#Im gonna reach a point where I just snap her ducking phone or something

[0venatrix]

I swear to god if I hear another piece of misinformation from my mums phone, I am going to scream.

Actually that’s a lie. I will bite something.

[psychovigilantewrites]

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N:  I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW:  mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

[spookyspaghettisundae]

Freak's Show

The man pirouetted across the asphalt and struck a pose like an elegant dancer. Like an elegant dancer, he slipped his leather jacket down his arms and then spun out of it, gingerly hanging it onto the side-view mirror of a parked car.

Only steps away from him now, zombies shambled towards him. They groaned and growled in unison, forming a chorus of inhuman moans. He then returned to where he had discarded his backpack on the sidewalk. From the flap-covered main pouch of the pack, a metal baseball bat’s grip jutted out. He slung the makeshift weapon out and weighed it, making it look as light as a feather in his hands.

The dancing man turned and flexed his biceps, posing theatrically with the bat, and gave the camera a toothy grin, waggling his eyebrows and picturing what his audience expected to see next.

“The Frostinator swings,” he announced with an uncanny cheer in his voice.

He spun around and swung the bat in the same motion. The top of the nearest zombie’s skull went flying away in a high arc, replete with brain matter splattering onto the zombie beside it and scattering across the street.

“He scores!”

The zombie collapsed while the others shambled closer towards him. They reached out with their hands, trembling with hunger for human flesh, grabbing and pawing at this “Frostinator” while he stood there, savoring his impeccable display.

He stepped back from the next two zombies and pulled the bat back behind him, then swung overhead at the next one. The sounds of the metallic THWUNK and the squelching sound of a skull caving in could easily wrench anybody’s stomach, but “Frosty” reveled in his one-man show, chuckling at it.

He commented with the same sing-song of a sports commentator, “The crowd goes wild!”

Stepping away from the third zombie and getting close to the trembling camera with arms spread out, he breathed out sounds to imitate the noise of a raving crowd of spectators.

The zombie behind him lunged forward in a sudden burst of speed. The camera shook even more and the person holding the phone to film this suddenly yelled at him, “Fucking look, behind you!”

Charlie Frost swiveled with lightning speed and batted the head of the third zombie.

He cheered, “Ooh, home run!”

Its neck cracked and bent, letting its head hang in an unnatural angle for a second before the zombie collapsed onto the sidewalk in between Frosty and the camera man. All of the walking dead people twitched on the ground. The camera man breathed heavily, audibly afraid.

Frosty walked up to the nearest zombie and began stomping on its head with a heavy black boot. The camera man emitted more and more noises of disgust with each kick flattening the skull some more and and more and more viscous mass splotching about.

“These boots are made for walkin’,” Charlie Frost sang Nancy Sinatra’s song, merrily stomping one zombie after another, cutting off abruptly after each line, sometimes even between words.

He tilted to a side and peered down at one of the three zombies after another. Biting his lip, he turned back to the camera with his brow furrowed in clear elation.

Staring past the camera, his mien darkened and he puffed his chest out.

Jutting his chin out, he asked, “What, you gonna piss yourself now all of a sudden?”

The faceless camera man stammered something unintelligible.

“This is the best fucking show on this side of the quarantine lines,” Frosty said with a sneer. He then cocked his head to look straight into the camera lens. “Twenty-four seven zombie slaughter. Remember, kids—you can’t spell slaughter without laughter!”

He then backed away from the camera, drummed his chest, and cackled at the camera man again.

“Tune in later, for when the Frostinator takes out twenty zombies with nothing but a kitchen knife. The Michael Myers special,” he mused.

Frosty snatched a rag from his backpack and wiped off the slimy gore from the tip of his baseball bat before sticking it back into the pack and shouldering it.

The camera man asked, “Uh, your jacket?”

Frosty paused and looked over to the car where he had hung his jacket from.

“Oh yeah,” he muttered, heading back there next. “Are you still filming?”

“Uh, yeah,” replied the camera man.

“Fucking why? Cut,” Frosty said.

“We can cut out filler like this,” whined the camera man.

Frosty slipped back into his leather jacket, grabbed his bat from the pack again, and shook it at the camera man, less as a threat and more as a reminder.

“But the audience likes it raw,” he said, spitting out the last word with furious zest. “And when I say cut, I fucking mean—”

The recording ended abruptly.

In the next video, the view was of Frosty’s legs and boots. He crossed the street in a different part of town. A car alarm honked and blared in the distance. The camera tilted upwards, showing smoke as it formed a shifting pillar on the horizon, rising from a faraway building’s roof.

Frosty asked the camera man without turning around, “How many views?”

“Um, one sec,” said the camera man.

He fumbled with the phone, causing the recorded images to shake and the audio to go wild with the rustling of fabric.

“Broke the one million mark on the roadkill rodeo, and just breached a hundred K on the baseball show.”

Frosty said, “Told you, you shoulda recorded right away, you chickenshit. Three brainings is not enough!”

After a pregnant pause, the camera man muttered, “Maybe you shoulda not sucked at singing in a band of decent instrumentalists, or you shoulda gotten a real job.”

Frosty looked back over his shoulder and glared past the camera at its operator.

“The fuck you say?”

His eyes narrowed as he shot a glance at the camera.

“You fucking recording this? Turn that off, shit-head,” Frosty said, spinning around and pointing a large kitchen knife at the operator. “You gotta save battery for the money shots.”

The recording cut off right there.

In the next one, a grainier and shakier image panned over to a single-story convenience store. A lonesome man, garbed in layers of sweaters and a dark blue beanie on his head, stood at the edge of that store’s rooftop. Beside him was a camping tent, some white plastic lawn chairs, and a bunch of blue and purple plastic buckets spread out. The busted store sign rested on top of the roof, as if he had used it as a ramp to get up there in the first place.

The place was under siege by zombies. Dozens, if not hundreds of them had clustered around the store, clawing and pawing at the walls, reaching up to the lonesome man stranded up there. The sea of walking dead groaned so loudly that it was clearly audible on the recording, even at the distance of them being a block away. There were so many of them that some of them could almost climb up from a dumpster onto the rooftop.

The lonesome man wielded a makeshift spear, which appeared to be made out of a fishing pole and a hunting knife duct-taped together. He stabbed with it at the zombies, trying to keep them off of the dumpster, and then the fishing pole snapped in half. He gesticulated with fury and visibly swore out loud, though too far away for the camera to pick up his words.

The camera zoomed back out and shook less. The operator shifted the shot so Frosty was on the left edge of the frame. The two of them stood on a different rooftop as Charlie Frost observed the man on the convenience store.

“Nah, fuck ‘im,” Frosty said. “Just a buncha tedium to get through that cluster, I don’t see any titty-hot footage comin’ outta that.”

The camera man sighed.

“Man, you already let that poor woman get eaten because you were ‘not feeling photogenic vibes from her’,” the camera man complained in a mimicry of Frosty’s voice. “The hell is wrong with you?”

“Fuck you. I can’t make a good show without the proper protagonists and action,” mumbled Frosty, still staring at the man atop the convenience store. “And when I say action, I mean—”

He turned around, grabbing his own imaginary boobs on his chest. His lopsided grin faded instantly when he noticed the camera man filming and he exhaled in a dramatically sharp sigh.

“Motherfucker, what have I told you?”

“Yeah,” said the operator in a shaking, fearful tone.

“You know you’re only alive because o’ me, right? You punk-ass scrawny little bitch wouldn’t make it, like, two hours in the zone.”

He slapped the camera man on the chest with the back of his hand.

“Cut that shit out. And you know what? I got a great idea, and it’s gonna stop your nagging. I have a great scene in mind for that loser down there, after all.”

“What?”

Frosty enunciated every syllable with angry clarity, “Fucking cut it. No spoilers!”

The recording stopped there.

In the next shot, a soft snow fell, drifting down gently from the skies. But the street below was ablaze with several fires. The zombies shambling down the street bumped into each other, crashed through windows, flailing around in a panic; most of them covered in flames themselves.

The camera shook and displayed Frosty in the bottom right. The psychotic showman cheered and held a Molotov cocktail in his hand. He used a cheap plastic lighter to set the cloth sticking out of the bottleneck alight, and then threw it into the closest horde of zombies. They groaned and moaned as the bottle shattered and exploded into another lake of fire, spreading out and blanketing them, adding to the infernal mayhem that Frosty had summoned.

Frosty formed both hands into devil’s horns and stuck his tongue out at the camera. He then shouted into the lens, “I am the god of hellfire, bitches!”

He ducked out of the image and when he stood back up straight, he held a heavy-looking fire axe in both hands. He raised the axe over his head and shook it like a savage, then yelled at the burning, shambling hordes in front of them, “Sally, I’m home!”

Frosty waded into the mass of zombies. As they stumbled around in confusion, he made short work of one after another, hacking them down with the axe, one by one. Pausing here to stomp down on one and pull the axe back out of its chest with a bone-cracking sound, pausing there to perform another little pirouette in his exaggerated dance of senseless carnage.

After the first dozen, a sheen of sweat had built up on Frosty’s forehead and muscular arms. He moon-walked backwards through the crowd, biting his lower lip and pointing finger-guns at the camera.

Swiveling around, he hacked into the neck of the nearest burning zombie, dragging it down onto the sidewalk, and then chopped into another that fell sideways into a clothing store’s window front, shattering the already broken glass even further. He paused and caught his breath and then shot another sadistic grin at the camera before carrying on.

Frosty did not even bother really clearing out the horde, just cutting a path through the burning mob as they neared the convenience store. The haze of heat and smoke rendered the man on the rooftop over there into an ominous blur.

When he had cleared some breathing room around them, Charlie Frost lazily rested the axe on a shoulder and asked without turning to the camera, “How many views on the baseball show now?”

The camera trembled. More rustling. Then it shook violently.

“Ah, shit. Fuck. Ow, fuck,” said the operator. The image flashed violently between bright and dark spots, as the camera man stopped caring what was on display. “Oh, fuck, no. Oh fuck, no,” he continued to whine until he started sobbing.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Frosty growled to the camera.

It displayed a bleeding wound on the camera man’s calf. Blood gushed out of what looked like a bite mark on his lower right calf.

“No,” cried the camera man. “No, please!”

The audio exploded and transitioned into crackling sounds as the camera phone clattered onto the ground, filming the sky. The burning hell around it was barely in the picture, though the edge of it suggested that Frosty was hacking his axe into the camera man on the ground, as the latter’s screams synced up with each blow, and eventually stopped when the fifth hit struck.

Frosty yelled at the ground, “What am I gonna do now, use a fucking selfie stick?”

He howled in rage and spun around, hacking at something off-screen, likely another approaching zombie.

Amid the zombified groaning and squelching sounds, a man’s voice traveled from the convenience store rooftop, too distorted or distant for the phone to pick up anything intelligible. Frosty appeared out of nowhere and picked up the phone, flipping it around to display the scene of chaos he had engineered, then the recording abruptly ended.

When the recording sprung back into life, Frosty smiled into the camera with the joy of a kid opening a present on Christmas. Blood splatters and chunks of bone or other undefinable mass clung to his face, painting him like a sinister clown.

“Hey everybody, this is your boy, the Frostinator, back for season two of Frosty’s Super-Ethical Quarantine Cleaning Show,” he said in a melodious voice, making sure to display his pearly whites with an even wider smile.

“Everybody give it up for our new and beloved camera man, Clive,” he continued.

Then he flipped the phone and showed off Clive. The bearded man from the convenience store with the blue beanie on his head smiled into the camera. But his smile never reached his eyes—his eyes sparkled with a glint of dread. He held up a hand covered in a fingerless glove and waved at the camera.

“Nice to meet y'all,” he said in a southern drawl. “Pleasure to be part of this production.”

The picture flipped again, showing Frosty as he looked off into the distance to show off his perfect jawline.

“We’re gonna have some great chills and thrills this season, folks,” Frosty announced with the rising momentum and cadence of a veteran announcer. He then looked straight into the camera once more to add, “This season’s gonna show the Frostinator throwing the book at zombies in court—literally. And shootin’ guns in the police station. And plastic explosives mixed with fireworks at the mall. We’re goin’ all out, baby. Woo!”

He shouldered the fire axe again for emphasis and said, “So, all of you who haven’t yet, better punch that like-button in the face and give me a subscribe for more of the best content from the apocalypse.”

The grin he displayed for the camera undoubtedly underlined his naturally good looks, but the madness in this man’s mind unmistakably oozed out into the recording.

The shot ended.

Clive flipped through the recordings on the phone, thumbing through the menu, reviewing them with earplug headphones on. He sat underneath a window of an apartment building they were squatting in. The battery display for the phone warned him of a low charge, urging its user to recharge it.

The “new camera man” picked up the portable power bank and clicked a button on it to check its charge. Five percent remaining. Not enough for another day of recording this psycho’s videos.

Videos that could not be uploaded—because the internet had stopped existing weeks ago, as far as he knew. And electricity had been cut off to the quarantine zone a few days ago.

Frosty slept on the floor on the other side of the room, curled up in some blankets and snoring away with his back turned to Clive.

He shot a glance to the pistol sitting on the floor next to Frosty. Clive considered if he should shoot this sick “Frosty” fella in the head and move on.

Better him than me, he thought. Just one thought in a long chain of many dark contemplations. Clive could not fathom whether Frosty was just plain delusional or trying to make light of the apocalyptic world they were trapped in. He decided that the show-man was too crazy for anybody’s good.

Clive gently placed the phone onto the ground beside him. With painful slowness, he rose from his seat on the floor.

He crept towards the gun.

—Submitted by Wratts

[teruthecreator]

💘 for macknerva!!

anon, you are a genius. you’ve basically just sent the magical question that has now unlocked for the world: macknerva origin story (bc honestly i realized i just start posting abt it without rlly explaining it??? and someone people are loving it??? so thank yall for being my ultimate favs but u deserve this origin) 

also this is several days late (thank u Depression) and also super long (thank u Dumb Brain) so i hope you can forgive me for both of these things   

💘: who developed a crush on the other first? 

it’s time we take it back....Back To The Start.  

so since this is my magical world of My Own Personal Canon (since i stole griffin mcelroys rights), minerva ends up in Kepler in a completely unnamed and not talked abt manner (bc im too tired to explain my general alternate theory hgkgldlgbfhke but busically she just got on a ship to earth to avoid dying) and is staying with duck until further notice. she doesn’t mind laying low at duck’s apartment until they’re able to figure out Everything and get her set up w a place of her own (spoiler alert: that never happens, but duck won’t admit he just misses having a roommate so they let it slide). 

after about a month (which feels like eons in minerva’s mind), she starts to get antsy. she’s already been introduced to the pine guard and amnesty lodge, by this point, so she’s constantly trying to hang out with someone so she isn’t stuck in duck’s apartment all hours of the day. 

which is how minerva ends up in the cryptonomica the day kirby has to run into his job at the theatre for a good portion of the day. it’s pretty empty in the shop--i mean museum, so it’s not like ned minds (plus him and mack have already struck up an agreement, which i explained in a previous post abt ned and macks friendship) especially when minerva’s around to willingly pick up the slack. 

but this second job has minerva curious: 

minerva: I assumed your assistant, Kirby, had only the singular position at your museum?  ned, from behind the counter: Oh, for a while he did, but then the theatre opened up and his services were needed elsewhere. And who am I, Ned “Theatrical” Chicane, to deny such a marvelous establishment of the skills and technical prowess Kirby possesses?”  minerva: Oh? A theatre, you say? 

here comes some random personal hc: on her homeworld, minerva was involved in her planet’s form of theatre (which i’ve always pictured to be very greek-esque, thus explaining her naturally booming voice) and absolutely adored it as a hobby. she, obviously, understands there will be a difference between Earthen theatre and the theatre she once performed; but there is no denying that that thought barely crossed her mind as she proceeded to pester ned about the theatre until he suggested she get a part-time job there. 

(ned knows mack’s struggles with keeping hires at the theatre, which is why he is quick to suggest minerva get a job there. that, and ned knows enough abt mack at this point to pretty accurately guess her Type. so let’s just say ned was doing this for both macks gain, but also for his gain to be able to harass her abt her hot new employee that he totally inflicted on her on purpose) 

ned probably brings it up later that night, or the next day. just really casually drops that he has someone interested in a position at the theatre:

mack: Holy fuck--yes, Ned! Tell them they’re hired!!! What can they do?   ned: Hmmmmm, well she’s quite fit, and has no qualms with getting her hands dirty.  mack: Oh, perfect! I need some more set builders! Thanks a whole lot, Ned. I knew you’d always have my back.  ned, knowing full well what he’s just wrought: Oh, of course, dear Mackerel. Anything for a friend! 

cue the next day: mack is just going about the theatre, business as usual, staying sort of close to the house doors so she can be Right There when ned comes in with the new hire. she’s faced away from the doors, checking something on her phone (probably her texts with ned, to see if he’s arrived yet) when she hears the doors open and shut. mack turns around to witness the Hottest Woman She Has Ever Seen In Her Goddamn Life. 

she’s tall--holy shit is she tall--with beautiful dark skin painted with these almost glowing blue tattoos that travel all the way across powerful arms and a prominent collarbone. but the tattoos don’t stop there, of course they don’t. they go all the way up to this woman’s bald head, perfectly framing her beautiful face. high cheekbones, strong chin, a wonderful nose (mack doesn’t have much of a preference for noses but this one is perfect she just knows it), masterfully-carved eyebrows that look like they were chiseled out of stone, and those enchanting, bright, beautiful bright blue eyes.  

mack’s brain basically short-circuits once minerva smiles at her (with those pearly white teeth and a grin so inviting it feels like her whole heart is melting), so she’s barely able to process the smug ned beside minerva. 

@goforduck drew this scene for me a while back and imma show it to u all bc i love him, his art, and the hot takes he gives my special lil ship: 

needless to say, mack Is Attracted, but i wouldn’t necessarily consider it a crush. meanwhile, minerva’s pov, she’s so damn excited for this job that she’s practically vibrating on the way in. and then, like romantic poetic would have it, all of that energy halts as time stands still and minerva locks eyes with....mack.  

mack definitely looks a little disheveled, but it’s like every fly-away hair crowns her head like a halo as those gemstones-for-eyes lock w minerva. she’s never seen someone she has felt so immediately attracted to in her life. but, that being said, she still does not Have A Crush. 

so after all the awkward blustering (AKA mack tripping over every eighth word as minerva turns on the Charm to keep that blush on mack’s freckled face) mack starts to get minerva accustomed to the work environment and the tasks she’d need to do. eventually, she hands minnie off to kirby bc shes got work to do, and the rest of the day goes by uneventfully. 

now minerva works at the theatre, and she’s Delighted w it. the job is easy but entertaining, she’s making friends, her knowledge of the world is expanding, and she now has a target for some very playful flirting and obvious showing-off of her muscles. because, listen....she has Eyes. she Knows mack always blusters whenever she’s around. and she knows herself, too. mack is cute and minerva likes making her blush. but there hasn’t been that moment where things are taken seriously.  

until about a month in, when minerva walks into something she maybe shouldn’t have but also definitely should have. 

you see, mack has a very important ritual in the morning. she arrives at the theatre at the absolute ass crack of dawn so she can get her yoga/stretching/vocal warmups in (since she is still a performer at heart and this has been her routine since college) and then sit by herself on the stage just sorta soaking it all in before kirby comes in with her coffee (which she needs in order to get up from her seated position on the stage bc she is that much of a coffee addict). just about every employee on staff knows not to even bother coming in this early bc 1. this ritual is very Private and Sacred to mack and 2. ur not even gonna be able to speak to her unless ur kirby w her coffee. 

“just about” encompasses every employee except for minerva, who decides to show up before kirby to bring mack her coffee (that she memorized after cornering kirby for the specifics one day) 

so she comes in the back entrance and is sort of at a loss as to where mack may be bc she doesn’t know mack’s routine. and she’s just kinda wandering aimlessly through all the shops and little rooms until she reaches the wings, where she hears the gentle strumming of a guitar. 

she approaches, with all the caution of a woman who has spent years mastering the art of stealth along w her combat studies, and comes upon the following scene: 

mack is seated in the exact center of the stage, eyes shut peacefully as her body sways to the tempo of the song she’s strumming on the guitar she’s playing (which minerva recognizes as the guitar that some idiot pit member left here about two weeks ago). she’s singing (the song is Dream A Little Dream of Me), and her voice is so soft yet so resonate that minerva feels as if she could stand right next to her or be 1000 feet away and hear the exact same thing. and she sounds so good, so completely in the song she’s performing and in her contentedness that it eases some subconscious unease minerva was holding. in the time minerva’s known mack, it’s the most natural she’s ever heard or seen her, just playing for an invisible audience in the dim lights of a theatre not yet awakened. 

minerva doesn’t realize she’s drifting closer to mack until she steps on an uneven plank, and the noise snaps mack out of her little world as she turns to the noise. needless to say, she’s a little surprised that minerva’s here this early, but then minerva wordlessly hands her her coffee and so mack could care less. she accepts the drink w a smile and then decides to go to her office to get started on some business emails. 

it isn’t until mack has already left the stage, and minerva is still stuck in the same position she was when she handed mack her coffee--heart racing a million miles a minute, face hot, and stomach feeling as if an entire colony of butterflies suddenly took refuge there--that minerva realizes that she is Endlessly, Hopelessly Fucked In Love. 

So yeah, TLDR; Minerva was first. 

[huniieebee]

Warning: cussing 

April Fools ch.1

intro / next

cover photo by: @peachvii (check out “when our stars align”)

-

“Alright class make sure to turn in these emergency forms in order to go on this trip” Ms. Herman said

Ms. Herman was our leadership coordinator. I can always trust her when I need an adult to talk to or when I just someone to talk to. I joined leadership as a way to make friends and help out with school stuff. Leadership is where I met my friend Kun. During this activity we had to be in groups of 2, everyone quickly made their way to their friends...then there was us. We shrugged and introduced ourselves to each other laughing at how lonely we were. From there we became close friends.

Snapping out of my daze turning to Kun who was to the right of me

“You’re for sure going right?” I asked to make sure he wouldn’t leave me

He nods smiling and giving me the thumbs up.

“Also, just a heads up class, some of student council along with some of Mrs.Kim’s students will be going” she said as she passing out the emergency forms

“You are free to go after I check your written summary from yesterday’s activity”

-

“I don’t get it what came first the chicken or the egg?” Lucas said laying on my bed,

I share an apartment with Lucas and Jungwoo. They both share a room and I got my own. We all share an apartment cause hello? We’re all broke college students.

“Lucas not now, I have to fill out this emergency form and start on that essay from English” I said rubbing my temples

“No Y/N listen, it doesn’t make sense if the egg came first, where was the chicken to poop it out-“

“Lucas I don’t think-“

“Y/N I SAID LISTEN, but if the chicken came first where was the egg it came from” Lucas said looking at me like I knew the answer

I started at him with a blank express for a few seconds.

“Hey what’s going on here” Jungwoo said coming into the room

“JUNGWOO! What came first the chicken or the egg” Lucas said standing on my bed

“Okay....nevermind...I’m leaving...oh and our take out came” Jungwoo said closing the door behind him

“WAI-“ Lucas said holding his hand out like he was trying to grab something

“Lucas get down before you hit your head on the ceiling or fall off the bed” I sighed standing

“Come on chicken philosopher, we got pizza to eat” I said opening the door and waiting for Lucas TO GET OFF THE BED.

Lucas jumped down from the bed and ran out the door I held open for him

“CALM DOWN YOU DUMBASS, YOU BETTER NOT EAT-“ I stopped talking when I saw standing there Jaehyun, Johnny, Ans Jungwoo talking.

“Oh hi Y/N” Johnny said once he noticed me. Jaehyun turned his head smiling and giving me a cute wave

“Hi” I said shyly, I ducked my head and walking into the kitchen. I grabbed a paper plate with 2 slices of pizza and was about to walk out the kitchen when Jungwoo stopped me.

“Where you going” he said with an eyebrow raised

“My room” I murmured

“No, Y/N you’re staying here in the kitchen with the guests right??” Jungwoo said putting is arm around me giving me a the side eye and while smiling at the two guest.

“Yeah” I whispered huffing I placed my plate down back down on the counter.

“Hey thanks for the pizza” Johnny said before biting into the piece

“Don’t thank me thank Y/N, I used her card” Lucas said smiling

“YOU WHAT” You managed to yell after choking on your pizza a little and coughing your lungs out of your ass (<just kidding)

“Welp looks like I gotta blast” Lucas said grabbing another slice on his plate and running to his room

“Are you okay” Jaehyun who was next to me said while patting my back

“Yeah” I managed to say wiping my mouth with the paper towel on the counter. Jungwoo came up to me with a glass of water which I gladly took CAUSE I WAS DYING. Johnny smiled at me sympathetically.

“I have to go finish my essay” I said setting things cup down and grabbing my plate

Passing by the 3 boys I went into my room. I closed the door and sighed. Placing my plate down on my desk and sitting down on my chair

“I swear I’m going to kill Lucas later” I said placing my hands on my cheeks which are red from the coughing fit I had earlier. I stared at my pizza that was getting cold for a few mins thinking about someone. Jaehyun...he was always known to be caring and funny. The memory of him putting your back come to mind and you blushed.

“What are you thinking Y/N, he was trying to help you NOT DIE” I whispered to myself

-

[day of the trip]

“What’s the point of this trip” I murmured fixing my backpack while walking and wiping my sweat

“Hey why are you complaining all of a sudden, you’ve been begging Kun and I to get our emergency forms in right away cause you were “excited” for this trip” Sicheng said to me

“Well MR.I LIKE TO CALL OUT Y/N I didn’t know we had to WALK to our destination IN HOT WEATHER” I said slumping down

“Come on Y/N, it isn’t that bad, ALSO we aren’t walking all the way we’re going to take the bus too” Kun said patting my backpack

When we got to the bus stop all the students hung around and talked to each other. I was busy on my phone ranting to Lucas about walking in such hot weather while Kun and Sicheng has their own conversation.

“Hey guys” Said a familiar voice

I looked up and saw Johnny, Jaehyun, and Doyoung. Doyoung is part of the student council (co-prez), Of course Johnny won as prez, and Jaehyun was the treasurer (no one really signed up for it so Jaehyun took it).  

The 5 of them started a conversation while I stood on the side still texting Lucas. 

“Hey Y/N, I heard about your conversation with Lucas a few days ago about the chicken and the egg. Which one do you think came first?” Johnny said suddenly

I snapped my head up and thought “shit they heard Lucas’ dumb comments about the chickens.. they probably think I’m actually friends with some chicken philosopher”

“umm..i don’t know” I said shrugging my shoulders

“come on Y/N loosen up a little, they aren’t gonna bite” Sicheng said throwing his arm around my shoulders

“shut up trash” I murmured 

“WHAT WAS THAT Y/N, I COULDN’T QUITE HEAR YOU” Sicheng said while reaching for my sides to tickle me 

I tried to run but I couldn’t escape...sadly. 

“I SAID YOU’RE RIGHT PLEASE” I said between painful laughs and wheezes

“That’s what I thought” Sicheng said hands on his hips proud of what he did

 Catching my breath, I realized that Johnny, Jaehyun, and Doyoung just witnessed that whole scene. 

I looked at them to see them smiling from out childish acts. Awkwardly smiling I went back to my phone. While they all continued to talk...I felt someone stare at me. I looked up and caught eyes with Jaehyun, he was quick to look away after though..”what was that about” I said in my head. Shrugging it off i continued to scroll aimlessly on my phone. 

On the bus I sat next to Kun, we joke around with each other pointing at stuff and saying that was us (yes we are college students and we still do this, DONT JUDGE US). I pointed to a basket that was attached to this pole (assuming it was a garbage for passengers) and said 

“Look it’s Sicheng” while smiling 

Sicheng and Doyoung (who sat next to each other) Turned to where my finger was pointed and laughed 

I also heard two laughs from behind, when I turned around I saw Johnny and Jaehyun chuckling at my little joke. 

I stared at Jaehyun, his laugh was cute and the way his dimple pops out when he’s smiling, that shirt looks cute on him. Snapping out of my little day dream, I shook my head “Y/N STOP!” I thought to myslelf. I brushed all my thoughts away blaming the heat for making me think such things.  

[@ the destination] 

“So you’re telling me...they made us go to an arcade...for “bonding” time...” I said to Kun and  Sicheng 

“Did you not read what was on the Emergency form...?” Kun said 

“Kun, I don’t think she knows how to read” Sicheng said 

I lifted my hand to smack Sicheng but I lifted it a little too high...and a little too hard....

“Ow what the-”

“fuck my life” I whispered to myself. Turning around I saw Jaehyun holding his eye

“OH MY GOSH IM SO SORRY I DIDN’T MEAN TO HIT YOU” I said He let go of his eye when I tiptoed up to his height to cradle his face in my hands, turning his face to inspect his left eye. 

“It’s okay Y/N, I know you didn’t mean to hit me on purpose...unless you actually did hit me on purpose then...” he said his voice slowly trailing off 

I chuckled while shaking my head. He looked at me a little confused, till I realized I was still holding his face. I quickly let go and awkwardly coughed

“uhhh, come on lets go get you some ice or something before you bruise or something” I said still embarrassed 

While walking towards the “restaurant” part of the arcade Jaehyun decided to lighten the awkward mood by asking simple questions, which helped me loosen up to him a bit. 

“You know you hit really hard” Jaehyun said while I pressed an ice cube wrapped around a couple paper towels 

We both were sitting on the stools of the bar (for the adults) facing each other. 

“yeah..sorry about that” I said 

I was concentrated on icing his eye that I didn’t pay attention to him staring intensely at me 

I backed away realizing the space between us was small. 

“Uh yeah your eye should be okay now...” I said standing up 

“hey Y/N-”

“oh my gosh there you are Jae..I was looking around for you” Johnny said from across the room interrupting what Jaehyun was about to say

“I’m sorry” Jaehyun said turning to you as Johnny tugged on his arm 

“It’s fine go on, I have to find my friends too” I said smiling and waving 

I watched as Johnny dragged Jaehyun to the basketball area...what was he going to say?   

Once I found my friends we played games and ate some gross greasy food, till it was time to leave. 

On the way back to school Kun, Sicheng, and I stayed at the back of the group chatting and joking around. At some point Johnny, Jaehyun, and Doyoung ended up in the back with us and somehow Jaehyun and I ended up behind them...I never realized how nice it was to talk to Jaehyun about something that wasn’t school. I also never realized how cute and funny he was. While talking to him my heart was beating fast.....

- 

Collapsing on my bed I opened the snapchat app up and looked through the snaps i saved. There were snaps of Kun beating Sicheng on those dance machine, but a certain snap I remember taking caught my eye. It was a snap of Jaehyun pulling a funny face and me laughing in the background. I chuckled at the memory 

“I’m surprised he even let me take that snap” I said aloud as the snap kept repeating  

“Let you take what” Lucas said bursting through the doors 

“Geez Lucas YOU KNOW THERES A THING CALLED KNOCKING?!” I said sitting up and quickly turned off my phone 

“Oh wow that’s a thing? Just kidding, Okay Y/N I figured out the chicken and egg situation” Lucas said while sitting on my bed. I groaned and fell back onto my bed putting a pillow on my face. 

-

April Fools ch.1

intro / next

A/N: ahhhh I hope you liked this the first chapter!!!! If you haven’t seen my last post about schedules plz check it out! If you have any you can go ahead and ask me :) also this is posted earlier than expected jwdcbkd. I’m also curious if you guys want niexzy diaries on my dance club and if I got in and how practices are? 

[words-with-wren]

October Eleventh - DBH fanfic

Summary: As a difficult date roles by for Hank, he upsets Connor by refusing to listen to his friend. Things come to a head.

Word count: 2,456

A/N: Whoops it’s 12am I did not mean to stay up this late but I kinda reached a point at about 11 where I was like “im gonna finish this.” And i did! I’m very tired now. Please don’t tag as ship. 

| A03 |

“Lieutenant – this is your fifth drink of the night. I highly recommend we leave before you become too intoxicated to drive.”

Connor sat at the bar beside Hank, who was finishing yet another drink. The lieutenant glanced sideways at him, before waving at the bartender to bring him another drink. Connor didn’t say anything, though annoyance rushed through him briefly.

Hank had been acting odd all week. Connor had let it slide mostly, but his drinking was starting to get out of hand again and he was starting to get worried.

“Hank please,” he began, trying to reason with him. “Oh, get lost,” Hank growled, picking up the next glass. “Let me be.”

“I can’t do that, Hank. I don’t want you to hurt yourself and there is a chance that if you continue to drink at this rate you that will happen.”

“Does it look like I care?” Hank growled, downing the drink. Connor scowled, his annoyance growing.

“You may not care but I do,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Hank didn’t answer, just called for Jimmy to bring him the bottle. He seemed to have no intentions of leaving any time soon. “Hank, I am well aware of how hard this time of year might be for you but there is no reason for you to kill yourself because of something that happened years ago,” he said sharply, annoyed – and rather angry – that Hank wasn’t listening to him.

The lieutenant slowly lowered the bottle, seeming to be barely holding in anger. He turned to Connor and the android was taken aback by the fury in his partner’s eyes.

“You are 'well aware', are you,” he spat, anger flashing. “You don’t know a thing about what I’ve been through, you damned machine.”

Connor blinked, taken aback by the fury in Hank’s words. But they only served to fuel his own anger.

“I’m trying to help you from running yourself into an early grave!” Connor snapped, balling his fists. “If you continue to persist down this path you will kill yourself and I am trying to help you.”

People were starting to look at them now, but Connor didn’t care. He was too worked up, too angry at Hank for not listening – for never listening.

“Maybe I don’t give a damn about if I kill myself or not,” Hank snapped, turning in his seat to face Connor, the bottle clasped tightly in one hand. “Maybe you should let me get on with my own life and leave me to it! You keep trying to fix me but yer not even alive yourself.” He jabbed his finger into Connor’s chest and the android fought back the anger and hurt his comments brought.

“Stop taking your anger and grief out on me!” he said shortly, ignoring the looks of the other patrons. “It’s not my fault your son got himself killed. Maybe if you had been a better driver he wouldn’t have been hurt. Or were you drunk then too?”

Silence fell and Connor instantly regretted his words. But he was too worked up to take them back right – part of him hoped they had hurt Hank. At least then he might listen.

Hanks stood, and Connor’s LED flashed briefly red as he hurriedly scrambled to his feet as well, intimidated by the older man.

“Get. Out,” Hank hissed. Connor pulled himself up to his full height, refusing to be intimidated any more. He could smell the alcohol on the other man’s breath, could see the anger burning in Hank’s form. “I said. Get. The. Hell. Out!”

Hank’s fist was suddenly swinging at his head and Connor acted on instinct, ducking as it flew just over him. Hank stumbled, off balance, and staggered into the bar.

“Alright! Enough of that. Android, you get out of here if you’re gonna cause trouble,” Jimmy called from behind the bar. Connor, still angry, stalked past Hank as the lieutenant sank back into his seat and took a long chug off the bottle.

Connor slammed the door behind him as he stormed outside, fists clenched, LED flashing between yellow and red, body tense. Hank had no right to be so angry at him. Hank had no right to ignore his offers of help. Hank had no right to say he wasn't alive.

He began walking, not caring where just needing to cool down. As he walked, the crisp fall air biting at his skin, he began to return to his senses, to lose the anger burning in his veins. And he realised he had made a mistake – gone too far and said something he shouldn’t have.

Would Hank forgive him for that? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He kept walking, his LED a solid, angry red. What would he do now? Hank wasn’t going to take him back after what he had said.

He closed his eyes as he walked, trying to calm himself. He would give Hank a while to cool down, and then offer an apology. As for what came next – he wasn’t sure. Maybe Markus would give him a place in New Jericho.

He was jerked from his thoughts by a hand around his neck, pulling him roughly back. His eyes snapped open as he was hauled into the shadows of an alleyway, his arms pinned in the grips of a group of men.

He was dragged into the darkness between two buildings, unable to break free of the hands holding him. He should have been more careful, more alert – he knew this was an area known for android attacks.

“What do we have here?” A man approached him, another man and a woman flanking him. There were two holding Connor down – only five in total. He could take five. Then a hand slammed into his chest, causing him to collapse, held up only by the two men behind him. Warning messages flashed briefly in his vision – no serious damage done.

“This is a droid free zone, tin can,” the man said. Connor now noticed the two behind him were holding a variety of blunt weapons. He needed to do something.

He sagged, allowing them to think they had beaten him. Then, as he felt their grip loosen, he moved. Ripping his hand free, he spun and slammed his fist into the face of the other man holding him. He staggered back cursing.

Connor didn’t hesitate, spinning to face the other person holding him. She ducked under his blow but – anticipating that – Connor brought his knee into her chest.

Then something slammed into the back of his head, causing his optical units to black out for a second. More warnings flashed and he stumbled forward. Not letting himself fully recover, he spun, stopping the next blow with his arm. Pain flashed through them, but he paid it no heed, grabbing the pipe and ripping it from its owner’s grasp. He had a weapon now.

But even a weapon wasn’t enough. Connor, outnumbered, surrounded and taken by surprise was beaten back. He found himself cornered, his back against one of the walls. The five attackers surrounded him, inching slowly forward. Connor began to feel worried, his heart beating quickly, LED circling red.

He blocked a blow with his pipe, but was taken by surprise by another hit from behind him, slamming into the back of his knee. He dropped to one knee, catching himself with his hand. Another blow slammed into his back, knocking him fully to the ground.

He struggled to stand, but they didn’t give him a chance. A kick landed on his side, another on the back of his head. Pain flashed through him, warnings making his vision flash red. He couldn’t do anything but curl into a ball and protect his vital parts.

Desperate and in pain, he did the only thing he could think of – he called for help. A text, a plea, a single word sent to Hank that took up far too much of his energy.

His attackers left at some point, when Connor wasn’t exactly sure. He just knew the pain dulled, the warnings stopped piling up.

He tried to move, but the pain was too much and he collapsed again, unable to support his own weight with his shaking arms. He couldn’t do anything, could only wait – only hope that Hank would find him.

And after what had happened earlier he wasn’t sure Hank would even come.

Thinking was too much – his body went into shutdown, working overtime to try and fix the damage he had received. The world turned black and Connor welcomed the escape from the pain.

Hank woke with a pounding headache. That wasn’t very usual for him – especially this time of year. He groaned, pushing himself up from the bar he was slumped over. That was a mistake – he rested his head in his heads and groaned again.

He was still at Jimmy’s Bar – not the first time he had passed out here. But something was different this time, something had happened.

“Welcome back to the land of the livin’,” Jimmy said, his voice causing Hank to wince. The lieutenant looked up at the bartender. “I need to close up soon, so I’d appreciate it if you move out for the night.”

Hank nodded, heaving himself out of his seat. The world spun for a moment and he steadied himself against the bar. He was forgetting something – what was it.

“Connor – where’d Connor go?” he asked, turning to Jimmy. He frowned, trying to remember what had happened before he had past out.

“The android?” Jimmy asked. “You nearly knocked its head off – I sent it out.”

It all came back to him and Hank cursed under his breath. He had said things he shouldn't have, had sent Connor away  – who knew what had happened to the kid?

Then he remembered what Connor had said about Cole and anger replaced the guilt. He stumbled out of the building, unsure of what to do. At the moment, all he wanted was to go home and sleep off his hangover, but he didn’t really want to drive in the state he was in.

Absently, he fished his phone out of his pocket, wincing as the bright light from its screen burned into his face.

A single message shone out of the small machine – a message from Connor containing a single word, sent a good two hours ago.

Help

Worry fought with anger in Hank’s mind, making his headache worse. What had happened to the kid – did he even care? Connor deserved what he got, after what he had said.

But he had to do something. So he began to set off down the street, looking for the android. If Connor had got hurt he would never forgive himself.

Just like he had never forgiven himself for what had happened four years ago on that icy stretch of road.

Connor’s systems had been flickering on and off for the past two hours. Now he was woken fully by a presence near him, and hand on his shoulder and a voice cursing in the distance.

He forced his eyes open, blinking dully in the dim light. Hank was crouched over him, talking. What he was saying, Connor didn’t know.

“Hank,” he managed to gasp out.

“I’m here kid,” Hank said, his voice sounding distant and far away. Connor felt detached, the pain throbbing through him drawing most of his attention. But he had to say something, he had to tell Hank he was sorry. He had to let Hank know he hadn’t meant what he had said.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he managed to gasp out. Hank looked up from the phone he was frantically texting on, turning to him. He had to know. “I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off – talking hurt.

“It’s alright Connor,” Hank said, laying a warm and comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You’re okay.”

He could feel his systems shutting down again and suddenly panic rushed through him. He didn’t want to shut down – what if he didn’t wake up this time?

“Hank,” he called, reaching weakly with one hand. “I – I’m sca…” he trailed off, pain making it hard to talk. Hank grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m right here, okay? I’ll stay here until the ambulance arrives – you’re gonna be alright.” He kept talking, his voice comforting, calming the fear Connor felt as he slowly slipped back into darkness.

             He woke again, in much less pain this time. Something warm was pressed into his side, something comfortable and familiar under him. A quick systems analysis told him that he was stable and would be fully recovered in just a short time.

             He opened his eyes, finding himself lying on Hank’s couch, Sumo resting beside him. The dog gave his nose a lick as he came too, and he smiled, lifting his hand to run it through the animal’s fur.

             “How’re you feeling?” Hank was sitting at the computer in the corner of the room and had twisted in his chair to face him. Connor blinked.

             “To be honestly, I feel horrible,” Connor admitted, his voice sounding weak. “But I will recover.”

             Silence fell between them, a slightly awkward silence as they both remembered what was said. Final,ly Connor sighed.

             “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was upset and should not have said what I did.”

             Hank was quiet for a long time, and for a moment Connor was worried he wouldn’t accept his apology. He wouldn’t be surprised really. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven after what he had said.

             But finally, Hank spoke.

             “I’m sorry too, kid,” he said after a sigh. “I’m not myself ‘round this time of year. Too...” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Too many bad memories,” he muttered – almost to himself.

             They fell silent again, and Connor struggled to think of a way to voice what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke.

             “I – I can find a place in New Jericho,” he said, his voice trailing off as he finished.

             “No – no,  we were both worked up. You don’t need to exile yourself for that. I shouldn’t have sent you out, shouldn't have said you weren't alive. It’s just…” He sighed, not finishing his thought. Connor was pretty sure he knew what his friend was thinking.

             “It wasn’t your fault, Hank,” he said. The lieutenant snorted.

             “If I keep telling myself that, maybe one day I’ll believe it,” he muttered under his breath. “You rest up, Connor. You’re gonna be alright.”

             Connor nodded, knowing he couldn’t help Hank carry his grief. He sank back into the couch, closing his eyes and letting his systems take over as they repaired him.

[theharlequinwriter]

He’s Just like you.

Summary :  you and sam have a bad fight causing you to leave not knowing your pregnant and its a couple years later

Word count : 2,720

triggers: swearing.

“Dean wheres sam”

I stood on my tip toes looking over deans shoulder looking for my tall boyfriend sam.

“He took of with that demon bitch”

I gritted my teeth.

“Ruby”             I hated her more than anything , I knew that she was lying to us about helping dean outta going to hell but of course we couldn’t took a damn angel to save him. I hated how much sam trusted her , I feel like he would chose her over me , so I avoided the question during fights. I sat back on the couch grabbing my food from the brown bag dean had.

“You okay y/n?”

“Im fine why?”

“You seem upset lately maybe a little bitchy”

I pushed deans arm , taking a bite of my burger. We sat watching movies until at least midnight when sam finally came back in the door. Dean and I both turned now looking at sam who stood there as if he had just gotten off work.

“Where were you sam?”

“With ruby babe”

He walked by grabbing his salad pecking me on the cheek. I heard more footsteps and in walks in the demon herself ruby.

“Why the hell are you here demon bitch”

“Watch you’re tone with me hunter skank”

I walked around the couch coming face to face with ruby.

“Lets go bitch”

I pushed her back , sam came grabbing my hand leading me to the kitchen.

“What the hell y/n”

“Really sam”

“What?”

“You brought her here knowing how I feel about her”

“Shes helping me”

“I can help you sam”

“Not like she can”

“Are you sleeping with the bitch or something”

“What no”

“Then what the hell sam , why am I getting the 3rd degree here”

“Shes helping me y/n more than you or dean ever could”

“Wow sam I stayed with you even after dean went to hell ,I stayed when I found out you’re a demon blood junkie , I stayed even when she came”                                                       “No one asked you too y/n”

His hands now clenching into fist.

“I didnt ask you to stay , you did that all on your own”

“What was I gonna do sam , let you go y2k on everyone and everything?”

“I dont know y/n but it would of been easier if you just left”

“Really why so you could fuck her without feeling guilty after , oh im sorry I mean "helping” you"  

“Actually you know what y/n yes okay yes im fucking ruby ,ya happy now , wanna know why? Cause she doesnt bitch all the time , she doesnt need me to protect her , id rather her have my back at least I can depend on her”

“SAM!”

dean yelled stepping between us.

I felt my heart shatter In pieces, I felt tears forming , I didnt want him to see me cry.

I walked away still hearing him yell at dean about how ruby is better for him than me , how maybe I should just go. I went to our room grabbing everything I could , smashing pictures as I walked around the room.

“Okay  sam , hope your happy”

I walked away grabbing my bag and a little money. I gave dean a hug then I walked out the door not looking back.

I finally got to a cheap hotel where I got a single bed for the weekend. I walked inside falling onto the bed tears falling down my face. How could he say that. I took a shower , getting out my phone had a text from dean.

-hey y/n think it finally hit sam your not coming back , he might try call ya Ill let you know if he does anything stupid and dont worry about ruby ill gank her soon-

I didn’t reply i want sam to worry to realize im not going back.

Its been two months since I left, i decided I need to get a apartment in a little town where supernatural things didn’t occur.  I went into the little market buying some food and shampoo oh and pregnancy test.

I got home taking the test , it came back positive only one guy could be the father.

Sam.

I havent slept with anyone else or even looked at another guy I still loved sam.                    

*TWO YEARS LATER*

“Mommy , mommy look”

I got down on knees taking the drawing out of ethans hand.

My son ethan looks just like his father , he has his eyes and hair , his laugh , smile. He makes me miss sam everyday.

“Thats amazing baby , what is it”

Looking at the drawings it was a very tall person with a cape and what look like dogs.

“Its daddy , you said hes saving people from devil dogs , silly mommy”

I put it on the frige placing him in his seat. I gave him his lunch , he always wanted to know about sam ever since he had a play date with a kid who had both his parents. I told him sam was off saving the world from monsters like ghost and devil dogs. He always asked if his daddy was coming home or will he ever see him.

He was so smart for a child his age. After lunch I asked if he wanted to go to the park to play and feed the ducks.

We got in the car buckling ethan into his seat. When got to the park , ethan took off for the swings. I sat on a bench close enough to see but not so close I can’t see my surroundings. Im still a hunter  after all. Ethan was playing tag with some of his friends when another mom came and sat next to me.

“Hey y/n , how are you”

“Im fine susan ,how are you”

“Honestly a little shook up , some fbi agents came to the house asking about murders”

“Creepy”

“Oh my thats them”

She pointed her finger over at two men in suits , walking twords us. I brushed my hair into my face , I turned to her but she was already gone. As they got closer I could hear them banter back and forth.

“Excuse me miss may we ask you some questions”

I sat up looking up at the man who spoke.

“Hi sam”

His jaw dropped as I spoke to him , I flashed a smile , I jumped up hugging dean before reaching out offering sam a hug. He pulled me in hugging me tightly his hands rested on my lower back. I pulled away still having the smell of him fill my nose

“So what’s going on , I havent heard about any murders”

Dean spoke when sam just stood  there with a big smile across his face.

“Happend in the 80’s thinking its a wendigo who went quite”

“You guys still gotta gank it nice or not a monsters a monster right”

“Right”

Dean winked at me before sam cut in.

“So uhh whats new”

“A little this , a litte that”

I didnt tell him about ethan, I didnt need a absent father in his life Sam kept glancing at the ground then back at me.

“We ganked ruby”

“Oh im sorry ”

“Im not ,she was tricking me”

“Oh well cant trust anyone I guess”

“Ive missed you y/n”

“I miss you too sam”

His smile grew bigger.

“Maybe we can get a drink tonight and talk”

“I can’t im sorry”

“Oh you got a boyfriend or something?”

“No ”

Dean now trying to help his brother spoke now giving me his best charm.

“Why dont the three of us go get a drink and talk about getting the band back together”

“Id love to you guys but I cant”

Sam was about to protest when ethan came running from the playground.

“Mommy , mommy I caught a bug”

I picked him up sitting him on my hip.

“Let me see”

He opend his hand showing a dead cricket"

“Its dead hun”

“I know silly mommy , it was scaring lisa so I saved her , like how daddy saved you from monsters”

I kissed his cheek putting him back down , crouching down I grabbed his hand.

“Go say bye we gotta go home”

He smiled running off to say bye, I stood up sam and dean both wide eyed and speechless.  I waved my hand in front of sams face making him snap out of his trance.

“You have a a a a son?”

“Yea his names ethan”

Sam stayed speachless watching ethan run back to us.

Ethan stood by my side , gripping my pant leg tightly. Sam crouched down pulling out his fake fbi badge.

“Hi im sam”

Ethan grabbed his badge.

“Im ethan”

“Tell him your full name ethan”

ethan tucked his head into my leg before looking back at sam smiling.

“My name is Ethan Samuel Winchester”

Sams head shot up looking at me, he stood up trying to figure out what to say.                                        

“Ethan hunny dont forget your toy”

He ran back to the swings where his toy dragon sat in the sand. Sam finally spoke.

“Is he mine?”

“Yes sam , hes your son”

“When did you find out"                    

"Maybe a month and a half after I left”

“Why didnt you call?”

“Didnt think you would care”

I could see tears filling up his eyes. Ethan walked over , picking him up I gave sam and dean quick hugs before walking to my car , shaky and on the verge of tears.

*sams pov*

Dean and I just killed off the 90 year old wendigo. Dean decided we had a crazy day so the bar was the perfect place to go. We sat down at a table near the back , dean ordered 6 shots of whiskey , 3 for each , and two beers one for each. As we drank my mind kept snapping back to y/n and our son.

“Sammy?”

I snapped out of my day dream to dean cheersing me with his shot.

“So you’re a daddy sam”

“Im not a dad im just the biological father , I wasnt there for anything”

Dean downed his other two shots , so did I. He raised he hand asking for 3

More rounds. We were in the middle of our 3 or was it 5th round with jack when I finally yelled.

“Why the fuck didnt she call me dean? Ya know just be like oh hey sam im pregnant with your child just fyi or a text something”

“You told her to go sam , told her you wanted ruby , that you were cheating on her with ruby , that you wished she left , you made her feel worthless , unloved , unwanted , you were so jacked up on demon blood you didnt care when she walked out the door”

I buried my face in my hands , dean was right , it was my fault she never came back or called , I dont blame her for hiding him from me.

Dean cleared his throat.

“She clearly tells the kid about you”

I looked up at him , feeling tears build behind my eyelids.

“What?”

“She tells the kid about you I mean you didnt hear him say he saved the girl from the bug like his daddy saved her”

My heart beat hard agianst my chest. I had to see her ,tell her everything. I stood up but dean pushed me back into my seat.

“2 more rounds”

After we drank I felt the room spinning , my thoughts jumbled between y/n and ethan , and more alcohol. I walked outside feeling the cold air hit my face.

“Cas!”

I yelled when I heard the sound of wings I turned to see 3 cas’s , he spoke but I couldn’t hear him.

“T-t-t take me to y/n”

Next thing I knew I was infront of a little white house.

*y/n pov*

*BANG BANG*

I ran to the door , it was 2 am who the hell is banging at my door this late. I opened the door to find a very drunk , very sad sam.

“Sam?”

He smiled pulling me to his chest.

“Y/n!!”

I took him inside sitting him on the couch handing him a water bottle.

“Sam what are you doing here?”

“This right here ”

He patted his hands on the couch.

“Is where im meant to be”

“Sam please dont”

“Please just listen”

I sat next to him making sure we didnt touch.

“Y/n im so sorry for how I acted , for what I s s s said , ruby was a lying bitch just l l like you said. She tricked me into horrible things I never had sex with her , I never even looked at her like that , I was so junked up on demon blood that I didnt see that you were what I needed , w w what I need baby.”

I saw tears falling from his eyes now when he spoke.

“Baby you are my world , and we have a son ,  , I dont blame you for keeping him from me, but I I can’t , wont miss anymore of his life or yours , I need you back y/n , im so sorry so so so sorry”

He was now full on crying , I could tell dean had gotten him drunk so he could say how he felt. He looked back at me , his eyes blood shot and his     breath smelling of whiskey.

“He has your eyes sam”

“Really?”

“Yeah , he is just like you more and more everyday”

I felt tears falling down my face.

“Sam you can come back but you have to be here , I wont let you hurt ethan”

“I wont ever hurt eaither of you”

His hands grabbed mine pulling me to him so now I was sitting on his lap facing him. He put one of his hands on my lower back while the other rested on my cheek. He closed the gap between us his lips gently touching mine. I kissed back running my hands through his hair making the kiss deeper.

“Ive missed you so much sam”

I helped him upstairs ,letting him sleep in my bed. As I layed next to him , he wrapped his hands around my waist pulling me into his spooning me.

“Does ethan know about me?”

“Yeah he knows you and dean hunting   monsters like ghost and demons but he thinks your a superhero”

I heard his laugh as we fell asleep. I woke up before sam untangling myself from him. I walked downstairs where ethan sat watching his morning cartoons. I called him over to the kitchen sitting him in his chair I went to the frige grabbing things for pancakes.

“Mommy what’s wrong?”

Ethan looked at me smiling

“Nothing baby”

I walked away from my mixing bowl picking ethan up sitting him on my hip. Grabbing my wallet I took the picture of me sam and dean out handing it to him.

“That right there is your uncle dean , hes really brave and the tall guy thats your daddy sam he’s my hero”

Ethan smiled holding the picture, I walked into the kitchen sitting him down on the floor. I heard steps coming from upstairs.

“Ethan hun I have a surprise for you”

His head snapped up looking at me with wonder.

“What is it mommy?”

“I want you to look at that picture real close”

As he squinted his eyes , sam came down standing at the walk way into the kitchen.

“Now ethan look up”

Ethan looked up from the picture , as his eyes met sam , the biggest smile formed across his face.

“DADDY!!!”

he ran over grabbing sams legs as sam picked him up.

“Daddy your back!”

Sam hugged him tears falling down his face.  His eyes locked onto mine.

“Daddys home now ethan”

After breakfast dean came over so ethan could know his family. As sam and I did dishes his hands grabbed my hips spining me around so now I was face to face with him.

“Y/n I wanna be a family”

“We are sam”

“I wanna make it offical”

He reached into his pocket pulling out a ring.

“I know its not much but will you marry me ?”

“Yes sam oh my lord yes”

He kissed me , my hands tangled in jis hair as we parted I could hear ethan and dean.

“Ew mommy and daddy are kissing”

“I know right gross”

I smiled at sam , knowing he will always be there for ethan and I

[landofsomethingsomething]

ooo how about john trying to pull a prank on roxy but she either catches him in the act or pranks him back since shes been bffsies with jane for years and nothing surprises her anymore

Roxy woke to the sound of her phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Half awake and grumbling to herself, she flipped over onto her back, reached blindly out with one arm, and flopped her hand around like a dying fish until it connected with something hard and square and probably her phone. Somewhere nearby her on the bed, an indignant cat meowed a rebuke, and there was a distinct thud as the jostled animal fled. Roxy called out an apology to the affronted cat and simultaneously unlocked her phone with a quick swipe, held it up before her squinting eyes, and frowned. 

One notification, from John. A simple text containing one ominous emoji: 🎭. 

So. It was gonna be that kind of day, then. 

She didn’t bother to reply, but she did open it up so it’d mark as read on his end. Stew in that one for awhile, Egbert. She tossed her phone beside her on the bed, sat up, and stretched. Let’s do this, she thought, grinning. Another cat peered in from the bedroom door, green eyes blinking slowly. Roxy blinked slowly back. 

Phase one was easy; bedroom to bathroom. She kicked off the covers and swung her legs over the bed – and hopped lightly over the waiting tub of sopor slime plunked down on the floor, right where she’d normally be standing. No sweat. She took three steps toward the bathroom, ducked without even bothering to look, and easily cleared a roll of transparent plastic wrap fastened expertly between her vanity mirror and an old wizard clock taller than she was. Her favorite slippers (cats, of course) were discarded on the bathroom floor, kicked off before bed last night, and she bent and picked them up and carefully shook them out one by one. 

Nothing. She frowned, quirking an eyebrow. Bullshit. 

She felt around the plush soles, and – “Hah!” A telltale square chip, slid into the padding. She fished it out with a finger, shaking her head. “Got you,” she muttered, peering curiously at it. She pressed it between her fingers just to see what it would do.

The answer, apparently, was emit a pressure-trigged garbled tinny mishmash of meowing sounds through a miniscule speaker. Perfect. Laughing, she pocketed the device and continued to the toilet. Seat down. Suspicious. Behind her, a cat pranced into the room, eagerly anticipating its early morning toilet scritches. 

She went to one knee. With one hand, she gave the confused kitty the scritches it had come for, and with the other, she lifted the toilet seat, cringing back – but nothing happened. She examined every inch of the porcelain throne and found absolutely nothing, and in fact, was about to just go ahead and do her damn business already, when she thought to check the fucking toilet paper. 

Tinfoil. Not a tinfoil covered roll of toilet paper, oh no. Just a goddamn toilet paper shaped roll of tinfoil. She snorted. Went to the cabinet to pull a fresh one out. Found six more tinfoil toilet papers. Muttered a few choice oaths under her breath. 

Whatever. Who didn’t piss in the shower every once in awhile? He’d love hearing all about it, next time he was over in the morning. She pulled the tinfoil roll still up by the toilet out a bit and crinkled it, and Mr. Morning Bathroom Scritches happily took the bait, pawing at it. 

To the shower. She saw the device on the head plainly – he didn’t even try to hide it. Curious, she turned the water on just to see what would happen. 

Pink water shot out. Food dye? Probably. The little bastard had probably filled her hair shit with it, too. It was almost tempting to just use it – who had a problem with pink hair? But the truth was, she didn’t trust John’s choice of dye material. Besides, this shit was meant to turn all of her pink, obviously, not just the hair. 

– Actually, she was kind of tempted to just let that happen, too. 

Maybe later. 

She disabled the food coloring (or whatever) device and took a quick shower – and a long piss – and remembered at the last second to check the towels before yanking one off the rack. 

She lifted the edge of one, gingerly. 

It stained her fingertips pink. 

She laughed. 

The towel itself was already pink, of course, that was its natural state… all the easier to hide whatever the fuck this pink powder was all over it. And they were all like that, of course. Naturally. 

She stood in front of the mirror and resolved to air dry. It wasn’t that cold, anyway. Nothing in the hairbrush, but the blow dryer had what looked like the dessicated remains of a feather duster shoved up the barrel, so she set that down for another day. She’d make his enterprising ass pick them all out, later. Only fair. 

Back out and back under the wall of cellophane, and off to face the wardrobe. 

As it turned out, all her clothes were gone. Except her favorite dress. Which also happened to be his favorite dress. Which was a damn good dress, for like, a date. Not that it was horribly indecent – John wasn’t that kind of guy, which was usually charming – it was just, you know. Sequins. Ruffles. Showy. 

“I guess,” she said, pulling it off the hanger, “In Egbert land, prank day counts as a special occasion.” 

Another cat wound itself around her ankles, purring agreement. 

By the time she retrieved her phone, she had three more messages. Two were from John – the same emoji as before, but in greater numbers – and the third was Jane. Roxy opened that one eagerly. 

GG: Miss Roxy. GG: Might I inquire why, on this lovely spring morning, all of the clothing in my closet has been joined by what I can only describe as the most Roxy-like attire I have ever seen? TG: i would invite uTG: on this lovely spring morningTG: to ask ur fuckin son about that cause i guarantee you at this point he knows more than me GG: Oh my. GG: Prank day? TG: he was gonna turn me pink janeTG: pink from head to toeTG: pink dye pink powder and also he put a meow speaker in my meowcat slippersTG: might keep that one tbhTG: its p cuteGG: I gather from your phrasing that his dastardly efforts have been thus far unsuccessful. TG: hmmTG: actually not sure if i can trust you on thisGG: Roxy! TG: prank day is kind of an egbert AND crocker thing and u know thisGG: I cannot believe you would accuse me, your best friend, of collaborating with John to turn you pink. TG: the clothes ARE in your wardrobe apparentlyGG: And if I was in on this, why would I tell you so? TG: fuckTG: uhhhTG: idk but im sure theres a reasonTG: plots within plotsTG: wheels within wheelsTG: cats within catsTG: sec i gotta scritch a cat right fuckin nowGG: Of course. GG: Well. Since I am apparently suspect, I shall leave you to face your trials in peace. Please pick up these clothes in at least a halfway timely fashion, if you please. Closet space is an asset to be cherished, thank you very much. TG: pfft TG: u got like 15 closets all to yourself dont give me thatGG: Even so. TG: alright okayTG: if i survive this ill be by later maybeTG: maybe tomorrowTG: depends ;)GG: Not another word. GG: Tomorrow will be fine. Thank you. GG: And remember what I taught you. TG: he aint got me yetGG: Good. 

She pocketed her phone, checked her shoes five times for hidden gimmicks, found nothing, and sidestepped three buckets of glitter assembled above three separate doorways on her way out. He’d be cleaning all that up later, too, along with any cats who happened to inadvertently roll around in the glitter piles.

… After she took pictures.

The front door seemed strangely bereft of mischievous devices, and having found nothing, it was with some trepidation that she turned the knob and pushed the door open, squinting out into the daylight.

A series of loud pops and flashes nearly blinded her, as apparently an entire newsroom’s worth of photographers got to work snapping pictures. She recovered herself quickly – of course she did – and turned the arm she’d thrown up over her eyes into a dramatic wave, instead, swaying her hips as she descended the steps. The effect, she thought, was only magnified by the entourage of bounding cats spilling out around her.

“Are you serious!” John’s voice in the crowd, and then John himself, hovering up above it, arms crossed. “Not a single one?”

She waved her phone at him. “Not a one, and Janey’s already spilled the beans on where the clothes are, so you don’t even get to lord that one over me this time around.”

The cameras weren’t stopping – probably because the two of them were famous gods and the tabloids fuckin’ loved them, but whatever. She leapt up into the air and lunged after John, who made a not very sincere attempt to lunge away, only to be yanked back by Roxy’s fist bunched up in the back of his shirt. She spun him around in the air, laughing.

“What’s with all the pink, anyhow?” She elbowed him, and he caught her arm, trapping it in his. “First Jake with the blue, now you with the pink, is this kinda fetish a genetic thing I should know about?”

He wrinkled his nose – it was fucking adorable, actually – and stuck his tongue out at her. “It’s not like that,” he insisted. He was lifting her higher, high enough that the sound of the cameras was fading off into nothing. The boy did love to fly. She followed him up, smirking. “I was trying to pick something obnoxious, that you would hate, but also that you would secretly kind of like.”

“Pink kinda is my color,” she conceded.

“Exactly!”

“I liked the slippers.” She slipped the chip out of her pocket, holding it up. John laughed.

“Dirk made that just for you,” he said. “He said you’d find it, though. Guess he was right.”

She pressed the panel down and the tiny speaker erupted in heavily compressed meow-sounds, mingling with the wind. They were far, far up, now, with damp little wispy cloud trails swirling around them. “Hells of cute,” she said, waving it under his nose. He laughed and slipped an arm around her and shot up through the clouds, pulling her with him. It should have been cold up here, especially in the damn dress she was wearing, but godhood came with a number of pretty good perks.

“Tell you what,” she said, grinning, and he looked back at her curiously, eyebrows shooting up. “One day I’m gonna get you so good, you never try any of this prank day shit on me again.”

He scoffed at her. “Yeah right. That’s what they all say.”

She stopped cold in the air, and he drifted to a stop a few seconds later, looking down at her, hands on his hips. Curls of cloud stuff danced between them. Roxy grinned devlishly at him, darted forward, and –

“Hey!” John gasped, as she shot past and grabbed his legs, turning him over in the air. He reached up to grab her, missed, and she worked his shoes off with ease. “Knock it off!” He kicked at her, socked feet far too slow to actually connect, and she laughed a wild laugh and shoved him forward, somersaulting him in the air. “This is not a prank!” he insisted, righting himself and huffing at her, cheeks red. “It doesn’t count! Give me back those shoes.”

“Not a chance,” she said, sweetly, dropping them. He gasped, and predicably, he dove for them. Simultaneously, Roxy dove for him.

She caught him by the waistband as he went darting by, and momentum did the rest. He made an absolutely hilarious yelping sound, gave up on catching his shoes, and spun upward to witness her hovering above him, waving his pants in one hand like a flag.

“Roxy!” He shouted, flushing crimson. “Give those back, come on! This is not how pranking works!”

“Says you,” Roxy said, blowing him a kiss. “See you later! And remember: I love you very much.”

“Roxy, wait –”

He shot for her, but she was already gone, pants in hand, in a rush of wind and void. She laughed uproariously as the blue and white folded around her and changed abruptly to starry black.

Sucker.

[not-close-to-straight]

“Broken” (Chapter Eight)

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

******************

“Cap!” Sam pounded on their bedroom door before pushing it open. “Are you— oh sorry guys.” He stopped when he saw Bucky and Steve in bed and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Well well napping in the middle of the day? What’s this about?”

“It isn’t anything.” Bucky grunted and lifted off of Steve, smoothing his right hand over Steve’s blond hair before moving to sit in his own bed. “Just wanted some peace and quiet. What are you doin,? We already ran this morning.”

“Alarm came in.” Sam said in answer, and Steve was jumping out of bed, grabbing his suit and heading to the bathroom to change.  “He still doesn’t like to change in front of people huh?”

“Nope.” Bucky pushed his hair out of his eyes.”I bet he’s gotta do all sorts of wiggling to get into that tight thing. Nobody wants to see that.”

“Come on now!” Sam burst out laughing. “That’s an image I’m never gonna get out of my head!”

“Stop thinking about me getting dressed and let’s go.” Steve reappeared just that fast, opening the gun safe that held his shield and an assortment of other weapons. “We going or what?”

“Got that suit wiggle down quick doesn’t he?” Sam winked at Bucky and ducked when Steve pretended to throw his shield at him. “Calm down, golden boy, I was joking. Lets go.”

“Bucky.” Steve slid his shield onto his forearm and motioned for Bucky with his other hand. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can what’s going—“

“Steve.” Bucky interrupted. “You guys go do your superhero thing. I’m probably just going to sleep. You don’t need to check in on me, alright?”

“I’m nervous about leaving you alone.” He admitted and softened his voice. “It’s been months since we’ve been apart for more than a few hours.”

“I’m a big boy, Stevie.” Bucky smiled and bumped their noses together lightly. “Go save the world.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded. “Okay, but if you need anything—“

“He’ll use the bat phone!” Sam interrupted loudly. “Now let’s go already!”

Steve ducked his head and kissed Bucky's lips before heading out the door.

Sam looked Bucky up and down. “Can I kiss you too?”

“You wanna keep your lips, punk?” Bucky shot back, and Sam laughed all the way down the hallway.

******************

******************

Bucky enjoyed when the Tower was empty. It usually only happened at night, so it was a little surreal during daylight hours.

Pepper was nowhere to be seen, off doing whatever it was she did every day in her perfectly coordinated suits and professional hairstyles. Bucky thought he heard at some point that she actually ran Stark Industries, which was the money and tech behind the team.

Having seen her patented no-nonsense glare when someone got out of line, Bucky could definitely see how the formidable Ms. Potts could run the giant company.

All that to say— Bucky was glad the Tower was empty.

Now he could let his wings hang naturally instead of holding them right to his back, give the deep ache between his shoulder blades a chance to ease. He didn’t have to worry about accidentally cutting anyone, or feel self conscious about his arm. With the tower empty, Bucky could just exist, metal limbs and all.

So he thumped down the stairs to the common area, for once not thinking about how heavy his tread was or how loud the clicking of the metal edges on his wings was and made a sandwich in the kitchen without worrying about how much food to leave for everyone else.

Then he sprawled across the big couch, letting his wings lay lax, turning on one of the movies Sam was so fond of, and settled in for a relaxing afternoon.

Or it would have been relaxing, except Bucky reached out for a drink and his left arm seized up, the plates and gears beneath it tightening with an awful screeching sound until felt like his arm was caught in a vice, pain radiating from his fingertips clear up to his collarbone where the horrible thing was attached.

“Gah!” Bucky yelled out in surprise and then again in absolute panic as everything tightened even more, and he went to his knees on the living room floor, right hand grabbing his left arm, rubbing desperately in any attempt to ease the pain.

All he could do was put his head on the floor and scream, hoping that the pain gave way sometime soon.

********************

“Bucky?” Tony came tearing up the stairs from the lab, having heard both the scream of pain, and JARVIS’s alarmed call for Tony to please help Sergeant Barnes. “Bucky!”

Bucky couldn't even lift his head to see who was talking to him, couldn't pull himself out of the pain long enough to register that it was Tony, all he could smell was Alpha.

And Alpha and pain had always been a terrible combination, so his wings snapped out and opened wide, metal tips screeching across the floor and flashing in the air, a clear warning to stay away.

“Hey, hey it's okay.” Tony skidded to a stop, knelt down on the floor so Bucky would see him if he looked up. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, honey it's me. It's Tony, it's me. I know I'm not your favorite person, but honey you’ve got to stop screaming and tell me what's wrong. Let me help you, what's going on?”

“My arm.” Bucky bit out. “Tony help me.”

“Okay.” Tony ran a hand through his hair, his own wings shaking anxiously. “Okay, Bucky, I need you to pull those pretty wings back for me, alright? I can't get close to you like this. Wings in, head up, let me see you.”

Bucky pulled in a deep breath and slowly his wings retracted until they were down by his sides again, and Tony could see the stiff bend to his arm, the individual plates jerking and twitching as they tried to force-realign themselves, the noise like nails on a chalkboard. He could even see where the arm was tugging at his chest, the machinery yanking at the muscles as it tried to tighten and pull.

“Jesus Christ.” Tony muttered. “I need to get closer to you, Bucky. You gonna let me closer?”

Bucky managed a nod, his head dropping back down over his arm, and he brought his wings away further, giving Tony more room.

“Alright honey.” Tony crouched in front of him, pushing Bucky's right hand away gently so he could see what it was his left arm was doing. “Jesus, this is a piece of shit isnt it? What the hell did they graft onto you? It looks like---” his voice trailed off into mumbles, technical babble that Bucky didn't understand but couldn't care about over the pain lighting up his entire body.

He could barely breathe, the robotics in the arm yanking at his shoulder, down his chest, god he thought his heart would give out from the pain, and his eyes started glazing over as he slipped towards unconsciousness.

But the worst part about being a super soldier was that it took an awful fucking lot to put him under, and unfortunately this level of pain wasn't going to do it, so Bucky was just hovering there between too hurt to function and too strong to give in.

“You with me?” Tony brushed Bucky's hair out of his eyes, and Bucky tried to focus on his face. “Sweetheart, you with me? I'm basically gonna snap this open and cut a few wires. Your arm is going to go limp, absolutely useless until I can fix it. It's gonna hurt like a bitch and then everything should drop into a dull ache, alright? Otherwise I can't get it to stop doing this. You with me?”

“Please just help me.” Bucky whispered, and sweat dripped into his eyes, tears flooding down his cheeks. “Tony please.”

“I'm gonna help you.” Tony jumped to his feet. “I just need a few seconds, gotta grab something from the lab.”

Bucky barely registered Tony leaving, didn't even realize he was alone until a fresh wave of pain swamped him, his arm jerking and tightening again, and he was screaming all over again until there was a warm hand on his chin, a soothing voice telling him to wait wait wait I promise I'll fix it just a second baby just a second--

--A harsh snap like something broke, and then white hot blinding pain--

And nothing.

Tony grabbed Bucky when he collapsed, when he fell forward against him, and tossed the bolt cutters away, wrapping both arms around Bucky's shoulders and sitting back on the floor so the big Omega could lean against him.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Tony hushed him over and over, blinking back his own tears listening to Bucky sob into his chest, the metal arm hanging limp and heavy at his side. “I gotcha honey, holy shit, Buck, I've got you. You’re fine now. You’re fine, I promise.” Tony smoothed long hair back from Bucky's forehead, ran his hands over broad shoulders trying to comfort as best he could. “Baby, I'm so glad I was here to help. Jesus Christ, scared me to death, never want to hear you like that ever again. Shh sweet pretty Omega, just calm down. I've got you, I've got you.”

Tony was just babbling, saying anything and everything to keep Bucky calm, not even noticing he was calling Bucky baby and honey and a pretty Omega. The need to comfort, to take care of Bucky was already so deeply ingrained in the Alpha, it was instinct to say all those things, just like it was instinct to kiss Bucky's head, to keep the big soldier pressed right against him, right into his neck so the Alpha scent would calm him.

“Pretty, perfect thing.” Tony murmured, turning them slowly so he could lean against the couch and take more of Bucky's weight. “I'm so sorry, so sorry you have to go through this. Such a terrible thing for such a perfect Omega to go through. Shh, Im right here, right here for you. Not going anywhere.” 

He wasn't sure how long they sat there, how long it took for Bucky to stop shaking, but it was long enough for Tony's butt to go numb, and when Bucky finally started to pull away, Tony let him go, taking the chance change positions.

“Hows that?” he asked quietly. “I'm sure it still hurts, I'm sure your chest feels like a truck hit it, but the worst should be gone.”

Bucky looked down at the useless limb, at the metal that Tony had basically shredded to get to the wires and gears underneath. “Thank you.”

“I'm just glad I was home. Let me get you a sling for that, because it won't work at all now, and you need to keep it from moving. Any hard jolt will still hurt your chest.” Tony was gone again, looking in the medicine cabinet for something that would work like a sling and Bucky sat back up on the couch, holding his arm gingerly, and dropped his head down onto the headrest, closing his eyes, a few more tears trickling down his face.

“So I found--hey, honey it's okay.” Tony leaned forward without thinking about it, wiping the tears away. “I can't imagine how bad that sucked, but it's done now, and Bruce and I-- we can figure out what the hell happened, alright? Let me just put this on you--” Bucky sat up and Tony looped the sling around his neck, helping lift the heavy arm and secure it. “There, okay? That should keep anything terrible from happening until we can do something with it.”

“Thank you.” Bucky looked up at him uncertainly. “Really.”

“I'm just glad I was home.” Tony repeated and stepped away to give Bucky some space, clearing his throat awkwardly now that the intimate moment was over and Bucky was more in control of himself. “That was an adventure, but I think I'll get back to my lab. Feel like I'm interrupting your fun afternoon or something. I don't want to bother you or make you uncomfortable by sticking around. So if you’re okay I’m going to go.”

“Um Tony--” Bucky started to say something and Tony whipped back around, eyebrows raised hopefully.

“Yeah?”

“You said my wings---” Bucky took a deep breath. “You think my wings are pretty?”

Tony's gaze warmed. “Black and silver? Of course they’re pretty.” he cocked his head. “Bout the prettiest wings I've ever seen. Need anything else?”

“No.” Bucky whispered and Tony smiled, before heading back downstairs.

Bucky lifted his wings, wincing at the pull on his left shoulders, staring at the black and silver feathers that he hated so much.

The Alpha though they were pretty?

*******************

*******************

“So let me get this straight.” Steve folded his arms. “The first time I go anywhere without you in months and I come home and your arm is---” he gestured to the sling. “I mean for fucks sake, Bucky, what the hell happened?”

“Shut up, Cap, it's not like Bucky purposefully messed his arm up just so you wouldn't be here to help him.” Clint snapped, and sat next to Bucky on the couch, carefully avoiding his wings, but still trying to press close to Bucky's right side. “Are you alright? I bet that hurts like a bitch.”

“Of course it hurts!” Sam dropped onto Bucky's other side, pushing his wings away to make room and handing Bucky an ice pack for his chest. “Seriously though, you alright?”

“I'm fine.” Bucky muttered, looking away from Steve guiltily. “Just hurts.”

“I'm sorry.” Steve sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry. I'm just a little freaked out. Come here.” he knelt in front of Bucky, putting both arms around his waist and bringing him into a hug gingerly, scenting along his neck until Bucky relaxed against him. “Thank god Tony was here to help you.”

“You let Tony help you?” Sam asked in surprise and Bucky tried to shrug.

“Didn't have much of a choice, did I?”

“Well I guess not but---”

“Damn it, you guys, leave him alone!” Clint flared his wings in warning and leaned into Bucky's right side, pressing his nose and mouth just behind his ear in a comforting gesture. “Let’s just be glad he’s still in one piece.”

Sam and Steve grumbled a little, but close to half an hour later when Bruce and Natasha came down from their rooms, the four of them were still huddled on the couch, Bucky in the middle, the others murmuring soft things, gentle touches over whatever part of him they could reach.

Natasha lifted her phone and snapped a picture, sending it to Tony.

The Alpha messaged back with about a trillion hearts and she showed Bruce with a grin.

“Bucky will come around.” Bruce said quietly. “This is an unfortunate situation he was forced into with his arm, but it might be the thing that leads him to trust Tony. And as long as that's the end result, it doesn't really matter how it happens.

***************

“Does Tony think he can help you with this?” Steve asked when they started pulling apart for dinner. “If he cut wires he will probably have to redo it all?”

“He said he thinks Bruce and him can fix me up.” Bucky said slowly, looking down at his arm, and then up at Steve. “Tony’s  a good Alpha, isn’t he?”

“The best, Bucky.”

**********************

[axelsagewrites]

Alec Lightwood*What are you hiding?

Requested:Hi can I have an Alec x reader imagine with 2, 15, 22, 32, 80, 84 where they get into a bad argument but make up and fluff? Thank you!

Masterlist HERE

Wattpad HERE

Prompt list HERE

2. "What are you hiding?"

15. "Don't cry, please."

22. "Do you regret us?"

32. "Don't touch me!"

80. "We need to talk"

84. "Are you kidding me?! We aren't 'fine'"

Alec had been being secretive and you didn't know why. Normally he was back at your shared room at the institute by 11pm. Yeah he was late sometimes but normally he would text. Even if he forgot you could ask someone and they would know like if he was on a mission or working. Now he was coming back while you slept so you would wake up to see him.

The only time you got to spend quality time with him was on a Thursday, your shared off day. It was now Thursday and you woke up late, 11 am, to an empty bed. Strange, you thought. You phoned him but he didn't pick up. You asked around and apparently he had left that morning not saying a word. You didn't want to track him but decided if he wasn't back or responding by 2pm you would.

2pm rolled round and no text, call or his return. You huffed in annoyance before storming to your shared room, if you could call it that. You grabbed one of his arrow heads that you gave him as a gift. It was made of brass and had ornate carving’s on it. It was in a set you gave him. All of them different materials; this decorative one to sleek fighting ones. You looked it over thinking of when you gave it to him for his birthday. His smile, his laugh, the look in his eyes.

A tear slid down your cheek and when you realised it you whipped it away harshly and stormed out the room. You gripped the arrowhead hard, grateful it was blunt since it was decorative. As you walked, basically ran, you bumped into Izzy. “Hey, you okay?”

“Once I find him.” You lifted the arrowhead and she said ‘oh’ and looked away for a second.

She looked back with a hard look. “Rip him a new one.” I nodded and continued. I started my tracking and started my search.

Your pov

I found him at an old shabby bar and food place with a sigh reading ‘Tammy Ducks’. I walked in and he was sitting in a booth on his phone eating fries. He wasn't paying attention to his surroundings and their wasn't much going on any way. A couple eating some crappy food with a couple beer bottles, an old man on his laptop and a hipster on his type writer. Their was a run down bar and a counter with menus and a window that went into the kitchen. All in all it may look nice if it wasn't so old.

The man behind the counter, no older than 24, looked up as I entered. He had a scar going from his temple to mid neck. Werewolf. He smiled kindly and asked. “Need anything, misses/mister?”

“Not right now thanks.” I gave him a tight smile then looked to Alec, my glare hardening. The man saw and gave a nod.

As I walked up to Alec he didn't seem phased. Then I saw the wires dangling from his ears, earphones. I pulled his fries back as he reached for one. He looked up and saw me then took out his headphones. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

I gave a flat laugh. “No ‘hi how are you?’ no ‘I missed you babe’. Really?” I didn't wait for an answer. “We need to talk.”

“Its fine (y/n), were fine.”

“Are you kidding me?! We aren't 'fine'" I looked around after my small out burst. The couple looked away, the hipster sighed, the old man looked shamelessly and the man behind the counter gave a sympathetic smile. “Outside. Now.”

He sighed before coming out the booth we walked outside and nodded to the guy. Alec went up to the counter and flung some money on it before walking outside. Once we were outside we went to the side alley for privacy. “Talk.”

“What are you talking about?” Alec looked away as he said it.

I got straight to the point. “What are you hiding?”

He sighed aggressively. “Nothing.”

“Oh really.” He nodded, clearly annoyed.

“Do you regret us? Cause you never seem to want to be around me.”

His head snapped up. “No.” He looked around and sighed. “Look, I just wanted a break. Every free second I have you want to spend it with me. Me and Jace cant hang out by ourselves most of the time. I don't get a moment of peace and you always texts me. Cant I have one second with you not tracking my every move!”

Tears formed from my rage. “Yeah? Well maybe I’m so damn clingy because I’m worried. Did you think of that?” I talked harshly and quickly, emotions getting the best of me. “Are jobs are so dangerous I don't know if you’ll come home. I never no if its the last time I'll see you. God Alec don't you see, im just worried about you?” I ran a hand through my hair. “I want to spend time with you because I don't know how much we have. I don't know if we’ll die in battle or a mission gone wrong. I might die in your arms or the other way round tomorrow. I’m not gonna apologise for being worried!”

His head was down as I talked. He swallowed hard. “I’m just so damn worried and want to spend whatever time we have left. You could die tomorrow.” Tears began to pour down my face though I made no sound. Tears are a weakness in our line of work so you learned to be quiet.

“Don't cry, please.” I didn't stop. I wrapped my arms round me and looked down.

He reached out to grab my arm. “Don't touch me!”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I just,” he paused. “every thing was piling up on me. I just had to breathe and I blamed you. Im sorry.” We stayed in silence.

After a few moments of silence he spoke again. “Your right. One of us could die tomorrow so I don't want to fight. Not if I might not see you for much longer.” Tears still trickled down my face and I still couldn't look in his eyes. “I want to be with you. I want to see your smile, your bed head, your happiness. And I want to be their when your sad, help you get through things and make sure you feel good.” He walked closer as he talked. He wrapped his arms round me. “And if I can, I want to grow old with you. I want to have a family with you and grow old together, however unlikely for us. I want to protect you to my dying breathe even if I know you can easily kick butt.”

I laugh slightly at his end bit. I finally wrapped my arms round him too. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.” I closed my eyes and we stood like that for a few moments. I pulled away and he whipped away my drying tears. “If you feel like everything is piling up talk to me. We’ll work something out and you can vent if you want.” He ran his thumb over my cheek bone.

“I will. I don't want a break. I just sometimes need alone time.”

“We’ll work something out. You and Jace can have a boys night or day or whatever instead. Im sure I'll manage without you, just keep me in the loop.”

He nodded. “But can we spend today together?”

“I’ll bite. Lets go try that crappy food in there.”

He laughed and pulled away but grabbed my hand. “Its not that bad actually.” I raised my eyebrow at him. I saw it, it didn't look great. “I swear. Tom’s a good, no great, cook.”

As we were walking in I asked. “Tom? You replacing me?” I said jokingly.

Tom, behind the counter looked up. “I tried lass/laddie. He wont take me up on it.” He joked. Me and Alec both laughed.

“What, you’re a regular?” He nodded.

We walked towards the booth. “The hipster over there is Sam.” They raised their hand. Alec pointed to the old man with the laptop. “That’s Terrie. He’s playing some game.”

“World of war craft today.” Terrie interjected.

“That thing.” Alec shrugged. “And with them,” he pointed at the couple. “the girl with the black hair is Sarah and that other girls her date. Not a regular but maybe.” The two girls gave a small wave. “And their you have the ‘Tammy ducks’ weekday regulars.” He lifted his arms as if presenting a grand prize and I laughed.

We laughed and sat down in his both. Tom came over and took our orders, Alec ordering for me. We had our first date in a while there and many more. Alec went their by himself sometimes and other times he brought me. We could detach from the shadow world, even Jace because of the name. We got better at communicating too. That was also the place where Alec would propose 5 years later. Good old Tammy ducks; home to our first proper fight and our best memories.