell you. He wouldn't lie about it.

“Do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You ask quietly, moving your eyes to the ceiling. "Or...was it like....real?"

Jason hears the question and pauses. He almost questions if he heard you correctly but he glances back to you and you're avoiding his stare which means he definitely did. His heart sinks and he thinks he forgot how to breathe for a second. Do you actually think that? Jason isn’t sure what would hurt more at this point. You thinking that’s all you were to him or that being all you were to you.

“What?” Jason asks, more for clarity.

“I mean like…exactly, uh, what I said. Do, uh, d-do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You chew the inside of your cheek and you regret asking. “Or…was it all real?”

The question hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine, just waiting for one of you to pull the rope and end it all. The air starts to feel stale and cold and heavy as Jason doesn’t move, processing the question.

He’s not entirely sure where that question is even coming from. This whole time, you've wanted nothing more than him and you've said that. You have told him that he is all you have ever wanted. Why would you just be a consequence? Was he just a consequence?

Jason sits all the way up, coming into view. “Do you think that?” Jason asks bluntly as his breath hangs in the stagnant air. It’s as if he is clawing at the last remaining parts of his voice to remain steady and not shatter and break.

You look back to him, following the hollowed lines of worry of his face. You aren’t sure he’s breathing and you regret asking the question. You don’t even know why you asked in the first place. It’s not like you actually want to know because sometimes not knowing is just better, less painful. And the look on his face isn’t making you feel any better because he looks torn between devasted and angry.

“I asked you first.” You say quietly.

“No.” Jason states bluntly, almost harshly.

Being with you was never him self-destructing. In Jason’s eyes, as much as it all got fucked up in the end, being with you healed more parts of him than he ever thought possible. Being with you actually healed parts of him he swore would never be put together no matter how hard he tried. You made him better. He got to be who he wanted to be with you and shamelessly, you fully accepted him. And he really thought, he could be that version of himself forever because you always convinced him he could. You made him want to put in a hard effort into coming home and thinking twice before doing something a little too reckless, outside of the whole Crane and Joker thing. You showed him what it was like to be loved without conditions. And Jason loves you still. No conditions. No consequence. No self-destruction. He loves you yesterday, today, and he is positive he’ll love you tomorrow and every day after that because he wants to.

“Do you?” Jason asks, choosing not to elaborate.

You swallow a lump in your throat. Despite your own negative thoughts, you know you don't. Not really. Maybe you thinking it is a self-destruction thing, maybe it's your way of trying in order to punish yourself for Tim and everything else. But, no. Of course, not.

“No.” Your voice is quiet and fragile, making Jason’s heart sink because he knows there’s a but coming. “But, uh..we just…we ended up here.” You let out a scoff. “And, uh, I don’t know.” You shake your head. “We said some pretty fucked up shit to each other and I know…uh, I know you were high but, uh…yeah.”

Devasted. That’s all Jason can feel because he’s one of the reasons you even asked. He knows he said some horrible shit to you and he can’t take any of it back. Words are long-lasting. They enter the air and stick to it, absorbing itself into your lungs as you pull in a breath and let it fester there. That’s where the words start and travel to your brain where they store away, pecking at you just at the right moments. No one can take words back and Jason knows that. But, he has to try anyway even if he doesn't think it’ll salvage you. You have to know you meant and mean the entire world to him still.

“I didn’t mean any of that shit, okay? I swear, I didn’t fucking mean it.” Jason states quickly. “I was fucking high and I just wanted to fucking hurt you which is fucked up and I’m fucking sorry.” Jason spits out quickly but with a fire. There is no relief coming to your face and even if you are nothing to each other after this is over, he needs you to believe him. Jason cups your face. “I fucking swear. We weren’t a fucking mistake and you were the best thing that happened to me and I fucked that up. That’s on me. You made me better. I’m fucking so sorry, alright?”

You nod against his hand. And you know. You were also high and none of the shit you said is true. You didn't mean any of it. You didn't even mean the shit you said while you were sober. Maybe it's just a part of you that needs it to be verified today.

“I know and I’m sorry, too. I don’t know. I just get thinking about it, I guess. We both ended up here and it’s just…” You suck in a breath. “I know.” You place your hands over his. “Because I said some horrible shit, too, and then I hit you. And uh…I know. It’s just…that on top of everything else that happened. Like…” You shrug softly. “You died, Jason.”

Jason drops his hands, shaking his head, putting the pieces together. There is no way in hell you really think him going off on his own is your fault. Every piece of that shit plan, was on Jason. It was on him to just wait and get help. It was on him to reach out and get help. It was on him not to trust Crane. Everything was on him. That's not for you to carry.

“You don’t really think that shit is on you, right?”

“I should have seen it.” You sputter. “I should have fucking known, Jay. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I did know and maybe I just…let it happen to teach you a lesson about being dumb out there and—“

“Stop.” Jason cuts you off sharply. “You would never let me go after the fucking Joker by myself. You never would have even if you wanted to teach me some lesson. And I don’t think that’s it either. You do the same shit I do.” Jason scoffs. “I went after him. By myself. I do what I always did. I went after him. Alone, And I died alone. Because I never fucking ask for help. That’s not on you. And it’s got nothing to fucking do with us.”

“Yeah, but if you were me?” You question. “You’d be thinking the same thing. There were so many signs and I just…somehow missed every single one of them. I have to think I ignored them and maybe not to teach you a lesson but because I was scared.”

Jason sucks in a breath and he knows you're right because if it were him, he’d never forgive himself. If the roles were reversed, he’d also be questioning how he missed it and maybe he let you do it. Maybe he ignored the signs on purpose. Jason, being on the side he is, knows for a fact you didn’t willfully ignore any sign. You have shown him time and time again that if you have any say in it, you’d never let something happen to him. But, Jason understands why you think that so he sucks in a breath and decides to take some of that Gar advice for once.

“I remember what I was thinking about while the Joker was playing whack-a-mole with my head.” Jason mutters, earning him a grimace and a glare from you.

“Really?” You give him a displeased look.

Jason shrugs. “Well…” Jason sucks in a breath with the quick raise of his brows.

“You do though?” You ask cautiously.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I…I remember everything.” Jason swallows the growing lump in his throat. “Told you that, but…yeah.” Jason nods quickly. “Remember thinking I should have just listened to you. I should have told you because you would have talked me out of it, you would have told Bruce and Dick. I’d be pissed…but you would have helped and I wouldn’t be getting killed. So…just fucking saying,” Jason sucks in a breath and goes back to your wound. “Me dying had nothing to fucking do with you and there was nothing you could have done differently. We weren’t a consequence our own self-destruction. I’m really fucking sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through.”

Your brows furrow and your heart starts to break again. It must be a horrible task to wake up every single day with memories, even down to final thoughts, about literally dying. You know it’s your own personal hell at this point but the idea of Jason reliving it every single day…it’s worse. And the fact he brought it up without you asking, you know.

“I forgive you, Jay.” You say quietly. “And I really, really, mean that, okay? Your, uh…your last thoughts…were regret?” You ask cautiously.

Jason shakes his head. “No.” Jason answers plainly. “Not all of them.” Jason lets out a breath. The last thing Jason wants is to talk about how the last thing he remembers is knowing he was going to die. You don't need to know that, that's for damn sure.“I-I don’t want to talk about it though. I really just needed you to know that.”

“Thank you, Jay." You watch him carefully, seeing something distant and broken cloud over his eyes. His brows pull together as if he's in pain and his hand starts to shake. You hope he'll talk about it one day. Maybe being brought back isn't all it's cracked up to be. "When you do want to talk, please talk t me.”

“I will.” Jason nods his head at you once before finishing up the wound.

“Maybe we were both just ticking time bombs to get here.” You suck in a breath. “I don’t think we were a consequence and it was real for me. I just…had to ask I guess.”

“Maybe we kept each other from getting here.” Jason nearly mutters the words under his breath before he goes back to fixing up your wound.

You let the silence fill the room as you think about it because maybe he’s right. It wasn’t until he died the two of you fell off the deep end. Sure, things weren’t great for you both mentally but maybe you together helped stabilize some part of you both. Maybe being together was the glue you both needed like a kintsugi sculpture. Putting broken pieces back together to be better than they were before. You both ended up here but maybe that’s better.

In the last two weeks, the two of you have learned more about each other and life and the consequences of everything. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. So, you both could be better people today. Maybe you both rely too much on each other to help you mend your broken pieces but that doesn’t mean you were bad together or you were the cause of this. That doesn’t mean who you both are today is worse. Maybe who you both are today is better because it’s honest.

You both are scared but you both are honest and you aren’t letting your fears control every aspect of everything you do. You’re both standing up for yourselves in ways you didn’t think you would. Jason is figuring out his shit now and standing where he should. Where he wants. He’s standing up against people who made him feel worthless, something he otherwise never did too much. Maybe this is who you both are meant to be in the end and maybe that’s not so bad.

“Done.” Jason backs away as you look down, seeing your shoulder bandaged. “Don’t get shot again.” Jason manages the tint of a smirk.

“Gee, I wonder why I didn’t think of that.” You mock him before you sit up and slide the hoodie on entirely.

“Yeah, you really fucking should have. I mean, get it together, babe.” Jason offers a little bit of snark, the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, fuck you.” You laugh softly. “Thank you.”

Jason nods his head. “Anytime.” Jason smiles softly at you.

You pull out your phone from your other hoodie and hand it to Jason. "It died and in the chaos, I dropped my charging block." You offer a guilty smile as Jason takes your phone and plugs it into his charger. “So, uh, what’re you gonna do about Crane? Like….fuck.” You roll your eyes.

“Kill him.” Jason spits.

“No.” You shake your head. “I was serious. I wanna kill him.”

“Seriously?” Jason quips.

“Yes. I’m sick of people making you think you’re some fucking monster when you’re not. And he fucking sucks anyway. He did everything to you, he almost got Dick killed, he’s gotten innocent people killed, he almost killed me, and he killed or almost killed Tim. Yeah, I’d like to kill him.” You let out a sigh. “I mean, if you really want to kill him for what he did to you, go for it just let me get a shot in. If it’s for me? Let me do it.”

“It’s kind of fucked we’re even having this conversation right now.” Jason chuckles. “Fine. But, I get a few fucking shots in. I meant what I said, no one gets to fuck with you again.”

“And I meant what I said. No one gets to fuck with you, Jason Todd.” You offer him a sweet smile, something that should feel off given you're talking about killing someone but instead, it brings Jason some sort of comfort.

A smirk grows onto his lips before it turns soft. “Can handle myself.”

“Okay, no the fuck you cannot.” You quip back as you let out a soft laugh. “Just because you can though, doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. I got you.” You smile softly at him. "You and me."

Jason remembers a night a few months ago and he was sitting in the library reading because things were just a little too heavy and loud that day. You walked in and started scrapbooking on the floor just so Jason wouldn't be alone. And he remembers thinking how peaceful it was, just the two of you. He remembers thinking he felt lucky.

In a world where he experiences so much pain and unfairness, he felt lucky in that moment and in every moment he got to spend with you. As much as he loves to beat himself up, especially these days, he'd like to think maybe he can be lucky again. Maybe he can be at peace again one day. If you keep on thinking this and keep a hold on him. If you're willing to not let him do this alone, just as you said all those months ago in San Francisco, maybe you can get back to where you were and maybe you both can be lucky and at peace. Maybe the universe will offer some sort of kindness for the suffering it's caused you both.

“What about the Titans?” Jason asks, clearing his throat and swallowing his own thoughts.

“Right, yeah, I uh, I need to talk to Dick still. I told them it was Crane last night, not sure really if they believed me or not. Hope so. I’m sure Gar did so that’s at least good.” You nod your head a few times, hating the idea of having to explain this whole thing to Dick. You're kind of tired of being the mediator.

“We could just go take out Crane ourselves.” Jason suggests casually as he gets up and walks to the other side of the room where he has a mini fridge seated against the wall.

"While that does sound like fun," You laugh softly because you wish you could actually just do that. It would probably put an end to all of this but Dick would lose his shit. “I have an idea.”

“I hate when you say that.” Jason groans as he grabs two bottles of Gatorade and a box of granola bars from the top of the fridge before he walks back over to you. Jason tosses the box and one of the Gatorades at you before he plops down and scoots himself so his back rests against the wall, his legs extending in front of him. "Assumed you haven't eaten or had anything to drink." Jason explains, cracking open his Gatorade while you do the same.

"Yeah, I haven't thank you." You give him a soft smile before you start explaining yourself, grabbing a granola bar before you start your ramble. “Taking Crane out would be a fun time and he deserves it and most of our problems would likely be solved. However, what if Dick is right? What if he does have something bigger planned that we don’t know about? And then we kill him and like…maybe he poisons everyone somehow or blows up the city? I don’t know. We kind of need to know. And knowing his whereabouts would also be kind of helpful. So, what if you just….side with him still? Be the inside guy, right? And then Dick will really believe us that it wasn’t you who shot us and you won’t have to worry about Dick trying to turn you in, I wouldn’t let him but still.”

Jason pauses, holding the open bottle of Gatorade to his mouth. He's pretty sure you're suffering blood loss because that's insane. It's about as insane as you saying he should take the drug to not go through withdrawal. You're losing your sanity. "He already poisoned the water." Jason states.

"He did what now?" You blink at him.

"Your phone died, yeah. The water is poisoned with something he did so don't drink it. GCPD put out an alert this morning." Jason explains.

"Oh, that's fun. Well, still. It's Crane. You know he has something completely insane planned. Probably." You scoot closer to Jason, sitting on your knees right beside him.

“You want me to work with fucking Crane after he just tried to kill you? That’s fucking insane. Do you know that?” Jason questions with a groan. He wants nothing to do with Crane, even if he could get information from him.

“Yes.” You nod once.

“Fuck no.” Jason shakes his head in the same casual manner before snagging a granola bar.

“Jay, look, okay he thinks he can still manipulate you so let him think that and find out what he’s up to.”

“He won’t tell me shit.” Jason shakes his head in annoyance as he unwraps the granola bar.

“Maybe he will now. If he just tried to kill me and you go back to him anyway, right? Say I turned on you or whatever. That I think it was a setup against me so you wouldn’t have to be the one to pull that trigger. If he knows you’ll turn on me, maybe he’ll finally trust you enough to tell you what’s going on. You’re a pretty good liar sometimes.” You urge him and you know this is an insane idea but it's what you have. The Titans will never figure out Crane's plan without some inside help. They need it.

“You said I was shit liar.” Jason argues, pointing the granola bar at you.

“Well, to me.” You chuckle softly. “I always know when you’re lying but I think you can lie pretty well when you actually need to. I mean, no one figured out you were Robin. And I think that was obvious. I met you and all I thought was that it made sense.”

“This is fucking stupid.” Jason nods his head casually.

“Yeah, well, this whole thing has been fucking stupid. You go back to Crane, work with him and I’ll stay with the Titans. You call the burner when you find shit out and I loop Dick in. You don’t have to physically be home to work with us. You find out, the Titans bring in Crane and shut down whatever shit he’s got going on, then we kill him and you go home.” You explain simply and Jason hates just how convincing you can be.

You make a good point. Jason knows he can lie his ass off, he just wanted to argue. He's worried though because Crane has a way of knowing Jason is lying. It's how he found out about you from the beginning of it all. Jason couldn't just lie because Crane would know. It wasn't exactly a life-or-death situation then though. Maybe Jason wasn't trying all that hard to get away with lying then anyway. Crane admitting his plan would be helpful and Crane thinking you turned on Jason would give Jason enough motive to give up on the Titans entirely. It's not a horrible plan but Jason isn't happy about it.

“Alright fucking fine but this is shit and you know that.” Jason lets out a groan.

“I know.” You smile. “But, it’ll be worth it when his prodigie betrays him in the end.” You scrunch your nose, smiling with pride and Jason can see the light come back to your eyes. He thinks you're gonna be okay.

“You know, kinda hot when you got a plan all ready to go.” Jason offers you a cheeky smirk, his eyes raking over you before coming back to your face.

“I do have my moments.” You grin wickedly at him. “Kind of hot when you actually do what I say.”

“Alright, fuck you. Don't get used to it, babe.” Jason chuckles, shaking his head as the white streak flops onto his forehead. “When we doing this?”

“You could head out now, meet up with Crane and I’ll head back to the manor.” You suggest before taking a bite of your granola bar.

“Alright, just, uh, be careful, please. Let me know if shit happens with the Titans. I don’t want them attacking you for this shit.”

“I got it. I’ve been dealing with them the whole time. Don’t worry, Jay.” You smile softly a him as Jason gets to his feet and stands in front of you.

There's something dark in his eyes this time. He's standing over you as if he doesn't really want to leave. His brows are pinching together in the way they always do when he's worried and his jaw is squaring. He's putting all of the pressure onto his good leg, something you still notice immediately. But, he stands as if he's an unmovable force anyway and the smirk drops from his face.

“I’m serious, alright? Be careful.” Jason sucks in a breath and you've never seen him this kind of protective over you before.

“I will, promise.” You offer him a soft nod before Jason reluctantly heads out.

Jason is still hesitant, keeping his stance in front of you and it feels wrong. It always feels wrong to just leave. But, it's not his place to offer something else in place of him leaving anymore. And he also knows the second he walks back to Crane, that'll probably the last time you see each other until it's resolved. You're going to have to go to the Titans and Dick will likely be watching you closely, to make sure you don't get yourself killed or flip sides again. A lot can happen in a day or a few days and you were just almost killed. It scares the ever-living shit out of him, the very thought of losing you the way you lost him. He hates that he's leaving again. It's what he has to do and he knows that but knowing what he has to do to end this, doesn't make the decision any easier.

Jason leans down, placing his hand on your cheek before he rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes fall closed, a soft and subtle smile coming to your lips.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid and for once, listen to Dick and Gar, alright?" Jason asks, pulling just enough to see your face.

Your brows pull together. "You want me to listen to Dick?"

Jason is still mad at him and maybe Dick wants him dead still. That's always a possibility but something Jason knows, now that he's thinking with a clear head is that Dick does try to protect the Titans. They're his family and he's the leader. And Gar is one of your best friends. The two of them won't let anything happen to you if they can stop it. He knows you taking off had nothing to do with Gar and after last night, Jason thinks Gar would try to actually stop you if it happens again.

Jason's jaw squares, reluctant to say it again. "I'm serious. You got fucking shot." Jason quips.

"Okay." You agree softly, knowing if Jason is asking you to listen to anyone, you should probably take the advice. It always means Jason is very worried and serious. Two things that are a bit unsettling. "I will, promise." You smile softly before pressing your forehead to his for a second. "Now, go, okay? I'll be fine."

Jason nods his head, pulling away and dropping his hand. "I'll call when I find something out." Jason offers one last nod before he turns and darts out of the room.

Jason heads out to an old mechanic shop to meet up with Crane and for the life of him, he has no idea why he's even agreed to this. The only thing he wants to do right about now is kill Crane. He wants to fight him and shoot him and cause him horrendous pain for what he's put you through. He could have killed you and Jason swore no one would ever get away with it. But, now he has to walk in here and pretend he's not pissed about it. He's a good liar, but he doesn't know if he'll actually be able to withhold his blooming hatred.

When Jason meets with Crane, Crane seems to be acting perfectly normal, seemingly believing Jason will always be on his side no matter what. It's something Jason finds to be interesting because he already knew Crane was arrogant. But, he didn't think he was arrogant enough to think Jason would just be perfectly fine with him after being drugged, tricked, lied to, and used. He just shot Tim, possibly ruining his chances of actually going home. He could have killed you. Jason already threatened Crane but Crane seems perfectly fine with everything and Jason's wondering if that's because he agreed to meet.

"You could have fucking killed her." Jason starts with gritted teeth as they walk into the car garage.

"Yeah...sorry about that." Crane says casually. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes, there are necessary casualties."

Crane is confident in his ability to manipulate Jason. Crane didn't have a single thing on the kid and Jason still spilled everything about Batman and the Titans. It was easy. It might become more difficult right now, but Crane is confident they'll overcome the current hurdle. After all, for the time being, Crane does still need Jason for his own disposal.

Jason wants to explode right here and take Crane out with him. A necessary causality? That's how you and Tim are being referred to? There is no such thing as a necessary causality when it comes to innocent people. Innocent people don't have to die. They don't have to be hurt. It was a choice Crane made in order to get you out of the way. To show Jason Crane is the one still running the show. And Jason has to stand here and pretend like this is all fine and lie. He's ready for this whole thing to be done and over with.

"You were right anyway." Jason sucks up his pride and do as you tell him. For that alone, Jason should get to kill him after this. "She was going to turn me in. It was all a setup, that's why she was even there."

Crane seems to perk up with Jason's words and he's hoping Crane believes him. "I did tell you she couldn't be trusted. That must be so hard to handle right now. But, see, now you know who has your back." Crane offers an eery smile. "Do I need to finish the job now?" Crane asks bluntly and he is definitely asking to gauge Jason's reaction. He doesn't miss the way Jason's hands turn into fists at his sides with his knuckles turning white.

"No." Jason states. "I'll do it." He states simply, releasing his hands.

"Good. Then you'll have nothing to worry about." Crane pats Jason's shoulder and Jason is ready to change the subject. He hopes that'll be enough bait for now.

"What the fuck is this?" Jason asks, switching the conversation as he looks around.

"This is where the victors go to rest their weary heads." Crane says.

"We didn't win." Jason argues. "They were gonna take me back but you fucked it all up." Sure, Crane did manage to poison the water but from where Jason is standing, it doesn't seem like too many people have been affected and with the alert going out, less people will likely drink the water. They didn't win anything.

"So you had a moment." Crane states simply, completely unbothered. "I've had plenty of them myself. Let bygones by bygones. I forgive you." Crane says before he pulls the cover off a yellow sports car. He lets out a sigh, as if to be pleased by the vehicle. "Sprezzatara."

Jason just rolls his eyes before he leans against the car, resting his back against the A frame. He's annoyed and he wants to get out of here. The hell if Crane forgiving him for? As far as Jason is concerned, he thinks getting him drugged was payback enough for him dealing the drug out behind his back. And Crane seems to be growing a little annoyed with him, too as he lets out a sigh before closing the garage door using the button hanging from a cable.

"Show some respect." Crane says sternly. "Sit." Crane depends, lightly gesturing towards a chair in front of a desk with a computer.

Jason does as told, sitting down and slouching in his seat.

"You know who Edward Bernays is?" Crane asks.

"The sauce guy?" Jason questions.

"Eggs and bacon." Crane says, taking a seat beside Jason. "Classic American breakfast. Do you know why?"

"What's this have to do with--"

"Pork farmers paid Edward Bernays to make it so. See, but Edward Bernays, he had this...this uncle, right? Dear old Uncle Sigmund. As in Sigmund Freud. See, and Freud taught Edward Bernays how the human mind worked. And Edward, he worked the human mind. He didn't sell the proletariat bacon. He sold them the idea that a hearty breakfast was what every doctor thought was best for them. After that, the bacon, it sold itself. Edward Bernays understood that an idea is the most powerful weapon we have." Crane explains before he swivels in his chair to face the computer, Jason eying him carefully and he's getting a really bad feeling about all of this. "It's not the product, it's how you sell it." Crane says as he brings up footage of Nightwing fighting some bad guys and Crane is in some type of editing software. "And Gotham is in need of a new product. We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you a message for the good people of Gotham.

Jason leans forward as the video starts to play, Crane already having sent it out as alert to every person in Gotham City.

Oh no.

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Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @urmomsgayforme5 // @killxz // @lovefks

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

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sehodreams · 4 months

Text

Tw and tags: MDNI, sexual content, dubcon, consensual and noncon, cum play, use of force, nipple play, taekwondo!Eunseok (I know almost nothing about this sport lol)

These are just some thoughts, if you feel uncomfortable with dark content just scroll, please.

Pd: sorry I know I haven't been answering lately, I'm in a block I think 😵‍💫

Meanwhile I leave this.

Taekwondo!Eunseok asking reader to stay after practice to have a fight together and train for the upcoming competition, and after everyone leaves, completely throw you to the floor mat and overpowering you, opening your uniform to suck and play with your nipples while you're still under his body. "Didn't we say the winner today could ask for a prize? Well, this is mine" he said when you moaned after he teased your hard nipples, pinching them between his fingers with both hands and rutting his cock over your cunt, both still wearing the white uniform pants.

Taekwondo!Eunseok being your boyfriend and using practice as an excuse to touch you and rut into you in front of people, and then, even with many still outside, taking you to the lockers and sweaty fucking you after important fights, "it's okay baby, we deserve it, don't pay attention to them, just focus on my cock and how well you're taking it"

Also, strong!reader winning a competition and he getting revenge after she publicly humiliated him when she kicked his ass in front of everyone, calling a couple of his club friends to help him catch you before you tried to run away, fucking you in the same spot you won your medal. "You look a lot better with my cum over your face than with that medal on your neck" he'd say when he jerked off in front of you while Seunghan and Sungchan, on each of your sides, made you kneel and stay still to take everything Eunseok wanted to do to you.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #dark!riize #eunseok x reader #sungchan x reader #seunghan x reader

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kirvia · 11 months

Note

Hey, do you have any rpg maker horror game recommendations?

here is my veryveryvery subjective list of rpgmaker games that i personally played thru. i probably forgot some sorry

(edit: just gonna use this as a masterlist of stuff that i went through)

playing through and/or on the to play list

forest of drizzling rain remake

lisa trilogy

in stars and time by insertdisc5

faves ever

OFF(!!!), mad father (original not the remake), ib, witch's house (read the light novel)

love these

wadanohara, omori, zeno, cat in the box, hylics, elevator hitch, any of the yume nikki stuff (my favorite is yume 2kki online)

like these too

to the moon, cold front, end roll, shtdn, hello charlotte, the gray garden, eloquent countenance, flesh, blood, and concrete, tide up, 8:11, oneshot

just silly

ao oni, superassfuck rpg, misao, too impatient

trashy but i like them but i wouldn't recc these to most people

yanderella, mogeko castle, corpse party

neutral/no strong opinions/mixed feelings; someone will probably find more merit out of these stories than me LOL I know i'm in the minority for my thoughts on certain titles here.

uri's games (mermaid swamp, strange men series, etc.), hello hello world, escaped chasm, angels of death, dreaming mary, grave of traumarei, underworld capital incident, hello...? hello?, alice mare, ayakashi akashi, faust's alptraum, pocket mirror

I did not like these.

savior of the abyss, alone, ann, the dark side of red riding hood

liked a lot but i'm waiting till it's released on steam to finish it

your turn to die

hiatus/dropped but I hear these are worth completing; i just experienced complications on my end

yuppie psycho, witch's heart, dweller's empty path

emphasis on Subjective please don't kill me </3 there are some other games in the #game recc tag that i've made that you should check out!

#game recc #rpghorror

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wikiangela · 7 months

Text

fuck it friday

it's already friday here, just after midnight, so starting today off with a new wip 😁

I'll be back with alive shannon next time, but today smth new bc I started a new smut 👀 like, this was such a random idea, and I was half asleep when I wrote this and I have no idea if I'll even finish it but here's a lil bit of it haha (I don't feel as confident about this one as I did the previous two smuts, so I'm shamelessly asking for validation bc this fic will require a lot of it lmao why do i do this to myself)

so here's a new wip that I think for now I'll call buddie phone sex smut? lol

___

Eddie’s staring at the words, for a minute pretending they’re directed at him, and at the picture, seeing his best friend like he never has before, and before he knows it, his hand is moving under the covers, over the growing bulge in his underwear, palming himself. Shit, he’s not about to jerk off to Buck. Especially since the messages clearly weren’t meant for him. That feels wrong, no matter how horny he might be. The next text from Buck doesn’t help, making Eddie's vision go red with jealousy. All it says is a panicked ‘OH MY GOD IM SO SORRY IT WASNT 4 U!!!! IGNORE IT SORRY!!!’

And, look, Eddie could say that it’s all good, delete the message, and pretend it never happened. Except, the more he looks, the more turned on he gets, and his hand starts stroking his dick through the fabric, and- and his mind is clouded by arousal and jealousy, and such strong feeling of possessive want, he’s not thinking when he throws the covers away, takes a picture of his bulge, cock hard and leaking, a wet spot visible on his underwear, and sends it to Buck in response, with a text that says ‘no worries, I liked it. fuck, I want that gorgeous cock all to myself’.

‘HOLY SHIT’ is what he gets back, and not even two seconds later, Buck’s calling him.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @andrewblur @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @jesuisici33 @diazblunt @911onabc @eddiediaztho @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @gayhoediaz @callaplums @rogerzsteven @watchyourbuck @cowboy-buddie @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @giddyupbuck @forthewolves @honestlydarkprincess @wildlife4life @spotsandsocks @disasterbuckdiaz @theotherbuckley @eowon @daffi-990

#fuck it friday #buddie phone sex smut #buddie wip #buddie fic #buddie #wikiangela writes #my writing #fic snippet #my wips #basically buck's in the middle of sexting someone else and sends some stuff to eddie and eddie goes crazy with jealousy lol #this fic will require so much research for what i want from it and def beta reading once it's done lol #im so unsure about it i was debating whether to share it since sunday and just almost changed my mind lol #buddie smut #smut #new wip #yet another smut jfc I can't stop lmao

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j0kers-light · 4 months

Note

Hiiiii!!! Can I be known as 🥁anon? I was the one who requested Jokers music taste and the instrument one!! (So glad you liked them btw, you write so welll!!!!!!)

How about 10 signs that joker is in love/likes someone and his love language? I mainly imagine him as someone who denies the idea (just like in HL) but still acts on his feelings in his own way- maybe leaving gifts around and denying any sort of accountability for them?

“I’m telling you, you’ve had that necklace on before” - “Huh? I didn’t even know you liked hand bags.” - “You SERIOUSLY forgot you owned that car?”

Welcome 🥁 anon!!

A huge hey hi to you! Yes, your requests were so much fun to fill, I hope I did them some justice! Ahh! Thank you, I'm happy you love mi work! 😭😭🥹

Lol, ten signs that Joker is in love? YOU MEAN, TEN THINGS HE HATES ABOUT YOU? 🥴 sorry not sorry.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy 🥁 anon! 🖤✨

Denial is a river in Egypt because Joker refuses to admit that he loves you! But he's a man where the saying, "Actions speak louder than words” applies. He won't say it (lol Meg from Hercules) but there will be signs he’s in love.

Joker is already attentive but he's even more so as he begins to accept his feelings. He listens and retains the tiniest details about you so he can use the information for later. J shocks you when he remembers your obscure food order (and the extra sauces) when you only said it once in passing three months ago. Joker doesn't know, but his love language is heavy influenced by actions.

Another sign is Joker being more supportive. He's always in your corner motivating you to do anything you set your mind to but now he's more focused on your future with him. If you want a promotion, one is suspiciously available the next week or if you can't take the stress of your job and want to quit, Joker will offer to support you financially. You ask for it, Joker will make it happen.

Joker becomes more protective than ever. If the security cameras and secret detail wasn't enough proof how much Joker loves you, the way his eyes never leave your sight in public, the way he rests his hand on your lower back in crowds, or protects you from danger (that he may or may not have caused) is telling. Joker has never been a knight in shining armor before and he loves having something to protect. He will always protect his Light and takes his responsibility seriously.

Once he admits he's falling hard, Joker will become clingy and start introducing his love language of physical touch to you more. For years, he never let anyone close but you have that honor now. He holds you close while you're cooking, he plays with your hands during movie night marathons, and he denies enjoying cuddles—he's just cold—but you know better. Joker can't stop touching you in someway shape or fashion. He’s addicted now.

Which brings us to another sign. Gift giving is another one of Joker's strong love languages but this man will deny deny deny ever getting you anything!! He leaves them around for you to find and dramatically gasps when you do. "Gee Bunny, I don’t know why there's a shiny new hand bag on your bed.. I didn't know ya liked 'em." Or, "Ya don't know your own closet Bunny? This new winter coat still has the uhh, tag on it." Followed by a, "What a coincidence! Twenty-nine reported subway muggings just this week and you win a uhhh surprise car! Don't ya re-mem-ber entering that contest doll?" Joker loves buying you things but he sucks at lying.

Joker tends to forget his version of love is not normal so he gets possessive a lot. He's a jealous man by nature and if he sees competition, he will eliminate it. You don't need to know why the flirtatious guy at the front lobby no longer works there, or the guy that gave you his number was found dead the following day.. The thing is! Joker finally admitted that he loves you! He will not let anyone take you away from him.

Another sign from Joker is his sudden willingness to communicate. J is a mysterious, closed off individual. Its an honor to know anything about him so when J sits you down and opens up about his time spent in Arkham or explains what his childhood was like (but cautious, it could still be lies)— consider it a miracle. Joker is opening up to you! He wants you to know more about him and his shy, hesitant eyes staring into yours shows that he's vulnerable doing so. Don't take advantage of him in this state or you'll lose him forever.

Speaking of forever, you know Joker is all about planning. His backup plans have backup plans from B-Z. One day he found himself staring up at the ceiling planning on how to make things official with you and now it’s all he can think about. You’re not a secret and he’s tired of treating you like one. It'll be dangerous if he announces you as his girl, (you'll never be safe) but Joker wants the world to know that you love him so he stares off into the void and plots a way for it to work.

Contrary to popular belief Joker is not cold hearted. He can be passionate when the need arises and he cranks it up to 100% with you. Joker never had a healthy relationship so he tends to forget the intensity in which he loves you. He has so much emotion to give that he literally leaves you breathless. His kisses are greedy and desperate, and the way he clings to you during sex makes you combust with love. This man doesn't even know he can destroy you with a single touch and it’s better he remains blissfully unaware.

And lastly. The ultimate sign that Joker loves you. The moment Joker takes you to his main hideout, walking hand in hand, where anyone can see— is the moment you know he loves you. When Joker exposes you to his world, there’s no going back. You’re the one and when he orders all of his men in for a manatory meeting you're in tears. It’s finally happening.

"Good evening gentle men. I have a special announcement tonight." Joker pulls you to stand in front of him and proceeds to wrap his arms around you possessively.

Your heart is beating out of your chest while all of these men stare at you in shock. You don't blame them.

Joker is nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck but you miss the dark gleam in his eyes. They spell murder for anyone that dares to defy him. He scanned the crowd, looking for any naysayers.

"This is my Bunny and I'll kill anyone.. who's gotta problem with it."

#thanks 🥁 anon #thanks for the ask!#ledger joker #heath joker #the dark knight joker #joker x y/n #dark knight joker #ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #reader insert #black!fem!reader #swf headcanon #ten things i hate about you #his lighthouse

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panoffrying · 28 days

Text

My Shamura Headcanons

Part 1

Hello! So I will warn it’s hard for me to explain things in text sometimes so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense😭 but imma do my best. The “Look what you made me do” video explanation is at the bottom.

Also thank you so much @7moonbird for helping me write this💜💜🦐 a lot of this is her ideas too.

So right now I don't have anything set in stone, but Shamura is the deity of Knowledge and War. I imagined that Silk Cradle🕸️ used to be lands full of creatures both knowledgeable and powerful. However, when Shamura got their skull split, they started to loose their mind because of the brain damage. They were losing that domain of wisdom and with that soon all of silk cradle became nothing but war, all the creatures there just want to fight with no other thought in mind.

Also, when the siblings(bishops) went into purgatory they relived their deaths over and over again, Shamura is the last to be saved and stayed in that cycle the longest. 🐛🐸🦑🕷️

And despite Shamura caring for their siblings, they were strict and I imagine their belief in upholding the balance was so strong that in the end it hurt the siblings one way or another. So I feel like when it was time for Shamura to be saved, it had to be something all the bishops agreed upon. Narinder probably took the longest to convince which caused Shamura to be in there longer. So when the lamb comes around,

Shamura 1: had brain damage before going into purgatory that caused them to forget things quite often.

2: has been stuck in a loop fighting their death constantly to the point of insanity for heaven knows how long.

They are at a point where they don’t recognize anything.

The Look what you made me do Video Explanation

Here’s the video

The lamb and Narinder go to get Shamura out, Aym and Baal tag along too lol they are hungry for adventure.

But Shamura is at such a point of pain and insanity that when they get there Shamura is just fighting to fight, it's the only thing they can do. They don’t recognize the lamb or anyone else there, their vision is red. 🚩

The crown is having a few issues that I’ll explain in a different post hopefully, when I get a better idea of it. But the lamb starts having crown issues during the battle and everyone starts to realize that Shamura will be a difficult opponent that they need to plan more on how to fight them. Shamura ends up stabbing lambert the moment there’s an opening 🤷‍♀️🧍

#tartys rambles #moonbirds ideas #my headcanons #cult of the lamb shamura #cult of the lamb bishops #cult of the lamb #cotl #cotl shamura #bishop shamura #Shamura headcanons #cotl headcanons #my au #cotl au #cult of the lamb headcanons

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mechformers · 1 year

Text

Ma Miles - Ch. 12

8.1k words

Chapter warnings: Death, Depiction of dead people, Removing weapons from said dead people, wounds, blood, near-drowning experience, funeral of sorts. (I swear, this story has a happy ending lol Just be careful with these tags if they apply to you <3 )

As always, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for commenting and sharing your excitement and thoughts with me! I really am so grateful and it brings me so much joy <3<3

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 13

Quaritch didn’t return with your son that night. Didn’t return to talk with you about what had happened between you. In fact, he didn’t return at all. As night presses on and a knock sounds at your door, it opens, only to reveal three heavily armed warriors. You go with them, still afraid to put up a fight in case they’ll retaliate when Spider eventually is returned to you. It’s early morning when you’re led back to your room, your body humming as it aches, your nose still freely dripping blood. They’re not getting anything out of you, you’re making sure of that, but the mental fight costs you a lot of energy. With the unit gone, you’re not being fed, the food they all collected in the common room on the other side of the locked door. You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you wake up you’re still on the ground where the warriors had left you, the sun streaming in through the see-through metal walls.

Getting yourself up to your feet, you hiss at the way your body aches. Stepping into the bathroom, you look at yourself in the reflection part of the wall, noting how the blood had left an ugly, crusted trail down your chin. Rubbing at it, you wince as it pulls at your skin before flaking and falling off. Opening the water stick, you opt for running water through the crusty blood, watching as it colors the water a dirty pink. Looking up at your own reflection again, you feel your heart sink at how tired you looked. As your stomach rumbles angrily, you close the water stick and wipe the excess water off your face with your hand.

The nest is warm when your tired body hits the blankets, sinking into the softness as your body immediately starts drifting again. When you open your eyes next, Eywa has draped the dark blanket of night over Pandora once more. There is still no sign of Spider, no sign of the unit as the hallway stays just as quiet as before. Rolling around to lay on your back, you stare up at the gray ceiling, letting your mind stay blessedly empty as you continue to rest. Your head hurt and your muscles were sore, aching with every small movement you made. Closing your eyes, you try to ignore the way your stomach aches or the way the hunger makes you nauseated.

Your meditative state is probably why you don’t hear the commotion going on outside before the door to your room swings open. Immediately, you’re on your feet, watching as Lyle leads Spider into the room, his big hand holding firmly onto the back of your son’s neck. You don’t understand what’s happening. Where was Quaritch?

“I’m sorry,” Lyle mumbles, unable to meet your eyes as he lets go of Spider before he backs up towards the door, closing it behind him.

No more than a blink of the eye goes by before Spider runs up to you, climbing your taller frame as you instinctively wrap your arms around him, feeling his strong little legs lock firmly behind your back. You feel his chest expand against yours and then, the first sob falls from his lips. It absolutely breaks your heart the way he wails, clinging to you as if his very life depended on it. Rocking him gently, you walk back and forth from the door to the see-through metal wall, letting your son cry his fill. While you wait, your anger and fury guilds inside of you, your mind coming up with different scenarios that might have upset your son like this. Everything had been wonderful the previous morning when he had left with his father. Spider had been so excited to fly on Cupcake again, to spend more time with Quaritch. What could have possibly happened?

In the end, Spider quiets down, his wailing becoming sobs that eventually dwindle down to a few sniffles before it dies down completely, your son’s head resting quietly on your shoulder as you continue to silently comfort him. You’ve never seen Spider cry this way before, never experienced this kind of heart-wrenching sorrow in your son. It makes you feel powerless in a world beyond your control.

“He burnt down the villages, mom,” Spider whispers, his voice rough from crying, “He killed the Olo’eyktan’s Ilu,”

“What are you saying, my dearest love?” The words your son whispers don’t register the way they should, because, if what you just heard actually happened…

But what Spider said was the truth. As you sat your son down in your nest, sitting down with him, he starts from the beginning, telling you about how they had gotten information about a helicopter flying to the islands to the east. He told you about how Quaritch took them all back to the base before leaving again only a few hours later, pressing Cupcake to catch up to a huge ship on the water. He told you about how he was forced to translate for the reef villages, the people, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk, talking way too fast for Quaritch to understand. Then, with tears in his eyes, he told you how his father had ordered Lyle to kill the Olo’eyktan’s Ilu and how everything had escalated from there. Rage filled you when Spider told you about how he begged his father not to shoot the Tsahìk, and how Quaritch instead burned down the village before dragging him away.

“He burned down two more villages after that, mom, and there was nothing I could do to help them,” The absolute heartache in your son’s voice made the fire inside of you burn brighter. “There was nothing I could do, mom…”

Collecting him in your lap once more, you hold him as close to you as possible, kissing his head and whispering to him how proud you were and how brave he had been. That he had done everything he could to help, that he had saved the Tsahìk. Inside of you, your blood boiled with rage. Quaritch had been so curious, so willing to learn, so… But it had all been this thing they called a lie. Of not speaking the truth. One of the cruel words that the sky people brought with them when they arrived all those years ago.

“Have you eaten?” You try to distract your son with something else when silence has claimed the room.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t very hungry,” Spider mumbles, his head resting on your chest where he sat in your lap, leaning into your body.

“That is good,” You cup the side of his head with your hand as you lean down to kiss his hair, wrapping your other hand around his waist.

Leaning back against the wall, you stare out of the see-through metal wall, wondering what was going on. Eywa had shown you that Quaritc was someone special, someone worth your patience and guidance when the atokirinas had covered him from top to toe. A clearer sign could not have been made and yet, he had turned against the Na’vi, against your son - against you. Closing your eyes, you listen to Spider’s breathing even out, your son exhausted from the emotional turmoil his father had put him through.

The sun has barely risen when the door to your room opens once more and this time, Quaritch walks in. His face is one of stone, but for a short moment, when his eyes land on you, it melts into something soft, something almost gentle while his ears round and rotates forward towards you. It’s gone in the next moment, his ears snapping back against his skull, his expression replaced by the stern coldness of the sky demon from all those months ago.

“Get to your feet, kid,” He growls out, gesturing with a hand motion for Spider to move.

Stepping out of your nest, you pull Spider behind your frame while backing up to the see-through metal wall. Squaring your shoulders, you level him with the most furious stare you could muster. Quaritch would not get to your son, would not lay a hand on him again as long as you could help it. When he steps forward, you hiss at him, the sound loud and menacing, halting him in his movement. His tail thrashes angrily behind him, the tip flicking rapidly back and forth with the movements.

“Step away from the window, sweetheart,” Quaritch drawls, scowling at you as his hands ball into fists by his side.

“I will not,” You sneer, stepping even further back into the window, creating a protective cocoon around your son against the cold metal.

“Step. Away,” Quaritch growls menacingly as he steps forward, making you hiss furiously loud, smacking your foot forward against the ground in a warning.

“I have never raised my hand at a woman before, but lord have mercy on my soul, you’re trying my patience, darling,” He sneers, the growl so deep it sends a shiver down your spine. “Lyle, Prager,”

You’re not moving, your resolve even stronger with his threat of harming you. But he’s too quick when he suddenly steps forward and reaches for your wrist, harshly pulling you away from the window and your son. Lyle and Prager step up from beside him, their hands binding yours behind your back as they force you to kneel on the ground before Quaritch. The sharp yellow eyes stare at you harshly before he steps up to Spider, hoisting him up over his shoulder. You thrash so wildly against Lyle and Prager, that two more hands come to hold you down.

“Spider!” You scream for your son, watching in horror as he thrashes against Quaritch, rolling and thrusting his body to loosen his grip on him. “No!”

“Shut your pie hole, woman” Quaritch growls menacingly as he walks past where you’re pinned to the floor, screaming and hissing as you call for your son.

“Mooom!” Spider howls as he twists, his knee connecting with the demon’s nose and just for a moment his feet hits the ground, sprinting towards you before he’s lifted up again. “No, put me down, you monster!”

You can hear him long after the demon has taken your son away from you, his screams echoing down the hallway, stinging your bleeding heart. You’re bound before suddenly, the people holding you down disappear, sprinting out of the door, shutting it closed before you can snap the smooth, hard bonds they had bound your wrists together with. Smashing against the door, you thrash against it time and time again, clawing at the metal, kicking and screaming.

Running to the window, you’re just in time to see the units Ikrans fly away in the distance. Anger unlike anything you had ever felt before filled you, the betrayal all-consuming as you sank to your knees, tears rolling down your face. There’s no sound leaving you, no wails of sorrow or screams of anguish. Instead, you sit there, silently waiting, patient for what you know will come. As morning turns to day and day turns to night, you sit quietly until the knock on the door sounds and the three heavily armed warriors come for you once more. Following them like normal, you count your turns until you reach your destination.

Taking hold of the warrior in front of you, you lift him up before quickly, with all your might, slinging him around, smashing him into the two warriors behind you. The force is enough for all of them to go down, but you don’t stick around to find out for how long. Picking up the small white door opener from the front warrior, you run to the door that you now know, after weeks of following the exact same route, will lead to the hallway that again leads to the halls before the bridge. Smashing the white door opener against the box on the side of the door, you feel relief when it swishes open like you had hoped it would.

It’s touch and go after that, as guards come up far behind you, shooting in your direction as you’re chased through the building. Alarms are blaring but you don’t stop, smashing the door opener against each box in your way until you eventually reach the bridge. There’s full confusion as guards swivel around the compound, not really knowing what’s happening. Behind you, you can hear the General Ardmor’s voice shouting desperately for her warriors to not let you escape. Screeching for hawnu, you run full speed against the low wall before you throw yourself out from the bridge, spreading your arms as you’re free-falling. You see Hawnu rapidly sweeping in from your right, flying up to catch you, having responded to your call immediately.

Landing clumsily on his back, you manage to quickly make tsaheylu, directing Hawnu to fly through rugged terrain once you’ve cleared the Kill Zone, knowing by now that the sky people’s metal machines can’t fly through it. Hawnu flies so quickly you’re having trouble holding on, his movements so fast as he twists and turns through the rugged terrain. He doesn’t slow down until your fear of being discovered has disappeared, knowing that the sky people have lost your trail. Running your hands up Hawnu’s long, powerful neck, you ask his forgiveness as you beg him to take you north toward the reef villages.

Ever the kind soul, Hawnu sends reassuring feelings your way, reminding you that Spider is strong, that he can manage until you reach him. Still, your heart beats loudly with worry for your son while Hawnu takes you through the landscape of Pandora’s coastal line as fast as he’s able to. The demon and his unit are an entire day ahead of you, no doubt having already wreaked havoc on the reef villages along the coast in their hunt for Jake Sully. You prayed to the great Mother that your son would be safe, that the demon at least cared enough to keep your son from harm's way.

The entire day Hawnu takes you closer and closer to the tribes. You can already see the smoke on the horizon, but by the time you reach the smoke, the eclipse will be upon you, bathing Pandora in darkness for a while. Hawnu doesn’t ask for breaks, doesn’t ask for the speed to slow down, if anything, he only speeds on as he feels your fear through your bond. As the smoke quickly approaches, your fear is replaced with dread. What you arrive at, takes your breath away.

Death is spread everywhere your eyes land. There are sky people floating in the water, Eywa’s children illuminating them from below the sea. There’s Na’vi there too, from the sea tribes you note in the slight difference in physique. Hawnu floats through the air, quickly approaching what must be the ship Spider had talked about. It’s quickly sinking while the people on it fight, the sound of guns and cries echoing.

But as you’re quickly approaching the sinking ship a small blue shape catches your eye. There are orange glowing bioluminescent fish swimming around the rock, circling it almost protectively. In your desperate search for your son, something commands you to ask Hawnu to land on the rock formation in the sea. You know that shape, has seen him grow from a small baby to a fine young man, along with your son. As Hawnu gently lands, you step off, quickly kneeling by Neteyam’s side.

His body is cold when you lay shaky hands on his skin, checking for a heartbeat - finding none. Leaning down, you put your ear to his dark blue lips, but you can’t hear his breath. He’s bleeding from a round wound in his chest, the young boy taken from his family long before his time. Closing your eyes, you send a prayer to Eywa, praying for his parents, praying for his siblings - praying for Neteyam to find his way to the tree of souls belonging to the sea tribe.

“Dead Na’vi doesn’t bleed,” You whisper, your eyes shooting up to stare at the young boy.

True enough, Neteyam’s wound bleeds an ever-so-slow stream of blood. Pressing your fingers to Neteyam’s pulse, the same way Norm Spellman had taught you to do with Spider as a young baby, you’re relieved to find a barely there pulse. Getting to your feet, you gather Neteyam’s heavy body in your arms, feeling the difference in his size from Spider. Clumsily, you manage to get him onto Hawnu’s back, getting on your Ikran before quickly making tsaheylu. You ask him to find the only place that might be able to help the young boy now - the three of souls.

As Hawnu takes off from the rock, you turn your head to look at the sinking ship. Spider might be on that ship, a voice in the back of your mind tells you, making your heart clench painfully in your chest. Holding Neteyam’s cold body to your chest, you close your eyes as you tell yourself no. His father wouldn’t do that to him, wouldn’t leave your son to drown alone. You had to believe that, had to believe that your son would be safe and sound somewhere far from the carnage behind you.

The eclipse breaks just as Hawnu soars through some floating rocks in a huge formation. It’s in the middle of the sea, well hidden from prying eyes, and in the middle, you could already see the glow of the Great Mother welcoming you - guiding you to where you needed to go. Hawnu lands gently on a rock close to the water’s edge, the tree of souls just below, glowing so brightly as it pulses. Praying to Eywa to guide you, you lower the both of you into the surprisingly warm water. Put your lips to Neteyam’s, you dive down, down, down, clumsily swimming with the young boy, breathing with him until you eventually reach the tree of souls. The Great Mother’s vines are beautiful as they stretch out to meet you, gently wrapping themselves around Neteyam’s body, creating a mask in front of the boy’s nose and mouth. Taking the Neteyam’s queue, you connect it as gently as you can to the biggest vine you can find.

For long moments, nothing happens. Praying to Eywa, you ask her forgiveness for believing that the sky people could change, you pray for her to save Neteyam despite your betrayal, praying for the Great Mother to show the young boy mercy. It was not his time to go and she must know that. Still, nothing happens - until it does.

The vines drag Neteyam closer to the core, Eywa’s vines pulsing powerfully as Neteyam’s bioluminescent dots glow brightly across his entire body. Relief washes through you as your mind goes dizzy, your lungs painfully constricting in your chest, but all you can think about is how you made it in time to help Neteyam. Your mind tells you to swim up, to get air, but your heart ushers you to stay with Neteyam, to guard him where he floated in the Great Mother’s arms. But before you can do much about anything, another vine reaches for you. Instinctively, you know what to do, connecting your queue to the glowing vine, and just like that, air fills your lungs, your eyes watering underwater at the sweet relief that courses through you as your lungs work hard to regain what had been lost.

Swimming closer to Neteyam, you take the young man’s hand in yours, holding it tightly as you start repeating the healing chant in your mind. You’re no healer, no Tsahìk, but at that moment, you don’t want to leave any stone unturned if it could help Neteyam heal from his grave wound. You can’t help the desperate laugh that bubbles out of you when Netayam’s chest expands once, twice, then all the time. It’s shallow, but it's unmistakably there.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, but as night just barely turns to day above water, the skies a flaming orange, the vines eventually let the young man go. Immediately, you wrap your arms around him, kicking tiredly as you swim up toward the surface. Breaching the water, you gasp for air as you clumsily grab hold of the rock. Hawnu screeches happily when you emerge, stepping closer to the water in an attempt to help you. Pushing Neteyam’s heavy body up, you eventually get him on the rock, laying his head in your lap as you wait for him. With your hand resting above his heart, you let your tears roll down your face, thanking the Great Mother for saving the young man’s life. You don’t know how long you sit there after that, but when Neteyam opens his eyes and recognizes you, you don’t care.

“Neteyam,” You greet, his name nothing but a wet breath of air from your lips as you smile down at him.

There’s such a confused look on his face, but it disappears when he scrunches his face in pain. The wound in his chest doesn’t bleed freely anymore, but it’s still open, looking red and angry in contrast to his blue skin. There’s a scared whine coming from his throat and immediately, you take his hand, shushing him lightly.

“You’re alright, Neteyam, you’re alright,” You try to comfort him, but it doesn’t help.

The young man sobs once, twice and then the whines come on a string, his tears falling while he tries to hide his face. Having none of it, you gather him up in your lap as gently as you can with his wound, wrapping your arms around him as you hide his face in your neck, rocking him gently. You don’t know how Neytiri comforts her son, don’t know his songcord, so instead, you sing children's rhymes to him, songs from when Spider was a baby, songs from Dr. Augustine’s ruined school. You don’t let go of him, not even when he quiets down. He was still just a child in your eyes, still younger than Spider.

“Thank you,” Neteyam croaks from beneath your chin, his hand still holding onto your chest piece.

“You don’t have to thank me, Neteyam,” You hum back at him, continuing to rock the young man in your arms.

Eventually, you need to move. Walking over to Hawnu, you rummage through his bags, knowing there was a small emergency wound kit in it, just in case you would ever need it for Spider. The time he fell as a young child and broke his arm, never left your mind. Wrapping Neteyam’s wounds as best as you could, applying the few healing pastes you were able to make from the dried herbs, you ask him what happened.

“The sky demon came for us, the one father calls Colonel Miles Quaritch. They smoked us out by hunting the Tulkuns. They shot a newly made mother, the sister of the Metkayina’s Tsahìk, Ronal,” Neteyam started, his eyes wild as he looked into yours.

“They hunted Tulkun?” You gasp, anger burning brightly inside of you at the disrespect for life.

“They took Lo’ak, Tsireya, and Tuk hostage on the ship,” Neteyam starts and immediately, your blood runs cold.

“Neteyam, did you see Spider?” You can’t help but interrupt him.

Neteyam’s face lights up at the mention of Spider’s name. Beaming up at you he tells you about how they saved Spider from the sky people on the ship and how they escaped together, jumping from the ship as the recombinants shot at them. He tells you how one of the bullets hit him and how he was so sure that he was called for. You gasp a breath of both relief and anger, letting your tears stream from your face as you lift his hand to your forehead, thanking him for coming back for Spider. The both of you send a prayer to Eywa before you help the young man up on Hawnu’s back, sitting close behind him as you hold him tightly to your chest.

Your mind is screaming at you as you ask Hawnu to take you over the battlefield once more. Neteyam sleeps soundly in your arms, his exhaustion taking him under quickly once the adrenaline from waking up burned away. In your mind, you walk through the story that Neteyam had told you. About how the unit had shot at the kids, had shot at your son. You didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to believe that these people, the very people you had lived with for months, trained, taught, and come to think fondly of, had willingly raised their guns at children and fired their weapons.

It couldn’t be. Neteyam had to be wrong. But then again, the demon had taken Spider, had attempted to take the other kids too. Was it so far-fetched that Neteyam spoke the truth? Although you didn’t want to believe it, something deep within you already knew the truth. Your heart broke as your eyes filled with water, a silent sob escaping you as you closed your eyes for only a second. You needed to be strong, you reminded yourself. Needed to be strong for Spider’s sake.

Yet… when Hawnu flies closer to the wreckage and your eyes land on a familiar blue figure, your anger melts away to sorrow. For just an instant, you entertain the thought of just leaving him to be washed away by the sea, to be forgotten for his sins against the Na’vi, but the further you fly away from him the more your lungs refuse to work. Your eyes are watering as you bite the inside of your cheeks, betrayal, and anger burning brightly within you. How stupid he had been to follow this path, especially when he was learning to accept Eywa in his heart.

Turning Hawnu around, your heart sinks even further when you spot another blue figure floating in the water. This was a massacre. This once sacred and beautiful place, nothing but a graveyard, a casualty of an unnecessary war. Hawnu gently lands on a rock, making sure not to rock Neteyam as he lowers down to the stones, making your way down from his back easier. Making sure that Neteyam rests comfortably, you wipe your eyes before stepping into the water. Swimming out to the recom, you clumsily turn him around in the water before wrapping an arm around him. Kicking your legs, you haul his heavy body to the rock, dragging him up and out of the water.

Brown’s lifeless face stares up at you and you can’t help the choked-out sob that leaves you. His death was so meaningless to you, the young man a gentle soul when only he put his stupidity aside. Now he lay on the rock before you, a deep wound in the crook of his neck as well as a deep stab wound to his chest. Both of them had long since stopped bleeding. Closing the man’s eyes, you shut your own, allowing yourself a moment to grieve.

But the sky people have never allowed the Na’vi to grieve for long. Before long, you’re out in the water again, this time to collect Ja, only to discover that it’s Lopez when you turn him around on his back. He holds Neytiri’s arrow deeply embedded in his heart. Hauling him back to the rock, you pull him up to lay beside Brown, the two of them looking so out of place in their silly sky-people clothing. Letting your tears of sorrow and anger fall, you look to the skies in despair. Nine recoms left the day before, two of them lay before you. You knew you had to find the others, to give them the same peace you would wish them to have given you, should you have been in their place right now. So with that, you dive back into the water, swimming past dead sky people until you found another recom, and then… another.

Somehow, you manage to get Z-Dog and Seanfike to the rock, gently laying them beside their brothers. They had both been killed by Neytiri, her arrows sticking out of them grotesquely. Exhausted, you breathe heavily as you look at the four recoms before you, four lives wasted before they could fully appreciate the way of Eywa. You mourn for them, feeling your heart drop heavily as you look out over the bright sea, knowing that somewhere within it, there were five more out there.

Roughly wiping your tears, you square your shoulders and dive into the sea once more. The past few months, you had grown to care for the weird unit, their endearing sides slowly but surely revealing themselves as they grew closer and closer to the Great Mother. Although you hadn’t grown as close with all of them, you still cared for their wellbeing, still cared that they would find their way to the tree of souls. It was the last thing you could offer them, a peaceful place for them to rest their weary souls. With a new resolve, you push on, kicking your legs harder to move forward through the wreckage strewn around the water. You don’t know how long you searched for the others, but by the time you find Prager pinned to the deck of the sunken ship, you’re beyond exhausted. The morning is quickly turning into midday and beyond Prager, there has been no sign of any of the other four. Getting your last recom to the rock, you’re surprised to find Neteyam sitting by the other side of Hawnu.

“Neteyam, how a-”

“Why are you picking them up?” Neteyam frowns, his voice angry and confused, “They’re killers Y/n. They’re the ones who shot me,”

“Neteyam,” You flinch at his words, having already gathered that one of your recoms had shot the boy in front of you.

“No! They took the other, Y/n. They took your son! They took my siblings…” Neteyam’s voice breaks on the last word, tears actually falling from his stoic eyes, “They want my mother and father dead,”

“Oh, sweet little one,” You whisper as you let go of Prager’s body and step up to Neeyam, wrapping him in a hug. At first, he pushes your arms away, his anger and confusion driving him. But in the end, he lets you hold him, leaning his head against the crook of your neck as he lets silent tears fall.

“It’s alright to cry, Neteyam. You’re no less of a warrior for showing emotions,” You whisper into his ear, hoping it’s the words he needs to hear to let go of the anguish he’s trying so desperately to hide.

And to your relief it is. The boy who has carried the weight of being Jake Sully's eldest son on his shoulder breaks down in your arms and allows himself to be vulnerable, to be held, for just a while. Rocking him gently, you let him dispense of the built-up emotions inside of him, letting him dump it and allowing him to breathe for the first time in what feels like forever. Eventually, he falls silent, breathing heavily in your arms.

"Why are you helping them?" Neteyam asks, his voice still filled with confusion, but the anger, this time, is gone.

"They were a unit, thrust into this world in bodies they didn't understand. Although they weren't the best people in their previous life, they accepted Eywa in their souls while I taught them the Great Mother's ways, and I came to care for them" You say slowly, letting him mull over the words you're saying.

"If they had accepted Eywa, then why did they do this?" Neteyam asks all the right questions, the questions you yourself want to be answered. But you don't know the facts and speculating have always been a dangerous path to thread.

"I believe, that when you're a warrior, you're so used to taking orders from your leaders, that you just do them. Even the leaders take orders from their own leaders, you know," You start clumsily, but Neteyam nods gently, letting you continue without interrupting and the fact breaks your heart. "Maybe they didn't have a choice? Maybe they just reacted to the orders without thinking? These are questions we will never know the answer to now,"

"I think he's the one who shot me," Neteyam confesses, pointing at Prager's dead body. "The guy with no hair and blue eye covers stopped after the first shot was fired. He did not, even though the other guy shouted at him to stop firing, "

“I’m so sorry, Neteyam.” You whisper against his skull while holding him close. “His name was Prager,”

“Prager,” Neteyam repeats and you hope that knowing his name will bring him some form of comfort. “Where will you take them?”

“I have to reunite them with the Great Mother,” You don’t know how the younger boy will react to that, but to your surprise, Neteyam looks up at you with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“You’ll need something they can float on then,” He starts, a small smile on his lips as he searches the water for something, “Like that ship,”

Looking in the direction Neteyam points in, you see an orange and black ship floating in the distance. It’s big enough to fit the five recoms you have found, easy enough for Hawnu to move them to the rock formation and the tree of souls. Still, your heart constricts painfully at the four you haven’t been able to find, their bodies sunken to the bottom or destroyed beyond the ability to collect them. It was not in your power to retrieve them, but still, you mourned. They were the four recoms you grew closest to.

“You’ve done enough, Y/n,” Neteyam offers you bravely, his face trying to hide the pain that he’s in.

It sets your resolve to move on. You had done everything you could for Lyle, Mansk, and Ja, had rounded up their unit, and were going to reunite them with Eywa. You prayed to the Great Mother that their souls would find rest. You comforted yourself with the fact that they would have each other before you stood up and dived into the water once more. Swimming to the small ship took longer than you anticipated, your lack of energy showing itself in your exhausted body. Hungry, thirsty, and sleep deprived, you eventually reached the ship, approaching it carefully in case any of the sky people in it were still alive.

They are not. Inside the open ship, a dozen sky people lay dead, their small bodies bloodied and twisted in weird directions. It’s obvious to you that something, or someone, horrible happened to them. Climbing onboard, you gently lift their small bodies over the edge letting them sink into the sea. It isn’t lost on you that many of the sky people are smaller than your son, so with each one, you check behind the mask, just to be sure. Neteyam had told you that Spider was safe with his family, but you had experienced firsthand just how “safe” that could be.

With the ship cleared, you hauled it after you, back to the rock. Neteyam sat against Hawnu’s body, looking at Prager with haunted eyes. A part of you wants nothing more than to protect that precious boy, to avenge him, but although the mother in you screamed for revenge, your heart mourned his short life. Stepping up to Prager, you start cutting the weird sky people clothing off of him, leaving him in the odd-looking tweng they wore. This one, you noted, was different from the demon’s. White in color, with long legs. Gathering him in your arms, you struggle to lift him, his body much heavier than you first anticipated. Almost immediately, you realized that you needed to get the ship further down the rock or risk not getting it out in the water again.

Placing Prager in the ship, you do the same to Lopez. Neytiri’s arrow is so deeply embedded in his chest that you almost don’t get it out again. It’s the same with Z-Dog and Seanfike, the two arrows deeply plunged into both of their heads. The one in Z-Dog’s flank has gone through, Neytiri’s aim merciless where it strikes. In the end, there’s just Brown left, the man almost small where you gently lay him on top of the others. Getting into the water again, you quickly rinse their blood off of your body, off of Neytiri’s arrows before tying a rope to a piece of wood that had floated past.

Stepping up to Neteyam and Hawnu, you put Neytiri’s arrow away before greeting your Ikran, rubbing his long forehead lovingly as he chirps as if to say that everything will be alright. Neteyam is asleep where he leans into Hawnu’s bigger body, his skin warm in the hot sun. Gently, you lift the young man up in your arms, before placing his legs on each side of Hawnu, trying not to jostle him too much. Making tsaheylu, you’re happy to feel that Hawnu has been able to rest up while you searched for the recoms. Chirping, Hawnu takes the piece of wood between his claws before he takes off, spreading his large wings. The rope isn’t the longest, but it gives Hawnu the full range of his wings, the small, open ship easily gliding on the water despite the heavy weight of the five recoms.

Reaching the tree of souls once more, you leave Neteyam to rest with shade over his face. It would do him no good to overheat. Pushing the small ship out over the calm water, you take it with you to where the water glows, the Great Mother showing you the way in this unfamiliar sacred place. Hoisting yourself up into the small ship, you take a hold of the wood up from the water. Every Na’vi had a songcord - these did not.

It’s not hard to make beads. Once you get into the flow of it, you think of each of their milestones, think of how proud you were of them for accepting, for learning, and for practicing the way of Eywa. Carving different shapes and patterns, you finish their last beads before you’re ready to add them. Starting with Brown, you loosen a strand from his queue, braiding it beautifully as you add the beads you carved for him, singing memories of your time together, hoping - praying - that it would be enough. Gently, you let him into the water, crossing his arms over his chest before pressing him down with you as you dive. The glowing warmth of Eywa welcomes you as you gently watch her welcome another of her children, enveloping the young man in a hug you one day knew would be waiting for you. When Brown had been welcomed back, you swam up to the small ship to repeat the motion.

It’s midday by the time you’re finished, the sun glowing brightly as she starts her descent before the eclipse. But try as you might, you’re unable to swim back to Neteyam and Hawnu. The loss of the other recoms weighs heavy in your heart. The fact that you couldn’t find them, that you couldn’t unite them with the Great Mother, pained you almost more than losing them did. So while you silently sit there, staring at this sacred place of the Metkayina that resided here, you come to the conclusion that the least you could do for them was to make songcords and offer them to Eywa in place of their bodies.

Lyle’s beads are easy to carve, the man had been one of the best men you knew, his humor, his protectiveness, his love, something that would stick with you for years to come. Unbraiding your queue, you cut a strand of hair from the side of your head, firmly tying its end before braiding in his beads. His song would be one of joy.

Mansk wasn’t much harder, the gentle man nurturing and kind, always putting others before himself. His love language had been food and with the different ways he could prepare a meal, you had quickly come to care for him. Cutting a strand of hair from the other side of your head, you start braiding Mansk’s beads. His song would be one of fondness.

Ja’s beads were the easiest to carve. His gentle nature had called to you from the moment you met. Immediately, you recognized his gentle soul, the kindness and softness one you hadn’t previously seen in a warrior such as him. Getting to know him had been a joyful experience, and although his carefulness when learning the Na’vi way often tried your patience, he took to it so quickly once he was able to walk through it with you. Cutting a strand of hair from the middle, you smile as you pick a childish pattern for him. Ja’s song would be filled with endearment.

Then… there was the demon. You had carved no beads for him, had not thought of the milestones he had achieved or the way his braid pattern had already been chosen. He was the hardest one. The one you didn’t want to do, didn't want to touch… except did. More than any of the others, his death left an empty space deep within your chest, one you didn’t dare look closer at. Sending a prayer to Eywa, you ask her for guidance, ask her for a sign - anything - to indicate that you were doing the right thing. She had given you an unmistakable sign once, had covered the demon in her sacred spirits, telling you that he was meant for something bigger, but you had failed her.

Letting out a huffed humorless chuckle you watch as the small ship is surrounded by the small glowing fish from before, the Great Mother once more giving you a sign, guiding you. Looking up at the skies, you try your best to hold back the tears now threatening to fall from your closed eyes. It doesn’t work. The lump in your throat pinches painfully as you try to swallow down the tears, your chest heaving for air, but it’s no use. Once the first tear falls, the others follow until you rest your face in your hands, crying freely. You don’t want to inspect why this is hitting you so hard, but deep down you already know.

“Why?” You sob, your throat fighting you, “Why, Great Mother?”

But she never elaborates. You knew this, yet, you had hoped that just this once, you would get to walk away from this pain. But the Great Mother only guides, only shows signs in the direst of moments to point you in the right direction if need be. Taking deep breaths, you pick up your knife and start carving. You know you can’t lie, not about him - the father of your most beloved son. Without him, there would have been no Spider and without Spider, your life would have been very different.

As a nobody in your tribe, one with no particular skills, you would have no prospect for a good mate, and would more likely than not have ended up as an aunt working together with the men and women that had lost their mates. It was by far the worst of fates, but one you knew you would have been miserable with. Spider had needed you as much as you had needed him, and for that, you owed the demon everything.

Out of the four of them, he ended up having the most beads, his milestones a bit different in comparison to theirs. Reaching up to the back of your neck, you cut a strand of hair from the nape, below where your braid would be hiding the missing hair. As you would forever need to hide what had happened between the two of you, this too would stay hidden from prying eyes. Reaching for your own songcord, you look at the beautiful blue stone bead, the last one added. Taking a deep breath, you untie the braid until the bead comes loose. Rolling the precious gem in your hand, you close your eyes before adding it as the last bead on the demon’s songcord, tightly tying off the end.

His song would be one of hope.

Lowering yourself into the water once more, take deep beats before diving down, the four songcords tightly held in your hand. One by one, you lay them on the glowing hands of the Great Mother, watching as she wraps around them, welcoming each one. It brings a sad smile to your lips. When there’s only one more left, you hesitate. You’re not ready, your body rebelling against letting it go. The air in your lungs is already reaching low levels, so you decide to swim up to breathe freely before laying it to rest with the others. Except, when you dive down again, the glow has dimmed to almost nothing. Furrowing your brows in confusion, you reach down to touch them, relieved when the area glows brightly once more.

Looking down at your hand, you watch as the sunlight from above makes the blue bead glitter. Rolling it between your fingers, you close your eyes briefly before gently putting it down for Eywa to welcome the last of them home. But nothing happens. The anemones don’t glow or wrap around the songcord, pulling it down to join the others. For long moments, there’s no movement at all, until the glowing fish swims around you, surrounding you. The Great Mother wakes to life again, glowing brighter than before as her hands finally wrap around Quaritch’s songcord, welcoming it to rest within her heart. As it disappears from view, your chest constricts, a milestone in your life over.

Sparing one last look at the warm glow, you swim to the surface, breaking the water quietly. You don’t feel anything as the midday sun shines down on you and as if Eywa hears you, dark clouds roll in from afar. Sighing deeply, you take hold of the rope and pull the small ship with you. You need to send it on its way, far away from this sacred place. Crawling up on the rock you left Neteyam and Hawnu on, you’re surprised to see yellow eyes staring at you with a deep set confusion in them. You smile gently at the younger boy, but you know it doesn’t reach your eyes. Taking the small ship with you, you guide it to the outer part of the circle that makes out this sacred place, letting the current of the great sea lead it away into the nothingness of the waters beyond.

“Who was it?” Neteyam asks when you return, his voice is small, careful as he speaks.

“Hmm…?” Your head isn’t in the moment, missing his question completely.

“You sat out there for a while, talking with someone. It was one of them, wasn’t it?” He elaborates, the young man too smart for his own good. “Your mate…”

“It doesn’t matter now,” You smile sadly at him, seeing how his ears snap back flat against his skull, his sad small eyes looking up at you with something aching to understanding. You don’t want to think about how he saw through you so easily, about how, if he saw, the others surely would too.

“Come, we need to get back home. Mo’at will know what to do,” You tell him, bending down to help him up.

“Uuugh, she will end me, Y/n,” Neteyam grins, grinning up at you.

It’s so evident that he’s looking forward to getting to go back home, to see his grandmother and family again. Smiling gently at him, you can’t wait to hold Spider in your arms again. You would never let him out of your sight again, and you had a feeling the same would apply to Neteyam for Jake and Neytiri. With Hawnu taking off, heading across to the shoreline, you feel a comfortable resolve fill your being. Everything would turn back to normal again once you got back home. Toruk Makto would make everything good again, would lead you right this time around.

Thanking Hawnu for his help, for his strength, you ask him to set the pace that suits him. The Sullys would arrive before you anyway, but as you held Neteyam close as he dozed off, you didn’t really mind. Spider was safe, your Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk having protected him the way they should have back then. Your heart filled with joy that you would be able to give them something as precious as their firstborn, alive and well, in return.

Coming home would be everything to you...

Chapter 11 | Masterpost | Chapter 13

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