#also i was talking about how i had to clean the blood off my mom after she had a nasty fall recently and i learned something too- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

autumnleaves1991-blog · 2 months

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Can't Take the Home out of Oklahoma (Javi Rivera x F! Reader)

A/N: Thank you to everyone that read We Found Love in a Tornado, this is a continuation of that. I also have another part already written and ready to post! I also recommend listening to Out of Oklahoma by Lainey Wilson while reading this. I had it on repeat the whole time I wrote it.

Pairing: Javi Rivera x F! Reader (Kate's Sister) *No physical descriptions besides mentioning younger sister.

Warnings: 18 + Language, angst, some sexual situations (no smut..yet), and movie spoilers.

“I lost three of my best friends so you could get your big grant money!” Javi shouts at Kate and she takes a step back like he’d struck her. His hands are still shaking as he replays the words over and over like a broken record. “Shit, Kate, I-”

Kate pushes past you and runs towards the white truck and you don’t hesitate to follow. “Baby,” Javi follows close behind running to keep up, “no, please don’t go.”

“No Javi,” you stop holding up your hands, “that was too far, give her some space.”

He freezes, tears tracking through the dirt staining his cheeks. But you leave, climbing in the passenger seat beside your sister and taking off into the night. Kate is silent, her knuckles bright white with how hard she is clenching the wheel and you slip off your boots and lean back closing your eyes.

“You don’t have to go with me, you know,” she whispers, her eyes still on the road.

You sit up slowly opening your eyes. “I’m not letting you go again,” you reach a hand out and leave it outstretched before her own holds on tight across the center console. “We Carter girls got to stay together. Let me know when we get there.”

Kate huffs out a broken laugh, “And where are we going?”

“You can’t take the home out of Oklahoma, Katie, you’ll know when you get there,” she squeezes your hand but doesn’t let go and you lean back closing your eyes.

Several hours pass before the truck slows down and you blink away the sleep, the old farmhouse a friendly site. You sit up, look at Kate with a small smile, and follow her out of the truck, finding the spare key and entering the house.

Everything is as you left it and you quickly find two glasses and fill them with water from the jug in the fridge. “Mama, it’s us,” Katie calls when a shadow moves in the doorway, her arms opening for us.

“My girls,” she embraces us and presses a kiss to our head, before looking at our disheveled appearance and the blood drying on Kate’s cheek. “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Kate shakes her head, “we just needed to come home.”

“You go take a shower, I’ll get you some extra clothes and clean up the bedroom,” Mama hurries towards the stairs.

“You shower first,” you hold Kate’s hand and follow mom up the stairs, “you stink.” Kate smiles sadly before giving you a playful shove.

“If I knew you girls were coming, I would have had the room all set up,” Mama tosses shirts and magazines into a box before putting it on the bed with a sigh. “What happened out there?”

“We survived an EF4,” she covers her mouth, “barely to be honest. If it weren’t for Kate we’d probably be dead. Javi and Tyler covered us from the brunt of the damage.”

“Javi? He came by a few months ago looking for you two. And isn’t Tyler your boss?”

“Yeah, he is. He’s a really great guy, and absolutely losing his mind over Kate.”

“No, he is not,” Kate blushes coming into the room and ringing out her hair with the towel, “we’re just acquaintances. If you want to talk about someone losing their mind it’s Javi! He ran into a Tornado and confessed his love for you live on camera.”

“He did what now?” Mama looks between you two, before crossing her arms with a smirk, “I am going to have to see this video.”

“Tomorrow,” you tell her, “I promise you can see the video tomorrow. Tonight he’s on my shit list.” You walk away towards the shower, stripping off your clothes.

“Uh oh,” Mama calls, “trouble in paradise?”

“You tell her,” you shout at Kate before getting in the shower and washing off the dirt and grime from the day. When you emerge Mama is gone and Kate is snuggled under the covers of the queen size bed of her former bedroom.

“Do you need anything?” you ask her, tugging on the clothes Mama left at the end of the bed. Kate doesn’t say anything, just pulls back the cover with a raised brow. You don’t hesitate crawling into the bed beside her and flicking out the light. “You okay?” you whisper, turning to face her.

“No,” she shakes her head, “Javi was right. They died because I got it wrong. I killed them.”

You reach over and pull her into your arms, letting her cry against your chest, her arms wrapped tight around your waist. “Listen to me, Katie,” you whisper when her cries slow, brushing her hair out of her face, “it was a horrible tragedy. And there is nothing you did that could change that. That storm took everything from you, when are you going to stop letting it?”

Kate is quiet contemplating your words and eventually sleep claims you both. Two sisters, holding on to one another, weathering the storm.

The next morning comes too soon, the sun streaming through the window and the roosters crowing at the first break of daylight. Mama moves around the house and the scent of coffee floats up the stairs, and you crawl out from under Kate and slip silently down the stairs.

“I LOVE YOU!” you hear Javi shout from the kitchen and come around the corner to see Mama sitting at the table with her laptop and a cup of coffee. A hand pressed to her mouth as she watches the moment Javi literally ran through a storm to follow you.

She presses the keyboard and looks up at you, “that’s got to be the most damn romantic thing I’ve ever seen. And I watch alot of hallmark movies.”

You snort, “thanks, mama. I feel pretty lucky to be on the same level as hallmark.” The coffee is fresh and you prepare the cup and bring it over to the table, “I wish we could just live in that moment.”

“Why? Is he not treating you right?”

“No, he is. And I do really love him, but he hurt Katie. And his company Storm Par while built with good intentions are taking advantage of people’s tragedy.”

“Sounds like something you need to talk about with him,” she sips her coffee and reaches a hand out to hold your own. “Javi is a good man, he’s really grown since he first came around here. And I can tell by that video that he really loves you. You’ll figure everything out.” Mama rises, kissing the top of your head before walking out the front door to muck and feed the cows.

You sit there, drinking another two cups of coffee before Kate stumbles down the stairs dressed for the day. You switch places, giving her a cup before climbing back up the stairs to get dressed. When you’re finished you follow her out to the barn and sit back watching her go through the memories and the grief that follows.

Neither of you notice the sound of a truck pulling up until the barn door opens and Tyler and Javi walk through the door followed by our smirking mama. “Seems like you two have some guests,” she looks between the four of you, seeing the variety of expressions. “I’m gonna make some lunch, the boys are staying.” She doesn’t ask, retreating to leave the four of you in silence.

Kate sighs rubbing her head, “what are you doing here?”

“Javi here gave me your address, Dex remembered your name from an article a few years back,” Tyler steps toward her, “I’m real sorry about your friends.”

“And I was an asshole,” Javi's voice cracks, “I should never have said that, Kate. I hope you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, it’s the truth. I killed them,” Kate lowers her head fidgeting with her fingers, “but-I am tired of letting that storm take anything else away from me.”

“Can we have a moment?” Javi looks between you and Tyler, and you look to Kate who nods at you. You follow Tyler out of the barn but not before Javi reaches for your arm and pulls you into his chest, snaking his arms around your waist. “When I’m done here don’t think you’re getting away with leaving me again.”

You nod, squeezing him tight before following behind and closing the barn door. Mama stands against the fence acting like she hasn’t been listening the whole time and you laugh.

“That fence seems real interesting mama,” you tease giving her a hug from behind.

“Tyler,” she turns, wrapping you up in her arms, “you’ve been taking my baby into Tornados for two years and we haven’t met, how is that possible?”

“I’m not sure ma’am but I think you may be seeing a lot more of me.” Tyler looks back at the barn doors before turning back around, “hopefully.”

“Why don’t you stay the night? We have plenty of extra space.” Mama holds you tight as you go to protest, effectively shutting you up. “I insist, both you and Javi can spend the night.”

Tyler beams, “thank you ma’am, sounds like a wonderful offer.”

“Perfect, I’ll go make some lunch!”

Tyler waits a moment before chuckling at the embarrassed expression on your face. “She seems real friendly,” he teases.

“Nosey is more like it,” you grumble before cracking a smile, “but she means well.”

“How are you holding up?” He asks, leaning on the fence beside you, “that was one hell of a twister.”

“I think the twister was rather mild compared to the rage I felt when Javi yelled at Kate.”

Tyler lifts a brow, “you’ve kinda jumped ship with everything regarding your sister. I remember a few days ago you being so angry to see her.”

“That was before I knew, before I really understood…how broken she is.” You glance up to see Tyler already looking at you, “my sister lost everyone she cared about. I remember thinking Jeb was the one she was going to marry someday. They loved each other so much.”

You sit there silent before the creaking of the barn door has you standing up straight, Javi making a beeline to you. “She’s all yours,” Javi tells Tyler, clapping him on the back as the other man all but runs into the barn.

Javi stands before you, your arms crossed over your chest and a frown on your face. “Baby-“ he starts before you step forward and shove him, hard.

“That’s for what you said to Kate,” you feel the tears burn, shoving him again, “and that’s for being an asshole.”

“I deserve that,” he says quietly, resigned. “You done pushing me, baby?” You nod, brushing the tears off your cheeks and he holds up his hands, “can I hold you?”

“Yes,” he doesn’t hesitate for a second.

His arms are warm and you can feel the muscles as he tugs you into his chest, your head landing in the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, pressing kisses to your head, “I’m so sorry for saying that. I-I was just angry and hurt and scared and I took it out on you and Kate.”

“I was scared too, Javi,” you hold him tighter, “I almost had you ripped away from me, literally. We almost died in that pool, all of us. And then the second we get out, Scott is there trying to make money off of that motel owner. I just lost my mind.”

“I know,” he rests his head against you, “I got to figure a way out of this. I really needed the money for the start up, but not like this.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he pulls back to look down at you.

“We?” he smiles.

“Yes, we. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I don’t know about that. I was unprepared for how much it would hurt to see my whole life drive off in my truck.”

You cringe, “sorry about that. We did kind of leave you stranded.”

“You had every reason,” he shakes his head pulling you back into his chest, “I was a major asshole.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “you were.”

He laughs, tickling your side, “hey! I said I was sorry.”

You squirm trying to move away but he holds you tighter, both of you laughing, the stress from the last 48 hours melting in his arms. “I forgive you.” He sags in relief, before leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, your arms winding around his neck. The kiss turning more passionate with every second.

“That is going to take some getting used too,” you jump apart with a yelp. Kate and Tyler standing in the doorway to the barn. “My best friend and my baby sister, gross.”

“Oh hush,” you chastise teasingly, “imagine how I feel with my boss making goo goo eyes at my older sister, talk about gross.”

“I do not make goo goo eyes,” Tyler puts his hands on his hips.

“But you don’t deny you have feelings for her?” you challenge matching his stance.

“Well I- “ Tyler shakes his head before sighing, “I can’t argue with you there.”

Kate looks at him with wide eyes and opens her mouth to respond when Mama shouts from the front porch, “lunch is ready!”

The conversation burns in their eyes and you look at Javi with a grin, pulling him towards the kitchen to help bring out the food.

Mama has outdone herself, bringing out a plethora of bbq and sides for us to devour. The sweet tea flows and everyone smiles as they dig into the food.

“So Javi,” Mama passes me the coleslaw, “what are your intentions with my youngest?”

Javi chokes on his tea and you frantically pat his back and glare at your mama. He clears his throat, catching his breath and taking your hand, “Excuse me ma’am you caught me by surprise.” Mama grins, not looking the least bit sorry for almost killing your boyfriend. “I love her. I’m going to do my best to never let her forget that for the rest of her life. And in the future, if she’ll have me,” he meets your eyes, giving you a wink, “she’ll let me become Mr. Carter.”

“Good,” Mama smiles, “and you,” she turns to Tyler.

Tyler never falters, his smile in place as he looks at Kate, “maybe I can convince Kate to give me a second date. Since the first one was interrupted.”

“That was not a date,” Kate argues.

“Okay,” he nods, “then a first date. We can start there.”

“How about you go tonight?” Mama smiles, looking at the four of you, “take her line dancing.”

“Mama,” Kate chastises, “I’m not ready.”

“No time like the present, Katie,” Mama stands lifting the plates and walking towards the house.

“We don’t have too,” Tyler places a gentle hand on her arm, “I just want to spend some time with you.”

Kate looks at him grateful, “thank you.”

“What about you?” Javi looks at you with a smile, “want to go line dancing?”

“You want to go line dancing?” Your brows reach the ceiling as you look at him.

“Or,” he looks at Kate and Tyler, “how about we dance here?” He stands holding out his hand, “milady?”

“There’s no music,” you stay seated looking for your sister for backup.

“I got it,” Tyler pulls his phone from his pocket and pulls up the Spotify app. “Here we go,” he turns up the volume, Ain’t in Kansas Anymore by Miranda Lambert blaring out of the small speakers.

“Come on baby,” Javi moves his hips back and forth and you stay in your spot watching him with wide eyes. “Tyler buddy, come help me out!”

Tyler jumps up with a cheer and as the chorus breaks they start dancing, their fingers in the air as they twirl their finger in Tyler’s signature move. Kate laughs beside you, quickly covering her mouth as they move to the beat, spinning to give you their backs.

“Come on girls,” Mama shocks you both, whipping around, “live a little.”

“Shit,” Kate looks at you with a shrug, both of you scrambling to your feet to dance beside them. The four of you laugh through several songs, trying to keep up with the steps, Javi breaking off to pull you into his arms for a slow dance. Jelly Roll and Lainey Wilson serenading you to Save Me.

You rest your head on his chest as he sways you to the music. Kate and Tyler move closer together and he holds one of her hands and wraps the other around her waist. They’re stiff at first before Tyler flashes her a smile and she melts into his arms.

“I meant every word,” Javi whispers and you lift your head to look at him, hands pressed to his chest and his hands low on your hips. “I love you, baby. And I’m gonna spend the rest of my life trying to prove it to you.”

“When did you know?” his eyes soften as he thinks back.

“When you came and tapped me out.”

“That long?” You shake your head, “we’ve wasted so much time.”

“What about you?”

“After the EF5,” you close your arms and lean against his chest, “I just remember running into the hospital and seeing you standing there. And my heart stopped.” His hands run comfortingly on your back, “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.”

“I know,” he tightens his arms around you, “I felt so numb to everything and then you come barreling into me. Almost took me to the ground,” he chuckles, “I should have realized it then.” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“We both made mistakes,” you open your eyes and pull back, “the main thing now is that we’re together and nothing is gonna tear us apart.”

He leans down and kisses you, wrapping his arms around your waist. The music fades and for a moment nothing exists besides the two of you. His lips are warm and soft and he groans tugging you closer till you’re flush against each other. His tongue moves out to flick against your lips and you open your mouth on a moan tugging his curls between your fingers.

“Javi,” you whimper, feeling him hard against you and leaving you dripping.

When you come up for air you notice the music gone and so are Tyler and Kate. “Do you wanna move this inside?” he whispers against your lips.

“God yes,” you sigh, “but I would rather the first time we have sex not be in my childhood bedroom.”

He chuckles, his voice deep and raspy, “understood. But,” he leans down lowering his voice to whisper in your ear, “but I am going to make love to you baby, and soon. I’m gonna taste every inch of this body and have you shaking beneath me, till I make you cum so hard you see stars.”

“Fuck, Javi,” you grind against him, your panties drenched, “you can’t say shit like that to me.”

He chuckles holding your hips and pushing you back a step, “down girl,” he teases, “you’re trying to climb me like a tree.” He laughs when you pout, “you’re the one that didn’t wanna have sex in your childhood bedroom. You worried Justin Timberlake would be jealous?”

“Don’t insult Justin,” you glare, “he’s been with me a long time.”

He holds up his hands in surrender with a smile, “okay, I’m sorry. I’ll never speak ill of Justin again.”

“You better not,” you warn playfully, “or there could be trouble.”

He reaches for you, putting an arm around your shoulders and leading you into the house. When you’re outside Kates room he gives you a soft kiss, his lips lingering for a moment before he whispers, “love you,” against your lips before going into the room, mama set up for him earlier.

“I love you,” you whisper back, going into the room and closing the door quietly behind you.

“I thought you’d spend the night with him,” Kate says softly from the bed, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

You quickly change into your pajamas before crawling into bed beside Kate and pulling her into your arms, “I’m happy right here.”

Kate feels tense, her shoulders tight, “Tyler wants me to try again,” she whispers into the darkness. “He found my research and wants me to try again to tame a tornado.”

“And what do you want to do?”

“I want their death to mean something,” your shirt dampens from her tears and you rub her back. “I want to try again but I’m-“ her voice cracks, “I’m so scared of getting it wrong again.”

“Only you can decide Katie,” you give her a squeeze, “but I can guarantee one variable that’s different this time.”

“What’s that?”

“Tyler Owens. He is the tornado wrangler, and heaven help anything that tries to take you away from him. Trust him, he won’t let you down.”

Kate contemplates, her shoulders dropping as she melts into you and it only takes a moment for her to breathe to even out. You sit there and wonder how long it’s been since she slept so peacefully, and you tug her closer before falling asleep.

@angryschnauzer @itspdameronthings @mars-interlude @its-breanna-lynn @waitingforsols @combat-sixty-three @phoenixhalliwell @littledragonlady @wunder-blunder @

#Javi Twisters #Javi Rivera x reader #Javi Twisters x reader #female reader #Twisters 2024 #Anthony Ramos #Autumn Writes #Spotify

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nexility-sims · 5 months

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟕 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | AUGUST 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Trish Fitzpatrick wore many hats, but her favorite was “freelance journalist.” Her area of expertise grew directly out of myriad side gigs: what she called portrait pieces of interesting people. Outlets clamored for them—or, they had since she’d buttered up famous, neurotic opera singer-turned-starlet Prudence Boone into revealing she had a glass eye, a secret runaway daughter, and a hair-eating habit. Of course, Prudence was basically a stranger. They had once had a fifteen minute conversation on the deck of a yacht, bonding over the fact that neither actually knew to whom the vessel belonged. Prudence thought Trish’s outlandish suggestions were funny enough to remember her when she called to pitch the piece. It had gone the same way with Renzo. Of course, they had met while fighting over a scarf in a vintage clothing store. Trish considered letting him win to be a debt, one for which she would demand recompense at the ideal time. Opportunities passed, and then August 1991 proved to be the time.

❧ i got the irresistible urge to do renzo backstory, which was meant to be an outtake, but then i was like, "uh, no, this totally works as story proper if i put leonor in it," so here we are ! context and such. given the amount of work, this might be my magnum opus until further notice ... it was also just fun to do :^) checked off the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll boxes ?? where's my prize. in conclusion, i love my white boy of the week or whatever

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

I grew up in a tiny town—Petunia. Petunia? You say it differently. It’s the country coming out, I guess. Not “pee-tyoon-ee-ah,” it’s “puh-toon-yuh.” Petunia. That’s it. So, how was it? Fond memories? In retrospect, maybe. I wanted to get the hell out of there from day one. What I remember is being very unhappy—dispositionally sullen, not just a pouty kid, but fully down and out. Born that way, probably. And your parents? My parents … Life had the upper hand, man. They were good at losing. I didn’t want that life.

My dad professed to be a traveling salesman—What, he wasn’t? I mean, he didn’t know jack shit about vacuums or whatever the fuck. I don’t know. But, he wasn’t around a lot, it sounds like? Gone for weeks at a time. Just me and my mom. How was she? Not really there either. When I got home from school, she’d pop her pills and be gone until morning. She wasn’t avoiding me; she was avoiding life. She did what she had to do in the mornings—you know, I had what I needed, the bare essentials—but she was checked out. You had a lot of unsupervised time, then. Oh, did I. Too much. I mean, I had books to read, and I got into music early—From her? No. My dad’d blow into town and bring pity gifts. Not kid-appropriate shit, now that I think about it. Heavy, gritty stories. A guitar I was too little to use. Flip lighter. But, you know, I was a kid. I wanted to run and play with everyone else, too. Of course.

Here’s the thing: it was hard to be a scrawny kid named Lorencio in Petunia. Shit, I can imagine. What was that like? … Hard, like I said. Well—Details? I got the shit kicked out of me. Regularly. What do they call it—um—“school of hard knocks”? Yeah. I remember, one time, I limped home on a Saturday. Mom was out of it, but she leapt up when she saw all the blood. Cleaned me up. It’s like I’m there now—in that bathroom with the dirty tile, her burning me with peroxide … She didn’t really talk, you know, not in a serious way? But she did then? She said, in Uspanian, “‘Don’t roll over for anyone.’” Interesting. So, that’s the lesson? Part of it. I realized that summer it didn’t matter if you were scrawny, if you talked funny, if you were poor. What mattered was not being a pussy. [Laughs] Oh, yeah? If you want credibility, if you want respect, sometimes you gotta be able to take a beating. Don’t roll over. That’s right.

I think it also helped when the growth spurt hit. You must’ve still been scrawny. [Laughs] String bean. So it goes. Adolescence . Now, you grew up fast, is what I’ve heard. You could say that. My life changed when Marty got out of lock-up—Sorry, what?—for “teen offenders”; he set his grandparents’ car on fire—oh, I see, regular kid shit—Uh huh. We hit it off. He introduced me to other guys, including Jesse. They’d huff gas together. Oh my God. Not whippits? Sure, but less convenient. That’s—No good, yeah. Fun though. Have you—? I’ve tried everything, Patricia.

Jesus! So, Marty and Jesse…? We got on like a house fire. [Groans] They were into petty crime for the thrill of it—Now, Renzo, is arson petty? He did it one fucking time. Everyone overreacted. They got into trouble for fun, and for you it was—? Money. Not a lot. I was too dumb to consider the risks. But, you did other things for money, too? Don’t say it like that. I wasn’t hooking. [Snorts] I worked a lot. I was cutting school to work, getting paid under the table, all of that. Maybe—hear me out—some of it was thrilling for you, too? I won’t tell anyone. [Chuckles] What can I say? Credibility.

I feel like I’m mischaracterizing … I love Marty and Jesse, to this day. Jesse’s daughter is your godchild, right? Yeah. Marty went back to Petunia in … ‘88? Jesse and I had better luck, or maybe we were just more desperate. Either way, my point is that delinquents get a bad rap—With good reason! Sure, okay. Both of them were deeper and more complicated than that. You’re not an outlier. No. We’re a dime a dozen. No one gives them the chances you got. Uh huh. So, we bonded over that—feeling down and out, like I said, but also the fact that we loved music. Marty’s family had money, so they’d bought him a nice bass guitar. But, Jesse’s mind … He’s so fucking creative. He wasn’t a reader, but I could tell him about something I’d been chewing on, and he’d have a song inspired by it within the hour. He has an incredible voice, too. He does.

I guess it’s not surprising that you guys did what you did. There was nothing for us at home, you know? Packing up and heading out west didn’t feel like a risk. And your mom understood that? Better than anyone. I know people judged her—shit, I judge her, too—but I always knew she was trying. That’s sweet. Is it? I mean, I think so … She met my dad at a bus stop three weeks after she arrived in the country and made the mistake of getting off at his stop. That’s it. That was her crime. Well, I’m sure she’s doing better now, huh? She lives in a nicer house in a nicer city, but that doesn’t cure depression, now does it? I suppose not. There was this woman whose lawn I’d cut all the time … A real bitch, but she was extra nice because she felt bad for me. Hated my mother. I think she was just jealous because my dad was her high school sweetheart. Isn’t that just how it goes? Damn foreigner stealing a real catch from her. [Scoffs] Sticky fingers when she invited me inside for lemonade—cigs and quarters from her purse, Valium from the cabinet, that kind of thing. [Laughs] Casual. It was pretty brazen, honestly. Fucking dumb kid.

Alright, so, you come out here with Marty and Jesse to make music, and now you’re a serious actor with a name and a big career ahead of you. How’d that happen? It was completely accidental. While we waited for a record deal, I did odd jobs, like auto work—you know, in a body shop. It was decent. Had you worked on cars before that? So, I got familiar, uh … [Chuckles] We’ve established I was a rascal. We could get under the hood of a parked car and make a few dollars off parts. I can get you in so much trouble, Renzo! [Laughs]

Don’t tell anyone, come on! I was a kid. Have a heart. I guess it paid off. But, alright, body work? What’s the connection? It’s kind of convoluted. When business was slow, the guy I worked for loaned his employees out to another mechanic. This guy, long story short, brought me along to assist him on a movie set. I guess he was a known quantity? Everyone knows the right guy! That’s everyone’s explanation for where they end up. Me, too. Uh huh. I don’t know why they let me do it, but—Somehow it worked out. Yeah, it did. Right place, right time.

You’re in the spot. How did you get into it, though? This is embarrassing as hell but, fuck it, I’ll be honest. Please. Don’t stop now. [Chuckles] I got a shot because I’d been chatting up this girl who, as it turns out, was the director’s kid—or, in fact, she approached me. I had no idea who she was or why she was there. Of course she did! That’s not surprising, is it? I think I was the most disinterested person there. I don’t know. Anyway, we talked a couple times, then—out of the blue—someone asked me if I wanted to hop into a scene, say a line, ten seconds flat. She did that for you? I don’t know what she did. No one mentioned her. Maybe she thought you looked like a movie star. [Snorts] Fuck. I hope not. Did you want to do it? I wanted to make music. I wanted to finish reading my book. I wanted … I mean, I said yeah. Can’t decline that. Makes a good story, right? What happened with her—? Oh, hell. Sorry! Moving on, for now. [Groans]

I got a call several weeks later about an audition. How did that feel? Bizarre. We’d done a demo for a producer once, but this was different. Were you excited? I was terrified. But, I went. Didn’t get that part, although everyone was perfectly nice to me. How disappointing. You always remember your first … But, hey, you have to look at it this way: I didn’t want to be an actor. I thought it was cool, but it felt like … ? Go ahead, give me a good metaphor. Like when you’ve been craving your favorite food, but then someone offers you a helping of something different, new, appetizing. How’s that? Passable. C-plus. [Laughs] Fuck you, Pat.

Okay, so the road didn’t end there. No, it didn’t. I got another call, and that one went well. This was for … Sugar Sweet? That’s the one. Cornball, but I love that movie. Never seen it. What! How is that possible? You were in it. You went to the premiere screening. There are pictures. Saw my first scene, excused myself to go piss, didn’t come back until the applause had started. Wow. Everyone has opinions about that movie these days—very contentious, whether or not Alicia was in the wrong when she left me and stole my lifelong dream. What do you think? Me, Renzo? Good for her. I thought it was kind of bitchy. It’s peculiar how many women say that. I wonder why … ! Billy’s so dreamy. Please, ask me about something else, Pat. So, this romantic comedy is your launching pad. It leads to the television show. The television show blows up immediately. Walk me through what that felt like?

Also terrifying. I really cannot emphasize enough that I didn’t want attention. I wanted money and time to support my music, and acting seemed like a good way to do that. Just didn’t account for the side effects. Like fame? Uh huh. I was a nobody in Sugar Sweet, and the pay was shit, but it felt like a miraculously good deal at the time. What it did is put me in the running for more serious work. I think, even then, sometimes the casting folks were hesitant to take a risk on someone with no experience whatsoever, even if they had—A spark? Talent? Sure. It was unsettling, the idea that I was some kind of “natural,” and I compensated by working really hard. Well, you’ve established yourself as a hard worker. Sure. I guess they saw that—the improvement, in addition to the fact that I had a resume to speak of by then. Or, eh, they saw that you were pretty. Right, of course, you don’t need talent if you have Teen Mag’s favorite cheekbones. [Snickers] I joined a cast with other people who had very little experience, and we bonded over that. I just didn’t expect to be … What, the center of attention? That, yeah.

You know what’s fucking weird? Huh? Signing your name on a picture of your own face that belongs to someone else. That they’re going to take it home and pin it to their fucking wall or frame it on their bedside table. Someone’s kid treating you like their school crush, blushing and shit while they’re asking for you to do it. That does seem like a strange experience. Over and over again. Teenyboppers, goddamn. You were in the magazines for them. I read a couple interviews. No the fuck I was not. I did not do those. No? What they do is take quotes from actual, consented conversations and stitch them together for their own use. It’s legal. That’s fascinating. Maybe I should try that. Less work. [Laughs] Yeah, alright, flush your “exclusive access” privilege right down the toilet.

But, look, I’m not disparaging the fans wholesale. That’d be unfair. And, ouch, ungrateful? Yeah. The initial couple years were fucking insane, but I was with people I liked, and a lot of the fans we actually met were … Normal? Uh huh. Not a hysterical, handsy, screaming blob. You got grabbed? Groped, Pat. Oh boy. We don’t like grabass, I guess. Well, hold on now, just not like that—You keep sidetracking me. What kind of interviewer are you? I’m having fun with my buddy! Sue me. [Chuckles] You got it, baby. What was I saying? The fans? Yeah. The ones we met one-on-one were cool, usually. They had deep thoughts about the show, you know? Ideas about the characters, the plots—filled in holes in the shitty writing. No offense to Jack and Reuben, I hope! Don’t print that, Pat.

If I’m being honest, having to answer their questions made me think deeply about the role. That’s stayed with me. I don’t like being walked up on in public, but sometimes it’d go fine. The first time someone came up to me in the wild, her mother looked so fucking apologetic that I decided, “Cool it, don’t be a jackass.” She wanted to talk about the book I was buying. Same thing would happen to Frank, Perry, Vicky. How about the show itself? That was a three year commitment.

It was alright. In retrospect, I understand that television isn’t for respectable actors, which made the transition hard. Harder to have been on a show for teenagers. But, you made that switch in Uspana. So, did that play into the calculus at all? I lucked out, in the sense that the show was co-produced, and I got to do the dubbing for the Uspanian version. I wasn’t a total unknown, even if they thought my Uspanian was shitty. Is it? Losing an accent is hard, in my defense.

When my contract ended, I hit the road. You didn’t think about staying on? I thought about it with horror, yes. [Laughs] You’d keep shit-talking the whole production if I let you. Maybe. So, in Uspana? It was like exhaling for the first time in a while. I did nothing for a couple months. All that hard work, being a beloved TV star … Throw me a bone, Pat. But, anyway, I didn’t even see my mom’s family again for a few weeks—You knew them, though? Yeah, we’d met, during the press trips. Beach life by yourself. Luxury.

You know, I needed to reconnect with myself. That’s how I felt. I felt like I had been an imposter, then I felt like I had to be someone I wasn’t, and now … You could go a different way. A fork in the road, for your career. Your life, really. Right, yeah. I went to Canarís like any good tourist. I had more money than I’d ever had in my life. I had no plans. Sounds like a dream. It was.

Crucially, I was out of my mind most of the time. Kite high. So fucking high. I swear I almost drowned twice, at which point it was politely suggested that I stop using the pool. Did you politely agree? Fuck no. [Laughs] Troublemaking aside, I ended up taking phone calls, making plans with people—Industry people? Yeah. There were people I knew already, but meeting the ones I really wanted to work with happened kind of organically—parties, premieres for other films, cafes. At the Morningstar Cafe in Canarís? Right, exactly. Same way I ended up finding The Den. Someone at the cafe had worked with Karolina Teague, and she took me there one evening after we all got tossed out of some poor son of a bitch’s house. Sounds rowdy. Can’t blame him. It was after midnight. And? Well, it was a lunch that’d started at eleven in the morning, so. [Chuckles]

So, I have a question. You’re pretty consistent—in terms of behavior. “Behavior?” [Snorts] Yeah, okay, I understand. What was that like, with cameras on you? The photographers in Uspana definitely aren’t less aggressive. That’s part of it. I don’t know if I’d call it an epiphany, but I left Canarís for Nakawe with the understanding that I was going to just do what I wanted to do. Oh boy. Within reason, fuck. Reason. Sure, yes. You didn’t feel like a dumb kid anymore. I mean, I guess I have more fun with the camera guys here. They can get away with more, ergo, so can we.

I distinctly recall you got arrested for—I barely touched that guy or his fucking camera. Did him a favor, if I did. Dogshit quality device. [Chuckles] Not sure he saw it that way, but the charges were dropped. I mean, don’t get me wrong, shouldn’t have reacted that way. I kept thinking about my mom seeing those pictures … The one time I got picked up, she backhanded me in the middle of the station, right in front of the cops. Jesus. In the car, she goes, “If you get caught again, I’m going to rip your ears off.” Empty threat, I guess.

The Den—I want to talk about that. Please, let’s. Your first time there? It was with Karolina, like I said, and there was a local band playing that night. They’d wrapped up their set by the time we arrived and were just … jamming on the stage, taking feedback and requests from the people who were still there. Some kind of funky jazz mash-up. I liked it. How did it come to you? It opened in ‘57 as a bar and, at some point, it turned into more of a music venue open to a certain segment of Nakawe. The guy who owned it gave exposure to a lot of people who went on to really do something with their art, and that’s why it ended up being a somewhat exclusive spot. Celebrities already knew it and brought their friends. Uh huh. I could stroll up, and the cameras weren’t with me because they were already there. He got tired of that, I think—He was an older fella, right? Yeah. But, really, he managed other properties, and The Den wasn’t his passion project the way it’s become for me. So, you had the money and took it off his hands.

What goes on in there? [Laughs] Pat, you’ve been inside. Well, not for me! If I’m going to describe it to people who’ll never go inside, what would I say? I mean, it’s a hangout spot. It’s a performance venue. We had, uh, mimes last month. Truly gifted, those people. [Laughs] Really? I don’t come up with all of the ideas myself, but I only agree to the shit I’m interested in. It’s kind of selfish, but I guess I’m lucky to know a lot of people who’ll toss in five dollars to enjoy it. It’s something. Compelling. I mean it. Thanks. That’s not all, though. I mean, you describe it as a “haven.” It’s very private. Some of your regulars are troubled individuals. Damn, Patricia, just say it. I feel like a cop! “Do you condone drug use in your establishment?” nonsense. But, well … I’m not explaining it. Either you—they, whoever the hell—get it or don’t. Come for the music, come to unwind however you like, doesn’t fucking matter to me as long as you’re coming with an invitation. I like to go in the back room, close the door, let the music and noise seep through. Muffled. You don’t really strike me as a partier, frankly. You never have. I wouldn’t argue with that. I like parties, but I don’t need to be at the center. Some do. That’s fine. This place is for us all.

Maybe it works out because of that, that you’re curating this space but not necessarily always in it? What do you mean? Well, you reopened it and then, if memory serves, immediately went off to do a film. The party kept going. You just like to know it’s happening. Alright, sure. That’s true. Knowing it’s there … Yeah. I like it. I was in that back room, thinking about the script, when I decided to do it, actually. Life felt like it was falling into place. It was a good time to take a leap. “’You are going to be a cowboy?’” “’No, I’m going to be a farmer.’” I had that conversation a thousand times. Reporters, man. Hey! Everyone was so surprised. I think they thought the premise was … I don’t know, that it just wasn’t something I would want to do? Or, worse, that the filmmakers wouldn’t want to work with someone like me? Unflattering assumptions, sounds like. Can’t blame them. I had a lot to prove. Still do.

How was six weeks in Texict? Fucking heaven. I loved it. My mother’s from the northwest so, even when I visited family, it wasn’t anywhere close. No reason to visit until we dropped in to do the film. Every day, I woke up happy to be alive. Happy to be doing this job. Gorgeous. I’m gonna go out on a limb and guess it wasn’t just the location, was it?

No, you’re right. I felt like I was really acting—for the first time, seriously. Maybe the cast helped? I’d worked with established actors before. The leads in Sugar Sweet were—well, you know who they were. I learned a ton from them. But, yeah, I guess Sasha was the first person I’d worked alongside who had me sweating. Oh? I wanted to impress her so fucking badly. I wanted to keep up, you know? So talented. So raw. She rips every line out of her chest with her bare hands. Bloodbath of emotion. The premise was new, too. Not a lighthearted romance this time. No. We were young parents of a ill child—stressed as fuck, trying to make life work, struggling separately to be together. Can’t lie, I ate that shit up. So did the critics. Hell yeah.

Every nomination felt surreal. The recognition was incredible. Validating. Sasha and some of the others swept up. I was just honored to be up there with them, honestly. Okay, well, let’s talk about Sasha. Do we have to? Yes. Indulge me! [Grumbling] I mean, all I can really say at this point is that I was obsessed, and it wasn’t until it was over that I had the clarity of mind to really wonder, hm, “Was I in love with Sasha, my coworker, or was I in love with Sasha playing Lucy, my wife?” That seems like an occupational hazard. I wouldn’t describe it that way. You take sensitive, delusional, beautiful people, pay them to get vulnerable and intimate with each other … It’s special, even if it’s … Not genuine? No, it is that. It’s not real, but it is genuine. How else can you say, “Well, our schedules don’t line up anymore, but I’ll have this scar of our initials forever?” You do not! No, I don’t. The letter S is really hard to cut without fucking up. Not a sober man’s idea. No.

Since I have you on the topic—hey, no, absolutely not—I’m obligated to ask if there’s anyone in your life right now. How’s that? Women’s magazines can snap this up and stitch it together for themselves. This is a public service. Patricia … Yes, Lorencio?

Look, I know you do your research. I do. I’m very good at it, too. What’s that like, princess pus—Pat. Pat, I’m begging you—Are you obsessed? The letter L is easier, I bet. It is. Would you go with another L or an R?

I’m not talking about this—not for you to print, anyway. Well, talk to me as a friend, then? I’m not just professionally nosy. We’re friends? Who else calls me Pat and gets away with it? You haven’t been Trish in a long time, it’s true … [Sighs] Fuck. Someone can be precious, right? Lovable. You can hold them in your hands and think, “This person matters to me. They’re special. I like to be around them; I like to listen to them; I want their affection.” You can really, genuinely cherish someone.

But? Maybe you find their life to be completely fucking repellent. Unbearable. … Damn.

There’s parallels, though, right? I mean, fame is fame, there’s got to be value in relatability, and—There’s an open mic going on downstairs in the hotel bar right this minute. Let’s take a break, Pat, what do you say? Let’s just go watch some of it. I’ll let you print dick measurements and my deepest, darkest secrets if you say yes. [Laughs] Well, if that’s on the table—

#just gonna toss in a cw #cw drugs #long post #ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

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midorisplash · 1 year

Text

POV: Yeonjun Has a Crush on his Best Friend’s Sister.

Pairing: Sub!Yeonjun × Dom!Reader

Summary: Yeonjun, falls off his skateboard and gets scratched up. He goes to his best friend's house for help but instead, you answer.

Warnings: Blood (mentions of it, not a kink.), Degrading, Praise, Slight Nipple play, Humping, Finishing in pants. Penetration.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/n: Ignore mistakes, (not edited) I really like this on girl. I hope you all like it too.<3

“Beomgyu!” Yeonjun whined loud enough you could hear him from outside the front door. “Beomgyu!” He whined out again easy for you to tell now, he is crying. You frowned putting your fork down and walking over to the door unlocking it and opening it watching Yeonjun quickly stumble in almost hitting you. One arm was wrapped around his skateboard, while his backpack hung from his shoulder. Yeonjun face was scrunched in pain as you scanned his body noticing how much blood was on his arms and shirt.

He sniffed and finally looked at who was holding the door thinking it would be Beomgyu, his face dropping and trying not to look in pain when he saw you placing his skateboard down. “W-where’s Beomgyu?” He sniffed with a shaky voice looking down.

Yeonjun is one of your brothers, Beomgyu's best friend, he’s also one of your neighbors. You think he could be a sweet boy but you swear he doesn’t like you. As long as he and Beomgyu have been friends he’s barely spoken a word to you and always looks like he rather not speak to you. You usually just smile and not talk since he does the same but seeing him covered in blood like this makes your heart drop.

You pouted walking to him quickly and closing the door behind you. “He’s Asleep…Did you fall?” You asked. He looked down like he was trying hard to hold his tears after a second looking back up to meet your eyes. He slowly nodded and couldn’t help tears rushing out of his eyes. “It hurts..” He whimpered. You quickly pulled the backpack off his shoulder placing it on a hook before grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen table. “This is why I always tell you and Beomgyu not to skate around when it starts getting dark.” You whispered making him sit at the kitchen table.

Yeonjun whimpered looking down and playing with his fingers hearing you quickly moving. You got a wet towel and grabbed some bandaids you saw in a cabinet and came back placing them on the table and gently grabbing his arm. “You didn’t break anything right?” You whispered moving his arm back and forth. “No.” He spoke. You nodded “Good. Cause I don’t know how to fix that.” You giggled to yourself before getting serious and starting to clean the blood off his arm.

“Tell me what happened. Why did you come here instead of going to your house?” He looked away swallowing starting to feel embarrassed.

Yeonjun hated that he cried in front of you just now. He likes you and wants you to think he’s cool and nonchalant. He thinks you’ll like that. He has a huge crush on you but you’re his best friend's sister, and he’s not sure how Beomgyu will feel about that. And also you’re older than him, so you probably think he’s still childish. For this reason, he knows you too can never be real but that doesn’t stop him from liking you.

He sighs quietly finally mustering up the courage to speak. “There was a rock on the ground I didn’t see. And I hit it and started rolling. I was closer to your house so I came here, and I didn’t want my mom to worry.” He mumbled whipping his tears off his cheek.

You looked up to his face sighing at his glossy eyes bringing a hand to help whip his tears. “I’m sorry that happened.” You spoke pulling your hand away and grabbing a bandage. “Luckily I think it’s just small scratches, just a lot of blood.” She spoke. After a couple of dozen decorated bandaids and a towel covers In blood, you had covered all his scratches. His arms were almost covered in bandaids.

“There, good as new.” You smiled looking at his face finally. He quickly looked away then at his arms. “Thank you..” He whispered. You smiled and then gasped pushing his hair from his temple. It was a small scratch and a small amount of blood but it still worried you. Yeonjun looked at you and could help his cheeks getting red at you staring at his face being so close. “W-What is it?” “You’re bleeding, let me see.” You spoke getting closer to his face and moving his hair out of the way grabbing the towel and gently dabbing the area.

He tried to stay calm but his heart was beating fast his breath was hitching as he breathed he didn’t know what to do but just hold his breath as you whipped the blood away. “It’s a tiny cut it won’t leave a scar.” You spoke quietly grabbing a bandaid and having to back away for a second as you hear Yeonjun release the breath he was holding. You looked at him then back to his cut opening the bandaid. “Did it hurt?” You questioned. He shook his head looking down. You nodded putting the bandaid on the scratch looking down at his face. His plump lips were red from licking his tears away, his nose tip red from all his tears. You were awed by how cute he looked like this. Of course, it was sad he was crying but you had never seen him so vulnerable. “You look so cute.” You blurted out with a giggle poking his nose.

He blinked and looked at you, just then you noticed how red his cheeks were. You awed even more bringing his hair back down over his bandaid. He stayed silent and then finally spoke. “Y-You think?” He whispered “But I was just crying, don’t women not like when men cry?” You rolled your eyes at his words. “Whoever told you that just wants you to not get any woman.” You giggled. “And, I know you were crying and all but I've never seen you look more adorable.” He smiled a little and looked away. “Thank you..”

You nodded. “I’ll go steal you one of Beomgyu's shirts and send you off home for the night. Don’t want you to go home too late.” You spoke patting his shoulder and walking away heading upstairs.

Yeonjun looked at you go then started looking around slowly standing up. “She called me cute!” He giggled walking to the mirror in their walkway and looking at himself fixing his hair and whipping his mouth. “I’ll see you later, your cute too.” He spoke to himself into the mirror then shook his head “You’re more than cute, you’re beautiful.” He whispered. “No, I should have said that earlier. Uh if you think I’m cute now, imagine how cute I’ll be when…I can’t say that.” He giggled covering his mouth. He kept whispering to himself in the mirror about what he would say to you before he left until he heard you clear your throat.

You had come back downstairs and were standing watching and listening to him for a couple of minutes. “I got your shirt. You know you could have just told me I’m cute.” You chuckled walking to him and handing him the shirt. His face was glowing red as he took the shirt. “Yeah…Your right, I just wanted to make sure I sounded cool, ya know.” He mumbled looking away. You giggled and nodded. “I’ve never seen this side of you Yeonjun, laughing and making jokes. I wanna see it more.” She smiled “Do you need help changing your shirt? You know cause your arms and everything.” You spoke.

You asked that cause you wanted to tease him a little bit. You should’ve known he liked you from the way he tried to act around you. He doesn’t act all nonchalant around Beomgyu he acts silly and only switches to that nonchalant way when he sees you. He’s so young you just know someone probably told him girls like guys that act that way so he thought he would try with you.

Yeonjun looked at your eyes his opening wide as he gulped and looked at the shirt. He wanted to say no, not cause he doesn’t want her to touch him but out of nerves but lucky his mouth said the exact opposite. “Yes!.. I-..um you can change my shirt.” He whispered handing you back the shirt. You smiled and took the shirt and his hand leading him to the bathroom right next to you both and turning the light on facing him resting your butt on the counter. You put the clean shirt on the counter and put both your hands on his waist. You rubbed down his waist till you got to the him of his shirt slowly bringing the shirt up and over his head.

His heart was pounding so hard he was scared you would hear but of course that was stupid to think, he was just so nervous. And worst of all getting turned on. It was only worse cause he didn’t want you to see his growing boner and be disgusted by him. Even though honestly he’d be even more turned on with you being disgusted by him.

You tossed his shirt in the laundry basket looking at his chest. “Look at that, do you work out?” You spoke. “Y-yes..sometimes.” He spoke bringing his hands to his side trying to act normal. You gasped with a smile getting closer. “Can I touch?” You smiled devilishly looking him up and down seeing his bulge and staring at it for a moment before looking back up and meeting his gaze. He almost could breathe bringing his hand together and twisting his fingers. “Um.. yes! You can. But t-touch what?” He shuddered. “You’re abs silly what else?” You teased smiling brightly moving your hand and rubbing over his abs awning in amazement. “Wow.” You rubbed up to his pecs immediately going to his nipple lightly grazing it looking at his face for a reaction.

He let out a soft groan and quickly took his lip into his mouth feeling embarrassed at his noise. “S-sorry! I shouldn’t have made that noise. I-I..I..” He stuttered feeling your hand starting to move more quickly over his nipple even giving it a pinch. “Agh! Y/n!” You giggled at his reaction and pulled away. “I didn’t know you’d be so easy to get worked up.” You looked him up and down. “Makes you even more cuter.” You grabbed the clean shirt unfolded it and opened the shirt pulling it over his head.

You decide to act like you didn’t see his probably painful erection even though he has to know you did. He was panting quietly looking at you with lustful eyes. “It's probably time you go it’s getting late. I’ll meet you at the door. Excuse me.” You spoke walking out very close to him so your hips rubbed against his boner. His eyes rolled and looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe what just happened. You just played with his nipple, and he wanted more. He wanted you to tease his nipples while riding him. He wanted you to force him to cum inside of you, he wanted so badly for you to slap him around and pitch his nipples more. He wanted so much! But he was so nervous to even suggest doing anything, and you seemed to only wanna tease him. He snapped out of his daze walked to the front door and saw you holding his backpack and skateboard. “Th-thank you.” He spoke taking it from you and slinging the backpack on his shoulder. “You’re welcome. Hey, don’t ride that thing home, just walk. And I won’t tell Beomgyu how you ate concrete.” You joked opening the door. Yeonjun nodded and smiled a little gripping his skateboard tightly. “Okay, I won’t. Thank you again for patching me up and stuff.” He spoke softly with a smile. You smiled and kissed his cheek holding the door for him. He turned and started walking out before turning back to you. “Oh, and you’re cute too.” He smirked and looked at her before turning back and walking away quickly. You blushed slightly and chuckled and waved him bye. “Thank you.” You closed the door when he got further smiling to yourself.

When Yeonjun made it home, he went straight to his room plopping himself face-first on the bed and laying on his stomach. He touched his cheek and smiled thinking about how you just kissed his cheek and how he wished you had kissed him more and somewhere else. He put his face back on the bed His hips involuntarily humping the mattress as his mind kept racing with more than just the kiss.

He found himself now humping his bed hungrily closing his eyes and imagining you were right there with him. Running your hand through his hair, watching him pathetically trying to cum from dry humping his bed. “Look at that, and you want to fuck me, I bet you’ll barely last humping your bed.” You whispered. His eyes squeezed tight imagining that, his mind was racing so much he imagined if you’d be sweet about it. “Come on, Yeonjun. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on yourself from this, I know it’ll be so cute!”

He whimpered moving his hips faster his hand sliding under his chest to tease his nipple pinching it. “You’re so fucking gross getting off to me like this.” You spoke with a disgusted face. “That feels good doesn’t it pretty baby! Keep going till you cum all over for me.” Yeonjun couldn’t keep a straight thought just wanting to be inside of you. He knows you’d feel so good. He nodded at his thoughts pushing his top half off the bed and grabbing a pillow pulling it under his stomach and hugging it tightly his hips still moving harshly to rub against his bed.

He now imagined he was fucking you, his face nuzzled into your breast with your legs wrapped around him. “Fuck me stupid slut, I know you can do better!” He started shaking feeling like he was really inside of you trying to move his hips at a pace he’d hope you’d like. “Ugh! you’re amazing pretty baby!” “Does It feel good!? I love you!” He whispered and cried out into his pillow. He squeezed the pillow tighter and hated it wasn’t her. “I want you! I want you so bad! You feel so good.” He cried feeling the warmth in his stomach becoming stronger he was getting closer with each thrust against the bed. “Then give me all your cum you pathetic bitch.” “I want you to! Cum in me please!”

“Okay..okay…I’m cumming! I love you y/n! I love you!” He moaned loudly as the warmth in his stomach despised with a snap sending a wave right through his stomach and body cum shooting out and running into his underwear. He pushed his face into the pillow to muffle his moans kicking his feet up and down. “Agh…fuck..oh my gosh.” He whimpered hugging the pillow tightly and slowing his hips down. “Good job Yeonjun! You did so well!” He rested his head on the pillow for a moment letting himself slowly come down to reality.

After a couple of minutes, he sat up fully and looked at the wet spot he had created with a sigh, thinking about how it was such a waste he couldn’t give the cum to you. He looked at the pillow rolling his eye and pushing it away, he probably looked stupid laying here really imagining he was having sex with you when that would never happen.

Yeonjun is one of your brother, Beomgyu best friend, he’s also one of your neighbors. You think he could be a sweet boy but you swear he doesn’t like you. As long as him and Beomgyu have been friends he’s barley spoken a word to you and always looks like he rather not speak to you. You usually just smile and not talk since he does the same but seeing him covered in blood like this makes your heart drop.

You pouted walking to him quickly closing the door behind yourself. “He’s Asleep…Did you fall?” You asked. He looked down like he was trying hard to hold his tears after a second looking back up to meet you eyes. He slowly nodded and couldn’t help tears rushing out his eyes. “It hurts..” He whimpered. You quickly pulled the backpack off his shoulder placing it on a hook before grabbing his hand and leading him to the kitchen table. “This is why I always tell you and Beomgyu not to skate around when it starts getting dark.” You whispered making him sit at the kitchen table.

Yeonjun whimpered looking down and playing with his fingers hearing you quickly moving. You got a wet towel and grabbed some bandaids you saw in a drawers and came back placing them on the table and gently grabbing his arm. “You didn’t break anything right?” You whispered moving his arm back and forth. “No.” He spoke . You nodded “Good. Cause I don’t know how to fix that.” You giggled to yourself before getting serious and starting to clean the blood off his arm.

“Tell me what happened? Why did you come here instead of going to your house.” He looked away swallowing starting to feel embarrassed.

Yeonjun hated that he cried infront of you just now. He likes you and wants you to think he’s cool and nonchalant. He thinks you’ll like that. He has a huge crush on you but you’re his best friend sister, and he’s not sure how Beomgyu will feel about that. And also you’re older then him, so you probably think he’s still childish. For this reason he knows you too can never be real but that doesn’t stop him from liking you.

You looked up to his face sighing at his glossy eyes bringing a hand to help whip his tears. “I’m sorry that happened.” You spoke pulling your hand away and grabbing a bandage. “Luckily I think it’s just small scratches, just a lot of blood.” She spoke. After a couple dozen decorated bandaids and a towel covers In blood you had coverd all his scratches. His arms almost covered in bandaids.

“There, good as new.” You smiled looking at his face finally. He quickly looked away then at his arms. “Thank you..” He whispered. You smiled and then gasped pushing his hair from his temple. It was a small scratch and a small amount of blood but it stil worried you. Yeonjun looked at you and could help his cheeks getting red at you staring at his face being so close. “W-What is it?” “You’re bleeding, let me see.” You spoke getting closer to his face and moving his hair out the way grabbing the towel and gently dabbing the area.

He tried to stay calm but his heart was beating fast his breath was hitching as he breathed he didn’t know what to do but just hold his breath as you whipped the blood away. “It’s a tiny cut it won’t leave a scar.” You spoke quietly grabbing a bandaid having to back away for second as you hear Yeonjun release the breath he was holding. You looked at him then back to his cut opening the bandaid. “Did it hurt?” You questioned. He shook his head looking down. You nodded putting the bandaid on the scratch looking down at his face. His plump lips red from licking his tears away, his nose tip red from all his tears. You awed in how cute he looked like this. Of course it sad he was crying but you never seen him so vulnerable. “You look so cute.” You blurted out with a giggle poking his nose.

He blinked and looked at you, just then you noticed how red his cheeks where. You awed even more bring his hair back down over his bandaid. He stayed silent then finally spoke. “Y-You think?” He whispered “But I was just crying, don’t women not like when men cry?” You rolled your eyes at his words. “Whoever told you that just wants you to not get any woman.” You giggled. “And, I know your where crying and all but I never seen you look more adorable.” He smiled alittle looked away. “Thank you..”

You nodded. “I’ll got steal you one of Beomgyu shirts and send you off home for the night. Don’t want you to go home too late.” You spoke patting his shoulder and walking away heading upstairs.

Yeonjun looked at you go then started looking around slowly standing up. “She called me cute!” He giggled walking to the mirror in their walk way and looking at himself fixing his hair and whipped his mouth. “I’ll see you later, your cute too.” He spoke to himself into the mirror then shook his head “You’re more then cute, you’re beautiful.” He whispered. “No, I should have said that earlier. Uh if you think I’m cute now, imagine how cute I’ll when…I can’t say that.” He giggled covering his mouth. He kept whispering to himself in the mirror about what he would say to you before he left until he heard you clear your throat.

You had came back down stairs and where standing watching and listening to him for a couple minutes. “I got your shirt. You know you could have just told me I’m cute.” You chuckled walking to him and handing him the shirt. His face was glowing red as he took the shirt. “Yeah..Your right, I just wanted to make sure I sounded cool, ya know.” He mumbled looking away. You giggled and nodded. “I’ve never seen this side of you Yeonjun, laughing and making jokes. I wanna see it more.” She smiled “Do you need help changing your shirt? You know cause your arms and everything.” You spoke.

You asked that cause you wanted to tease him alittle bit. You should’ve know he liked you from the way he tried to acts around you. He doesn’t act all nonchalant around Beomgyu he acts like a silly guy, and only switches that way when he see a you. He’s so young you just know someone probably told him girls like guys that act that way.

Yeonjun looked at eyes opened wide as he gulped and looked at the shirt. He wanted to say no, not cause he doesn’t want her to touch him but out of nerves but lucky his mouth said the exact opposite. “Yes!.. I-..um you can change my shirt.” He whispered handing you back the shirt. You smiled and took the shirt and his hand leading him to the bathroom right next to you both and turning the light on facing him resting your butt in the counter. You put the clean shirt on the counter and put both your hands on his waist. Your rubbed down his waist till you got to the hime of his shirt slowly bringing the shirt up and over his head.

His heart was pounding so hard he was scared you would hear but of course that was stupid to think, he was just so nervous. And worst off all getting turned on. It was only worse cause he didn’t want you to see his growing boner and be disgusted by him. Even though honestly he’d be even more turned on with you being disgusted by him.

You tossed his shirt in the laundry basket looking at his chest. “Look at that, do you work out?” You spoke. “Y-yes..sometimes.” He spoke bring his hands to his side trying to act normal. You gasped with a smile getting closer. “Can I touch?” You smiled devilish looking him up and down seeing his bulge and staring at it for a moment before looking back up meeting his gaze. He almost could breath bring his hand together and twisting his fingers. “Um..y-es! You can. But t-touch what?” He shuddered. “You’re abs silly what else?” You teased smiling brightly moving your hand and rubbing over his abs awning in amazement. “Wow.” You rubbed up to his pecs immediately going to his nipple lightly grazing it looking at his face for a reaction.

He let out a soft groan and quickly took his lip into his mouth feeling embarrassed at his noise. “S-sorry! I shouldn’t have made that noise. I-I..I..” He stuttered feeling you hands starting to move more quickly over his nipple even giving it a pinch. “Agh! Y/n!” You giggled at his reaction and pulled away. “I didn’t know you’d be so easy to get worked up.” You looked him up and down. “Makes you even more cuter.” You grabbed the clean shirt unfolding it and opened the shirt pulling it over his head.

You decide to act like you didn’t see his probably painful erection even though he has to know you did. He was panting quietly looking at your with lustful eyes. “Its probably time you go it’s getting late. I’ll meet you at the door. Excuse me.” You spoke walking out very closely to him so your hips rubbed against his boner. His eyes rolled and looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t believe that just happened. You really just played with his nipple, and he wanted more. He wanted you to tease his nipples while riding him. He wanted you to force him to cum inside of you, he wanted so badly for you to slap him around and pitch his nipples more. He wanted so much! But he was so nervous to even suggest doing anything, and you seemed to only wanna tease him. He snapped out his daze walking to the front door seeing you holding his backpack and skateboard. “Th-thank you.” He spoke taking it from you slinging the backpack on his shoulder. “You’re welcome. Hey, don’t ride that thing home, just walk. And I won’t tell beomgyu how you ate concrete.” You joked opening the door. Yeonjun nodded and smiled alittle gripping his skateboard tightly. “Okay I won’t. Thank you again for patching me up and stuff.” He spoke softly with a smile. You smiled and kissed his cheek holding the door for him. He turned and started walking out before turning back to you. “Oh and you’re cute too.”he smirked and looked at before turning back and walking away quickly. You blushed slightly and chuckled and waving him bye. “Thank you.” You closed the door when he got further smiling to yourself.

When Yeonjun made it home, he went straight to his room plopping himself face first on the bed laying on his stomach. He touched his cheek and smiled thinking about how you just kissed his cheek and how he wished you had kissed him more and somewhere else. He put his face back on the bed His hips involuntarily humping the mattress as his mind kept race with more then just the kiss.

He found himself now humping his bed hungrily closing his eyes and imagining you where right there with him. Running your hand through his hair, watching him pathetically trying to cum from dry humping his bed. “Look at that, and you want to fuck me, I bet you’ll barely last humping your bed.” You whispered. His eyes squeezed tight imagining that, his mind was racing so much he imagined if you’d be sweet about it. “Come on, Yeonjun. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on yourself from this, I know it’ll be so cute!”

He now imagined he was fucking you, his face nuzzled into your breast with your legs wrapped around him. “Fuck me stupid slut, I know you can do better!” He started shaking feeling like he was really inside of you trying to move his hips at a pace he’d hope you’d like. “Ugh! you’re amazing pretty baby!” “Does It feel good!? I love you!” He whispered cried out into his pillow. He squeezed the pillow tighter and hated it wasn’t really her. “I want you! I want you so bad! You feel so good.” He cried feeling the warmth in his stomach becoming stronger he was getting closer with each thrust against the bed. “Then give me all your cum you pathetic bitch.” “I want you to! Cum in me please!”

“Okay..okay…I’m cumming! I love you y/n! I love you!” He moaned loudly as the warmth in his stomach despising with a snap sending a wave right through his stomach and body cum shooting out and running into his underwear. He pushed his face into he pillow to muffle his moans kicking his feet up and down. “Agh…fuck..oh my gosh.” He whimpered hugging the pillow tightly slowing his hips down. “Good job Yeonjun! You did so good!” He rested his head on the pillow a moment letting himself slowly come down to reality.

After a couple minutes he sat up fully and looked at the wet spot he had created with a sigh, thinking about how it was such a waste he couldn’t give the cum to you. He looked at the pillow rolling his eye and pushing it away, he probably looked stupid laying here really imagining he was having sex with you when that would never happen.

#dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!yeonjun #sub!txt #Yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #txt yeonjun x reader #txt yeonjun smut #txt yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fanfic #txt fanfic #dom!yeonjun

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elysianymph · 1 year

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🔥 anything about sirius because i am being a little hater towards some characterisations too

i've already talked your ears off about this on discord but i'm happy to talk to about it again bc i fucking HATE new sirius black with a burning passion. i hate him as much as i love my sirius black that marauderstok can pry from my cold dead hands bc i'm not letting him go. i don't know when it happened and why but marauders fans are particularly persistent on taking away any interesting traits sirius had and leaving behind a whimpering pathetic twink that cries when someone looks at him the wrong way. sirius has been scrubbed clean of any morally grey traits he might've had (he's not allowed to care for his family (unless it's regulus) or long for them bc they are bad, he's not allowed to have any prejudices even though he was literally raised with pureblood mentality and taught he was superior to everyone else from the day he was born, he's not allowed to be an asshole bc he's not like his family guys!! and when he is an asshole it's always used to victimize the character he's being an asshole to and sirius is painted as the villain with mommy issues that can only be fixed by getting dicked down apparently)

i cannot stress this enough: LET THIS MAN BE A COMPLEX CHARACTER!! and no, giving him mental illnesses that miraculously disappear when he gets together with remus and making him attempt to kill himself post prank because he feels bad is NOT making him complex! you're just weird. you're just romanticizing mental illnesses and i can't believe you don't see anything wrong with it. giving him bipolar to justify his actions is?? not??? representation??? it's offensive to people who actually have to deal with these issues in their day to day lives and yet here you are using something that will impact their life forever as a plot device for your uwu sadboy mlm fanfic.

and that's what new sirius boils down to. he's a plot device, an accessory to everyone else's story that's never given much depth other than "oh his mom used the cruciatus on him and now he's traumatized". no hate to jegulus but hate to specific jegulus fics that turn sirius into an overdramatic caricature of his former self for the sake of drama and angst.

also, some of these wolfstar shippers... wtf are you guys on?? idk when and why (that's a lie i do but i'm not gonna say it) remus became sirius black in a werewolf costume but here we are. oh sirius was cool and effortlessly smart and handsome and girls wanted him? well guess what? snatches all of those character traits and throws them onto remus they're his character traits now. ignore how it doesn't make any sense for the werewolf child who was isolated from the rest of the world to be a smooth talking alpha casanova who plays basketball actually. while we're at it, ignore how unrealistic it is for a boy who was raised in a family that believed they were superior to everyone else based on blood status, who was raised to be the perfect heir and checked off all the traits needed to be one to be insecure?? and unsure of himself?? and stupid??? and a loser??? i don't understand what the point of flipping the wolfstar dynamic was when you're left with a shallow copy of the original but ok. you do you ig.

to summarize, my sirius is cool and effortlessly smart and egotistical and a complete asshole who thinks he's the best thing ever. is it an act to cover up how damaged he thinks he is because of his family? possibly. but i also fully believe sirius thought he was a god amongst men and everyone should be glad to be in his presence. he talked down to other people because he considered himself smarter, he rolled his eyes when students asked stupid questions and made fun of them when they got an answer wrong. he's a teenage boy let him be a dick with no excuses.

(also i find it funny when people write about sirius getting into a fight with james or remus and crying because they said something mean. as if sirius wouldn't throw hands the moment someone started criticizing him. he's toxic and that's what makes him interesting. that's his purpose! characters exist to make stories interesting, to start drama, not to be your moral guide on how to act. stories become so much more fun once you let go of the need to make every character a good person. also liking a character doesn't equal liking them as a person. i love sirius but i would hate his guts irl)

#i feel like i can never fully write what i want to say and i hate it #wish i could take you guys on a tour of my brain. it's crazy up in here #thank you for letting me talk zandra it's almost like you knew what was bothering me znjzjzj #it's really not that deep (i say after writing an entire post about it)#(it's not i just like to talk to myself and hope someone will listen bc i am very very passionate can you tell?)#sirius black #mwpp #marauders #marauders era #nymph answers #hating hours 🔥#just to be safe #tw mental illness #tw sui attempt

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simpinberry · 2 years

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omg babe i love your bella ramsey hcs, can you write hcs of bella ramsey comforting upset or insecure reader 💘

!!!!hehehehhe guys i’m so excited i got my first ask yayayayy!! also yes ofc i can <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>

im gonna do 3 diff scenarios that my brain came with up :>

✧ you could not get yourself to like yourself today. it was just one of those days where you need a little bit of extra reassurance :,) exiting your room and marching over to your lovely s/o sitting on the couch, placing yourself completely on top of her. “oh-okay, this is new, oww babe my glasses” you’d shush her and snuggle closer into him. “do u still love me?” istg the loudest silence broke over yall. bellas annoying and immediate reaction would be just super sarcastically offended. once she realises you’re serious, she’d be excited that this was her moment. they’d go on for a good thirty minutes, talking about how beautiful they find you. placing a kiss on his favorite features of yours, telling you how you belong in a fairytale book cuz he sometimes questions how you’re even real. she’d tell you in detail how down bad she was (and still is) when he first met you. would really get into explaining how much he admires you, respects how talented you are, loves all of your quirks, adores your lil annoying habits. she’d finish saying, “i’m so lucky to be able to exist at the same time as you and even luckier to get the honour to love you” and then BOOM YOU GET ALLLL SHYY AND GIGGLY “thank u i needed that :,)” “can we make out now or?”

✧ one night, she’d come home to find you attempting to make dinner whilst literally sobbing. she’d immediately be concerned noticing that you’re actually bawling and not cutting any onions. “sweets? what’s the matter?” she’d immediately offer you a hug that you sink into. you explain that you were frustrated because you really wanted to make her favorite meal and everything that could’ve gone wrong did. she’d chuckle slightly at you and cup your face with her hands, making you face her. she’d tell you you’re absolutely adorable and that she really appreciates the effort. she’d pat your head and run her fingers through your hair telling you that it’s okay to fail sometimes and how you shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself. she’d tell you to go take a hot shower/wash your face and they’d clean up the whole kitchen :,(( she would order some food from your favorite close by restaurant tooo. you guys would spend the rest of the night curled up together on the couch watching your comfort movie :>

✧ bella was on her way over to your apartment and he was late :( you had just failed one of your important uni assignments and you were sat on ur bed, crushed. to put it simply you were disappointed in yourself because you know you didn’t put enough into it and that’s why u got 33%. really all you wanted was your bella, her comforting smell and contagious giggle. tears filled up your eyes thinking about how mad your dad was gonna be and oh god, your mom was gonna say all that shit and go on her little rant and ugh :((( “what’s up loser, i bring choc brownies” bella happily bursting through the door with her mocking american accent. you faced away from her, trying to wipe your face. noting your unusual silence they scoot over to you, reaching out and taking your wrist in his hand. you finally face her with blood shot eyes and a runny nose :( her face softens and she engulfs you in a tight hug, bring you onto her lap. you let go and sob into her chest, feeling a little relieved. you guys rock back and forth for a bit until bella speaks up, “you wanna tell me what happened?”. so you do <3 you tell him everything, how you highkey feel like a failure, your parents and all the stress. you finish speaking with a shaky deep breath. they’d start by giving you soft kisses all over your face, dancing from your forehead to your eyes onto both cheeks and then pecking your nose. she’d finish off by giving you a long kiss on the lips, “i’m here and i’m proud of you, i understand your disappointment my love. your worth is not reflected in that test. i love you very much”. before you start crying again he’d pull out the bag of brownies offering you one. he always knew how to make you laugh even in situations like this. “i hate to see you cry my love, m sorry for being late hope the brownies make up for it”

#bella ramsey #bella ramsey fluff #bella ramsey x reader #ellie the last of us #wlw #lgbt #gay panic #bella ramsey comfort #fluff #bella ramsey head cannon #bella ramsey gf #nonbinary

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incorrectprodigalsonquotes · 5 months

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What Could've Been For Prodigal Son Season 3

Okay, so I already made this post by reblogging to one of my other posts but I thought I'd make an official post for it so I can make more for the "other future seasons" lol:

Version 1:

Martin dies and things happen more or less the way they do in my fic "Carved in the Cradle" (yes, this is a shameless plug lol)

Version 2:

Martin is in a coma for most of the season.

Malcolm goes on a spiral and locks himself away from the world for months.

Dani and Gil, maybe with Jessica, go to have a real talk with him and Malcolm just looks disheveled. Not like he's been attacked, but he's just numb and self-loathing.

Dani is the one to ultimately bring him back by just saying the specific phrase, "Defending yourself against a serial killer doesn't make you a bad person" because she separates the fact that it was his father and focuses on the fact that father or not, Martin Whitly is a serial killer who tried to kill Malcolm.

Malcolm returns to work, and we get a couple of normal case episodes, maybe some focused on the rest of the team like Edrisa and her firefighter guy, JT struggling with being a tired new dad, maybe an episode about fathers and daughters and we get a flashback episode about the day Dani’s father died (I'm convinced it was an unexpected death), and of course, a Jackie episode.

All the while, Martin is in a coma but is completely in Malcolm’s head, like in 2x09.

We definitely get a Christmas episode this season, we get Brightwell moments until they have a cheesy kiss under the mistletoe moment and that's when they unofficially get together.

I say unofficially because they don't talk about how it changes things between them until the episode that would come after.

Malcolm also comes clean to her about what happened to Endicott. At first Dani is rightfully upset about being lied to but tells him to continue with the rest of the story because she knows it's been eating away at him. She gets legitimately angry when she finds out about Ainsley’s stunt with the pig's blood because messing with someone in that way is never okay, especially when that someone was just trying to do what they could in the moment. Malcolm tells Dani that he understands if she doesn't want to be with him now, but he felt wrong starting anything with her without her knowing everything.

And of course, Dani says that she still wants to be with him, to try this out between the two of them because all she's ever really wanted from him that he wasn't already giving was full honesty. She's still a little miffed at him for lying but she does understand why he did it, doesn't condone, but understands.

There would be revelations that call back to Season 1 and how perhaps Jessica, assuming that Martin was having an affair, wasn't completely off base.

An episode with Edrisa’s parents involved in a case or having useful info about their victim, but we also learn how she became who she is.

We have a theater episode and find out JT's mom is actually a successful Broadway actress and she's even more bombastic than Jessica. It makes Malcolm more confused when JT says that Malcolm’s mom has a good calm energy but then he meets JT's mom and understands.

A beauty pagent case episode for sure, and Dani and Malcolm both go undercover. They've been keeping their relationship under wraps (maybe only Gil knows because if they didn't tell him, he'd figure it out). There are a lot of Brightwell heavy moments, and Malcolm is reminded of his dream he had a year prior. Both Dani and Malcolm experience jealousy for the first time. It was different when they were just friends because neither felt like they had reason to be jealous but now that they're taking things slow, neither like the idea of someone else trying to get romantically involved with them.

Where is Ainsley in all this, you might ask?

She's taken up a six month job overseas to just get away from it all. She doesn't want to come to terms with the fact that Martin tried to kill Malcolm, she's mad at Malcolm for stabbing their father (again), and she's mad at Jessica because no matter how much she loves her mom, she always has beef with Jessica.

When she gets back after the New Year, she still will not talk to Malcolm and Dani can see that it hurts him.

Ainsley tries to get between Malcolm and Dani because how dare he even try to be happy when their father is still in a coma. It doesn't work, of course. This isn't the end of it.

If you were wondering about Gil and Jessica, no worries, they've been smooth sailings the whole time, even with the Jackie episode. It's revealed that Jessica never disliked Jackie but the reason she didn't go to her funeral was because she didn't want to see them put her friend and her son's second mother (the only one who could get him to actually eat anything when he refused to) in the ground, it was selfish but it hurt too much. She also stayed away from Gil because she had feelings for him and out of respect for both him and Jackie, she didn't want to seem like she was going after him immediately after Jackie passed but then the weeks turned into months and the months turned into years.

Gil and Jessica have a really healthy relationship now and that's what matters.

The season ends with an episode of a case of a young woman (can't decide if her name should be Lorelai or Katherine) who was almost murdered. She was raised by a single mother and she's also recently married, having married someone in the Whitlys rich circle of society. She's a bit of a social outcast because of her past (or her mother’s past) and she never knew her father, she doesn't even know his name.

They catch her attacker but not before they try killing her again but she does land in hospital. She's in need of a blood transfusion and Malcom happens to be the same blood type so he offers to help.

They find out a few important things.

The girl was born in either late 1999 or early in the early 2000 (I haven't decided yet lol), and she and Malcolm happen to share more than a bloodtype, they share DNA. The reason she never knew her father was because her mother never wanted her to know that dear old dad was arrested in 1999... for killing 23 people.

The season ends with Martin's eyes shooting open and man, he looks pissed!

#prodigal son #malcolm bright #dani powell #gil arroyo #jessica whitly #edrisa tanaka #jt tarmel #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #brightwell #gilica #gillica #prodigal son season 3 #headcanon

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jasntodds · 2 years

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Caving In [7]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 16,820 (I know)

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of almost being murdered, blood, violence, fluff, the chapter is “if it’s too much to carry” because of the song by the same name by Jansen, The wldlfe, Jason is soft for 1 person and it’s the reader, Dick blames Jason for everything, mentions of being held captive, mentions of abuse (nothing in detail), this ends up being the softest thing I’ve ever written so

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: This is my favorite chapter!!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this since I wrote it so I hope you guys like it lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Over the next month, Gar and you continue to get closer. After the night you spent in Gar’s room, you both felt a bit closer. It was the best night's sleep you had gotten since your mom died. You didn’t even have a nightmare. You just slept the whole night perfectly comfortable against Gar. And Gar woke up with a lopsided grin that makes your stomach swirl. Since then though, you sleeping in his room has only happened one other time because you both fell asleep watching a movie. Neither of you really want to make it a routine too soon. You’re just friends and going through the motions of everything together.

But you’ve gotten to know each other through just hanging out. Gar has shown you almost all his favorite video games and you’ve made a good dent in movies Gar dreams as classics that you haven’t seen. You talked more about your hobbies, Gar finding out you prefer to rollerblade places rather a bike or walking and you found out Gar prefers a skateboard. It made you smile because it does fit him.

You talked more about your past lives, focusing more on happy moments like when you attended your first concert with your best friend. You beamed so wide, voice booming from the walls as you told Gar about the whole night. A storm hitting and the entire city losing power besides that arena, you getting to stand third row, the energy of place you explained as the closest to home you could get without being home. And Gar talked about his dad teaching him to ride a skateboard, how he fell several times and had his trucks so tight he couldn’t turn for over a month. He smiled and laughed the whole time, retelling the story of his mom being stressed cleaning his cut-up knees and hands. You spent hours just talking one night until Jason banged on your wall telling you to shut up. It only made you both laugh.

You and Jason have also been getting closer. You started training and the first week was pretty boring in comparison to what Jason had you do. But after a week and a half, Dick deemed you healed enough to train with the others. You still didn’t think it was enough. Two training sessions a day against two people who have already been training for 2 months and Jason who’s been training for over a year. You need to catch up so, you and Jason do an extra session late at night. Sometimes Gar even joins you and those are your favorites because it’s just the three of you. The three of you together have gotten close. Jason even tags along for some movie nights with just you and Gar, along with the movie nights with Rachel. Rachel doesn’t join you for the training though, she really does not like Jason.

Jason is still more closed off than Gar is but you tell him stuff and that gets him to talk a bit to you. Your conversations are either more banter-filled or a bit heavy. You both can talk about your trauma with each other in forms of a joke until one of you cracks and asks something a bit more serious. It’s one of the things you both kind of appreciate, the other knowing when the conversation should turn into something more productive without you having to get all dark and deep. And that’s something nice with having someone who’s gone through something similar with parental figures, it’s easier to talk about. But, you do talk about your interests.

You find out Jason hasn’t seen too many movies, mostly horror and comedies because that’s what he watched with his uncle. Jason is permanently invited to your and Gar's movie nights. And you find out he did the graffiti on his wall. Jason offers to add some to your wall as a joke but you jumps at it. And you tell him you tried before but could never grasp the whole spray paint thing.

Now, it’s your turn to pick a movie for group movie night and you pick Zombieland, a movie you declare as a classic and a must-watch. Jason and Rachel haven’t seen it but of course, Gar has and he backs your opinion of the movie. A classic horror comedy, a must.

“That’s the one with Emma Stone, right?” Jason asks as he plops down on the couch beside you, Gar following right behind him with two bowls of popcorn for the group to share.

“And Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg.” Gar states, taking his seat on the other side of you, sitting between you and Rachel.

“Who the hell is that?”

“The Social Network?” You question Jason and he just shakes his head. “You have really only seen like horror, huh?”

“It’s what my uncle watched.” Jason scoffs in defense.

“The Social Network is iconic.” Rachel states, stealing popcorn from one of the bowls.

“We’ll have to watch it. He plays Mark Zuckerberg.” You explain as you turn the TV on, ready to get the movie going but you’re sucked into a news report.

The other three continue the conversation about the Social Network and why Jason needs to see it. But, you’re so wrapped up in the news report, their voices are completely drowned out. Your breathing hitches and you instinctively hit the closed captains, making sure you’re hearing correctly and actually understand what they’re saying.

“What the fuck.” You mutter, seeing Jerry’s picture on the screen.

Your words grab the other three’s attention, all of them watching the news report. Jerry’s picture makes him look like not such a horrible guy. He’s got a big, warm, toothy smile. He looks like you’re average jo and it sends your blood into a rapid boil. They’re calling him an upstanding civilian. You shake your head letting out a dry, cold laugh. Jerry had supposedly saved a boy from a train, yanking him to safety and now the news says he’s such a great citizen. A real great guy who saved a kid, completely unaware of the horrors that took place in his very basement. Then they have the audacity to talk about how he tries to help kids all the time. It’s his true passion. He works with troubled youth at one of the youth centers in the city and wants kids to live up to their true potential. He explains, right to the camera with a big grin like he’s not a complete monster, that some kids need help to reach that. Not a punishment or to be looked down upon, just encouragement, to know they’re good enough and worth the effort. You nearly take your drink from the table and chuck it at the TV.

“What. The. Ever-living-FUCK.” You say, this time your voice is louder and filled with rage and shock. “What the fuck.” You’re almost shaking as you watch.

“Maybe we should shut this off.” Gar suggests, gently taking the remote from your hand before you start melting it.

“He’s such fucking liar and they’re all just eating it up!” You wave your hand at the TV in disbelief.

"The media loves a fake hero." Jason scoffs, sitting back in his seat with the shake of his head. It turns his stomach. Of all things for you to catch on the news, it's your captor being celebrated.

"I get permanently fucking traumatized and he gets a fucking medal." Tears sting the back of your eyes as anger courses through your veins. It feels like Jerry is spitting on the grave he dug for you.

"That's not right." Gar states, unsure of what to even say right now.

How is anyone supposed to comfort someone who's watching their abuser and kidnapper get recognition for being a good person? After they left them for dead, no less? Gar is pretty sure there are no words or actions that could possibly make you feel better or offer you any type of comfort. The most he can do right now is agree with you.

"Just turn on the fucking movie." You scoff, shaking your head as you match Jason's position.

Gar does as he's told and loads the movie, air in the room stiff. Gar wonders why Dick hasn't done anything. Maybe he thinks the four of you aren't ready to have a mission or maybe he thinks you’re too close to it, which you are, but surely something should have been done about him. It's more than it's you and they all know you and like you, it's that he almost killed you. Gar doesn't really understand how Dick didn't at least put on the Robin suit one last time and take care of him himself.

Jason glances to you and he wants to help. The guy should be dead for what he did and they still don't know if you were the only one he's done it to. He moved from Gotham, who's to say the reason he moved was because GCPD was actually catching onto something for once? You might not be the only one or the last one and this guy is just out there, claiming a sense of glory for making sure a kid didn't get killed by a train. That doesn't erase what he did or make some type of clean slate. He's a monster and someone should do something about the fucker.

But, none of them bring it up, they let you sit with it while the movie plays, almost hoping maybe it'll distract you. It is your choice and you raved about how it's one of your favorites. And it does help a little bit because Gar talks about how much he likes the typography animations of the film and Jason finds Columbus hilarious and can't believe he's survived the apocalypse so far. Rachel's favorite is, of course, Wichita. The three of them talking through the movie do lighten your mood enough to laugh when Tallahassee is so determined to get a fucking twinkie.

As the rest of the movie plays on, you shelve your anger about Jerry. You aren't going to let him ruin a movie night watching one of your favorite movies with people you actually like. So, you shelve it and figure you can deal with the anger later when you’re alone. You put on a happy face and joke with everyone else about the movie.

After the movie, you don't stay to talk like you normally do, a routine more that you, Gar, and Jason have developed since Rachel is normally pretty tired after the movie. Instead, you head to your room and lock yourself inside. The movie ended and the floodgates of fury opened. You can hear the broadcast echoing n the back of your head, seeing Jerry's face every time you blink. You can't let him live like that, thinking he got away with it. He can't just get away with what he did to you. With the public seeing him in such a good eye, he might get another foster kid. He'll say you ran away and foster kids do have a habit of doing that and then they'll probably give him another one. Another kid to torture and probably kill. You can't let that happen. So, you’re going to hatch a plan. But before you can get the plan worked out, a knock on your door pull your attention. You pause for just a second before choosing to ignore the knock.

"Y/n? It's Gar." Gar says through the door, worry laced in his words.

"Go away, please." You say, feeling bad for telling him to go away but not being in the mood to talk about anything. You don't want anyone to talk you out of this and Gar has the ability to do that.

"Please, let me in." Gar says through the door, his voice is a quiet plea and you ignore him again. He just wants to make sure you’re okay and you know that but you'll be fine after tonight. "Y/n?" There's genuine concern in his voice this time and you can't leave him out there any longer.

You come to the door, opening it slowly. "I just want to be alone, Gar."

"Please talk to me." Gar keeps his stance outside the door. "I'm worried about you."

Worried.

You let out a breath, hanging your head before letting him in. You shut the door behind him while Gar looks around your room. It's really coming along now. Framed movie posters line every wall and two pairs of shoes sit on the foot of your bed. A few vinyls are sitting on a desk next to a black turn table.

"That newscast is messed up." Gar turns to face you, brows wrinkling together.

"Yeah, little do they know, right?" You scoff, feeling the anger bubble in your stomach.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Gar asks. "It's okay if you're not."

"I'm just...upset." You admit. "Just sucked, ya know? But I really don't want to talk about it."

Gar's brows are knitted together, the concern is almost radiating off of him. "Maybe you should. I'm worried about you." He says with honesty.

Your jaw clenches as you shake your head. "I'm not gonna do anything or go off the deep end, okay? I'm fine." You lie right through your teeth and you can feel the guilt coating your stomach like thick charcoal.

Gar huffs, getting frustrated because he knows you better than that now. You’re not okay because you always let him in your room. Always. "I don't believe you."

"Well, that sounds like a you problem." You quip so quickly, you didn't even think about talking to Gar and now you feel even worse about it. "Gar--"

"No, no it's fine." Gar scoffs. "My problem for caring, right?" He shrugs, a look of defeat-covered sadness fills his face.

"I didn't..." You pause. This is one of the reasons you didn't want him in here. You know how you get when you’re this kind of upset and that's mean. "I didn't mean it....like that. I just..." You let out a sigh of defeat. "Thank you for caring about me and trying to protect me but this isn't your problem and I am not gonna put that on you."

"You can." Gar says as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

"I know." You nod, taking a step towards him. "I don't want to, though." Your eyes scan over his face. You’re so scared of scarring him and ruining him. There's only so much one person can take and Gar has already been through so much and seen too much. It's not your job to bring him down the spiral with you. "I'm sorry, Gar."

Gar is really good at reading people. He's spent so much time alone or in silence around other people that reading them has become a second nature thing for him. He can just do it without even thinking about it and he's normally right. The way you’re talking to him, the way you’re dodging his eyes, the way you were faking a smile during a movie that's supposed to be your favorite, there is something serious going through your head. Gar has to think it's more than just flashbacks because you would tell him about it. You walk the tower together, every single night to make sure Jerry isn't around so you can sleep. You’ve popped into his room twice now due to a nightmare. Something is going on and he's scared for you.

"I just want you to tell me what's going on." Gar almost pleads with her.

"I just want to be alone." Your voice is defeated, almost begging him to understand. "Can we just talk tomorrow about it, please? I'll come to you, I will. But for tonight, I just want to be alone about it."

Gar nods and he gives up. He won't force you to talk even though he's worried. But, his biggest fear is you going after Jerry and you promised you wouldn't do that. So, he takes your word for it and accepts it.

"Promise?" Gar asks.

"I promise." You give him a soft and small cornered smile. "Thank you for being here for me. You're really sweet, Gar." You nod at him, your eyes filled of heartache.

"No problem." Gar gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You close the distance between you and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. He always smells like strawberries, the smell of home to you. Gar wraps his arms around you tightly, almost begging you not to let go. If you’re hugging him, it means you aren't going off the deep end and you aren't going to spiral alone. He's right there and he will always be here. And you feel warm and comfortable, holding him close to you. He's always so warm, he just radiates heat and you adore it. You swear you could never feel cold or alone again as long as Gar is near. But, right now, your bones are aching to be frozen. Your heart is pleading with you to let the cold shatter you into a million shards. Every part of you wants to be freezing because freezing is sometimes so much easier than being warm.

Freezing is being alone and tired. Freezing is the feeling right before the rage sets in. Freezing is the acceptance of the rage that will come and the actions to follow. Everyone talks about how anger is red and hot. But, for you, it's always been subzero temperatures because it's lonely being so angry. At least when you’re warm, it means you have someone in your corner, cheering you on, not letting the ice freeze over you when you’re drowning, trapping yourself in a lake. Being hot is allowing yourself to vent and get it all out but freezing keeps you in place. Pondering and pacing about every horrible thing you’ve been dealt, the anger is the only thing keeping your heart pumping and something about the cold is addictive like a menthol cigarette so you let him go.

"Thank you."

Gar nods. "Just, come to my room if you change your mind." Gar's hands linger on your back and you nod.

Gar breaks away and leaves you to yourself, a sense of guilt filling his stomach. It doesn't feel right but he doesn't know what else to do. He can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped even if that's the hardest pill to swallow. Gar is always the helper but you don't want his help. And he wonders if you’re too far gone to be helped right now. You’ve been through a lot and he wonders what is too much for one person. At some point, does someone just lose it and become something worse in the end? He doesn't want you to end up like that. But, he goes to his room and shuts the door, keeping it unlocked in case you change your mind, begging the universe to let you change your mind.

But you don't.

You decide you can wait until everyone goes to bed and then head to the comms lab. There you can look up Jerry, just like Jason and Gar did with you. You can probably get his address since this is Batman's house. Surely, the computers have access to a bunch of shit they shouldn't. From there, you can get a cab or an uber or walk if you have to, all the way to Jerry's and kick his ass.

In all honesty, you aren't completely sure if you’re ready but you have enough confidence and rage to shrug it off. If he knows you’re alive and kicking, that's almost enough. He has to know he did not win against you and it is not over. You want revenge and justice and you want him to never do that to anyone else again. And in your head, this plan will work. If he comes after you, he’ll have to fight the others Titans, too and he’ll lose.

You choose to ignore how Dick will react when he finds out. Dick has the codes for the whole building that monitors who comes and goes at any time. Surely, he'll know someone left and when he checks the camera, he'll see you. If he figures it out, so be it. You’re perfectly willing to take the chance, especially because you know Robin wasn't always a defensive fighter. You’ve seen your share of older Robin videos when Robin still would have been Dick and he would fight unprovoked sometimes. You’re sure he had a reason but the other guys didn't start the fight. To you, going to Jerry to pick a fight, is justified. So, you wait it out in your room.

It's been about three hours when you decide the coast is probably clear and safe for you to head out. You open your door and check the hallway, only seeing faint light from the city. You take that as a good enough sign everyone is in bed and you head to the comms lab. From there, you input the code which you find to be a bit funny that all of you have access to it. Getting Jerry's address was a lot easier than you expected it to be. It was in your files from the foster care system, even his Gotham address was in there which, apparently, he still owns the home.

Once you have the address in your phone, you head back to your room. You figured you'd get the address first and then get changed into something all black. This way, if you happened to wake someone up while getting the address, you could buy a little more time just to make sure no one was onto you. And it seemed to work. You changed without any issue and are on your way out, walking into the common area and almost to the elevator when a voice scares you.

"What're you doing?" He gives a scruffy laugh.

You wince, freezing and slowly turning around. "What are you doing?" You echo, crossing your arms.

Jason is seated at the snack bar, arms over his chest and a devilish grin tugging at his lips. "Asked you first." Jason quips.

"I'm not doing anything. Your turn."

Jason gets up from his seat at the barstools. He knew you'd be up to something. No one gets that mad about something and just lets it go during a two-hour movie. He actually thought you'd go to the training room and end up hurting yourself somehow so he waited and listened for you to come out of your room. He went straight for the kitchen only to see you not there and you weren't in the training room. So, he waited, curious as to what you were up to.

"Right." Jason nods, walking up to you. "Ya look like you're up to something." Jason looks you up and down, noticing the all-black attire, something you don't normally wear.

"You look like you're up to something." You raise, stumbling on your words. You have nothing. No ammunition in your arsenal for him. Jason isn't stupid or gullible.

"You're fucking bad at this, ya know that?"

"Bad at what?" You plays dumb.

"You're going to find him, aren't you?" His eyes narrow just slightly as his brows twitch up and you think he might actually be intrigued.

You pause and are you that obvious? Of course, you do look suspicious creeping around the tour at two in the morning when everyone else is asleep. You’re not in pajamas, you look like you’re going to rob someone. It's not a good look and you almost feels dumb for thinking you'd get away with it. But, why is Jason up then?

"You gonna stop me?" You challenge him.

Jason lets out a breath. "Nope." He shakes his head and you raise a brow at him. "Dick's gonna kill you if he finds out though."

"So, don't tell him." You snip.

"Let me come with you." Jason's eyes look you up and down. He doesn't want you to go alone. If it goes south, well, he'd rather not think about that.

"No." You chortle back. "This is my thing."

"Yeah? And if he has powers? You think of that?" Jason questions.

"I have powers. I can take him." You shake your head, your voice defensive but almost whiney.

"Come on." Jason sighs. "Just to make sure you don't get yourself killed or some shit."

You narrow your eyes. "Didn't realize you cared so much about my well-being." Sarcasm drips off your words and you almost think Jason has some other angle he’s trying to work here.

"You always gotta be such a bitch?" The last word has a touch of sarcasm to it.

"You always gotta be such an asshole?" You echo him in the same tone.

Jason gains the smallest of grins as he licks his lips. "I won't tell Dick."

You shake your head and it is a good idea to bring him. As much as you want to think you can take Jerry on your own, he has a point. For all you know, he does have powers and if his powers are better than yours or stronger, you'll need help. You haven't had the training and despite Jason not having powers, he's very good without them and can hold his own. Bringing him would at least probably make sure you don't get herself killed or recaptured.

"Fine." You sigh. "Okay."

"I'm gonna go get my suit." Jason’s voice fills with excitement as he spins on his heels, heading towards his room.

"Of course you are." You nod and take a seat at one of the chairs while you wait for Jason.

Jason doesn't take long, he was much quicker than you thought he would be. But when he comes out, you get to actually see him in the Robin suit for the first time in person. A part of you thinks he looks a little ridiculous, it's something about the cape. You never understood the cape. Hasn't Batman ever seen the Incredibles? But, there's another part that finds it pretty endearing. He holds himself higher in the suit, and it's not just the boots adding around three inches to his height. Jason is even daunting a genuine smile.

"What?" Jason asks, catching the look you’re giving him.

You move from your place at the counter and walk over to him. You get a better look at the detail and you’ve never seen a suit up close. It's kind of cool actually. You reach out and touch the cape, it doesn't feel like a standard, run-the-of-mill fancy fabric. It’s interesting and it’s a lot thicker than you thought but it doesn’t feel heavy.

"Made with zylon fibers." Jason gives this arrogant grin as you drop the cape.

"Mm." You hum. "Which is what?" You eye him carefully.

"Synthetic material." Jason explains and wiggles his brows. "Six times stronger than kevlar." He is beaming and it sends a rush of bubbles to your stomach.

"So, you're bulletproof?" You ask, matching the smirking expression on Jason's face.

"Pretty much, flame retardant, too." Jason's head is held high and there's this look in his eyes as if expecting you to be amazed and impressed.

You have to drop the teasing grin, turning more into amazement because of course you’re amazed by it. "That's..."

"Sick, right?"

"Yeah, actually. That's fucking awesome." You gush. You never understood the cape but now you do. It protects him and suddenly, you actually really like it. On him.

Jason laughs softly to himself, looking to ground and back to you. "Ready to kick some ass?"

"Hell yeah." You nod your head, quickly walking to the elevator.

"Here." Jason hands you a helmet as you both get into the elevator.

"Oh, you really have a bike?" You ask as you take the black full-face helmet from him.

"Why is that shocking?" Jason chortles.

You shrug. "Dunno, guess it makes sense. You're not like a bad driver, right?" You tease him.

"Fuck you." Jason scoffs. "Can you even drive?"

"Shut up." You huff. "No, I was held captive, remember?" Your eyes widen at him.

"I can teach you." Jason holds his head high, keeping his stare forward.

"Sounds illegal, Jason."

"Because what we're doing is legal."

"What if you just drive me around?" You give him a toothy smile.

"I'm not your chauffeur but nice try." Jason laughs and he knows if you asked, he'd drive you across the country.

"Awww." You pout your bottom lip at him but Jason just rolls his eyes.

"Real cute." Sarcasm drips from his words.

"I know." You give him a cheeky smile.

The rest of the elevator ride is quiet and you follow Jason to the parking garage. His bike is parked off in a corner with a cover. Jason rips the cover off with ease. The bike is a matte black Kawasaki sports bike. Of course, it's a sports bike, Jason wouldn't have a cruiser. Somehow, it's all very fitting and the very idea of Jason driving something like a Prius makes you almost laugh to yourself. The bike is better.

"Come on." Jason nods his head towards the bike as he swings a leg over, kicking up the kickstand.

You follow his lead, Jason tilting the bike slightly so you can actually get on. Once you’re situated, Jason looks over his shoulder at you and he has this boom in his chest. He doesn't let people on his bike but you’re different. You’re on a mission and he's not gonna let you get yourself killed. And he's in his Robin suit while you’re dressed in something of a suit yourself since it's not your usual wardrobe. Jason doesn't think he needs help kicking ass but the idea of having you with him? That's something he could definitely get used to. Maybe you'll make a good team.

"Ever been on a bike before?" Jason asks.

"Nope." You pop the 'p'.

"Alright, just hold on." Jason smirks at you and you deadpan.

"Ya know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this is your way of hitting on me." Your mouth twitches up into a teasing grin.

"Good thing you know better." Jason quips, the smirk not budging. "Put on the helmet." Jason says as he slides his on, buckling it under his chin. You follow his lead, the helmet a little big on you but you’re not going to complain. A helmet is a helmet. "Hold on." Jason nods once at you before sliding the face shield down and turning back around. You put your own shield down and hold onto his waist, the cape bunched between the two of you.

Jason takes off and your grip tightens around him. You’ve never even known anyone who owns a motorcycle, let alone had the chance to be on one and it's a bit scary at first, especially with you not knowing how Jason is as a driver. But, after a few minutes, you get used to it and find it a bit fun. It's a little cold with the winds against you but the city zips by you and there's a thrill and a sense of freedom that comes with it. You get why he likes it.

You gave Jason the address in the elevator so his phone could give him the directions. The GPS instructs him through the com system in the helmets. Jerry's house is just outside of the city. Not too far from where Dick had found you and you get why you were dumped there. You looked like just another homeless kid and if you were dead, it's likely the police would have thought that's all you were. Another homeless kid, another runaway, another addict. Maybe they would have cared a little bit here but you grew up in Gotham where it was normal so you don't think it would have been a big deal. But, finding a body in suburbia? That's almost always some type of big thing. The city makes sense.

You reach Jerry's house in about twenty minutes but Jason parks in the alley. The alley behind the house is secluded, no cameras and some bushes that shield you and the bike. You get off the bike first and then Jason. While Jason pushes it towards a tree to hide it a bit more, you stand outside the fence leading into Jerry's yard.

It's a pale wooden picket fence with a gate. It's basic but not too basic like the Cleavers, not to raise suspicion probably. But it makes your blood pressure spike. You can't believe you’re back here and you could turn around, call it quits. This could end badly. It definitely could and your plan wasn't well thought out. What are you supposed to do? Walk inside and just go off? What if one of the neighbors hears? What happens if this gets you and Jason arrested? Does Dick have any pull here to get you both out of it? If he does, would he help you or just Jason? Maybe this was a bad idea.

"You alright?" Jason asks as he stands next to you.

You look to him, worry written across your face. "Yeah, uh, j-j-just can't believe I'm here."

Even in the dim light of the alley, Jason can see there's something wrong. "If you wanna go back, we can."

You’re seriously considering it but you’re so mad. The broadcast plays back in your head, them calling Jerry a fucking hero. He's a hero? You’re standing next to fucking Robin. You were welcomed into being a fucking Titan and Jerry, Jerry the abusive piece of shit is a hero. That sends your blood into a boil again and eases every what-if situation from your brain.

"No, I'm good." You nod up at Jason before walking up to the gate.

You unlock the gate, allowing Jason in first while you close the gate behind you. And then there’s the house. It's such a basic, small, family suburban home. It's a light red brick, white trim. One floor with a decent patio and patio furniture. It is so simple and so basic, no one would ever know what happens in that house and that irks you. It's not a creepy run-down place where everyone has some type of urban legend about him kidnapping kids. His house, his perfectly cut yard, him, it all seems so fucking normal and he might as well be a Cleaver.

"Gonna break down the door or some shit?" Jason asks just above a whisper.

You roll your eyes at him. "He's such an upstanding citizen, surely he has a key, right?" You ask, looking up to Jason.

"Lead the way then." Jason gestures a hand out in front of him.

You walk over to the door and you do find it a bit convenient that the fence Jerry chose is so high. Someone would need a step stool to actually see over the fence and he has a fair amount of trees as well. You push the idea of why he'd want so much privacy away as you go up to the door.

"If I were a fucking psycho, where would I hide a key?" You ask, mostly to yourself as you look around. "Flowerpot is too obvious and so is the rock and the mat." You mutter and Jason watches you, questioning if you'll actually find a key. "I don't want people to think I'm a psycho so I would have a key, in case I get locked out or something." You continue. "Somewhere people can get but not too...." You crouch beside the glass outdoor table and look under it. "Idiot." You scoff as you find a key duct taped under the table. You rip it from the table and pop back up. "Got it."

"Nice." Jason congratulates you. "How'd you know?"

"Spent a lot of time here, you figure out where people would hide shit when you literally have nothing else to do but watch them." You explain as you walk to the door, gently placing the key in the keyhole.

"Fair enough." Jason shrugs. "Hey, you're not gonna kill him, right?" Jason asks as you get the door unlocked. He doesn't want you to get killed but he doesn't want you to get that kind of blood on your hands. None of you are supposed to be killing people, even if they might deserve it and Jason's worried Dick might kick you out if you do. Jason has a bad feeling about it.

"Of course, not." You shake your head. "I hate him and want him dead but I won't give him that satisfaction either." You assure him.

You take a deep breath, hand on the handle of the door. You shake your head and open it quietly. You take a few steps inside, Jason right behind you. You can hear a TV coming from the front of the house and a faint light coming from in front of you. You walk quietly through the kitchen, the TV getting louder as you approach the open room with the light.

Jerry is sat in a Laz-E-Boy recliner watching some game show. He looks so comfortable and content. That's enough for you to lose all of your inhibitions. You walk from behind the wall and come right into plain view, something Jason did not expect you to do. He thought maybe you'd sneak up on him but this is bold and that's when he starts to worry that you'll actually lose it. So, he walks up behind you.

You have a harsh stare on Jerry as he jumps slightly in his seat, the appearance of two people in the house catching him off guard. You know it's because he's too comfortable with where he is. No one expects anything, why would he be the one on guard? Meanwhile, you’ve been living in a constant state of paranoia.

"Y/n?" Jerry says your name and it sounds like nails on a chalkboard coming from him. But all you do is stare at him, fighting off the warming of your hands. He can't know he won.

He stands up from his recliner and makes the short walk over to you, expecting you to back away in fear but you don't. You hold yourself tall, not breaking eye contact with the stare that could kill. Jason takes a step forward as if it were an instinct, almost waiting for Jerry to do something, ready for Jason to not let him lay a hand on you. Jerry ignores him and instead, gains a sinister smile as he looks down to you.

"You're back." His voice is almost cocky like he knew that if you were alive somewhere, you'd show back up and you can't quite figure out why he would ever think that. You'd rather be on the streets. It's not like you weren't on the streets before. "I thought you were dead." He scoffs like it's some sort of taunt, a warning maybe.

Maybe he would kill you now if given the chance. Maybe that was his intention. You can't fucking tell what the point of it is. What you do know, is that you’re fucking done looking at his smug face.

"Surprise, bitch!" You yell before grabbing his head and bringing it down, kneeing him in the face in one quick motion.

Jason takes a step back, allowing you to just go at it. Jerry stumbles and you don't take a second to let him breathe. You’re quick to start landing punches and kicks, using all of your strength. You grab the collar of his shirt and drag him to the ground before punching his face as hard as you can. Punch after punch lands and you can't figure out who you are or what you’re doing now. Everything has turned red. Flashes of what he did to you cross your eyes with every blink. Everything comes back in a tidal wave, pulling you under so far you can't focus on anything besides making sure he never gets up to do that to you again. But at some point, it starts to look concerning from where Jason is standing.

You’re going to kill him if he doesn't stop you. Jerry had no chance which, if Jason wants to be honest, is a bit surprising. You haven't been training long and you’re not great at it. You have a lot of fight though, he'll give you that but he never thought you'd hold your own, not yet anyway. Jason always felt you had a long way to go and so did Dick. But, apparently, the rage and adrenaline flooding you is enough to fill the gaps of your fighting technique and it's scaring him a little. He won't let you kill him.

Jason moves behind you, bending over and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you off of him. You fight Jason as hard as you can but Jason is still much stronger than you are. You punch and kick the air, tears wetting your cheeks, something you hadn't even noticed.

"Let me go!" You wiggle around but Jason just wraps his arms tighter, falling to the floor with you.

"You're gonna fucking kill him." Jason says in your ear. "Stop." Jason holds you against his chest. He will not let you kill him as much Jason wants to see him dead. You don't deserve to live with his blood on your hands. He won't let you.

"I don't fucking care!" Your voice nearly cracks as you fight him. Everything is red and blurry. You hate him and you aren't done yet. He tortured you for a year. You want a few more punches in. You don't care that he's not moving.

"Fucking stop!" Jason yells at you. "You're not fucking killing him, alright? And I'm not letting you go until you stop." His voice comes back down and his grip is still tight.

"He doesn't deserve to live!" The yell that comes from you is more of a sob. "He was gonna kill me!"

"I know." Jason's voice is understanding but stern. "You can't kill him. That's what he wants you to do. You wanna be like him?"

You pause for a second, trying to regain your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest while your stomach burns. You don't want to be like him but you hate him so much. Jerry stole so much from you and he's so content with himself. It's not fucking fair and how are you supposed to live knowing that? But, with Jason holding you still, you get a look at Jerry for the first time without tears clouding your vision. He's covered in blood. There's blood coming from his nose and his mouth, red marks smothering his face. He's unconscious and you know Jason is right. You can't kill him.

"Okay." You suck in a shaky breath, a hiccup following. "Okay."

"I will drag you outta here kicking and screaming if you go again, alright?" Jason asks before loosening his grip.

"Okay." You nod, swallowing the hard lump in your throat. You can't kill him but you do need to check something. "Stay." You mutter to him, your legs weak as you get up, nearly tripping over Jason.

"Where the fuck are you--"

"I'll be back." You start your walk down a hallway off the living room, almost zombie-like.

Jason sits on the floor, staring at Jerry. He really hates this fucker, too. But he knows you're gonna have to get out of here soon. He doesn't think you were too loud and he checks the windows, not seeing any of the neighbors' lights turned on. But, you can't spend too much time just in case. So, he ties Jerry up with some rope he brought and gags him, just to make sure he doesn't come to and escape while Jason grabs you.

Jason walks down the hall and spots you standing outside of a door with several locks going up to the doorframe. You’re just standing there, not moving or saying anything. It doesn't take a mastermind to figure out that's the door to the basement. That's the only reason there would be so many locks. The guy was prepared for you, or anyone, to try and break out. Jason knows why you never could now. All those locks, what looks to be a thick door. You never would have had the strength and it breaks his heart.

"We gotta get outta here, Y/n." Jason says from behind you, there's an urgency to his voice.

"Door is locked." You mutter, almost as if you’re in a haze.

"Yeah." Jason agrees and he's watching you carefully, not sure what you’re going to do next.

"It wouldn't be locked if he didn't have a replacement." You shake your head, the fury you felt just seconds ago fades knowing what you'll find in that basement.

Jason's heart sinks into his stomach. He never thought you'd find someone else and he hopes you’re wrong. But, just in case you’re not, he doesn't fight you when you reach for the locks with bloody and shaky hands. You unlock six lock and open the door with hesitance. A single lightbulb illuminates the landing at the bottom of the stairs. You remember sitting there for hours before Jerry finally chained you up.

You'd run up the stairs at full speed, running into the door. It never worked and it usually led to you falling down at least a few stairs. It's nightmare fuel. But, you take a deep breath and forces yourself to walk down the stairs. Jason looks over his shoulder, making sure Jerry isn't behind you and he follows you carefully.

You’re steady with your steps as you reach the bottom. The basement is the exact same how you remember it. Dingy and grey, bad lighting, and nothing for any source of entertainment. There's no sign of food or water. All there is Jerry's experiment table with a medicine cabinet. He keeps sedatives in there from what you remember. Your bones ache as you look around until you spot the dentist-style chair you spent so much time in. But it's not empty.

"Oh, fuck." Jason sighs behind you, seeing a boy chained to the chair.

"You should call Dick." You say, your voice flat.

"He's gonna be pissed. Are you sure?" Jason looks to you and he knows it's the right thing to do but he won't call if you’re not sure.

"Yeah, he'll know what to do." You nod your head as you make your way to the boy.

Jason pauses for a second and watches you. It's great that you came and found this kid but he wonders how bad it's gonna mess you up. It'd mess anyone up, returning to the place of horrors to find someone else in their place. But, Jason doesn't sit on it, he runs up the stairs to call Dick and check on Jerry.

You approach the boy who can't be more than ten. You’re a little relieved looking at him. His cheeks are still pudgy and he doesn't seem to have any bruises or swelling. But the boy is scared, jerking away from you to the best of his ability.

"Hey, I-I-I'm Y/n." You whisper to him. "I'm not gonna hurt you." You take one of the chains in your hands, using the other to melt the chain away from where it had him connected to the ground. Once the boy is freed, he's almost too scared to move. "Did he hurt you?" You ask.

"N-no." The boy's voice is small.

"Okay." You offer him a small but warm smile. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?" The boy shakes his head. "My friend is upstairs and he's calling another one to help. Do you have parents?" You ask. The boy nods. "Do you know where they are?"

"M-my mom's...." The boy struggles for words, voice shaking. "In the hospital."

"Foster care until she's better?" You ask and the boy nods. "Okay, um...I used to live here, too." You tell him. "It's pretty scary but then my friends saved me. He's not gonna hurt you, okay?"

"Where is he?" The boy asks.

"Upstairs." You answer plainly and you catch the boy glancing to your hands. You finally realize they're covered in blood, seeing a few deep cuts on your knuckles. "It's just mine, I'm okay." You partially lie to him. "Are you from here?" The boy nods again. "I'm from Gotham. Heard of it?"

"Batman is from there." The boy says.

"Yeah," You give him a smile. "Pretty cool, right? Batman and Robin fighting bad guys." You see a faint smile pull at his lips. "Robin is upstairs, that's who my friend is."

"Your friend is Robin?"

"Mhm." You hum. "Pretty cool, right?" You ask him and he nods again, this time with a little more energy. "Don't tell anyone, but he's kind of twerp." You try to lighten the mood and the boy laughs faintly. "His cape is bulletproof though so I guess that makes up for it."

"It's bulletproof?" The boy's voice picks up just slightly.

"I know right, he just told me though and it's fireproof."

"That's cool."

"Right? It's pretty fancy."

"Why don't you have a suit?"

"I'm not really a hero yet but maybe I can talk to his guy about it one day." You scrunch your nose.

After a few more minutes of conversation with the boy, you mostly trying to keep him distracted, Dick shows up. He is pissed, so beyond pissed in fact, he almost doesn't look mad. He can't believe you and Jason really snuck out of the tower on your own and went to hunt down Jerry. Behind his back. You both have actually lost your minds. Dick doesn't know what he's supposed to do with the two of you. You can't do this, this is not what the Titans do. This was just reckless. Sure, you’re new and still filled with unresolved trauma, but Jason? He expects so much more from him.

Jason directs Dick into the basement after Dick sees Jerry. Dick just held the bridge of his nose while Jason explained what happened. He really cannot believe this but he just tells Jason to make sure Jerry doesn't go anywhere while he goes to get you. Dick walks down into the basement and he gets a sense of what you went through. This was the only thing you saw for an entire year. The only person you saw was Jerry and it sheds some light on how you ended up here right now. Not fully because Jason didn't get much chance to explain what lead you on a mission tonight of all nights.

But, Dick shelves it for the time being as he sees you with a boy. This fucker had another kid trapped. It's unbelievable and Dick should have done something about him himself. It always should have been your fight but had Dick known there was another kid, he would have done it. This shouldn't have had to fall onto your shoulders.

"That's my other friend, who's friends with Robin." You tell the boy as Dick approaches.

"I'm gonna take over, is that alright?" Dick asks the boy and smiles kindly at him.

"He's the one that found me and saved me. You can trust him." You give the boy a reassuring smile. And the boy gives you a nod.

Dick pulls you aside. "Are you okay?" Dick asks, seeing the blood on your hands.

You nod. "Yeah, I think it's mostly Jerry's." You whisper to him, not making eye contact.

"Okay, good." Dick nods with a hand on his hip. "Home. Now." Dick says through gritted teeth. "I will deal with the both of you when I get back." Dick shoos you upstairs and you wave at the boy before darting up the stairs.

You find Jason in the living room with Jerry still. You find it a little hard to look at Jason and Jerry. Jerry is a little too bloody and you’re thankful Jason pulled you off of him. You shouldn't kill him and you don't actually want to. Had Jason not been there, you’re afraid you wouldn't have been able to stop. You hope you would have but you’re not sure. But, Jason also witnessed all of that and that's the embarrassing part of it.

"Let's go." You ignore Jerry, walking past Jason and heading to the back door.

Jason is right on your heels, following you outside. He hates that he had to call Dick for this but Jason doesn't know how to handle another victim. You sure as shit shouldn't have to. Dick could at least, probably, clean up the mess. He was a detective and he is, legally, Bruce Wayne's son. Jason is sure Dick won't have issues with this but if it were just Jason and you, that might be an issue. He knows he had to but he still hates it.

"Hey." Jason calls after you as you open the gate but you ignore him. "Y/n." Jason continues as you reach the bike.

"Yeah." You say, turning to face him.

"You alright? That was nuts." Jason's words have almost a touch of hesitance.

"Peachy."

"Don't bullshit me." Jason scoffs.

You don’t ignore him. You never ignore him and you have a distant look in your eyes. He knows you’re not okay and you shouldn’t be after that.

You shake your head. "I don't fucking know, alright?" You grab the helmet from the ground. "Dick's pissed and he'll probably kick me out, ya know? But...Jerry is just..." You scrunch your nose as if fighting off something between fury and agony. "A monster."

Jason nods, walking up to you. "Yeah, he's a piece of dog shit. Doesn't deserve shit from anyone." Jason agrees with you. "Do you feel better?"

You shake your head weakly this time. "No." You finally make eye contact with him. "Not really."

"You should." Jason states. "He deserved it."

"I dunno." You scoff, your eyes feeling heavy as the adrenaline starts to crash. "I'm just..." You pause, looking away from him. "I'm so...pissed, I guess? But then I'm sad and upset and then I get mad again." You rolls your shoulders. "Like all I wanna do is lose my fucking mind over it but then I can't because I have to have some sort of control. Like I can't just take it out, it's bottling up over and over. And this didn't help the way I thought it would because it still fucking happened to me." You choke down a cry. "It's fucking heavy and it still fucking happened and....it didn't fucking help."

Jason looks to the ground, feeling sad for you. He's never been through anything like this. You have similar trauma from Gotham but this, this is uncharted. He can't imagine what you’ve gone through. Just the glimpse tonight tells him it was, without a doubt, torture. But he wants to help because he cares about you. Jason cares more about you than he has about anyone else. You deserve better.

He gestures a hand, making a fist at you to signal for you to give him the helmet. You hand it over. "Take it out on me." Jason offers, switching the helmet from his right hand to his left. "And put it on me." His words are filled of ease as if it were the easiest thing he's ever said.

"What?" You furrow your brows at him, your eyes scanning over his face.

"Take it out on me. You're fucking pissed about it? Spar with me, I'll go easy on you so you can get all that shit out. You're fucking sad about it? Rant to me until you feel better." Jason looks to the ground and then back to you. "I'll carry your shit for you, alright?"

"W-why?"

Jason doesn't tell people how he feels, not usually. It makes him uncomfortable. It puts too much pressure on him. It makes him too exposed to the elements of being broken. He cares about you and he knows you’re not that dense. He doesn't have to tell you.

Jason shrugs. "Just trying to help."

You wipe your face with your shoulder, feeling a sad smile come to your face. "That's awfully nice of you, Jay."

Jason finds the nickname endearing coming from you. "I can be nice."

"Sometimes." You joke softly. "Um...thanks for...coming with." Your smile falls as your brows furrow. "And for not letting me kill him."

Jason's smile is warm. "Anytime." The warmth in Jason's chest is nice, comforting even and something he hasn't felt, ever. "Let me see your hand." Jason sticks out his hand as he closes the small distance between you but you just quirk a brow at him. "Your hands are covered in blood, let me see how bad it is, damn."

You laugh softly, putting your right hand in his. "Starting to hurt a little." You mutter as you pull out your phone, shining the flashlight on your hand.

"You brought your phone?" Jason laughs. "Dick could have tracked that." Jason shakes his head, examining your hand. "Shit's gonna hurt in the morning."

"Yeah, pretty sure I got his teeth in a few punches."

"No fucking shit." Jason chortles, seeing the cuts across your hand. "You gotta clean this when we get back."

"Yeah, that'll be fun." You scoff. "Ready to get out of here?" You ask.

Jason drops your hand, giving you the helmet back. "Don't get blood on my suit." He smirks at you, waking just past you to grab his own helmet.

"I'll try my best." You mock, waiting for him to mount the bike. "Bulletproof, fireproof, but what? Blood stains are where the line is drawn?"

"No, I just don't that dickweed's blood on my suit." Jason chortles.

"Mhm." You follow his lead, getting on the bike as he leans it. "Sure, that's it."

"Shut up and put the damn helmet on." Jason shakes his head, putting his own helmet on. You laugh, putting the helmet on and sliding the face shield down before leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his waist. "Ready?" He asks, barely looking over his shoulder and he feels you nod against his back before turning around and sliding his face shield down and taking off.

Back at the tower, you and Jason go your separate ways for a few minutes. You go into the bathroom to start cleaning up your hands and Jason goes off to his room to change out of his suit. While you get the supplies, you’re faced with some confusing feelings.

Jason is a lot of fun to flirt with and he's really cute. You actually like his arrogance and snarkiness. He's tough and smart, much smarter than people wanna give him credit for but you also know he's dangerous. He's rough around the edges and a bit of a wild child. Jason is just as fucked up as you are and you find a sense of comfort in that. He chooses to be angry and have a bit more violence to himself. He can be kind of soft if the moment fits, but he likes to fight. And for you, it's comforting because that's the only thing you want to do lately. Fight and be angry. It's nice to know you’re not alone in that. And he makes you feel safe and understood without even trying. But, you do also find a sense of comfort in Gar.

Gar never would have let you go tonight. He would have been able to talk you out of it. Jason didn't even really try. Gar, despite his trauma, chooses to be kind and gentle. It's a foreign concept to you. To choose the opposite of what you’re dealt. But there is something refreshing in it. There's something refreshing in his optimism even if his optimism seems a little forced like maybe that's his way of dealing with his trauma. You worry Gar pushes it all away so far it'll snap back like a rubberband one day. But Gar does it anyway and he's also very cute and smart and funny. You like the same movies and same tv shows. There are common interests. For you, you like them both for different reasons. So, maybe your best bet is to keep those feelings to yourself. You don't want to ruin anything between the three of you.

You start the water and stick your hands underneath, stinging and burning consuming your hands. You hiss as you try to wash the cuts.

"Need help?" Jason asks from the doorway, watching you struggle to keep your hands under the water.

"Fucking please. This shit hurts and I need two hands." You groan which makes Jason laugh as he walks in.

"Lemme see." Jason holds out his hands for yours.

He looks over the cuts on your hands, now with less blood and better lighting. Bloody and bruised knuckles aren't new to him. He swears there was a point where they were always bruised. He saw purple skin across his hands more than he saw his normal skin tone. Since, being Robin though, the gloves take most of the blows. He doesn't miss it, the ache of bruises and scratching from healing scabs. But, he at least knows how to deal with it.

Jason grabs the antiseptic wipes from the counter that you had already taken out and takes your left hand in his. He doesn't warn you, he just goes right for it and starts cleaning the cuts gently. You hiss, swearing under your breath as the stinging consumes the cut.

"Sorry." Jason offers an apologetic glance as he continues. "They aren't that bad, the cuts." Jason explains.

"Hurt like a bitch though."

"Because you beat the shit out of someone." Jason chuckles. "It happens."

"Mhm." You hum, watching him carefully.

Gentle is not a word you would use to describe Jason Todd. In fact, in the month and a half you’ve been here, you don't think you’ve ever seen him actually be gentle about anything. But, he is now and maybe that's why you’re so infatuated with him sometimes. He's not as two-dimensional as he comes across. There's a lot about him that's just some façade, maybe to push people away so he doesn't get hurt. After what he's been through, you sympathize with that. But, you wish he'd drop the act a little. It's fun, sure, but you want to know more about him and find out what really goes on inside that head of his.

"Tell me something about you." You say, keeping your eyes on your hands as Jason switches to the clean the other one.

"Like what?" He asks, his voice flat.

You shrug. "Dunno, something though. Like, something not a lot of people know about you."

Jason pauses, keeping your hand in his as he looks to you, expecting you to have some type of teasing expression but you don't. Your eyes hold curiosity and a sense of calmness. This isn't normally how you communicate. It's just banter and flirting but you seem genuine now. It makes him shift.

"Why?"

"Because." You shrug again as you look at him. "Curious, I guess. I won't tell anyone." Your eyes widen, this time a bit teasing. "I'll tell you something."

"No." Jason shakes his head, not having the game.

Letting people close? Not his strong suit. To him, there's no reason to tell you. What you're doing is fun. He's having a great time and he doesn't wanna ruin it by getting a little too real with you. The trauma is almost easier to talk about it because you’ve been through it. But talking about the things that make Jason, Jason, the stuff underneath the trauma, that's the hard shit. That's the shit no one can just know. The trauma is public information. It's not that easy to just talk about.

"What're you so afraid of?" You ask, the lack of teasing in your voice is almost making Jason uncomfortable.

"I'm not afraid of anything." Jason snarks, lying to himself.

"Hmm." You hum. "We're all afraid of something, Jay." There's that nickname again. "Just, I dunno, tell me something real about you."

You make it so tempting. It's the way you smile at him where he knows you’re being serious but the very corner of the right side of your mouth twitches into a grin, just slightly. It's a kind of taunt thing you do with him when you’re trying not to and it makes his stomach flip like he's on a rollercoaster. Something in the way your hand lays gently in his and the way you let him in during vulnerable moments, makes him want to tell you.

Jason sighs, going back to cleaning your hand. "If you tell anyone, I'll kick your ass." Jason warns and you smile, crossing your heart with your free hand. "You know the story. Mom's a smack addict, dad's a dumbass who got himself killed, uncle same shit." Jason explains and you nod even though he can't see you. "Foster care, the streets, juvie."

"Lifting cars?" You ask.

"Amongst other shit, yeah." Jason nods, tossing the antiseptic wipe into the trash and grabbing a roll of gauze from beside you. "I found this school when I was on the streets and slept in the rafters of the auditorium." Jason talks and he gains this gentle smile, one of fondness. He shrugs a shoulder. "I'd watch the theater kids at night when they'd have a show." Jason pauses. "Got pretty into it."

Your heart warms with him talking. The thought of Jason Todd being a theater nerd? Amazing, funny, endearing. Explains why he's so dramatic. It's not what you expected in the best way. That's the kind of real shit you want to know about him. No one would have ever guessed that's his thing and you think it's adorable.

"Huh." You hum as Jason finishes wrapping your left hand. "Didn't peg you for a theater kid."

"Yeah, used to think they were the losers." Jason chuckles, taking your other hand in his. "Now, I wear a mask and a cape."

"That's kind of cute, actually."

"Shut up." Jason groans, thinking you’re messing with him.

"No, I'm serious. Honest, it's cute. Jason Todd, a soft spot for theater. I dunno, I think it's cute."

Jason's eyes narrow as he looks up to you, not sure if he should believe you. But you have soft eyes as you look at him. And your smile is so wide he finds it hard not to believe you. Maybe you were a theater kid and that's your big secret.

"What about you?" Jason asks. "I told you mine. You tell me yours."

"Okay, but you can't laugh." You don't fight him. It's only fair. Jason mimics you crossing your heart, a teasing smile on his face as he licks his lips. You roll your eyes. "I love romance movies."

Jason huffs, trying not to chuckle. "Sorry, sorry." Jason snickers. "You don't seem the type. Your extensive knowledge of horror movies and shit."

You shrug one of your shoulders letting out a sigh. "I love horror movies, man." You laugh. "But, I like romance movies. Ya know, where the guy gets the girl and he holds a boom box over his head. Or throws a fist in the air. I guess, The Breakfast Club isn't romance but I count it. Easy A though with all of the tropes, 13 Going On 30 during the photoshoot scene, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days with Somebody Like You playing in the background." You list some of your favorites. "I also like sad ones, though. I cry every time."

"Yeah?" Jason puts your wrapped hand down, raising his brows at you and instead of stepping away, he keeps the close distance to you. "Why?"

"Dunno." You shrug once more. "I just do. Like I cry every time I watch A Walk To Remember. 'I'm sorry she didn't get her miracle. She did, it was you." You quote the movie. "I ball my eyes out, every single time. Um, the Notebook, of course. Me Before You, I expect him to live every time and every time he dies. The Time Traveler's Wife, PS I Love You when she gets the last letter." You let out a sharp breath. "Shit, I always expect a different ending, but it's all the same and I cry."

Turns out, you're both full of surprises. Jason never would have thought you liked romance films. It's more than your taste for horror, a lot of people like a lot of different genres of movies. It's also because of your attitude. Rom-coms don't seem your thing, you always seemed more of an action or dystopian person to Jason. But, you have a soft side.

"Full of surprises, huh?" Jason chuckles softly.

"Guess so.” There’s a shy smile pulling at your lips and you feel warmer right now with him, than you have in a long time. “What else?" You ask.

"I read." Jason says, finding it easier to talk now. "I'll read pretty much anything. Always liked it but got a bit more into it on the streets. Libraries are free."

"Didn't peg you for a reader, either." Your smile is sweet.

"You a reader?"

You shake your head. "Nah, the act of reading kind of makes me tired." Your eyes widen with annoyance at yourself. "I wish I was, though. My mom used to read me as a kid and that was fine but I try to read and my brain decides I should sleep.” You laugh softly at yourself. You look down, tilting your head to the right. "Alright," You breathe out, looking back to him. "Got any more questions?" You give him a teasing grin, quickly raising your brows at him.

Jason hums and he could ask a million questions. He's liking getting to know you like this but Gar is also his friend. You seem kind of into him, a little at least. As much as he'd like to know what other hobbies keep you entertained or what your favorite memory is, favorite movie, any hidden talents you had, he's thinking maybe he should ask about Gar before this goes anywhere else. Getting to know you more without knowing what your intentions are, freaks him out a little. Why get close if you'll leave? So, he matches the grin and decides to play the game.

"Yeah, actually." Jason lets out a sharp breath, leaning forward. He places a hand on either side of your thighs, resting his hands on the cool countertop, his face just inches from yours. You eye him carefully, your heart banging against your ribs. "What's up with you and Gar?"

You let out a huff, a taunting smirk on your face. "Hmmm." You hum, trying to figure out his angle here. "Why?" You ask, tilting your head to the right.

Jason mimics your action, shrugging slightly. "Can't be curious?"

"You can." You state, trying to ignore the beating of your heart and swirling in your stomach.

"Well?" Jason asks.

You put your hands over his and get just an inch closer to him, playing his game. "Jealous?" You narrow your eyes at him slightly and Jason's heart bounces into his stomach.

The answer is yes. If there's something going on, yes, he's jealous. But, he's not so jealous that it would get in the way of his friendship with Gar or whatever is going on between him and you. That's petty and dumb, Jason has bigger issues than jealousy over a girl. But, there is a tinge of jealousy in his stomach at the thought of you with Gar instead of him. However, he doesn't want to give you that satisfaction. He can tell by the way you asked and the cornered grin you’re giving him, you expect him to say yes. And he won't.

Jason's voice is low, brows raised. "You fucking wish."

You laugh softly, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe you do want him to be jealous but that sounds like a lot of drama that would be tired and boring. But, you also don't have a witty comeback as much as you want to. No one's ever been able to leave you lost for words but Jason does. He's so quick and smart that it leaves you tongue-tied. He's playing this round-and-round game so long, he's basically an expert. It's fun, though.

Your eyes narrow at him, searching for something to tease him with but you’ve got nothing. You’ve never noticed before but his eyes are really pretty. They're green, not dark green or hazel. They're a muted shade of something like a sea green with a yellow in the center. For a second, you think you could get lost in them like wandering through a forest with no destination or map, just the sun guiding the way. And he has a few dark freckles scattered haphazardly about his face that you want to connect like constellations. He's cute, that was your first impression. Cute. But, taking a second to really look at him, he's kind of beautiful in a tragic kind of way.

"And if I did?" You ask, your brows raising, licking your lips and Jason gives this forced chuckle. The game is being played and neither of you are backing down, so he closes the distance just a bit more, your noses almost touching as Jason eyes your lips.

"Do you?" Jason asks.

His voice has this taunting sense to it, like he's teasing you, about to make fun of you. But there's this hint of curiosity with it and maybe even a want in the tone. Maybe he wants you to wish he were jealous. Maybe that'd make the whole thing easier. You make the move for him.

You rest your forehead against his, Jason's heart about to beat out of his chest and he's never felt this with someone before. He feels dizzy around you, his stomach this bubbly mess. He's excited to see you every single morning. There's this rush that almost, just almost, feels like putting on the Robin suit but different. He gets to be so unapologetically himself with you and that's not something he has ever felt before.

Your nose brushes his and every part of you is ready to dive into him. You feel electrified with him. Nothing about the trauma even matters with him because he's been through it. His mom, his dad, he fucking gets it and you don't have to hide or protect him from it. Jason is this unmovable force that makes your bones ache at the core. You’re trapped in a rain storm but when Jason is around, he's the tunnel you get to drive under. The tunnel that quiets everything around you even when it's still pouring. He makes you feel alive again.

"Maybe." Your voice is a whisper, you’re not ready to commit to closing this. It can't be on you.

The game isn’t so much a game anymore, not right now because you’re too close for that now. You’re trapped with bated breath between you, waiting for the other to finally commit to it. You want him to commit to it so badly you can hardly even breathe. There’s just something about Jason to you that you can’t explain. And, Jason, he wants you.

His lips brush yours and there's hesitance it in. If he kisses you, the game ends. Something will come of this. It might be good and it might be bad. But something will have to come of it. You'll have some sort of discussion about it and he wants you so bad but he wants you to want him, too. So, his lips brush yours and he’s just about to ready to say fuck it and close the distance. And maybe you’ll kiss him back.

"What the fuck?" An exasperated voice pulls yours and Jason's attention towards the door where Dick is standing with his hands on his hips looking absolutely exhausted and pissed and fed the fuck up.

You jerk away, pulling your hands into your lap while Jason quickly moves away from you, his cheeks turning a cherry red. Both of your lips are burning, as if you'd just committed to something that never even happened. It feels like you were hiding some dirty little secret when Dick walked in. You weren't doing anything different than what you normally do but it still felt different. A bit more vulnerable, a bit more hesitant. It felt different and Dick interrupted it. Neither of you even know if the other would go through with it. You hope the other would though.

"Seriously? You nearly kill someone and then you..." Dick gestures at the two of you, trying to figure out what he walked in on. This is not where he saw this going. "Are doing whatever you're doing in here."

"W-we weren't doing anything." You glance between Dick and Jason. It's not a lie even if it feels like one.

Dick shakes his head. No one prepared him to handle this. No one prepared him to handle people who apparently try to kill someone and then have a deep moment later. What is he supposed to do with that? First training behind his back and now this. The two common denominators in this have been you and Jason. In his eyes, Jason must be the bad influence because you’re traumatized and Jason is probably encouraging the bad behavior. He can't let you two just do whatever you want when you want. Someone's going to get killed and he's thinking the two of you together would be the cause.

"This," Dick waves an open hand between the two of you. "Whatever that is, no." Dick says and Jason and you look at him with confusion. Jason shifts his weight to his right foot, putting a hand on his hip while you shake your head as if to be processing what's going on. "You two, no."

"Picking my friends now, huh?" Jason scoffs, annoyance raging from his bones.

"Looked a bit more than that, didn't it?" Dick fires back.

"Well, this is awkward." You huff, more to yourself. "We're friends, Dick." You groan. "I know, hard for you to grasp giving your history, but guys and girls can be friends." Dick's mouth moves as he's trying to figure out what you mean. "Oh, Rachel told me that you hooked up with two of your friends and it seems you still have a thing for both of them. But, one left and the other is dating some other guy who was also your friend and a Titan." You explain, keeping your voice nonchalant and Jason nearly bursts into a fit of laughter watching Dick's face turn red.

"Okay, no, that's not--" Dick shakes his head cutting himself off. "This isn't about me."

"It could be. We could work through your parental problems and really get to the root of the problem because you might have commitment issues. That's what it sounds like." You explain while nodding your head, Jason snickering to the side not able to control himself. Dick's gonna kill you.

"We're not talking about me." Dick groans, growing more annoyed. He has got to do a better job at keeping his private life, private. "Stop deflecting."

"She's very good at it." Jason adds in.

"I think that's all our strong suits, to be fair. Notice that he turned it back to me. Deflecting." You say to Jason.

"No, we're not doing this. I'm not playing your game." Dick sighs. He wants nothing more than to go to bed. He didn't think he signed up to actually parent the new Titans. He almost feels bad for what he put Bruce through. "You're both in deep shit." Dick's voice goes stern again and you accept you can't get out of this one as much as you tried. "I expect more from you." Dick turns his anger onto Jason.

Jason's jaw nearly drops as his eyes widen. How the hell is Dick blaming him? "What?" Jason nearly yells, the word coming out as a scoff.

"You didn't do anything to stop her, did you? You could have come to get me but you didn't." Dick points full blame on Jason and you’re sitting there almost certain this is a weirdly vivid dream. He can't be serious. "You're the oldest, you know better."

"Are you fucking serious?" Jason huffs. "I made sure she didn't kill the fuckface." Jason tries to defend himself.

"You should have come to get me." Dick insists.

"Right," You start, your voice slow as you keep glancing between the two of them. "You're blaming Jason?" You almost laugh at how stupid that it is.

"Let me guess, you take full responsibility because it was your idea and you manipulated him, right?" Dick throws your previous discussion back in your face. "You wanna be Robin again?" Dick turns his attention back to Jason. "Stop fucking up."

You watch the look on Jason's face. His face drops, for just a split second before turning into pure rage. You understand that Dick should be mad at you both, absolutely. You did something stupid and dangerous. But, throwing Robin at Jason's face doesn't sit right with you. You don't know the story but it's pretty obvious being Robin is something that means a lot to Jason. You don't throw something like that in someone's face, not like that.

Jason walks up to Dick, standing toe-to-toe with him. "You don't fucking decide if I'm Robin or not. I'm the new Robin." Jason says pointing to himself, not looking all that intimidating having to physically look up to Dick. "You're just a washed-up version of a hero."

"Stand down." Dick keeps his voice level with Jason, not giving in to him.

"Jason tried to stop me." You speak up from your spot on the counter, not wanting to see where this fight is about to go. Jason will not stand down and you don't think Dick will either. If you didn't know any better, you would think they were actually brothers.

Jason turns quickly to look back at you. He's surprised. He did not try to stop you. He basically encouraged you to go. He drove you there and didn't step in until it started to look bad enough. Jason knows the odds of Dick kicking him from the Titans are low because of Bruce but you? You’re still new and if you cause more trouble than you’re worth, Jason thinks he might. Deep down, he knows Dick wouldn't but somewhere in his head, he's afraid Dick would and you take the blame anyway.

"He was getting a snack from the kitchen when I was trying to sneak out." You lie. "He-he, uh, he figured out what I was gonna do. He tried to stop me, convince me to go back to bed or he'd come get you. I promised him I wouldn't do anything."

You said you'd never rat Jason or Gar out which makes Dick find it hard to believe that happened. He does also know Jason and Jason isn't one to step away from a fight. Jason talking you out of it seems incredibly unlikely but Dick can't prove it at this point in time.

"Why'd he drive you then?" Dick challenges trying to find a hole in your story.

"I told him I'd be gone before he could get you. I was going regardless. So, instead of me getting into a strange car at two in the morning, he said he'd drive me as long as I didn't do anything. He only wore the Robin suit as a safety measure." You lie through your teeth.

You haven't always been a good liar but it was something you needed to be better at. You have tells like everyone else, the way you kick your foot out every few seconds, the lack of hand movements. But, Dick doesn't know you well enough to know your tells so you lie with the first thing that comes to your mind and by the look at Dick's face as he looks back to Jason, you’re thinking he believes you.

Dick sighs. "Just," Dick starts, his attention on Jason as Jason looks back to him. "Come get me, okay? I have to be able to trust you."

"Right." Jason scoffs.

"Go to bed, I'm gonna talk to Y/n."

Jason looks over his shoulder and you give him a soft smile with a nod. Jason sighs, not wanting to leave you alone with Dick but it's probably for the best before he punches the guy. "Good luck." Jason scoffs, pushing past Dick and leaving the bathroom.

Dick walks further inside, leaning his hip against the counter while you’re looking at your hands in your lap. Your head is hung as if you’re waiting for the 'I can't trust you, you have to leave' speech you know is coming. You wonder why you do that. Taking the risk of homelessness when you know it's a possibility. It's not like you do it on purpose but you get mad and frustrated, nothing else really matters at that point. The only thing that does is not being mad anymore. It clouds everything else in your brain. A booming kickdrum drowning out every better decision you’ve ever had.

"Is that actually what happened?" Dick asks, his arms crossed.

"Yep." You answer, not looking to him.

"What were you thinking?" His voice is disappointed this time, completely different than the anger he had towards Jason and it doesn't sit right with you but that's not the argument you want to have right now.

"Guess I wasn't." You mutter. "Kicking me out?" You peek an eye at him, your words hesitant.

Dick shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "No." He shakes his head. "Wanna tell me what the hell happened though?"

You shrug. "He was on the news." You say, your voice small and quiet. "They were congratulating him for being an upstanding citizen, an everyday hero, because he saved a fucking kid from getting hit by a train."

Dick nods once, understanding how you ended up at his house. "So, you decided to go after him?"

"I mean...yeah." You looks up to him. "It's just not fair, ya know? I'm..." You pause, trying to find the right words as the fire dies out from your blood. "I'm scarred, physically and mentally from him. He did all that shit to me. I'm a freak now because of him. He ripped me from my home. I talk shit about Gotham but it's my fucking home and he ripped me from it." You shake your head as you look back to your hands, picking at the bandages Jason applied. "He gets to be called a hero and I get stuck with more trauma."

Dick's anger for the night fades as he listens to you, for the first time, really listening to you. You’re not snarky or fighting with him. This seems like the most honest you’ve been with him since he found you. He sees a part of himself in you. Angry and bitter and resentful of the life you're dealt. You were both just kids when your lives got ripped out from under you. No kid deserves that. It makes him sad, that's the one thing everyone in this tower has in common. Childhoods ruined by adults who are too selfish and cruel to think about their well-being. Or even care about their well-being.

"He thought I was dead." You scoff, feeling the burning of the back of your eyes start. "He actually said that tonight. He dumped me for dead. Just...like that. Like I was trash. I'm not..." You pause, your chin wrinkling slightly. "I'm not even upset that he didn't give a fuck, ya know? Because fuck him but...I am upset that a human can do that to another human. He tried to kill me." Your voice breaks.

Up until tonight, a part of you thought it really was an accident. Jerry just thought he went too far, he didn't mean to do it. But, tonight, the look on his face, he wanted you dead. You were too much maybe. Too big of a hassle because you put up a fight even with words. You'll never know his why and maybe that's for the best but the thing is that he did try to kill you. That's something that you have to sort through and live with. Beating someone to death is a personal thing, there's a burning hatred there and while you can't rationalize it, it's like you’re trying to anyway.

You’re putting blame on yourself even when it doesn't make sense because you’re the victim. From the time you were put into Jerry's care until the day he dumped you in that alley, you were the victim. But, you can't stop your mind from blaming yourself. What about you is so un-fucking-bearable that someone would hate you so much they'd try to kill you? He's evil, he doesn't need a reason and it's not your fault, but that doesn't stop the thoughts. And you thought you'd be okay joking with Jason, maybe that would quiet everything for the night but now you’re talking to Dick and you can't joke with him like that. And now it's haunting the marrow in your bones, aching and dragging.

"I'm not mad, okay?" Dick assures you. "Disappointed but I understand. That's a horrible thing you went through. I get that, I do." Dick starts. "But, you can't go off on your own like that. I know you had Jason but anything could have happened. You were in his house. You almost killed him." Dick keeps his voice steady and lacking of anger. "It sucks. I went to get revenge for my parents being killed and I regret it every day." Dick opens up a little making you look at him with a raised brow.

"Why?"

"I didn't kill him but because I went after him, he was killed by someone else." Dick explains. "He killed my parents but it wasn't my job to kill him or get him killed as mad as I was or as unfair as it is. That's just not our job."

"I didn't wanna kill him." You suck in a breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. "Just beat him up, rub it in a bit that I was alive and kicking. Show him he didn't win."

"I think you accomplished that." Dick raises his brows quickly.

"Yeah," You sigh. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for losing it and dragging Jason into it."

Dick shakes his head. "Just don't let it happen again." Dick pauses. "You don't have to take the fall for him."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not."

Dick nods, not fully buying it. "Okay, well, extra chores for a month then."

"That it?" You ask.

"Yeah, don't do this again." Dick pushes himself off the counter.

"Aye-aye, captain." You solute him haphazardly.

Dick sighs with the response. "Just get to bed." Dick says before leaving the bathroom.

You let out a breath, taking a second to be. There's a lot to unpack tonight. You look at your hands and a part of you wants to grieve for the person you’ve become. Three years ago, you'd never hit anyone. You'd have someone threaten to hit you and you knew you'd never do anything about it. Fighting never seemed like the best solution. It always seemed so pointless but now you’re here with bloody knuckles, fueled by anger. You get it now but you don't know if you like the feeling.

But, you’re so sad and angry, like weights tied around your ankles. You’re gnawing and clawing at them but they never budge. They just get stronger the more you struggle. Every day you live and Jerry gets to exist in happy contentment, it's another pound added. Every day you live and the Joker gets to keep on jokering, it adds weight to your shoulders. The anger and sadness cloud your every move. Grief is agonizing and numbing and all-consuming. And when you think you have something to make it better, it's temporary. Training, movies with Gar, video games, music, teasing Jason, beating up Jerry. It's all temporary relief. The second you’re alone with your thoughts, it creeps back in, a tsunami receding the tides again.

And you wonder if you'll ever hit the acceptance stage of grief or if you'll just be trapped here alone for the rest of your life. So, you clean up the bathroom and look for a distraction because the guilt and grief feel too much.

Your fist knocks on the dark door softly and you wait a few seconds. This is a bad idea and you know it. But you don't want to be alone and you don't want to think about anything. Thinking is becoming a chore and you feel haunted. Tied down and struggling. Beating up Jerry did nothing but make you feel worse which then, somehow, makes you feel even worse. It should have helped, it should have because he got what he deserved but it just makes you feel like the bad guy in all of it. You saved someone tonight but all you see is Jerry covered in his own blood, thinking that's what you must have looked like. And a part of you thinks maybe you aren't any better than he is because you did to him what he did to you. It is different and you know that but it’s late and you can’t be alone with those thoughts.

"Hey." Jason greats you, surprised to you.

He thought for sure you would listen to Dick and stay away from him. He's not entirely sure if he was serious about it but it wouldn't shock him. Jason is bad news, dragging everyone he cares about down with him.

"Can I come in?" You ask as if you’re on a mission.

"Sure." Jason opens the door further for you and you walk in. Jason closes the door behind you, leaning against it, waiting for you to say something.

Something's off. No smirk, grin, or smile. No teasing comment. No remark about the half-empty bottles of Gatorade and Red Bull scattered about his room. You were, relatively fine and normal when he left besides being pissed at Dick. For a second, fear strikes him and he wonders if Dick gave up on you already. Jason knows that can't be it, Dick sucks sometimes but he's not that fucking horrible. But, that's also the only thing coming to mind.

You turn to face him, your expression almost flat and Jason watches you as you walk up to him. You stand just a few inches from him without saying anything. Normally, Jason would find this as a challenge, play the game again and see what happens in the safety of his room. But, not now. Not with the flat expression and distant look in your eyes. Not like this.

And you think about it. Think about kissing him and using him as a distraction, that was the plan coming here instead of waking up Gar. Gar would have too many questions and he'd have this way of getting you to spill your guts to him. You’re too tired for that. It's too much thinking, too much emotion. But you’ve got your eyes locked on Jason's and you want to kiss him because it'll be such a good distraction and it'll make you feel something incredible. It'll make you feel wanted and important, you won't feel so damaged anymore even if it's just a few minutes.

But that's not fair to him either.

You shake your head. "Sorry." You take a step back, swallowing thickly.

"It's okay." Jason says, still watching you carefully, concern starting to creep onto his face. "What's up?"

"I don't wanna think about it anymore." You answer candidly.

Jason nods and he has an idea. If it were anyone else, he’d go for it because kissing someone and letting it go wherever it decides to go, is a fun little distraction. But, this is you. And he swears if something is meant to happen, it won’t be because either of you want to be distracted. So, he walks over to a dresser near the window and looks inside. You watch him, questioning what he could possibly be doing. You aren't sure what you expected him to do but say something would be high up on that list. Instead, he's just looking into a drawer so you make the walk toward him.

"What're you doing?" You ask from behind him.

"Pick one." He says, gesturing a hand inside the drawer. You walk up beside him and see several books. You raise a brow at him. "Just do it." Jason sighs.

You shrug and go along with it. You look over the spines, studying them and it's kind of interesting, seeing what books he likes. There's dystopian young adult, horror, adventure, a few classics. It's like a little window into his world and there’s something sweet and soft about it. But, you spot one that you’ve actually seen the movie for so you pick that one.

Jason laughs as you pick the book with the pale yellow spine. "You've seen the movie?"

"Yeah, of course." You answer with a laugh. "Of course, I've seen it. Is the book good?"

"You tell me." Jason takes the book from you and walks past you, going towards his bed.

You spin on your heels, the confusion and curiosity engraving itself across your face. "What?"

"When shit gets too fucking loud, I read." Jason explains, sitting on his bed while you walk over to the end of the bed slowly. Things get loud for him and escaping into a book helps. It quiets the noise. "Or I train but you don't seem like you want to do that right now."

"That would be a correct assumption." You state. "But, I just said I don't read." Your eyes are narrowed still waiting for Jason to explain what's going on.

Jason stretches his legs out before opening the book and flipping to chapter one. He clears his throat. "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton." Jason reads the first line and your face softens and your heart stops in your chest, realizing what he's doing.

Not to be dramatic, but a part of you almost cries while he reads. This is probably one of the nicest and most thoughtful things someone has ever done. Reading is draining to you but his way to deal with shit. This is his world that he's inviting you into in order to distract you. Jason Todd is not nearly as calloused as he comes across and it's so warming and jarring that you are, yet again, at a loss for words. And you adore him so fucking much, you swear he makes all of your broken parts seem not so broken.

"You gonna just stand there or you gonna sit?" Jason asks as he finishes the first paragraph. He feels exposed again but for you, it's worth it. It'll always be worth it for you.

"Okay." You smile at him, crawling onto his bed and sitting beside him.

He gives you this look of contentment, of ease. His eyes are soft, not sad or pained like they normally are. He looks comfortable, here with you and a book in his hand. You want to cry so bad because something about him seems so perfect. He's perfect but in the way that something by Monet is or the way a glass vase is. He's perfect with every cracked, messy, and damaged parts of him because they make him...him.

You think maybe perfect isn't the right word for him because he has flaws, you both have flaws. To be perfect is to be flawless and Jason Todd is anything but flawless but to you, with gentle and adoring eyes, he seems perfect. Maybe to be perfect, as a person, is not to be flawless but to be flawed and still be unapologetically yourself. Maybe that's what is it. To be perfect, as a person, maybe it's because of the things you do and who you are rather than what's happened to you. Maybe being a perfect human is just being able to show softness even when all you have ever known is a life of tragedy and heartache. And to you, Jason Todd is perfectly flawed just like you.

You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. The action surprises Jason a little but he falls comfortable with you against him. Jason thinks you’re everything he could have ever asked for. He doesn't care about the violence or the rage that courses through your bones. He doesn't care that you have some issue with Batman over the Joker. It doesn't matter to him because you see him for who he is. He is not Jason Todd, the arrogant asshole. To you, he's just Jason Todd. Jay. And Jason thinks that's what makes you perfect. That you understand him and you care for him even when he's drowning in a war against himself. Jason Todd thinks you’re perfect and he doesn't think anyone is perfect.

Jason looks to you and smirks because he can't help himself. "Unless you wanted to do something else." His brows wiggle as he teases you.

"Shut the fuck and read the fucking book, Jay." You roll your eyes, sinking into him and looking over to read along with him.

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#gar logan #jason todd #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #gar logan fanfic #gar logan fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #caving in

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possum-quesadilla · 11 days

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The first chapter of Lonely Remnants, the fic about my CorpseJuice AU, is up! It’s called “Your body may be gone, I'm gonna carry you in, In my head, in my heart, in my soul”.

CorpseJuice is an AU where Lydia’s mother dies in a car accident, and her adopted brother, Lawrence, goes missing and is presumed dead. A year later, she stumbles upon a demon puppeteering his corpse! She and the demon work together to find out what happened the night of the wreck, and who her brother really was.

Please read the warnings attached to the start of the chapter before continuing, this fic is a doozy!

Here are the extras for chapter one!

- The lyrics for this first chapter are from “Ocean Breathes Salty” by Modest Mouse! It is very literal for Lydia and her lost family members. I wonder if it’ll come back later?

- “Lawrence Graham” - Since his last name can’t be Shoggoth, I decided to pick a last name that has relevance to the plot! But I can’t tell you what sort of relevance yet. Because spoilers.

- “He could look at someone and know in an instant just what to do to scare the absolute shit out of them.” - This is a sort of joking reference to Beetlejuice’s line in “That Beautiful Sound”, about “clean white shorts turning brown”!

- “Talking Heads and MCR” - I listen to one of these. The other my best friend listens to and says he thinks Beetlejuice would be really into.

- “the ‘TinyTimes Hardware store’” - Thank you @jessicawesker83 for this whimsical suggestion. I love it!

- “Barbara Butterfield” - thank you @bjfinn and @ten-chocolate-sundaes for helping me figure out a good maiden name for Barbara!

- “Lydia remembered her mother cheering for Lawrence when he’d finally asked them to “hang out” with him, seeing some sort of cheesy horror comedy flick with them.” - IT’S MY FIC AND I GET TO PICK THE ANACHRONISTIC MOVIE THEY SEE IN THEATERS!! They saw “Tucker & Dale vs. Evil” because I said so

- “One moment, Lydia and her mother were laughing and singing along to ‘Jump in the line’ by Harry Belafonte.” - This is, of course, a reference to the line in the musical where Lydia says that this was one of Emily’s favorite songs.

- “Only a portion of his left arm, and six liters of his blood were found in his stupid, beat-up old green 2001 Volkswagen Beetle.” - the most blood a human can lose and still survive two liters. Also, get it? A Volkswagen Beetle? A green buggy?

- “Charles refused to pay for a cemetery plot, and certainly not one next to Emily.” - What an ass! I wonder why this is.

- “Jumping off the old bridge at the edge of town, into frigid waters, letting them carry her to wherever her home was now.” - This is a reference to Barbara and Adam’s death, and how Lydia planned to kill herself in the original film. It is also a reference to how she often called her mom “home” in the musical.

- “They sat huddled together and watched his favorite movies. ‘Zombieland’, ‘Groundhog Day’, ‘The Mask’.” - Haha, “Zombieland”. ‘Cause he’s a zombie now. Also yeah “Groundhog Day” is a sort of reference to LoopJuice, sue me. Notice how Lawrence only really likes comedies! He was actually pretty squeamish with blood and gore that wasn’t for the haunted house.

- “Barbara and Adam helped Lydia find a counselor that same day. Her name was Kerry, and although she was resistant at first, she’d helped Lydia tremendously.” - The name ‘Kerry’ is, of course, a reference to Barbara’s actor in the musical, Kerry Butler! I just think she’d have such a calming presence, and that she’d listen to you so well.

- “They both wore a necklace each; a simple chain with a ring attached. They got them shortly after the accident. Lydia had never gotten a good look at them, but she could take a guess as to what they were. (In June, she got her hands on the police report. A box with identical engagement rings had been found in Lawrence’s glovebox, and were handed off to “next of kin”.) Barbara and Adam never took the necklaces off.” - Ouchie. Are we connecting the dots here? Because I don’t like the image they’re makin’.

- Bellflowers mean everlasting love, forget-me-nots are pretty self explanatory. Also, bellflowers are purple! Lawrence loved purple and green.

- Sunflowers obviously represent happiness, which is a little ironic, but Lydia chose them more because they were her mother’s favorite.

- “A dirty, stained, shredded grey trench coat, the arms caked in dark splotches she could only hope was just mud. (They were black and russet brown, so probably not.) The left sleeve of his trench coat was tied off, most of that arm obviously missing. His hair was wild, stained green from what seemed to be moss growing on what little she could see of his face, as well as on his clothing and down his neck. A… somewhat familiar red button-up underneath, patterned with beetles, and tattered black slacks- ” - Yeah, he is dressed like Beetlejuice’s cemetery appearance in the movie! But he is not a KeatonJuice. The button-up and pants were what Lawrence was wearing when the crash happened, and the trench coat… let’s say the demon stole it.

- “C’mon, Scarecrow, don’t be so glum. I’ll be back before you know it.” - This was the last thing Lawrence ever said to Lydia before leaving for his “family emergency”.

- “Lars!” - Lydia’s own nickname for Lawrence.

- “Like he’d gargled a bowl of nails every day for the past century without any milk.” - Sorry not sorry for the SpongeBob reference.

- “His skin was a sickly sort of green, with moss patches growing on his face, and various sickly bruises dotting all of his visible skin.” … “His movements were stiff and robotic..” - Sorry, I studied forensic science for a few years, so there is a lot of gross dead body stuff in this fic that I will do my best to tone down. The “bruising” is livor mortis, or discoloration of the skin after death. The weird, stiff movements is from the demon being a freak as well as rigor mortis, or the stiffening of the joints/limbs after death.

- “Number 88, to be specific. We’re part of a big collective, see? A big ol’… mishmash of primordial goop.” - The demon’s true form is goo. The black stains on Lawrence’s face is it leaking out. This Beetlejuice is more Lovecraft than Dante’s Inferno. Also, #88 is a reference to the year the original film came out!

- “Let me take the driver’s seat!” - This is a reference to the song Alex Brightman sings in “Dead End: Paranormal Park” as his characters Pugsley and Temeluchus. The similarities were an accident.

- “Shuddering twitches wracked through it’s body, moving up from it’s legs, to it’s torso, to it’s shoulders, then it’s head, but it didn’t seem to care.” - The twitches and shakes are from both the demon being a weirdo (and AuDHD but we don’t have time to unpack that) and from algor mortis, or the body cooling after death.

- “Whatever-the-fuck. The.. it’s a chemical only found in brains. Gotta eat it or risk total rejection from the host.” - Yeah I kinda stole the idea from “Venom”. Yes there will be more things I stole from “Venom”. Let a creature (me) have fun and borrow things from their favorite rom-com!

#beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #lydia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #charles deetz #emily deetz #corpsejuice extras #corpsejuice #corpsejuice chapter #beetlejuice au #beetlands #beetlelands #lonely remnants

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larryrickard · 2 months

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trauma from performing cpr

i don't even know if i want to post this here, but whatever. i'm trying to talk about it to bring awareness and to process shit. i'm finding surprisingly little about this. it's also been a hell of a fucking week and i'm worried for my own health tbh. i've written shorter versions of this on fb & ig but i should probably get ALL of it out and well hello tumblr, you have the room for it and are technically a blogging site. so here we go. if you read all of this, bless.

thursday 07/11, my stepdad (R) feels unwell and my mom, as symptoms begin to stack up, suspects a heart attack and takes him to the hospital. he is indeed having a heart attack. he never lost consciousness. he's transferred to another hospital and has two stents placed.

sunday, 07/14, he comes home.

friday evening, 07/19, one of the stents fails (we won't know this until later). he immediately lost consciousness. i overhear my mom ask if he's ok, if it hurts, and "i'm calling 911". she yells for me. i go downstairs to hear her telling 911 that he's not breathing properly, she can't tell if he has a pulse, and that he's turning purple. my brain immediately goes into overdrive. all i can think about is how we need to perform cpr (my mom panicked and hadn't even thought of that and this upset her. i pointed out that it's understandable, and the 911 operator would have gotten her there, i probably only just beat them to it). i run to unlock the door for emergency services and when i come back, we manage to get him out of his chair and i start cpr (more about that later). my mom eventually had to take over. thankfully shortly after that, EMTs/fire arrive. at one point my mom counted nine of them, plus the two cops who showed up. they work on him for what i initially thought was like 30 minutes but was more like an hour. they finally get him stable enough to be able to transport him to the nearest hospital with a cath lab and availability.

between here at the house and at the hospital, they'd shocked him at least eight times. he was very unwell. i stayed behind, as did three EMTs. i figured they'd just collect sharps/biohazard stuff and be on their way. i was fully expecting to clean the rest up myself, and to put back all the furniture we'd moved (getting him out of his chair, moving stuff out of the way so it was easier to get him out on the stretcher). but no, they grabbed everything they could, and put the furniture back. i knew, if i were them, i'd have done the same thing and not thought anything of it. but it was just such a small gesture that really got to me and meant so much.

i'd called his sister (N) and my mom's sister (B). so my mom at least had B, N and her husband (R2), and one of their daughters (N2), who is a nurse. (wildly, my mom's niece (B2) is also a nurse and they attempted to call her in to help but she said no, that was her uncle, and obviously was immediately disqualified from the rotation.) he's so unwell that N tells my mom that if she wants to take R off life support, it's her decision and N fully supports her. shortly after, one of the doctors comes out and says R has improved slightly and said he was following instructions. we (doctors + family) had been worried the lack of consistent blood/oxygen flow would have left him with severe brain damage and/or damaged organs/extremities.

my mom (and N2?) go to see him. she talked to him, and he would try to pull out his ETT (breathing) tube. my mom would gently guide his hand down, and tell him no, that it's okay, just try to breathe normally, don't fight it. at that point he got tears in his eyes. eventually, B, N & R2, and N2 made my mom go home to try and get some sort of rest.

saturday, 07/20 at 3:30am, the doctor calls to say R is stable but obviously in v critical condition. they have some sort of pump on him to help his heart, but it's too small for his height/weight, so they want to put a larger one on him. they're going to transfer him to another hospital who has one.

my mom and i manage to get a few hours of sleep. my mom and i talk some in the AM. we have no idea if he's going to get any better. and if he does, we have no idea who he is going to be if he does. i ask if he has a living will, and my mom didn't think so. we talk about how, knowing him, he probably wouldn't want to be kept alive if there'd be no good quality of life. she was thinking she'd tell the doctors not to save him if he codes again. out of curiosity, she goes looking for his will and finds he has a living will (that's like 15 years old so no wonder she forgot), which confirms what we were thinking. that removes any doubt my mom might have had should she do those things. she later felt bad that she'd allowed him to be saved at all at the hospital (the heart pump thing) and i told her what did she think R would have done if it was her. or any other pair of loved ones. immediately go looking for a living will, or follow them to the hospital and ask that they be saved? of course it's going to be the latter.

a doctor calls and talks about wanting to try to get R onto ecmo, so that his heart can have a rest. the right side of his heart was now damaged as well, and the doctor was hoping that if they could do this procedure for at least 3-5 days, his heart might get precious rest and it'll profuse blood through all his body instead of the smaller pump that couldn't fully do that. it would also give them an opportunity to see if there was any organ damage. they might even know sooner than that.

they had to sedate him because he kept trying to pull out the tubes again. given that he was still following instructions and seemed to have heard her the day before, my mom had a hard time trying to decide whether or not to do the procedure and how best to honor his wishes. we decided to go ahead and give this a try. it'll give us answers, and we can go from there. we'd only be keeping him to see if there really is anything TO be kept. my mom tells the doctors if he codes again to withhold life-saving measures.

my mom and B go to see him. i didn't want to see him like that. especially after having to see him like i did the day before, and the trauma i'd experienced (again, more on that later).

my mom and B come home around 3:30pm. obviously, this is not a good sign. i know it has to mean he's gone. they confirm he is. that they tried to get him onto ecmo, but his heart started going crazy. the doctors believed so much that ecmo could help, that they performed some cpr to try and get him onto the machine. after several minutes, they stopped.

as with many deaths, it didn't feel real. he was feeling fine. there were no symptoms that something was wrong. he was just... out, and then there was a sliver of a sliver of hope that i was doing my very best to not think about (though i did have the thought of telling him he owed me, for the cpr, as a joke).

before he died, one of the doctors told my mom that we saved his life. if we hadn't performed cpr, EMTs would have had nothing to work with. that even if he didn't survive this, we gave him the chance TO survive it. this took a huge weight off my shoulders. i literally felt lighter. various people i talked to about it called me amazing. brave. badass. someone even said i was "heroic". that's not how i feel. i'm fucking traumatised. even over a week later. thankfully, i knew, going into cpr, that breaking ribs was a big probability. i'm glad my brain reminded me of that beforehand and not as i did it. i've also since learned usually it's more like separating cartilage from the sternum, but going by the sounds, and the feeling... at least one rib was broken. most likely multiple. also possibly just reinjuring one. it was horrible. i obviously kept going because i know a sore chest is better than being dead. he occasionally gasped for breath, which in the moment was comforting because it meant i was doing it right. but the whole thing will not leave my mind.

cpr is as exhausting as they say it is, but thankfully adrenaline helps with that. i had to stop and let my mom step in. i literally fell over and almost fainted, i was so woozy. i hadn't been paying attention to my own breathing. probably not enough and probably breathing too quickly. i was sore as fuck for about two days.

i called a crisis line that night in order to get help until i could see my psychiatrist. i needed something to help me with the thoughts. immediately after EMTs/fire arrived and took over CPR i literally thought "i hope i don't get ptsd from this" lol.

(i will say, i did get to see a lucas device in action. these are amazing machines that perform chest compressions for the EMTs to free them up to do other important life-saving techniques, as well as save them from the exhaustion. it's also more accurate than a human. seriously, look them up.)

the crisis line gave me the advice of: let the thoughts happen. they're obviously going to. it's me and my brain's way of processing everything. but, to then let them go. i asked what did they mean by this. they said think of something else, distract myself. don't focus on the thoughts or let myself spiral. easier said than done, obviously, but it did give me some sense of control. i couldn't control those thoughts, but i could do my very best to control the next one.

the day R collapsed, five hours before that i'd had a regular appt with my psychiatrist and told her what had happened and that he was doing fine. lol. thankfully, i was able to see her on monday 07/22. then...

that night, around 9:30 my mom called me downstairs to tell me she was feeling dizzy and that her blood pressure kept going up. she'd taken baby aspirin. she had me get her blood pressure medication so she could take it a few hours early. i made her drink some water because she hadn't had very much, and had coffee that morning (which dehydrates you), and figured she was just dehydrated but what with everything that R had gone through, we were both hyper-aware of possible signs, and wanted to be sure. so i took her to the hospital. her EKG came back fine but they did blood work, and some protein or enzyme or whatever that the heart releases when it's stressed (such as in a heart attack) was elevated so they had her hang out in a room for a bit. they tested her for stroke just in case, as well as took her for a CT. her echocardiogram was fine. they decided to admit her, bc while that protein/enzyme was coming down, it was too high for their liking. they scheduled an MRI for the morning. i went home around 1am.

tuesday, 07/23, about 2am she called to tell me they were transferring her to another hospital that had better capabilities in terms of heart health. again, her EKGs came back fine, they did an angiogram and there's no blockages whatsoever. they suspected a slight heart attack from all the stress, but in the end (and after another echocardiogram), they declared her to be fine. broken heart syndrome. the heart was stressed and therefore tight, so they've given her meds to help relax the heart muscles so it can rest. she came home wendesday 07/24.

needless to say, i'm stressed as fuck. my psychiatrist sent in an rx for anxiety meds i hadn't needed in like 7 years. i was doing better until the whole thing with my mom. how the fuck it's been a week since R died i have no idea. thankfully i could take bereavement from work this week, and my boss is giving me monday off as well just to give me an extra day bc the added shit with my mom. i've also asked if i could be assigned to one of our service desks where it's easier to step away than the other two (unless the one has two of us at a time, which doesn't always happen). she's got that set up for me. i also have a follow-up with my psychiatrist on thursday. i was going to ask for leave long enough to meet via telehealth as usual but i forgot there's a staff meeting that day so my shift is scheduled earlier. she's booked our meeting room for me to use, and made sure the desk i'm on has someone else schedule on it at the same time so i can make sure i'm not late.

i'm worried about my own heart. even though my HR has come down while medicated, it was at/over 100bpm for about two days, then around 90 with meds, and then back to 100 with my mom. finally came back down to 90s, and with meds it's been around 80bpm which is at least close to normal. thankfully, when i'm asleep it's in the 60s like it should be. saturday evening it was more around 70s which is so much better. but i am also overweight. my cholesterol is occasionally slightly high, but not high enough for them to be worried at all, and my LDL is generally pretty good. i just worry that my heart is doing the same thing my mom's did. and, of course, worrying about all that does not help my HR.

anyway. i didn't have high opinions of the man, as he was ultraconservative (at least he hated trump...), which is why i've never been able to be out to my parents as queer (not-straight and nonbinary). but he has been in my life since i was 8 (i'm 41 now). i obviously had some love for the man. and i feel bad bc while it hit me that he was probably going to die, now that he's gone it's still just more of a disbelief that he's not going to be around anymore. that he's just. not here anymore.

and, all of that being said, do not let my trauma dissuade you from performing cpr. it's one of the most important life-saving techniques we have. get trained, even if just once. refresh yourself occasionally, keep up with any updates to it. for example, hands-only CPR is trained more now than including mouth to mouth. my two(?) trainings didn't prepare me for the broken ribs thing, they never mentioned it. thankfully, from what people are telling me, it is included in the training now. some training covers the guilt people might have if (when) that happens. but i just wish there was mention that you might need help afterward, especially if you have to perform cpr on someone you know. (the AHA finally recognised this ONLY TWO YEARS AGO.) maybe share some resources to help you. apparently some larger hospitals have support groups for this. also, to talk about it. even if you don't have a professional, just talking about it to people helps. and reduces the chances of ptsd. that these feelings do happen. unless you're in the medical field, your chances of having to perform cpr are very slim. actually saving a life is, unfortunately, even rarer (1 in 10 apparently). but YOU could be that person. you could save someone. you could give someone the opportunity to survive, the possibility of a second chance at life.

while this is a less-than-once-in-a-lifetime situation for a layperson, and i wouldn't wish performing cpr on anyone, PLEASE, attend training at least once and regularly refresh yourself. if you're employed or in school, you might be able to attend a training for free.

trauma aside for a moment. it's fucking wild knowing i saved a life, even though it didn't work out in the end. it's a strange feeling. i've been told i should be proud of myself. maybe i'll get there some day. idk.

#cpr #cpr trauma #cardiopulmonary resuscitation #cpr flashbacks #mental health #me #long post #i know i could put this behind a cut and i probably should but i'm too tired to think about where i'd put it #death cw #body horror cw #ptsd

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factorydefaultlu · 4 months

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Don't Wanna Hurt No More

Supernatural Fic

1.1k words

Summary: Dean watches helplessly as John beats Sam for talking about his strange dreams.

TW: child abuse, alcoholism. Kinda wincest..

A/N: I wanted to rewrite that one scene from The Black Phone but insert the Winchester's. Idk bruv. Just take it. I plan on expanding this to have an aftermath where Dean cleans Sammy up and it's angsty feelings for both of them

Also on my AO3

The first thing Dean heard was Sam's shrill voice cracking as he yelled, then he heard their dad's gruff response followed by a thud.

Dean leapt from his place on he and Sam's shared bed, and rushed to get the door open. The hinges squeaked and the dingy door drug on the carpet as he tugged. The family had been staying here for about a month, renting this shitty trailer on the edge of town.

It had actually become decently peaceful, although that was because their dad was gone for about 3/4s of the stay. Dean knew it wouldn't last. It never does; He's used to it.

Sam however, fought with John tooth and nail over anything he could think of. For years the two have been like that, and Dean wondered if it would ever mellow out before they killed each other over a disagreement.

There was another loud thud and Dean could finally make out their words as he entered the main room.

“Don't you talk like that! Your dreams don't mean anything!” John barked and Sam scrunched his face up in anger. This was not a new topic they battled on, in fact it was a monthly debate.

“You don't know that! You won't even look into it!” Sammy stepped back as John took a step forward, he tried to keep from showing how scared he was, but Dean knew.

Their dad had clearly been drinking, and Dean could smell the whiskey on him even from across the room. He always smelled like booze these days.

“Dad.” Dean spoke just loud enough to be heard, trying to get John's attention, but it fell on deaf ears.

“I won't look into it because it's nothing. Nothing! Sam, your dreams are just dreams!” The words slur and John stumbled just a bit as he tried to get closer to Sam.

Sammy had his hands on the back of one of the dining chairs, placed between him and their dad. That must have been the first thud Dean heard; Sam grabbing something to shield himself from John.

“What if it has something to do with mom?” Sam prodded, this is an argument they've had before and it never ended pretty. Sam never relented on it though.

John's hands were flying to undo his belt buckle before Dean could even close the space between them. Sam flinched and gripped the chair tighter, prepared to use it if he had to.

“Dad!” Dean tried again, hesitantly lifting his hand as if to reach out and grab his dad's arm.

John didn't even look at him before speaking. “Dean, go back to bed, this has nothing to do with you.”

Sam tried to use the small distraction to make a break for the door. Unfortunately, their dad had quicker reflexes and managed to grab Sam by the shirt. Fabric tore as the boy was dragged back, then thrown to the floor. A loud crack struck the air, followed by a strangled cry as John's belt came down on Sam's side.

Dean knew better than to interfere hands on, it'd just make it worse on Sammy. He couldn't do a damn thing but stand there as his baby brother was beaten by their own father. It makes his blood boil. Dean wished he could take Sammy's place.

“I wouldn't have to do this if you'd just listen to me!” John had tears in his eyes and Dean had to bite his own tongue before he made things worse.

‘You're beating the shit out of your son and yet you're the one crying?’ The words hung in Dean's throat, he was choking like a dry pill; words he would never say aloud.

Sammy is a fighter though, and thank God for that. He managed to pick himself up off the floor between belt strikes and shoved the chair into John's knees. The wood scraped the yellow linoleum and nearly knocked John off his feet.

A slew of curses sprang from his mouth, and Sam rushed for the kitchen. He snatched the full bottle of whiskey off the counter and held it above his head as a warning.

“Quit hitting me! Quit hitting me or I'll drop it.” Sam's voice cracked from a mixture of puberty and all the screaming. Dean's heart broke at the sound, and all he wanted to do was hold his baby.

John turned to look Sam dead in the eye as he white knuckled the belt.

“Put the bottle down, son.” His voice was softer now, the threat of losing alcohol got his attention better than his son crying from the abuse.

“I should break it! This shit is poison to you. I hate the way it makes you act!” Hot tears stained Sam's cheeks. Even still, he had a look of determination in his eyes.

“Watch your fucking language!” John stepped forward and Sam's fist unclenched from the neck of the bottle.

All at once Dean heard glass shattering, John shouting, and more cracks of the leather belt on skin. Cursing and yelling followed, and Dean finally found his agency to help Sam.

“Dad quit!” Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him off the floor. The belt whipped Dean's arm and he yelped, but refused to let Sam get beaten anymore.

“Not until he says it!” John gestured to Sam, “Say it. Your dreams are just dreams.”

Sammy scrunched his nose in disdain, Dean knew that was the last thing his baby brother wanted to do. He stared at the back of Sam's head as he held his blistering shoulders, as if trying to telepathically beg him to say it.

‘Just say it. Please. You don't have to believe it. Just say it. For your safety.’ More words Dean would never say in front of John.

“My dreams are just dreams.” Sam mumbled, venom in his tone.

“I can't hear you.” John pressed; Dean wanted to punch him in the face.

“My dreams are just dreams.” Sam says louder.

“Again!” A look of satisfaction crossed John's face.

“My dreams are just dreams! There's nothing special about me! I'm normal!” Sam spat, trying to hold back another sob.

This seemed to satisfy their dad, he took a deep breath in and nodded while looping his belt back through his jeans. “Good. I don't want to have this conversation again. Ever.”

John grabbed his keys from the table and made his way to the front door. “I'm gonna get more whiskey.”

Before the door shut again, John turned and looked Dean in the eyes. “If you ever interfere with a punishment again, I'll make sure he feels it 10 times worse.”

That wasn't a threat, it was a promise, and Dean knew it.

The boys stood in the living room, frozen where they'd been left. It wasn't until they were absolutely sure their dad was gone that Sam finally broke down in Dean's arms.

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #wincest #weecest #gencest #weirdcest #tw child abuse #tw alchohol mention

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clearlydiamondz · 1 year

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Loyal to Royalty

Erik!Stevens x OC

Part Four

- - - - - - - - - -

Princess Imani was the black sheep of her family, never really fitting the female royal type. When an arrange marriage between Prince N'Jadaka and her is set up, she tries her hardest to get away… but she just can’t.

- - - - - - - - - -

The following morning, Nakia and Imani woke up early to go for a run in the morning dew. With the perfect temperature, it was a must. "Princess please slow down. Not everyone can be as fast as you." Nakia panted bending over as Imani turned around chuckling.

"Sorry, I usually don't have anyone running with me." she replied before she grabbed Nakia's shoulder making her stand straight. "Hands on top of your head. There is no oxygen down there." she joking said as Nakia hit her with her towel on her thigh making her laugh.

"Soo... it seems like you and Prince N'Jadaka is getting quite familiar with each other." she wiggled her eyebrows as Imani rolled her eyes.

"Don't think to much of it." she responded sitting down in the grass as Nakia sat down next to her.

"How could I not, you guys looked more in love last night than me and Challa." she bumped shoulders with her.

"I'm really good in what I do." she responded back as Nakia laughed.

"I see. Have you seen the tabloids?" she responded as Imani looked at her confused.

"Already?"

"You may work hard but Wakanda works harder." she laughed as Imani shook her head. "I gotta look for myself." Imani said standing up and dusting her butt off and then helping Nakia up.

They were now at the palace, in the kitchen making smoothies. Imani sat at the counter on her iPad looking through the online articles and blogs. Not only were they viral in Africa, they were top trending in the States.

The new royal couple seem to come out of no where, but boy are we excited! American business owner, Erik Stevens, are now getting married to the Princess of Kambaho, Imani, daughter of King Z'Kiri have made their relationship public as they were seen with King T''Challa and his wife, Princess Nakia. Erik Stevens, also known as N'Jadaka in his father's country, were found out to be blood after the death of King T'Challas father. It is rumored the two will be the new royal couple in the Country of Kamabaho. More insights later to come.

"I was not expecting to be trending in America." she said in shock as Nakia laughed.

"I mean yeah.. it's not like everyday Americans have someone marrying royalty." she said pushing the smoothie her way as she took it opening another tabloid. Pictures of them were shown sitting on the front row, talking and smiling with each other. Damn, they looked real good.

One of the pictures had her laughing as Erik stared at her in awe. If she wasn't a fool, it looked as if that look was genuine. She continued looking through the pictures.

"Ayo, you got to see this!" Shuri came into the kitchen with her tablet, which she had on twitter. "Don't know if you know this but y'all are trending on twitter right now."

Me: Mom can we go watch Coming to America

Mom: We have coming to America at home

The coming to America at home:

That one made her laugh loudly.

She continued to read through the tweets as Erik came in. "Goodmorning y'all." he said sitting beside Imani as she looked at him with a smile.

"We are trending on twitter right now." she told him as he chuckled.

"Yeah I caught wind of that. Some of my niggas back home in Oakland saw it and hit me up." he chuckled sitting back in the chair.

"So, this will probably mean that you will need a publicists." Nakia said cleaning up the mess from the counter as Imani groaned.

"Oh god, I didn't even think about that." she said but then she thought about it.

"Well why would we need to do that?" Erik asked.

"Well for some interviews and events to be approved, we need a middle man to direct these things." she said as Nakia nodded.

"I mean I'm not sure how comfortable you are with American tabloids but you most definitely will need to do so if you plan on talking to them. You know how messy they can get." Nakia rolled her eyes.

"Don't even get me started. Took one look at the Shaderoom and my goodness are they misrable." Shuri rolled her eyes as Erik chuckled.

"I'll have to run it by my father. I'm not sure how comfortable he is with that." she said, then Erik looked at her.

"I mean, it's only fair. That is MY home country after all." he said. He was expecting her to say something negative but all she did was sigh.

"And I completely agree. But my father has a distrust with the American government. Not the American people. They know for a fact they'll try to mounvier some way to get vibranium. Especially with us trending right now." she said scratching her forehead.

"Seems like you did your job a little too good." Nakia smirked.

"Well, Nakia and I have some stuff to work down in the lab." Shuri grabbed her stuff before putting a hand on both of their shoulders.

"I wish you the best of luck my Coming to America rip offs." she said laughing. The two of them playfully rolled her eyes. They left the kitchen as Erik looked at her.

"What do you think your father will say?" he asked her standing up as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Honestly, my best bet is he'll say no. And quite frankly, I wouldn't feel too comfortable also." she said standing up. He turned around and looked at her.

"And why is that?" he said crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at her. If it wasn't for these circumstances, Imani most definitely seen that and would be turned on. His muscles were nicely on display with the black T-Shirt, and don't get her started on the grey sweat pants.

"I mean, I took a look on the Political news tabloids. They are already talking about trading with our Country if Wakanda isn't up for it. And I'll be damned if I let that happens."

"Well that doesn't have nothing to do with talking to American tabloids." he mentioned leaning against the counter.

"Not yet it doesn't. America is like-" she stopped her self before saying something offensive about America to this American.

"Say what you need to say. America ain't all that great to folks that looks like us." he chuckled noticing she was beating around the bush.

"You give America an inch, they'll want the same amount of miles from the Sun to the Earth." she said as he laughed.

"Well, this is something that needs to be discussed with King Z'Kiri." he responded. For some odd reason, she was a little offended by it.

"And why can't we come to this conclusion together. I mean, we will be the next King and Queen." Not it was her turn to cross her arms with an attitude.

"Okay, for one drop the attitude." he said grabbing her arms and unraveling them as she rolled her eyes. "For two, you seem a little hesitant. Plus, with the two of us as rulers no way America will step over us or Wakanda." he stated. "You already know what's up with me."

That bought her back to the first night they met. He was very adamant and helping black Americans and she knew damn well he would try to prevent that from happening. Maybe she could take this as an advantage for her country to be protected.

"Okay.. I admit your right." she whispered as he turned around with a fake shock.

"Me? Right? You have a fever." he said touching her forehead as she smacked his hand away as he smiled at her. Gold teeth, white straight teeth, dimple smile. Damn, why he had to look at her like that.

"Why you staring at me like that?" he asked her. Thinking quick on her feet, she pointed to his smile.

"Your gold teeth compliments you well." he smiled even harder to show it off.

"Eh, I have a nice collection of grills. Might get you your own." he winked at her as she laughed.

"My father would have a heart attack." she chuckled then nodded. "That would be nice."

"Aye, you can't be my woman and not walk around with some gold on your teeth."

______________________________________

Her trip to Wakanda came to an end. As much as she didn't want to leave, business needed to be attended at home. She walked through the halls before she saw her father, Amarah and Oshana sat in the living quarters reading and/or watching the television.

"Oh your back!" he exclaimed closing his book with a smile on his face. "I see you represented your country very well, daughter." he smiled at her as she nodded.

"Yeah, N'Jadaka was really supportive." she said scratching her forehead. "But father, there was something that the two of us needed to discuss about the news. I'm not sure if you know this-"

"Yeah you guys reached the Americans." he said standing up. "Seems like you guys are getting a positive feedback."

"Well not that exactly. Politics." she said as he groaned.

"It's not in your place as queen to make political decisions. You need to leave that with your father and Erik." Oshana said rolling her eyes.

"Listen, I'm really not in the mood to go back and forth with you right now. Dad whenever your free, please." she said looking at her father.

"Of course."

"Well since queens are being involved in politics now, I demand to be there for this conversation." she said standing up as Imani groaned. "Don't catch an attitude now. You're not even the Queen yet. That title still belongs-"

"Still belongs to you whatever. If you are that pressed fine. You can sit." she gave her dad one last glare before returning back to her room.

"I honestly can't with that disrespectful little girl. How dare she speaks to me that way." she snaps at her husband as Amarah budded in.

"I would never speak to you like that, yet you give her this grand opportunity." Amarah said annoyed.

Later that evening, the three of them sat in his office.

"For started Erik and I thought it would be necessary for us to higher a manger and publisits. This way, we can control any information that is leaked through the public." she started off as her father looked at her confused.

"We don't have publisits and we are fine." her father said.

"I know father, but these are different times that we live in. Any tiny bit of information that leaks out whether it's the marriage or the vibranium supply that we have here, we need to control it." she stated. "We are trending right now, and by my calculations may be trending until we are married. With this, plus the uproar about vibranium we need to have a tight security on what is put out on the internet. It's not just Wakanda or Oshana that we have to worry about at this point, it's the whole world now." she convinced him.

Her father didn't want to show it in her face, but damn was he proud. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that he could depend on his daughter to run things smoothly, but he just couldn't depend on her... is it because she is a woman. Or is because she is young. Maybe it's both.

"And what does Prince N'Jadaka have to say."

"He believes that we should have some control over the media in America too. This may be doing interviews, or working with officials but we cannot let them get the chance to over step us and take our natural resources away like they have any other country." she stated as he nodded.

"This could be a proposition that we make with the council. I trust your judgement daughter." she nodded before continuing.

"So, I don't know if you have read their political news lately but they are already having conversations about trading with us instead of Wakanda." Imani started off. "Even though Wakanda signed the Sokoivia Accords, they aren't giving up their vibranium and I don't think neither should we." she said.

"I agree." he said but his wife cut her off.

"I don't see why not. Vibranium is expensive and we can make money off of the trade. " Imani closed her eyes before saying,

"It's not about the money Oshana. It's about the distrust of deadly materials being handed over to the Americans. It's the dangers of Vibranium getting to outsiders." she said as Oshana groaned.

"Girl you're acting like America is going to go on a killing rampage. If we trade with them, this will result in them not overstepping our boundaries and making money at the same time. Is that not the goal?"

"No, it's not." she snapped at her. "Look, I know you are new to this but when I say trading with the Americans for the most deadly substance would be the downfall of this country, it will destroy us." she stated.

"You let them have just a bit of vibranium, they are going to keep asking for it, and asking for more. And when we either say no, or we can no longer provide it because we are emptied out, then what. Because the last time I checked I don't see America trying to rebuilding the countries that they have stolen violable resources from. They will leave us bone dry. And don't even get me started on the accords. We did not sign it, so that gives them any other reason to put a target on us." she stated looking at her. "Do you even know what the accords is?" she asked her as her mother looked at her father for back up.

"But with the money that-"

"Do you know what Sokovia Accords are?" she repeated herself but her step-mother was silent. She looked to her dad.

"And you thought bringing her in here was a smart idea. Tuh." she chuckled shaking her head.

"Okay you wait just a minute. Now I have every right to say what I think is better for this country as queen. And I think that idea is dumb as hell."

"Lady you don't know even know what the Sokovia Accords are. Do you not know that if we express to them hey we have vibranium and would like to trade, we will most likely not even make any money from it all. Because it goes against the One Nation." she stated to her.

"Then just sign the-"

"Father please stop this nonsense." she looked at her father. "I can not sit down and have a proper argument with someone who doesn't even know what she's talking about. All she see's is dollar signs." she rolled her eyes.

"That is far from my truth!"

"You literally just said and I quote 'Vibranium is expensive and we can make money off of the trade'. That is as close as your truth then I don't what." she responded back as her father stood.

"Enough! The both of you!" he yelled at the two of them. "Daughter, I hear you and I am listening. I've told you before I trust your judgement. We will discuss this further more with N'Jadaka." she smiled but then it dropped when he said, "Further more any decision that is made will still go through me and your step mother as we are your king and queen. I will also take into consideration what she has to say also." he stated as her eye twitched. "Understood?"

"Yes my king." Imani mumbled under her breath. Her looked at Oshana.

"Yes beloved king." She bowed her head at him.

Oshana entered her daughters room, closing the door. "Well how was it?" Amarah asked sitting up from her bed.

"She's as stupid as her damn mother." Oshana spat out sitting on the bed. "They will not trade with America over some foolishness. Does she not realize how much money we would receive."

"She probably doesn't understand. America needs to know we are willing to trade with them." Amarah said. That's when a thought came to the queens head.

"Pack your stuff. We are going to America."

______________________________________

Erik stood in front of the mirror completing his last set of bicep curls. His mind racing with everything that has happened in the last few weeks, but his mind started to drift off at the thought of Princess Imani.

The way she walked, her confidence, the way she talked, the way she could take control of a room. As bad as he didn't want to admit it, he was definitley crushing on the princess. Even finding solace in the idea that they will eventually become King and Queen.

But his thoughts overwhelmed him with the thought that those feelings were not mutual. She was pretty adamant on keeping it strictly business where as she was doing what she had to do for her country. But there was no foul rules on getting her to accept him.

He was deep in thought on how to win her over when he heard his phone ring. Answering it thinking that it was her since everyone he knew communicated through their bracelets, he answered it.

"Hello?" he answered putting the weight down.

"Prince N'Jadaka has a name ring to it." the girl said on the other end. It most definitely wasn't Imani.

"Who's this?"

"Wow, so you move and become prince and forget about me?" Immediately he recognized the voice.

Arianna Cope.

His sneaky link when he was back in the states. They fucked on occasion, not really making any moves past just wanting to fuck each other. Well that was until he caught feelings. Wanting more with her than just a fuck, she laughed in his face. That was the last time he spoke to her.

"Ohh." he chuckled. "Thought you lost my number."

"Eh, I never deleted it to be honest." the girl chuckled on the other end. "I seen your new little girlfriend. She's cute."

"Beautiful isn't she."

"Bet her daddy gotta lot of money." she laughed as Erik laughed too.

"Yeah.. but she got her own too." he said walking around the gym. He wasn't going to lie, he did like her. A lot. And really did miss her a lot. But he didn't want to mess up any chances of being King. He wasn't letting no hoe or bitch get in his way.

"You always went for the girls with big dreams huh. She got you over here trending and shit. Everybody been hitting me up about you... about us." she trailed off the last part. He closed his eyes looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah well... there ain't no real us is there." he responded as she sighed. "You made that known long ago."

"That don't mean I didn't miss you." she said. Their was a long pause before she spoke again. "You still there?"

"Yeah, just thinking."

"About me, I hope."

"I was." he bluntly said. "But not in the way you were thinking."

"Boy please, don't be acting all brand new now that you got some royal blood in you and some royal pussy." she scoffed with a laugh.

"Nah I ain't acting brand new, but you are." he laughed. "You laughed in my face when I wanted to be with you. This could have easily been you, living in a palace. Anything you ever wanted and needed and you missed that opportunity. " he was lying his ass off, but he just wanted to flex on her.

"Mhm, I still got love for you though. You know that."

"I'm sure you do." he looked up and saw T'Challa walking in. "Aye look though, I gotta bounce. I appreciate the call though." he said.

"No problem. Call me soon , okay."

"Yeah.. I'll see about that."

_______________________

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#Erik Killmonger #Erik Stevens #n'jadaka #Wakanda #Wakanda forever #black panter #gold jaguar

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