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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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I Don’t Care // Mafia!Stuck x fem!reader

Summary: Request on AO3: 'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, threesome, dom/sub, fluff/comfort, period sex, mentions of blood, description of cramps, daddy kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, choking, multiple orgasms, intense, cockwarming, overprotective, possessive behaviour, size different, praise kink

Words: 5.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Mother nature had decided to curse your life today. Every 28 days without fail, your period would be an inconvenience but never to this extent, praying to whatever god was listening to save you from the excruciating waves of pain ripping through your uterus. Not only this, but it was affecting your entire body, feeling drained with fatigue, nauseous and a migraine slowly creeping through your temple.

You were mentally officially done with the day, and thankfully the anticipated meeting with Johann Schmidt was finished and successfully had gone according to plan, which meant no murders and happy handshakes to new beginnings. There were a few relaxed moments after waving them off and you were rushing to the toilet, needing to just sit and mentally process how you were going to survive the rest of the day.

Even though everyone was preparing to leave, there was still food shopping that needed to be completed which was a chore in of itself. Having to buy food for two grown men that ate triple the amount of any normal person was energy draining but now only this, in the evening, to celebrate the new partnership, Steve was taking the two groups to the fanciest restaurant in town.

Groaning, you doubled over in pain as you sat on the toilet, wishing to stay here instead or maybe, cuddled up on the sofa with Bucky and Steve but no, life wasn’t this simple, you’d need to suck it up and get on with the day and hoped it passed by quickly and at least the meeting was over.

Deciding to face the music, you finished using the bathroom, splashing some cool water on your face before exiting, only to come face to face with Bucky who was leaning against the wall, staring at the watch on his wrist.

“Good timing mama, another 30 seconds and I would have been coming in there. Didn’t think it was appropriate to be rushing into the female toilets but you’ve been a while”. Smiling softly at him, you walked over, watching as he extended his arms to pull your body against his chest.

“Overprotective Oaf, can’t a girl go to the toilet anymore without being timed”, you sarcastically mumbled into his shirt, taking a deep breath of his expensive cologne, and leaning into his unnaturally warm body.

“Wow oaf is a new one, thanks Doll”, he retorted but could feel his smile as he rested his mouth against the top of your head, his arms circling your shoulders. “I don’t usually time you in the toilet either, just worried was all, no offence but you’re looking a little peaky today”.

You could have stayed in that one spot all day, his gigantic body just completely dwarfing yours, like a boyfriend cocoon. This was until another cramp ripped through your abdomen, causing you to tense and scrunch your face to stop from audibly shouting. Bucky felt the change, his arms squeezing you tighter before easing himself back so he was able to cup your face, thumb stroking against your cheek.

“That bad, huh?”

“A little yeah. It’s fine, I’m due some pain relief now anyway, I’ll be ok”, it was a lie of course but you didn’t want to worry him or Steve, if it wasn’t obvious, they could be a little dramatic when it came to your welfare. Not that it wasn’t appreciated, but it was only food shopping and a meal then tomorrow, you could all stay in bed if that was what you wanted.

“You’re a bad liar”, he remarked, tilting your face up, capturing your lips in a tender kiss that had you momentarily forgetting about the pain, until a burning hot pain sparked through your head. It almost took your breath away more than the kiss, so much so you had to pull back and take a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you could do this.

“Come on Buckaroo, let’s get going”. Bucky didn’t say another word but kept his cool metal hand around yours, leading back to the car where Steve was waiting in the back. Bucky held the door open for you and then climbed into the passenger seat, next to Sam who was driving.

“Everything ok?” Steve asked you softly as you fastened your seat belt, his hand resting against your thigh which was only an invitation for you to cuddle into his muscular arm, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah”, you responded softly, trying to keep your composure and not flinch as dizziness rocked your body as the car began to drive.

Bucky shifted in his seat before turning, offering you a bottle of water and some pain relief. Offering your thanks, you swallowed the pills with half of the bottle of water, hoping it would also settle the nauseous sensation in your stomach. Leaning back into Steve’s arm, he turned to kiss your temple.

“Where to Boss?” Sam asked Steve.

“Home please, Wilson”.

“Wait no, Sam could you please take us to the store, we still need to go shopping, remember?”

Your eyes flicked between Steve and Sam as the latter looked back at Steve in the rear-view mirror, waiting for confirmation. “Baby, let’s just go home, you need to get some rest”.

Rolling your eyes, you tried to play it off, “I’m fine, and we need to go today we have absolutely nothing in the cupboard, it won’t take us long”. The last part of your sentence was more a hope for you and even though you’d love nothing more than to go home if you didn’t go food shopping today then you’d be forced to go tomorrow and there was no way you were leaving the house tomorrow.

Steve didn’t say anything, only nodded at Sam for him to continue to the shop, the hand against your thigh squeezed but you weren’t paying attention, closing your eyes to stop the nauseous sensation.

It didn’t take long to get to the store and once inside, you gave Bucky the duty of drink refills and Steve fresh fruit and vegetables whilst you’d go to the tin aisle and load up the shopping cart there.

Whilst walking up the second aisle, one of the worst cramps you’d ever experienced destroyed your insides. You could feel the contraction of your uterus, the pain so much that you had to double over and lean against the shelves, biting your lower lip to refrain from moaning in pain, aware that there were still other people shopping and didn’t want too many odd looks.

Trying to concentrate on your breathing, you’d squeezed your eyes so tight that now you were beginning to feel even dizzier, it was an endless cycle of pain.

A warm hand was suddenly easing under your head and shoulder, helping to turn your body until it was leaning into the much bigger and more comforting body of Bucky. You could smell his aftershave before he was even touching you. “Shh that’s it, lean into my body, I’ve got you. Keep taking those deep breaths, the pain will fade”. His words were softly whispered into your ear as he held his metal hand against the back of your head and the other massaged your lower back.

Even though you were hoping to keep up the strong exterior and play off that your period cramps were not as bad as they were, you could not deny the way Bucky and Steve treated you had the butterflies flying in your stomach.

Bucky was right, the pain did begin to fade to a dull ache that left you feeling uncomfortable but able to stand back up and resume shopping. “Sor-” you began but your boyfriend was quick to cut off your words.

“Don’t apologise, never apologise to me”, his sincerity was pulling at your heartstrings, and unsure why tears were suddenly springing to your eyes so you quickly looked to the floor to hide them.

“I hate being on my period, messing with my emotions, do you have to be so nice?” you tried to joke, causing Bucky to chuckle softly and kiss your temple once more, always so affectionate.

Another hand joined your spine, rubbing up and down as Steve stepped behind you, his breath fanning across your cheek as he gave you a quick peck before his spare hand lifted to capture the tears that were dripping down your cheeks.

“Go back to the car baby girl, we’ll finish this” Steve encouraged, keeping his voice low. With your position between the two mafia members, you’d momentarily forgotten that you were in the middle of a store, and not in a little private bubble but with the size of their bodies, you basically were.

Hastily wiping away the remaining tears, you tried to regain some energy, “no it’s ok, I can carry on and neither of you knows what we need to buy anyway”.

Steve smirked down at you, “I’m sure we can manage and if we forget anything major, we’ll just send Sam to come and get it for us”.

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! Now please go back to the car”, Bucky gave you a little nudge in the direction of the exit. You laughed at them both, they always managed to make you smile, even if it was for a brief second.

“Everything ok, boss lady?” Sam asked nicely as you climbed into the car as he sat waiting in it.

You were exhausted, lying across the back of the seats, automatically pulling your knees up to your chest like a ball, finding the position that helped most with the cramps, facing the back seat so Sam couldn’t see your face. “Yeah, just need a little break”.

It seemed your ordeal wasn’t over just yet as the next wave of cramps continued, and now in the comfort of the car, even with Sam, you couldn’t hold back gasps of agony.

Unaware of how much time had passed but soon the car was being filled with shopping bags and Steve was helping you to sit up, thumbs brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again. “Let’s get you home”, he nodded to Sam as you fell back into the same position as before, but instead of resting his hand on your thigh, he lifted your top, unbuttoning your jeans to give him access to your abdomen.

Steve and Bucky, as well as being able to eat the same amount as a small village, ran at unnatural temperatures so as his warm fingers began to massage to pained area, you couldn't help but release a relieved groan.

As you returned home, you felt completely drained, limping to the toilet to try and feel refreshed as the boys emptied the car of the groceries which you were thankful for, even going as far as to empty the bags.

It was Steve’s turn to stand guard outside the toilet but unlike Bucky, he didn’t wait for you to be in there for a specific amount of time before knocking. “Can I come in?”

“I don’t think you want to see this right now”, you shouted softly to him, cleaning yourself up quickly before flushing the toilet. After washing your hands and splashing some more cool water onto your face, you exited the toilet to find him smiling kindly down at you, waiting patiently.

“You know I don’t care about those kinds of things”, he reminded you, holding out a hand for you to hold.

You accepted it, loving the feeling of his rough large fingers compared to yours as he slowly pulled you in the direction of the couch in the living room. “Yes I know that but it’s particularly bad today” you referred to your heavy flow. Neither Steve nor Bucky was at all phased by your period, reminding you on countless occasions that they are surrounded by blood a lot for their job and this was different, it was you, it was natural and all they wanted to do was help you.

“Again, I don’t care, honey”, he gently eased the two of you down, making sure that your legs were thrown over his two muscular thighs, head on his shoulder so that he could rest his cheek against you, his facial hair tickling your forehead slightly. Not that you cared as his arms encircled you, one supporting around your back, keeping your body against his, and the other rested on your abdomen again, continuing with the massaging.

Groaning with relief, your face nuzzled into him closer, hand gripping his crisp white shirt, creasing it slightly but neither of you cared. “That feels so good”, you praised him.

“Close your eyes, get some rest”.

This was exactly what you then proceeded to do. Only taking a matter of seconds of being in his heated embrace to fall into a deep sleep. A few hours later you naturally awoke, finding Steve with his eyes closed, for a second you’d suspected he had also fallen asleep but his fingers were still massaging away at your abdomen, even after all this time, surprised that he hadn’t got a hand cramp yet.

Kissing his chin to show that you were awake, your fingers gripped around the arm supporting your body, lifting to look at the time on his watch, seeing that it was nearly the evening.

Pushing on his arm, you attempted to stand but were stopped by his grip tightening, keeping you in his lap. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get changed, we’re leaving soon”, your voice cracked from having just woken up, fingers brushing your eyes to wipe some of the tiredness away.

“That’s not happening anymore”, he casually remarked, undoing his top button.

“What do you mean it’s not happening? It needs to happen, Johann made it very clear earlier that this needed to happen.”

Steve casually shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll deal with it, now relax, I was comfortable”.

You were dumbfounded by his confidence, your anxiety couldn’t cope when he was like this, it was much easier to just go for this meal than to try and sweet talk Johann around again. Trying and failing again to stand, you released a heavy sigh. “Steve please, I’ll be fine, it won’t take us long”.

It was at this time that Bucky returned, a towel around his neck and nothing on but his sneakers and a pair of training shorts, having come from the gym in the basement. You couldn’t help but look over his toned abs, littered with contrasting scars from his time in the Rogers mafia. “How are you feeling now?” He asked, taking a seat in the chair next to the couch.

“Better thank you. Can you tell him that we need to start getting ready soon? He’s come up with the disastrous plan to cancel dinner with Johann”.

Bucky sat back casually, the muscles in his abs flexing slightly, once again drawing your attention before you looked back into his smug blue eyes. “Firstly, I can’t tell the boss to do anything and you know that and secondly, I’ve already sent the message to cancel, so no changing it now”.

You moved around on Steve’s lap so that you could properly face the blonde who was watching you with casual arrogance knowing he had got his way or no way at all. “Why would you do that?”

“You know why I did that”, his voice remained calm as his eyes searched your face so you sat further back onto his knees and that’s when you felt it, something hadn’t felt right since waking up and this was it.

Glancing down, you noticed a dark patch on his navy dress trousers from where you’d been sitting. In your rush to leave the bathroom, you must have placed the pad in at the wrong angle on your underwear, and now you’d leaked onto your boyfriend's lap. Steve looked down, his face remaining the same, calm and confident.

“It’s ok”, his hands lifted to stroke your upper arms but you brushed them off. Your entire body seemed to heat up as the embarrassment set in.

“I’m..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t baby, it’s fine”, his casualness about the situation didn’t help your panic as you pushed off of his chest to stand, knees wobbling slightly as the inkling of another wave of cramps threatened to start from the sudden movement.

“Be careful mama, it’s ok-”, Bucky tried to reach for you now but you were so embarrassed, needing to get away from both of them for a minute, racing up the stairs as your heart pounding in your chest. Finally getting to the master bedroom, you were able to lock yourself in the ensuite toilet, taking off your now blood-stained jeans and underwear, cursing again at mother nature for letting her add to the list of bad things that had happened that day.

Now you were in the bathroom, you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You didn’t have a change of clothes and you couldn’t go back out there because, by the sounds of it, both men had followed you up the stairs and probably getting changed. Your cheeks burst with heat at the thought of Steve’s ruined trousers.

Maybe you could take a bath or a shower, which sometimes helped with the pain but you weren’t able to decide as your uterus contracted with another cramp and it was probably the worst one yet. A deep groan slipped from your lips as you doubled over, leaning your forehead against the countertop, knees straining to keep you from collapsing to the floor and crawling into a ball.

The door handle turned as you made the pained noise, but seeing as you had locked the door, it didn’t open and therefore was swiftly followed by a knock. “If you don’t open this door right now, I’m breaking it down.”

Rolling your eyes at the possessive tone in Steve’s voice, you hobbled over to the bathroom door, clicked the lock and walked back to face your shame, standing in nothing but your shirt and bra.

What you hadn’t anticipated was Steve walking over the threshold and within one step was cupping your jaw, tilting your head back and kissing you fiercely enough that it took your breath away. It took a moment of shock to wear off before your hands gripped onto his wrists, holding him close, kissing him back with as much passion. Even trying to reach onto your tip toes to get closer.

Steve was quick to discard your shirt and bra, so fast you hadn’t even realised he was undoing the buttons until the cool air coated your skin. Pulling back from the kiss as his tongue teased, you pushed against his chest, “Steve wait-”

The mafia boss did not wait. No, he had his own idea in mind as his mouth was back onto yours, body pushing back until your lower back found the cool countertop behind. In another second, his hands were gripping the back of your thighs, lifting you until your bare arse was sitting on the side.

This truly snapped you out of the lust-filled trance he had captured you within. Pushing once more against his chest, your face dropped down so he couldn’t distract you with his devilish tongue. “Steve stop, I’m not wearing any underwear, I need to put a pad on or something.”

It wasn’t Steve who responded but Bucky who was watching at the door, now in a pair of joggers and an old t-shirt, casually leaning against the door frame. He was chuckling as he admired your body. “When are you going to get it Doll, we really and I mean, REALLY, don’t care about that stuff”.

Steve moved his seduction tour to your neck, leaving open-mouth kisses sending shivers through your spine as he inched his way up to the shell of your ear. “What am I going to have to do to make you understand that I don’t care about a little bit of blood, my love”.

You glanced down at the patch on his trousers, biting your lip before reminding him, “but I’ve ruined your trousers, and you’ve had to cancel the dinner because of me”.

Steve finally leaned back, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your thighs as his own blue eyes flicked between yours. “I’ve cancelled the dinner today because you’re in pain and I’m not going to force you to dress up in clothes that won’t make you feel comfortable or leave the comfort of your own home just for a fucking meal with Johann Schmidt. My trousers, they’re replaceable, they don’t mean shit to me, but you know what does? You. So please explain to me what I need to do for you to get into that beautiful brain of yours, what I can do to show that I really couldn’t give a shit about a little bit of blood”.

He always knew the right things to say, enough that you had to once again hide your face to hide the tears.

Your boyfriend had other ideas however as his hand teased up the sensitive part of your inner thighs. You knew his intended destination and reached out quickly to grip his wrist, stopping him, looking up with wide eyes, his words already forgotten about.

“Steve wait, I’m bleeding-”

He tilted his head in a knowing look, pushing easily against your grip until his fingers delved into your folds, brushing against your clit. You gasped, bodily jolting slightly. Steve lifted his other hand, wrapping it around your throat, pushing back until your body rested against the wall-length mirror.

“What did I say? I don’t care about a little bit of blood, now. Open”.

His tone went straight to your core, he rarely ordered things from you as your submissive tendencies meant you were rushing to do them anyway but with your anxiety holding you back, he decided to use his authority which instantly sent you into a horny mess.

“Yes sir”, you responded a moment later, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that he undoubtedly felt beneath his fingertips at your throat, as you opened your legs wider to him, giving him better access.

“Good girl”, the praise was like music to your ears as you were forced to watch his face as his fingers began slipping further down until at your entrance, not wasting any time to slip two fingers in. You moaned loudly, swapping to hold onto the wrist that was holding your neck, not choking, just making sure you didn’t look away from him. His movements were slow, inching in and out, making sure not to hurt you.

You had to admit, that it felt odd, knowing that the wetness that could be felt wasn’t your normal juices but in face period blood and with the cramping, it wasn’t the most comfortable but as his fingers began to curl, increasing your pleasure, the pain reduced.

“Listen to me closely”, he continued. “You are going to watch as I fuck you with my fingers until you’re cumming. Then as I’m fucking you, Bucky over there is going to heat the shower and all three of us are getting in and he can then decide what he’d like to do with you there, do you understand?”

Your cunt was clenching violently around his fingers at his demands, of which every single one you wanted, too lost in the thought of his fingers curling into that beautiful spot within. “Yes sir!”

“That’s my girl”, he praised with a small smile now etched on his face as his thumb began stroking gently against your eagerly awaiting clit. There was now only a jumble of moans and mewls leaving your mouth now as your hips began rolling against his hand, chasing your high. As stated before, with each passing minute, as the pleasure increased, all the cramping began to cease until it was a recent memory.

“Open a little wider baby,” he encouraged and your legs spread automatically giving him more room to add a third finger. Your eyes dropped to his wrist, the sight scaring you for a minute as a dribble of blood was nearly the white sleeve of his shirt but with a quick squeeze to your throat, you glanced up as he leaned closer, his breath tickling your face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

“Fuck!” you cursed, riding his hand harder, gripping his wrist tighter, inching closer and closer to your orgasm. The addition of his third finger made your walls stretch to their limit, feeling full of his long, thick fingers and his thumb pressed harder.

You were about to open your mouth and ask if you could cum but Steve could already feel the tightening grip of your cunt, “cum for me, that’s it, good girl”.

Steve’s praises were always the most perfect sounding words from his gruff voice and your orgasm was suddenly pulsing through your entire body. If it wasn’t for his grip around your throat, you were sure you’d fall into his chest but he held you there firmly, not restricting your airways but just having control over your body.

He didn’t waste a second, using his blood-soaked hands to undo his belt and zipper, easing his cock out and then dragging your hips towards the edge of the countertop. Lifting your legs to rest on his hips, Steve’s cock pulsed as he eased it between your slit, breathing your entrance slowly.

“Please, please daddy!” you gasped out, losing all sense of control, needing to feel him now. Steve chuckled at the nickname, knowing your horniness was bringing out your submissiveness. To treat you well, he pushed his cock into your cunt in one quick thrust, causing your body to jolt to the side.

He held that position and in the background, you could just make out the sound of the shower being turned on by Bucky. Not that you were focused on that right now as Steve adjusted his position. With his red-stained hand, he gripped your hip in place whilst the other hand still held onto your throat, his mouth dipping so he could wrap his lips around your left nipple, sucking it fiercely into his mouth, biting on it gently before releasing.

At the same time, he began to ease his cock out of you, nice and slowly so that your walls dragged around him before slapping back in again. Steve teased both of your nipples, licking around the areola before sucking them back into his mouth.

Your entire body was alight with warmth and pleasure, every thrust was powerful and breathtaking and his wicked tongue had you almost seeing stars with how hard it was making your cunt clench.

“You’re doing so good for me baby” Steve complimented as he swapped breasts, the nipples now being slightly puffy from being sucked on. “Seeing you this desperate, I don’t think I’m going to last very long”, he admitted, but you didn’t care, you were already sensing the change in your body as the tautness in your abdomen increased.

Steve did too and released your nipple, only to kiss you fiercely, it was mostly tongue and teeth, trying to dominate your mouth leaving you even more breathless and dizzy. Just as you were able to orgasm, your hand gripped around the bigger hand holding your neck, squeezing it slightly and he understood the message.

His fingers gripped ever so slightly harder, making it a little bit more difficult to breathe, just as you came hard. Your walls clamped down around his cock so strongly that he too came, surprising himself as he shouted your name, hunching over your body and releasing your throat just as the waves began to calm down. You sucked in the air greedily, body almost completely limp from being fucked so hard and being in the same position for so long.

Your eyes felt heavy as Steve kissed along your throat where his fingers had been, softly caressing the area, distracting you from his cock slipping out of your sensitive entrance. Risking a glance down, it was a mess, where his hands had been were red hand prints and his clothes were ruined but at that moment, you couldn’t care at all.

Steve stood back, catching your eye, “I love you”, he whispered, sweetly kissing your lips delicately, almost like he was scared to hurt you even though he’d just been fucking the life out of you.

“I love you too” you responded softly, tiredness evident in your tone.

Steve finally moved away, unbuttoning his ruined shirt which allowed Bucky to take his place, now standing completely naked, his cock proudly hard between his legs. Gently, he lifted both of your legs around his waist, locking your ankles before moving your arms around his neck, his metal arm easing beneath your arse and his flesh arm around your back as he lifted you.

“Feel like another round?” Bucky’s jokingly asked with a soft smile, kissing your cheek and you mewled in response, trying to slip further down his body so that his tip bumped into your cunt. “Hold on, mama”, and with that, he gently eased his veined cock into your warm pussy, before walking into the warm shower that had you melting into his embrace.

The two of you stood there for a couple of minutes, he didn’t thrust, knowing that’s not what you needed right now, just letting you feel full up at the warmth from the water to ease your used muscles, it was perfect.

“Want you”, your voice oozed desperation as you lazily kissed up his neck, clenching slightly around his member as your arousal began to peak, needing to feel the drag of his cock..

“I want you to but I think someone tired you out”. You groaned, frowning at his words but putting no effort into moving, feeling too lazy and fucked out of your mind so decided on a different tactic.

“But I’d feel so much better if you fucked me too”.

Bucky laughed as Steve joined the two of you in the shower, luckily it was purposefully built so that the overhead shower covered all three of you.

“Are you trying to manipulate me into fucking you, sweet mama?” Bucky asked against your shoulder.

Smiling against his skin, you tried to act nonchalant, “no I’d never do that”.

As you finished your sentence, your back eased against the shower wall as Bucky held you there, readjusting his arms slightly to grip your hips, his face now hovering over yours, a cheeky smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, I’m sure you would never do that”, he sarcastically responded as he began to roll his hips, thrusting his cock very slowly in and out of you.

Once again, these men knew you so well, thankful for the slow speed as your cunt constricted harshly around him with how sensitive it was. It felt so good as he took his time, holding you close, every part of your body touching his as Steve washed behind him, smiling at the sound of your desperate noises.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky asked, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Yes sir, you feel so good”.

Bucky kept up those long slow paces for a while, Steve even began to grow hard again and found himself wanking off watching the two of you. Every thrust of Bucky’s cock had a pathetic mewl or moan escaping you, it was perfect as you held desperately to his shoulders, lazily kissing him until the sensation changed.

“I need to cum sir” you quickly breathed out but Bucky had other plans.

“Not just yet mama, you’ve got to hold it for me”. Your eyes filled with panic, looking at his as your brow furrowed, mouth gaping open.

“I- I can’t”.

“Yes you can, you’re a good girl and only good girls cum when they’re supposed to, just a little bit longer”. You could have cried as you gripped harder to his muscles, probably painfully so but he never said anything, just continued with the same slow fucking. You tried to relax your muscles and distract yourself from him but his cock was hitting all the right spots and it didn’t help matters when Steve suddenly grunted from behind Bucky as he came, his cum spurting out and into the water.

“Please!” you had to plead now, closing your eyes as the feeling of orgasm was so overwhelming.

Bucky grunted loudly and you could feel his cock pumping inside of you as he finally agreed, “yes, cum for me!” and at the same time snapped his hips hard into you. Your whole body went rigid, cunt uncontrollably pulsing around him in waves of utter perfection.

It took a couple of seconds to calm down, Bucky’s half-limp dick sliding out and a gush of Steve and Bucky’s cum followed, now tainted pink by your period but you definitely didn’t care anymore.

Thankfully, Bucky wasn’t just ready to put you down but you would have most likely just sat on the floor, not trusting that your legs were strong enough to hold your weight. So both Ssteve and Bucky helped to wash your body with soap, being careful of the sensitive area between your legs before turning off the water and stepping out.

Whilst Bucky and you were first in the shower, Steve had cleaned up the mess on the countertop and had prepared a fresh pad, underwear and pyjamas for you to get into afterwards. As the three of you climbed into bed, you could honestly say you’d never felt this cosy before on your period.

Laying your head against Bucky’s chest, Steve sat beside you and scrolled through his phone, reading to order some takeout. The second-in-command kissed along your hairline, his fingers locking with yours as he asked, “how's the pain now?”

“It still aches but it’s a lot better than it was, thank you”.

Steve leaned over and kissed the back of your shoulder, “good, I think we should make this a monthly occasion”.

Your used cunt clenched at that thought and you had to bite your lip from moaning, taking a deep breath before turning to look at him, “me too”.

#ngl i loved writing this one #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky oneshot #stucky smut #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mafia au #mine*

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cherry-leclerc · 4 months

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i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

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runningfrom2am · 7 months

Text

leveling the playing field V

summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k (she's long today DAMN)

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and discussion of abuse, so read with caution!!

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a/n: head empty, no thoughts. only this fic. but i should say if you enjoy it please reblog!! it means so much to us as writers, and who knows! maybe one of your mutuals is missing out on their future favourite fic ;)

next part

You're about to walk out the door, heading to the academy to meet Coryo before the games start. To try and prepare as best you can.

"Y/N, wait." Your dad stops you as you reach for the handle, and you quickly turn to him.

"Yes?" You know better than to rush him, but you already were running slightly behind schedule.

"Good luck today." He says and you nod at him.

"Thank you."

"And don't let Coriolanus down." There it is. "He is helping you, he didn't have to do that. Don't ruin this for him. If he needs anything, get it for him. If he tells you to jump, ask how high. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." You nod, a pit forming in your stomach. The pressure was on, not that it wasn't already, but now it was so much more real.

"Now, hurry up. Don't keep him waiting." He dismisses you, and you don't have to be told twice.

When you reach the academy, you rush inside. You were always rushing places, these days. The building was almost deserted, it was still quite early, but only two minutes until the time you agreed to meet Coryo in the courtyard. The Games were set to start in just under three hours, and you weren't sure what you would fill that time with, but that is what he asked of you so that is what you will do.

The last you had seen him was only about four or so hours ago, when he walked you home after stopping at the zoo to bring Lucy Gray the arena layout and he gave her a compact. One she promised to give back after the games, after crying over what today would bring. You felt bad, but mostly because you felt it was somewhat inconvenient that she would waste time over tears when you had important information for her on where to go and how to hide. This was valuable to her. Every moment counted if she wanted to walk out of the arena alive.

You spot Coryo pacing the courtyard through the window before you push it open, stepping out onto the path as the cool air brushes over your skin. It was July, but the mornings were still crisp.

"Sorry I'm almost late, I-"

"It's okay." He interrupts you as you get closer. He really only wanted you there for company, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in this time anyway. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, if a little tired." You shrug. "You?"

"Fine." He echoes your answer, just standing there staring at you in the silence. He really wasn't afraid of silence- but you were.

"What about your back? Recovering okay? I have some extra morphing if you're in pain." You offer, already reaching for your bag just for the sake of giving yourself something to do with your hands.

Confusion takes over his features. "Morphling?" He asks, brow furrowed. "Why do you have that on you?"

"Migraines, twisted ankles, cramps..." You answer. "You never know when you'll need some." You hold the small tube out to him, but he shakes his head, pushing your hand down.

He was sore, it wouldn't hurt, but something about taking it from you felt wrong. "No thank you, I'm fine." It would make sense that you would have it, though it was only accessible by prescription. It was likely your dad who prescribed it to you, if only so you could have it on hand. Or because he knows how often you're hurting, or he doesn't want you acting hurt- exposing the irony of having an abusive father who's also the most sought-after doctor in all of the Capitol. Morphling numbs the body, but also the mind. It's highly addictive, expensive to those who could access it, and not for the faint of heart- but you showed no signs of addiction. You must not take it often, therefore there's no real reason for him to be worried.

"Suit yourself." You shrug, tucking the vial away again. "Let me know if you change your mind. We have a long day ahead."

He nods in confirmation, joining you as you sit down on a bench nearby. "What did you give Lucy Gray last night, anyway?"

"A compact?" He feigns confusion, knowing the true implications of your question.

"Duh, Mister President." You tease. "I meant what was in it?"

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He has to answer casually, lest face your anger issues when he shows any guilt about cheating. "Uh, nothing." That wasn't a total lie, he just left out the part where he implied that Lucy Gray could find something within the cage at the zoo that would fit nicely in it, something like rat poison.

"Nothing?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "You just gave her that as a gift?"

"Something like that." He shrugs, and your expression reads as though you're not buying it. "If she happened to find something to put in it, something that could help her, that would be just an unrelated convenience."

You freeze, staring at him in disbelief. "Coryo." You whisper, slapping his shoulder to get him to look at you as you read between the lines. "Something like rat poison? That's cheating! Are you kidding me right now?"

"What?" He defends, sitting up straighter as he looks over at you again. "It's my only shot! If she doesn't win, I can kiss the prize goodbye."

"It's not about her winning, Coriolanus. It's about the efficacy of the mentorship! Dean Highbottom said-"

"Dean Highbottom despises me, winning is the only thing I can do to get him to even glance at my mentorship as an option." He argues and you groan, burying your face in your hands.

He watches you, and suddenly feels regret for his decision. If only because you didn't approve of his actions. "Okay." You sigh, dropping your hands into your lap again and sitting up straighter. "Okay. We can work with it. As long as she is smart about it, we won't get caught. And like you said, we didn't do anything. It was just a gift."

"I warned her. She knows." He assures you. Really, there's no harm done unless you get caught. And should Lucy Gray become the victor, your life plan will fall beautifully into place. It will be worth it, you're ashamed you didn't think of such a thing first.

After everyone else arrived, the two of you decided to make a fashionably late entrance, walking into the newly decorated hall, containing many students and professors alike, the large screens against the back wall displaying all of the remaining tributes and the Hunger Games logo, where the games themselves will be aired. You were excited and scared all at once.

"Y/N, Coriolanus." Dean Highbottom greets you as you enter, taking in the atmosphere. Both of you grace him with just a nod. "I'd advise you to tell your friend Sejanus to find a seat near the door..." He adds quietly before walking off, leaving the two of you confused.

Coryo doesn't seem to think too much about it, just heading down the stairs. You follow behind him, head held high to counteract any of your peer's bitter staring or laughs. Everyone knew you didn't qualify for a mentorship, and to most, you just appeared to be following Coriolanus Snow around like a lost puppy, hoping to get the scraps of his success.

They won't be laughing when you are Head Gamemaker, that's for sure. But even then, will that not also be the scraps of his success? Him appointing you to the job of your dreams after his inauguration, will that not appear to be out of bias or pity? This isn't a question you have time to let bother you. Your future starts today.

When the games are about to start, you follow Coryo over while he decides which desk to take, deciding on one in the back row close to where you will be sitting. "Good luck." You grin, placing a hand on his forearm.

He looks down at where your hand is brushing over his coat sleeve and he nods.

You get closer, standing on your tip-toes to whisper to him. "Snow lands on top."

A small smile forms on his face. "Snow lands on top." He whispers back, grabbing your hand for only a moment, afraid of the Dean or Dr. Gaul taking notice. That would only serve to get you both in trouble.

You sit in the first row of benches where Coryo can see you, can easily look to you for help. He's grateful to have you in his peripheral, knowing that you're there, and you're not leaving, is what he didn't realize he really needed.

You both watch silently as the tributes walk out to their designated spots surrounding the pile of rubble in the center of the arena. You were there just last night, but now it looks scarier- even in the light of day. Maybe it's because you know what you are about to witness. All you can do is hope Lucy Gray won't be the first down.

Your heart drops into your stomach when the camera pans to show Sejanus's tribute- the one who escaped, hung from a beam by both his wrists. It's hard to look at, and along with the gasps that echo through the hall and Lucky's commentary, you hear a chair scraping and your eyes land on Sejanus, who's now standing in the middle of the room. He's seething, you can see it in the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest and in the contraction of seemingly every muscle in his body. That's what Dean Highbottom meant- he knew Sejanus would be leaving quickly. You stand as well, your intuition telling you he won't be leaving quietly. Neither would you, if you were in his place.

In a second, Sejanus is throwing his desk and everything on it at the large screen in front of him, screaming in anger. "You're all monsters!"

You find your feet carrying you toward the screaming boy, but he's shoving past you to leave before you get the chance to talk to him. Hug him, something. You stumble back at the contact, able to save yourself from falling as your eyes follow Sejanus out the door.

Coryo saw you get knocked back by the force of Sejanus's misplaced rage, and he wanted to check on you. Make sure you are okay, but the games are about to start. He promised Dr. Gaul that you would receive no sympathies from him, and her eyes are burning into both of your backs so he settles for shaking his head at you when you look like you want to follow Sejanus. Doing so would not only leave him alone, but sympathizing with him would align you with his attitudes, however irrelevant to your own opinions.

"Y/N." Coryo says to you, and when you look at him he shakes his head. Stay, he's saying. It's like he can read your mind. But he needs you to stay.

Surely, Sejanus needs you more. Surely, it would just be a few minutes. Then you remember what your father told you this morning and you smooth your shirt back down, returning to your seat. The games hadn't even started yet, and you're already facing hard decisions.

"You should go home." Coriolanus mutters to you, readjusting his posture in the uncomfortable chair.

"Huh?" You ask, looking up at him from where you're sitting on the floor next to his desk. After everyone else left, there was no use in sitting so far away when you could finally talk candidly about the events of the day.

"Go home." He repeats and you shake your head, attempting to salvage what was left of your hairstyle, which was carefully pinned back this morning.

"I can't, I'll stay. You can go home." You reply, looking up at the screen again. Nothing new had happened in a long time- but you didn't want to miss it if it did.

"Why not?" He yawns.

"My parents are expecting me to stay with you until it's over." You explain.

Coryo sighs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "I'd invite you to stay with me, but we aren't prepared for guests." Neglecting to mention, of course, the unmaintained mess the Snow apartment had turned into over the last twelve or so years.

"Of course, I wouldn't expect that of you. One of us should be here anyway." You wave it off. "Go home, get some rest."

As soon as he's packed up and left, insisting he won't be gone for long, you make yourself comfortable in his chair with your eyes trained on the screen. You have to stay awake. Lucy Gray could make an appearance any second in search of water, food, anything. You have to stay alert. You can't let Coryo down.

You're jolted awake by the sound of gravel crunching under footsteps, echoing over the speakers from microphones inside the arena. Shit. You fell asleep, you weren't supposed to fall asleep. Immediately you're looking for Lucy Gray onscreen, looking for her body, looking for any sign of her but you see none. If there had been a fight, if she had been screaming, that would have woken you up before footsteps did.

You squint to see what's going on, eyes landing on two figures in the middle of the arena, under the beam that Lamina is lying on, still seemingly asleep. The hair on the back of your neck stands up when you realize who the two people are. Sejanus and Coryo. Your friends. Inside the arena, standing over the body of Sejanus's tribute. You recall that one of the female tributes, Lamina, had killed him and cut him down. You suspected that he asked her to- so what were the boys doing in there?

You can't tear your eyes away- what can you even do? They're talking too quietly for the microphones to pick up. Why are they even there? If Coriolanus had planned this he would have told you. This is too reckless, even for him.

You're not helping by sitting and watching. You have to get there.

Abandoning your bag, you walk as fast as you can manage out of the Academy building before making a run for it, heading in the direction of the arena. You don't even have a plan as to what you'll do when you get there. Do you go in? You'll be risking your life without a doubt. You can't risk calling them, you'll practically be summoning the most violent and angry of the tributes right to them, and to you.

When you see the arena, there are people standing outside and several peacekeeper trucks. At least people know.

"What the hell is happening?" You ask, walking up to the first person you see. A peacekeeper.

"You can't be here, Miss. You have to go." They start to push you back and you shove them away by the front of their helmet.

"Don't touch me! My friends are in there and I need to know what's happening right now!" You're trying to keep your voice down, but you need answers- urgently.

"Miss Y/L/N," You hear Dr. Gaul's voice and the peacekeeper lets you go, motioning for you to go over and join her where she is standing with the Dean, and people you recognize as Sejanus's parents are standing by a black vehicle nearby.

"What's going on?" You ask again, firmly as you walk up to the group.

"Sejanus got inside, we don't know who let him in. Coriolanus went in to coax him out."

"What? Why not send peacekeepers? Coriolanus could die in there and you let him go anyway?" It's hard to even believe they would allow a student to walk into harm's way like that. And not just any student, either. Coriolanus Snow.

"If we sent in peacekeepers Sejanus would run. Coriolanus is the only one he would trust so they could leave unnoticed." Dean Highbottom explains.

You scoff, pointing into the gates. "Then why are they still in there?"

"Sejanus is in a difficult place right now, Miss Y/L/N-"

"Yeah. Fuck this." You roll your eyes, taking off your blazer and dropping it on the ground before rolling up your sleeves, and making your way over to the gate.

"Miss Y/L/N, you can't go in there." Dr. Gaul half-heartedly tries to stop you.

"Watch me." You state and the peacekeepers open the gate, letting you in. She must have allowed them to, otherwise they wouldn't.

You're mindful of your steps, trying to be as quiet as possible. You hop over the turnstiles, your landing making the two boys' heads snap toward you.

"It's just me." You whisper, knowing they can't see you in the dark but the large open space will still carry your voice.

"Y/N?" You hear Coryo reply, clearly confused.

"Yeah. We have to go, come on. Come with me."

"Go back!" He hisses. "You can't be here!"

"Neither can you!" Now is not the time for fighting. For once, he needs to listen to you.

He just huffs, turning back to Sejanus, you're assuming to try and talk him down.

"Okay, I've got a plan." You say this time walking back through the bars, triggering the mechanism.

Enjoy the show!

You try not to wince at the loudness of the voice, knowing by now that any nearby tributes must have heard that. If the Coral's pack had heard, clearly being the biggest threat, they'd be here soon so you pick up your pace, running back to the bars that surround the arena in one large circle.

Coryo is calling you to try and get you to stop, to leave, but his whispers don't make it to you anymore.

"Give up?" Dean Highbottom asks you from the other side, and you pick up a large rock from the ground.

"Nope." You shake your head, beginning to walk around the outside, far from the entrance before you start banging it against every bar you walk past. Just for fun, you begin to sing one of Lucy Gray's songs. Maybe, that will be less obvious of a diversion.

When Coriolanus and Sejanus hear the ruckus you're making outside, the banging accompanied by the sound of your voice moving slowly around the outside of the large arena, they look at each other in a mutual panic.

"Sejanus, please. We have to go now." Coriolanus pleads with him, and he looks back down at Marcus for a moment before nodding.

"But we're taking Marcus with us."

"Okay, whatever. Yes." Coriolanus agrees desperately, already grabbing the boy's legs.

They start to carry him toward the exit, picking up pace as they hear that your diversion has worked, echoing voices working their way around the outside of the arena. That's Coryo's primary concern- until they hear what can only be attributed to a war cry from behind them, another tribute with a large knife sprinting after them.

Wordlessly, they both drop Marcus and start to run.

Once you heard what you were sure was Coral's group running up behind you, still out of view, you changed your tune.

"Gem of Panem, mighty city, through the ages you shine anew!"

With this, you hear their confusion and anger increase tenfold, along with their speed.

You start running, dragging the rock along every bar.

"Come back, Capitol Princess! What are you so afraid of?" You hear Coral's familiar voice shout at you, getting closer.

They're laughing now, following you around the outside of the arena. Hopefully, Coryo is out because now it's a race. You're on the opposite side now, and have a long way to go to get back around. You ditch the rock, picking up a full sprint.

You can hear them gaining on you with every step, and you ditch your pride and start to yell about halfway back. "Open the gate!" You scream, hoping someone can hear you, and open it for you to make a quick escape. Every inch you have on the three tributes following you counts, and you're losing that valuable space very quickly. You've never been much of an athlete.

You round the side of the building, seeing the gate partially open, and Coryo is standing there holding a hand out to you. "Y/N/N! Come on!"

As soon as you get close enough he grabs your arm and pulls you through, yanking you back as the peacekeepers slam the gate again in the faces of the tributes. Barbarically they slam their weapons against the bars, making you jump as you crash into Coryo's chest. He's got his arms around you now, holding the back of your head protectively as they eventually give up and walk away, stalking off like a pack of wild animals who had lost their prey; except you don't think they planned on eating you. Just killing you for the fun of it, to leave your family and the city tortured the same way it was over the murder of Arachne Crane.

You're breathing heavily and you can hear your heartbeat pounding in your head, maybe it's his. You can't even really tell.

"You shouldn't have done that." He mumbles to you, gripping onto you as tight as ever. He wants to scold you, tell you that you were too reckless for your own good. That you could have been killed; but he can't. He doesn't care. In this moment, he is only concerned with one thing. "Are you alright?"

You inhale, trying to focus on slowing your laboured breaths as you nod against his shoulder. You couldn't speak, even if you wanted to. You couldn't argue with him and tell him you were only trying to help, and you would argue that you did.

"Coriolanus." Dr. Gaul says, walking up and looking him over. "You'll need stitches, come back with me to my lab." She instructs and he lets you go.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks, pushing your hair back out of your eyes to look at you more clearly. You just nod, biting on the inside of your cheek.

"Fine." You assure him quietly, heart still racing behind your ribs. "Go get stitched up."

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#tbosas #tbosas fic #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo snow #the hunger games #thg #thg fanfiction

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poppadom0912 · 14 days

Text

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #onechicago #chicago med #one chicago fanfiction #chicago med x reader #connor rhodes #connor rhodes oneshot #connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes x sibling #sister reader

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octal-alchemist · 4 months

Text

Want to go on T but hate needles?

I hesitated to start HRT for a long time because of my paralyzing fear of needles, and the stories I heard about testosterone in pill form. However. I'm now 101 days on testosterone!!

Here's my experience with testosterone gel!! (Spoiler: I highly recommend it.)

___________________________________________

At the start, I was applying one pump of gel to each upper arm and using the back of a spoon to spread and rub the gel in (carefully marked "t spoon" and stored with my testosterone gel). I was advised to only use the unbroken skin of my upper arm, and to carefully wash my hands after applying.

(Most side-effects associated with testosterone gel come from accidentally eating it, because most people rub the gel into their arm using their hands. Gel on hands then transfers to mouth. I try to avoid that by applying with a spoon! I do rinse the spoon and wash my hands anyway to be extra safe.)

After rubbing the gel into my arms w the spoon, I held up my arms and walked around T-posing for like ten minutes so that the gel could dry before I put on a shirt.

Initially I wasn't rubbing it in enough with the spoon, and I would see a white film on my skin after drying. Nowadays I rarely see that. The gel smells strongly of alcohol, similar to hand sanitizer, so that's also unpleasant. I've gotten used to it.

For the first week, (and ONLY the first week), I would see a rash appear on my arms after applying the gel. The rash was sudden and painful, but would disappear after 20 minutes. I also experienced two reynaud's attacks while the gel was drying during that first week. (I often have reynaud's attacks when anxious, and it was winter, so I think that's not the gel's fault.)

After that first week I never rashed again, and there haven't been any more reynaud's attacks during application.

What changes have I seen while using t gel?

Voice: After 4 weeks, my voice was noticeably different. Not so much deep, but sort of? wider? and my voice was cracking a lot. In the last 10 weeks it has been becoming smoother, richer, a bit deeper. I absolutely hated my voice four months ago, but now I get a bit of euphoria everytime I hear myself.

Emotions: From weeks 2 to 8, I experienced frequent fits of anger, irritability, crying, and horniness. Very weird to me because I'm usually levelheaded and have no sex drive. However!! in the last six weeks, even though we raised my dose, ive rarely been angry or horny. I also haven't been getting depressed, and increasingly I feel like I can cope with stress. I haven't cried in about five weeks. I spend most of my time feeling content. Every part of me feels better and healthier.

Muscle: I haven't been working out more than usual (oops), but I can see that my arms are becoming more toned. Won't share the photos because they're goofy but I keep doing the 💪 thing at myself while my t gel is drying.

Periods: I have still continued to menstruate regularly, having 3 periods in the last 101 days. My cycles were already on the long side at 35 days. However, those first two periods on T were painless and incredibly short; I bled for two days the first time and 11 hours the second time, and experienced no cramps, no dizziness, no migraines. (The most recent period was two days long but i did have cramps and a migraine T_T. Doc says it's because I raised my dose right beforehand, and I should stop menstruating entirely soon.)

Hair: I already had a bit of scruff on my neck pre-T, but that was mostly just on one side. I now have thick patches of hair under my chin on both sides and the chin itself is starting to fill in. My longest hairs are 5cm but curl. There are coarse hairs appearing by the edge of my lips. I have also noticed that my leg hair is becoming more coarse, and my right nipple has become a forest. Only my right nipple, for some reason! Very few people in my family are bald, but I was still a little worried so I've been keeping track of hair loss on my scalp; however it has been the same amount as usual. Hair still thick.

Blood test results: My pre-T testosterone level was 56. I was told that 2-70 are normal readings for a cis woman. At my 3 month checkup, my testosterone level was 251!! This is still low for a cis man my age (normal is like 650-800), and I wanted a bit more, so the doctor agreed to increase my dose two weeks ago.

Confidence: I am thrilled to see mirrors lately. My jaw seems more defined with the bit of hair to shadow it; my eyes are happier. I keep flirting with myself, partially to hear my own voice. I talk to my students about transitioning, and although a couple have been a bit transphobic, I've been able to laugh about it. I've gone on a couple dates and actually felt attractive and worthy of attention. I feel alive.

Bottomline -

testosterone gel is working wonders for me. I wish I'd known about this nine years ago, when I first tried to go on HRT. Instead, I injected myself with testosterone twice and took myself to the ER over the panic attack I had 🫠 (I don't miss being 19!)

I'm still a stressy motherfucker, and it feels so much safer and more comfortable to apply medicine externally. I know about the dangers of transference, so I apply the gel with a spoon and wear the same long-sleeved shirt throughout the day, careful not to expose others to the gel.

I have so much farther to go, but it actually feels possible now. Easy, even.

If you want to know anything more about this, please, please ask me!! I have anon on, as well!

#testosterone gel #ftm hrt #hormone therapy #non-binary #nonbinary #idk how to tag but i want people to find this. i want it to help #ftx hrt #transmasc #transgender #ask me anything #101 days on testosterone

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jasntodds · 6 months

Text

Petrichor [14]

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

Words: 15,441

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse, description of withdrawal, mentions of scars, jason's self-hatred, hurt/comfort, a little blood

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

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

A/N: Because I decided to start fixing things last chapter, I had to rewrite this entire chapter lmao so I'm sorry it's late!! I also split this chapter into 2 parts because it was over 30k words please help lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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The next morning, Jason shoots awake from a nightmare but outside of the initial panic and rumbling heartbeat he almost feels too accustomed to, he’s confused. His eyes are on the dresser on the opposite wall and it takes him a minute to process how he even got here. The last clear thing he remembers is choking and not being able to breathe because Crane drugged him. Jason sucks in a few breaths, brows pulling together as he shakes the nightmare away and tries to piece together details from last night.

It’s all a little foggy and jumbled but he remembers being duct taped and Crane saying something about destroying the Titans and then you. Then he remembers the pump station, being tied up there. Then, he remembers you completely suited up and your hands on his cheeks, panic in your eyes.

Jason’s heart thunders again, realizing it was you that brought him back here.

You came to find him.

His head feels like it’s going to explode. A migraine is kicking in his skull as if it’s armed with a battering ram. The more he tries to remember details, the more his head hurts but he tries away. And he looks down, realizing he’s not in the Red Hood gear anymore but he has no memory of changing. Something about missing large pieces of time is scary and frustrating. So much could have happened and he just has no memory of it. And he’s thinking something went wrong, maybe he did or said something because you aren’t here and he knows what happened with you two. But, if you showed up to save him, you wouldn’t just leave unless you had a good reason. You’d always stay to make sure he were okay and then you’d probably tell him off and leave. But, you're not here.

What did he do now?

He puts his head in his hands, groaning loudly. His head starts to spin and his stomach cramps into knots. It twists and turns sending him into a nauseous spin. His bones feel wrong, like they want to vibrate out of his own skin and he feels sweaty but he’s cold. He’s frustrated and alone and devastated and going through withdrawal and everything sucks. He really had to go fuck it all up. Nothing was really all that bad, not compared to how it is now and he’d do anything to go back there. At this point, he might even take the paralyzing fear and panic attacks.

Jason sucks in a breath, lifting his head before he looks to the side of the mattress to try to will himself to get up but that’s when he sees a piece of paper. He plucks it up, unfolding it.

“Kidnappers: 0 You and me: 4 - Y/n <3”

Jason’s chest feels warm as a small smile starts to tug at his lips. Of all the things you could write in a note, it would be that. His eyes stay on the note and maybe you did have to go for another reason. If you were that mad at him, you wouldn’t leave him a note, not this note anyway. So, Jason folds it into a small square and puts it into the pocket of his sweatpants before he wills himself to get up.

Jason makes his way down the large staircase as his head feels like it’s wobbling. He knows withdrawal is tortuous. He knows that but he really didn’t expect it to feel like this. As much as he tries to not think about it, the only thing he wants is the drug. It’s the only thought that’s coming through clear as day, taunting about how much better he’ll feel if he just takes it. His head won’t feel like it’s exploding and he won’t want to peal his skin off of his bones. The cramps will vanish and he won’t feel the shaking in his hands anymore, just like old times. The back cramp will go away and his leg won’t be in pain. Jason knows it’s a bad idea, based on last night, but it’s growing more and more tempting with every step he takes down the stairs.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

Jason jumps as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, eyes shooting up to the bench in front of the end of the staircase. You're lying there, your phone above your face and your knees are bent, feet planted on the bench.

You didn’t leave?

“Fuck you.” Jason mutters, brows knitting together as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Why didn’t you leave?

You glance back to him from the corner of your eyes and he does look terrible. The dark circles are back, more prominent than they were the other night. The light in his eyes is gone and he’s really pale. He looks like he might actually be sick and you think his cheeks look a little more hollowed than they did before. His hair doesn’t even have the same volume that it normally does and it breaks your heart.

He’s going through it now and this time there actually might be nothing you can even offer to do to help. At least before, you could just offer to listen and be there for him. That was always something but this is different. He’s just going to have to ride it out and you feel horrible for it.

You grin softly to yourself, typing away at your screen before you sit up, planting your feet on the floor. “It’s true.” You shrug your shoulders. You bend down, sliding a white box out from under the bench before you pick it up. “Got donuts, picked up a few of your favorites.” You hold out the box for Jason but his stomach just twists at the thought of food.

“Not hungry.” He nearly grimaces as he looks to his own shoes.

You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, it’s called withdrawal. You should eat anyway. You need some sugar, hence donut. Plus, dough is filling. It might help.” You extend your arms further. “Eat.”

Jason hesitates, looking to the right before he hangs his head, letting out a sigh and then walks over to you. You're one of the most persistent and persuasive people Jason has ever met and he is under no condition or mood to try and even argue with that. You’ll win anyway. You always win in some way. He sits beside you while you open the box, giving him one of the four donuts that are left. Jason raises a brow, wondering if you've eaten.

“Here.” You grab a bottle of water from the side of the bench and hand that to him. “You also need some water.”

Jason takes it from you slowly as he grows more and more confused. What the ever-living-fuck happened last night that he does not remember? The last thing he knew, you two were not speaking. You might have rescued him but this is weird, even for you. You're sturdy in your beliefs and sturdy in your own words. You're being awfully nice and it’s freaking Jason out. He’s starting to think he might be running a fever and maybe this is all just a very vivid dream. You have no reason to be this nice to him at the moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question, your brows furrowing together as Jason just looks at you as if you're some sort of math problem he can’t figure out.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jason finally asks, looking at the donuts and then back to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you knew he’d be confused. That’s a little bit of why you're doing it. A little bit of payback for the hell he’s been putting you through. But, if you wanted to be brutally honest, the guilt of saying you were giving up him is eating at you from the inside out. It is one of the only things you think about because it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it because Jason thinks you do. Why wouldn’t he? You literally said it out loud. And then he got kidnapped and drugged. You don’t want to abandon him, drug or not. And last night you got to see a part of the old Jason you thought maybe didn’t come back when he came back to life. You thought maybe, the pit kept a part of his soul. But, last night, he was him. Drugged and high, but him. The Jason you know and love. So, you're here, being nice and making sure he’s eating and getting water because he should have someone in his corner anyway.

Last night, Dick said you and Gar did a good job and you suddenly understood Jason’s entire motive. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders by Bruce and made worse by being a replacement to Dick. That wasn’t Dick’s fault, but he could have done more. And it was never about having someone to help him lift the weight, it was always about Jason needing to find his own footing outside of the approval of who he looked up to most. That’s just…a lot easier said than done. He needed the one person who gave him everything, not to abandon him but he did anyway. You understand his motive and you're thinking, abandonment is the worst possible option for him. It always was. And you should have known, because it was always the worst option for you, too.

You offer a cheeky smile, faking it entirely. “Is it freaking you out?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Jason snips.

He’s thinking he’s either running a fever, he’s hallucinating, he died again, or he’s in some type of coma thanks to the drug Crane gave him. This whole thing just feels weird and the you he knows would be telling him off and calling him a shithead for getting himself into this mess and then immediately saying it wasn’t actually his fault. Jason knows it is. But, you always tell him it’s not. This time though, you're just offering him food as if nothing happened the last few days. He would love if you two could just move on as if nothing happened, but the reality is that it did happen. Last night and the night before happened. You aren’t nearly as forgiving as he is.

You let out a laugh, leaning your head back. “Good.”

You do not want him to know how worried you are about him or about your own guilt. He’s already going to have a rough few days getting the drug out of his system and you don’t want to make it any worse. At this point, the only thing you want is for things to go back to some type of normal. You know you have to talk and sort it out but you want to feel normal, without all the weight, for just a few minutes even. You want a break from everything. And Jason was always your safe haven when things got too heavy and too loud. He was always good at carrying the weight that didn’t belong to him and blocking out the noise.

Jason's face drops but a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Are you fucking with me?”

You snicker softly. “I mean, you do need food and water, but yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m always fucking with you.” You say softly as you roll your shoulders.

Jason’s entire chest starts to swarm with a vibrating warmth. “Fuck you.” Jason quips, a gentle smile on his lips before he picks up a donut, eyeing it softly. The last thing he wants right now is food.

“Just eat it, Jay. It’ll help.” You say softly, seeing the hesitation on his face.

Jason shakes his head and he needs to do anything else and not eat, or at least try to distract himself to eat. He can’t concentrate on much but he’s curious enough as to why you're still here. You're fucking with him as usual, but he does not deserve your kindness or you trying to take care of him. He should be doing it on his own, after everything he did. To all of you. This isn’t right. Yet, you're still somehow here.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jason asks.

“No.” You answer simply, swinging your feet slightly. “Gar came to bring me clothes so we went to get some food down the street real quick and got extra for you. Came right back though just in case you woke up.” You explain, looking back to him with a soft smile.

You didn’t want to go far. You didn’t want Jason to think you would just up and leave again. It has to be different this time. Jason was an apologizing mess last night and being held captive is traumatic. You were never going to leave without making sure he was okay and seeing if he did want to have that conversation for real. It might be heavy but maybe it’ll make things kind of, sort of, normal again. But, Gar insisted on breakfast and you weren’t going to disappoint him again.

“Why the fuck did you come anyway?” Jason asks before he finally gets the courage to take a bite of the donut. “You said not to contact you and shit.”

He doesn’t say it out of spite this time. He says it because it’s true and as mad and as hurt as he was, he also gets it. Now that he’s sober, he doesn’t even blame you. He thinks you should have done that from the start, even if it’s killing him on the inside. The last good thing about him was you and he destroyed every part of that. You don’t deserve that but you're here anyway. Offering him food and acting normal. One of the things he always really liked about you is that he could never really figure you out.

You turn your full attention to him, your heart sinking with any hope of having that conversation today. If he doesn’t remember anything, he doesn’t remember what you said or you seeing his scars or helping him or him asking you to stay. It’s not that you want him to remember any of it. In your opinion, he’s lucky not to remember most of it. Maybe he won’t see it that way, but you do. Even if it doesn’t quite work out for you.

“You don’t remember much of last night, do you?” You ask and Jason shakes his head shamefully. “I’ll always come find you.” You say casually but your voice is just above a whisper. “You’d do it for me.” You shrug easily and your words make Jason look to your neck where he can see the silver peaking out from under your hoodie. “You, uh, you said to bring you here so I did. You asked me to stay so I did. You, uh, you….you were apologizing a lot so I said we could talk later if you still wanted to.” You tug your sleeves over your hands.

Jason nods his head, slowly making his way through his food with a few sips of water. That explains a lot actually. He isn’t sure exactly what he was like last night, but he’s imagining it wasn’t too pretty if he had to ask you to stay. And maybe having a conversation is why you stayed, a sense of hope, maybe. If you're willing, he’d love to talk about it for once but his head also hurts and his spine feels like it wants to crack out of his back. The withdrawal is making it hard enough to even have this conversation with you. He thinks if you’ll talk, it should be when he can actually participate properly. You deserve that much.

“Thanks for staying.” Jason says quietly. “Don’t fucking deserve.” Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

You furrow your brows as you turn to face him, pulling your knee on the bench so the bottom of your shoe rests against your other leg off the bench. “You know, you should know by now that I think you deserve the world, Jay.”

“Why?” Jason huffs and a part of him is getting pissed that you even think that. Do you not understand the gravity of the things he’s done? “Look at what I’ve become!”

“It’s not really you.” You say softly. “And I know you know that.” You nod your head quickly. “But you never thought you deserved better. I know shit gets bad for you and always has been. But, that shit never mattered to me. You did.” You say and Jason thinks he just swallowed his own heart. Did? “Do.” You state firmly. “You do. Anti-fear drug you isn’t the real you.”

Maybe the anti-fear drug version of him isn't really him but Robin wasn't either. Living in a fancy mansion with money and everything he could have wanted. Following directly behind Bruce and Dick, trying to fill their shoes when their viewpoints are so wildly different. Bruce can try all he wants but Batman was born from vengeance. He got to go home to a cave underneath his fancy mansion with all of his tech Jason couldn't even dream of touching before. Bruce was raised by a fucking butler that was still on Bruce's payroll. Batman was born because Bruce's rich parents were killed in cold blood. And Bruce had all of the means to make Batman happen. That's great, Jason fully believes that's great, but it's different.

Bruce didn't see the dealers or sex workers or the pimps or addicts or traffickers in the flesh. Bruce didn't see that some of those people "breaking the law" were just doing what they had to do to survive because the system was never meant to help them. Jason might have some resentment towards his dad for everything, but he also knows his dad was trying because job after job didn't work out like it should have. He was down and out, but he tried. He was an asshole and he was abusive, but maybe some of how he ended up like that was circumstances. It doesn't make it right, but maybe that's part of it. Jason understands his dad was trying to provide in some way and it turned him into an abusive prick and then it got him killed.

Jason knows his mom's addiction didn't help and it didn't make her the best mom. But, he also knows that that was her way of trying to provide because she used to use to function and the addiction set in. She took them to survive in her own way. His uncle drank to survive. That's how it is sometimes. And that's what he saw, everyday, and not just from his own family. It's what he knew and he also grew up knowing, no one is going to help them. Not even Batman. They are on their own.

Jason grew up knowing sometimes people do "bad" things in order to survive and provide, but Bruce never saw that first hand so his morals on Batman are entirely skewed and bias for the sake of upholding the law and putting "bad people" away. But, Jason's views were always landing in a grey area that not all "bad people" are actually bad and deserve to be thrown away. Robin gave him magic but he also had to give up some of his own morals and beliefs in order to wear the cape and mask.

Robin was never really him, either.

“Robin wasn't the real me either.” Jason scoffs.

Your eyes narrow softly at him because it's such an odd comment coming from him. Robin was everything to him before and maybe you do get it. It got him killed, it's different now. There's a lot of bad blood stained over Robin but...you don't entirely think that's true.

“That’s not true. The whole, mansion shit, yeah.” You laugh softly. “But, wanting to be the voice for people who get left behind? Yeah, that’s still you, Jay.” You shrug your shoulders. “You always liked kicking ass, people who deserve it because they did something wrong. Not because you like to fight. I mean, you’re argumentative as fuck, but physically violent, not so much. It’s a misconception that you play into because it’s easier than letting people see the real you or whatever. Robin let you be this hero and you had to roll with Batman and shit, but…you got to help people.” You shake your head. “Like me.” You clear your throat. "That's you." You offer a soft nod at him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

As far as Jason can see, he's never really helped you. Not really. He thinks he's only made everything worse. Between getting kidnapped and making you lose sleep and dying and now everything else. He's pretty sure you were always better off without him. How the hell do you think he actually helped you?

“How the fuck do you figure I helped you?” Jason shakes his head and he definitely is not well enough to be having this conversation.

You think of every way Jason has saved your life, some of the times a little too dark to share with him at the moment. But, you think about them and you think about all the other times where he's helped you, even with small stuff like getting something down from a cabinet. You've never told him but you think one of the reasons you are who you are today is because of him.

You pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. "I felt like maybe the stuff with Jerry was my fault. Spent a lot of time thinking that but...one of the first things you told me was that he was a piece of shit and I didn't deserve it. You didn't even know me. But, it helped and you never made me feel like what happened to me was ever my fault. And uh, you trained me so I wouldn't be scared to leave the tower. Maybe the knives is a thing...or maybe it's because you trained me. Sparred with Gar the other day, I still won. Because you trained me." You suck in a shaky breath, pausing softly. "Um...and I just...I'm alive today because of you." You nod at him once, seeing Jason's face wanting to twist to question it. "So, maybe Robin wasn’t completely the real you, but Robin was enough of the real you. You put yourself into Robin. And you can put yourself into Red Hood. Without Bruce. Without Batman.” You rush your words, making sure Jason can't get a word in. “So, I guess, I’m just saying that you always deserve better, even if you don’t believe me. And I just hope you understand that one day, Jay.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me any of that before?" Jason asks, turning to match your position as his right shin touches yours.

Truthfully, it all seemed too honest. A little too scary to tell him what kind of impact he had on you. It’s more than that, there’s more you haven’t told him as a way to protect yourself and maybe even him. You always felt if you told him those things, maybe it’d change. Maybe it would change how he viewed you and maybe it would change how you felt he viewed you. Maybe he’d feel some sort of obligation and you hate when people feel obligated to you for something. You should know Jason never does something for someone strictly out of obligation, but you feared it anyway. And if you told him, what happens when he doesn’t come home?

Saying everything out loud makes it real. And he didn’t come home anyway.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if you think too much about everything, the tears will start again. “Uh…I’ll always stay if you ask me to.” You nod your head softly.

Jason watches you carefully and he could always tell when there was more on your mind but it looks like it is physically paining you to even talk about it. The guilt starts to take over and Jason wants you to not be in pain anymore. He'll take it if that's what he has to do, he doesn't care anymore.

“You really shouldn’t.” Jason nearly mutters the words.

You know him better than anyone and that was always what he feared. You know him better than anyone which means he’s more susceptible to getting hurt. He’s already hurt himself enough for the both of you but then everything with Excellent Gotham happened and now you're the one torn between him and everyone else. He’s hurt because you're hurt and that’s all this is turning into.

Maybe a small part of him regrets the two of you, as thankful as he is you're here. As much as he appreciates your company and your kindness, he has crossed the line and maybe had you never gotten together, you wouldn’t be the one in pain. Maybe had you not gotten together, this whole thing would be easier for him. He wouldn’t feel like he let another person down and pushed them to their very brink of existence. He wouldn’t feel like he exposed himself too much to the elements. He’d still feel safe in his bubble of self-destruction and self-hatred. It wouldn’t hurt you.

You're too good anyway.

So, he pushes out of some painful mix of self-preservation and self-destruction.

“You know, uh, I think about that…night with Deathstroke.” You swallow thickly. “Not…not the kidnapping so much anymore but…after.” You stress, looking to your leg and picking at the hem of your pants. “In the bathroom and I don’t know. You pushed and gave me every reason to, uh, to run like I usually do and I know…we did do what we do best in the end but…not…ya know?” You shake your head, looking back at him. “You pushed and I stood there anyway and told you that you matter to me. And it was like…the first time I ever felt like I could stay…if you’d have me.”

Jason’s heart starts to ache from inside of his chest like he’s just been stabbed. Did he make you feel unwanted? That was never it. He was just scared and pushing always seemed easier and you never put up a fight about it. He thought you were on the same page of pushing and running. You both did it until you couldn’t. The risk of everything you both ever feared didn’t seem to matter anymore so you both decided to stay and Jason can’t decide if that was for better or worse. But, he’s looking at the distant look in your eyes and he’s thinking maybe it was for the worse for you. You always made him better.

“Even as a friend. Like I said, I agreed with you and we did what we do best.” You shake your head. “And you did.” You nod your head. “You showed up to my room the next night and I just…” You suck in a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling and back to him. “I knew I could stay. I didn’t have to run from you.” You tug your sleeves over your hands. “So, um…I know you want to,” You nod your head with understanding but your heart is breaking with every second that passes. “But, can…can you please not push me away this time? Please, Jay.” You offer him a sad and weak smile as the lump in your throat starts to grow. “I know things are complicated right now but you’re my best friend and I really miss you.” Your voice cracks as water starts to brim your eyes.

Even after everything, you have a way of getting him to cave. Pushing has always been his best defense mechanism. It has always worked and it has always been easy. It has always hurt him, which was fine because at least it was self-inflicted. But, you make the whole thing hard because it doesn’t just hurt him. It hurts you, too. And Jason knows how badly it hurt when you left. Maybe part of making amends is letting go of bad coping mechanisms. Maybe it’s doing things that hurt and are scary. He does love you and he does miss you, too. He’s tired of being alone and he’s tired of being in pain. And he's tired of putting you through pain. So, he nods.

“I miss you, too." Jason's voice is rough and low but honest and sincere, earning him an almost relieved sigh from you. "I just fucked everything up this time.” Jason says quietly. “Really fucked it up.” Jason nods. “With you and the Titans. How the fuck do I come back from that?”

“You apologize and get clean.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m the only one who really understands it so you just…have to try.”

“That’s it? I try and they welcome me back with open arms?” Jason scoffs at the thought. It’s never that easy. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

"I mean, I'm still welcome to be a Titan and I'm killing people. All of you almost killed Gar." You nod your head quickly. "So, they have to welcome you back because otherwise they're just hypocrites." You offer him a cheeky smile. "You just have to try, Jay. And if that doesn't work, then fuck em." You shrug your shoulders sarcastically. "You still got me and you got Gar." A genuine smile comes to your lips as you rest your hand on top of his.

Jason thinks the simple act alone just lit his entire body on fire so he smiles back, subtle but there. "Yeah, alright." Jason manages a soft chuckle as he shakes his head. “When are you going back?” Jason asks softly, not really wanting you to leave.

“Oh…uh, well, you were just drugged so I thought…I’d hang around if that’s okay.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you pull your hand back into your lap.

Liar.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Jason asks bluntly. “Don’t pull that bullshit about how you’re just worried about me or whatever. Something’s going on.” Jason can always tell when you're lying and he swears part of that is because you almost never do.

You chew the inside of your cheek and he’s right, something in going on. You've been thinking a lot about how you finally understand it. The whole Bruce and Dick thing. You finally get it and you actually hate it. Of course, understanding Jason is always nice but you hate that you feel that way. Every day since you've watched Jason deteriorate over Robin, you swore you would never be like him or Dick and yet here you are. In the same damn position. And you won’t let that happen. And the more you sit and the more you think about it, the more you wonder if the reason you threw in the towel over Jason is because of your obligation to the Titans.

You have a bigger obligation to Jason and yourself but maybe that played a little bit of a hand. Maybe your loyalty runs a little deeper than you thought because Dick saved your life and brought you into this world. But, you don’t want that. Something has to fucking give and you're not sacrificing your views or your morals anymore. Maybe it’ll be for the better and maybe it’ll be for the worse, but at least you know you're doing something you can live with. At least you're doing it because it’s what you believe in.

You're also still a little mad that Dick was willing to sacrifice Jason if last night wasn't a trap and Crane went off the deep end. There is still that.

“I am, uh, mad at Dick. Shocker, I know.” You crunch your nose before rolling your eyes. “But, um…he said we did a good job last night and I just…felt so validated and I hated that. Because it was more than just being validated, it was being validated by him. And he said it could have been a trap and he's right but he didn't fucking stop me from going. It could have been a trap and I could have been killed, blah blah blah, right? Well, he let me fucking go alone. He didn’t pressure Gar for information. So, I just…I don’t wanna go there. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore fucking anyway. So…yeah.” You rush your words, trying to play it off because you don't particularly want to talk about it.

“So…you’re mad at Dick so you’re just...switching sides?” Jason questions, not really sure he understands why you would do that. "And what the hell would you have done if it were a trap? Hate fucking saying it, but he's kind of right." Jason nearly grimaces at the thought of agreeing with Dick, but it could have been a trap for the Titans. You had no way of knowing otherwise.

“Was I ever really not on your side?” You quip. “No, it’s…” You suck in a breath and you shrug your shoulders. “I know that if you stay off of the drug then you’re you again. That’s where I want to stand and I want to be here when you are clean. You’re where I always want to be.” You nearly whisper. "And, if it were a trap, I knew that if I showed up, you'd do everything in your power to get me out of there. It would never be a trap for me, just the Titans. So, I wasn't worried. I know Excellent Gotham was an accident. Shit happens, but I'm almost always safe with you and I know that." You offer a soft but closed smile. "You and me."

Jason pauses and he thinks back to the day he walked onto the roof. He thinks he’s starting to feel that way again. Worthless, useless, damaged, broken, unloved, unworthy, filled of poison. Everything comes back to him. But, he’s sitting next to you and he also remembers you that day.

You were the only one that stood up for him and you were the only one who came out to the roof to try to talk him down. You're always the only one, if he has no one else, he has you. And he remembers you literally telling him that if you're alive, he’ll never have to be alone. You broke up with him and he’s still not alone. Maybe you're crazy for it but Jason knows in order for you to still be with him, in any context, you're having to sacrifice a lot. In order to make sure you keep that promise to him, you're the one sacrificing yourself and your friends. For some reason, you believe in him so maybe it’s time Jason takes a step back and starts sacrificing, too and believing in himself. If you can, he owes it to you to try, too. It’s supposed to be him and you.

"I'm still really sorry for that." Jason lets out a breath. "But, next time, can you bring someone with you in case it is a trap?" Jason lets out a soft laugh. "I'd never let some shit happen to you but, just in case." Jason nods head quickly, the white streak flopping around slightly.

You let out a laugh as you look down and then back to him. "Yeah, okay because you asked so nicely." You say sarcastically.

Jason shakes his head but his chest is starting to feel a little better. “I’m gonna make it up to you, alright?” Jason says sternly. “Don’t know how yet, but I’m going to. I fucking owe you.”

You offer a soft smile. “I expect a lot of homecooked meals and for you to drive me around.” You nod as a cheeky smile starts to come to your face.

Jason lets out a soft laugh, tilting his head down before he looks back you. “I’m not your personal fucking chef or your chauffeur.”

“Could be so fun, Jay.” Your eyes widen as you shake your head teasingly at him. “Um…” Your brows furrow. “Withdrawal sucks and I know you know that. So, um…if you want to go to Crane and try to get one or two inhalers so you can ween yourself off instead of cold turkey, I get it.” You nod your head. “Um…I mean, I can help if you want.”

Jason nearly does a double-take. “This whole time you’ve been telling me to get off of it and now you’re telling me you’ll help me take it?”

“I also don’t want you miserable.” You state. “I can like hide the inhalers for you and monitor when you get more.”

Jason pauses for a second and maybe it’s a bad idea. The drug makes him a skeleton of who he really is but this is torture, just sitting here. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to deal with feeling like this for days or maybe weeks. He doesn’t know how long this withdrawal is going to last. All he knows is that it is fucking exhausting and painful. But, maybe if you can help, he won’t fall back into Crane’s hands. If you're willing to stay, he can try.

“Yeah, then I'll be fucking done with his psycho ass.” Jason clears his throat. “Feel like fucking shit.” Jason scoffs. “Meet back here then?”

You nod your head softly. “Yeah, I gotta get back and let Gar know what’s going on, I guess deal with Dick. Blah blah blah.” You laugh softly. “Just…text me if something happens.” You get to your feet. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid until I get back.”

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid while you’re gone.” Jason quips. “Ya know, like using the R blades to kill some fuck.”

You gain a cheeky smile. “Hey, you’re still wearing a bat symbol.” You point at him. “I’m just being an asshole, just like you. Learned from the best, bAbE.” You snark right back at him as you watch him gain that half-cocked, toothy smirk that always made you feel alive. “I’ll be back and try not to take it until I get back.” You nod once at him, keeping your own smirk before you turn on your heels and head for the exit.

You head back to the manor, knowing Dick and Kory will want to know where Jason and Crane are. If you were being honest, you're surprised Gar has been able to keep it a secret. You know it’s a very big ask for him not to tell Dick where or the password into the tablet which you had Gar bring you when he came by just to be sure Dick didn’t get into it while Gar was gone. Letting them know where Crane is, is all fine and well, the issue comes to Jason.

While you appreciate that Dick thinks you and Gar did a good job, there is still a bitterness hugging your chest about the whole thing. It shouldn’t have been up to you. You said you were done and you should have been able to be done but not when no one else is going to do something. You know you never would have taken a backseat anyway, not with Jason being kidnapped and held hostage, but it should have been an option. Jason was in trouble and it was Dick’s responsibility to do something about it. You don’t know where Dick’s head is with Jason now so the last thing you want is for him to know where Jason is hiding out and where Crane is. The last thing you want to do is even work side-by-side with him anymore and if you were a worse person, you’d just kill Crane now and get it all over with. Dick could deal with the cleanup if there is any to be had.

You stop right into your room as soon as you get to the manor. If you're going to help Jason and you're going to stand beside him, you want to be physically there. If you're ditching the Titans, then staying here isn’t really an option. So, you pack a bag with clothes and a charger for your phone before stopping by Jason’s room and picking a few of his favorite pieces of clothes and books. Once you have everything you need, you make your way to the Batcave to grab the case for your suit and extra knives and blades.

Dick, Kory, and Gar are all in the Batcave when you make your way down there. They’re surrounded by the Batcomputer, coming as no surprise to you. But, then they all turn around, eyes landing on you and you tug your backpack harder over your shoulder.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“How is he?” Gar asks, hope in his eyes as he spins in his chair and gets to his feet.

“Going through withdrawal, looks like shit.” You huff before sucking in a breath. “Got him to eat a little bit though.” You offer a soft smile.

“Does that mean he’s done?” Dick questions.

“Done with the drug, Crane, or Red Hood? Because I’m thinking those are three different answers.” You quip, holding a bit of snark in your voice.”

“All three.” Dick’s voice grows defensive and you were fine last night. Suddenly, you hang out with Jason for one night and you have an attitude again? Seriously?

“No, yes, and probably not. Didn’t talk about Red Hood.”

“Wait, he’s gonna keep taking it?!” Gar practically yells in confusion.

“No.” You answer simply, shaking your head. “He’s just getting a few more inhalers so he can ween off it instead of cold turkey. Withdrawal is bad enough.” You look to Dick who looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “It was my idea if that helps.”

“What?!” Kory and Gar yell at the same time.

“Why would you encourage him to keep taking it?” Dick grabs the bridge of his nose and he's thinking you should have come with migraine medication when he found you in the alley.

“Because quitting some drugs cold turkey can kill you and I don’t know if Crane’s drug falls into that category or not and neither does he. I’d rather we not find out the hard way.” You answer simply, rolling your shoulders.

Gar finally notices the backpack and his heart starts to sink. He’s really hoping you're just bringing Jason some of his stuff and you're not leaving. They’ve already lost so many people, he doesn’t want someone else walking out on them. He knows it has to be really hard for you, but it’s hard for everyone.

“Why do you have a backpack?” Gar asks cautiously.

You tug it over your shoulder a bit more. “Um…I’m gonna stay with Jason for a bit.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I promise, I was not leaving without telling you. I’m just trying to make sure he’s gonna be alright.” You roll your shoulders and a part of you almost offers to let him come with.

It could be just the three of you again but you would never put Gar in a position where he feels like he has to choose between you and Jason and the Titans. Inviting him, feels like it would put him in that position. And you have no idea what Jason would think of it anyway so you bite it back.

“Are you sure?” Gar asks.

You nod your head softly and you don’t want Gar in the middle of your annoyance with Dick. You know you’ll get over it eventually anyway. “Yeah, maybe I can get something out of him anyway, about if Crane is planning something big and if so, what.” You play it off, realizing this does give you that opportunity.

Dick nods once. “You could just tell us where he’s hiding out and where Crane is.” Dick states simply.

“No.” You shake your head as you start walking over towards the display case where your suit is still in the suitcase beside it.

Dick turns to face you, annoyance written on his face.”Excuse me?”

“I said no.” You say simply. “If you want to argue about it, argue with yourself cause I'm not anymore.” You shrug your shoulders.

Dick sucks in a breath and he can’t believe you’re really doing this again. “Fine, can we speak privately?” Dick asks.

“Come on, Gar.” Kory walks up to Gar, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find Conner and Blackfire.” Kory offers a soft smile before they walk off.

You grab the suitcase, walking back towards Dick and then past him. You're ready to get out of here and you know this is going to cause more problems than it’s maybe worth. But, at the end of the day, you swore you’d protect Jason at all costs. Too many people left him exposed to the elements, and you're not going to do that. Dick had his chance to help, too and he left the both of you in the pouring rain and wonders why you’re feeling abandoned.

“I thought you were on our side.” Dick shakes his head. “What’s going on? Did something happen?” Dick asks, this time his voice sounding a little bit more concerned and you almost feel guilty.

“Dude, come on.” You scoff. “I’m on whatever side gets Jason home and safe. You should know that. Nothing happened I just….” You shake your head. “You could have fucking helped last night and you didn’t. For all we knew, Crane could have lost his shit and was gonna kill him.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Dick states. “You said last night he was just tied to a chair and you got him out of there. You and Gar worked together and you both did a good job last night. You didn’t need help.”

“It’s not about if I needed it!” You yell in desperation. “I fucking found his body! Do you really think I’m just fucking fine with that now that he’s alive? Do you really think I want to find him like that again? On my fucking own? That’s what you set me up to do last night. Yeah, he was 'just' tied to a chair, but I also know that fucks with your head, too. He’s your brother who needs fucking help but the only people who are willing at all costs are Gar and me. So, no.” You shake your head. “I’m not gonna tell you until I know he’s safe. You can figure it out and I’ll talk to him anyway. But, I’m not telling you.” You look to the right and then back to Dick. "Did you ever think that he just needs you to show up for him and not out of obligation? Bruce isn't here and this wasn't your fault like Deathstroke. Jason Todd is not hard to figure out."

Dick hangs his head for a second, realizing maybe you make a good point. You shouldn't have had to be the one to go alone. But, Dick didn't even think of the possibility that Jason could have been in real danger. He didn't think of what would happen if he was and you were the one to find him again. Dick's realizing maybe, just maybe, Crane might have had a point a few days ago. Maybe he did abandon Jason.

“I’m sorry.” Dick admits, catching you off-guard. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have been up to and I didn’t think about that.” Dick looks to the ground and back to you. “We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately and we’ve all been through a lot. This is hard for you. We all just want this to be over. I should have gone with you.”

"Thank...you?" You question, a little confused where this version of Dick is coming from. "Look, I think any risk is worth saving him. Last night, though, you made me think that isn't the case for you. So, I can't tell you in order to protect him. But, I'll try to get information about Crane anyway and tell you." You nod your head, swallowing your own pride. "I still want Crane dead and you want him brought in, so we're on the same side there." You start to walk towards the stairs. "Anything else or...can I go?" You ask, feeling, for some reason, obligated to.

"You can go." Dick lets out a sigh. "At least keep up with Gar, he's worried about the two of you." Dick warns, having to suck up his pride, too and put some trust into you this time. You offer him a closed-mouth smile before giving him a thumbs up and heading back upstairs.

Jason is making his way to the pump station where Crane is setting up for their next steps and his teeth grind while his heart races. He swears he has to be running a fever with his head feeling warm, heavy, and cloudy. He isn’t sweating but something about his skin feels like it’s almost been dunked into a pit of oil and it makes his skin crawl. There’s an ache in his back that isn’t painful but isn’t uncomfortable like it’s on the verge of a paralyzing cramp that just won’t come. His hands are starting to shake and the only thing he wants is the damn drug.

There’s a bit of worry in thinking about the drug though. He can’t be who he has been over the last week. He cannot go back to that but he is desperate and scared. Everything is in agony and the guilt is starting to weigh his feet down. The regret feels like cinderblocks resting on his heart. He’s scared he won’t be able to stop and he’s scared if he goes right back to the drug, Crane will get him right back under his wing. He finds himself thinking maybe that’s why you offered to help anyway. So, Crane couldn’t manipulate him anymore. If the only person he’s talking to is you while he’s high, then he doesn’t have too much to worry about. You're not going to manipulate him into killing innocent people. That’s all Crane. So, he sucks up his fear and walks right in, ready to nearly demand the drug from Crane.

Crane has a jackhammer in hand, trying to get through the concrete on the floor. Jason watches him with more aggravation starting to flood into his system. Jason walked in with a mission, sights set on getting one or two inhalers and that’s it. But, he’s standing here and all he wants to do is scream. The anger side of withdrawal is peaking through and he’s thinking he’s going to finally snap if Crane doesn’t hand over an inhaler. The jackhammer is making the headache worse and the shaking starts to intensify. He doesn’t really care about anything else as desperation starts to take over.

“I need more!” Jason yells over the sound of the jackhammer. He thinks his head might explode if Crane doesn’t knock it off.

Crane stops and rests the jackhammer on the ground before looking up to Jason. He gains a delighted smile as he walks closer to Jason, stretching his arms out to his sides.

“You’re back.” Crane says before gesturing his arms inward. “Come on, bring it in.”

The last thing Jason wants to do is hug him. This insane psychopath kidnapped him, drugged, and held him hostage. Jason’s ex-girlfriend had to rescue him. And Crane thinks Jason wants to not only be around him but hug him? He’s lost his fucking mind.

“I need another inhaler, Crane.” Jason demands, keeping his footing a few feet away from Crane.

“Well,” Crane starts as he plops his arms back to his sides. “You’re gonna have to cook it yourself. I’m fresh out.” Crane states as he goes to turn around.

Jason's heart plummets and he’s desperate for more. Crane just can’t be out. He’s the one that’s been having cooks make it. How the fuck is he out? He can’t just be out. So, Jason starts walking closer, spotting a large drum barrel.

“What about that?” Jason points to it.

“That…is too concentrated.” Crane states. “Deadly in its uncut form.”

Jason can feel himself growing more and more aggravated and panicked. It’s more than just the fear creeping in but instead, it’s the fear of withdrawal and the idea of never having the drug again. That’s what he’s starting to panic about. He knows he’s getting off of it. He has to if he wants to get some part of his life back. Crane isn’t stable and while he’s helped him this far, last night happened. Jason needs to get off the drug but he really doesn’t want to do it cold turkey. This is literal hell right now.

“This is a fuck show.” Jason lets out an annoyed sigh as he starts walking closer to Crane to pass by him and leave.

“Jay.” Crane states but it’s more in a warning tone. Jason wants to combust, the nickname sending the anger from the withdrawal into a spin. No one calls him that. “Jaydog.” Crane lifts his voice this time as Jason turns around to face him. “Take heart, my friend. We are just a few swift strokes away from the sweetest comeback the world has ever seen.” Crane leans over on the jackhammer, a menacing look in his eye. “I mean, they’re gonna make a biopic about us. How we met, our ups, our downs…”

“How the Titans wiped us out?” Jason cuts him off knowing the Titans are coming after them and Crane doesn’t seem to be much help.

You can say whatever you want but right now, he’s still being targeted by the Titans because he’s spent the last week targeting them. Jason doesn’t think for a second he can come back from that. That’s why you're suddenly with him through this. A barrier against the Titans.

“Do you remember why we’re here?” Crane asks.

“The details are hazy, Crane. You zombified me, remember that?” Jason quips back and that part is biting at the back of his head.

Crane didn’t have to do it but he did it anyway. He drugged him, held him hostage, then kidnapped him and brought him here. He didn’t even offer a good explanation. But, Jason falls back on him stealing the inhalers from Crane and maybe he deserved some part of it.

“I do remember.” Crane states simply as he furrows his brows. “Well, um, quick refresher course. So, this pump station is perched directly above Courtland Valve station, which controls all of the water supply for all of Gotham. I take my little friends there and I dump it into the water supply and…” Crane states as he fires up the jackhammer again but as he does, he loses control and it goes sputtering to the floor.

Jason bursts out laughing, enjoying the look of shock on Crane’s face but his laughter starts to die down when Crane also starts laughing. Something about the look he gives Jason and the way he laughs, it almost reminds of him Dr. Light when Jason had him pinned. When Deathstroke held a sword to your face. And suddenly, he’s worried again.

“You think that’s funny?” Crane asks through his laughter. “Just wait until you see what we’re gonna do to Gotham when we’re done here.” Crane says as he circles around Jason, standing behind him and wrapping an arm around his neck as he chuckles. “Gotham is going to destroy itself.” Crane boasts as he walks back over to his place by the jackhammer. “House by house, family by family.” Crane laughs and Jason doesn’t want that.

It was never supposed to be about destroying Gotham. It was about protecting Gotham. Doing the things Bruce would never do and couldn’t do and refused to do. It was about actually taking care of the people in the city who aren’t on Bruce’s radar, the people who get left behind by the GCPD. It was supposed to be about them, not this. This isn’t what Jason wanted to do.

“This plan is a fucking joke, Crane.” Jason states. “And so are you.”

“Me?” Crane questions and Jason thinks he might sound a little hurt. “But I reached over to the other side, dragged you back to the living…” Crane states and you were the one who said Crane was using him. Maybe you're right.

Up until this moment, Jason thought that couldn’t be true. Why would Crane use him? Crane’s been telling him this whole time he cares about him and he wants to help him in the way Bruce and Dick refused to help and couldn’t help. They could be a team, better than Batman. But, if Crane wasn’t really using him, why would he bring up bringing him back from the dead? Which Jason never fucking asked for anyway.

“So you could use me.” Jason states a sort of venom in his voice.

“Yes, so I could use you.” Crane answers nonchalantly as if Jason should have known the answer.

And Jason’s heart sinks further. It was never about helping him. It was about helping Crane help himself. You were the one who was right this time. Crane has been using him this whole time. Jason’s been a pawn in his game and it stings. It’s the same story over and over. Jason gives him all to someone and something and it all ends up backfiring, they use him and throw him away like he’s trash. Just like this.

“Life is transactional, my dear boy.” Crane states. “Well, I gave you life. You gave me secrets about Batman and Dick Grayson and the girlfriend, er, ex-girlfriend? And uh, what was his name? Hank?”

Jason has had it. Today is not the day to mess with him and Crane bringing up him betraying everyone for him is setting him off. It never should have had to be transactional. Yes, Jason should have known better. He knew the exchange was secrets for the formula. It was the drug and then they’d work together. Jason knew that part of it but he didn’t think his life was a part of that transaction. He doesn’t want his damn life to be transactional. He doesn’t want to sell himself for a drug and secrets and the destruction of Gotham and the Titans. That’s not who he is and that’s not who he wants to be. On top of that, Jason’s sick and tired of Crane thinking he can just bring up his one line and get off. You were always supposed to be off limits anyway and everything is sending Jason right over the edge.

Jason grabs Crane by the collar and spins them around, slamming Crane’s back against a few boxes as he holds him there. He’s done working with Crane and letting Crane think he’s the one running the show. Jason is not going to be his pawn anymore. If he wants to take down Gotham, that’s on him. Not Jason.

“I’m done telling secrets!” Jason yells, jaw clenched and knuckles turning white. “Done being fucking used!” Jason yells as he punches Crane in the face twice and then lets him go.

Crane looks up at him, something menacing and bored in his eyes. “You done?” He asks as he spits blood onto the ground.

“Almost.” Jason states plainly. “Bring her up again and I’ll fucking kill you.” Jason says harshly, his jaw squaring and a burning hatred washing over his usually bright eyes. Crane opens his mouth to say something but Jason moves forward and uses most of his strength to take another hit to Crane’s face, this time the hit is enough to knock him unconscious. “Now, I’m done.” Jason says as he leaves Crane on the ground and heads out, desperate to find something that’s going to take the edge off of everything that’s clouding him right now.

He’s supposed to meet back up with you, but at this point, he’s not sure he can stomach it. In the moment, it seemed fine. It was nice not to be alone and to not feel so alone. But, right now, it’s as if he swears it’s the only thing he really deserves with the withdrawal kicking in full force. You will try to make it all better and he knows for a fact he doesn’t deserve for it to be better again. He needs to figure out what he’s going to do and how. How he’s going to come back from everything. You just said he had to try but he doesn’t know how to try. What he’s become goes against everything that’s been engrained into him over the last few years.

Bruce swore killing was wrong and using excessive force was wrong. But, now Jason is the one with guns killing people and decapitating them just for extra threatening measure. Maybe he didn’t always agree with Bruce’s point of view but that’s what a hero, a vigilante, Robin was supposed to do. Not kill. Not use excessive force. There was one way and one way only. Jason was murdered anyway and he thinks maybe, this isn’t all wrong because it is for the greater good of Gotham. But, it haunts him anyway because of how he got here, what led him here. He was murdered and Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker for him and his death was preventable. His death was preventable in every way but he died anyway. He’s the one left with those physical and mental scars, not Bruce.

Jason thinks it’s different when death happens to you. But, Jason didn’t go after Two-Face. He didn’t go after Mr. Freeze or Penguin or Bane or the Riddler. Jason went after the drug side because of Crane. Maybe he would have done it anyway, but it was because of Crane so Crane could run his own drugs without them getting in the way. It wasn’t about protecting people. It was about distribution. So, he thinks about his younger self. The younger self that took care of his mom and didn’t entirely hate his dad for everything. And he wonders how much his younger self would hate who he’s become.

His younger self would hate the killing and the drugs and the betrayal. He’d hate turning from a hero to a villain and he’d hate how he went and fucked up such a good thing with so many people. Sure, the Titans weren’t always nice or understanding, but they had smoothed things out. And things did feel okay with them. And he was safe and warm and healthy and he had someone, he had people, who cared about him and tried their best to take care of him, something his younger self would have loved to have even if he never admitted it. Jason could have had it all but it just wasn’t enough. He was selfish and entitled and impatient, just like Dick and Bruce said. He was hard-headed and stubborn. It got him killed and it got him put in this position and he thinks his younger self might think he were better off staying dead.

Maybe he would be.

So, he digs out of his phone and sends a quick text to you. And then he waits.

An hour later, Jason sees you walking towards him as snow starts to fall from the gloomy sky. He swallows the lump in his throat as you get closer. You offer him a soft smile, hands dug deep into your pocket once you close the distance between you.

“You know it’s freezing, right?” You quip, seeing your breath in the space between you.

He didn't say much in the text. It was just that he didn't want to sit around the hideout and he needed to be out. He followed that text asking if you'd want to walk with him for a while.

“Yeah, and I’m still fucking sweating.” Jason rolls his shoulders, shaking his head.

“Ew.” You laugh softly. Jason’s eyes narrow at you as you shrug, a gentle smile on your lips. “Thanks for texting me.” You nod your head once.

If you were being honest, you're surprised he did. A very large part of you expected him to not come back to his hideout and avoid you. You really would understand if he did at this point. It has to be really difficult for him, especially coming down from both the anti-fear drug and whatever Crane gave him last night. But, you're really glad he texted anyway.

Jason lets out a breath, a cloud leaving his lips from the cold air. “Thanks for coming.” Jason nods.

“What’d Crane say?” You ask hesitantly, seeing the brown paper bag in his right hand.

“That he’s fresh out.” Jason scoffs. “Load of shit, obviously.”

“What a piece of shit.” You scoff right back. “He fucking sucks.” You roll your eyes, split between worried something bad is going to come from cold turkey withdrawal and relieved the risk of him falling back into Crane's hands is gone.

“Yeah.” Jason nods his head in agreement before the two of you start walking with no destination in mind.

“He say anything else?” You ask.

Jason bites back the pain in his chest and the burning of his eyes with your words. It’s a harsh reminder that he was never brought back because he was wanted. He wasn’t brought back because he was loved and cared about. He was brought back to be used and it was all always conditional. There were conditions to his life. His own breath was traded for secrets and death and betrayal. How can he live knowing his life is now tainted with innocent blood?

“Yeah.” Jason gets a distant look in his eyes as he brings the covered bottle to his lips and takes a drink.

“Which was…?” You ask softly, almost afraid of what Crane could have said.

“That he was using me the whole time.” Jason spits the words out and you swear you can see his eyes start to water against the city streetlights. “You were right.”

“For the record, I really wish I weren’t.” You scoff. “What? He just he was using you…just like that?” You question and you know Crane is a prick and he uses people. But, Jason really believed in him and that's the part that hurts.

“Pretty much.” Jason shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath as if the cold air biting his vocal cords will make it easier to talk. “Bringing me back was transactional.” Jason’s voice goes quiet and you think you heard his heart break.

You knew before, but this is further confirmation that Jonathan Crane is a monster. You're looking at Jason Todd who always just wanted to be enough and just wanted to be loved and Crane weaponized that just like Bruce. But worse. You knew Crane didn’t bring Jason back from the dead out of the kindness of his own heart but you're furious and devastated to be right. You're pissed that he would even tell Jason that.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, looking forward which earns you an immediate glance from Jason.

“Why? He didn’t do anything.” Jason nearly mocks the very idea.

“Because he just told you that the reason you’re alive is because he needed something from you.” You bite back, a venom and fury in your voice as you look at Jason. “That’s fucked up. I don’t care if it’s true. You don’t tell someone that. And I wanna kill him anyway for everything he’s done to you. But, that’s a good enough reason to me.” The anger in your voice actually surprises Jason. Of course, he's hurt by the ordeal, but he's watching you grow more and more angry over it. He's never had someone be like over something someone else did to him.

“I don’t know why it even fucking matters anymore. I did all of this shit for him.” Jason huffs taking another drink. “How it always is anyway, right?” Jason lets out a hollowed chuckle. “Like I told you, people always want something in exchange for something else.” Jason mutters and he thinks Crane has a point. Life is transactional, he just wishes his literal life wasn’t.

You stop walking, Jason walking a few feet in front of you. You hadn’t thought about that conversation in months. It was the first time you ever promised him something. You promised you’d never make a promise to him you couldn’t keep and you’d never make one just to get something from him. Then he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about the boot print bruise on your back. Things did not seem so simple then, but they sure as shit do now. And your heart starts to break even more, realizing that he really, truly trusted Crane. You have no idea why but he did. That’s not for you to judge but he trusted him and Crane only brought him back because he needed something from him. He is just another person that has made Jason Todd feel like there is some sort of condition to his love. And that’s just not fair.

“What?” Jason asks, turning around to look at you.

“You know I love you still, right?” You ask quietly.

Jason shakes his head in confusion, eyes darting up the sky and then back to you. He isn’t sure exactly how to respond to the question. You told him you do. That’s not the same as him believing you though. It’s hard for him to feel like anyone actually loves him right about now. He doesn’t even like himself right now. And with everything Crane just said to him, he’s thinking that maybe you're just saying it so Jason doesn’t walk onto a roof.

“Jay?” You ask quietly. “You know that, right?” Your eyes scan over his face but you don’t see any sign of him acknowledging the question. “Okay, well, I still love you.” You nod your head with confidence. “And if I would have known how to bring you back, I would have done it. Because I love you and I care about you and you deserve to live.” You close the distance between you. "And...you don't owe me shit for it, either. I don't expect anything from you. It's not conditional or transactional for me, okay?"

The last thing you want is for Jason to feel like he's unloved. It's messy as fuck right now and he has a lot to make up for but he's loved anyway. Crane loves to manipulate people and make them feel like they're alone. You can't imagine what the fuck telling Jason he wasn't even wanted back would do but you have to believe Crane had a fucking purpose. So, it doesn't matter where you and Jason stand or what's left of you. You will stand here in the freezing cold all night with him and tell him you love him. Because on days when you felt unloved and unlovable, you had Jason who always countered those thoughts without ever knowing. So, you will always do the same. He deserves it.

Jason’s breath starts to shake as he looks down at you and his chest hurts. He thinks someone might as well be reaching through his ribs and squeezing his own heart until it explodes. You're the only one that has ever made him feel wanted and loved without conditions.

“After everything?” Jason almost scoffs but he can’t quite bring himself to. You look desperate. “Fucking why?” The question almost comes out as a plea.

“Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” You nod your head once and this is different than the first time you said it.

The first time was on accident and you were very clearly terrified. It was something you never intended to ever tell him but it slipped out in a fit of desperation so he’d stop beating himself up. This time though, it is said with confidence and reassurance as if the words were almost meant to leave your lips for only him. And it starts to defrost Jason’s heart, the pain easing in his chest because he knows you mean it.

Jason rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closing and it’s like it's easier to breathe again. He wants to kiss you again. It’s never easy for him to say what he thinks or what he feels but he’s always been able to show it with you. This time though, that is no longer his place. It doesn’t matter that you love him because you are broken up. He can’t overstep that line even if he wants to. The most he can do is rest his forehead against yours and that’s always been just enough.

A smile pulls at your lips before you wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your head to rest in the crook of his neck. Jason’s hands come to your hips and suddenly, it’s like the first day of spring. The air isn’t suffocating or painful. It is fresh and clean, smooth and soft. It’s easy to breathe again and the suffocating coldness lifts from your chests. All it is is warm and welcoming. Just like home.

“Thank you for coming.” Jason mutters into your neck.

“You and me.” You mutter right back, Jason’s hands squeezing around you just a little tighter.

You pull away first, a loving smile on your lips and for just a second as you rest your hand on his cheek, you almost forget you ended things. This, right now, feels like it did before he died. And you almost forget and you almost kiss him to make it all not so heavy. But, it’s just a second and then you remember which means that isn’t your place anymore and you don’t know if it ever will be. So, you drop your hand, the smile falling slightly. You look to your left, sucking a breath but then your brows furrow.

“Is that Dick?” You question, bursting the bubble between the two of you.

Jason turns, following your stare. “Fuck.” Jason groans just as Dick seems to spot the two of you, too because he lifts the face shield of his helmet.

“We should get out of here.” You reach down for Jason’s free hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Jason nods quickly in agreement as the two of you start to walk away but before you could get far, Dick tries to run the red light after you only to get hit by a car going through the green.

You and Jason look between each other before you both let out a breath and start your walk over to Dick to see if he’s okay. You both walk over as Dick rolls over to face you. You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your pocket to call an ambulance while Jason looks down at him. He finds the whole thing a little ironic. Dick is on the ground, clearly out of it and hurt and he could kill him right now. He’s been trying for a week to kill Dick and now is the perfect opportunity but the only reason he’s even thinking about it is because of the irony. He doesn’t even really want Dick dead. Not when he’s clean.

You kneel down, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Ambulance is on the way, I texted Kory and Gar to let them know. You’re an idiot.” You nod at him.

“What…?” Dick asks, looking from you to Jason and then back to you. Dick knows he has a concussion but he’s lost on why Jason is just standing in front of him and why you don’t even seem mildly concerned about what’s going on. What the hell is going on? “Jason?”

You look behind you and Jason’s heart sinks. “Yeah?” You question, looking back to Dick. “You ran into oncoming traffic.” You state sternly as you hear sirens starting to approach. You can see the lights just down the street. “Don’t do anything drastic like die on the way to hospital.” You say softly before you get back to your feet and walk back to Jason. “Let’s go.”

“What? You’re gonna leave him like that?” Jason asks with surprise, that’s unlike you.

“The ambulance is right there.” You point to the flashing lights. “He’ll be fine.” You nod your head once, reaching down for Jason’s hand once more, this time Jason takes it carefully before the two of you head off in the opposite direction.

The two of you get back to Jason's hideout, not having said much to each other on the cold walk over. You both convince yourselves it was all out of self-preservation rather than self-destruction. You follow Jason to the room he led you to last night where he plops down on the mattress still laid out on the floor.

Something about it feels weird because feelings are out in the open unlike before. They were said last time and something came from it but this time, they're words hanging in the air, following them back. Jason doesn't know what to say anymore and you think you've exposed yourself too much again. Nothing can happen between you now, not with everything going on and even if you both want something happen, is that for the best?

It's like something should be happening in the space between you but nothing does because it's all been said and done before. Neither of you quite know where you should stand or where you should lay your hearts to rest. So, it feels weird and it's quiet, both of which are things neither of you like very much between each other.

You shift on your heels, looking around the room. "I, uh, I brought you some more clothes and...stuff." You say softly, nodding towards your backpack near the dresser. You had dropped it off earlier when you were supposed to meet back here.

"Oh, uh, yeah no thank you." Jason nods his head at you and the awkwardness makes him want to chew his own arm off.

"You're welcome." You suck in a breath, looking around the room some more. "Not quite Wayne Manor, huh?" You ask, looking back to Jason.

"It's a roof." Jason shrugs a shoulder casually.

He should have said it back and he knows he should have. But, the words stick to the back of his throat, holding his vocal cords captive. While he gets it, he is still hurt by you leaving him. He knows he deserves it and you had every right to. You should still be gone. He gets it. But, he can still hear the heartbroken laugh you let out echoing in his head and the words that followed and it fucking hurts. He's forgiven you already but...the pain is there anyway. Jason knows he'll get over it but he isn't there yet so the words choke his vocal chords and the air is stiff and awkward between you.

"Yeah." You nod your head before you look back at him. You cannot take this anymore. It has almost never been awkward between you and you can't stand it. The whole thing would be easier if it were easier to just talk about everything. But, that seems too heavy right about now. So, you walk over to your backpack, plucking it from the ground. You walk in front of Jason and crouch down, unzipping your backpack before you pull out a book. "I thought it might help." You hand it over, your hands shaking slightly.

A soft smile starts to pull at Jason's lips as he takes the book from you. "Raided my whole room, huh?"

You grin, mostly to yourself. "Yeah, kind of." You laugh softly. "Brought these, too." You smile widely, pulling out a few more books and handing them over.

Jason looks over his favorite books, you picking up Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein for him of course, but the pick of The Fellowship of the Ring does not go unnoticed. Jason really likes it, sure, but there are other books he's read more around you. He almost laughs at you grabbing this one. And something about the whole thing, makes him feel loved again.

He looks back to you and your eyes are bright just as they always were around him and your smile is turning into something cheeky, as if you know you've just won something Jason isn't aware of. You say loving him is easy and he always finds it so hard to believe, especially right now. But, he looks over the cover of the books and then back to you, and it really is just that easy to you. And while you may need to talk eventually and this whole thing is fucked up and messy, maybe some sort of feeling of how it used to be, would be nice.

He always felt loving you was the easiest thing he'd ever done, too.

So, he smirks back at you.

"You don't have to try so damn hard." Jason quips. "Fucking try-hard."

Your jaw drops as you let out a laugh. "Fuck you! Look who's talking! You're the biggest fucking try-hard I ever met!"

"Bullshit!" Jason laughs. "You were the one who told me with Deathstroke that I wasn't trying hard enough!" Jason fires right back, hoping he can get you to keep laughing. He's really missed your laugh.

You burst into a fit of laughter, almost forgetting about that comment he made. You told him he was the one that needed to get laid and he told you he'd been trying. The comment was never brought up again. Partially because Jason was dropped fifteen stories and partially because it wasn't worth the risk of bringing up if it was a serious comment or not. But, you find the whole thing funny now.

"Well, it was true!" You bite back. "You were an asshole half the damn time!" You know, asshole or not, all Jason had to do was ask and you would have gotten right into bed with him without a second thought. Not that you will ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that though.

"Playing the long game, babe." Jason defends his stance, a smirk dancing over his face as he gestures his hand out to the side.

"I'd fucking say!" You let out a chortle.

"Worked for a while, didn't it?" Jason says and it almost grows sour on his tongue but that's not how he meant the comment. "I mean, had you practically begging a few times." The smirk switches into something sinister and teasing. The confidence radiates off him just like it always did before and you think you could go back and forth like this all night and maybe it would fix everything.

You feel heat start to rise to your cheeks. "Okay listen."

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter and you think it's still the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Uh-huh. I'm listening, babe. All fucking ears." Jason nods his head quickly, knitting his brows together but the smirk is practically glued to his face as if he knows he's just won.

"Fuck you." You nod your head quickly, shrugging your shoulders. "I fucking won! Remember that? I do so everything else, bullshit. I won." You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason's smile starts to soft and tender as he nods his head. "Yeah, guess you did." He says softly.

This feels normal. It feels like it did before, just joking. Sure, being together was better because you could joke and know something else was on the other end of it. The joking as friends was always just fun and that's how this feels again. Fun. And warm. It doesn't feel so heavy at the moment and neither of you feel so alone and you can see it in the way he looks back to the books. You can hear it between the lines of his words because Jason Todd doesn't take losing lightly. You don't particularly want this moment to end. Instead, you want to push it a little bit. Letting him know silently that if even a small part of him is willing, maybe there's hope to get back to how you were before.

"Exactly." You match the softness of his voice. "And you know what, I bet I could get you to cave again." You hold your head with confidence.

Jason pauses for a second, narrowing his eyes at you, unsure if this is a trick. "You really sure about that?" Jason challenges, taking the bait as he leans forward towards you slightly. He, for one, is not going to risk this getting heavy again and you always had a habit of backing out when he actually challenged you.

It's not just you who's been craving this. He has, too. Your game always made him feel wanted and loved and cared for, even before he realized it. That's part of what made it fun for him. And maybe it's too soon to jump into it and maybe you have other things you need to sort out first, but that's not a tonight problem. Tonight's problem is finding a way to deal with the withdrawal and self-hatred burying itself into his bones. Tonight is just about existing with each other for the first time since he's been brought back.

You meet Jason right in the middle, closing most of the distance between you. "Positive." You nod just once.

Jason glances to your lips and then back to you. "I'll take that bet."

You shake your head as a soft laugh escapes your lips. "Alright, Jay. Bet's a bet." You roll your eyes, sticking out your hand and Jason shakes it. "I will never let you win because you will be surely insufferable."

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "Absolutely. I'll never let you live it down. Glad you understand that."

"Shut the fuck up." You lean back on your hands as you roll your eyes. You pause, watching him take a drink from the bottle he's been nursing. He doesn't look too uncomfortable now and the awkwardness has evaporated into ease and comfort. "Hey, Jay?" Sam calls softly.

"You told me to shut the fuck up." Jason quips, not missing a single beat.

"Insufferable." You repeat casually as you nod your head quickly.

"What?" Jason asks softly.

"Wanna read to me?" You ask as hesitance starts to take over your voice. Jason's smile turns soft as he looks to the bottle in his hand and then back to you. He knows he will always read to you whenever you ask. "I mean, if you're up for it. I know you said you feel like shit. I can...try to read to you instead, if you want."

Jason almost forgot he felt like shit. You have always known exactly what to do to distract him from everything horrible going on. It makes him feel even worse over the whole ordeal because while a distraction isn't always the best coping mechanism, it would have been better than everything else he ever did. You always knew how to make the world not feel so heavy and you do it even now and Jason doesn't even think you realize you do it. You just do as if it's in your nature. And he feels better. Somehow.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed as he puts the bottle off to the side before grabbing one of the books. He slides himself back until his back hits the cool wall.

"Really?" You ask with hope in your eyes.

"I owe you, yeah. I can read to you." Jason nods his head once before he opens the book, trying to play off how fast his heart is starting to race.

You smile widely before you climb onto the bed with him, sitting right next to him on your knees. You hesitate for a second because it's not like it was before. Before, you were friends. You were at least friends. And maybe you're friends now, but you're also exes and that feels like it makes it complicated. Last night, Jason was high and devasted. That was different than this. This suddenly feels personal and vulnerable again and you aren't sure you're supposed to be here like this. Not when you broke him.

"You gonna just sit like that or?" Jason questions, a tint of hope in his words because he wants you closer, he's just not sure if that's too invasive now. So, he plays it off just as he's always done as if that's a signal to you that it's okay because you always understood that part of him. "Not gonna fucking bite you." Jason quips, a tint of sarcasm in his voice. "That's your thing."

You shake your head, doing a double take. "Um, last time I checked, you were into it." You blink at him just as Jason looks back to you. He gains a shit-eating grin, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "Yeah, exactly. And you fucking branded me once, remember that?" You point out the time Jason littered you in hickies.

Jason's head hits the wall behind him as he lets out a booming laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. His nose scrunches and you think he's never looked more at peace right now. It's as if he is so proud of himself.

"Yeah, and you were into it, too." Jason lets out a scoff and you want to both kiss and bite the smirk off his face.

Jason looks back to you and you're sitting close, faces just inches from each other. You're looking at with him the fake scowl you always did when you knew you wouldn't have any type of comeback and you'd have to cave and tell him to go fuck himself. But, then Jason sees the corner of your mouth twitch into something cheeky and taunting. And he swears he has never been so captivated by someone before.

"Yeah, I was." You nod your head, throwing Jason the bone as you laugh.

"Fucking exactly." Jason's voice is low this time, brows pulling together.

You glance to his lips and you almost just bite the damn bullet. But, that might ruin what you're doing right now, so you roll your eyes. "Fuck you." Sam scoffs as Jason gains his signature triumphant grin.

"Time and place, babe." Jason beams right back at you.

"Insufferable." You repeat as a warm smile replaces the smirk. "Okay," You suck in a breath. "So, we lay like we always did before?" You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek as your eyes widen slightly with hope.

It hurts a little bit that you're hesitant and Jason knows that's on him. You've never been hesitant in showing him physical affection. Even the first night he read to you, the only reason you stood there is because you were confused as to what Jason was doing. But, the second he asked you to sit, sarcastically with a bite in his voice, you went right to him and cuddled into his side. It has always been that easy and that simple. It should be that way, still. Regardless of everything that's happening. You both can keep that part of you and him.

So, he extends his arm.

"You don't have to ask." Jason states simply and casually because it should always be that simple.

"I just don't want to overstep." You mutter softly, dodging his eyes.

"You can't overstep." Jason almost whispers right back, no sarcasm or bite or snark in his tone.

Things might be hard and Jason might want to push and run and scream and break. He might feel far too exposed again and scared of getting hurt again and scared of everything, but you're the one person who can never overstep. You can do whatever you want and say whatever you want and ask whatever you want.

You give him this genuine and joyful smile as your face softens. "You can't either." You nod your head softly. You scoot down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, placing your arm over his stomach and you feel him relax right under you. He still feels warm and safe, just as he did before.

Once you're comfortable against him, Jason swears this is the safest he has felt since coming back. It is the most comfortable he has felt. He doesn't remember what it was like last night but tonight, he knows he can just exist with you. There are no obligations to anyone or anything. And relief fills his blood, his entire body falling into a state of relaxation and he hadn't even realized he hasn't relaxed at all since coming back. Maybe this is what you both really need. Just one night of normalcy for you both and comfort and safety. Just him and you.

"Thanks again for coming." Jason whispers above your head.

"Always." You whisper right back, running your thumb along the fabric of his hoodie covering his torso. Jason sucks in a breath, running his hand along your hoodie-covered shoulder before Jason's voice about Bilbo's birthday starts to fill the room.

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

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ideas-4-stories · 4 months

Note

Heyyy I'm the non-sexual omegaverse anon, back in your inbox bc YES I LOVE DUMPING IDEAS ABOUT RELATIVELY SFW OMEGAVERSE-!!!!

And yeah boo, me too on the period front. I'm AFAB and SUFFERING. Essentially I consider Heats to be similar to periods - the same basic principles, cramps, cravings, odd other symptoms nobody talks about ((back pain and migraines hello???)), but Ruts are basically the same but opposite. It's a hormone rush. Both are controlled by the endocrine system, both are hormones and chemicals. Both can and do increase libido, but it isn't some absolutely feral Need To Breed type of situation.

Buggy in particular has the omegaverse equivalent of polycystic ovarian syndrome or endometriosis. Wild, heavy, wacked out Heats which knock him flat on his ass.

His main, original crew all knew of his designation bc while Buggy has megaflaws, sexism and misogyny is NOT AMONG THEM. the Buggy Pirates are actually one of the most diverse crews known. They value what you bring, not what you are.

Buggy also has a very strong scent. It's almost impossible to completely hide it, so he and his crew kind of opt to Hide In Plain Sight.

Beyond Karai Bari, the only ones who know Buggy's secondary are the infirmary workers in Impel Down, Shanks, Rayleigh, Crocus and Luffy, but the latter doesn't realize he knows nor that it's a secret. Lu was the first and only person outside of the Roger's who put together "the cute Omega bestie I had when I was tyke" and "buggy the gods damned clown" are one in the same.

After the reveal, Croc and Hawk both go through a bit of a learning curve bc suddenly "do we... treat you differently now? Like, open doors and stuff? We thought the other's did that bc they're simps but maybe we should-"

Buggy is having none of that. He is still the same Jester they had beaten the snot out if three weeks ago. His internal krgans and scent glands don't need to change anything. ((Though he is enjoying the whole not getting beat up thing, maybe keep that up please-???))

All three are kind of dumb and suck at communicating so it ends up being a bit of a hot mess. The main point if contention is Buggy thinking they're warming up to him because he's an Omega.

It's not that. Not really.

They just found Buggy going apeshit on that one Alpha bastard to be absolutely bewitching and have since realized he has been holding back on some level. Buggy in that fight was ruthless, efficient, and while it was fueled by hormones and a base instinct to protect and nurture, it was executed with skill, control and power. There is potential in that, in him. His fighting style would never be an all out brawl. But Buggy is sharp, witty, creative and could do some serious damage if he had the confidence and will to back it up. They don't care WHAT is happening in his abdomen. They're attracted to power, charisma, and apparently red nosed blue haired clowns who will not hesitate to beat a man with another man's severed arm. They were surprised too.

Shanks is both delighted that Buggy has suitors and is livid that Buggy has suitors. It's not even apossessove thing (maybe a little), it's that THAT IS HIS PACKMATE and they were RAISED TOGETHER and that's HIS BUGGY and NOBODY IS GOOD ENOUGH except maybe Mihawk BUT HE DOESN'T KNOW CROCODILE WELL ENOUGH TO MAKE AN OPINION SO THAT'S ILLEGAL.

He then cries when Buggy, upon being told this, deadpans, "Shanks, I'm a pirate. Breaking laws is kinda in the job description."

He is Suffering.

Buggy is actually doing pretty swell, being courted by two surprisingly good Alphas.

Ray and Crocus meanwhile both perk up on opposit sides of Paradise like I feel the sudden need to check on the blue one...

Anyway yeah that just seems funny and silly and am half asleep so I'll stop now but ily byeee~ 🍬🍬

Hello No-Sexual Omegaverse Anon!

Heats like periods, that would makes sense to have it like that (I hate the back pain, why is it there!?) Ooooo I really like your idea of the Omegaverse, I wish to see it more in stories and Buggy on having polycystic ovarian syndrome or endometriosis. Got to look that stuff up and indeed YIKES! Really poor Buggy, getting the short end of the stick there. At least he has great friends that he has surrounded himself with.

We stand for Buggy’s megaflaws (we ain’t here to fix him, we are here to watch him be the silly guy that he is) and of course, Buggy does NOT stand for sexism and misogyny because why does it matter if you are male, female, or inbetween. I love the idea that Buggy Pirates are one of the most diverse crews on the high seas because HELL FUCKING YEAH!!! Damn right on valuing what you bring, and not what you are. That makes sense in any workforce. If can get the job done, why does it matter about your gender/sex/sexualitly? Actaully my plan for some Buggy Pirates OCs have a diverse cast of race/gender/sexuality/etc… because A). diversy is the bomb and makes the most realstilc sense and B).Everyone being the same is. Fucking. BORING!

I love the fact that Buggy and his crew Hides in Plain Sight, this rings true in canon too… I beileve, because Buggy was always there in East Blue for anyone could put two-and-two together that Buggy was apart of Roger Pirates if anyone actaully looked. But barely anyone did because of how open Buggy is being the Flashy Fool, I mean how Buggy brags about his achivements, people would think that Buggy would brag that he was apart of the Roger Pirates. But he never did, so that’s a baseless rumor (that turned out to be true)

Ooooooo, having Impel Down infirmary workers knowing that he is a Omega might have a problem in the future… or not. It depends on who the infirmary workers are as people. Love how Luffy doesn’t care that Buggy is a Omega, just some moron clown that he kicked in the crotch in Orange town, and now onto “The cute Omega bestie I had when I was tyke” Does that mean Luffy and Buggy met before Orange Town? Albeit prending to be someone else, so when they met at Orange Town it took Luffy sometime to put two-n-two together?

Heehee, not Crocodile and Mihawk thinking that they have to act like everyone else. I mean, they should way nicer to him (indeed Buggy would really like not getting his ass beaten up), but like if they do that, it would shock the fuck out of too many people. News Coo getting this and making some drama brew. Everyone sees this, the strawhats, the red-hair pirates, and just the world in general. Chaos insues

Ahhh, don’t we all love some old men being stupid and unable to communicate with a least a speck of commone sense. It boils into a hot mess, with people crying… cough Buggy cough Poor Buggy thinking they are only warming up to him because he probably thinks they feel bad for beating the shit out of a omega when in fact it’s because he decided to beat the shit out of a disgusting alpha who was being creepy and yucky. As well as knowing that the clown has been holding back his strength and power for some reason.

I love the headcanon that Buggy can fight ruthless and efficient. Buggy ain't one for a full on brawl because he uses things in his surroundings to his advantage. Bro will use whatever, a chair leg, a metal pipe, the heel of a shoe, etc… because people fighting him are probably not fighting fair and square. Love him using his mind and creativity to win a fight. He was trained by the Roger Pirates, Buggy definitely has potential, all he needs is some more confidence and weapons to back him up.

Damn right it's nothing about what's in his abdomen. It's all about seeing the clown beating a man with another man's arm! (Love that for Buggy)

Brooo, Shanks being delighted and livid that Buggy has suitors trying to court him is so fucking funny. Because what you say is just want, I think Shanks would think, your Shanks is spot on to me. I love how Shanks is a crybaby much like Buggy, it’s just different reasons for why they cry. Love that Shanks is suffering, when Buggy just deadpans and states the obvious.

Heehee not Rayleigh and Crocus feeling like they need to check on Buggy, their parental sense is finally kicking in after years they should of have their parental sense running wild. Not the reason is because of Buggy is getting courted, like 😂🤣😂

#one piece #buggy pirates #cross guild #one piece omegaverse #buggy the clown #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #buggy #crocodile #mihawk #buggy the bombastic clown #buggy the star clown #mr. 0 #hawkeye mihawk #buggy the flashy fool #buggy the genius jester #ideas~4~stories says #ask

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hell-drabbles · 2 months

Note

Wait after seeing your Lucifer pieces

I just realised do you know how shattering it'd be if Lucifer is the first person to see Companion after their anglification or after their fall

Lucifer watching his friend returned into a angel knowing full well what they'll go through and how he feels when he sees their mangled body fall to the earth of hell staining the ground like his did

Even better in Raqi timeline

Only he and Raqi know Companion is back and has to take care of them

I imagine Companion is in a vegetable state for a while before making enough recovery to think and speak

Dante Anon

Yeah you'd have to think of how the bones have probably set wrong, so they'd have to be reset. Their vision will definitely not be right for many a day, so, in their heavy brain fog and migrained state, the Embittered Companion would think they're back in the hands of the angels. Whatever healing the devils are trying to do is made excruciatingly hard because, for that moment, the Companion body keeps rejecting that power. Ever fierce, ever spiteful.

They'll need sponge baths for a time, then they'll need assistance for regular bathing so there'd be a shower chair for them to sit on while they're being washed. And then there's the physical therapy to think about. Man, their body is going to be such a hurting mess. Lot of chronic pain, tremors, cramps. Ouchies.

Recovery just ain't a sexy process but the dedication behind it is nice nonetheless.

Ah, Raqiel hasn't been in my head in a whiiiile. My boy! I have forgotten my boy! Anyways, Raqi over here doesn't hold the biggest reputation but his name has passed by others lips enough for Lucifer to probably have heard of him. After all, a lot of the bloodlust-y techniques that the angels use can be attributed to Raqi, so there's probably a certain amount of caution Lucifer has towards Raqi, but not in the sense that he feels Raqi will be of any danger to him. Raqi has most definitely heard of Lucifer but has probably only seen him just as Lucifer fell out of Heaven. To Raqi, Lucifer was the falling star that had him questioning just how strong his own love towards God is, how deep does his dedication truly go? Never really thought to question it up until now, Raqi was simply going with the flow.

"To me, Lucifer was always wingless." is what Raqi would probably say.

But anyways, once those first meetings are out of the way, I feel Raqi and Lucifer wouldn't mind being around one another, seeing as they're fellow outliers in the grand scheme of things. Can potentially annoy Lucifer when the topics of Raqi's kinks come up. He gets pretty talkative about them, which is amusing in it's own way considering how the angels usually are, but the novelty will probably wear away after a certain point.

That being said, I can imagine that Lucifer found the Companion first and probably sent for Raqiel to come to Paradise Lost, because he most certainly was looking for the Companion harder than anyone else.

#admin #embittered companion au #dante.anon

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dimancheetoile · 2 months

Text

uh, hi.

maybe you're seeing this on your dash and thinking "hum, this username is kinda familiar". maybe you do remember me, in which case, again, hi.

i've been gone for an entire year. it hasn't been a great one. for those who read my posts before, you might already know this, but for everyone else, I was born with a rare genetic condition. on top of that, i had a very serious accident at 13 that more or less destroyed my right leg. i haven't been able to walk right since then, and it hasn't been helped by the following years of botched surgeries, complications from the operation, misdiagnosis and medical malpractice. i'm left with a barely functional leg that has a permanently torn set of ligaments, collapsed nerves and debilitating, constant, torturous chronic pain.

then i had a weird relapse of sorts. a bucketful of symptoms. hives and flushing, limbs and joints swelling, rashes, trouble breathing, sudden drops in blood pressure, heart rate above 100 at rest, stomach cramps, nausea, headaches, migraines, chronic fatigue, confusion, memory loss, dizziness and loss of consciousness. it's called MCAS.

i can't describe to you what it's like to never be well. to never wake up in a body that feels right, even just ok. to always have something going wrong, something painful, something that doesn't work right.

i'm hooked up to an oxygen machine twice a day. i wear a compression garment that goes from my ankles up to the tips of my fingers. i have to do two self-injections every month. i live with additional compressive equipment for both my knees, both my ankles, both my wrists, an elbow. i have a machine with electrodes i can put on painful areas to electrocute them and sometimes, it helps with the pain. i have to use pain-relief plasters and poultices a couple times a day.

i have premature arthritis. the arthritis in my back ate all the cartilage of my last three vertebrae (the ones above your tailbones, your lower back) so i'm like a car with no suspensions. my vertebrae are rubbing against each other with nothing in between to protect them, my discs are crushed, i have severe sciatica. chronic light sensitive migraines.

my joints don't hold. since january, I dislocated my left knee leading to a synovium effusion (big pocket of the lube in your joint that gathers and forms a ball and it pushes on your nerves, ligaments, tendons and tissue); i sprained my left ankle and it tore my external ligament and heel ligament. i dislocated a bunch of my fingers multiple times.

oh, i also got diagnosed with endometriosis and PCOS.

i live bedridden now. i have an entire grocery bag of medication sitting by my bed so i can reach it easily. opioids, neuropathic pain medication, anti-inflammatory medication, a medication that completely stops my period.

and that's without mentioning the hours and hours of hospital visits, specialists, family doctors, physical therapists, etc.

i'm gonna be honest. same time last year, i was having a hard time. i had turned 25 in january and moved into my first apartment since uni. it's in the same village as my mom which is the only reason i could live independently. so i was just 25 and all the MCAS stuff was happening on top of everything else and i had this realisation that this was what the rest of my life would look like, but worse, because my disease is degenerative. it gets worse as you age.

so i was just 25 and i realised i had the next 50 to suffer through this and more, and suddenly i didn't want to be here anymore. there was no ideation, it was more a complete break down of my hopes for the future. what was my future going to look like in this cursed body?

anyway, i collapsed under the mental pressure, my health continued to worsen. what i used to be able to do was no so much harder, and sometimes impossible. i was a 25-year-old in a prison of their own flesh. i couldn't deal with the rest of the world, so i cut myself off from it.

i'm doing better now, mentally. physically, it's only gotten worse. as i write this, i'm reaching for my pain meds because everything below my right knee is screaming in agony and i have a splitting headache. this is a good day for me.

thank you, if you've read this far. thank you, if you thought about me even once in the past year. i'm not asking for anything, except maybe to talk with you if you have a similar story. i feel so alone in this hell, it'd be nice to talk to someone.

i love you all.

-mako

#mako talks #disability #invisible disability #chronic pain #chronically ill

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clarepreed · 1 year

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Story Summary and Content - 5,716 words. Will discovers Melanie has succumbed to heat stroke on her run. Hyperthermia, seizure, cardiac arrest. On-site resuscitation, Stryker LUCAS 3 device, ambiguous ending.

Will

“Are you sure?” he murmured, speaking close to her ear. Strands of her corn silk hair stirred with his breath. “The guys will be absolutely fine if you play disc golf with us. And maybe you shouldn’t get too hot. We started a lot later than we meant to.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. One more time to try to get to know them before I give up.” Melanie made a face, her freckled nose crinkling. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I don’t blame you,” Will said. For some reason, his friends Avery and Meegan didn’t seem to get along with his fiancée. Granted, he thought most of it was Meegan, with Avery not speaking up out of a misguided sense of loyalty.

We’re all too old to behave like that, he thought, angry and frustrated that he couldn’t fix the situation.

He didn’t understand how they couldn’t like Melanie. He was biased, of course, but she was wonderful. One of the kindest people he knew. That understandable statement about “giving up” was one of the strongest things she’d ever said against someone.

Will leaned in to give her a hug. Her skin was already damp and warm, her cheeks flushed. Petite and on beta blockers for migraines, the heat often got to her before he even noticed the temperature was unpleasant. “Drink plenty of water, find some shade, and I hope you have fun. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“Love you,” she said, stretching up to kiss him.

Melanie

She was lost.

After almost ninety minutes of thinly veiled disdain from Meegan and silent discomfort from Avery, Melanie really had given up.

She’d run out of water forty-five minutes prior and was obviously not close enough to the other women to ask for some of theirs. Nauseated and headachy, she didn’t think she could stand the two of them another minute.

“I’m going to head back to the parking lot,” she’d told them, leaning down to rub her cramping calf muscle. “I don’t feel very good.”

Avery stirred at that, asking: “Are you okay? You look like you’re getting a sunburn.”

Before Melanie could answer, Meegan made an annoyed sound and tossed her hair. “Let her go if she wants to go, Avery! Jesus!”

Melanie looked at Avery. “The two of you will be okay?”

“Obviously!” Meegan barked, making Avery blink at her rude tone.

Melanie shrugged, sighed, and left, fighting back self-pitying tears as she ran down the trail. Running was difficult and painful with leg and side cramps, but she knew she’d need to get back and drink some water before that would get any better.

At some point, however, she’d taken a wrong turn, or multiple wrong turns, and now she was lost, the sun beating down on her every time she emerged from the canopy and the humidity overwhelming her when she ran back into a wooded section. She wasn’t even on normal trail anymore; she’d ended up on a paved section that she kept expecting would terminate at the parking lot and yet somehow never did.

Melanie ran down the hill and stopped in the patch of shade at the bottom, dragging her phone out of the deep pocket in the side of her navy blue leggings.

Sweat made it hard for her to grip the phone. It poured out of her, dripping off her nose, trickling down her spine. She couldn’t get her thumbprint to read on the device, and then she realized she still didn’t have any service anyway, so unlocking the device didn’t matter. She shoved the phone in her pocket and shook her water bottle before remembering she was out of water and had been out for a while. The bottle slipped from her hands without her even noticing, dropping into the dead grass with only the quietest of sounds.

“I think there’s an intersection of trails up ahead,” she muttered, squinting through her smudged sunglasses. “And hopefully legible signs.”

The last signs she’d passed were too faded to read.

Heaving a sigh and feeling queasy, Melanie took off at a jog. The sun beat down on her shoulders and stung her scalp. She was sure she’d long since sweated off her sunscreen. The bottle was back in the car along with her day pack, since the plan had been to stay out fewer than two hours. Fair-haired and freckled, Melanie knew she should have known better.

She also should have known better than to be out there at all. The fact that she was the only one walking the cracked, paved trail told her everything she needed to know. Melanie increased her pace, hoping to get to the next intersection soon.

If there had been anyone else out there, they would have noticed that she was all over the place, struggling to keep herself upright and moving forward.

Will

He was so shocked he repeated himself. “She just ran off?” He’d already checked his phone; no messages or calls from Melanie.

“Ave, you’ve been gone… hours!” Loren, Avery’s boyfriend, exclaimed.

“She doesn’t like us and she didn’t feel good so she said she was just going to come back here.” Avery shrugged, though she had the grace to look concerned. “I thought she knew how to get back! I did ask her if she was okay.”

Will ignored the comment about Melanie “not liking” his friends and reached up to grab his topknot. It was a nervous gesture. “She wasn’t feeling good? In what way?”

“It’s really fucking hot out here,” Meegan replied in an exasperated tone, fanning herself with her hand as she sipped water. “She was hot like the rest of us!”

“We should have come back with her,” Avery said, giving Meegan a What’s wrong with you? look. “She had leg cramps and said she was nauseated. Her skin was really red. She, uh, ran out of water really early, too.”

Will spat out a quiet curse and then said: “She’s on medication. She gets hot fast… what the hell, Avery!”

Avery paled, looking at her boyfriend.

“What do you want to do, Will?” Loren asked, shaking his head.

“Look for her! If the girls beat her back, something’s wrong or she got lost.” He gestured toward the parking lot. “I’m gonna load my pack up with water.”

“I’m sure she’ll be back any minute,” Meegan said, her tone saccharine and dismissive. “You shouldn’t have to give up your second round. I’m sure she’ll call.”

“None of us had service out there!” Avery protested.

“It’s too hot for a second round anyway,” their friend Bruce said.

Will slung his backpack of discs onto his back and jogged to his station wagon. Opening the back hatch, he dumped his discs in the car before filling his bag with Melanie’s sunscreen and water from the cooler.

“Avery and I are coming with you,” he heard Loren say. “Just give us two minutes.

“Alright.” Will closed the back hatch and slung his bag over his shoulders. “And the others?”

“Bruce, Meegan and Doug are staying back in case she shows up here. Also, because Meegan is a bitch.”

“Melanie doesn’t have a problem with Avery and Meegan,” Will said, his tone harsh.

“I know. It’s just ‘cause Meegan wants you to bone her.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Loren shrugged and called out: “You ready, Avery?”

The three of them ran down out of the parking lot and onto the main trail. Will noticed the pavement shimmering ahead.

“Shit it’s so hot out here.” He cringed at the way the hot air burned in his chest.

He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach.

Melanie

She wasn’t going to be able to keep up her current pace.

The sun continued to beat down on her, drilling into her skull and giving her a throbbing headache. And she was running out of steam; whatever energy she’d had earlier had drained away with the sweat.

She looked into the distance. The sky farther out was dark, looking very much like a thunderstorm was headed her way. She hoped it was moving quickly; in addition to the heat, the air was humid, and breathing felt a bit like sucking on the steam from a boiling pot of water.

She tried to remember the max length of the paved trail, but couldn’t. One arm eventually connected to the municipal Greenway.

That thought made her stumble. She snatched her sunglasses off her face, tried to wipe them off on her shirt.

“I’m not on the Greenway, am I?” She muttered, looking around her for any markers that would identify where she was. There was a bench ahead on the right, but that didn’t help her locate herself; they were all over the place. “Dammit…”

She felt strange. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, and it was hard to catch her breath. She staggered to a stop.

Melanie’s eyelids fluttered, and the world around her canted dangerously to one side. Her right leg folded, and she fell over, landing hard in the broken asphalt running along the edge of the trail. Her legs burned with a series of scrapes and cuts, and she rolled onto her back, flinging an arm over her eyes to block the glare.

Moving around like that made the nausea build and her mouth tingle. She laid there for a while, thinking the nausea would subside. Instead, it built, making her stomach pulsate.

Gagging, she pushed herself upright and tried to spit into the dirt. Her mouth was too dry, and she couldn’t pull together enough moisture to spit.

Can’t stay here. She had a niggling feeling that something might be wrong with that thought, that embarking on what already felt like an endless search for the right trail might be a bad idea. She didn’t have the wherewithal to examine the thought further.

Melanie forced herself to her hands and knees, then wavered there for a long time before she gained her feet. She’d stopped sweating at some point, and her skin felt tight and hot. Standing took her several tries, but eventually she hauled herself upright.

Thirsty…

Hot.

She shuffled downhill, her thoughts a useless, whirring pinwheel.

Will…

Melanie panted, feeling like each breath was incrementally harder, desperately trying to suck in another.

Her last truly coherent thought was that this had all happened faster than she would have guessed.

Momentum carried her down the slope until her legs gave out, and she muttered “Oops” as she landed hard on her knees. She tipped over, dumping herself on the hot asphalt. She hit on her right side, giving her temple a glancing blow, then sprawled on her back, eyes closing against the bright sun.

Will

“We’re going to have to split up when the trails do,” Will said, anxiety making his tone more commanding than usual. They’d been running for fifteen minutes so far with no sign of Melanie. “We don’t know which way she went.”

“How do you want to—”

Loren was interrupted by Avery, who came to an abrupt stop, nearly causing her boyfriend to run right into her. Before he could speak, she burst out: “Is that her?! Straight ahead and up the hill?”

Will squinted. The asphalt was still shimmering, and he didn’t see what she was talking about. He was about to call whatever she was seeing a mirage, when he blinked and the glimmering mirage coalesced into an identifiable shape. There was a small person laying in a crumpled heap on the hot pavement.

“Oh my God!” Will took off at a sprint, his feet slamming the pavement. “Melanie! Melanie!”

When he reached her, he threw himself down, his bare knees making contact with the hot asphalt. “Ah! Fuck! Mel?!”

She was sprawled on her back, eyes closed. Her face was so red he could hardly see her blonde eyebrows. He could hear and see her breathing fast and shallow. She’d been sweating heavily at some point, based on the stains in her shirt and the way the fine hair around her face stuck to her skin. When he touched her, however, her skin felt hot and dry.

Loren and Avery stopped close by, and he heard Avery say: “Oh my God!”

Will gathered Melanie’s limp body in his arms and staggered to his feet, carrying her a few meters away to a shadier spot in the grass. Loren helped him lower her to the ground, supporting her neck and saying: “Will, it looks like she hit her head.”

Loren was right; he could see an abrasion along her left temple.

“I’m running back for help,” Avery said. She held a sweating water bottle out to Loren. “That was frozen this morning, it’s still really cold. I’m going back to where I have signal and calling 9-1-1, she needs an ambulance!”

“Please,” Will said, shrugging out of his back pack. “Tell them she has heat stroke, she’s unconscious and breathing fast… She takes propranolol, it makes it hard for her to regulate her temperature!”

Loren cracked open the bottle of icy water as his girlfriend took off downhill.

“Melanie!” Will called, giving her arms and hands a quick squeeze. Loren poured water in her hair and over her neck. “Melanie, please, open your eyes! Dammit, we shouldn’t have even come out here today! Melanie!”

They soaked her clothing and tucked bottles still cold from Will’s cooler underneath her arms, hoping that would help.

“We can’t give her any unless she wakes up,” Will said. He was patting Melanie’s face, lightly slapping her. “Wake up, honey. Melanie!”

“You’re right.” Loren leaned back on his heels. “What else can we do?”

“We just need to keep her from getting worse while we wait on the ambulance.” Will watched her pant for a while, then slid his thumb up to her eyelid. He pried them open one at a time, but he didn’t know what he was looking for. Her light eyes stared up and through him before each lid slipped closed again. “Melanie!”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Jesus, I can’t tell if she’s cooled off at all. Do you remember what happens when someone has heat stroke?”

Loren crouched by Melanie’s head, looking almost as worried as Will felt. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t. Just… if someone is red, dry, and unconscious, you call 9-1-1.”

Will grasped her shoulder and shook her. “Melanie!”

“Huh.” Melanie let out a grunt, and Will saw her eyelids flutter.

“Melanie, hey, open your eyes. It’s Will. I’ve got you and help is coming. Just open your eyes.” To his immense relief, she did. Her blue-grey eyes shifted restlessly, never quite focusing on him. She was still breathing fast and shallow, and he rested his hand on her chest, his touch feather light.

“Take a deep breath for me, Melanie. You’re breathing so fast, I bet it’s making you dizzy.”

“Wh… where…?” she whispered. He could feel her heart beating, so rapid it was hard for him to discern the individual beats.

“You’re still at the park,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm. He pressed two of his fingers into her neck, feeling around until he found her pulse. “Just relax, Mel. Take a deep breath.”

“Unh…” Her eyelids fluttered, her face slackening.

“Keep your eyes open, Mel.”

Her eyes closed, and for a long moment all he could hear was the rapid pants of her labored breathing. As he watched her, her body stiffened, back bowing and a strange cry tearing from her lips. The whites of her eyes showed as her lids opened to slits. The panting sound stopped.

“Mel! Melanie!” He put his hand back on her chest. “Breathe! Can you breathe?”

She went briefly limp, then her body started jerking. He heard her breathe again, whistling through her clenched teeth.

“She’s having a seizure!” Loren exclaimed. “Like when my nephew had those fever seizures!”

Will wanted nothing more than to make it stop. He smoothed her blonde hair back from her forehead. She was making little grunting sounds, and a small amount of sticky white saliva frothed up between her lips. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay…”

The seizure didn’t last long. Her body relaxed, jaw unclenching. She was taking short, shallow breaths, though now they were much further apart.

Will wiped the saliva off her face with the bottom of his shirt and then opened her mouth, trying to make sure she wasn’t going to choke on something inside. As he leaned close, she took a breath. There was a long pause, then she took another.

She let it out, and he waited.

And waited.

“Melanie.” Will shook her shoulder hard.

“Did she just—”

“Melanie, take a breath!”

She remained unresponsive, her chest still. Will’s eyes darted across her face, looking for any signs of movement.

“No, no, no—” He leaned over and grasped her jaw, then pressed his mouth to hers and blew hard. He felt air escape her nostrils and belatedly pinched her nose before blowing into her mouth again. This time, her chest rose, one of her small breasts brushing against his arm.

He was at an odd angle, so he moved perpendicular to her body, tipped her head back, and forced another breath into her lungs. Her chest rose, but otherwise she laid motionless.

“Does she have a pulse?” Loren asked as Will was breathing for her again. Will pressed his fingers into her neck, felt her pulse flutter under his touch.

“Yes, but it’s so fast…” He kept breathing into her, watching her chest rise and fall. Her mouth was over-warm under his, and her skin beneath his hands felt feverish. “Take a breath, Mel. Come on, please.”

To his shock, she did, her chest rising out of sync with the breaths he’d been giving her. She exhaled, and another breath followed a few seconds later.

“That’s right, baby, just keep breathing in and out. Help will be here soon, and they’ll get you cooled off…” He clasped her hand in both of his, feeling her engagement ring against his palm. “In and out. In and out. You’re doing so good. In and out. I love you…”

Will scanned her with his eyes. Her lips looked dusky.

“Does she have any health problems?” Loren asked.

“Just migraines, but the medicine makes her kind of temperature sensitive. Fuck! I shouldn’t have brought her here today, and I should have called for help when she didn’t come back! Melanie!”

Her breaths seemed fewer and farther between, and he released her hand so he could tip her head back and rest his other hand on her chest. “You have to keep breathing, Mel. The ambulance will be here soon and they’ll make you feel better. Please, baby.”

He looked up at Loren. “How long do you think it will take them to get here?”

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” his friend reassured him. “There’s a hospital not too far from here!”

Melanie sighed, and he waited.

Several seconds passed and Will realized she’d stopped breathing again. He bent over her and pinched her nose, blowing a breath deep into her lungs. Then he pressed his fingers into her neck.

He adjusted his positioning once, twice. Waited.

“No…” The word was like an exhalation.

“What is it?” Loren asked, his voice sharp. “Will, what—”

“I think she just died.” His voice cracked, shock running through him like a jolt from a live wire.

Loren was silent for a few seconds, and then he burst into action, crawling around to her other side. “Will, if you mean she doesn’t have a pulse, then we have to do CPR!”

Will watched his friend bend over Melanie, hands clasping together before he pressed them to her sternum. His arms were straight and he rocked his shoulders over his hands, pressing down hard. Melanie let out a huff of air and Loren started counting, his compressions forceful enough to make her head rock and her feet sway.

“…four, five, six, seven…”

Will reached down and took Melanie’s hot, limp hand, squeezing it. Then he released her fingers and grabbed one of the water bottles tucked against her, already warm from her body and the air. He poured the water over her scalp, his hand making a gentle dam to keep the water off her face.

“…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” Loren stopped pressing on her chest. “Will! Give her two breaths! Quick!”

Will dropped the empty bottle, noticing that Loren picked up the other. As he leaned over her and forced air into her lungs, Loren emptied the contents of the bottle over her chest.

“If we keep oxygen circulating, the medics might be able to revive her,” Loren said. “They have medication, and a defibrillator, and—”

He stopped speaking so he could start compressions again. “One, two, three…”

Will picked up his empty pack and used it to fan her, hoping the breeze on her wet skin would cool her off. He was trying to decide how long it would have taken Avery to get back to the parking lot, given she was headed downhill and not checking out any side paths.

“…twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! Breathe, Will!”

Will complied, watching her chest rise with each breath and blinking back a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea. Loren started compressions again, her shoulders twitching each time he forced her sternum down. Halfway through the set, Will heard a crunch, followed by a gagging sound from Loren.

“What was that?!” he gasped.

Loren was breathing hard and just shook his head. “…twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty! I think it’s normal, either way we can’t stop, Will!”

Will gave her another two deep breaths. It was disconcerting how warm and soft her lips were, even though, as far as he could tell, she was dead. He let his hand rest on her forehead, his thumb smoothing the fine hairs of her eyebrow. He thought he’d understood that anyone could die at any time, but looking down at her, thinking about all of the plans they’d made, he realized he hadn’t truly believed it. She was supposed to be invincible.

His head ached with regret and grief.

“…thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…”

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back. Melanie, please come back…”

“…twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

He ran a finger down the bridge of her nose. She had a small nose with a straight bridge and the faintest of wrinkles near the tip from repeatedly scrunching up her face. Usually to laugh at something he’d said.

“Thirty!”

He pressed his lips to hers again and gave her his breath.

“One more round and then we need to switch, my arms are getting tired!”

Another breath. “Okay. You’ll let me know if I’m fucking it up?”

“Yeah—two, three, four, five…”

Close as he was, he could hear spurts of air escape her lips each time Loren shoved his hands down into her breastbone. The pressure made her throat click.

“…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen…”

“Please, please, please don’t die, don’t die… Please don’t die, Mel.” He made himself shut up and took a deep breath, tears pricking his eyes and a wave of dizziness rolling over him. She couldn’t afford for him to lose his shit.

“Thirty!”

Will leaned over to give her two more breaths, and then he shifted down her body, clasping his hands together and pressing the heel between her breasts. Loren reached out and pulled him forward so that his shoulders were over his hands, and then Will shoved them down into her sternum. Her chest gave to the pressure, and he felt a sick chill roll through him. He popped back up and then pushed her chest down again, noticing as he did so that her stomach bulged slightly with each thrust of his hands.

“…three, four, five, six, seven…”

“That looks good, Will. I think we’ve been doing it right, helping her right…”

“…fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen…” What am I going to tell her parents? I’m supposed to protect her.

What am I going to tell MY parents?

“…twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!” Will leaned back, panting more from emotion than exertion, watching as Loren tipped Melanie’s head and gave her two rescue breaths. Her chest rose and fell with each, and then it was Will’s turn.

As he started the new round of compressions, a sound pricked his ears. A siren.

“…two, three… Loren, is—”

“That’s the fucking ambulance!” Loren shouted. “Keep going, don’t stop, they’ll tell us when to stop—”

“…twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, if you can hear me, baby, help is coming… God…” He could feel himself starting to shake.

Loren cut in: “Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two…”

Will took a deep breath and continued counting for himself as his hands forced her ribcage to flex. “Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!”

Loren’s breaths inflated Melanie’s chest, and then Will went back to compressions. The sound of the ambulance siren energized him, and he made himself compress her sternum hard and fast.

“One, two, three, four, five—”

“I see it!”

“…seven, eight, nine, ten…”

The ambulance came to a halt on the path beside them. Will glanced up long enough to see Avery jump out of the passenger seat, her eyes huge as she realized that Will and Loren were performing CPR.

“Oh God, she stopped breathing?!”

“…twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five…”

Someone touched his shoulder. “Sir, we’ve got her now. You did a good job.”

He glanced over. A dark-haired, female paramedic crouched beside him, already leaning around to press her fingers into Melanie’s neck. Will lifted his hands and then scrambled backward. When he tried to stand, he stumbled. A tall paramedic grabbed him under the arm, steadying him until he could stand on his own.

“Are you alright?” the man asked.

“Yes, I…” He felt like he was floating. His head pounded and his stomach throbbed, something that he hadn’t allowed himself to notice before. Everything started to spin and shimmer around him.

The medic squinted at him. “Let’s set you down.”

Will let the medic help him to the ground and then waved him off. “Help her!”

“Got another one, need to get them both in the air con…”

Loren crouched next to him, looking worried. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I went over for a second to check on Avery.” His girlfriend hovered at the tree line, her loud sobs cutting through the sound of everything else.

The female paramedic was giving Melanie compressions now, her back to the tree line. This meant he could see the effect the forceful thrusts had on Melanie’s body. She seemed to cave in around the woman’s hands, over and over again in a rapid assault.

The tall paramedic kneeled by Melanie’s head, opening packets and laying things out beside him. Will watched him grasp Melanie’s head and carefully thrust her jaw forward. He slipped something metallic into her mouth that turned on a light when he cranked it open.

The third paramedic, a stocky younger man, was starting an IV.

“Hold compressions,” the tall medic said. He threaded a tube down the length of the metal device, then retracted the device and connected a bag to the end of the tube.

The medic who’d been doing compressions pressed the bell of her stethoscope to Melanie’s chest while he squeezed the bag, then nodded and immediately started compressions again. The tall paramedic secured the tube with tape, then reached down to pick up a cold pack, activating it with a firm squeeze of his hands and shaking it.

He tucked the pack under Melanie’s arm, then reached for another.

The paramedic with the IV began to apply electrodes to Melanie��s chest, working around the medic performing compressions. He connected the leads to a monitor and a high-pitched whine filled the air. Will heard someone say: “Asystole. Pushing epinephrine.”

More cold packs were applied to her body. The paramedic performing chest compressions switched off with the tall paramedic and started squeezing the bag.

Will clutched at his head, his breath coming fast. The paramedics were working quickly, but nothing they did seemed to change anything. The monitor whined. Melanie’s lips stayed ashen. Her body continued to limply accept the abuse, her shoulders twitching, small breasts trembling. The tube between her teeth swayed.

“Pulse check!” The medics all reached in, one pressing fingers to her neck, the other her wrist, the third pressing his gloved fingers next to her groin. After ten seconds, he heard: “No pulse, continue compressions, unpack the Lucas!”

The stocky paramedic got up and jogged to the ambulance.

“What?” Will asked quietly, glancing over at Loren. “What did they say?”

“They said they were going to ‘unpack the Lucas,’ but I don’t know what that means.”

Avery had stopped sobbing, Will realized. She was sitting much like he was, with her hands gripping her head, her eyes staring hard at Melanie’s lifeless body.

The stocky man ran back with a plastic case and set it beside Melanie. He quickly opened up the case and pulled out a yellow plastic board, which he laid on the grass above her head. Will saw him pull other equipment out of the case, but he didn’t have any context for what any of it was and he didn’t want to delay the medics by asking questions.

The tall medic stopped compressions and the female medic slid an arm under Melanie’s back. She lifted, propping Melanie’s unconscious body upright. She was only sitting up for a short time, just long enough for the stocky medic to slide the yellow board under her back, but Will saw her face before her head sagged backward. Some of the red coloring had faded, but instead of red she was going purple-gray.

He would never be able to express what it was like to watch the woman he’d planned to marry flop limply as the paramedics laid her dusky, half naked body back down.

As soon as they got her flat, the tall medic started compressing her chest again and the female paramedic reattached the bag to the tube, squeezing it regularly. The stocky medic picked up something from the case, what looked to Will like a motor with two plastic arms that curved out from the bottom. The stocky medic clipped the arms into slots on the yellow board while the tall medic lifted his hands off of Melanie’s chest, reaching for what looked like a suction cup at the base of a piston. He directed the cup down to Melanie’s naked chest and then pressed a button on the side of the motor. The cup thumped down hard into the center of her chest, and a new sound joined the deadly whine: nn-hit, nn-hit, nn-hit. Will watched them fasten a harness over Melanie’s shoulders.

“Push another epi and then let’s get her on the bus,” the female medic said. While the stocky medic was giving Melanie medication, the tall medic took her right arm and strapped her wrist to the motor. Then the stocky medic took her wrist with the IV and lifted that arm, attaching the strap loosely and sliding his finger under the strap to make sure it wasn’t trapping the IV tubing.

All the while, the machine pistoned itself with precision into Melanie’s chest as the remaining paramedic squeezed the bag. Will realized he could see Melanie’s engagement ring on her hand, glinting in the hot sun.

He scrambled to his feet, watching as the medics gathered up their supplies. The female medic disconnected the bag and reached down to support Melanie’s head; the others lifted from the sides. They moved her onto the waiting gurney.

Watching them move her, looking so small and vulnerable underneath the machine, Will felt something let go inside of him. He took a breath, trying to steady himself. His eyes struggled to focus. He raked his gaze across the tree line, over Avery, then back, his eyes finally settling on Mel on the gurney.

Loren reached toward him, his blurry face contorting. “Hey, you—”

Will collapsed, the world around him fading to black.

He woke an indeterminate amount of time later in the air conditioned back of the ambulance, to the sound of a piston and a high-pitched whine. Bright, artificial lights stabbed him in the eyes, and he tried to sit up, only to find that he was strapped down.

“Will? Just lay there and rest for me, alright?” an unfamiliar voice said. “We had to strap you to the backboard so you didn’t fall off. I put an IV in your arm and you’re receiving fluids. You got a little too hot and passed out on us.”

Melanie…

“Mel—” he twisted, looking toward the rhythmic noise to his right.

“The Lucas device is pumping her heart for us.” The tall paramedic from before leaned over him. “We’re cooling her down and keeping her blood circulating so the doctors at the hospital can help her.”

Warm and dead, Will thought, shuddering. Did I hear that on television?

The paramedic seemed to be trying to block Will from looking, but he caught sight of her anyway. He could just see her profile, with the tube protruding from between her teeth. Further down, the device pumping her heart. It arched over top of her torso, rocking slightly. The suction cup punched into her sternum over and over again. He could see her breasts wobble and her stomach roll with each forceful, mechanical compression. Her pale legs rocked with the rhythm of the compression device; they’d removed the rest of her clothing and packed more cold packs around her.

“Do people survive… if you have to use that?” he asked, shivering, his voice broken.

The medic leaned over him again and removed the cold packs that Will hadn’t even noticed were tucked under his own arms.

“Sometimes,” the man said, resting his gloved hand on Will’s arm.

The paramedics continued to move about the small space, checking the monitor and administering more medication, even speaking directly to him, but all Will could hear was the whine of Melanie’s still heart and the relentless nn-hit, nn-hit, nn-hit of the machine pumping her chest.

#cpr resus #female resus #resus writing #medical drama

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firespirited · 4 months

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I've been up about every three-ish hours the past few nights as my blood pressure meds have a, you guessed it, three hour half life.

Usually I handle nights OK: you're lying down without moving so BPs stable but the stomach issues are causing cramps that press on major arteries and stop blood flow to my legs. On a normal night I'll just have landmine or bleeding out dreams because that kind of pain bleeds through to the unconscious.

On a bad BP day it feels like a panic attack that doesn't end, the involuntary gasp-yawns that sound like sighing just escalate like drowning on land.

Most medication is made to avoid high blood pressure, especially when lying down - the meds I take, specifically designed for folks with low BP come with severe warnings about risks of bp elevation if taken too close to sleep! Options are very limited and thus the short half life of bp stimulants. They get you to do odd stuff like eat lots of salt instead to prolong the effects.

I've hit delay after delay with candida testing as the local lab got bought up and decreased the tests they will do, pushing folks back to the bigger town specialists and the hospitals.

Working on finding a work around that doesn't involve a long trip as my neck won't handle it without a post-drive migraine.

Probably going to have to see a gut specialist at some point anyway. It would appear that it takes 4 days and a lot of internal irritation with violent cramping for food to go through me. I'd half hoped the walks would fix that but it's not deconditioning but myasthenia of all the internal muscle sphincters such as those pumping blood, keeping my pupils blown etc.

It's funny how you have to explain it to yourself and others: yes the thing affecting the muscles on the outside of the skeleton also affects the ones on the inside that we don't think of as muscles, wild. No, exercise doesn't fix it. The jaw dislocates, the eyes don't focus, hand grip drops and I haven't stopped using them at any point. I mean technically most of them are white muscle tissue sphincters moving stuff up and down tubes. Humans are lots of tubes.

Did you know the word bowel came from the food/meat? So maybe we had been eating sausages long before we found out we had our own internal sausages. I like to think that was both a surprise but also a moment that made total sense : dude, we're just like chickens, duuude we have sausages and woah they're so long.

Lmao i forgot about caffeine (longer half life), caff fuelled sleep here i come.

#saf #Health #Low blood pressure low brain ramblings

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thedeviltohisangel · 2 years

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I Heard From The Heavens//4

And as tears trickled down his own face, he realized how close he had come to losing her that day. That it wasn’t Bradley’s fault. That maybe Pete Mitchell had cheated death one too many times for the universe’s liking. That maybe this was it’s reminder how mortal he was. That no matter how often he sought the solace of a cockpit, the ones he loved most were on the ground and if he forgot that ever again, he’d regret it.

Bradley & Daphne’s Infinite Playlist: Hell Of A View by Eric Church

masterlist is my url/writing or on ao3

based on a request to see mav in panic dad mode. send in more!

tw: car accident/miscarriage

Daphne was half listening to the judge give the jury instructions, half itching to grab her flashcards from her purse to remember what the term meant that he had just used. She sat in the back of the courtroom with the other interns from the U.S. Attorney’s office she was currently at. School had ended last year and he was an old friend of her mother’s who offered her the job while she studied for the Bar. It was proving difficult balancing work and studying and Bradley. But not impossible. They were happier than they ever had been, Bradley graduating soon from TOPGUN and her career on the precipice of everything she ever wanted. After their breakthrough at the Hard Deck, they had found their footing again even amongst the chaos of life.

“You studying with us tonight, Daph? We were gonna order Potbelly and camp out,” said Carmen, one of the interns she had gotten closest to. She opened her mouth to respond but felt nausea rise up her throat instead of words. Quickly ducking into the closest bathroom, she emptied the meager contents of her stomach. She had recently been unable to keep down more than saltines and ginger ale but couldn’t focus on it until her exam passed in a couple weeks. Was probably the stress of studying anyways.

----

“You know, if your eyes keep closing then you aren’t really able to read and study.” Daphne startled herself awake at the kitchen table as Bradley peered through a couple cabinets in a quest for a midnight snack. “Come to sleep with me. It’ll all still be here in the morning.”

“Can’t,” she replied as she rubbed her eyes and went back to the article on her laptop, “I already ditched the study group tonight and I can’t afford to fall behind on my schedule.” She held the spreadsheet out to him as if to prove how dire the situation was.

“I don’t know what half this shit means,” he remarked and handed the paper back. “Your stomach is still acting up?” It gurgled in response to his question.

“I’ll be fine. In two weeks, I’ll have taken this test and can put all this stress behind me.” He watched her for a bit longer, something not sitting right with him but not knowing quite what it was. Maybe he was overthinking things or worrying over her too much. She was the most intelligent and capable person he knew. He should trust that she could take care of herself.

“You’d tell me if it was something, right?” Daphne had her parent’s tolerance for pain. As a little girl she prided herself in never going to the school nurse’s office. Had taped her own broken finger on the sidelines of a field hockey game. Had practiced the art of smiling through period cramps and migraines.

“Bradley,” she whined. She was avoiding his question because they both knew the answer was actually that she wouldn’t.

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you alone. Just need a good night kiss first.”

“Okay but actually just a kiss.” If you give a Bradley a kiss, he normally wants a handful of her ass. And if you give him that, it was a slippery slope to a flat surface and then the night would slip out of her grasp.

“I’m offended by what you’re implying,” he quipped. She smiled as she leaned to meet his lips halfway, not objecting when he slipped his tongue between her lips but smacking his chest when his hand around the back of her neck tightened ever so slightly.

“Stop, you know what your hand around my throat does to me,” she moaned. Daphne went against her own morals and leaned in for another kiss but he pulled away instead.

“I’m following the rules you set,” he said with a click of his tongue. She mumbled something about hating him but turned back to her computer with a pout. “Love you, gorgeous.”

“Night, handsome,” she called as he finally retreated out of the room. A yawn escaped from her mouth but she stifled it quickly. She could last a few more hours…

----

Bradley was startled awake a couple of hours before his alarm by the sounds of Daphne dry heaving in the bathroom. A quick glance to his side showed she had never come to bed the night before and he grimaced at himself for not realizing earlier. She was hunched over the toilet with tears streaming down her face when he opened the door.

“Sweetheart,” he cooed before he dropped to the tile and pulled her hair back, rubbing her back.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” The words sounded pitiful even to her own ears. He had enough to focus on with school and needed his sleep so he could be at his most alert when he flew. The last thing she wanted was to add to the weight on his shoulders.

“No, baby, don’t apologize. Maybe it’s time you let me take you to the doctor’s.” She lent against his chest as she felt like she was done for the time being.

“You can’t miss training,” he opened his mouth to argue with her, “I promise I’ll go myself today.”

“You’re not driving yourself like this.” He pushed some of her sweaty hair from her forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to her skin.

“I’ll drink some Gatorade and I’ll be fine,” her voice fading to a whisper as she relaxed against him and felt like sleep was going to take over.

“We’ll see in a couple hours,” he mumbled against her hair as his thumb traced circles on her skin right above the band of her shorts until she was heavy with sleep. He carried her to bed and traced her cheek softly. “Let me take care of you, Daph.”

----

She watched from bed as he readied himself for the day, admiring the way his butt looked in his flight suit and smiling wistfully when his back muscles flexed while he bopped to the soft sounds of Maren Morris she was playing on her phone.

“You sure you have to fly today and we can’t play doctor?” she asked while innocently twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

“Weren’t you, just last week, calling me a horn-dog?”

“I called you one, I didn’t complain you were one,” she clarified.

“I’ll keep the distinction in mind.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pecked her quickly on the lips. “Promise me you’ll stay in bed today. Light flash card reading, bland food and sips of liquids only.”

“Yes, sir.” She went in for another kiss, Bradley stopping her with a finger to her lips.

“Say you promise, Daphne.”

“Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Daphne Mitchell.” She didn’t want to say the words because then she had to keep to them.

“I promise,” she relented with a huff. Satisfied, he kissed her one last time before slipping on his aviators and grabbing his car keys.

“Might be hard to reach me today but call the number of the captain I gave you if anything changes.”

“I love you, Rooster.” He blushed at the use of his call sign.

“Love you too, Chicky.”

----

She waited exactly fifteen minutes from the time he closed the front door before she was out of bed. Before her unidentified stomach bug had ruined her studying the night before, she had been looking through the references of a particularly fascinating paper and researching local libraries to see if they had any of the books that were mentioned. She justified her betrayal of Bradley by imagining the laugh he would get from her reason. Only she would risk his disappointment or a public stomach issue because of a book. At least, that was what she told herself as she followed the directions on her phone towards her goal.

She told herself it was the glare off the back windshield of the car in front of her that was making her head hurt. That it was the heat and her crappy air conditioning that was making her nauseous. That the black spots at the edge of her vision would go away any minute. Daphne swears she only blinked. That the other car came out of nowhere and crashed into without her ever even noticing. She remembers a searing pain from her shoulder where the seat belt pulled tight and the suffocating force of the air bag. She remembers thinking that her mother was on a business trip a few hours away. That her dad was test flying a couple of states away. She saw Bradley’s face as the glass splintered across her face and the world flipped upside down. Thought of how small he was when his father died. She thought of the promise she had made him that morning and that she should never have thought about breaking it. As the world stilled, the roof of her car against the pavement and her mind begging her to go to sleep, she thought of the wedding dress she’d never wear and the children she’d never hold. She touched the ground outside her window and thought of Bradley up in the sky.

“I’m sorry.” And that was the last thing she remembers.

----

Pete Mitchell recognized the area code instantly. His first thought was that an old TOPGUN colleague or classmate was calling to catch up. But when he answered it, fresh off an exhilarating test run and trying to catch his breath, he thinks the words could have knocked him out cold. Heard the nurse explaining there had been a car accident. That Daphne was breathing but she wasn’t awake. That they couldn’t locate Lieutenant Bradshaw so they had called him. A brief but bright flash of anger flickered across his mind but it passed as he tried to do the math of how long it would take for him to fly by helicopter to where his daughter was.

“Her mother…you need to call her mother, she’s in the area on business and can get there before me so Daphne’s not alone.” The image of his precious daughter alone and injured was enough to buckle his knees. Once he hung up, he tried Bradley but got his voicemail. “Bradley, get yourself to the hospital as soon as you hear this. I’m on my way but…but she’s going to want to see you.”

----

He can’t remember the last time he had been in the same room as his ex-wife. Their divorce had been less than amicable, her insistence that his lifestyle and influence was not conducive to the way she wished to raise their daughter driving a nail in the coffin of any hopes they had for a friendship. Charlie was pacing in the waiting room when he burst through the elevator doors and even though he had known she’d be there, he was still caught off guard by seeing her after so long.

“Pete,” she cried in desperation. He pulled her into his arms without words, knowing that she was feeling the same ache in her chest that he was.

“What have they said?” he murmured.

“Some asshole ran a redlight and hit her side of the car. I stopped listening to all the broken bones after the third one. Head trauma. Internal bleeding. They took her into surgery a half hour ago.” Pete reached for the back of a chair in an attempt to steady himself. “We spoke the other day and she was so excited for the exam. She said her and Bradley had booked a trip to celebrate after his graduation. She sounded so happy. She has so much greatness ahead of her, Pete.” He nodded. It was a cruel, cruel world that those milestones might be taken from his daughter. That he might lose her.

“She’s going to pull through. You think our daughter is going to let anyone take her future away from her? You remember how hard she fought us over an extra cookie or an extra hour of curfew. I wouldn’t want to be the one standing in her way of all she has ahead of her.” They both let out a teary chuckle at the image of their little girl stomping her foot to emphasize her point or her famous eye rolls that were so dramatic they looked like they hurt. “She gets her tenacity from you,” Pete complimented softly.

“That might be true but when she bounces back from this like nothing happened, that’s all Maverick.” The small moment of congeniality between the two was interrupted by the frantic ring of his cell phone.

“Bradley,” he gulped. He steadied himself before answering, not wanting to scare the boy anymore than the missed calls and voicemails already had. Charlie squeezed his hand tenderly.

“What the fuck is gong on, Mav? Is she…Is she…” Bradley roughly rubbed at his eyes. He had taken his time after flying today, wanting his adrenaline rush to subside before heading home to care for Daphne. Once he had finally looked at his phone, missed calls from an unknown number. Missed calls from both of Daphne’s parents. All the voicemails informed him of was that she had been in a car accident and was in the hospital. That is was bad enough for both Charlie and Pete to drop what they were doing and head towards their daughter.

“They have her in surgery right now. We’ll know more once she gets out.”

“You know she promised me she was going to sit tight and rest today. I shouldn’t have left her this morning. I should’ve been there.” Bradley couldn’t help but think, wish, it was him battered and bruised instead of her.

“It’s not your fault, Bradley. No one is at fault except for the driver that hit her. None of us could have done anything different. You focus on getting here safely.”

“I’ll be there soon. Thank you, Mav, for being there with her.”

“I always will be.”

----

It felt like a lifetime before Bradley reached the hospital, haphazardly parking his car and sprinting up the stairs to her room when the elevator took too long. Pete was staring at a newspaper from the day before, not really capable of reading it and Charlie was curled up in a chair in an attempt to get some rest.

“Where is she?” he asked breathlessly. He began to walk down the hall, peering through the windows into the rooms when he felt Pete wrap an arm around his shoulders.

“Still in surgery. Why don’t you take a seat?”

“Shouldn’t she be out by now? Something’s wrong,” he shrugged away his arm and began his own path of pacing. “She fucking promised me!” His fist connected with the wall before any of them knew what was happening.

“Bradley-” Pete began.

“I have a ring for her. I keep waiting for the right time and now I might never get the chance to marry her. I ‘ve been setting aside money for this house in Virginia Beach I see her looking at pictures of all the time because she deserves so much more than the one on base we’ve been living in.” He tried to keep the tears at bay but was losing. “We talk about kids and her dream of a non profit law clinic and some motherfucker at a red light...” He didn’t push Charlie away as she pulled him in for a hug.

“She wants all those things and more with you, Bradley. She’s going to fight like hell,” she spoke through her own tears.

“Are you all here with Ms. Daphne Mitchell?” They all stood as the doctor reached the waiting room. “The accident did a number on her, and we were touch and go for a few minutes on the table, but she’s going to be okay. She has a long recovery ahead of her but she will recover.”

“Oh thank God,” her mother sighed and Bradley hugged her tightly, Pete clapping him on the back with the biggest smile.

“Mr. Bradshaw, there is one thing you should know.” Three confused looks were directed her way.

“Me?”

“We were unable to save the fetus. The impact of the wreck and how early Ms. Mitchell was in her pregnancy-” she paused as Bradley collapsed into the nearest chair. Pete wasn’t far behind him.

“I’m going to be sick,” he muttered in a daze. He should have known. The signs and symptoms had all been there. He should have pressed harder about her going to the doctor.

“Maybe she didn’t know herself,” Charlie reasoned. Daphne would have told her mother about being pregnant, had she known. She knows she would have told Bradley.

“A baby,” Bradley whispered. They had talked about being parents, late at night in bed when they were dreaming of their future together. To have the chance ripped from him…

“Can we see her?” Charlie had noticed her ex-husband’s breaths coming quicker. His eyes burning a hole in the side of the young pilot’s head. She needed him to focus on Daphne.

“Of course. Follow me.” They moved to follow but Pete stopped Bradley and pulled him out of ear shot.

“You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on her.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Bradley asked with complete incredulity.

“She was pregnant and you had no idea?”

“How am I supposed to know without her telling me?” Pete went to respond but was stopped when Charlie came running back down the hall.

“She’s asking for you two.”

“I have to tell her, don’t I?” Bradley asked.

“I think it’s best coming from you,” she replied. He squared his shoulders and walked down the hall to break her heart. “She’s not a teenager, Pete. They are both adults.”

“He promised me he’d protect her.”

“You don’t think the boy is going through enough pain right now without you adding to it?” Pete remembers losing one of Daphne’s teddy bears when she was younger. How he dreaded telling her and being responsible for her sadness. He thought of the conversation between her and Bradley that was happening down the hall and how it could never even compare. Pete walked towards the door slowly and glanced inside. He watched as understanding set over his daughter’s face. As her hands fell to her stomach. As the two of them cried in anguish for a life they hadn’t known they created but missed all the same. As she started the healing process in the arms of the man she loved, who loved her back with a fire he used to feel as well. And as tears trickled down his own face, he realized how close he had come to losing her that day. That it wasn’t Bradley’s fault. That maybe Pete Mitchell had cheated death one too many times for the universe’s liking. That maybe this was it’s reminder how mortal he was. That no matter how often he sought the solace of a cockpit, the ones he loved most were on the ground and if he forgot that ever again, he’d regret it.

#miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun maverick

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