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byuljoonie · 7 months

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moonlight // knj

I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…

word count: 5k+ (sorry)

warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism

summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)

note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)

My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.

I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.

Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.

I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.

I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.

“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.

“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.

“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.

“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.

“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.

I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.

“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.

As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.

Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.

I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.

His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.

I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.

I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.

Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.

Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)

Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…

Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.

I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.

Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*

Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe

Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.

Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.

I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.

“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.

I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.

I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.

“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.

“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.

I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.

“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.

“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.

We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.

Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.

Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.

Me: I think I fucked up lol

Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)

Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.

“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.

I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.

I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.

Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.

I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.

We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.

“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.

“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.

“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.

My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.

I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.

“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.

Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.

“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.

“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.

He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.

“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.

“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.

I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.

I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.

Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.

“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.

“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.

I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.

He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.

“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.

Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.

“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”

I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”

That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.

Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.

Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.

“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.

“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.

Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.

“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”

He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.

His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.

The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.

I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.

The end.

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me-and-your-husband · 1 year

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mine truly and forever || j. miller

summary: joel comes back to you in whatever way he can. part two of “yours truly and forever”.

warnings: smut, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, unprotected sex, language, dirty talk

word count: 4k

A/N: this took me awhile to get out, sorry everybody! also, i really didn’t plan on writing a part 2 to this, but the demand was really high. not my best work, so i just fed you all with smut instead lmao

here’s my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my work!

You had long since given up hope that Joel was coming back for you.

Every morning, you woke and swallowed down the tightening in your throat, the knot in your stomach. You believed he had moved on. Maybe he found his brother and settled down with Ellie.

Anything was better than what was most likely. Anything was better than him being dead.

You rose with the sun and fell with it too, wondering every day if you’d ever see him again. If you’d ever get to laugh with him, or cry with him, or touch him. Some part of you thought that, maybe, your night spent together was just his desperation for some human touch. All you were to him was a way to satiate his desire. Maybe.

You tried not to think about it, but the thought of him him him seeped into everything you did. Feeding the cows? You thought about Joel. Harvesting? You thought about Joel. Cooking? You thought about Joel. Laying awake at night, eyes flitting across the darkness, searching for something? You thought about Joel.

So, yeah, you’d given up on the idea of him awhile ago.

It had been two years since that night. The night you gave yourself wholly to him. The night you let him into the most intimate parts of your body and soul. Since you let him crawl through you, seeing into your depths.

The first few months after him were honeyed in hope. When your alarm went off, signaling something was trying to breach your perimeter, you rushed to the camera and prayed it was Joel. It was always just some stray infected or moose or something that wasn’t him. As the snow melted, your heart was loyal. You breathed in the belief of his words every morning. The slush on the ground a reminder that he’d be safer in the warm weather, that he’d come back to you sooner. The summer was warm. Your garden thrived, preparing for his return. You ate strawberries on your porch and basked in the golden sun, soaking in the heat. Your skin dripped in sweat, heart dripping in steadfast hope.

In the winter, you faltered. You still hoped for his return, you still believed in his promise, but you started thinking about other possibilities. Though, you rarely entertained them. Another spring passed. And another summer. Another fall, winter, and spring. It was summer now, but the heat was more suffocating, the sunshine more of a nuisance.

Over the last winter, you grit your teeth and weathered your bones. You felt betrayal, deep in your gut. Had he lied? Just to keep you solitary? To keep you from chasing after him? To keep you away?

You didn’t know. You didn’t care. Did you?

You didn’t know.

You had given him everything, but he couldn’t keep a promise.

You forced yourself to separate the idea of him from who he really was. He was a man before he was yours. He craved the life that would offer him something to do. He craved you, but didn’t he crave others? Did he crave you, or did he crave someone to take care of him?

Who was Joel Miller? Who was he, and who was he to you?

Was he even the type to come back to you? No. Probably not. Not when he’s lived through this for 22 years. Not when he’s seen his friends die. Not when he’s killed. He wasn’t the type to lay down and become a farmhand.

Besides, you saw the way he looked at Ellie. Part of you was sure that he’d never leave that girl. She meant more to him than he’d ever say. He was never just yours. He never would be.

So you shoved the thought of him to the corners of your mind, rejecting it endlessly. You’d never let yourself think too hard about him, only ever letting his image flit about your mind like a lost butterfly. You shut him out and never sought him out again.

Another morning fell into your lap. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sound of alarms ringing out through the property jolted you awake. You rolled your head to the side to stretch a sore muscle, hand reaching under your bed for your rifle. No reason for alarm. Whatever it was, a stray infected or an animal, no doubt, would fall into one of your traps, or you’d pick it off without wasting a single bullet. All in a day’s work.

You slid on the first pair of shoes you could find, slipping out the door and making your way towards where the camera had signalled the breach. You groaned as you realized just how early it was, the sun barely illuminating the ground you stepped on.

You held your rifle out as your eyes scanned the fence line. Nothing. It must have been one of the traps that set off the alarm. Sighing, you push the buttons on the padlock and it opens the gate.

Moving to the nearest trap, you peek the muzzle of the rifle into the hole. It was still dark, but you made out a figure standing at the bottom of the pit.

“Move and I’ll fucking shoot you,” you yelled. No response, just the sound of heavy breathing. “You infected?”

Your name was whispered into the air like a breath of something you never thought you’d hear again. That beautiful, rugged, rich voice. The voice that you loved, so dearly. The voice that you hated.

“Joel?”

“It’s me, honey,” he was breathless. It was almost as if it was his first moment of rest in twenty years.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath faltering for a moment. You didn’t let the tears threatening to pool in your eyes spill. Instead, you threw your rifle to the side and got on your knees, reaching into the dark pit. “Take my hand.”

Extending your hand, you almost immediately felt his large, rough one envelop yours. You used most of your strength to pull him up, him hoisting himself up once he got a good grip. He falls on top of you with the momentum, catching himself before his figure crushes yours. You could feel his heavy breath on your face, painting invisible lines of what you both want. A sea in his eyes, pooling with everything that’s happened since he left you, with everything he wanted to say, everything he wants to say. You lean into him a little, breath hitching and brows furrowing when he finally attaches his lips to yours.

It was like an oxygen mask, breathing you to life. It was more desperate than any kiss you had shared. He was here, in your hands. He was alive. He was heart and flesh and blood and he was with you again.

Your arms pulled him in close until he groaned into your mouth. You pulled away to study his face. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead, absorbing every feature of your face that he had missed for so long.

You began to lift his shirt to see why he had groaned, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“Joel,” you warned. “Lift up your shirt.”

“Take me to dinner first, hey?” He chuckled. He was stalling. He didn’t want you to see whatever was under his shirt.

You gave him a warning look before he gave in. Sitting up, you gently lifted his shirt. There wasn’t a concerning amount of blood for once, just small lacerations here and there that might need a few stitches. However, the skin underneath the marks was full of vibrant purples and blues and yellows, painted across the flesh of his abdomen like some sick piece of art. A small gasp left your lips at the sight, but Joel tilted your chin up to look at him, pulling his shirt down with his other hand.

“Just fell, darlin’. I’d do it all again to get to you.”

Heat spread across your face, tinting your cheeks. All the resentment you had for him fizzled away (but was it really resentment if you could forgive him with just one kiss? Or maybe that was just the power Joel had over you).

“Let me patch you up, cowboy,” you said as you stood up, grabbing your rifle and pulling him up with you. “Come on.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Leading him through the house by his hand, the silence settled nicely. Something unspoken lingered between you two, remnants of what happened still drifting. Ideas of what might happen were tempting.

You led him to the bathroom, instructing him to sit on the counter. You opened the cabinet and grabbed everything you’d need.

“It’s like every time we meet, you’re on the verge of death, Miller,” you said as you laid your supplies out.

He grunted. “Not on the verge of death right now, honey. Just a little banged up, is all.” You told him to take off his shirt. He did so without a word of protest. “I’m just lucky I’ve always got my favourite girl to patch me up.” His hands reached for you, wanting you to be close to him. He grabbed your hips and positioned you in front of him, between his legs. You didn’t look away from the cuts and bruises on his chest and stomach.

“Not always, apparently,” you muttered under your breath as you began to dab his chest with a damp rag, washing away the brutality of what he went through to get to you. His brows furrowed, his hand moving to your wrist.

“Don’t be like that, honey.”

“Fuck you,” you whispered, pulling your wrist from his grasp and going back to your task. You were both silent as you cleaned his chest, both avoiding eye contact.

You grabbed the dated peroxide. “Might hurt.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. He made no noise when you applied it to the areas of concern, but the cords in his neck tightened nonetheless.

“Sorry,” you whispered, the desire to sooth him and shut him up with your mouth still clawing at you. He grunts in acknowledgement. You continued to clean him up, till all his wounds were stitched and his skin was clean of blood.

“Done,” you finally spoke, throwing out the dirty rags and cleaning up. You went to move past him to get out of the bathroom, but he slid off the counter and blocked your exit. Your face was only a few inches from his chest. “Joel,” you warned, “let me out.”

“Not 'till you tell me why you’re so mad at me, darlin’,” he said, his voice gruff yet soft. His hands slid up and down your arms, which were on your hips.

You tried to push past him again, but he didn't budge.

You huffed, and his eyes softened, large hands moving to cup your face. “You don't know how much I missed you,” he said, brows furrowed.

You closed your eyes. “I do know.” You felt him press his forehead to yours, and you reciprocated, hands moving to hold his wrists. You didn't have the energy to be mad at him anymore. You just wanted him.

“Then let me show you,” he whispered, breath fanning over your lips, driving you wild. Everything about him was intoxicating.

His lips found yours again, still needy and fervent, but there was something more. Something hungry. Something growing, something left over.

He pushed you against the bathroom counter, hands moving across your body, touching you everywhere, anywhere he could. His hands ghosted over your breasts, across your thighs, rubbing your hips, caging you in. You whined, “Touch me.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere. I just need more,” you said, breathless.

At that, he placed you on top of the counter before he lifted your shirt from your body, “Nothin’ underneath? Knew I was comin’,” he said with a smirk. You were breathless as he kissed you again, sliding your pants off your body. He broke from your mouth to lay wet kisses on your neck and chest, biting and sucking his mark into your flesh.

You whimpered when he gently ran a finger over your clothed core, bucking into his hand, desperate for anything more. He groaned when he felt how wet you were, your slick already pooling in your panties. He didn't have it in him to tease you. Not today.

He slid your panties down your legs. You felt the heat of your core come in contact with the air, your slick beginning to drip down your thighs. He dropped to his knees, looking up at you with nothing but pure desire, want, need, and, dare you say, love?

He kisses the soft inside of both thighs, your hands tangling in his hair, before his face hovers over your soaked core. He pressed his head into the inside of your thigh, running a finger through your folds. You moaned at the seating contact, watching as he brought his finger to his lips and captured your slick on his tongue. He moaned, “Missed this pussy.”

He played with your clit experimentally, just to see how wet you could get without his saliva, before the tempting sight of your pussy collapsed him. He dove in like a man starved, licking and sucking, spreading your folds apart to get further inside. Your hands still fisted in his hair as you moaned. He draped one hand across your abdomen to keep you still, hips bucking up into his mouth.

His mouth was a magic ailment, drawing that familiar sensation from you in a matter of no time. The coil in your belly grew, hot and heavy, until his work on your cunt sent you over the edge, gripping his hair and moaning his name.

“That's it, pretty girl. Give it to me,” he said as he worked you through your high. When he noticed you squirming, whispering “s’too much”, he moved from your core and up to your mouth. Your hands spread across his chest, still bare, as you tasted yourself on his tongue. Your juices were smeared across his face, glistening in the hair there.

“Take me to bed, cowboy,” you said against his lips.

“Yes Ma’am,” he breathed. He picked you up, wrapping your legs around his body, and carried you to your bedroom. You pressed kisses across his neck and chest as he moved.

When he laid you down on the bed, he caged you underneath him. You reached to his belt, unbuckling it and throwing it to the side. He removed his pants, and you began palming him over his boxers. He was rock hard, eating you out almost getting him there in itself.

“Please,” you said, nearly inaudible. “Will you let me taste you?” You stroked his bulge.

“Fuck, honey. How could I say no to that?”

You rolled so you were on top of him, freeing his thick cock from its constraint. He sat up on the edge of the bed, you sinking between his legs.

You stroked his cock, smearing the precum around the tip. He was sensitive. You could tell he hadn't had anyone since you, and he definitely didn't have the time to take care of himself. He groaned as you began giving kitten licks to his tip, hand fisting in your locks, not guiding you, just needing a place to find solace.

“Gonna be the end of me,” he groaned when you put him fully in your mouth. He threw his head back, tears pricking your eyes when you tried to take him all. He was desperate for his release, but he was desperate to release inside of you even more.

“Baby, m’ not gonna last. Wanna finish inside of you,” he groaned. You lifted your head from his cock, wiping the saliva from the corners of your mouth, eyes wet.

“So pretty. C’mere,” he said, gesturing to his lap.

You climbed atop him. “Wanna ride you,” you said, sucking into his neck.

“Fuck, okay. Okay, you can ride me honey,” he said. You were absolutely ruining him.

You kissed him silly, straddling his lap. He was so enamoured with you, everything you did. The way you tasted, smelled, sounded. He was pussy drunk.

You parted from him to run his tip through your entrance, still soaked with your cum and his saliva, collecting your wetness. Lining him up with your entrance, you moaned into each other’s mouths when you sunk down onto him. Allowing yourself a moment to feel him sheathed fully inside you, stretching you out, filling you up, letting your body remember the way you blended together, you kissed him with a renewed passion, something you thought had died.

You held onto his shoulders as support, his large hands gripping your hips, gritting his teeth. When you lifted yourself off of him and back down, you set a desperate pace, grinding yourself down on his cock.

“Not gonna last long, pretty thing,” Joel groaned, eyes fixed on where you were connected. You were too set on your release to care, you just knew you wanted him inside you forever.

“Don’t care,” you gritted out, panting and out of breath. The noises filling the air were downright unholy, but neither of you had it in yourself to care. “Want you to fill me up.”

Joel growled, “Fuck, honey. Fill you up so good, you’ll be dripping out of me. That what you want?” He asked, landing a smack to your ass as you bounced on his cock. You moaned. Your release was right around the corner, your cunt clenching hard on his cock, thighs beginning to tremble. Joel moved a hand to circle your clit, hell-bent on getting you there. “So pretty,” Joel said, almost whimpering. “So good for me. Squeezin’ me so good.”

His words went straight to the fire growing in your core, your slick pooling at the base of his cock. Finally, the coil snapped, your orgasm dancing down your legs and up your body. Your thighs and frame trembled as you tried, you really tried, to keep bouncing on his cock, but your thighs were too weak at this point to keep going. Fixed on release, Joel flipped you so you were caged underneath him, barely missing a beat before spearing his cock into you. He swallowed your overstimulated whimpers.

“Gonna make a mess out of you. Fuck, almost there,” he groaned.

“Inside, inside, please,” you choked out, still delirious from your previous orgasm. However, you felt another one building inside of you, the friction of his body as it rubbed against yours added to your previous stimulation was enough to get you there again. You lazily toyed with your swollen clit, not having enough energy to focus, yet you knew it wouldn’t take much.

Joel barely noticed your state as his hips faltered in their pace, hitting that sweet spot so good. You had barely any control left over your body, but as he groaned and the muscles in his front tightened, the feeling of his hot seed filling you up was enough to send you into a frenzy. He groaned into your neck, your loud, wanton moans filling the air. As he filled you to the brim, you shook underneath him, your third orgasm overtaking you.

When he had recovered, Joel looked down to where you both met, taking note of the creamy ring formed around the base of his cock. He grinned, still breathless, as he gently unsheathed himself from your core, watching you squirm and wrinkle your nose at the overstimulation. He laid down next to you, and you naturally curled into him.

It was still morning, the rest of the day still ahead of you, but as Joel pulled the blanket over the two of you and watched your chest heave, he had the feeling that time didn’t matter anymore.

Your eyes fluttered open and met his. You noted how sore your body was, but the pull at your heart was no match. He had been watching you sleep, watching as you cuddled into his warmth and trusted him enough to hold you as you slept. The bright daylight filled the room, lighting up all his features, shining on the pretty grey in his hair and beard.

“How’d you sleep, honey?” he asked, his voice gravelly. You could feel his heart beating as you laid against his chest.

You hummed, “Better than I have in a long time.”

He smiled. There was a soft silence for a while as you just looked at each other, his hand stroking the skin of your face, kissing your cheeks and forehead, down the bridge of your nose, and ending at your lips. Finally, he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

Your easy grin faltered for a moment. “It’s okay. I just…” you breathed in, “I thought you were dead.”

He pulled you into his chest. “I’m okay. ‘M right here, darlin’.”

You leaned into his touch, basking in the knowledge that you weren’t going to lose him again.

“Come back to Jackson with me.”

“Jackson? In Wyoming?”

He nodded.

“Joel, that’s far…”

“I’ve made the trip twice now.”

You were silent for a few moments, thinking. He spoke again. “I know this is your home, and it’s been your home for years. And I-”

“Joel,” you cut him off. “Anywhere you go is my home. I’ll come to Jackson with you.”

Joel Miller’s smile was something rarer than diamonds or gold, but it appeared on his face as real as ever.

Joel kissed you like the world had never ended, like you were his world. That’s because you were.

A week of bliss later, you had packed everything you’d possibly think you’d need on one horse and two backpacks. You’d set all your cattle free to roam and disarmed your alarm system. You had made Joel map out your route to Jackson, ever the planner, going through every minute detail. Nights were spent wrapped around each other, and mornings were spent wrapped around the blankets. You spoke of the life you would have together in Jackson, spoke about Ellie, spoke about everything.

Often, you’d look up at Joel and be met with a punch to the gut. The idea that the man you spent two years of your life praying for, standing right in front of you? It hit you out of nowhere sometimes. It was hard to be thankful in a world like this, in a world that did nothing but take and take and take from you. It was hard to believe that he was really here, that the world gave you something good for once. Sometimes, you’d have to touch him, really touch him, just to make sure he was really here. Just to make sure you hadn’t finally gone crazy and started to imagine him.

You began to fear that the world was going to whisk him away from you. Maybe a clicker would get him, or maybe a stalker. Maybe you’d react too slow, too quick, too late, too poorly, and he’d try to save you. Maybe he’d get another infection. God knows that man does not take care of himself.

These fears plagued your mind day and night, awake and asleep. They brushed your thoughts when he touched you, fingers working you into a puddle, you melting into him. These thoughts were unspoken, never would they be said aloud, or they just might seize you in your sleep and become real.

When you got to Jackson, the fear of losing him never ceased, but you did come to realize something.

You realized that what you were feeling, this utter, disgusting dread and fear of losing the one you love the most, was completely natural.

You loved Joel with all of yourself, and you knew that if anything happened to him, you’d lose all of yourself too.

After so long, your hearts were molded to one another, holding on for dear life. And you’d spend that life together. Truly and forever.

series taglist: @winters-fairy @charlyrmv @gvfslayallday @cloudroomblog @lol-im-done @freyafriggafrey @jasminedragoon @daddy-din @dealswiththedevilsblog @coolchick333 @rizzetteee @m3laniehearts @fuglyputa24 @daixylie @mi0o @kissykris @c0wb0ym3nace @snixx2088 @randomstory56 @mmeerraa @doublevirgogirl @daydreamerblues @onlyrealjoy @happinessinthebeing @leathargic @violenttsoho @gingerdarkroast @intoxicatedapple @callsign-athena @cherriebat @sofiparallel @textsfromeponinet

tlou taglist: @jordie-gvf @sunxflowerxx @themusingkitten @anxiety-made @mmerraa

permanent taglist: @winters-fairy @idkwhattonamethisblogs

#joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader fluff #joel miller x reader angst #the last of us #tlou #hbo's tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x reader smut

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

#answered #yandere könig #könig x virgin reader #lol #torture torture torture #poor boi #lack of movement is not good for him #he can't even kill people #should we at least give him a handjob? 🥺

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cheesemonky · 2 months

Text

Chapter 3: And The Journey Begins

pairing: fairy!felix x fairy!reader

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1.5k

summary: A fairy gets their wings once they're 13. A normal one at least. You're 23, and still without any. This leaves you without a mate, because who would love a wingless fairy? So when you decide to leave, it's quite the surprise to find a fairy with a wing missing…

warnings: reader has a swearing problem lmao, FUNKY LITTLE CAMEO FROM ANOTHER AUSSIE :3, felix is a cutie NOT PROOFREAD

“You heard me. I’m coming with you.”

“Didn’t you say the exact opposite last night?”

“... I mean yeah, but I can change my mind if I want to.” He couldn’t tell if you were kidding. Even you couldn’t believe what you were agreeing to. You had thought

“In that case… sure! You can come.” It surprised you a little with how easily accepting he was of your change of mind.

"But just a warning. This journey won't be easy. I’ve lived in the Bush for long enough to know. Are you sure you're ready for it?" He nodded his head confidently, smiling at you before speaking up. It scared you that he knew more about where the two of you were going, yet had no idea how to handle himself in the Bush.

"I would walk my way through the gates of hell to get my wing back. I'm not about to let anything stop me now." Your heart melted slightly by his brave and determined outlook. It was quite obvious that he probably couldn’t handle anything of that degree, but the enthusiasm was not unwelcome. Not to mention his beautiful smile. And those eyes! That bright and lively spark in them...

"Alright then. Let's get going."

“Let’s just hope that we don't get lost on the way.” You teased with a dry chuckle, but he laughed along with you. You couldn't help but think that he was just so adorable when he laughed.

“I really appreciate you coming with me. Just so you know.” His eyes were fixed on your face, and you almost felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. Almost.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever… I’m only doing it for myself anyway.”

"That's a funny way of saying that I'm so gorgeous, that you couldn't help but come with me." You couldn't help it. His teasing made you want to tease right back. It also made part of you want to tear him apart, but that doesn’t have any value to your conversation, so you keep that hidden.

"Just don't come crying to me when you miss your mom or get a splinter." You said, trying to hold back your grin. Now that you were both on the same page, getting along proved to be much easier. His warm presence made it so easy to talk to him.

"Let's get going, yeah? Which direction are we going in?"

"Well actually, in the story, it says that you have to collect the clues to get the key, which unlocks the door to The Heart of Eris." Right, because that's what happens in stories.

"So where's the first location?"

"Uhh, which way is Glebe?"

"East."

"So that means we go West."

"And where does that lead us?"

"A nice little fairy neighbourhood. Much smaller than our villages."

"Sure. I'll lead us West then." And finally the journey began. As you ventured into the unknown, the atmosphere between you and your unexpected companion remained surprisingly light-hearted. The landscape around you transformed as you headed west, entering the deeper areas of the outback. The scenery gradually shifted, and you found yourselves walking through dried paths. The air was filled with the sounds of nature, and the warmth of the sun peeked through the leaves overhead. As you continued your journey westward, the landscape became more rugged, the vegetation sparse and tough, adapted to the harsh conditions. The sun beat down relentlessly, casting long shadows across the dusty trail.

"So, any idea what we're looking for in this fairy neighbourhood?" you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you as you walked. He scratched his head thoughtfully.

"Well, according to the story, the first clue should be hidden somewhere ‘among those people who wander the night, and they live off no sunlight’, whatever that means.”

“...huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either… welp, we’ll just figure it out when we get there.” You weren’t sure what scared you more. The fact that he didn’t even know what you were meant to be looking for, or that he doesn’t seem to mind. You probably should have considered this a bit further. But it's too late now. Plus, you don't exactly want to go back and leave his cute face to die.

As you continued to walk, the landscape began to change yet again. The terrain became less harsh, and signs of life started to appear. Small patches of vibrant greenery dotted the landscape, and the air felt cooler as you approached what seemed like a small fairy neighbourhood, just like he said. You finally arrived at the outskirts of the quaint town and it was indeed much smaller than your villages, with little cottages nestled among the trees. The air was filled with the delicate fragrance of flowers, and the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air.

"Wow, this place is amazing!" Felix looked around in awe of the place. Such a small place, yet the beauty the landscape held was immense.

"Yeah, it is... we should find somewhere to stay, like an inn." You suggested, and he turned back to face you, a determined smile painting his face. But as you searched, there was one thing you guys didn't account for.

"So you're telling me... that you're a fairy... without wings?" The receptionist questioned, unbelieving of your story. "And this fella here had one of his taken?"

"Look ma'am, I know it sounds unbelievable, but I swear to you, it's true."

"Uh, yeah right. I'll let you stay once you stop lying. Unless you aren't a fairy at all. Then I can't let you in." The frustration became evident on your face and you clenched your fist to stop yourself from punching something or someone. Before you could reply, Felix stepped in to talk for you.

"I'm sorry, but we're doing something *really* important, and we need somewhere to stay a few nights."

"I know, and I'm saying, I can't let you stay. She for sure is not a fairy, and you're missing your wing. You could be dangerous creatures for all I know." God, this lady was insufferable. A sudden boost of confidence led you to step in front of Felix and lean over the counter to talk some sense into this woman. At least, that's what you were meant to do.

"Listen here, you little shit, my friend and I have been through a lot, probably more than a measly receptionist, and you fucking around doesn't help. Honestly, people like you are such cunts, like let us the fuck in you son of a bi-"

And before you knew it, both your asses were on the floor outside the inn.

"Stay out, pests." The gruff voice came from behind you and the door slammed in your face.

"Nice going, Y/N."

"Whatever, this place was shit anyways..." You mumbled under your breath. You were the one messing up now, and you weren't sure you liked it. Usually, you didn't pay mind to others' disappointment, but Felix was different. He sighed deeply, getting up and dusting himself off.

"It's okay, we'll try somewhere else." Unfortunately, you soon realised that everywhere you tried would give the same reaction. For hours the two of you went around everywhere, to every inn, pub, even a farmstead! But your efforts were to no avail. The two of you walked the streets in silence, both in deep thought as to what to do next.

"I mean, you still have your stuff, we can set up a little sleeping place outside the town."

"There is literally one blanket and I'm not sharing it with you. And we're not alternating either, there's no danger here."

"... they could try and kill us in our sleep, but whatever I guess..."

"We wouldn't kill you!" Felix let out a small noise at the sudden voice, and you snapped your head to look at the source. It was a young man, seemingly around both your age, his black hair framing his face perfectly. His smile was cheshire, and his eyes held a sense of mischievousness.

"Uh, thanks..? Who are you though..?"

"I'm Jake! I've been away for a while, but the people here are nice enough not to kill you!"

“That’s… great?” He smiled wider this time, holding his hand out for either of you to take. Felix, being the friendly man he is, takes it without hesitation, shaking it vigorously.

“Can you please help us? We need somewhere to stay.”

“I mean… I could let you stay at our holiday house, but I’m not sure if my friends would be okay with that-”

“Please?”

“... Okay fine. But if they don’t like you, that’s not my fault~!”

“Yes, let’s go!” Your surprise knew no bounds. How and why was Felix so quick to trust?

“Felix, wait-” You grabbed his arm, and pulled yourself up to reach his ear. “This might be dangerous.” You whispered, keeping a close eye on Jake.

“Do you have any other ideas? Because I don’t” You held your breath, trying to find a reason to make him stay. Oh, how stupid you must’ve looked. Rejecting a kind (but strange) offer of help when that’s what you’ve been looking for.

“We don’t bite, I promise you~” One last time, you took a good look at Jake. He didn’t seem to impose any threat and his offer seemed genuine.

“Fine. But I swear to god, if you pull some weird ass shit-”

“Chill, chill, hahahaha~ you’re in good hands.”

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jasntodds · 7 months

Text

Petrichor [9]

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

Words: 13,975

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of canon violence, canon drug use, mentions of death, canon grave digging??

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: The way I rewrote the beginning of this like 4 times skjdhfsjk Again, I'm really sorry I left you guys on a cliffhanger lmao I really thought I'd have it done and then did not 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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“Please, don’t be mad.”

His voice. You would know that voice anywhere and you freeze. Your heart feels like it’s just plummented to streets below you because it can’t be him. It’s your mind playing tricks on you. It has to be because he’s dead. You know for a fact he’s dead. This is some cruel joke he’s playing, somehow.

Maybe you really did piss him off. If he has your phone number and knew you’d meet him here, in uniform, maybe he knows more. Maybe he knows Jason was Robin and you were together. Your social media feeds were consumed with each other. It was obvious. Maybe that’s what this is. Some mind game as payback for going after someone he wanted to kill himself or someone he wanted to recruit for his new crime family. It has to be. Because Jason Todd is dead.

You look over at him slowly, seeing the green eyes that haunt you in your dreams now. There’s the mark near his left eye he’s had since you met. You memorized where the few freckles are and they match on Red Hood. He’s the same height as Jason. His brows are knitted together in the same way Jason always did when he was thinking and pleading with you for something. The only difference is his hair. Jason doesn’t have a white streak. So, it can’t be him. He’s dead.

You move away from him quickly, putting your hand out in front of you as it glows neon green. You gain a scowl as you clench your jaw. Not him.

“Tell me who the fuck you are before I melt your sorry ass!” You yell at him. You don’t care what he’s capable of. If Red Hood wants to play this game, you’ll play right back and you’ll go down swinging. It’s not a joke and it’s just cruel.

Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully. He knew you wouldn’t believe him. You're smart. You're going to make sure he’s real. But it hurts anyway.

“It’s me.” Jason states holding the helmet on his hip. “I swear, alright? It’s me.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes grow warm and the tip of your nose warm. Your eyes start to water and it’s actually embarrassing. You can’t actually stand here ready to kill him while crying. Whatever his endgame is, he has to be winning because your hand starts to shake and you swear it’s not him.

“No…because I-I…no.” Your words are rugged and breathy. “I found him.” You mutter through gritted teeth. “He’s dead.” You suck in a breath, keeping your stare on him. “You’re. Not. Him.”

You know it can’t be him because that’s not possible. It’s not possible that someone can die and come back to life. Bruce had an autopsy performed even. Even if there was a way, there was an autopsy. How can someone come back from that? You read the report, you saw the pictures. That is real. Can he survive being bludgeoned with a crowbar and then being embalmed? That doesn’t make any fucking sense. And if he were really Jason, why wouldn’t he come to you as soon as he comes back to life? Why would he become Red Hood first? Why would he go to Molly first? You saw him, cold and pale and lifeless with autopsy scars on a slab. This isn’t Jason.

Jason’s heart drops because you never should have been the one to find him. He knew you would. Jason remembers every thought he had before everything went black and he remembers knowing you’d come because you’d always come to find him. But, he was really, really hoping he was wrong and it was anyone else. It just had to be you. Jason doesn’t know what the damage was but he has a pretty good guess it was pretty ugly and mortifying. It wasn’t enough that he literally died, but it had to be you to fucking find him.

And his heart breaks with the look you're giving him because you've always trusted him. But right now, just by the scowl and vibrancy of the green of your hand, he knows you don’t. You have to believe him. You have to.

“I gave you a necklace.” Jason states, looking to your neck that’s covered with the suit. “Infinity symbol, because it’s you and me. There’s a tracking device in it because you have a habit of getting kidnapped.” Jason nods at you once as he manages his signature smirk. “You’re probably still wearing it because you never took it off since the night of the gala.” Jason gestures a hand towards you lazily and you swear the necklace starts burning your neck. “You picked out the hood for your suit. And you were always afraid of heights but grappling around the city has apparently helped you get over it. I have a favorite gargoyle. You and Bruce are the only two who know that.” Jason tries to think of other things only him and you would know. He remembers everything but it has to be specific because just anything is never going to fly with you.

You pause and you think Jason has to be the only one who would know all of that. Anyone would know about the necklace but not the reason or the tracking device. You never even told Molly why he gave it to you. You always said it was just something nice he did. No one would know you picked out your hood besides Bruce and Gar. And the gargoyle thing is so damn odd that no one would even think of that. But he did. But it can’t be him. How can it be him?

“My favorite meal is pot roast which I taught you to make the same day you taught me scrapbooking stuff. My page was about Robin, of course, it was, right?” Jason shakes his head as he scoffs. The name of Robin is almost sour on his lips now. “Pride and Prejudice is my favorite book and I really like West Side Story, it was our second date that you planned.” Jason takes a step forward with a sigh and you keep your footing as your hand lowers just a little. “Krypto is your best friend even though he’s a dog. You like Excellent Gothsm which I think you like going to because you suck at making friends but you think Tim is cool.” Jason grins at you as you glare at him in the way you always did when he was saying something just to get under your skin. “Hey, you said that yourself.” Jason chuckles softly, looking to the ground and your face softens just slightly. He always did that. “I dumped a bucket of ice water on you once, back in San Francisco.” Jason lets out this laugh and he can’t see it, but it gets you to smile under your mask. That’s definitely his laugh because it’s booming and it echoes over the roof.

“Asshole.” You mutter as Jason watches the glowing start to fade.

“You ate the rest of my food! On purpose!” He laughs and there’s this light in his eyes as he gives you this teasing grin. The one he always gave you right before you caved.

“I thought it would be funny.” You lower your hand. “And it was.” The venom in your voice is gone.

“Yeah, sure it was.” Jason sucks in a breath.

Your face softens as you take off your mask and Jason sucks in a deep breath. He waits, nearly wanting to jump out of his own skin. He knows you're running every possibility through your head, just to be sure. He has to wait for you to land on this to be real and true. But it’s agonizing and he can’t breathe as he waits. But as he waits, he can see the disbelieve and what he swears was hatred, dissolve from the lines on your face. Your brows knit together as your eyes start to water.

“Jay?” Your voice trembles through the space between you.

Jason nods softly. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You suck in a breath and run the distance between you. You slam into him with a force as your arms wrap around his neck and this time, without hesitation, Jason’s arms wrap around your middle. He holds you as close to him as possible as his eyes close. You smell like his body wash and shampoo and he can’t help but smile. Of course, you do.

It’s unbelievable. You have no idea how it’s possible but it has to be him. No one else would be able to know all of that. You and Jason always kept so much close to your chests when it came to the two of you, you know he didn’t tell anyone. He wouldn’t. It has to be him and you're relieved. You're wrapped in his arms again and it’s like you've been sucked back home in an instant.

It's relief that hits Jason like a freight train. It's firm and hard but comforting. An easy breath of air leaves his lungs and it's as if he hasn't been able to take a full breath since coming back, not until now. Your arms are wrapped around his neck so right he thinks you might strangle him and it feels good. He was so scared you'd punch him and tell him off and leave. He died and a really big part of him, thinks you should do all of those things. But, you don't and Jason is just happy to have you with him, if just for this moment.

Jason pulls down your hood to get you to look at him and the second you do, one of his hands comes up the back of your head and he brings your lips to his. His hand tangles in your hair and he keeps his other wrapped as tightly as he can as if he were to let go for even a second, he'd wake up to relive another nightmare.

Your mouths move together almost carefully at first before it grows sloppy and almost desperate. You slide your hands into the curls at the nape of his neck and you think nothing, right now matters. You can exist right here on this rooftop just like this with him. If you stay like this, nothing can happen. Nothing bad can happen again if you can just stay like this. You beg and plead with the universe to just freeze time but the universe never seems to listen to your pleas.

"I'm so sorry." Jason mutters against your lips, his breath heaving but he keeps his lips just hovering above yours as if he's terrified to move.

You're the one that pulls away to get a good look at him. "W-what...I--" You shake your head and Jason's heart sinks as he feels your arms loosen around his neck. "You died." You chew the inside of your cheek. "H-how?"

“Lazarus Pit.” Jason states. “I don’t know how it works but I was put in it and came out alive.”

Jason knows he can’t tell you much. If he tells you what’s going on, it’ll complicate things a little. Crane already doesn’t trust you. And Jason knows that. Jason also knows you’ll lose your mind if you find out what he’s doing, the whole story. He knows he can’t tell you. Not until the time is right but you, at the very fucking least, deserve to know he’s alive and how. The Titans will find out eventually anyway and none of them could go back and tell you. You’d never forgive him.

If this were any other city, you would say that were a load of shit. But this is Gotham where the impossible always seems possible in the most fucked up ways. It’s just a normal thing here. Acid creating whatever fuck the Joker was. That same acid turning Harley Quinn into whatever she is now that’s actually nothing like the Joker. Poison Ivy accidentally spilling a chemical and turning into what she is now. Insane scientists that torment the city with magic tricks and fear gas. Maybe Lazuaus Pit makes sense.

“Lazarus Pit.” You nod your head once. “That tracks.” You let out a sigh.

“Yeah.” A forced chuckle leaves Jason’s lips as he drops his hand from your hair and moves it to your waist.

“Who put you in it then?” You ask as your hands find their way to his biceps and there's a trickling of anger starting to drip into your stomach.

You're thrilled and relieved he's alive and he's real. But, you're also smack in the middle of grieving him. Now, he's suddenly alive and it's not like he just walked into the manor one day. He's been out here being Red Hood for days and you're just now finding out about it. The relief of him being alive is still throbbing with your heart but there's an anger that's there, moving in slowly. It's as if your body is so used to being mad at the entire world or absolutely miserable that it doesn't know what to do right now. And you think you might be getting whiplash from the emotions. It’s like you go numb as your body sorts through which emotion it wants to land on like some sick arcade game.

Jason shakes his head, knowing this is about to go south. “I can’t tell you.” Jason answers honestly.

That simple sentence of keeping you in the dark, lets your brain settle on anger. He died and you don't even get an explanation as to who brought him back?

You let out this hollowed version of a laugh as you nod your head and you take a step back from him. Jason's hands nearly linger in the air and he swears this is going to be bad. “Oh, okay.” You quip. “So, you get to come back from the fucking dead and just not tell me shit!? That’s how is going to go?” You yell at him. Anger seems to be the easy default emotion lately. But, this time, it gets to be at the person causing it even if it’s not his fault.

There were several reasons Jason didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want you involved being high up on that list. He knows you better than anyone and he knows you're gonna dig. You're going to dig until you get answers and he knows Crane won’t like that. You’ll figure it out. If you figure it out, you’ll be in danger. He doesn’t know what Crane is going to do or want him to do if you figure it out. There’s also the guilt of it all that’s chewing at him.

He feels guilty now. Now that he isn’t high. He feels guilty that he left you alone. And he knew you would probably yell at him. He deserves it but that doesn’t mean he wants to hear it. It hurts him to see you like this. To see you clearly wanting to walk away from this. To walk away from him. He wanted to avoid it all. But that’s not fair and he misses you. And he feels guilty that he’s been lying to you and has to keep lying. None of it is fair to you and you've always been the one person he can trust. You've always been the one person who offers him understanding even when you shouldn’t. But, it’ll keep you safe and at arm’s length and he knows that. It has to be like that until it’s safe. Your safety is still one of his priorities, even when he’s high. That doesn’t change.

“Look, there’s a plan, okay?” Jason sucks in a shaky breath. “I just can’t—“

“Do you think I give a flying fuck about a plan right now!?” You scream back and you know you're angry and that’s not fair either.

But it fucking hurts. It hurts so bad that you just need to scream. You need to scream at the one person who has caused you to hurt this badly and that's him. He died. He died and left you here alone to deal with it all alone. He made a stupid decision and it got him killed. He fucking knew better and he died anyway. And you're pissed about it. But, you stop yourself there because everything you want to say seems cruel. It all seems too cruel to say and it's just the emotions getting in the way because you know you don't mean any of it. And what if it's enough to get him to leave and he dies permanently? You can't say what you're thinking out of fear he won't come back again. You have to bite it down as tears brim your eyes.

"It's fucking dangerous, alright?" Jason pleads with you as he watches the tears wet your cheeks. He never meant to hurt you. Not you. "I don't want you involved."

"And I just have to accept that?" Your voice cracks.

"Yeah." Jason nods softly.

Jason is begging for that to be enough. It should be. It should be enough and it would have been had he not died. You would have blindly trusted everything that came out of his mouth but then he died. And you don't anymore. That changed things.

He says this is dangerous and expects you to just trust him with something dangerous again. The last time he did something dangerous, he got a crowbar to the face by a maniac. It's as if that doesn't matter to him. That it doesn't matter to him that it matters to you. You can't handle being in the dark. Not again.

"Well, that's bullshit!" You yell so loudly it echoes over the rooftop. "You died!" You let out a cry. "You died and you're back! I deserve an explanation!" You throw your arm out to the side.

Jason steps forward, trying to close the distance between you again, wanting so desperately to pull you into him. "I know." He nods and the only reason he doesn't grab you is because he's worried you might lose it entirely. "You have to believe me, okay? I told you when I could."

"That's not fucking fair, Jason!" You bark, your hands balling at your sides as they start to shake with some lethal combination of anger and heartbreak. "You get to come back and be Red Hood and I just have to be okay!? You went to fucking Molly before you came to me! You fucking left me!" Your voice cracks as your heart thunders desperately against your ribcage.

He knew. He always knew one of you wouldn't come home and it would destroy whoever was left in the wake of your death. And he always figured it would be him because of his recklessness. But a part of him wondered if it would be you since the universe loves to torture him. But of course, it would be him because dying broke you. And you breaking breaks him.

"I know it fucking sucks, alright?" Jason raises his voice swallowing the lump in his throat. "I know! I'm cleaning up Gotham, alright? That's what's going on. I found Diego and had to bring him to her, that's all! I'm so fucking sorry." There's desperation in his voice.

"Sorry doesn't fucking fix it, Jason!" You suck in a shaky breath as your heart breaks further. Why does it hurt so bad when he's alive? It shouldn't still hurt but it does. "It doesn't fucking fix it!" You let out a cry as your nose scrunches.

Sorry doesn't make the last six days suddenly disappear from your memory. Sorry doesn't make it feel any better. Sorry fixes nothing because you still found his dead body. Sorry fixes nothing because it's just a fucking word and your heart hurts and everything hurts.

"I know." Jason lowers his voice. "I know, alright? Just--"

"No, you don't!" You step forward and push his chest, every emotion flooding your system to the point it just needs somewhere to go. "You died!" You let out a wail as you shove him again, harder this time as he takes a step back. "It destroyed me!" You shove him again but it's weaker this time. "It destroyed me." Your voice lowers as you rest your fists on his chest. "You died and it destroyed me and I had to fucking find you and I tried! I tried to save you!" You hit your fist on his chest. "I tried and it didn't fucking do anything because you were already dead! It's been fucking hell! It hurts and I can't sleep and I can't eat and I can't stop fucking crying and Gar will get me to laugh and I feel guilty. And I feel fucking guilty I missed it! Because you had this stupid fucking idea to go after the fucking Joker on your own! If you wanted to prove something, fuck! Take me with you, Jason!" You hit his chest again as you look up at him. "I would have gone with you!" You shake your head as tears fall down your cheeks. " You shove him again. "You fucking left me!" You shove him again but this time, he grabs your wrists as you let out a sob. "You left me." You let out a weak whine.

Jason's eyes glass over and he is so sorry. There should be another word stronger than sorry because even that doesn't feel right. He feels so guilty and he doesn't think he'll ever not feel guilty over it. He swears he'll always feel this heaviness in his chest, a burning pain where your name is still stitched into the flesh. The Joker murdered him brutally and he's the one that feels guilty and at fault because you're right. He shouldn't have gone and he should have told you. But, that wasn't the plan and this was his to prove, not yours. It was always about him with that one. It should have been his. And he's so fucking sorry.

"I know." Jason nods as he feels your arms relax in his hands. "I fucking know and I-I don't know." Jason shrugs as he drops your wrists. "I'm fucking sorry."

Your body shakes slightly as a silent cry escapes your lips. Jason knows he'll never be able to forgive himself for this one. He doesn't think either of you will come back from this. How could you? He might be alive but that doesn't change what it did to you. It doesn't change that he lied and is still lying to you. He always swore you deserved better and that thought has never been more true.

"I know." You nod softly and you're tired.

You rest your head against him sucking in a breath and you hate that you're even mad at him. You know it's not his fault. It's not his fault he was murdered. It was stupid, it was dumb. It got him killed but it's not his fault. The Joker was a maniac who took an opportunity. Jason got killed and that is not his fault and you know that. It's not fair to put the blame on him because you're mad but you just couldn't help it. It all just came out like a volcano long overdue for an eruption. You're just...hurt. By all of it. But, yelling at him, kind of helped a little bit and you can't stay mad. It was always something you were bad at and something Jasn was always really good at. You can't stay mad at him ever but especially now when he's alive. He's alive and you're happy he is. So, you bite down the hurt of everything as you look back up to him.

"I'm so sorry." Jason's voice cracks. "I never meant to....to die." Jason grits his teeth and that's part of why he likes the drug. He isn't haunted by that night when he takes it. He remembers everything.

"I know." Your voice is broken as you nod. "It's just...it's...it's so fucking hard, Jay." The use of his nickname fills this void in his heart. "And nothing helps." You put a hand to his face and he almost pulls away. "I really fucking miss you." Your thumb traces over his cheek and he misses you, too.

Jason places a hesitant hand over yours. "I'm alive, alright? I never meant for that shit to happen and I'm sorry I didn't fucking tell you. Please, believe me."

"Why didn't you?" You ask as you search his face for any answers while you drop your hand.

"I'm just fucking tired of the nightmares and shaky hands and being fucking scared." Jason lets out an annoyed scoff. "Robin isn't scared so I....I got some help." Jason shakes his head as you raise a brow. You hate the sound of that sentence. "And...I didn't want your help. I didn't want you to get dragged into it, alright?"

"I would have helped, Jay." You plead with him. "You could have told me. You know, you can tell me anything. I'm always on your side."

Jason knows. He knows but he also knew the risk all of this would take. If he told you he went to Crane for help, he thinks you'd leave, even now you'd probably leave. You're understanding but you have lines and Jason thinks Crane would be your line. Jason working with him. You would blame Crane for him dying and Jason is protecting him. At the end of the day, Crane is helping him with the drug and the city. Crane brought him back to life. Maybe he's not so bad but he can't tell you that. He knows he if tells you anything more, you'll probably leave and he can't lose you. And the idea of you being out there with him that night, nearly sends him into cardiac arrest. You'd be dead, too but Crane probably wouldn't have brought you back.

"I didn't want your help." Jason urges. "It wasn't your fucking problem, alright? I wanted to do it on my own."

You offer him a subtle nod as you sniffle. "We're supposed to be a team. Your problems are my problems, Jay. I know you're thinking it, you're not a burden to me." You plead with him to believe you. "But, I get it." You nod softly, chewing the inside of your cheek because you do understand him wanting to do it by himself. You get it. "Why can't you tell me now?"

Jason's heart skips with you saying he's not a burden because he swears if you only knew, you'd think differently. It's all too much. You say it's not a burden but your eyes are sunken in and there are dark bags under your eyes. Your eyes aren't crinkling at the edges and you lack the fire across your expression Jason always adored so much. This has been a burden. He hasn't even been around and he's been a burden anyway. But, he doesn't want to stand here and go back and forth about that. He can't stand here and do that.

Jason cautiously moves his hands to your hips and a part of him thinks you'll push him away but you don't. "I can't lose you." Jason states quietly.

Your brows knit together as if you're trying to hold back more tears. A shakey breath leaves your lungs and somehow, your chest feels heavier. "Yeah, but I lost you." You plead with him. "You're not gonna lose me, Jay." You shake your head. He wants to believe that so badly but if you only knew, you wouldn't be saying that.

"I won't risk it." Jason keeps his stance firm but his voice is still quiet and soft.

You still mean more to him than he'll ever be able to say out loud. He won't risk losing you, not to all of the shit that's going on. He doesn't know what he would do if he did.

You let out a sigh and decide to settle for the answer, seeing the look of desperation clouding his eyes. "Okay." You nod softly. "Then, what the fuck were you doing making a drug?" You ask him with exasperation but you watch him carefully. Jason isn't stupid, he knows how to cover his tracks if he wants to. If didn't want someone finding that formula, no one would have found it.

Jason's eyes dodge to the ground before coming to back yours. He left it out on purpose. He knew, despite the drug's false sense of confidence, there was a chance he wouldn't come back. Jason wanted you to know if he didn't make it back but by how you're asking, he can tell you didn't figure it out yet which is a relief.

"If you fucking tell me you can't tell me, I'm going to lose my shit." You blink at him.

"You found it?" Jason asks.

"No, Dick did. I was a little busy ya know, grieving you to be searching your room for clues. Dick was a detective, he wants answers, too. So, you wanna explain that or?"

Jason shakes his head and he can see you at the end of your rope. "I can't tell you." Jason scoffs.

"Fuck you." You huff back as Jason swears his heart is actively bleeding right through his ribs.

"It's to do with the plan." Jason states. "I can't tell you anything more--"

"Bullshit. You can and you're choosing not to. You can always trust me so it's bullshit. I don't--"

"No!" Jason yells back. "Because if I fucking tell you, you're going back to Dick and you're gonna tell him because you'll be fucking worried. You always worried too damn much! It'll ruin everything and I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do if they fucking find out you know!"

"Gee, I wonder why I worry so much, Jay." You quip. "Who the fuck is they?"

Jason's eyes go glossy and he can't do this. He can't do it. "Please, I can't fucking tell you."

"We're supposed to be a team. You and me."

"I know. I'm fucking sorry. I just can't. Please. You say you trust me so trust me." Jason's fingers dig into your hips with the plea.

You nod and you know he's sorry. He feels guilty and it's going to eat him. He doesn't deserve it and you think, the best thing you can do right now, is try to drop it a little bit for right now. You can come back to this.

"I forgive you, okay?" You roll your eyes. "And I'll drop it right now but we're definitely circling back to it. But, you have to tell me something, okay? I deserve that." You ask with hope in your eyes for the first time since he died.

He can give you that. He can give you something else to hold you off for a little while. That's fair. You forgive him for right now and it's him and you.

"I'm working with someone who has the same vision for the city. They got me into the pit and brought me back." Jason explains. "Ya know, taking out the big players and shit. They don't want anyone to know."

"So, you decided to be the face because?" You question with a raised brow. This is weird. Someone else wants to run the crime of the city, but it's too big of a risk for them to show their face but not for Jason to be handling all of it?

"I've got the training." Jason shrugs casually. "You trust me, right?" Jason asks.

"Of course." You nod as your words are slow. "But, it's weird and I think you know that."

"It is." Jason chuckles. "Just...trust me, babe. I got this, promise." Jason offers you his troubled grin as he squeezes your hips.

"That really is not as reassuring as you think it is, Jay." You offer him a grin but you decide to take it. You have to take what he's willing to give you right now but you're definitely digging into this one and you're gonna let Jason think you're letting it go. You don't want him to go off the deep end trying to cover more of his tracks. "Fine." You widen your eyes at him as Jason gives you a smirk. "Still mad at you."

Going back and forth isn't going to do either of you any good, especially since Jason is clearly going to keep everything a secret anyway. So, you decide, you'll dig later and you'll just let you both exist in this moment back together. You don't want him to have to go and it leave like this.

"Good." Jason nods quickly as you give him a fake scowl.

"Yeah, fuck you." You nearly laugh as you say it and the cold feeling in your chest starts to dethaw.

"Time and place, babe." Jason quips back and he has missed you so much.

"Fuck off." You shake your head as you look down and then back to him, looking at the streak of hair. "Are you okay? Ya know, ya died."

Jason nods. "Yeah, all good." Jason clears his throat. He watches you start to chew your cheek as your eyes scan over his face. The soft smile starts to fall short as he sees the distress start to take over and he knows. "I remember it, I know you want to ask."

"Yeah..." You nod and you swear you just swallowed your own heartbeat. "That's....fucked." You nod with wide eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, not your fucking fault. I'll be fine." Jason shakes his head and he desperately cannot talk about it. Not like this. He can already feel his hands start to grow clammy and cold. They're nearly vibrating against your suit. "Can we not..."

"Yeah." You smile softly as you run your fingers through his hair. You change the subject more light-hearted. "What's up with the hair?" You laugh softly as the white strands fall through your fingers.

Jason's eyes look up as the strands fall onto his forehead. "Fucking stupid, right?"

"I like it, actually. It looks good on you." You drop your hand, a smile splitting your face.

Jason's heart thunders against his ribs and he hasn't felt happy since coming back, not really. He's been a little busy getting things in motion for him and Crane. There was of course a weird relief and happiness of being alive but that was just immediately followed by guilt and anxiety, like he distrubed the forces of nature by coming back. The drug helps that fear, too. And it helps the guilt, a lot more than Jason really realized it would. But, he hasn't felt happy and he finds himself looking down at you and he feels a sense of happiness. It's different than before, but it's there like a small light hidden in the back of his heart.

"You think so?" Jason raises a brow at you.

"Yeah, of course." You laugh softly.

You know you need to have a longer discussion about everything. But, this small exchange about his hair feels normal. Maybe, instead of the back and forth about everything that's too heavy, shelving those things is better. For right now. It always worked that way with both of you anyway. Shelf it for a little bit and circle back. You always made more progress when you did that.

"I really missed you, Jay." Your smile starts to fall.

"I missed you, too, princess." Jason smirks and you roll your eyes. "How have you been holding up?" Jason asks cautionly and he's not really sure why he asked. He knows the answer.

You shake your head. "Gar told me he was worried Dick would have me committed. So, there was that. I told Bruce off finally. Babs did, too. Told off the Titans again. Burned down Jerry's old house."

Jason lets out a laugh. "I was being fucking sarcastic." Jason shakes his head. "Flame thrower?"

"I told Gar that's what you would say!" You laugh. "No, just acid and a few matches."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a sigh through a smile. "Wish I could've seen it."

"You would have loved it. It, uh, it burned to the ground. Gar wasn't too happy about it but uh, ya know, he let me do it."

"Why did you have Gar with you anyway?" Jason questions knowing damn well that would not have been your first choice to have him with you as you commit arson.

"Oh, he's my babysitter now." You roll your eyes.

"Why? What did you do?"

"I may have killed a guy yesterday and another one this morning, not sure if Dick knows about that one yet."

Jason's brows furrow before he quirks one up. "The fuck are you killing people for?" Jason's heart sinks and he didn't want her to have blood on her hands.

"Uh," You raise a brow. "You decapitated six people." You stare up at him and Jason nods his head. "Exactly. Which, by the fucking way, what the fuck? Don't tell me just...what the fuck?" You scrunch your face before shaking your head quickly. "Because they fucking suck. Guys like Pete Hawkins who you beat me to, by the way."

Jason laughs as his nose scrunches. "Oh, I'm so sorry I didn't know you were gonna start killing dickweeds."

"Good, you should be." You grin back. "Yeah, so, uh, Dick's mad about it and made Gar come with me and it was a whole thing. But, you have the Titans busy tonight so I didn't have to lose him like I did this morning."

Jason shakes his head and he has to ask. Jason knows where your moral compass was. You would have killed Jerry had he not stopped you and a part of him thinks you would have tried to kill Dr. Light if you were on your own. He knows you killed some of the men from CADMUS, in self-defense. But, you decided, after he died, to actually start killing so he has to ask.

"Are you doing that because of me?"

"Yes and no." You shrug. "You, me, Molly, Dick, Diego, all the others. For all of us. Like we talked about but uh, I'm just taking it a step further into permanent. What about you? Is that why you're going after who you are?"

As much as he didn't want you to have blood on your hands, he can't very well disagree. He gets it. He's still somehow surprised and not. And a part of him almost finds it a little amusing. He dies and comes back to clean up the city as Red Hood and from the top. Meanwhile, he dies and you decide to start killing the guys that don't make it to Bruce's radar.

"Kind of yeah." Jason nods. "Organized crime. Can't stop it completely but you can run it, control it from the top."

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, that's smart." You shake your head. "Better than nothing."

"Exactly." Jason chuckles.

"I'm really happy you're alive, Jay." You nod your head up at him before you brush his hands off of you and close the remaining distance between you, wrapping your arms around his middle.

You can feel him relax under you again and it's like it was before. He pauses for a few seconds and then wraps his arms around you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as you squeeze him and it feels like it's supposed to. It's not supposed to hurt. It's not supposed to be sad and heartbreaking and bitter and sour. It's supposed to be just him and you. The two of you together. And that's how you are on this rooftop. And Jason wants to be relieved because you're hugging him but he knows you shouldn't and he knows he needs to ask about sides. Titans are on his list. You're a Titan.

"Hey, uh," Jason clears his throat. "Are you working with the Titans?"

You pull away looking up at him with confusion. "No? Moral dispute situation and you're keeping them busy. Why?"

He can't tell you but he thinks if he tells you that one more time, you might punch him.

"Keep it that way." Jason states.

"Are you really going to target them? They're....they're your friends. Your family."

"They're gonna keep coming after me." Jason keeps it short and it's not a full lie.

"And if you told Dick you're alive, you know, he might actually understand, right? Like, he might fuck off. You're the reason the Titans are back. Red Hood."

"No." Jason scoffs as he shakes his head. "You know how Dick is with me."

"He's had your back since you died, Jay. And...he's been there for me, too. I mean, he's actually doing kind of a job at the whole leader thing right now. You should talk to him." You press softly.

"No." Jason shakes his head as his jaw squares and you find this to be weird. Jason doesn't talk about his feelings but he doesn't even have to. He should just show up. That's all it'll take. He has to know that. Doesn't he? "It'll be all about him being fucking right and doing better or whatever. It's not fucking worth it and I'm not going back to before."

"What does that mean?" You ask as your brows knit together in confusion. All you want to know is where the hell this is even coming from. They were fine before he died.

"Nothing. Just...don't work with them, alright?"

"You're not gonna tell them you're alive?" You question him as the pieces start to connect.

Jason shakes his head. "No and can you not tell them? Please."

"Jason, how the hell can you ask me to do that? Gar is your best friend. And you want me to go back to the manor, look your best friend and your bother in the eyes and not tell them you're alive?"

"Yeah." Jason nods once. "Look, it fucking sucks but if you tell Gar then you gotta tell everyone because Gar's face will give it away. Dick will tell everyone, too. This has to stay between us."

"But why? You're alive and that's a good thing in case you forgot? Like...Jay..."

"No, I know." Jason nods.

"You can't tell me?"

"No." Jason nods his head.

"You fucking suck." You let out a sigh. "Fine, but you better come clean with Gar and Molly soon. I can't lie to them for weeks. They'll hate me."

"I know." Jason nods quickly. "I'll tell them but not right now."

"Okay, Jay." You roll your eyes. "So, you're telling me not to work with the Titans. Can you give me some sort of a reason not to? I know, you can't tell me. But, come on, Jay. Give me something."

Jason pauses for a second, bouncing ideas in his head before he settles on one. "Think about it, if you work with them you have to go against me. And if you don't, they'll come after you, too. Don't want you in the middle of it." Jason explains and it's not a lie.

He really, truly, does not want you in the middle of it. You're the one who'd get hurt in all of it. But, it's also because Jason knows Crane is going to want more information on you. He didn't tell him nearly enough before he died and Jason doesn't want to. Instead, he'd rather assure Crane that you're not an issue because you're not working with the Titans, as loyalty to him.

"Alright." You let out a sigh. "That's...a good point." You know if it came down to it, if you really really needed to pick a side, it would be Jason's. And you do not want to do that. His reasoning is good enough for you. "Okay." You nod softly.

"Thank you."

"Mhm, ya owe me, Jaybird." You flash a grin at him.

"Anything for you." Jason's voice drops as his brows knit together and he offers you a sarcastic nod.

"Oh, is that so? Anything?" You give him a wild grin as you look at his lips.

"Anything, babe." Jason teases, dipping his head down slightly.

Your lips brush over his. "I'd really like Excellent Gotham right now actually."

Jason's head tilts back with a laugh. "It's not even that good!"

"It's the best! You have bad taste!" You laugh back.

"Shut up." Jason groans, cupping your face with one hand and bringing your lips to his.

Jason feels you smile against his lips and he gets this sense of home again. Your mouth moves with his and he feels like he's been sucked right back home. It's a warming feeling but then thoughts of the manor come back and Bruce and Robin and the Joker. Home doesn't feel the same anymore because he died and he let you and Bruce down. Home doesn't feel the same anymore because it's not safe there. Home isn't the same because Bruce didn't kill the Joker, not even for him. That's what Crane said and Jason knows Bruce's morals. Home isn't home because he's lying to you and he feels guilty. It all feels a little too heavy again. And he can't do it right now. So, he pulls away.

"I'm sorry." Jason shuts his eyes for a second and you feel your heart stop. Not again. "I-I gotta go." Jason swallows thickly.

"W-what? W-why?" You ask.

"I just do." Jason nods down at you and he's begging for you to forgive him. Jason presses a kiss to your forehead and backs away. Your entire body erupts in chills and he can't leave. Not again. "I'll call you." Jason pulls out a burner phone from his pocket and hands it over. His hands are shaking again and you're thrown into a worrying spin.

"Jay--"

Jason shakes his head. "I'm fine, alright? Take it and I'll call you. I promise." Jason urges as you take the phone from him.

"You're....you're gonna leave?" You ask as your eyes start to water. "B-but uh, I don't want you to." You look down and try to tug at the ends of the sleeves of your suit and Jason hates himself for doing this. You'll understand later. You have to.

"I have to. I have some shit I gotta get to. But, look, I'll be fine." Jason kisses your cheek and takes a step back. "You and me?"

You watch him with a breaking heart. You knew he wouldn't come back with you because he wants this to be a secret but you were really hoping you'd have more time. There's never enough time.

"You and me." You nod and Jason offers you a sad smile as he goes to walk away and you don't want him to. "Please, don't leave me again, Jay."

Jason freezes in his stance, his jaw clenching. Your voice shatters his heart. It's desperate and soft and weak as if you're clawing at all of your self-control to keep it together again. If it were just you and him, he would never. He'd go back with you. And maybe there is a tiny part of him that questions the whole plan. But, he can't do that because he knows Crane is right.

This is the way to get the city back because Bruce was wrong. This is the only way. And Jason wants his own revenge. He can't do that if he goes back. Jason swears he deserves his own revenge for everything that happened to him. Crane is right about mostly everyone. But, it is agonizing hearing you ask him not to leave and knowing he has to. This is the hardest thing he's ever done.

"I'm so sorry." Jason turns around. "I'll be fine, trust me. I'll call you."

"I love you." You state, chewing the inside of your cheek as you desperately try not to burst into tears again.

There's the smallest bit of relief that comes over him. He was hoping you still did.

"Love you, too. Don't do anything fucking stupid, alright? And don't worry so much. Get some damn sleep and go back to the manor and eat something. I'm fine."

"You don't do anything fucking stupid. And you should get some sleep and eat." You quip back weakly.

"Yeah, alright." Jason chuckles. "I'll call you, swear." Jason turns back around and heads back inside.

A few tears leak from your eyes as you quickly wipe them away. You have no idea what to make of this whole thing. None of it makes any sense. But he has to be real now. It all has to be real. He's alive and he seems...well given the circumstances. And you have no choice but to trust him, it's just really hard.

The burner starts ringing just as you put your mask back on.

"Hello...?"

"Told you'd I'd call you." Jason says through the helmet.

A smile tugs at your lips. He's still a shithead. "Yeah, okay." You roll your eyes.

"Just wanted you to know I mean it. I'm not leaving you like that again, alright? Trust me."

This small gesture does ease some of your worry. Not all of them, not even close but enough. Maybe you have a little bit of hope it'll be okay this time. It has to be. "Okay, Jay. Please, be safe out there."

"I will. You, too. Don't do anything fucking stupid." Jason chuckles.

"Of course not." You laugh back as you make your way back into the building. "I only do stupid shit when I'm with you."

Jason laughs on the other end. "Sure, babe." Jason quips. "Love you." Jason says.

"I love you, too." You smile softly as Jason hangs up.

As you walk back into the building and head out to your bike, you think about everything Jason said. Jason is usually very careful with his words, when he needs to be anyway. Which makes you think that's what he was doing, being careful not to reveal too much but just enough. He's working with someone but he can't tell you who. Of all people, Jason knows he can trust you. He's trusting you not to tell your best friends he's alive, but he can't tell you that? That's odd. He said he got help with being scared and the shaking and nightmares. What in the fuck is that even supposed to mean? Sure, it's great he's back and he's alive and you're relieved but those things are worrisome.

You're not supposed to dig but you like to dig. You like to have all of the answers especially when it comes to Jason so you get back to the manor and head to the Batcave. You hang up your suit before you sit at the Batcomputer. You tap the keys as you think.

If anyone knows Jason, it's going to be you. If anyone can figure it out, it's going to be you. And while he told you not to, you have to. He came back from the dead, literally woke up, and decided to be a crime lord. There is something off about that and you need an answer. You need to know he is actually safe with everything that's going on. Though, you will give him the fact everyone else seems to be scared of him now. That's at least nice.

Jason, on the other hand, does not feel relieved. This is for the best. Crane is right. The city doesn't need Batman. It needs someone new, someone willing to do all of this shit Bruce was too cowardly to do. His ways don't work here. They never have. It's Jaosn's turn to take over. Control the crime instead of trying to get rid of it. Organized crime is better than whatever the hell is going on in Gotham today. But, he feels guilty anyway.

He went out behind your back and he died. He never got to say goodbye. You never got to say goodbye and you found him. It was so wrong of him to think you wouldn't. It happened to him and he has the privilege of not seeing the aftermath of what the Joker did to him. He has to deal with the trauma that comes with it and he lives through it, which is its own hell but he put you through a different hell by you being the one to find him. He can only imagine what you saw. And he hates that thought.

And he hates the way you looked at him. Torn between disbelief and what he swears was hatred. He never meant for any of this to happen and yet, you're the one that got hurt in the crossfire. It was selfish, he tells himself. It was selfish not to just tell you. He remembers thinking that before he blacked out. He remembers wishing he would have told you and he still won't. He has the opportunity now to tell you and he just can't. He knows Crane has good intentions but there's something pecking at the back of his head that says to keep you out of it. It's Jonathan Crane. He trusts him but Crane might not trust you and that's a problem. He knows it. So, he has to deal with it.

By taking out the inhaler and inhaling a deep breath as his pupils glow a bright yellow. The fear and guilt and pain and worry fade away from his veins. The pecking goes dark and he feels nothing. He feels nothing at all anymore, not even the relief of feeling nothing. He's just numb and it's so much better than the alternative as he heads back to the basement in Arkham to prepare for the next step.

You search the Batcomputer for the night Jason died. You've avoided it. You saw him that night and that was enough for you. You don't need to see it actually take place but you look for the footage anyway. Some part of you thinks maybe if you can find it, you'll figure out what's really going on. Jason is back from the dead and that's great, but something lead him to the Joker that night. And he did not offer you a good enough explanation. Maybe the answer is in the footage. Someone had to know he was going to go out there and likely die. You want an answer as to who that is and why they would do it to him. It had to be some sort of setup somehow. So, you find the footage because of course Bruce didn't delete it and you press play as you hold your breath.

You watch Jason enter the amusement park. Your heart starts to race and you swear you're not going to watch the whole thing. You don't need to. So, you have your hand ready to pause it. Jason looks around at the closed-down games but The Joker appears on camera but Jason's not turning around. Your brows furrow, fully expecting Jason to realize the Joker is right there but he doesn't.

You don't get why he's not turning around. He has to know the Joker is there, he has to know. Jason has really good instincts with being on the streets and Robin training. How is he missing this? And then one of the games goes off and Jason turns around, a look of fear on his face before the Joker smacks him with the crowbar.

You pause the video as quickly as your reflexes will allow you. You clench your jaw as you remember what he looked like that night. It'll be forever burned into your eyes. Your hands start to shake as your eyes start to burn. You chew your cheek hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep it together. He's alive. He's alive. He's alive. You repeat it over and over and over again. Trying to convince your own memories they're wrong.

You shake your head, fast-forwarding, barely looking at the screen until the Joker walks off with a pep in his step, proud of the job he's just done. You sniffle as you swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes trained on the screen as you watch Jason's lifeless body. A part of you thinks this was dumb because you're not getting any more answers. Instead, you're just retraumatizing yourself and getting more questions. It's not really helping but you had hope, it would show something. And it doesn't. You watch yourself appear on screen and that's enough. You pause it and run a hand over your face.

You take a few minutes to breathe and gather yourself before you play it back. You watch it over and over again, always stopping the second Jason jumps and then you rewind. There has to be a clue. There has to be because Jason left a fucking formula for a drug lying around. He got sloppy at some point so there has to be some sort of clue. So, you play it back so many times you lose count until you hear someone come in behind you.

You're quick to exit out of the video before you spin around to see Dick still in his Nightwing suit.

"Hey." You let out a shakey breath, eyeing Dick carefully.

"What are you doing?" Dick crosses his arms over his chest, looking at the blank screen behind you. He saw you exit out of something.

"Nothing." You shrug, brushing it off. If he knows, he'll definitely have you committed. "How'd it go?" You switch it back to him. "Nightwing."

"It was a setup." Dick scoffs but he's still watching you. You're up to something and Dick is really growing to dislike when you're up to something. Nothing good ever comes from it. "What were you looking at?" He presses.

"What do you mean a set-up?" You ask. "Just some stuff. It's nothing." You push. Dick narrows his eyes at you, holding his stance on withholding what happened tonight. You roll your eyes, thinking of a quick lie. "Ya know, it bothers me. Jason going after the Joker. If he wanted to prove himself, to you and Bruce, why the Joker? There are so many others that would have done that job and Jason was reckless, not stupid. The Joker was stupid. So...Bruce is a sick fuck and kept the footage. Thought maybe I'd find something, a why. Did not."

"Excuse me." Dick shakes his head, his eyes widening and the worry he felt before for you intensifies. "You watched--"

"No, I stopped it. I didn't watch the whole thing go down. I just watched until Joker showed up. Jason...he never saw him coming. I don't know. It's whatever, ya know? So, now ya know." You shrug your shoulders. "I'm fine, ya know, all things considered. So, it was a setup?"

"You really don't need to be watching that." Dick scolds.

"I know. I won't again." You nod your head softly, looking to your lap and then back to him.

"He lured us to the bank using the kidnappings as a ploy. They were never in danger. Gar and Conner found them in a few vans, safe. The bank was a set up to blow it up with us." Dick explains.

Now that you know Red Hood is Jason, most of that isn't surprising. Him targeting the Titans though, that's still weird.

"Shit." You nod your head. "I mean, at least the kids and parents are okay." You states. "Still no idea who he is?"

"No. We'll catch him though."

"Why? He's not doing anything worse than Penguin. Is he really a Titan problem?" You questions, more so worried for Jason's sake. And maybe you're worried for the safety of the Titans.

You wonder if being resurrected changes someone. Jason's messing with fate in a way. Fate took him, killed him and now he's back. It's a betrayal. Maybe fate decides to keep a part of his soul as a warning that it'll come back for him. Maybe that's why he's doing this. A part of him died and stayed dead. But, you think maybe that's not it because of how he was with her. All things considered, he seemed normal. Maybe it's the trauma of dying that changes someone. Jason says he remembers it, maybe that changed him, changed how he saw the Titans in a way. You aren't sure but it pecks at you anyway.

"Yes, he's getting people killed, kidnapping people, robbing banks. That's bad. This is a problem. And he's targeting us." Dick states with the raise of his brows. "The Robin clue was not a coincidence. He asked for me specifically." Dick's eyes narrow and he's growing suspicious. "Do you know something?"

"Why the fuck would I know anything? I'm just saying. He's not that fucking bad. I mean, it terms of Gotham freaks go." You defend. "Maybe that mother did do something but you missed it. I don't know."

"What were you doing tonight?" Dick questions and you can tell he's spinning this on you.

"Patrolling." You shrug. "You can check, I didn't kill anyone. Didn't even attack anyone tonight. You should be proud." You quip as you get up.

You feel bad about it. Jason is alive and you can't say a damn word. A big part of you believes that if Jason were to just come home, they could work it out. Whatever the hell is up with Jason and Dick now, they could work it out. It's not fair to withhold it and it's not fair Jason asked you to do that. So, you aren't going to tell Dick, but you're gonna ask a few questions. This is going to get messy when he finds out and you're going to be lodged in the middle of it. That's not what you want so when Dick finds out, you want to make sure you drop enough questions that he'll know you knew. And wanted to tell him. It's not technically betrayal if Dick doesn't figure it out.

"Do you think it's weird the new guy is targeting you guys?" You ask carefully. "I mean...you were in San Francisco. You didn't go on patrol at all until he asked for you. Don't you think that's weird?"

Dick nods his head and he is really getting the feeling you've figured something out and maybe you're willing to share for once. "Yes, of course, I think that's weird. That's one of the reasons it's important we find out who this guy is and bring him in."

"Right." You nod your head. "Well, you said Robin wasn't a coincidence so who knows you're Nightwing and Robin?"

"What makes you think he knows I was Robin? Maybe it was about Jason." Dick offers, gesturing out a hand before crossing it back with his other arm.

"Maybe, yeah. But, that would mean it would have to be someone who knows Nightwing also knew Robin. Either way, it has to be someone you know, right?"

"And you're telling me you don't know anything?" Dick's voice is a accusatory.

"I don't know anything, just thinking about that, too."

Dick lets out a sigh. "You could come along and help." Dick offers. "It might be good for you."

"Pretty sure you just don't want me to keep up with my hit list."

Dick holds the bridge of his nose, resting a hand on his hip. "You have a hit list?"

"Yes." You answer casually. "Uh," You furrow your brows because to be fair, maybe if this was some random guy you would take up the offer to run from the grief you're supposed to be in. But, it's Jason. You can't cross the line between the Titans and him. You won't pick between the two of them. Keeping his secret is bad enough. If you go with when they fight him eventually, that means you have to pick a side. You will not pick between them. "It's just...I know it might help but, uh, I just...I don't know. Can I think about it?" You ask.

Dick nods softly. "Yeah, of course." He offers a soft smile. "Just...let me know. We could use all the help we could get."

"Yeah." You nod letting out a soft sigh. He has no idea. And you feel horrible about it.

Jason is already making you pick between them and you'd be lying if you said there's a part of you that isn't already a little resentful. You aren't very good at making friends. It's always been you and Molly, Tim as an acquaintance. That's it. But, the Titans, most of them, feel like such a family to you. Gar is your best friend, Conner is really nice, Kory is protective and you look at her like an older sister. Dick is like an older brother, somehow. How can you keep lying to them?

"Seriously, are you okay?" Dick asks.

You nod. "As okay as someone can be, I guess." Your smile never meets your eyes as you look to the ground. "Just...uh, trying to figure out how to carry everything okay." You chew the inside of your cheek.

"You'll figure it out." Dick assures you. "You have us." He nods his head once.

"You're getting a lot better at this shit. It's kind of weird." You offer him a genuine smile. "Thanks. I'm, uh, I'm gonna go to bed. I'll hang around with discussions and stuff with Red Hood but I don't think I wanna go out with the team just yet." You nod softly, figuring knowing what's going on is better than just avoiding it entirely.

"Okay, you're always welcome to change your mind."

"Thanks, Dickolas." You laugh softly before you walk past him and head out of the Batcave.

The next day, you find yourself in the Batcave with Gar, Kory, and Conner. Gar and Kory are playing chess while you and Conner are seated at the Batcomputer. Gar caught you up on everything that happened yesterday, including Dick going to Crane for help which is what has lead them to a game of chess. You think it's insane that Crane is even on the GCPD payroll. He's a master manipulator, but sure, they can definitely trust him.

There's a guilt pulling at the bottom of your stomach as you watch Gar and Kory play. Jason was his best friend and you can't say anything. Gar is understanding. He'll find out Jason's alive and you knew and he'll understand why you didn't tell him. That's just how Gar is but, you also know he's still going to be mad and he should be. You would be pissed if the roles were reversed but you have to try not to focus on that because at the end of the day, Jason is targeting them and they're targeting Jason.

You're seated on the floor, petting Krypto. "Can you guys even trust Crane on this one?" You look over to Gar and Kory.

"Is he that bad?" Kory asks, glancing over to you.

"Yeah, he made a fear gas and poisoned the city. It makes people live out their worst fears as if it's all real. It's insane and he's a master manipulator. I can't believe he's actually on the GCPD payroll." You roll your eyes.

"Dick said we can trust this. He's helped solve other cases." Gar assures you, still studying the board.

"Right..." You nod. "What's your plan then? Crack this and hunt him down? Send him to Arkham?"

Kory, Gar, and Conner look over at you confused. Gar knows when something is up. You're a lot better today than you were yesterday. You're not as snippy. He's glad, of course, but he's getting the feeling something is off anyway. You wanted nothing to do with this but Dick says you could help and suddenly you're on board. That's weird, even for you.

"Why? You said were going to help." Gar questions but he's not as good at digging for answers.

"Yeah, I mean...I said I'm fine with helping from here." You correct. You're definitely not actually helping, but they don't know that. "I'm just saying, it's Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow. And I don't know. Maybe Red Hood has a point or two. That's all." You shrug your shoulders.

"He decapitated six men." Kory states, a slight snip in her voice as she watches you.

"I'm not saying I agree with the decapitation." You defend and you definitely do not want to know what lead Jason to that method of murder. "Just saying I don't disagree with who he's killing."

"Whats going on with you?" Gar asks as Kory takes her turn.

"My boyfriend was brutally murdered by the Joker?" You quip. "Kind of don't care much anymore about how shit is stopped as long as it is stopped." You chew the inside of your cheek and it's not a lie. It's just...Jason is the one doing it.

"Right." Gar nods, unconvinced as he looks back to the board as him and Kory continue their game of chess.

Kory and Gar continue their game while Conner reads over a book on different chess moves. You actually find this to be quite nice. You get to know what they're planning before anything happens and you can warn Jason. And you aren't actually sabotaging anything. You don't know how to play chess, and Conner has the reading covered. You're really no help right now and that's fine with you. You're pretty content listening and petting Krypto.

"Do you always get this way when you get competitive?" Kory asks, pulling your attention to Kory and Gar. Gar has a grin on his face as he holds his head up with one hand, his other arm holding up his elbow. "By this way, I mean insane."

Gar chuckles softly. "I'm problem-solving." He states as he moves a chess piece.

"Yes, he does." You add in, earning a fake glare from Gar. You offer a wide-tooth grin in response.

"Birds opening. The answer's right in front of us. It's hidden in plain sight." Gar explains.

You roll your eyes. Jason loves to play games so it's not surprising he's literally using bird examples as clues. Though, you do wonder what is making him do it. It reminds you of the Riddler in a way.

"Speaking of Russians," Conner chimes in, pointing a finger at the book with a chuckle. "This guy, uh, this guy Bobby Fisher had the fillings removed from his mouth because he thought the Russians were using it as a radio channel--"

"Stop." Gar cuts him off suddenly, looking over at Conner.

"It's a fact." Conner says, his voice now depleted.

"Hold on. Fisher took out his own fillings?" Gar questions.

"Uh..." Conner stutters, his brows knitting together in confusion. "Not sure if I should talk or not."

"He did it because he thought the Russians were trying to beat him." Gar states, his attention back on the board. You look to Conner with just as much confusion. Gar lets out a chuckle as he gains a grin. "It was a defensive move. We're looking at this the wrong way." Gar sighs. "The answer isn't figuring out more of birds opening moves. It's how we beat it." Gar turns the board around so Kory's pieces are in front of him. You can't help but smile softly. There's just something about the way he gets when he figures something out. "Conner, top five defensive moves against Birds opening." Gar states.

You grab the book and hand it over to Conner. Dick walks in just then with furrowed brows as he watches Gar scramble to place the chess pieces while Conner flips through the book.

"I wouldn't." Kory states quickly, gesturing a hand to Dick. "He's on a roll."

"From's Gambit." Conner starts listing. "Uh, the modern defense. Fiancheto. Hobbs Gambit."

"Hobbs?" Dick questions, his attention pulling to Conner. Conner nods quickly and reads off what the play is.

You recognize the name from something Batman and Robin shut down years ago. You have to withhold your eye roll at the thought of it. Jason is just out there planning games with the codes and it's all coming back to Robin. Of course, it is.

"It's a group. They made explosives, right?" You look to Dick.

"Yeah," Dick says quickly as he rushes over to the Batcomputer. "Batman and I shut them down for street dealing." Dick pulls up the building and it shows a 911 call had just come in a few minutes ago.

Everyone gathers around, listening to the call. The other Titans don't know it, but it's Jason who made the call. You recognize the way the modulator sounds with his voice and your stomach sinks. He's really targeting them. Why? It doesn't make any sense. You know there has to be some sort of reason, but it's a little bothersome anyway.

"It's a bogus call." Dick states as he starts walking off. "He's leading them into a trap."

"Call Barbara." Kory states.

"I don't think she's taking my calls."

"We have to stop those cops." Gar says quickly, following after Dick and Conner and Kory follow him.

"You coming?" Gar looks back at you with hope in his eyes.

"Uh...no." You shake your head. "Gonna stay behind but good luck and be careful." You nod your head as you watch the rest of the Titans take off out of the Batcave, likely to get Hank and Dawn. Gar offers a sad but understanding smile before he heads off, too.

You watch until they're completely out of the Batcave. Once you're certain, they're out of the Batcave, you take out the burner Jason gave you yesterday. You hit redial and wait as the line rings. They're coming for him and while you have no fucking idea what he's up to, and you know he likely knows they're coming. It's a setup again. You have to warn him anyway, just in case. You can't lose him again.

"The Titans are on their way." You state as Jason answers the phone.

He cackles on the other end. The drug courses through his veins but something about you betraying the Titans makes him laugh. Something about it is a bit amusing. He knew you wouldn't side with them.

"Thanks." He states but he sounds different.

"You're welcome." You state and you would love to pry and find out what is actually going on. The laugh was odd, to say the least.

"Didn't think you'd betray them." It's almost like he's taunting you. His voice is casual but has some sort of bite of mixed amusement and snark.

You shake your head, brows knitting together. "Well, I just want you to be prepared."

"I'm always prepared." Jason quips back.

You don't like the way he sounds. Something is off. You think back to the footage before he died, how he should have known the Joker was there. You think about the fidgeting yesterday and how desperate he looked. Today, it's like he's a different person on this call. It's something you'd say you don't like very much.

"Okay, Jay." You let out a soft sigh.

"You going?" Jason asks but he's digging. You say you're not working with them which means you should stay back. He hopes you stay back.

"No." You let out a scoff. "Not working with them, you're good. Don't fucking kill any of them, Jason."

"They should stay out of the way." Jason warns.

"Uh-huh, right." You roll your eyes. "I'm serious. Don't kill them." You shake your head. "Good luck though."

"Thanks." Jason lets out a breath. "Won't need it." Confidence radiates through the phone.

"I know." You huff. "Call me after so I know you're okay, please."

"I will." Jason promises. "Thanks for staying back."

"You're welcome. You owe me." You smile softly.

"All you gotta do is ask, babe."

He laughs on the other end. He knew he could trust you. And he still loves you through the haziness of the drug. He does still feel that part. It's not nearly as strong with the drug flowing through his veins but it's there. He doesn't want you there because of it. But, you can handle yourself and you're clearly still on the same team. You're on his side.

"Okay, Jay." You laugh softly. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Jason responds back before he hangs up.

A part of you actually doesn't want to know. The more you know, the worse it'll be with you not telling the Titans anything. At least if the only thing you know is that he's alive, that's all you know. That's not that bad. But, he's acting weird and that's the part that you do want an answer for. You're not sure how you're supposed to get it.

The Titans come back a few hours later, defeated. They did not get Red Hood, they just took down his men. You do your best to hide your relief. But, you intentionally avoid all of them until they're off into their separate rooms for the night. At that point, you find it safe to wind up in the kitchen for a small snack and to think.

You hop up on the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. You keep going over how Jason was yesterday, how he seemed mostly normal. You keep falling back on his working with someone. You want to believe Jason wouldn't work with someone bad but if he were working with someone who had good intentions, he would tell you. Time and time again, you have proven you can keep your word to Jason. He would tell you which then brings you to wondering why the hell he would work with someone who isn't good? And you go back to the drug because he avoided an answer to that question. You start to worry that maybe he is taking something and that's why he's doing this whole Red Hood thing but you've known addicts and none of them decided to be a crime lord overnight.

Your head starts to ache from going in circles as footsteps echo into the kitchen before coming to an abrupt halt at the sight of you. You look up, eyeing Dick with a raised brow.

"Oh, you're awake..." Dick states, looking behind him and then back to you.

"Yeah?" You question. "Do any of us sleep normally?" You quip. "What're you doing?" You raise a brow at him, noticing he looks like he's on some type of mission. The winter coat being a dead giveaway.

"Nothing." Dick rolls his shoulders.

"You know, that's how the conversation went with Jason when I went after Jerry? What're you doing? Nothing. What're you doing?" You narrow your eyes at him. "You look like you're...on a mission?"

Dick lets out a sigh. "It's nothing."

You nod once. "Heard you guys didn't get 'im tonight. Anything to do with that?" You're digging and Dick can tell. Maybe you know.

Dick figures you have to know. You've been acting almost normal all day long. That's weird. Jason was just brutally murdered and you found his body. You snapped on everyone and started killing people but now you're fine? Dick is almost positive you have to know. If Jason were going to tell someone, it would be you.

Dick closes the distance between you and lowers his voice. "Did you know?"

"Could you possibly get any more vague, Dickolas?" You quip as your heart sinks.

He can't know. How the hell would Dick know?

"Jason." His jaw is squared.

You swallow thickly. Jason told you you couldn't tell anyone. How the fuck did Dick figure it out? But, you're not just going to fold.

"Fucking know what, dude? Spit it the fuck out." You snap.

"Did you know he's alive?" Dick's voice is stern, a warning hint to it not to lie to him.

"W-what?" You ask shortly, digging to find out exactly what he knows.

"Don't bullshit me." Dick warns. "Did you know? I broke his helmet tonight, saw him, and I talked to him."

You hang your head as you scrunch your nose. "Yeah." You look up at him with apologetic eyes. "Yeah, I found out yesterday." You admit and if Dick knows, you don't have to keep it a secret. Jason did not say anything about that.

"Unbelievable." Dick backs away. "You knew and you didn't tell any of us?"

"He asked me not." You shake your head and Dick can see the guilt washing over your face. "I wanted to tell you guys. At least you and Gar but he asked me not to." You shrug softly. "I, uh, just been trying to figure out how the fuck he's real."

"You're not sure?" If anyone would know if Jason is really alive, it would be you.

"I-I don't know." You answer. "I mean...I mean yeah like...it has to be him but...resurrection is kind of insane. So...I don't know."

Dick hangs his head for a second and he feels bad for you. You're caught in the middle of the Titans and Jason. He gets why you didn't tell them even if he's pissed about it. But, you're over here trying to figure out if he's really alive just like Dick is. There is one way you can find out.

"Come on." Dick gestures for you to follow him as he heads for the door leading to the courtyard.

You put your bowl down quickly before hopping off of the counter and following Dick quickly.

The two of you start your walk through the courtyard and to a shed. Dick unlocks it and opens it while you stand outside in the dark, holding your phone for a flashlight. Dick hasn't said a single word on your walk and you're kind of afraid to say anything back. He is surely on a mission. At this point, you're thinking you've all lost your minds. Gotham is taking everyone's sanity.

"Here." Dick pops out a minute later holding two shovels and offering you one.

You take it slowly. "Why the fuck are you handing me a shovel?" You look down at it before you look back at Dick.

"Only one way to find out if it's really him." Dick's face is hard while yours falls.

"You want us to go dig up his fucking grave?! Have you lost your fucking mind?!" You yell.

The last thing you want to do is go digging into Jason's grave. First of all, that's just...that's wrong. That's supposed to be his resting place and you're going to disturb it. You've seen that horror movie a time or two and you do not want to be haunted. And you're thinking of the decomp process and what a body would look like after a week. You already saw him the night he died, you don't need to see him decomposing if Jason is actually still dead.

"How else are we going to know?" Dick asks.

"I-I don't know! But what if we're wrong? We'll be...that's....ya know? Like...he's buried there." You say with hesitance.

"You don't have to help if you don't want to. I just thought you'd want the same answer." Dick lets out a breath. "And if I'm gonna do this, I thought it'd be right if you knew."

"Since I caught you." You correct him.

"Yeah." Dick nods. "Do you have a better idea?"

"No." You huff. "Fine but this is fucking ridiculous."

"You're telling me." Dick scoffs as the two of you make your way to the family cemetery.

You still think it's weird Bruce has this on his property to begin with but in the grand scheme of grave robbing, you're pretty happy about it right about now. Even if digging up Jason's grave feels wrong.

The two of you start digging as lightning strikes from above you. You dig and dig in complete silence, almost worried about saying something into existence. On the one hand, you're worried he's dead and he's under you right now. You're going to disturb him and that's not right. But, on the other hand, what if he's alive? What if he really is? You need to know.

"All you." You let out a sigh, hopping out of the grave as you and Dick hit the casket.

Dick looks over to you and the two of you nod before Dick opens the casket.

It's empty.

"Fuck." Dick lets out a sigh.

"Fucking Gotham." You shake your head even if relief fills your chest.

Jason Todd is alive.

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A/n: I promise I'm going somewhere with Jason not knowing Bruce killed the Joker because of who I am as a person lol

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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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grippingbeskar · 1 year

Text

salt, ice and fire | frank castle

chapter twenty six - you bring me home

frank castle x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content minors dni! (car sex lmaooo, mxf nothing you haven’t seen before, its pretty sweet <3) swearing, canon typical violence, mention of scars, injuries, blood, literally packed everything into this chapter its a big one

a/n: wow. this was so rough oh my god. the entire first draft deleted itself and i had to re write the whole thing from memory, so i lost my planned chapter. i really hope i got everything in here, and im sorry for the wait AND how long it is lmao but i just. can’t believe i really finished it. ill rant at the end, but if you only read this part, i love you. thank you for letting me share the absolute vomit that is my brain. you are the best.

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“How was the drive?” Franks voice sends a shiver down your spine, even hundreds of miles away through a crappy phone line.

“Boring.” You sigh, pacing around the tiny motel room.

“You were meant to call an hour ago. Got me waitin’ up for you.” He sounds tired, and it makes your heart skip a beat. It’s stupid, but the image makes you a little giddy. Waiting up for you.

“There was… traffic.”

“You get lost?”

“Fuck you.” You bite automatically and he groans.

“So yeah?”

“Yes, Frank. I got lost.” He laughs, the sound managing to take your mind off the dark room you’d managed to secure for the night, the bedside light doing nothing to brighten the small space.

“I gave you a map. It’s a straight shot from where you started.” Rolling your eyes, you look at the map you’d now bundled into a ball and thrown into the trash.

“Who uses a printed map? Seriously, how fucking old are you?” It’s playful and familiar, and all the frustration of driving for 10 hours melts into the bed.

Being a key witness in a now ongoing case apparently didn’t come with any frequent flyer miles, because both Matt and Frank had said you couldn’t risk going through airport security and being flagged in a system, so it meant you had to drive nearly 18 hours to Florida. You thought you didn’t mind road trips, but after today you think it’s only road trips with Frank you don’t mind.

“Maps don’t change, baby. Besides, you’d drive yourself into a god damn tree the second that voice in the car told you you’d missed a turn.” You hate that he’s right— even the thought of that monotone voice droning in your ear for ten hours makes you cringe.

“Whatever. Tell me about something. You said you were going to speak to Madani today?” He’s the one sighing now, and clearly the talk was about as fun as your drive.

“She’s all over the place. Some mishandled evidence fucked their entire case, and Bobby’s lawyers were too well paid to let it go. Murdock said they’ll be able to find more— the appeal’s already been approved cause of how high profile it is, but he’s got no new evidence. He said he doesn’t know if they can get him.”

“That’s… what I expected, I guess.” Frank agrees, and your sudden silence only serves to bring the real issue to hand. “You know where he is?”

“Yeah. I got it covered.” The line goes quiet, and you don’t really know what to say.

On one hand, you want Bobby dead. You know can’t do it- it wasn’t smart, and the last thing you were going to do is drag everything Matt and Madani had worked for through the mud for someone like him, let alone put Sam in danger. Some fucked up part of you is a little mad that it won’t be you, but Frank has every reason to hate him as much as you. You know Frank wants this, and that telling him to stop is like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Your hesitation would only spur him to do it faster, be more impulsive. You don’t want to say anything to put him off.

On the other, you just want him with you. You worry like some love sick child, scared he’s walked out the door and isn’t coming back. You worry he’ll get caught, and end up in the exact spot he was trying to get you out of. You’re scared he’ll get hurt, or worse. Every time you close your eyes you can see him bleeding out, dark red staining your hands until you can scream yourself awake. There’s so many things that could go wrong, and ten hours staring over the hood of your car gives you way too much time to think about hypotheticals.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Frank says softly, and you flop yourself back on the single bed.

“Are you?” He huffs like the question is irrelevant.

“Madani asked about your dad today.” He ignores the question, and you’re too interested to poke him on it.

“Oh?”

“Asked what he knew about your time there. If he ever worked with the Gnucci’s.” A lump forms in your throat.

“You think she knows about the weird... blood stuff?”

“Don’t see why she would. Either way, it’s not gonna matter once he’s dead.” The bluntness of it almost makes you laugh. “He’ll be gone, and no one will come for it. Or you.”

“You don’t have to do this for me, Frank.”

“I’m not.” He pauses, and then sighs. “Alright, I am, but not just that. The shit he said to me in there— the things he said about you. The way he looked at you in there… I watched that shit, and there’s no way in hell that asshole does what he did and lives.”

“What if he was found guilty? Would you of left it alone?” Maybe if you’d been more helpful to Matt and Madani, it would of gone better, and Frank would be here.

“You want me to answer that?” A part of you knew he wasn’t going to let it go. That wasn’t who he was. It shouldn’t make you feel the way it does to know that Frank would kill for you— just to make you safe. It does anyway, and heat flushes over your face.

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He agrees, a low sound rumbling from his end of the phone. “I spent most of the day wishing you were with me, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Turns out I fucking hate driving.” He laughs again, and if you could listen to the sound all night you think you’d sleep peacefully.

“You remember how mad you were that first time I didn’t let you drive?” Shaking your head, you flick off the lights slide under the covers.

“I was mad because you had a concussion and tried to fucking kill us.”

“Least I was gonna go the right way.”

“You tried switching drivers on the freeway, Castle.”

“Alright, I was a a bit out of it.” He says plainly and you smile so wide it hurts your cheeks. “Wished you were here, too.”

“I bet you did.” He groans, and you hear him shift on the bed. Your bed.

“Too much space in here. Didn’t even know we had this much blanket.” He makes a real noisy show of it, tossing around the blankets you usually roll yourself up in. It’s meant to be a light hearted thing, but for some reason the idea of Frank spread out on your shared bed, one that you’ve both used extensively— it makes your heart race.

“Dickhead.” He groans again, shuffling around some more. “This one’s too small. Probably have to sleep on top of each other if you were here.”

“M’alright with that.”

“Not a lot of room to move, though.” You look around at the room, hardly enough space to stand in the corner.

“We’d figure something out.” You let your eyes flutter closed, humming high pitched at the idea. “What are you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?”

“You.” You admit, and he seems to like it.

“Me too. Haven’t gone a night in this apartment without fuckin’ you in this bed. Drivin’ me crazy.” You hum again, pressing your thighs together to try and dissipate the heat that’s suddenly overtaken your whole body. “You thinkin’ about it now too, aren’t you baby?”

“Yeah, Frank.”

“Don’t say my name like that.” He growls, and you bite your lip to hide your laugh.

“Why not, Frank?” You practically purr the word, drawing it out and saying it all breathy like you do when he’s teasing you.

“Cause you’re gonna make me drive ten hours just to fuck you in whatever dirty motel you pulled off into.” You’re still smiling, but you think if you keep messing with him, he’d do it. He’d drive ten hours, a hundred of them if it meant teaching you a lesson. Or just being with you. “I’ll see you soon. Real soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, knowing if you keep talking to him your entire plan will crumble in front of you, because you’re half considering driving home just to sleep next to him. “Soon. Be safe, okay?”

The words tumble out, and you try to hide the guilt you feel when you say them. He was only not safe because of you— because you couldn’t finish the job yourself. You’re glad he can’t see your face, because you hear him mumble on the other end and your eyes close listening to him.

“Always. Tell the kid I said hi.” With that, Frank hangs up the phone, and you slide it onto the table right next to the pistol you keep loaded and ready to fire.

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Frank pulls the saturated beanie over his head, and it’s probably doing more harm than good at this point, but he doesn’t have a second to really give a shit. His eye-line is perfect— directed straight into the penthouse apartment Bobby Gnucci was driven to three hours ago. He’s been tucked away in the corner of the rooftop for just as long, watching the man pace and yell on the phone.

It had taken him a few goes to get the right frequency to listen in on the calls he was making, but once he had he took as much information done as he could. He’d had enough of watching, and now he was satisfied with the phones calls he’d listened to that the man was alone for the night; not counting his extensive security team layered through the apartment block. Frank felt the familiar hum in his veins, shoving his loaded pistol in his jeans and swinging the strap of a rifle over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs, across the street and slipped into the back of the building.

There’d be witnesses if he didn’t take the right route, and to make this work he needed every chance at an alibi he could get. He was so used to not caring— every time he’d gone into something like this, he didn’t have something to get back to. He had no preservation, no concern for what came after. Hell, if he was honest, he didn’t care if he went out doing something like this. He would of preferred it, maybe even hoped he’d die somewhere in the cross fire.

Even just talking to you on the phone had him itching to get back to you now. He wanted to be careful— something he never really thought of before. A heavy ache in his stomach that twisted something violent when he thought about not getting home, not making good on his promise from a few hours ago, it made him sick. He planned as much as he could, as much as he was capable of, and hoped to God it was enough.

Frank hid his body behind the corner of the wall. He hid his face, too, even though he’d already had Micro’s help shutting out the cameras. He knew it would set off alarms for the security team, but he planned for that. They’d spread out, follow orders that he’d listened to over the radio, three men on all the entries and exits, and then ten through the penthouse. If he timed it right, he could clear the first few levels before the guards arrived.

He didn’t care about making noise now— slamming his way up the fire access while Gnucci’s men no doubt got into position. He’d just past a number 6, and Bobby was on the top floor. 23. He kept going, not hearing any doors open. When he passed 9, the door on the level below him cracked open and he jammed through the next exit he reached, getting into position.

He could hear voices coming from his right, and steadied himself as he turned the safety off his gun. He had a small army of men to get through, but he knew if he could make it, landing the hit on Bobby would be easy.

He wasn’t nervous. Pure adrenaline flooded him, like it always did, and he didn’t think twice before standing out of cover and pulling the trigger.

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“How have you grown so much?!” You nearly shout, hugging Sam tighter as he all but latches onto your leg. “God, you’re gonna be my height soon.”

“I missed you!” He says, words muffled in your jacket. You don’t even have to bend really, he’s that tall. It is even possible for him to grow that much in just a month? “Come! I want to show you my stuff. Me and Niko share a room, and it’s the coolest thing…”

You let him drag you around the house, showing you the bunk beds that are set up for him and Nikolai. He shows you books he’s brought home from school, and it makes you smile how chaotic his room is. There’s piles of books and papers everywhere, stuffed under the bed and nearly toppling on the tables. It looks like it’s lived in… like a home, and your heart warms and breaks all at once.

When he finally finishes his impromptu tour, he pulls you outside where the rest of the family has set themselves up, and runs out into the giant back yard to chase after Nikolai. You hardly had a chance to say hello to them, but if you were honest you hadn’t thought of anything but Sam since you saw him.

“Did he show you the bunk beds?” The doctor— Zaed, you remind yourself, comes up behind you on the deck. “He hasn’t stopped talking about showing you.”

“I thought he was gonna explode.” Zaed laughs, and you turn to look at him. He’s still sporting a scar across his forehead, and it somehow makes his older features look slightly hardened. His face was still soft, something about him gesturing kindness, an observation you never made in the months you were locked away. “He told me you made them.”

“It took me weeks. I am not very… handy.” Smiling, you turn back to watch Sam and Nikolai screaming and laughing as they chase each other with Nerf guns. “I am sorry for what happened with the case.”

“So am I. If he’d gone away, you wouldn’t have to stay in Witness Protection.” He nods, turning away for a second only to return and offer you a can of something. “What is it?”

“It’s Russian. You’ll like it— it’s strong.” You crack it open and take a long drink, hoping to drown the rising anxiety that kneads the back of your mind at the thought of what Frank was doing right now. “We don’t mind it so much here.”

“Florida?” He nods.

“We want to stay. Corinne thinks the children— with what they’ve been through, shouldn’t move too much. They seem happy here.” You hum in agreement, listening to the light squeals of the youngest girl, who’s name you haven’t learnt yet, who’s got the biggest Nerf gun of all and is shooting the shit out of both boys. “It was my idea. To offer to take him in. If you are upset, please lay the blame with me—“

“Upset? God, why would I ever be upset?” He blinks in surprise, looking to you.

“You are here with him, and yet you still seem far away. I figured the suggestion was weighing on you. We only offer because… well, we have all grown quite fond of him, and for you— to you we owe our lives. I thought if we could make any of this easier…” You shake your head, finishing the bitter liquid in the can.

“You looking after Sam is about one of two good things I have going right now.” Zaed seems to relax, leaning forward onto the railing as you both stare out to watch the kids. “I think he’s happy here.”

“He is. He misses you, but he is happy.”

“And safe.”

“Of course. I pity anyone who would try to get past Corinne now.” You laugh at the tinge of genuine anxiety in his voice, as if he imagines it, but his eyes are full of admiration.

“I want to talk to him about it… make sure he’s okay, but if he wants to, I think him staying here would be the best thing for him.” Zaed doesn’t answer right away, just lets the echoed laughter of the kids fill both of your ears before he nods simply.

“He will be safe. And I am sure you will learn to love Florida, too, with how much you will visit?”

“What?” Again, a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Sam did not show you the spare room? We have cleared a space for you— whenever you need it. You… it is the least I could do. You saved my life—“

“Hardly.”

“I owe you it. My families life. My own. Whatever you should need here, the door would be open to you.” You have to look away, because it’s too much, and you don’t know when you became so soft that shit like this made you tear up.

“You don’t owe me anything. You keeping Sam safe is everything I ever wanted. I think we’re even now.” You laugh, your throat suddenly feeling a little tight.

“I couldn’t help but notice you arrived alone.” He questions, and you hide your face, unsure if the way you chew on your bottom lip gives too much away.

“Yeah.” No amount of alcohol could drown out the thought of Frank. You hadn’t heard from him in a day. Zaed looks at you, his eyes crinkling as he assess you.

“I thought he was going to drown with you that night. When he saw you go into the water… I recognise that look in a man’s eyes.” It seems so long ago now, and your hand instinctively goes to your stomach, where Frank sewed you up the first time. “He is coming soon, I assume? I doubt he would let you get too far from him right now.”

“Yeah, he’s…” You trust Zaed— but there’s only one person who takes precedent over the people taking care of your brother. “He’s just finishing up some stuff with the case in New York. He should be on his way now.”

“Ah.” He says, his eyes lingering on you in question. You say nothing, just sink a little more of the can. “Well, when he kills the ублюдок, I hope he makes it last.”

Before you can recover and wipe the shock off your face long enough to ask him how the hell he guessed what Frank is doing, Sam and Nikolai are in front of you, and Zaed disappears back into the house.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Frank grunts, a loud nearly animalistic sound vibrating off the walls as he clears the 23rd floor. Every time he breathes out, blood sprays out of his mouth. He can’t tell if it’s his own or he’s just covered in so much that it’s dripping off him. Either way he can’t help it, chest burning for oxygen after he laid the lower floors to absolute waste.

He’d ditched the assault rifle somewhere between the 18th and 19th floors, not even bothering to pull out his pistol. No— he’d fought every single one of them with his bare hands, and anything he could find scattered between dead bodies.

His right hand was fucked, and he’s pretty sure he got shot. Somewhere on the right side of his body, there’s a shooting pain between his thigh and his ribs, but it’s not enough to slow him down. He shoves his body weight into the penthouse door, throwing himself into guards he knows are ready and waiting for him. He reaches for his pistol, shooting three guys in the head before his eyes adjust to the dimmer lights in the room.

He hears them shouting orders, and he kills three more as he crosses the living room. One of them he puts through the TV screen, glass shattering under his hand as he crushes the man’s skull between the hard surface. The other two he shoots, and then moves towards the last four. All of them shield the door to the bedroom— putting their lives on the line for a man who doesn’t deserve the air he’s wasting.

Frank doesn’t have a moral compass when it comes to revenge. Not when it has to do with the people he loves. It’s why he clears the round of bullets in his gun on all four of them in less than thirty seconds, watching the lifeless bodies pile up in the doorway, there isn’t a single moment that he hesitates.

“Bobby!” Frank shouts, his voice horse and so loud he’s got no doubt the dead hear it.

He hears shuffling, and drops the pistol before stomping his way through into the bedroom. He sees Bobby, crawling across the floor in an attempt to reach for a gun dropped by one of the guards, but just as he goes to reach for it, Frank slams a bloody boot down on top of his hand, feeling the crush of bone under his weight.

“Fuck!” He shouts, and Frank smiles sickly, blood dripping from his teeth. “Get the fuck off me, you animal!”

Frank kicks him in the face, two of his teeth flying out and scattering across the carpet. As he rolls over, Frank grabs him by the collar and sits him up, watching his head lull to the side.

“Wake up.” Frank slams his fist into his skull. There was no way he was passing out this fast. Not after what he’s done. “Wake the fuck up.”

His hands shake with how hard he’s holding Bobby upright. So hard he feels the bone of his collar begin to give, and Frank chases the idea. Bobby thrashes, screaming as his eyes shoot open, the sound kicking Frank back into gear. He lets go of his shoulder long enough to pull back, only to drive his fist and crack the rest of his shoulder.

“Help m—“ Bobby tries to shout, but Frank shuts him off with another well placed shove of his weight into Bobby’s stomach, winding him. He wheezes, the pathetic sound something like music to Franks ears.

He punches him again— over and over. Not enough to kill him, though. No, Frank wasn’t done, he was just feeding the thrill. He’d been waiting too fucking long for this, and there was something satisfying about seeing this man— this weak excuse for a man being blinded by his own blood as he cries for someone to help him.

“Ain’t no one comin’ for you.” He growls, and grabs Bobby’s face so it hangs straight. His jaw is slack, but his eyes go wide when he feels the blade at his ribs. “You know that? That there ain’t a single person out there comin’ for you. No one gives a shit about you. You’re alone in here— your life in my hands.”

“Haaa—“ Bobby tries but whatever it is fades out into a scream when Frank slides the blade between his third and fourth rib. Slowly— real fucking slow. “They… they’ll come. Th-They’ll come f-for me.”

“No one’s comin’. Dead. All of ‘em. You’re alone.” He slides it a little deeper, watching the realisation wash over his face.

In truth, Frank wasn’t doing this for him. Sure, it felt fucking good, and Frank was enjoying the sight of the life draining out of his eyes, but he wants him to know why. Why he’s here, why he took out every last man in this building so he knew there was no hope. No one for him to go to.

He knew that’s what it was like for you. Frank couldn’t give you back those years, and he couldn’t take that much time with this— he’d thought about it, but he wanted this to end here and now. He could do this here, for you. Could make him know just how it feels to have all that power beat out of you, and know that there’s no one out there coming to save you.

“Stop…stop!” He wails, and Frank hits him harder. Every crack of his fist sends Bobby further into unconsciousness, and when he manages to stop himself, he shakes him awake again.

He gurgles on his own blood, dark red pools choking out of his mouth. His face is unrecognisable, already starting to blow up as he strangles in a few short breaths.

“I can… I have money. I can p—“ The effort of the words sprays another load of blood out of his mouth, and even though he’s exhausted, Frank laughs.

“You think I want money?” He leans down, yanking the knife out of his ribs and shoving it in again.

“Fuck! What do you—what do you want?!” Bobby wails again. Frank smiles.

“I want you to know that she’s the reason you’re dead. The last thing you’ll know is me— my face, and you’ll know it’s because you ended up just like you made her. Except she got out, and you never will.” Frank loses sense of time, his injuries starting to catch up with him as he yanks the knife out one more time, before slamming it home into Bobby’s skull.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m watching!” You shout as Sam lines up again, taking a few steps back before rushing forward and kicking the ball towards their make shift goal in the yard. You have to admit, for only been playing a few weeks, he’s got a hell of a kick on him.

“See! I’m getting better— my coach says next year I can try out for the first grade team if I keep training!” He’s smiling so big, and then he’s gone again, picking up the ball to take another shot at Nikolai who’s got goalkeeper gloves on, ready to catch it.

You’d be happy to watch this all day, but then Corinne calls out to you, telling you your phone is ringing, and you all but leap over the railing of the deck. When you race inside, you expect to see Franks name, and your heart sinks when you don’t. You knew he wouldn’t be able to call until it was over, but it’s been nearly two days since you’d heard anything. Then, you see it’s an unknown number calling, and your hands are shaking when you disappear into what is meant to be ‘your’ room to answer.

“Hello?” You recognise the voice instantly when she says your name. “Fucking hell, Karen. You scared me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but are you?!” She nearly shouts, and you are still coming back to your mind with relief it wasn’t someone telling you Frank was dead. “I don’t even know how you did it, but I don’t want to. The way they found him… Jesus.”

“Wait. What? Karen, I’m in Florida.”

“What?”

“I’m with my brother in Florida. I came up here two days ago after the trial.” She goes quiet, and you can hear the commotion in the background. Remembering it’s a Tuesday, and that she must be at work, it only furthers your suspicions. “Who’s dead?”

“Bobby is. They found him. They found his body— but…”

“Karen, tell me.” All you need to hear is Frank wasn’t found. That he got out of there before anyone saw him. It would be your fault— all of it would be your fault if he was found. You needed to get back, you needed—

“Sorry. Sorry, I just thought… with everything that happened before, I thought it might of been you. Bobby’s dead, but… there’s nearly 50 men in the building with him. They’re all dead. And Bobby; he was hardly recognisable. It took them nearly 24 hours to identify him.”

“24 hours?” Frank needed to get out of New York as soon as he killed Bobby. If the police had been crawling around there for nearly a day… “Karen, I gotta go. Thank you for calling.”

You cut it off before she responds, and call the only number saved in your phone. It only rings twice before he answers, and you could nearly cry when you hear his voice.

“Stop fuckin’ ringin’ me, Murdock. I don’t know shit and I’m busy.” He grumbles through the phone, and you choke out something between a laugh and a sob. “Oh, fuck. Sorry— hey, sweetheart. Was just about to call you.”

“It’s… did the— job go okay?” You try to calm your voice as best you can, knowing that if anyone traces the call he’s done for.

“It took me longer than I thought. Had to get stitched up, then Curtis drove me halfway— passed out for most of it.” Before you can ask, he answers. “I’m fine, don’t do that.”

“You’re okay?” Relief floods your body, phone nearly slipping out of your hand with how hard you were gripping it. “Everything’s… everything’s okay?”

“Come see for yourself. I’m pulling up.” Like a kid on Christmas, you toss the phone and basically sprint to the front door, hearing an unfamiliar truck rumble down the isolated street.

He’s driving, clearly having ditched Curtis, but when he gets out he’s got a limp, and his hand is bandaged. You don’t run, instead you stand in the driveway and soak up the image— Frank; leaning against the door of the truck, sunglasses covering up what you have no doubt are black eyes. Alive. Favouring his left side and still with dried blood on his head, but fucking here.

“You’re hurt.” You say it when you finally reach him, but it sounds pathetic, closer to the tone you’d whimper his name in.

“Don’t worry about it.” He says huskily and reaches out, yanking you forward and slamming his mouth to yours.

The soft touch of his bandaged hand is opposite to the greedy grasp of his free one, the one wrapping around your back and fisting the material of your shirt, pressing so you were flush against him. Both of your hands cup his face, feeling the rough surface of his skin. You lose yourself in the taste of him as your fingers trace the patterns of scars peppering around his head— a constellation you’ve memorised a million times over, and yet it still feels as illuminating as the first.

He groans your name, sliding his hand up to grip your jaw, thumb tugging on your bottom lip. You lean back slightly, staying at close to him as possible. His eyes look you up and down, and there’s a glint in his eye; a hunger that never seems to be satiated when he looks at you. He’s still feverish for it, and it makes your toes curl in your shoes.

“Fuckin’ missed you.” He mumbles against your lips, and it makes you smile against his.

“I can tell.” His other hand forgets it’s injury as he searches your body, gripping your hips and pressing you closer.

“Get Sam. Let’s go home.” He tucks his head lower, mouth kissing under your jaw, and as much as you do want to get the fuck out of here with him, you pull away.

“He’s… he’s staying here.” Frank pushes the sunglasses off his face, looking at you through what is actually only one bruised eye.

“Staying?” You nod. “You sure?”

“I talked to him about it. He fucking loves it here, Frank. He didn’t want me to go again, but you should of seen him with them. They treat him like their own, and he adores them. It’s so much better than anything I could of thought.” Frank wraps his arms around your back and hugs you right, and your eyes flutter closed. “And you can’t just leave. They’re expecting you to come in and say hi.”

“Why?” The way he says it makes you laugh, as if you’d just asked him to drink gasoline.

“Come on.” You tug him by the wrists, and even though he groans and leans on you up the driveway, you both stagger inside and follow the sounds of Sam’s laughter, leaving everything else behind.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“They were being nice.” You haven’t wiped the smile off your face since you slid into the passenger seat this morning. “Well, I slept great. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.”

“Mhmm.” Frank grumbles, clearing having a much worse sleep than you did.

It was sweet, and truely, you wanted to take them up on it. When Frank dragged himself through the front door of where Sam had been staying, everyone had nearly jumped on him. Sam couldn’t contain himself, clearly trying to play it cool but simultaneously thinking Frank was the coolest person he’d ever met. It was sweet, the way Frank was with the kids, the sight making you both smile and want to cry.

Either way, when Corinne and Zaed had offered for you both to stay the night, Frank agreed and all but dragged you down the hallway after dinner. The spare room was nice— set up clearly for two people, and you were only human.

It would have been perfect— had the room not been sharing a wall with your brother and his new best friend. A very fucking thin wall. One that was nearly vibrating with how loud they screamed every five minutes playing some game on the TV. The louder they were, the more it became apparent that neither of you would be getting a lot of sleep, and not in the good way.

Having Frank that close all night but not being able to do anything about it reminded you of the start of this whole thing. How you shared a bed with him but had to force yourself to keep your hands to yourself. It was borderline painful, but eventually you managed to drift off to sleep, not missing how hard Franks hands were gripping your hips like he had to physically cement himself to stop from fucking you through the bed.

When you woke up, Frank had all your shit shoved in the car, and was outside cooking pancakes with Sam. You took your time saying goodbye— making sure to thank both Corinne and Zaed properly, and then promising you’ll be back. Soon. ‘So soon you won’t even have time to miss me’ you’d promised Sam, and he grinned and hugged you before disappearing to get ready for school.

“Where are we going, anyway?” Frank looked to you before shifting in his seat, one of his hands resting on your thigh and squeezing.

“Got a stop to make before getting back to New York.” You’d been driving for a while now— about half way between New York and where you’d left Sam. You turned in your seat, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t be cryptic.” You try to sound assertive, but you can’t seem to hold any resentment when you could feel the warmth of him palm on your thigh.

“It’s close, alright? Promise.” The words eased something in your chest, the same way his smile did when he looked at you.

A small silence drifted between you as a Billy Joel song hummed softly on the radio, and your head dropped, eyes tracing over the bruises left on his knuckles. Your fingers dance around them, careful to keep your touches light. You follow the lines of black and blue up over his wrist, watching them disappear under the arm of his jumper. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and when you push up the sleeve just slightly, you swear loudly.

“Fucking hell! Is this broken?” You pull the sleeve up higher, and you tighten your grip on his wrist when he goes to pull away. If you hadn’t watched him so closely, you would of missed the way he winced, and you let go immediately. “Sorry. Sorry— fuck, Frank. Is this all from—“

“I’m fine. Just a couple scratches.” He says, keeping his blackened eyes trained on the road. It would of been easy to miss— not seeing him without clothes since he’d come back. Bile rises in your throat at the thought he was hurt because of you— because he was doing this for you. Suffering for you. Like he has the entire time.

“Are you lying?” He shakes his head, and you lightly poke him in the side. He hissed loudly, flinching away from you and swerving the car. “Pull over.”

“I’m not pulling over.” Frank groans.

“You’ve been driving for hours, just—“

“It’s fine. We only got a few more miles till—“

“Please.” There must have been something in your voice, some kind of soft vulnerability that even he isn’t used to hearing, and then the car is pulling off the side of an empty highway, dusk rolling over the hood of the truck.

You reach out, pulling the sunglasses off his face to reveal him slowly. This part you’ve seen, but it still knocks the wind out of you. The cut along his cheekbone, not deep enough to need stitches but you know it will scar over. His right eye is a deep purple, the left nearly green. You go to draw your fingers over his face, but hesitate, worried you’ll hurt him. He sees you pulling back and catches your wrist, placing your palm between his cheek and his own hand.

“Don’t do that.” You choke out a laugh, smoothing your hand over and back into his slightly longer hair, pulling him closer over the console of the car.

“I’m not doing anything.” You say softly, something guilty in your voice. When he hears it, he shakes his head at you.

“Can read you like a book. You got nothin’ to do with this, alright?”

“I have nothing to do with it?” You want to laugh. “I’m the reason you were there. The reason all this happened.”

“I would of been in the same place with or without you. This part?” He gestures to himself, his torso that you know all too well is littered with scars. “This isn’t a part you blame yourself for.”

“But it is. My fault.” He opens his mouth but you talk first. “All of this… watching those kids today, watching Sam— all I ever did was put him in danger. And you. It’s better for him to be there, away from all this. Away from me. Maybe now all this is over, it would be better…safer, if you—“

“Stop. I don’t wanna hear that shit. You know how selfish you sound?” You blink a few times, eyes meeting his. At some point he’s leaned even closer, and you can feel the heat of his body thawing you out. “You’re right— I wouldn’t of gone back to New York the past two days if it wasn’t for you. You know why?”

“Listen—“

“No. I wouldn’t of gone back because I would of killed that asshole six months ago and been home in time for dinner. I’ve been doin’ this a long time, and there’s nothin’ you could of done that would of changed how this ended.” He holds your face up to his, rough hands holding you as gently as they could, and his thumb traces the scar just above your eyebrow. “Sam is safe with them, but don’t think for one fuckin’ second he’s better off without you. God knows I’m not. You’ve done nothin’ but good for that kid, and I’d… fucking hell. I’d be dead without you, you know that?”

“No you wouldn’t.” Your voice was so soft it hardly broke the silence, but he leaned in, his forehead pressing to yours. “You could probably jump out of a building and walk it off.”

“Maybe. But now I gotta be careful nd’ come home to you, don’t I?” He smiles, and then kisses you and you forget where you are. Words die on your tongue and are replaced by the taste of him, mind freezing over when he touches you. He does it every time. Every time he manages to take your breath away with one whisper of your name, one swipe of his thumb over your mouth. It’s intoxicating and dependant, something you never thought you’d want, but it feels so good with him. His hands drop to your waist, their pull demanding and needy as he yanks you up and over the centre console and onto his lap.

“I’d do it again. All of it. Kill every single—“ You kiss him again, squeezing your eyes shut, and he groans as you shift on his lap. “Fuck, baby we should wait till…”

“Till when?” You say breathlessly, and despite his words his hands are already sneaking underneath your shirt, his cool hands meeting your feverish skin. You can hardly keep your eyes open, and your hips roll forward again, seeking him out. “I want you now, Frank.”

“Fuck it. Doesn’t matter.” He says and then crashes into you, your back nearly pressing against the dash with how quick he moves. Your gasp of surprise is lost in his mouth, and you can feel the sparks he makes in your chest crackling their way through you, toes curling in your shoes.

Your half bent backwards, legs in either side of his as he keeps your chest pressed to him, both arms wrapping around you to hold you steady. You tug at his shirt helplessly, getting it stuck around his arm and he smiles against your mouth, leaning back to look at you before whipping it over his head.

In the dark of the room last night you wouldn’t of seen it, but now the lights streaming in from the car window, and Franks torso is nearly a rainbow in it— blue, purple and green bruises all up his side, with a short but deep cut on the low right side of his abdomen. He’s taken the bandage off it too early, the stitches still healing, but you can tell it’s expert work. Much better than the botched job you did a month or so back, something he still bares the reminders for.

“Just… just a couple scratches, huh?” He grunts something illegible and hauls you back to him.

“Shut up.” He keeps you pressed close, not giving you a chance to say something back, but then his hands dip lower and you’re a goner.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeah. Fuck waiting.

He’s got you here— now, on top of him, and he can’t even fucking think of anything else. Your hands are being so gentle and cautious when he really couldn’t care less about the pain, but you do. You always do.

He wasn’t gonna waste another second, and seeing your eyes close the second he got your pants off and dipped his hands between your legs… it’s pretty much as close to heaven as he was going to get.

You fall forward, Frank catching you with one arm and pulling you close while the other continues slow, teasing circles just how he knows gets you all worked up. Your head tucks away into his neck, and he lets you hide for now, but when he’s got you home— real home, then he’ll be able to look at you as much as he god damn wants.

Your hips move against him, chasing his slow rhythm, and he feels your teeth scrape agains this neck, wordlessly rushing him along.

“You need me that bad?” He says lowly, and watches in awe the way his words wash over you and yank you closer to the edge. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t of left you so needy—“

“Fuckkk… right there—please.” Your voice was so high it cracks a little, and it fucking sets him on fire.

“Get my belt for me, baby.” He whispers, feigning a bit of self control as he watches you quickly fumble with the buckle. The slight brush of your hands could finish him then and there, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to try and remember why he wanted to wait. He had just one more card to play— one that you’d seen him play a few times before, but he doesn’t think you expect it this time, and he needed some semblance of composure to remember it.

A real house, white picket fence and all, smack bang on halfway between New York and Florida. He couldn’t leave New York, not ever, but he had a new anchor now, one that deserved to have it all.

Frank planned to take you straight home. Make a ten hour drive and keep his hands to himself, but how the fuck could he when you were like this? Looking like you do, touching him so fucking sweet and soft and saying how much you missed every part of him— it was a dream come to life, and one of the few moments he’d let himself go in.

You shuffle as close as the seat allows, your now naked chest pressing against his. He dips his head, kissing your jaw, and he’s suddenly surrounded by you. Arms around his neck, warm and soft as your fingers thread in his hair, both of you moan at the feeling of him sliding into you. It’s white hot and nearly painful, how even with the way you’re dripping down your thighs, it still takes you a second to take him all the way. You wriggle your hips, trying to settle yourself and Frank nips at your neck, slowing your pace just slightly. He can hear you sigh, but you listen. You always fucking do.

“Shit— so fucking good. You can take it.” He hums and runs his hands over your skin. You lean into the touch, and when you sigh again he sinks your hips lower, a short punch of your name bursting from his chest when you slam yourself down. “Fuck. There you go.”

He’s a wreck underneath you, and your hands slither away from his hair to his face when you pull him up to kiss you. As much as he loves the feeling of your hips grinding down ever so slightly right now, it’s this part he loves the most. The slow intimacy of it— how he knows he can stay right here for the rest of the day and nothing will change. He can feel how much you love it, how much care you handle him with, and it cracks something old and hard in his gut.

You shudder as he lifts his hips, keeping your mouths together and kissing hungrily. He’d think you’d both been starved for a year the way you two act, but he’d admit it to anyone that asked that he was gone for you. He knows it well and true, in his chest and in the way you bounce in his lap, moaning into his mouth like he’s breathing air into your burning lungs.

“Fuck— fuck, I love you. I fucking… Jesus Christ, you’re so good. I love you.” He can’t shut himself up, and your breath gets faster. He knows you love it when he talks. “C’mon, baby. Let me see you— wanna feel you. I know you want to.”

“Slow… Frank, you’re gonna hurt yourself—“ You suck in a breath and squeeze your eyes shut. His hands stay tight on your hips, and he feels the pleasure buzz under his palms, your skin nearly alight with it on top of him. “Oh my god, don’t stop.”

He wraps his forearm around you and fucks you harder, any pain and injury burnt out by how tight you are around him, and how perfect you fit him. He’s close, so close that he’s hardly able to kiss you now. You both collide in a mess of tongues and sighs, and when he hears you croak out his name into his mouth, he knows you’re cumming for him.

He can’t hold himself back, chasing you into that high with blinding abandon. It hits him like a freight train, bowing him over you like he’s taken a hit, but it feels so good he can’t register that he isn’t breathing like this. He keeps kissing you until he’s sure he’s going to pass out, and only stops when you pull away, eyes darting to the highway where headlights slowly flicker on the horizon.

“Shit.” You say breathless, and you laugh. He can feel it, the sound shuddering through him from where he was still deep inside you, and your giggles soon turned to something less innocent when you heard Frank groan into your chest. “C’mon. Someone’ll see us.”

“Don’t move yet.” He puts his hands on your waist, fanning them out to reach as much of you as possible.

“Mhmm.” It’s like your body gives out at his request, slumping forward and moulding into him like you were made to fit this way. This was what he was talking about. The way you fit together— something that should be out of the question for him fits so right. “I love you, too.”

“Mhmm.” He copies and feels you smile against his skin. His hands trail up your spine, tracing the line of bones lightly to leave goosebumps in his wake. “What time is it?”

“Who gives a fuck?” You mumble, the words half muffled into his neck.

“I want you to see the house in the light, but you wanna go at it blind, be my guest.” It takes you a second, a scoff coming out of you before you sit up abruptly, making him groan again.

“House? What house? Another safe house.” Frank couldn’t keep a secret to save his life when it came to you.

“It’s a house. Twenty minute drive from here.”

“But New Yorks not—“

“I know. Good thing we got cars, yeah?” Your eyebrows are crossed together, and Franks thumb slips over the small scar he left on your face. The movement shifts your gaze to something softer, and he feels the brush of your eyelashes on his finger as you blink up at him.

“You did it on purpose. It’s right in the middle.” You say softly. “Jesus, Frank. You didn’t have to… I mean you—“

“Take a breath. I didn’t buy it. Was a gift from the US Goverment. One thing those guys are good for is their money. I just picked the spot.” He could nearly hear the rave of your heart, and you crushed yourself into him, words hushed and mumbled into his ear, but they melt him to the core all the same.

He’ll never get over hearing you say things like this to him. That you’re grateful for him, that he’s doing a good thing. It’s like nothing he did before you was ever good enough. There was always the next job, always the next group to track, but nothing would be enough. There wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel for him. But here you were, telling him that he was the reason you were gonna be alright, and if he squints he can see it. The flicker of something hopeful, and if he holds onto you as tight as he can, he might just live to see it light him on fire.

“Did you say… you said twenty minutes from here. Why didn’t we just wait until—“

“Would’ve ruined the surprise.” You laugh again, and the feeling has him gripping you tighter. He leans closer to whisper in your ear, his voice low. “And I wanted to fuck you here and now. Don’t want there to be a single fuckin’ surface where I ain’t had you.”

“Better get driving then, Castle. Sounds like you got a job to do.” The glint in your eye nearly makes him drag you outside and bend you over the hood, but the kiss you give him after is sickeningly sweet, so much so that he lets you slide off him and back into the passenger seat without so much as a nip of his teeth. “Tha–”

“Wait. Wait til you see it.” Frank said, and something about the way he looked at you had you nodding simply, and watching the trees race by as he sped you home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were asleep on the balcony again, and Frank moved as slow as he could to let you stay that way.

In the two weeks you’d been here, he could count on one hand how many times you’d actually slept in the bed. There were no neighbours for miles, nothing interrupting the stretch of sky all the way to the hills. Even Frank had to admit it was a killer view.

He came inside, pouring himself a drink, and a strange pit in his stomach settled after the burning liquid soothed his throat. He can’t seem to kick that feeling when you’re asleep. When you were awake, next to him, there wasn’t anything else he could think about. But alone, walking around a house he owned, a life he might try and live staring him in the face, he felt guilty. There were parts of him he wouldn’t ever get back, but this wasn’t something he thought he’d ever have. Peace and quiet, time to himself. A woman he loved within eyesight, buried under blankets cause she was too stubborn to come inside when it got freezing. He couldn’t figure out why now, of all times, was the time to be thinking of Maria. The weight of the ring around his neck was like an anchor. He knew it was stuck on the bottom of the ocean, but he couldn’t find it in himself to let go. He would sit there, hand cut up and bleeding, holding on for dear fucking life if no one moved him, waiting until he drowned.

Your footsteps were soft, in a way that he knows you can’t help. You tread through the open double doors, and Frank would roll his eyes at the way he could hear your teeth chattering if he wasn’t so distracted.

“You should of woke me.” You say, voice muffled from the mess your head was buried under. He took a step toward you, pushing it back so he could see your eyes.

“It’s late.”

“Couldn’t tell.” He can hear the smirk in your voice.

“You finally frozen to death, smart-ass?” You grumble something in reply, and he catches a few curse words before you look at him again. It’s nearly scary, the way you can read him with one sweep of your eyes. You clock his tone, the way he isn’t leaning into you with his full weight, and squint your eyes.

“What is it?” Frank sucks in a long breath, and kisses you.

He’s a complete idiot. That’s what it is. He can feel the buzzing pulse you wake in him, every movement of your lips on his rooting you deeper in his soul, chipping off ice until theres only warmth. How’s he supposed to tell you, after you’ve just kissed him like that, that he was thinking about his–

“You can talk to me about her, Frank.” You say with your head against his. Not it, her. Before he can ask, you smile a little. Even just a hint of that smile and he’s forgetting how to breathe. “You play with the ring when you’re nervous. It’s actually a bit of a tell.”

“Yeah?” He manages, hands trying to search their way through the blankets for you.

“Yeah. You have a lot of tells. For someone in your line of work, it’s actually a bit worrying.”

“You got me all figured out.” He says and means it, but you just roll your eyes.

“And you lean to the left when you think you can’t make a shot. You think it helps your angle.”

“Who woulda thought you were so observant.”

“You know, I actually did watch you when you were teaching me how to shoot.” Frank smiles, your skin finally under his palms. His hands splay on your back, and you lean closer.

“You were trying to fuck me the whole time. Don’t blame me for being surprised.” You try to whack him but your arms are pinned under the layers. Your laughter carries through him, skittering into his chest until he can’t help but laugh too.

“You came onto me.” He laughs harder. “It was very unprofessional. I was there to learn.”

“Damn fucking right I did.” His voice is low, and you shuffle around under his hold until your hands snake up behind his neck. His hair is too long, but he hasn’t cut it just yet. He tells himself that he hasn’t had time, but truthfully he likes the way it feels when you sift your fingers through the ends of it. Like now.

“You can tell me.” You say again, softer. He’s softer too– more malleable now you were here.

“I can’t help it.” He looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to where the sun is now just starting to rise. “She woulda… woulda liked it here. The kids, too.”

“You think so?” He nods, still staring into the orange sky.

“Probably would of had a lot to say about the inside, though.” You wrap around him tighter, head on his chest. “She was so good with those things. She loved when we painted our house. She had all these colors painted next to each other on the wall. All these different kinds of green. Everyone kept sayin’ it all looked the same but she... she could tell the difference. I could see what she meant when she put the couch next to it and shit, you know? She was real good with that stuff.”

“We could use her help around here. This place is sort of… ugly, on the inside.” He laughed again, his throat feeling tighter as he looked around. There was those same colour swatches, but none of them were coordinated like he was remembering. Pinks, blues, oranges and grays were all mixed together in big, sweeping strikes along the wall, stopping right above where your arm would be able to reach. “What would she have gone with?”

He looks down at you, your face washed in the light of the sunrise.

“The light orange. It looks good with the brown.” He nods over to the couch, an old leather one you’d made him pick up off the side of the road.

“We’ll do that one, then.” You tuck yourself under his chin, sighing.

“I think about ‘em everyday. What the kids would have looked like now. What they’d be doing. How Maria and I would of… raised ‘em. I was away all the time, but I just-”

“I think you would have been just fine.” You say into his chest, and Frank takes a shuddering breath.

“Why’s that?“

“Cause she was in love with you.” His chest tightens, and the grip he’s got on your waist gets a little tighter. “I’m… I’ll never be able to fix…that. It’ll always be with you, and nothing will change what happened, but I want you to know that they will always have a place here. You don’t have to apologize for talking about them– the kids, or Maria. I will never, ever not listen, and it will never be something I don’t want to hear. If they’re always with you, they’ll be with me, too.”

Frank takes two steps forward, and your feet pick up just in time to catch yourself before he throws you back on the couch. He’s never been good with words for things like this. He doesn’t think he should try to shove it all in a sentence, either. Not when theres so much he wants to say, but even more he wants to do.

You lay back, and he moves slowly. He wants you to know every move, every brush of his hand and his mouth is by design. He wants to know every square inch of you inside and out like you know him. He wants his hands to pull the strings, letting you hear all the things his mouth could never possibly form.

“Perfect.” Frank sighs against your mouth, over and over again. It was. You were. Are. The pit in his stomach disappears, pushed out and engulfed by the flames in his chest. There was no room for anything, not a single other feeling or word could possibly fit the way you two fit together. Your fingers tug at his shirt, and he takes it over his head. Your hands run and smooth gentle lines over his chest, over the healing wound on his side. It's jagged and wonky, and it nearly spelt your name. Frank thinks it’s the first time he’s looked down at himself and not hated to see the scars.

He unravels you like a gift to himself, savouring every moment even when you try to shrug off the blanket. You hadn’t dressed since last night, and Frank liked it even more this way. You sighed his name, and Frank shuddered, sealing his mouth over yours again. When his eyes opened for a split second, he could see your face, washed in orange light, and your hair swept to the side. He shut his eyes and kissed you again, the image seared into his mind forever.

Frank had faced a lot of bad things in his life. He had been shot, stabbed, pulled apart and put back together more times than he could remember. He thought he’d seen it all, felt it all before, but there was nothing like this. Nothing made him as weak as your fingers in his hair, and nothing made him as strong as the way you moaned his name. Nothing felt as good as sliding inside you, and nothing felt as empty as when you were gone. It made him lightheaded and brought him to the brink of consciousness, but he knew that this was right.

It could of been minutes or hours that had passed when he let himself go, but no amount of time with you under him would stop him from wanting more. The sun was up now, and Frank had you tucked to his side on the small space of the couch, legs tangled together in the blankets and each other. He felt you shiver against him, and the blankets wrapped around you had come loose. He bent to fix them, and when he moved you did it again.

He looked down, seeing the cold line of metal pressed against your bare back. The ring at the end was hanging over your ribs, and when Frank touched it, it was freezing. Holding it in his palm, it didn’t feel as heavy as it used to, and when he read the engraving on the back, he still felt cold.

Looking down at you, how you rolled over and sought him out even with your eyes closed, he leaned down to kiss the scar on your forehead. Then, like it was the simplest thing in the world, he slipped the necklace off over his head, and placed it in a neat circle on the coffee table next to his head.

They would always have a place here. But it wasn’t them who gave him warmth anymore.

When he tucked himself back under the covers, he knew it was you. It was always you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

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okay theres going to be an epilogue at some point, but it will probably be small and have very little plot, so this is the end of the main story. so, heres a little rant for you. if you read it, thank you, and if you dont, thank you anyways. knowing anyone is reading my words is a gift enough.

i think i have been writing this series for like 5/6 months ish?? thats fucking wild. i dont have an exact word count, but all i know is its fucking long. i cannot believe i wrote this much about a fictional character, but damn. that is a lot.

basically all i want to say here is thank you. to anyone who has read, interacted, or will read in the future, thank you from the bottom of my heart. it might be a lil dramatic but having people read stuff i write, let alone actually enjoy it makes me so incredibly happy. starting to write on here, and for frank especially, is probably one of the best decisions ive ever made. this series was a struggle to finish for so many reasons, mainly my incredible lack of planning and overall dumb writing schedule, but i have met so many incredible people along the way, and i am just so grateful to have a lil space to share my work.

frank castle will probably always own a giant spot in my heart, so thank you for letting me share my version of him. and letting me add as much smut as i want to this with no complaints bc i fuckin needed it okay!!!!!! i love you all. rant over. series over. damn!

p.s. i am never not going to write frank. dont worry. i already have an idea for my next series lmao!!!!!!!! luv ya!

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #the punisher #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x you #marvel tv #the punisher x reader #the punisher x you #marvel #the punisher x y/n

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sapphic-woes · 2 years

Note

Saw you were yearning for hcs and requests, and I came to deliver. How do you feel about possible wedding headcanons for Sevika? What about modern au headcanons? Whatever you wanna write about first, I just wanna hear your thoughts on these.

AHHH I wah wow I'm feeling giddy just thinking about it...this might be full of projections but I'll do the wedding hc lmao:

Marrying Sevika...ft. bridesmaid!Jinx?

You...never thought this would happen

The venue was more than either of you could afford–and that was because Silco had rented it out. He'd been so indifferent towards everything, and then suddenly? You have the nicest place in Piltover, and not an enforcer in sight.

You're nervous. But it's not because of doubt–you're more certain than ever that she's the one–but god...is she?

Sevika was so awkward about the whole thing. She never said she didn't want to, she even proposed to you but...sometimes, it was just hard to read her mind.

Jinx–the precious, but utterly chaotic child–burst in with a smile, blue dress shimmering as she tugged on your arm. "C'mon silly! It's time for you to marry that stupid ogre! And I called dibs walking you down!"

Already? Your heart beat wildly in your chest. Jinx had insisted on being the one to escort you down the isle, but now she seemed to be the one to also simply hold you up. Your legs were wobbling, your stomach was full of fireworks, and you just hoped that Sevika really was okay spending the rest of her life with you–

You couldn't breathe. The sun shown down on the cherry blossom trees around you, and the air was crisp with spring. It was all so pretty–the white and rose gold coordinated furniture and decor–but nothing compared to her.

The white suit made your cheeks burn and breath falter, she didn't have her hair tied in the back. It fell neatly to frame her face, and when you looked into her eyes you felt a similar understanding pass through the both of you.

The thought of "Oh, she looks beautiful today."

Was it fitted just for her body? You figured it had to be. It was the only way to explain the giddiness you felt inside your chest, just like the day you'd first met her. The violins played, and people turned to watch as you and Jinx walked down the isle, but your eyes only remained on Sevika, and hers on yours.

When you stood before her, you realized she wasn't breathing. She was so still. So frozen you thought she'd eventually pass out–but then she let out a breath. And when she whispered, it was as if she wasn't sure the air would carry the weight of her words.

"You look...perfect, y/n."

You smiled like the sun was your priest, shining it's approval of your love down on you. The "I do"s fell past both of your lips as if they had been waiting there for years, just begging to come out. Your lips hurt from smiling, and hers did too.

When you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss her, all the worries from before melted away.

She held you like she couldn't believe you were there. Arms wrapped tightly around your waist as yours went around her arms, and the joy in your heart muffled out the screams of joy around you both. Finally.

Sevika wasn't the biggest for public affection, but that day she was. Kissing your neck and holding your waist, murmuring my wife this and my wife that, to anyone that would hear.

She was happy. So clearly giddy that she was yours, and you hers–and it made you feel foolish, to think there was a moment you worried she didn't want to marry you in the first place.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #arcane sevika #arcane x reader #arcane headcanon #wahhhh i luv this smsmsmmssm #thank u for the ask♥️#bibi answers

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kiwixlime · 2 years

Text

Parasite Eve

Q is for Question

When a patrol goes wrong, you realize you have to ask Joel the most important question of all…

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Angst, gore-ish, feelings - so many feelings, mercy killings. Additional Notes: Yes, the title is from Bring Me the Horizon lmao. Again, special thanks to my pal @detectivebarba for the idea. <3 If you'd like, recommended listening for this fic is Paralysed by Jamie Campbell Bower.

All it takes is a second.

One single second of you taking the wrong step, entering the wrong building, trusting the wrong person, and it’s over. You’ve always been careful, unstoppable. Today shouldn’t have been any different. After all, you were with Joel, the only person you truly trusted. And you were on the trail by the creek, the one you’re incredibly familiar with. It should have been easy like it always is. But all it took was one second. One. Stupid. Second.

It happened so fast that it felt like you were moving in slow motion. You rounded the corner while glimpsing back at Joel with a striking smile. And as soon as your eyes met, you felt it. A sharp pain in your shoulder that could have been prevented.

The feeling terrified you, but it was the look in Joel’s eyes that had you in tears. The joy within them died as horror took over, consuming his entire being, suffocating him as he pulled his gun from his holster and aimed it at the creature right behind you. He shot without hesitation, making you shake with uncertainty. And now, as he carries you back to Jackson, you can still hear the ringing in your ears.

Your mind clouds with a thousand and one thoughts, and you can’t hear Joel whispering positive affirmations in your ear. He’s holding you so tightly, but he sounds a million miles away. You can’t process anything he says to you. All you can do, really, is stare into his distressed hazel eyes, thinking about how beautiful they are; how beautiful he is. Something you should have told him more.

“Joel,” you say faintly, your trembling hands reaching for the collar of his shirt. “I…” You get cut off as the pain in your shoulder burns through your body. Your fingers clench against Joel’s chest as you wail out in agony. The sound is enough to crack Joel’s heart in half. He has to choke back his tears as he carries you home. He needs to be strong for you.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he whispers, but you don’t hear it, too focused on the stinging that numbs you over. The way Joel holds you is unlike anything you’ve ever felt from another human before. It’s silly, but you feel safe. You feel protected even though you know there’s nothing he can do to save you.

Exhaustion hits you quickly. The adrenaline once pulsing through your veins has ceased, leaving you nothing but a drained shell of a person. Because of this, you can feel yourself dozing off in Joel’s arms. His voice is delicate and soothing, lulling you to sleep as his body heat seeps through his clothes and yours, alleviating your nerves.

When you come to, you find yourself in Joel’s bed. The wound on your shoulder has been cleaned and bandaged and Joel sits in the bed next to you, carefully playing with your hair. His face holds such adoration, but the smile on his lips is somber.

“Joel,” your voice cracks as you push yourself up. He frets over you in an instant, attempting to force you back down, keeping you safe and warm under the blankets where nothing can hurt you.

“Hey, what are you doin’?” He questions quietly, large hands gently grabbing you by the arms to keep you still. “You need to rest. Don’t get up. Whatever you need, I can get it for you,” he tells you with worry.

You sigh and reach a hand out to him, lacing your fingers affectionately. His body melts at your touch and you can hear his breathing pick up. Looking at him, you can see the tears threatening to break and cascade down his face. Oh, if he only knew the way you love him. The way you’ll always love him. If that was enough to save you, to save him…

“I don’t need anything,” you whisper, holding his hand. “I just wanted to tell you--”

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” he grunts, squeezing your fingers between his. “You’re fine,” he scoffs, swallowing down the lump in his throat, ignoring the vicious burn. “You…you’re perfect,” he says.

“Joel, please,” you croak, feeling your own heart shatter. He’s so stubborn, you know he’s trying to be brave. He’s in denial. But you have to say your piece before it’s too late. He needs to hear your words. They’ll be all he has left. “I have to.”

He shakes his head, turning away from you, the pain in his chest flaring through the cracks and sticking to him like glue. “Baby,” he warns, the shaking in his voice is prevalent, making it that much harder.

“I love you,” you tell him. “I love you so much. You have no idea.” Your lip trembles as warm tears spill down your cheeks. “You saved me in so many ways, Joel. And I will never be able to repay you for that, but I need you to know that I love you. That I love you now, and I will love you forever. In this life and the next.”

“Stop,” he warns again, but you see the dam begin to crumble. It’s going to hurt. Saying goodbye to him is going to hurt more than any of the pain you’ve experienced in this shitty world. But you have to while you still can. Before you lose your mind.

Ignoring his protests, you sit up in his bed, wincing at the soreness in your shoulder. He watches you with fearful eyes. But you push him back against the headboard and crawl into his lap. His arms wrap around you in an instant, holding you as close as he can, leaving zero space between your warm bodies.

“This is no one’s fault,” you say clearly. “Accidents happen. Luck can’t last forever.” Joel’s arms stiffen, his bone-crushing strength taking over as you speak the words he does not want to hear. “You can’t go back to your old ways, Joel, okay?” You weep as you think of past Joel and the loss he’s suffered. You’ll be damned if he turns into that man again. “Ellie needs you. Tommy needs you. This town needs you. Please don’t lose yourself.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbles, heart beating rapidly, you can feel the vibrations against your own. His hot breath crashes over your face, his plump lips pursed and face stoic. “I’m fine because you’re fine,” he shrugs as if it’s just a scratch. “You’re fine,” he repeats.

Maybe it’s because you never expected to last this long in this world, but you’ve accepted your fate quickly. You know what’s going to happen. In three days, you’ll be gone. You will be gone. And you know that.

But Joel refuses to accept that right now. He just can’t. You can’t leave him. How is he supposed to live without you?

“I’m not,” you tell him, closing your eyes as you feel him brush over the bandage on your shoulder. “And I need… I need to ask you a question, Joel.”

“No,” he says quickly, harshly, shooting down your thoughts before you can even express them. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your wound, pretending it’s nothing. “Please.”

You know he’s in denial. And you know that if he keeps this up, he’ll never recover. But it’s still the first day. So you keep quiet and let Joel have this one. You don’t have the energy to argue, anyway.

He tilts his head to kiss you, and you jump back, keeping him at a distance. His forehead creases, looking at you with a pout. “Don’t,” you tell him.

“Let me fucking kiss you,” he demands. He grabs your chin, tugging you closer, but you wiggle away. You’re afraid. You don’t know how this works. What if you infect him with a silly kiss? No, that’s not an option. But Joel won’t hear your protests. “I want to risk it,” he urges. “I’m not going to spend this time without kissing you. Are you insane?”

You want to fight him. Tell him you can’t put him in that position. But with the way he’s looking at you, silently begging for you to give yourself to him, you find that you cannot say no.

“Okay,” you whisper, kissing his lips softly. He lets out a long sigh, kissing you back, his hands reaching up, fisting handfuls of your hair to keep you as close as possible. His lips shake as he kisses you like his life depends on it, like it’ll be the last time he gets to taste you. Your chest feels heavy as he whimpers against you.

You’ll miss these lips. You’ll miss his hands and the way they hold you. You’ll miss his voice and the sounds he makes. His face, his humor, his love…fuck, you’ll miss it all. So you have to savor every last second with him, every touch, every word.

That night, you don’t talk much. You let your bodies say what your words can’t. And when you’re done, you hold each other close. Ignoring the pain for the time being.

The next morning when you wake up, you’re surprised Joel isn’t beside you. For a second, you think maybe you’ve been stuck in a wicked nightmare. But then you shift around in the bed and place your feet on the cold floor. The aches flood through your limbs to your bones, and you glance over to your shoulder. The bandage is still there, glaring at you, mocking you.

“Joel?” You call out into the empty room. Your body feels stiff as you stand, sore joints pulsing with each move you make. You grab Joel’s sweatshirt from the chair beside the bed and slip it on to keep you warm. You pad out of the room, down the stairs, calling out for him again. “Joel? Are you here?”

The house is eerily quiet as you search the rooms for your love, sadness washing over you at the thought of him leaving you alone. With what little time you have together, you’d think he’d want to spend every minute at your side. But maybe he’s that deeply in refusal. The thought eats away at you until you hear the back door open and close.

Relieved, you scurry to the back of the house and peer around the corner and down the hall at the noise. Your worries fade as Joel’s face comes into view. He smiles at you, slipping off his boots and leaving them by the door before crossing to where you wait.

“Good morning, darlin’,” he coos, grabbing your face in his hands. He kisses your nose, then your cheeks, then your lips. “How are you feeling?” He asks. “Did you sleep okay? You were out for a while. I wanted to be back before you woke up. I went to the greenhouse to grab some fresh fruit. Thought I’d make us a nice breakfast.”

“I’m okay,” you say, being as truthful as you can be. You don’t look great, and you feel sick. But all things considered, you’re okay. “I mean, as okay as I can be,” you add.

“That’s good,” Joel nods, ignoring the worried look on your face. There’s no time for that. It’s day two. And although he’s done a pretty good job of denying your fate, he still wants to make the most of your time together. So he acts like everything is normal. For his sake, and yours. “Are you hungry?”

To be honest, you’re not sure how to answer that question. You don’t necessarily have hunger pains, but you have discomfort. You’re not sure how eating would go over, but for Joel, you’re willing to try. He went through the effort to plan a nice breakfast for you two. You have to accept. You want to.

“Sure,” you smile, stepping into him and sliding your arms around his middle. You hug him tight, the knots in your stomach coming undone as you feel safe in his grasp. He smiles at your snuggles, kissing the top of your head, holding you close. You feel so good in his arms. Fuck, you fit him so well.

He could hold you forever - he would. No one will ever take your place. You’re it for him.

Before he lets his emotions get the best of him, he untangles his arms from you and heads towards the kitchen. He has to keep himself together as he pulls out ingredients he can use to make some type of pancakes. Your favorite food.

It’s quiet as he gets to work, both of you afraid to break the silence. There’s so much to say, but you don’t dare to start. And Joel doesn’t have the capacity to listen. It’s like when a pet is sick, and you know the time has come to put them down. The best - sometimes only - friend you’ve ever had has to leave you. So you spend their last few moments spoiling them, showing them how much you’re going to miss them.

Joel refuses to acknowledge it, but it’s eating away at him. If he can pretend hard enough, maybe it’ll come true. Maybe you’ll wake up tomorrow and be all better. Maybe a miracle will happen and you’ll turn out just like Ellie… Wouldn’t that be funny?

He chances looking at you, stomach dropping as he sees how fragile you are. Your skin is already paling, color draining from your lips, eyes dull. A stark contrast to how vibrant you usually are, always lighting up a room with your smile, bringing joy to everyone with your laugh. It’s not you. You aren’t…you.

This house, he thinks as he looks around, is too big for just him. How is he supposed to stay here when you’re gone? Living in the darkness, in the empty shadows of you. You and Ellie, you are his reason for breathing. How will he carry on when part of him dies?

His throat tightens as the thought passes. Images of Sarah dying in his arms resurface, flashbacks of that horrific night present themselves like a familiar movie. He can’t pause, he can’t stop it. They come at him in bursts until his fingers are shaking.

“Joel,” you whisper, gingerly wrapping your weak hand around his wrist. He doesn’t waste a second, turning around and throwing himself into your arms. You gasp, bringing your hands to rest against his back and pulling him into you.

He's such a great, powerful man, you can barely hold him together. But he buries his face in your neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. And you embrace him harder, digging your fingers into his shoulder blades. You bite your lip to hold in your screams, but fuck, it’s killing you.

“I love you,” you hear him whisper, his warm lips kiss up your neck, desperate and feverish. He pulls back just enough so that his forehead presses against yours, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to his lips. He kisses your fingers, your knuckles, before placing them over his heart. His eyes glisten as they peer into yours. “I love you,” he repeats.

You nod, softening at his touch. His long fingers brush away the tears that stream down your face before cupping your cheeks in his hands and kissing your lips. It’s just as passionate as the first time he kissed you, and just as meaningful as all the ones since.

“I’m always going to be here,” you tell him, knocking your hand upon his chest. “When you’re asleep, you’ll find me waiting for you. Whenever you feel alone, I’ll be around. Until we meet again, yeah?”

“Please don’t leave me,” he mewls in a voice so faint you think you’re hallucinating. “I can’t do this without you,” he admits solemnly.

“You can,” you say softly. “You’ve done it before and you can do it again.”

“Baby,” he whines, grabbing fistfuls of your clothes, bringing you into him. You aren’t close enough. He won’t be satisfied until you’re attached to him.

“I have to ask it, Joel,” you start, but he literally growls and pulls you back harshly. You frown at his anguish, knowing this is the last thing he wants to discuss, but holy shit, you need it. If he loves you at all, he’ll let you ask this fucking question. “Please, just listen to me, damn it!”

He’s taken aback by your outburst, and guilt settles within his gut. He doesn’t mean to make this harder for you, and maybe he’s being selfish, but you’re the fucking love of his life, his best friend, his person. What you’re about to ask of him is dreadful.

“I’m not going to turn into one of those fucking things,” you say sharply. “I won’t, Joel. And as someone you love, you have to make sure I don’t. Okay? Don’t let that happen to me! Please, please?” Your breathing picks up and Joel sees you’re on the verge of a panic attack. Fuck, did he cause this? This is the last thing you need.

“Shhh,” Joel coos as he sweeps your hair out of your face. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry.” He inwardly curses himself for getting you worked up, putting you through more unnecessary pain. “I… I’ll do it…” he says, but it’s unconvincing. It’s just so you’ll shut up and stop talking about it.

For now, it’s good enough. It’s still early, and Joel has your whole day planned. You want to enjoy whatever he has for you and not fight.

So you let him make you your favorite breakfast. He makes a mixed fruit salad and squeezes you fresh juice. Because it’s what you deserve.

You eat together with Joel taking the time to feed you a few bites before you can’t contain your giggles anymore. He does everything he can to keep you smiling. And he talks to you as if nothing is wrong. As if you’ll be just fine. He treats it like any other day.

After you eat, you walk through Jackson hand-in-hand. He lets you say your goodbyes, mortifying Tommy and Maria, breaking Ellie’s heart. It’s a struggle to get away from them, as they don’t want to let you go. But they can see how much Joel needs you. And they won’t get in the way.

When you’ve said what you wanted to say and done the things you’ve wanted to do, Joel leads you back to your favorite place behind the walls. A giant oak tree you frequently visit to enjoy the sunshine and the sounds or to sit under when you want to read in solitude. It’s the place where Joel first kissed you, where he told you about his daughter, where you told him you loved him.

It’s the perfect place for you to rest. And Joel joins you, his back against the bark while you relax in his arms. He sings you your favorite songs and kisses your face when you shiver in pain. He lightly brushes over your bandage, repeating to himself that it’s just a scratch.

You’re so beautiful. The sun shines through your hair, casting a golden glow over your silky strands. He loves to just run his fingers through your hair, feeling the soft tresses slip through his fingertips, hearing you moan as he touches you. It’s one of his favorite things.

And the way you look right now frightens him. But fuck, you’re still the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen. Your plush lips still put him in a trance as you speak. And when you blink your eyes and look up at him through fluttering lashes, his heart flutters. How can you just leave him like this?

“Christ, I need to finish teaching you how to play the guitar…” He mutters as this realization hits him. “I should run back and grab it, or find Ellie’s.” He’s frantic as he thinks about the things you still have to achieve. He should have made more time for you.

“Relax,” you breathe, placing your palms over his thighs. He stops fidgeting when you touch him, doing whatever you say. “You’ve taught me well,” you chuckle lightly. “I could probably play an entire song now. Even better than you.”

“Is that so?” He snorts, his deep voice sending goosebumps down your spine. “Alright, pretty girl. Tell me what song you’d play?”

“Crystal by Stevie Nicks,” you say proudly, turning your head to smile at him. For a second, your vision gets fuzzy, Joel’s face distorting into unfamiliar shapes, and panic sets in. But the feeling fades as you blink away the stinging sensation. His gorgeous features come back into view.

It’s starting, you think. You want to distance yourself from Joel, but you know he won’t have it. No more kissing, though. That’s for sure.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” He asks tenderly, noticing your quick shift in emotions. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m just tired,” you mutter, closing your eyes when the burning sensation returns to them. You shake your head and lean into the man behind you, mentally trying to calm yourself down. “And I’m feeling a little warm,” you sigh.

Frowning, Joel brings his hand up, placing the back of it to your forehead. He almost jolts away at how strikingly hot you are. You’re sweaty, shaking, and his stomach turns. “Maybe we should head back inside,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper, unable to argue. You let Joel lift you up, carrying you back to the house bridal style. Your pretty eyes flutter open and closed and he tries to keep up a strong front. But god, he’s ready to break. “Love you,” you mumble sluggishly through chapped lips.

“I love you,” Joel chokes out, clenching his jaw so he doesn’t give away his worries.

He makes it back to the house, carrying you upstairs and placing you safely in the bed. He’s attentive, bringing you water and cold cloths for your fever. He doesn’t sleep at all that night.

“You have to do it, Joel,” you whimper as you cry. The gun in your quivering hand taunts him, pleading with him to end your life. “I can’t turn,” you reiterate. “If you won’t do it…”

“Baby,” Joel grabs the hand holding the gun, pushing it down to your side. His eyes are red and puffy, twitching from the worry and lack of sleep. The misery in your face says it all, but how can he do it? How can he just fucking put you down? “Darlin’, I--”

“You promised me,” you hiss, shoving the gun into his chest. “You swore to me at the very beginning, that if something ever happened… You would do this for me. And I would do it for you!”

“I don’t want to!” Joel shouts as he grabs the gun. He waves it around maniacally, scaring you a little bit. You’re the one losing your mind, but he’s not faring well, either. “I can’t!”

You stare down each other, standing beneath your favorite oak tree. His chest rises and falls rapidly, anger and fear surging through his veins. You won’t even let him kiss you. He tried this morning, and you pushed him away. He went to check your bandage and the view of your skin, all red and black, crushed him. He has to pull himself out of that fantasy bubble now. Because this is it.

“You think I want this?” You speak softly. Your tenacious facade has finally withered. Your voice cracks as you cross to him, grabbing his handsome face in your hands. “I don’t want to die, Joel. I want to stay here with you. I love you!” You sob, curling your body into him. “I love you, I love you. I don’t want to leave you!”

“Fuck, baby girl,” Joel groans. His sturdy arms cover you, holding your small frame against him. He looks behind you, his heart sinking at the carved out initials in the tree bark. You did that this morning when you got back from the creek. Well, with your frail hands, Joel did it. You just told him what to write.

You look at him through your tears, laughing a little at how he probably looks just as distraught as you. You carefully touch his face, running your fingers over his scars one last time. The sickness within you is almost overwhelming. It’s time. It has to be.

“Joel,” you whisper. That question that’s been on the tip of your tongue rolls off with ease now that you can feel yourself deteriorate. “Will you end this? Kill me.”

Loud cries escape his throat and he clutches the gun until he can feel the coldness of it dig into his palm. His lips kiss you all over your face, whispering over and over how much he loves you. But you know this. Joel’s never been a man to show his emotions. But you’ve always known by his actions. And now, when he’s telling you that he wishes he would have said it more, you just have to assure him that it’s okay.

“I wish we had more time,” he gasps between broken sobs.

“Me too,” you mourn.

He places the cold metal to your temple, groans convulsing through his body. You can hear his whimpers, feel the unsteady beating of his heart. His arm holds you so tightly, it’s the only thing that’s calming your crazed brain. The gun cocks and you close your eyes, exhaling your final breaths. A serene emotion sweeps over you. And the last thing you hear in this cruel world is Joel’s loving voice.

“Sleep well, darling,” he sobs. “Find Sarah for me.”

Masterlist

Joel Miller Taglist: @swtaura - @chxpsi - @extraneous-trip - @cerebellam - @tiredbeebo - @kirsteng42 - @trickstersp8 - @detectivebarba

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