#I’ll ask Reddit next

[terracottahearted]

So I got GA tickets to Gorillaz and I wanted to see how early should I get to the venue before they open the doors so I can be in the very front? So if you’ve been in GA at a Gorillaz show pls lend me your wisdom

#txt #gorillaz #music #damon albarn #2D #murdoc niccals #russel hobbs #noodle gorillaz #sound machine #Gorillaz tour #concert #general admission #help #I’ll ask Reddit next

[btchboiwithacnt]

I met up with a guy from Reddit; we had initially met up on the understanding that we weren’t going to fuck. I was going to suck his dick and he was going to eat and finger my pussy and play with my tits. At first, that’s all we did.

Then he he got up from eating my pussy- I assumed he was going to suck on my tits again or fuck my face. He started rubbing his cock up and down my slit, leaking precum as he did it. He said “can daddy fuck your pussy baby girl?” I was stupid and I said “no daddy, please don’t fuck my pussy!” Obviously he was entitled to do whatever he wanted, but I still tried to argue. He kept rubbing his dick up and down and then he started nudging at my opening every time he got down to the bottom of my slit. Again he said “come on baby, don’t you want to make daddy feel good? Just let me in for a couple minutes, I won’t cum inside.” Eventually I agreed and he pushed inside of me the next time he got to my hole.

He fucked me while sucking and biting my tits. He was moaning and telling me what a good girl I was being for daddy. After a couple minutes, he started saying “I’m going to cum so deep in your pussy baby, I’m going to knock you up, you’re going to have my babies!” I asked him not to cum in my pussy, but a couple minutes later, he groaned, pushed as deep inside me as he could, bit down on my nipple, and filled me with his cum. He kept his dick inside me while he played with my clit until I came, and then he pulled out.

I waited about a month month, and the test came back negative. I was pretty sure it would be, but I wanted to confirm. I’m not pregnant this time, but I should be. If I keep letting men whose names I don’t even know breed my pussy, pretty soon I’ll be a different kind of FTM- First Time Mommy.

#ftm detrans kink #ftmtf girl #ftm misgendering #r4p3 kink #misgendering blog #ftmtf #forced detrans #ftm breeding

[honey-words]

spider boy — spider-man!midoriya izuku x reader

synopsis:   you’ve talked to your neighbor a few times before and have waved at him on campus. But you’ve noticed he keeps really weird hours, sometimes hearing him go into his apartment at ungodly hours of the night. So when spider-man enters your apartment one night, it’s easy for you to connect the dots from there. 

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries, hints of angst, hurt/comfort

wc: 3.1k

author’s note: I believe in spider-man!deku supremacy :)

part 1 of the spider boy series

“Spider-man does it again! Only three blocks from the UA university campus, the masked hero—”

“You’re a spider-man fan?”

You jumped, almost dropping your phone and falling off of the bench in the process. 

“Midoriya! You scared me.”

He laughed and you paused the video you were watching, a news clip from this morning. He settled down beside you on the bench, taking a sip of his iced coffee as he did. 

“Yeah, I guess I am a fan,” you said. “Campus PD sucks and I think it’s funny a spider guy is more reliant than all of them put together.”

You both shared a laugh. 

“I have to get to class,” Midoriya sighed, not making any movements to get up from the bench. “How’s Moony?”

“She’s great, thanks for asking,” you said, smiling back at him. Because Midoriya was the definition of a perfect neighbor. He had introduced himself when you first moved in and he saw the small cat carrier with a little black kitten, Moony, inside of it. From there it had been a pleasant acquaintanceship between the two of you. 

“I’ll see you later, then,” he said, really standing up this time. “Bye!”

You waved goodbye as he left, then turned back to the video. 

A thief had been running loose on campus for the last week, snatching cell phones and wallets from unsuspecting students on their way to class. Campus PD had found the thief this morning, literally on their doorstep with a sticky note that had a spider sketch stuck on his face. 

A smaller feat of Spider-Man’s, but a good one nonetheless. 

During your first lecture of the day you could see other people were watching the same video and reading the accompanying article. It was the first time Spider-Man had acted so close to campus, practically on the grounds of it considering where he had turned in the thief. 

The person in front of you had a Reddit post pulled up, and you had to bite your cheek to refrain from laughing as you read the title. Spider boy or whatever is totally a UA student. Here’s my proof!!!!

Finding the professor’s lecture increasingly dry and dull, you decided to pull up the Reddit tab on your own laptop so you could read it, too. 

By the time the lecture was over you had read the entire post (it was surprisingly long) and all of the comments underneath it, half-convinced of the theory yourself. It made some reasonable arguments—Spider-Man stuck to the surrounding city, usually went around at night, rarely seen throughout the day—keeping with the schedule of a college student. Sticking to the surrounding city pointed to the fact that he lived near campus. And the latest crime he’d solved was the cherry on top, because the alerts about it had gone out to all campus members since the incidents were contained to the campus. 

The dull lecture came with dull readings, which you idly flipped through later that night. It was nearing 1 am, but sleep had not yet found you, and even the reading was not putting you to sleep. 

You must’ve dozed off on your tiny kitchen table, Moony curled up on the chair next to you, because her surprised meow and the sound of a door closing close by woke you up a few hours later. Your phone lit up with an email notification (professors were truly unhinged with their work hours) and you were able to see the time without lifting your head up from the table. 4 am. 

The door that had closed and woken you and Moony up had been Midoriya’s, you realized even in your half-asleep state. Occasionally the sound would wake you up, but you never minded it much and usually rolled over and fell back asleep. 

This time you had to drag yourself over to your bed, and you could vaguely hear Midoriya moving around next door. What business he had this early in the morning you never knew. He seemed pretty normal, and you always assumed he was fond of late library study sessions. Even if it was not exactly exam season. But then again, he was a biochem major, you mused. 

You fell asleep wondering about this and woke up five hours later to the sound of your blaring alarm. It snapped you awake, enough to hear a thud from next door. Did Midoriya fall out of bed?

The day passed as usual. You went to class, took half-hearted notes (it was hard to focus at this point in the semester—everyone was already burnt out) came home and ate dinner with Moony, and cuddled up on the couch together to do your readings. 

This time you were ready to pass out outside of the warm embrace of your bed, so you’d done your nightly routine and brought over blankets to the couch, ready for sleep to come whenever it was ready. 

The sound that woke you up this time was much louder. And Moony hissed. 

She never hissed. 

You froze from your curled-up position on the couch, eyes still heavy with sleep and senses scrambling to catch up with your brain and racing heart. The coffee table was right across from you, and by some miracle, you’d been sipping on a lemonade earlier—one in a glass bottle. 

As swiftly as you could, you untangled yourself from the blankets and grabbed the lemonade bottle, wielding it in front of you like a sword.

It slipped from your grasp when you saw who was standing in front of you, next to your open window you always kept closed, scared Moony would climb out. 

As if on reflex, as if he expected you to drop your weapon, Spider-Man shot a web just as it slipped from your fingers, catching it in his hands before you could even register you had dropped it.

Moony, who had been very annoyed at being woken up just a minute ago, was now rubbing her head on his shins affectionately. 

“Moony,” you whispered. “Get away from him.”

“It’s okay!” Spider-Man said, mirroring your whisper. “I’m not here to hurt anyone.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Then why did you break into my apartment?” You looked around for your phone, or another potential weapon. Instead, your gaze found the small digital clock you kept on a shelf near the door, the bright green numbers clearing away the fogginess of sleep. 

It was 4am. 

You could not help the gasp that escaped you. 

“Midoriya?”

The effect was instantaneous. Spider-Man’s entire body language changed, that much you could tell, even in the dark. He took a step away from you, back toward the window, shoulders tense. 

“What?” he said. Trying hard to keep his voice steady, even deepening it a little. But you knew it was him. 

“Did you think this was your apartment?” You were connecting the dots now. “This is why you always come back so late.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, inching towards the window. “I just got a little lost. Thought this place was empty.”

“You’re bleeding,” you said, pointing at the gash in his arm as though he had not noticed it himself. “Why’re you bleeding?”

Moony meowed, as though echoing your question. She was still close to him, and leaned forward to rub her head against his shin again. 

This seemed to break him—his shoulders drooped and he let out a long exhale. He reached up and pulled the mask off, and you gasped again. 

The left side of his face was covered in bruises, his eye starting to swell a bit. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, glancing down at Moony. 

“Smart cat. She recognized me.” You winced and instinctively moved toward him when he tried to smile and grimaced at the action. 

“Sit down, please,” you said, remembering to speak quietly. “You can’t die in my apartment. You can’t.”

“I won’t,” he said, letting you manhandle him into sitting on the couch. “Promise.”

“If you thought this was your apartment you’re definitely concussed,” you said, reaching up to move his curls aside, careful not to touch his face. The bruises covered his entire left side, also the side his arm was bleeding. “What happened to you?”

You snatched your hand away when he realized he was frozen, eyes to the side where your hand was. 

“I got thrown into a wall,” he said, smiling again. A smaller grimace this time. “I’m really sorry.” 

“You’re sorry for being thrown into a wall?” You shuffled to the kitchen to grab the tiny first aid kit you kept there. It was dusty and unused and consisted mainly of bandaids, something you started laughing at a little hysterically as you opened it on the couch, in between you and Midoriya. He’d leaned back onto the couch, breathing evened out. He was lying so still you thought he was sleeping, until he turned his head to see what you were laughing at. 

“I only have bandaids,” you said, still laughing a little. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” he said. “Oh, I didn’t mean…” he started laughing. Quietly, then a little louder until you were both giggling and suppressing loud laughs. 

“It’s okay,” he said, catching his breath again. “Can you help me get to my place? I’m used to patching myself up.” 

It took five minutes, but eventually, you both managed to get out your front door, coaxing Moony to stay inside. Midoriya had one of his arms draped around your shoulder, keeping him upright. He had reassured you plenty of times as you both shuffled out the door that he was fine, he had been through worse. Which only made you feel worse. 

His apartment was the exact same layout as yours, though a little messier, which he apologized for. There were notes all over his kitchen table, his couch was covered in blankets. You had a feeling he was prone to falling asleep all over his apartment like you did.  

“Thank you,” he said once he had settled down on his couch. “I’m really sorry, again.”

“I know,” you said, sitting down beside him. You stared at the clock directly across from you, above his small TV. “I’m sorry for figuring out who you are.”

Another small laugh from him. “S’okay.” he shifted to look at you, and you mirrored him. It would have felt awkward being this close to someone you knew more in passing a day ago, but you felt as though this entire experience had automatically made the two of you friends. A trauma bond, of sorts. “You won’t tell anyone?”

You smiled back at him. “Promise.”

You didn’t remember getting back to your apartment, only that it took a lot of convincing on Midoriya’s part. The second you woke up (on your couch) you rushed to get out the door and knock on Midoriya’s until he opened, if anything to confirm you had not dreamed anything that had happened. But before you could get your slippers on, you saw a small note on the floor in front of the door. 

Two spiders drawn holding hands, with “friends?” written underneath.

You slid it back under his door with your own addition — a drawing of a cat and “friends” written underneath his question. 

——— * * * ———

“Trauma bond?”

“Yeah,” you said, shoving at his shoulder and ignoring his fake wince. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” he agreed, petting a meowing Moony in his lap. He was frowning down at her, and you had been around him long enough to know something was wrong. 

It had been over a month since the break-in incident (which Midoriya was still apologizing for) and you had grown used to each other’s company. It had started off small—seeing him in the library during the day, studying quietly next to him. Stifling your laughter when he slid a spider doodle across the table to you. 

After that, you noticed him around campus more often. You had always greeted him when he crossed your path, stopping to make small talk. But now you actually talked about things of substance. Setting up study sessions, inviting him over to play with Moony, exchanging recipes and even starting to cook at each other’s apartments. 

“Is my pasta not good?” you said. Moony meowed, echoing your question from his lap. 

“It could use some pepper,” he said, smiling teasingly at you. “No, it’s good. Just a rough night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” you said. 

“S’okay,” he said. “We’re trauma bonded enough.” You felt a pang of guilt at the sadness in his tone. 

“Midoriya—” 

“Thank you for the pasta,” he said. “I can help with the dishes.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You know we’re friends friends, right?”

He nodded. “I’m messing with you.”

“You little shit!” he laughed as you set your dishes down in the sink, shoving him slightly. He smiled slyly at you. He seemed like the perfect boy next door, but he was really a little shit. And he was the perfect boy next door. 

“I haven’t heard you come back late in a while,” you said. He turned to look at you from his place at the sink, eyebrows raised. 

“You wait up for me?”

“No!” you said indiginantly. “It just used to wake us up.” 

“Really? I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you said. “But you have to wake me up if you’re hurt really bad, okay? Even if it’s just to sit with you.”

A small noise of acknowledgement from Midoriya. 

“What was that?”

“Promise.” 

Satisfied, you got up from your place at the table, letting him finish up the dishes. “Are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry in advance about the early morning wake up call.”

He still would not tell you where he went. But the news reports the next day served as the answers to your questions. A crime solved here, a criminal turned in there. The Spider-Man news page, ran by dedicated fans, was bookmarked on your computer and one of your most visited tabs. On nights when you couldn’t sleep and didn’t know where he was, you would refresh it every few minutes, waiting for an update. 

Sometimes he would go during the day, and when you would get back from class he would be there on your couch with Moony, napping. You would sit on the opposite end and wait for him to wake up, then decide on what to make for lunch together. Not talking about the new bruise on his arm or the new cut on his leg. If he brought it up you knew it was okay to talk about it, but usually you both talked about normal topics. Avoiding the giant spider in the room. 

“All done!” he said, falling down on the couch beside you. Reaching to pet Moony, who was cuddled up on your lap. Arm muscles flexing, hands softly running through Moony’s fur. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how jacked he was. Especially when he was literally always stripping in your apartment, changing from his suit into his regular clothes. Letting you sneak glances at his back, his chest. 

“Take a nap,” you blurted. “If you’re going to be out tonight. You need to rest.”

“I will,” he said, smiling up at you. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” you said, huffing. “You better not visit me tonight. I expect you to kick ass and come back with no injuries.”

“‘Kay,” he said. “See you tomorrow?” You nodded and watched him dramatically sigh, throwing his head back on the couch before getting up and shuffling to the door. 

The rest of your evening was spent anxiously trying to distract yourself. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head, in the pit of your stomach. After finishing your homework and realizing it was hours before your usual bedtime, you cleaned your apartment. Reorganized, moved things around. 

You decided to settle on the couch for the night. Better place to hear Midoriya come back. 

The sound that jolted you awake a couple hours later was louder than usual, and it woke you up quicker. A quick glance at your clock let you know it was only 1am.

“Midoriya?” you said quietly, sitting up. “You okay?”

He was standing near your window, at almost the exact same spot as a month before, when he had first broken in. 

“No,” he said. Voice hoarse and almost too quiet for you to hear. 

You were up and leading him over to the couch in an instant. His mask was already off, clutched in between his fingers

“Are you hurt?” you said, patting down his arms and running your fingers over his face softly, scared to touch a bruise or aggravate a cut. A shake of his head. 

You gently took the mask from him, setting it down on the coffee table with one hand, the other gripping his hands tightly. “Want to talk about it?”

He nodded, squeezing your hands back. “Later.”

“Okay,” you said, scooting closer to him on the couch so your shoulders pressed together. “I’m here, okay? It’s okay.”

You were ready when his shoulders started shaking and he slid into your hug, staining your shirt with his tears. You ran your hands through his hair, rubbing your fingers along the nape of his neck. Repeating the phrase over and over until it felt like you were trying to convince yourself of the same thing. 

The bruises were on his side this time—no cuts deep enough to warrant him going back to his apartment to patch himself up. You helped him get his suit off slowly. The tears hadn’t stopped, and yours had started fifteen minutes after his. It hurt to see him like this and not know how to help. Knowing all you could do was help him get back to his apartment and keep his secret.

“Can I stay?” he said. He was holding the top half of his suit to his chest, hugging it. 

“Yeah, course you can,” you said. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

Moony walked out of your room with an annoyed meow. She had been sleeping, but once she spotted Midoriya she happily sauntered over, already purring. 

Once he had changed into the clothes his eyes started to droop, and you started convincing him to sleep in your room. He kept shaking his head, until he finally told you, “Don’t want to be alone.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” you said. Slipped out so easily you had no time to realize you had said it until he nodded and you were walking into your room and settling under the covers, Midoriya turning to face you, lashes wet with tears.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He blinked slowly at you, sleep making his eyes heavy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

masterlist

#midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x you #mha x reader #bnha x you #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x you #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x oc #spiderman deku #bnha fanfiction #spiderdeku

[kamehamehamlet]

The Tumblr reblog sensation is returning. But like the Sayians or Shakespeare’s folios, it has the potential to develop in many forms.

Visit kamehamehamlet.com to be notified when we have more details.

Follow this blog for a peak behind the curtain.

And read on to learn more about the show, how we got here, and where we’re going.

Thank you for waiting just a little bit longer.

Revival Project Q&A

Who are you?

Hi! I’m Daniel Cole Mauleón (@writepictures), the writer of Kamehamehamlet. In 2015 I co-founded the theatre company Play-Dot Productions with KHH’s director Shalee Mae Cole Mauleón.

What is Kamehamehamlet?

Kamehamehamlet: Good Night Saiyan Prince, was an hour-long one act play, performed during the 2015 Minnesota Fringe Festival. It’s a staged retelling of Vegeta and Freeza’s battle on the planet Namek. Marketed as a Dragon Ball Z and Hamlet mash-up, the parody quickly shuffled off its weighted gi, revealing it was actually a Waiting for Godot spoof. After five performances, Vegeta hung up his helmet of spiky hair. Seven years later, K (@amokslime) wrote this incredibly gracious post on Tumblr, which inspired two people to reach out to me via Reddit to ask if I had a script or a recording of the performance.

I want to pause the semi-marketing voice and say a heartfelt thanks to K. Kamehamehamlet was brought to life by an incredible team of artists during a summer I’ll never forget. We got laughs at jokes, gasps at fight choreography, and we broke even on the budget (a Fringe miracle TBH). K’s post gave me the chance to revisit that show through someone else’s eyes. The mix of pride and humility it stirs up is truly indescribable.

If there is art which has changed you, and especially if the artist is still alive I encourage you to non-intrusively share that with the artist.

Is there a copy of the script?

Yes, I’ll speak more about that at below.

Is there a recording of the performance?

There was, but I genuinely lost the files. And that’s for the best, honestly. It was a last-second attempt, filmed from two cheap cameras (with different qualities and resolutions!), both at bad angles and with truly awful audio. Trust me. It’s better this way.

That said, I do have other archival footage from rehearsal's, tech, etc. that I look forward to sharing for those curious.

What’s next?

This is the question I’ve been asking myself over the past year and the reason it took so long to post anything. Especially since one thing I want to do differently this time is make sure that any artists involved are meaningfully compensated for their time and skill. However, I can’t plan without a better estimate of what kind of support we would have, and I didn’t want to share our intentions without concrete details.

Right now, the best way you can support this project is by signing up for the announcement on kamehamehamlet.com.

The second best thing you can do is to share with others about this project, if I’ve learned anything reading through the comments on K’s post, it is that there’s a much bigger audience for KHH than I could have ever imagined, and you likely know at least one more person who would be interested.

And while I don’t want to promise anything I can’t deliver on, I will share that I’m planning on making the script available this year and I’ll be writing a separate post about that in near future.

If you’ve read this far thank you so much.

Photography by Ann B. Erickson. Vegeta is played by McKenzie Shappell. Freeza is played by Cayla Marie Wolpers. Costumes by Sarah Noel Simon.

#kamehamehamlet #theater #dbz #dragon ball #shakespeare #hamlet #waiting for godot #vegeta #freeza #goku #this is about as good a place as any to share that... #I only just realized after spending a day in Adobe Illustrator that I've just made the IKEA logo...

[blerb-f1]

"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an  experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments. 

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

—-----------------------------------------------

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting. 

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour. 

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall. 

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him. 

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains. 

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

#blerb writes #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #lewis hamilton #nonbinary!reader

[dollfaceksj]

CAL part 2 when???

here u go bby…

remember: CAL will get updates every friday, saturday and sunday. might not always be that consistent but ill try my best!

can’t afford love | myg (m) #2

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“would you be willing to give him a sibling?”

yoongi nearly chokes on his own saliva

he wipes his mouth with the used napkin before looking back at you. “what?”

you lean back in your chair and throw your leg over the other, crossing your arms over your chest

“i’m asking if you’d be willing t–”

“i heard you.”

you tilt your head to the side, watching as he continues to stare at you

trying to make sure whether you’re joking or not

“let me get this straight right now,” he says as he leans forwards. “are you actually asking me to knock you up?”

well… if he says it like that you might forget abt the baby and just want him up in ur guts

WHAT ARE U SAYING?

be serious.

“well, you said whatever jun wants, jun gets.” you glance at jun. “and he wants someone that he can play with that’ll love him unconditionally and that he can love unconditionally.”

yoongi’s brows knit together, eyes studying you closely whilst you stare at jun. you continue, “he tries his best to fit in so he’s really attached to his friends at daycare. you know what happened during his birth.”

at this, yoongi winces. he remembers the complications of your pregnancy with jun very clearly.

“and you know it was originally our plan to have two kids. we were always of the opinion that we wanted 2 kids that could have each other and be there for each other.” you let out a breath cause it just seemed like you were holding it the entire time (you were). “and it’d just be easier to have kids by the same man, married or not.”

you finally make eye contact with him

and he’s still staring

straight at you

like you’re crazy.

“you realize what you’re asking of me, right?”

you roll your eyes. “obviously i know what i’m asking. you can be as involved as you want, i’m doing this for jun.”

“don’t say it like that,” he snaps. “saying you’re doing this for jun as if i wouldn’t run around the perimeter of the earth until the skin on my feet fell off for him.”

you squint your eyes at him and just as you’re about to respond, he continues;

“and i can’t just be super involved with jun and not with the new baby. that’s fucked up,” he says as he shakes his head

he’s right, you suppose

he’s very right

“let me–” he sighs as he rubs his face. “let me just think about it.”

you nod your head slowly. “of course,” you say. “just let me know beforehand. if you agree, great. if not, i can ask someone else.” you rise to your feet and start gathering the dirty dishes

“what?” he asks, a twitch in his brows

you glance up at him as you stand up. “what?”

he frowns. “who are you going to ask?”

you shrug your shoulders. “jimin or seokjin or something.” you start heading into the kitchen. “or maybe find someone on reddit or whatever.”

both jimin and seokjin are your college friends, mutual friends of you and yoongi

he quickly gets up and follows you, taking the dirty plates out of your hands. “you’re not going to ask them.” he puts the plates in the sinks and turns to you. “they wouldn’t do that, they’re not… father material.”

ugh. look at him trying to find a reason to voice why he doesn’t think you asking your friends is a good idea without just being honest about why he wouldn’t like it

you tilt your head to the side. “why not? i’ve asked them before in a hypothetical sense and they weren’t opposed to it.”

at this, his frown deepens

he closes the distance between you two almost instantly. he says, “i’ll do it, there’s no need to ask anyone else.”

ugh

you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes

what the hell is his deal?

right girl… pretend like you’re not enjoying this

you shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. “i don’t need you to do it just to spite me, yoongi. fucking grow up,” you mumble as you turn to walk back to the table

but he stops you in your tracks by grabbing you by the bicep

“it’s not to spite you, it’s for jun and the new baby. you’re right, we agreed on 2 kids and it’s best for them to share both parents. i’ll do it.” he lets go of your bicep after he’s seemingly convinced you to stay where you are

ohhh

now he wants to come around

you idly blink at him for a few moments. “i want you to do it because you want to do it, not because–”

“i want to.” he takes a slep closer, now menacingly looming over you. “i want to do whatever it takes.”

when you think he’s convincing enough, he adds, “you want me to put a baby in you? i’ll put a fucking baby in you.”

oh

right. 😂😂😂

😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 okay….

your throat is tightening and your chest stutters with the way your heart feels like it’ll jump out of your body.

he’s staring down at you with such venom in his eyes that it almost stings you

“i’ll give you a whole goddamn soccer team if you need me to.” his eyes continue to stare you down. “if that’s what i need to do to make jun happy, i’ll do it.”

you blink at him, his warm breath fanning over your face. “okay,” you try to say confidently but it comes out a whisper

“how are we gonna go about it?” he quietly asks as he takes a small step back to end the proximity between you two

UGHHHH

here comes the part that you dread the most

you blink at him and your cheeks heat up. “i don’t expect you to go jack off in some random clinic, yoongi. just… in the traditional way.”

“that’s not what i meant,” he mumbles as he crosses his arms over his chest, ears a soft shade of red. “i meant when. where?”

“here. i’m ovulating this weekend.”

he coughs at the new information. damn. he’s supposed to fuck you this weekend already?

he starts nodding his head. “what about jun?”

“i’ll drop him off at my mom’s.”

he stares at you for a moment longer. “you’ve planned this out.”

“clearly.” you brush past him and gather more of the dirty dishes

he silently watches you, clearly still thinking about the crazy thing he just agreed to

you abruptly turn to him. “and listen here,” you say as you walk up to him, closing the distance and pressing an accusatory finger into his chest until he winces

“no foreplay. no kissing. no sweet talking. no aftercare.”

this might hurt him more than the finger pressing into him

because yoongi loves all of those things

yoongi loves foreplay. loves kissing. loves praising. loves to take care after

he frowns at you for a few moments. “no foreplay? how do you expect to ha–”

“i’ll make sure to be prepared by the time you arrive. don’t you worry about that.” you turn on your heels and gather the remaining dirty plates and utensils before putting them in the sink and drowning them in water

he quietly sighs. “so, that’s it? i come by every few weeks to fuck you and we don’t even communicate?”

ohhhh

NOW he wants to care about that?

you bitterly laugh. “oh, you mean like our shitty marriage the last 6 months leading up to our divorce?”

you can tell he didn’t like that by the way his nostrils flare and a muscle in his jaw tenses

this one stings

his face turns into a scowl. “don’t put everything on me. that’s not fair.”

you shrug your shoulders. “just tellin’ it how it is.” you brush past him to head into the living room, seeing jun still playing with his new toy

yoongi follows you out, shoving his hands in his pockets. “you know you’re being unfair. it’s why you’re walking away from me.”

“honestly, yoongi,” you say as you turn to him. “kiss my ass.”

you then turn to pick jun up off the floor. “you need to go to sleep, baby, it’s getting late.”

you hold jun in your arms and surprisingly he’s not protesting

he holds out his grabby hands at his father and yoongi takes him right away

he says bye to him, cuddling and poking jun until he’s shaking from laughter

you take him back and head into jun’s room, changing his clothes and tucking him into bed

you kiss his small forehead and turn the lights off, leaving his nightlamp on before heading into your own room

you strip, reaching for the bathrobe

“is that why you wore my favorite dress?”

you squeal at the sudden voice coming from the entrance of your room as you turn around, hugging the bathrobe to hide your exposed body

your eyes meet yoongi’s, who is leaning against the doorframe with his hands buried in his pockets

“what the fuck are you doing here? i thought you’d already left,” you mumble as you quickly scramble to put the bathrobe on and tie the rope around your waist

“relax. nothing i haven’t seen before.” he starts walking further into your room, closing the distance between you two

and each step he takes makes your heart beat of your damn chest

get your shit together !!!

“i don’t care! you can’t just–”

“and why not?” he finally stops walking when he’s right in front of you, half an arms length away from you. “you’re asking me to fuck you but i can’t see you in your underwear? how backwards is that?”

you angrily frown up at him. “i didn’t consent to you seeing me like this, at this moment.”

he blinks a few times and then tilts his head to the side. “you’re right. sorry. won’t happen again.” he looks around the room before back to you. “all i wanted to do was ask when you expect me to come.”

huh?

what is he even

???

your brow pinch together in confusion and the back of your neck heats up. “uhh…” you blink a few times, wondering if you heard him correctly. “when you’re inside of me..?”

girl..

he idly blinks at you with a soft frown on his brows. his eyes pingpong between yours from left to right, dropping to your lips for a moment before back into your eyes.

his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he speaks again and says, “i was talking about when you expect me to arrive… this weekend. what day. what time.”

oh

OH

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 right!

dumb bitch😭

“oh,” you mumble, heat rising to your cheeks and ears, a slight twitch in your lips. “uh, saturday… saturday at 8pm is fine.”

his tongue peeks out and swipes along his lips again as he stares you down before nodding. “okay. i’ll see you then.”

“yeah,” you reply, voice higher pitched than usual

heart beating a thousand miles a minute

“see you, y/n.” the way your name rolls off his tongue so deliciously whilst he’s still in your proximity, feline eyes staring you down, it all sets your entire body on fire

he looks at you for a moment longer before turning around and heading down the corridor before you hear him shove his feet into his shoes and leave your apartment

ahhhh

your heart won’t stop beating out of your chest

your palms are sweaty

your entire body is on fire

fuck

is this really a good idea?

to be continued.

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Scare Tactics

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader

Summary: Surprisingly, Aaron agreed to a darker roleplay this Halloween.

Warnings: Ghostface role play, scene planning and negotiations, taking about safewords and limits, CNC, stalking, stalker phone calls, fake break-ins, handcuffs, oral (male receiving), deep throating, rough sex, degradation, name calling, slight pet/owner kink mentioned, begging, vibrators, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, domdrop, aftercare

Word Count: 6100

When he gets in that night, it’s late. Pushing midnight, late. That’s not really a shock to her, he’s always got something going on. Between driving his son everywhere he needs to be, working on the PTA and teaching night classes at the local college, Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. Always has been, and always will be.

She’s in bed, scrolling through things on her phone as she waits for him to arrive. She is just catching up on the newest trends and celebrity gossip when she hears his heavy feet coming up the creaky old steps of their century home. While it is a beautiful place to lay low in the middle of nowhere, the sounds it made— especially at night— were insanely creepy.

The TikTok she’s watching doesn’t help either… she’s been listening to creepy Reddit stories and looking at home footage of spooky happenings. The videos she’s seen the most tonight, however, are ghost face videos. Be it thrust traps or couples going to the store to buy a mask to enhance alone time later that night, she’s seen them all.

There’s one on her screen as Aaron opens their door, she quickly locks her phone and looks at him with a guilty smile.

His old profiler ways clock in on the awkwardness right away, “What were you doing?”

“Nothing,” she presses her lips together and shakes her head, pretending she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Wait… were you watching porn?” He asks. Eyes narrowed in on her, waiting to read her reaction.

She laughs, “no? Oh my god? I mean…. It’s not, but it definitely does something to me.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, “well, now you have to tell me?”

She sighs, thinking how she’s going to explain it to him of all people. “You’re going to think I’m insane.”

“Too late,” he teases.

She shoves him, “Seriously, it’s weird… I don’t even like the movies but—

“Oh, you were looking at thirst traps again?” He’s only recently learned that term.

She can’t help but smile, “Yeah… do you know the scream movies?” He nods. “There’s a trend right now where couples are having sex while the dominant partner has the ghost face mask on.”

“It is like a full role play? Breaking in? Phone calls? Knife play?” He asks as if they’re setting boundaries already, planning a kinky scene is something they’ve done a few times. He likes to know all the limits, the expectations and what turns her on about it before they agree to anything.

“Wait, you’d do it?” She asks, sitting up straighter. “Seriously?”

He nods, “if it’s something that’ll get you off, why not?”

She tosses the blankets back and gets to her knees, he pulls her into his lap and holds her by her hips. She cups his face and presses a quick kiss to his lips, “so you don’t think it’s weird?”

He shakes his head, “Not at all… mask kinks are incredibly common.”

“And if I did want you to pretend to stalk me and break in and overpower me…”

“I’d need some prep time, I’ll have to have a free day the next day and Jack can’t be in the house that night,” he explains his boundaries. “I’ll, of course, give you aftercare right after and when you’re okay, we can switch?”

She pets his hair and nods, “Of course, my love. I’ll take the best care of you after. I appreciate everything you’re willing to do for me.”

“You just have to get the mask and maybe we can talk about the specifics of a script or series of events for the night,” he whispers, brushing his nose against hers. “Maybe you can get something new to wear during it?”

She likes the sound of that, but she just has one question. “Black or red?”

—

He gets a burner phone a week before the scene is set to happen. He doesn’t tell her thats what he’s done but when he’s getting ready to leave for work one night he smirks from the closet and says “if you get a phone call from an unknown number… be sure to answer, okay?”

She knows he has a class tonight, he has Introduction to Legal Skills from 6-8 and then Trial Advocacy from 9-11:30. Jack goes to bed around 10:30, so she knows he’ll call sometime after Jack's in bed. Otherwise, he could hear the conversation and either be scared for life knowing his parents had kinky sex or grow concerned that his stepmom had a real stalker after her. And he’s been traumatized enough for a 17-year-old boy.

Sure enough, her phone rings at 11:45 while she’s in the living room, on her phone with the TV on in the background.

“Hello?” She answers, a fake sense of nervousness in her voice.

“What are you watching, Y/N?” He asks, his voice deeper than usual. Almost scarily deep.

“Excuse me?” She can’t believe he’s really doing this. “Who is this?”

“Have you never watched a scary movie before? You should know asking that is a death wish,” he teases. “But you never answered my question.”

“How do you even know I’m watching TV?” She asks, it’s not like the sound is up. She looks out the window to make sure he’s not out there, completely forgetting that they have security cameras inside and he can access them on his real cellphone.

“You’re on the couch, in a cute little black tank top and shorts… aren’t you cold? It’s October.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know a lot more than you think,” he taunts.

“Then shouldn’t I know something about you too?” She asks, turning it back on him. “Don’t you think that’s fair?”

“Hmm… I suppose it would, but isn’t part of the fun all in the mystery?”

“You must know my husband used to be an FBI agent so—

“Ah yes, agent Hotchner,” he laughs. “Retired, haunted, old man, Aaron Hotchner.”

“He can still kick your ass,” she assures. Both scaring this character and stroking his ego at the same time. “And enjoy doing it.”

“We’ll see about that.” He says before hanging up.

It makes shivers run down her spine and all the hair on her body stands tall. If she didn’t know this was actually him, it would be incredibly terrifying. Yet for some reason, she’s more turned on right now than anything.

When he gets home that night, she’s still in the living room. Waiting for him. He puts his bag down, kicks off his shoes and hangs up his coat before making his way over to her and crashing down onto the couch. He lays his head into her lap and she brushes his hair back, “tough class?”

He nods, “they asked so many questions. It’s literally not even that hard.”

“Awe,” she sympathizes. “Not everyone is as smart as you, handsome.”

“How was your night?” He looks up at her with a smile.

“Good, Jack drove us to get some ice cream tonight and he was actually really good at it this time and then I got a weird phone call…”

“Huh,” he raises his brows quickly. “Weird… do you know who it was?”

“No idea.”

“Well, just keep an eye on it,” he advises. The profiler in him wants to say don’t answer the phone again but the game was too fun. He wanted her to answer again, he wanted to tease her, he wanted to make it as real as possible.

This was going to be a fun week.

—

She gets a call every night that week. The calls last anywhere from a minute to 10, depending on how long she can keep him talking in his sexy deep voice. She switches into a cute little night dress before their next conversation and she sits on the couch facing their security camera with the hem of her nightgown pushed up a bit too high… giving him a show.

“So…” she asks, wishing she had an old corded phone to twirl around her fingers. “What do you look like? Are you cute at least?”

He snickers, “That’s your question today? Really?”

“Yep, I mean if you’re going to stalk me and find me and make me yours, you better be hot,” she teases him.

“I’m… average, I guess?” He struggles to compliment himself.

“I figured you wouldn’t be as handsome as my husband…”

He sighs, “I’m going to make you pay for all these comments.”

She laughs, “okay… I’m sure.”

“Taunting a psychopath is never a good—

“That’s a lie, I know from my husband that sometimes taunting them is what they need. Sometimes they’re such losers that this is all an act, pissing them off makes them slip up and expose themself… so is this all an act? Are you secretly a loser who needs attention? What, did your mommy not love you enough growing up? Or was it daddy beating you that made you this way?”

“You’ve got two days,” he reminds her. “I’m going to get you.”

He hangs up and she smirks, she loves riling him up like this. She knows that once he gets his hands on her, once he has that mask on, she’s in for the ride of her life.

—

Sure enough, the Friday before Halloween, Jack heads out to a party and says he’ll be sleeping over at a friend's house that night. His phone is charged, his costume is on and his ride is about to pull up to their driveway.

“You remember you can call either one of us, at any time of the night, and we will come get you,” she reminds him. “No matter what state you’re in… I understand that drinking is something you’ll probably do tonight, and I won’t tell your dad, but go easy. Have water between beers and don’t drink from a cup you didn’t pour yourself or one you left unattended no matter how much time passed. And if you feel weird, uncomfortable or you just want to come home, you call me.”

“I know, Mom,” he assures her, looking at her with that annoyed teenager look.

“And drugs… please, please be careful. Peer pressure is real, being curious is okay, but don’t do anything intense. Smoking copious amounts of weed before the age of 27 can stop your brain from fully forming and other drugs can literally kill you because you have no idea what they’re mixed with—

“Mom, I’m not going to do drugs tonight,” he cuts her off, looking as serious as his father can.

“Okay,” she lets out a deep breath just as the headlights shine through their stained glass front door. “Give me a hug,” she says, arms open and waiting for him.

He steps into her space and holds her tight, “I love you, be safe.”

“I love you too, I’ll text you when I’m on my way home tomorrow.”

“And before you go to bed too, please? Even if its just a heart emoji, I want to know you’re going to bed, I don’t care what time it comes in,” she stares him down before letting him pull away. “I love you.”

“Okay, okay,” he smiles. “I’ve got it, I’m going now. Have a good night.”

“Oh, I will,” she smirks.

“Gross!” He calls out as he heads out the door, skips down the stairs and heads out to his friend's mom's car. She waves at them, gets a wave from the driver back and then they’re gone.

She locks the door once he’s gone, turns off the lights downstairs and heads up to her room where she changes into the new lingerie she bought at Aaron’s request and she lights a few candles around her room. She grabs the mask from her closet as well as a black silk robe and black boxer briefs and she lays them all on the table in the entryway downstairs with a note that says “Wear me.”

She goes to the kitchen and gets them some snacks for after, a couple water bottles and his bottle of scotch with a glass in case that’s what he wants after. He needs to be able to relax and unwind and know he did a good job and he’s not a bad guy for divulging in this role-play for her. If anything, he’s the best man in the world being able to do this for his wife.

And she waits in her room.

The first call she gets is from Aaron, 10 minutes after his class ends.

“Hey baby,” she answers quickly.

“Are we still on for tonight?” He double-checked, making sure nothing had changed between his leaving for work and now.

“Mhm, I’m waiting for Mr. Ghostface to arrive,” she whispers, voice low and dark. Making sure he knows just how ready she is.

“And you remember the safe word?”

She hums again, “I do, and we can both use it, remember?”

“I will if I need to,” he says and she can hear the smile on his face. “Did Jack leave okay?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago,” she assures. “We’re all good to go unless he calls and needs to come home.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Aaron’s positive. “Can you do me a favour?”

“Sure?”

“You put my mask downstairs?”

“I did,” she smirks. “And an outfit…”

“Oh, okay,” he sounds so excited. “Can you put my handcuffs down there too?”

“Are they in the safe?” She double-checks, cause the last time she saw them they were in his bedside drawer…

“They are…”

She gets up from the bed, goes into their closet and presses her thumb to the sensor, he could probably hear the lock click as the door swings open. He has 2 guns and his cuffs right there, sitting on top of their important documents and her most expensive jewelry.

“I’ll leave them downstairs for you,” she says as she takes them out and shuts the safe once more. “Anything else you want?”

“Just you,” he teases.

“okay well, I’ve got another phone call I’m expecting, so I should let you go,” she says while heading back down the stairs.

“Can we just pause for a sec?” He asks.

“Mhm, what’s up?”

“So you still want me to pretend to break in? We’re still doing everything we talked about?” He asks again, obviously nervous.

“Hey, we don’t have to do any of it if you’ve changed your mind?” She assures. “I mean it, we can just do something vanilla tonight, we don’t have to do a scene.”

“I want to make you happy—

“I won’t have fun if you don’t,” she resets the boundaries. “You tell me what you want to do and that’s what we’ll do.”

“I’m going to call you from outside, I’m going to make my way in and I’m going to sneak up the stairs and find you in the bedroom where I’m going to restrain you by cuffing you to the bedpost and have my way with you,” he lays out the series of events. “We’ll have sex, I’ll free you, I’ll take care of you until you calm down and then I would like some cuddles.”

“I have water and snacks in here waiting for us to be done, would you like a bath after?” She asks.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” he says and she can hear him smile again. “Okay, good. Good, we’re ready to go.”

“I love you,” she whispers. “I’m so excited to try this.”

“I love you more,” he reminds her and then he’s off. They say their final goodbye and she heads back upstairs to her room to await her hell prince.

—

She sees his headlights as he pulls into the driveway but she doesn’t hear his door shut, they just go out. That’s when her phone rings again.

“You again,” she teases right away. “Let me guess you know I’m home alone and you just wanna ‘talk’?”

“I just wanted to hear your pretty voice one last time,” he says with his deepest voice, it’s almost a growl.

Chills run down her spine once more. He’s way too good at this.

“What?” She asks, fear on her tongue.

“I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere?”

“You’re right… I’m coming to you.”

The line clicks and all she’s left with is the sound of her heartbeat in her ears… and her panties. Well, lack thereof. This set didn’t really leave much to the imagination. It was perfect to tear off. Easy to cut if need be. And currently, soaked.

Her ears feel like they’re on fire as she tries her hardest to listen to what’s going on downstairs. Either he’s being extra quiet or he’s not in the house yet. But he will be. He’ll change and he’ll climb the stairs and push her door open and take her. And she’ll take him. She’ll take him so good he’ll want to wear this fucking mask all the goddamn time.

And then the stairs of their century home creak, one by one as he climbs them ever so slowly. Slower than ever before. They creek and pop, they whine and echo down the hall towards her bedroom. There are only two times that these stairs sounding this awful are so helpful and it’s during role-plays like this and when their teenager sneaks out at night.

He makes his way down the hallway, towards the bedroom door and he looks through the crack. Mask on, that classic screaming, white face shines through the dark. He pushes the door open, making it squeal on rusty hinges. They really need to fix those.

“Aaron?” She calls out.

“Think again,” he teases, voice muffled behind the mask but still deep.

She scoots up the bed, drawing her knees in closer to her body as she cowers away. Checking him out in the meantime. The way he’s hard in his boxers, how his robe opens to show off his cute tummy and salt and pepper treasure trail… he’s delicious and all hers.

He creeps forward, “Don’t you know the rules to survival in a horror movie?” She shakes her head in fear. “Rule number one, sex equals death.”

“I wasn’t—

“But you were ready for it,” he points at her with his free hand and she notices how he’s gripping his cuffs with the other. He starts to twirl the cuff around his finger while chuckling deep from within. “What a shame he leaves a sexy thing like you home all by yourself most nights…”

“He’ll be home any—

“No, he won’t,” he taunts, and she can hear the smirk on his face. “I’ll be long finished with you by the time he comes back.”

He pounced on the bed, struggled with her to get a cuff on her one wrist and bring them both up to the headboard so he could loop the cuffs around the bars and trap her there. “You’re mine.”

“Please don’t do this,” she begs, trying her hardest to stay in character.

“Boo hoo,” he says, really not giving a shit what she wants or doesn’t. He straddles her waist and walks on his knees until his junk is right there near her face. “You’re going to take what I give you.”

She can’t help sticking her tongue out, wetting the fabric of his boxers as he presses his bulge against her face. Mouth watering, she can smell him under the fragrance of their detergent on his boxers. “Cock drunk already? You’re such a good little slut, no wonder that old man loves you.”

She whines, “Please Mr. Ghostface…”

“Say it,” he growls.

“Let me suck your cock, please? I need it,” she begs this time, watching him pull his boxers down just enough to expose his cock.

It stands tall, he grips himself by the base and taps it against her tongue a few times and she moans before licking at the head and taking him into her mouth. She drags her tongue along the pulsating vein on the underside of his perfect cock. He’s uncut and thick and her mouth is watering by the time she takes him between her lips. She relaxes her jaw, avoids her teeth, and uses her tongue around the head… all things he’s asked her to do for him in the past. This is the only cock she’s sucked and actually enjoyed doing it in her whole life.

The man above her grips her hair tighter and groans, “sweet christ… such a good little slut for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.”

She hums around him, so content already but the praise mixed with the degrading words… fuck, was it ever good? She gains more confidence, sucking this man's cock like her life depends on it. Wet and sloppy, she gets drool all over her chin and it drips down her neck to pool at the pillows but she doesn’t give a fuck. She takes him deeper, letting the man fuck her throat, breathing through her nose with her eyes shut, she gags slightly but it’s bearable, she likes it… Mr. Ghostface really likes it, too, if his moans behind the mask are any indication.

He drags his hand from her hair, down the side of her face and he cups her cheek as he pulls out, hearing her whine. “If I’m going to fuck you, I’m gonna need this back,” he teases.

She whines again, “but, but?” Her voice horse and her breathing heavy.

“But nothing, you’re going to sit there and you’re going to take it like a good little whore I know you are,” he taunts.

Getting off her and the bed, he lets his boxers go and he tosses off the stupid little robe he was wearing to complete the fit. Now naked except for his mask, he pulls her beside drawer open and pulls out her vibrator and the pocket knife she keeps there for… reasons like the time she couldn’t get the knots undone when she restrained him once.

He tosses the vibe on the bed and flips the blade out of the pocket knife. She squirms, “What are you going to do with that?”

“Cut these new panties off you… never saw these in the drawer the last time I was in here,” he says, building the story more.

“You’ve…you’ve been in my home before?”

He nods, “many times.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” she spits at him.

“Mhm and you’re going to love it,” he says as he climbs back between her legs.

He drags the tip of the blade from her stomach to her hip, down her thigh and back up. “Look at the way you quiver for me, how eager you are to spread your legs… don’t tell me your FBI boyfriend taught you to just give it up like this?”

“Husband,” she corrects him.

“Boring,” he taunts. “Husbands are useless, you get boring sex and boring conversations and then they die.”

He slips the blade under the elastic on her hip and starts to cut it off. Slowly, she feels the fabric snap apart and exposes her to him. He grips the hem on her other hip and pulls her panties off the one leg he didn’t destroy. He flings them off and tosses the knife onto her bedside table but he tosses it too hard and it slides all the way off, behind the table and almost takes the lamp out with it. “Oops,” he laughs from deep within.

He takes the vibrator back in his hand and turns it on, “I can’t eat you out without showing you my face, so I guess I’m going to have to make you cum a few times with this…”

“Fuck,” she whines, legs spread as she arches closer to the sound of the buzzing.

On the lowest setting, he drags the head of the vibe over her inner thigh and over her hip bone. Up her stomach and then onto her hardened nipple. She whines again, “please? Please Mr. Ghostface?”

He hums, “Be patient, slut.”

He runs it over her other nipple, watching as she tosses her head back and bites her lip, hard. She tugs at the cuffs, making them click against the metal bed poles as she soots down the bed, trying to get closer to him, begging for some friction where she needs it most.

He slowly brings the vibe back down her body and presses it to her clit a bit roughly, he presses the button to speed it up, putting it on the second speed and hearing her yelp. “oh my god?” She grinds against it, “holy fuck.”

“Don’t be afraid to make some noise, we’re all alone here tonight,” he assures. “And if we’re not… if your husband walks in on us I want him to hear how much of a slut you’ve been for me. Let him know what you want can’t be achieved by him.”

She moans again, it’s oddly hot pretending to cheat on him… he leans in closer to her, holding the vibe to her clit as he hovers over her. She leans forward, wanting to kiss him even though he’s in a mask, she whines, “Need you,” she whispers. “Please?”

“Cum for me first,” he says, shaking his head. “I want you soaked and trembling when I slip into you. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll un-cuff you for it.”

“Oh god,” she arches her hips again, pressing herself against the vibrator even more, “Oh please?”

“Close already?” He teases, pressing the button again so it can go as fast as possible. “Go on whore, you can do it. Cum for me.”

Her thighs are absolutely trembling as she gets closer. With her eyes tightly shut and her jaw dropped, she lets out breathy moans and rides the head of the vibrator. He’s so close to her, pressed to her side with his hard cock resting on her hip, “you’re doing so good, baby, come on, it’s right there,” he praises her, letting his character slip a bit.

She accidentally says his name as the dam breaks, she cums with a quake, “Oh my god, oh fuck,” she whines as he keeps holding the vibrator to her clit and she can’t pull away from him.

He snickers, “There she is, I love that noise you make when you cum on this thing.”

“How—

“You keep asking stupid questions,” he cuts her off. “What part of I’ve been stalking you can’t you get through your thick skull?”

“Please, please stop?” She begs. “S’too much.”

He pulls back just for a second, causing her to sigh and then he presses the vibrator right back to her. “You really thought I’d let you stop at just one? When I know you like to cum at least 3 times… that’s why you got this toy, isn’t it? Cause that old man you’re shackled to can’t go more than one round without getting tired.”

“Fuck you,” she spits, whining and grinding against the toy in her overstimulation.

“Oh, you will,” he whispers. “I’m going to get you all pliant and dumb and then I’m going to flip you over and fuck you senseless like the little pet that you are. Maybe I’ll even keep you forever? Get you a cute little collar and a leash and make you mine.”

She moans again, bucking her hips towards the feeling, he knows it takes her a bit longer to get to the second one sometimes. So he keeps talking. “I know just how much you like that, being fucked in doggy. You like being held down, feeling my balls clap against your ass while I fuck you deep and hard. When I push my weight against you… and when I wrap my hand around your throat to draw you in for a kiss.”

She doesn’t give any warning, she just comes right then and it’s clearly a shock to her too. She shakes like mad and not a single coherent sound leaves her mouth. She’s completely wrecked, cock-drunk and ready for more. He turns off the vibrator and lets her relax for just a moment, he runs his hand over her stomach and up to her boobs, cupping it and rubbing his thumb over her nipple, making her twitch again. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you…”

She just nods, trying to catch her breath, she can’t find any words to say.

“If I un-cuff you, are you going to run away?” He asks, watching her shake her head. “Didn’t think so… not like you could with your jello legs.”

She smiles, full of euphoria, “yeah…”

He heads over to his own nightside table, the key is in a little dish where he puts his watch and ring at night. Although, his ring is downstairs tonight, to add to the ambiance that this is a stranger fucking her and not her husband in a mask.

He’s quick to get her out of the cuffs and he soothes over the ache in her wrists. “You okay?” He asks, his voice soft and low, breaking character slightly.

She nods, “you? It’s not too hot in there?”

“It’s fine,” he nods too. “Ready?”

She lets him roll her over, he gets her on her knees with her ass in the air and pushes her face into the pillow. “It’s time for the ride of your life.”

He taps his cock against her ass cheek, making it jiggle. He loves her curves and her flub and the way she shakes and jiggles and how he has all this skin to hold onto while he fucks her like this. He grips her cheeks, spreading them apart to see how much of her cum has slipped down from one hole to the other, she’s glistening and wet and so, so ready for him to fuck her. He grinds his cock between her folds, using her slick to coat himself and glide back and forth, teasingly, before he sticks it in.

He doesn’t give any warning, he simply rams his cock into her, making her gasp. “Oh, you feel better than I imagined…” He pulls out slightly and slams back inside again and again, not giving her any time adjust to it. “Been obsessed with the idea of fucking this pussy from the moment I first laid eyed on you. Knew you’d take me so well.”

She whines into the pillow, reaching her hand back, he holds it and goes to reach for the other. Holding both her hands, making her hold herself up with her core muscles as he fucked into her. Her tits dangle and shake with the force of his thrusts, she makes the most whorish moans and gasps. When she gets tired, she pushes her face back into the mattress and arches her back even more.

She mumbles into the pillow and he grips her hair, pulling her back, “what?”

“Harder!” She eggs him on.

Chuckling, “Such a good whore…” he teases. He reaches for the vibrator and turns it on. He slips it underneath her and he pushes on her back so that she can grind against it as he fucks her harder. Absolutely ramming into her, she goes feral for it. Making noises he hasn’t ever heard from her before as the bed hits the wall at a jackhammering rhythm.

She grips the sheets like her life depends on it, drooling into the mattress where her face is pressed, she screams as he hits her cervix hard. She’s so close, he can feel it by the way she clenches and sucks in him deeper, the sounds she’s making and the way she trembles. It’s intoxicating. He’s fucking addicted to it. He’s going to need to do this to her more often if she likes it this much…

She feels so good, but it’s everything else that’s got him so close to cumming deep inside of her. His rhythm changes as he gets closer. He ruts against her faster, making her ass shake even more as he chases his high. He’s breathing heavily, at a loss for words, but he knows how much she gets off on his voice. “Right there,” he pants. “Right fucking there, take it. Take it, whore. Oh, fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good for me.”

She says his name again, chanting it this time, “Aar!” She screams as she cums for the 3rd time tonight.

He fucks her through it, right there with her. He can feel her getting wetter than ever before like she’s managed to squirt and that gets him. He starts to cum, feeling it rush through his body as he fills her up. She lets out another moan, feeling him fuck his cum deeper into her a few times before he drops down onto her. She’s strong enough to push herself up and scoot up a bit so she’s not trapped on top of the vibrator and they both sigh. He takes off the mask and throws it to the side, slipping out of her, he lays on her side with his arm slung around her. She turns to the side, crawls over him and cups his face in her hands. She kisses him, hard. His hands roam her back as she swipes her tongue over his bottom lip, silently asking for more.

She’s always been a kisser during sex, it really killed her to not be able to kiss him during that. It was so hot… it was everything she wanted and now it was her turn to thank him. She pushes his sweaty hair back and hums into his mouth, she kisses the side of his lips and then his jaw over to his ear. “That was everything…”

“I did good?” He asks, fucked out and dropping slowly.

“So, so good, baby,” she praises. “I loved every second of it. You’re so good to me, you always do what I ask for. I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispers back, holding her closer with his big hands cradling her back. She kisses his neck once more and goes to sit up but he wants to cuddle just a little longer. “Stay.”

“Okay,” she rests against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. “We’ll clean up when you’re ready.”

He runs his fingers up and down her back, she traces a heart over his chest with her nail and smiles. She’s so relaxed, so tired and so, so happy to be with him. “You’re amazing, Aar-bear.”

“You’re… you’re everything,” he says at a loss for words. “I can’t believe how loud you got?”

She laughs, a little embarrassed, “well, we usually have a kid in the house so I can’t get like that… and if we hit his wall like that at night he’d lose his mind.”

Aaron laughs, “Yeah, I’ve gotta check and see if we chipped the paint…”

“When he goes to college we’ll have to put some foam on the back of the headboard,” she teases. “We can fuck like this all the time next year.”

He lets out a sigh, “Yeah… we definitely need to do more role plays.”

“And you can pick them too, you know?” She says, sitting up to look at him. “Anything you want, we’ll do that next.”

“Right now I just want to have a bath with you and then change the sheets and go to sleep,” he says with a smile.

“Okay,” she agrees. She gets up carefully, a little sore and she’s definitely going to be feeling it tomorrow… she takes the vibe off the bed and finally turns it off, throwing it back into her night table to worry about later. There’s a huge wet spot on the bed where it was. “Did I…”

He smirks, “I think you did… it was hot.”

“Wow,” she’s shocked and amazed.

“You go start the bath, I’ll strip the sheets,” he offers. “Put in whatever you want.”

“Do you want a drink?” She asks. “I brought your scotch up, too.”

“You really are the most perfect woman,” he praises with a smile.

She picks up his mask from the floor, it landed pretty close to where her underwear ended up. She gathers all their clothes and tosses them into the dirty laundry, but his mask… his mask goes into the closet where it will stay until they need it again.

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch

Ghostface Hotch

@hotchsbookshelf @hotchsdoormat @emberfrostlovesloki

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

[that-enby-witch]

Witchy Resources

Astrology

Cafe Astrology - does your birth chart and it’s presented in a really cute way imo. It also gives you info about each placement and you can check compatibility and stuff too

Co—Star - I downloaded is the other day, it gives you quick daily horoscopes, do’s and dont’s for the day, and a longer breakdown of the horoscope

Dream work

Little Book of Dreams - I got this at a local store but you can get it for £4. It’s really cute and small, with just little summaries for what common dreams mean. It’s very simple but good for beginners in dream work

Deity worship (These are specific to Hellenism. You don’t have to worship Greek deities to be a witch but it’s what I have resources on because it’s what I follow)

Wikipedia - no seriously. It has info on so many different deities and their mythology so it’s actually quite useful.

r/Hellenism - a good place to ask questions if you’re new to deity worship and get some SPG on less common deities. Be sure to fact check

Amino - there’s a couple of Greek mythology and Hellenist communities on here. Like with Reddit, fact check!

Theoi.com - so much basic info on various deities, and it’s got epithets and things too that Wikipedia doesn’t have.

Tarot

Nata Soul Taro - probably the best pick a pile tarot readers I’ve found on YouTube. she also has a website and does personal readings. The videos are very calming and often really accurate

Zodianz - gives you three tarot cards and their meanings. Includes whether they’re yes or no, zodiac signs, planets and elements that correspond with each card, keywords for the card and then a short paragraph about the meaning. It also gives the meaning of the numbers in the card (like in 8 cups it tells you about 8)

If anyone knows any websites where you can learn tarot meanings let me know and I’ll add them to this list

Spell work

The Works - if you’re British, The Works has a lot of trinket boxes that you can keep spell ingredients in, and some potion bottles which are meant for crafts but they’re perfect for spell jars

Witchipedia - has some basic info about spells and some simple ones that you can do without needing many tools. Perfect for broom closeted witches, beginners or witches who can’t afford fancy stuff.

@strangesigils has some posts on common sigil methods, or, you can use some of their existing sigils!

Shadow work

Pinterest - I’m not kidding Pinterest has some great shadow work prompts if you just type in shadow work. Some are meh and some are really good

Co—Star - as well as astrology this also has a section where you can write a message to yourself and it’ll pop up the next time the stars are in the same position as they were when you wrote it

Crystal work

Holly’s Hope Beads - handmade crystal jewellery! My mum knows the girl who owns it and I’ve gotten a few pieces here. Really pretty and good quality

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch #pagan #paganism #hellenism #greek deities #tarot #astrology #co star #shadow work #crystals #crystal work #witchy things #witch resources #witchcraft websites #beginner witch #baby witch

[chaosmagicss]

little white lies (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: wanda, the prettiest girl to ever walk into your work and order a coffee, is a terrible liar. you don’t have the heart to tell her.

warnings: wanda’s a bad liar but it’s okay bc she’s cute, mentions of bruising, basically just fluff, a teeny bit of hurt/comfort bc i can’t resist

words: 5.2k

a/n: sometimes you just need to write a cute little borderline-coffee-shop-au to feel something.

You meet Wanda Maximoff when she walks into your work at 2pm on a Wednesday and orders an iced latte.

Unsurprisingly, you make a fool of yourself, but who can blame you when she looks like that? You read the name on the cup, thinking pretty name when you call it out. As you approach the counter, you look up, and stupidly, the first thing to come out of your mouth when your eyes lock onto bright green eyes is, “Pretty face.”

The girl, Wanda, blushes and smiles - and wow - and your own face is warm as she says a soft, “Thank you.” You blink rapidly, eyes stuck on hers because dear lord even her voice is pretty. Your fingers clench around the plastic cup, and when the last thirty seconds finally catch up to you, you shake your head, eyes closing.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you fumble, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Wanda’s smile grows, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s alright,” she says, and god, that accent… Russian? Something Eastern European, definitely. “It’s flattering.”

You open your mouth to respond, say anything to keep this conversation going, when an excited little boy holding onto his mother’s hand points to the television in the corner and exclaims, “Look, Mom! Avengers!”

Immediately, everyone’s attention is drawn to the television. Even most adults - including yourself - aren’t immune to it. There’s a blurry video playing on screen, showing what looks like a woman flinging around bits of rubble all covered in a red sort of glow. The video steadies for a second as the girl turns around, seemingly to check on whatever group of bystanders she was protecting, and the face you can just make out looks suspiciously like…

You turn back to Wanda, and find an empty space.

She’s gone, her coffee still in your hand. You do a quick scan of the coffeehouse and as much of the street as you can see, and you find nothing. Damn it. You sigh softly, putting the coffee aside just in case she comes back before turning to the next customer.

Once you get back to your dorm, mind racing, you find yourself crawling into a hole on the Internet of videos and reddit threads on the Avengers’ newest recruits, of which two have been announced – James Rhodes, War Machine, army colonel; Sam Wilson, the Falcon, ex-pilot – and two who have yet to even be figured out by the general public. One of them, a young man, is lightning-fast, and the other is the young woman seen on the news earlier.

The deeper you dive, the more sure you become that the woman is Wanda, the prettiest girl you’ve ever served coffee.

Miraculously, she comes back to the coffeehouse two days later. Your heart skips when the middle-aged man steps away after paying and you see her there, a shy little smile on her face and, worryingly, a bruise on her cheek. You manage to get through this order without embarrassing yourself, but when she tries to pay for her coffee, you deny her.

“You left your last one here,” you reason, “this one’s on the house.”

“Oh,” she stammers, cheeks flushing again. “I - I couldn’t—”

“Really, it’s fine,” you insist. “It’s, like, 5 bucks outta my paycheck. I’ll live.”

She tilts her head a little. “I thought you said it was on the house.”

You frown, leaning both hands against the counter as you feign thoughtfulness, and Wanda smiles. “No, I’m not sure I did,” you say, looking back to her. “Definitely said it was on me.”

Wanda huffs a laugh. “Well, in that case, I definitely can’t accept it.”

You click your tongue, taking her card from her when she holds it out to you. Your eyes flick to the bruise again, and curiosity gets the better of you. “What happened?” you ask, waving a hand towards your own cheek.

Wanda blinks, confused for a moment, before, “Oh, Nat—” She stops, eyes widening just a fraction, and you smother a smile. One of the Avenger’s newest recruits is a terrible liar, so it seems. “—alie… Natalie. My boxing instructor. Personal trainer. She - I didn’t duck in time. Total accident.”

You nod, choosing not to comment on the deep flush on her cheeks or the way she’s looking anywhere but you, rocking anxiously on the heels of her feet. You take the chance to pay for her coffee while she’s not paying attention; what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Well, you might wanna tell Natalie to start pulling her punches,” you say, bringing your eyes back to hers as you slide her latte across the counter. “Can’t have her messing up a pretty face like yours.”

The comment earns you something similar to a squeak. You don't blame her; you honestly can’t believe the words came out of your mouth, let alone that steadily. Wanda - not the Avenger - nods, reaching out to swipe her coffee from the bench. “I’ll - I’ll let her know,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “I - uh, bye.”

You smile. “See ya.”

She’s back again the next day. The coffeehouse is mulling with only a handful of patrons; the ones that usually stick around until closing, and you’re so focused on watching the news that clearly shows that the new woman on the Avengers’ line-up is Wanda that you fail to notice she’s approaching the counter.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin. An amused smile tugs at her lips, and it takes a moment for you to pull yourself together. “Hey. Hi. Sorry. I, uh—” You throw the washrag out of sight, wipe your hands on your apron, and give her a winning smile. “What can I do ya for?”

She twists her lips, nails drumming against the countertop. “Uh, actually, I’m not here for coffee.” You frown, and she smiles just a little. “I was wondering, would you like to hang out? If you’re free, that is. Tonight, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not. I just - I’m new to the city and I kinda… need a friend. That isn’t my brother. That’s what Steve said, anyway.”

Ah, yes. Steve. Another person that Wanda knows who, miraculously, has the same name as one of the world’s most famous superheroes but isn’t at all involved with the Avengers, because Wanda isn’t. Clearly.

You smile at her, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I’d love to,” you confirm. “Hang out tonight, that is.” Wanda blushes, but lets out a relieved little chuckle, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders. “I finish up in about 15. Wait for me?”

“Yeah,” Wanda says. “Yeah, sure.”

-

For the next two months, hanging out with Wanda becomes at least a weekly thing. She meets you at your work after your shift to accompany you back to your dorm or she just meets you there, and the two of you hang out for hours. You show Wanda your favourite movies and have nights where you binge old sitcoms that Wanda adores. You go for walks through the closest park or find some diner to have dinner in after you see a movie. It quickly becomes your favourite part of the week, and if you aren’t together, you’re talking to her by some means. Ellie, your roommate, has taken to calling her your girlfriend, and the comment makes you blush every time, which is probably the reason she’s so keen on making it.

Wanda’s excuses and poor attempts at a cover up just get worse and worse as it goes on, but she never bites the bullet and just tells you that she’s actually a superhero, always finding some workaround whenever you make a leading comment. Maybe it should annoy you, but it really just… doesn’t.

Wanda is Wanda; it doesn’t matter to you that she’s an Avenger, or that she’s so adamant about hiding it. What worries you is the scrapes and bruises she has almost every time you see her, ones that she brushes off whenever you ask about them. The thought of someone hurting her twists your insides up despite the fact that she can very clearly take care of herself, if the shaky footage circling Twitter is any indication.

Your first ever real panic over it is the week that she just stops responding to your texts. It isn’t rare for her to take a day or so to respond to you, but when you text her asking if she wants to come over that weekend and the message goes unanswered for three days, you sort of start to freak out.

Even Ellie seems sort of worried, even though she does what she can to convince you that Wanda’s fine.

It’s the fifth day of no contact, and you’re trying to study in the library, distracted by the TV mutely playing a news coverage of the Avengers’ latest public escapade in Brazil, when your phone rings. You glance at it, prepared to just hang up and wait until later to call whoever it is back, but when Wanda’s caller ID is what you see, you practically leap for your phone.

“Hello?”

A few people around you lift their heads to give you a dirty look, but you pay them no mind, your heart pounding with an overwhelming emotion that you don’t really have a name for.

“Hi,” Wanda says, and your breath leaves you in a relieved rush, because she’s there and she’s okay. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you, not on purpose, I just got caught up with a family emergency and there wasn’t any reception where we were and I feel like an asshole—”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in. “It’s okay. As long as you’re safe. You’re okay, right? You aren’t hurt?”

“I—” There’s a pause, a sharp little intake of breath. “Yeah, no,” she fumbles out, and suddenly she sounds exhausted. “I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. No one’s hurt.”

“Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. That’s good.”

A few seconds of silence, and then, “Do you, uh, still want to do something this weekend? It’s - it’s fine, if not.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “‘Course I do. Wanna come ‘round on Sunday? Just after midday?”

“Sounds good,” Wanda says softly.

“You sound tired,” you tell her. She hums softly, but says nothing. “You should get some sleep.”

She breathes in, out. “I like listening to your voice. Can you talk, or are you busy?”

You look at your desk, at the notebook and your laptop, and you know you should probably get this done now so you don’t have to worry about it later, but you also know you won’t get a drop of work done if you know talking with Wanda until she falls asleep was the alternative. So, still ignoring the annoyed looks being sent your way, you press your phone to your ear with your shoulder and scramble to pack your things away.

“I can talk,” you say. “What d’you wanna talk about?”

“Anything,” she replies. “Tell me a story from when you were growing up.”

She’s asleep by the time you get back to your dorm, after you’ve switched the call to a FaceTime, and you only hang up the phone once you’re getting into bed yourself.

The next day, when you walk into your dorm room after an evening-run, Ellie practically jumps you, shooting off the small couch. “Dude, have you seen what’s trending on Twitter?”

You frown, sitting on the small stool by the door so you can pull off your shoes. “Uh, no? Why, what is it?”

“Your girlfriend’s an Avenger!”

You’re on your feet in an instant, pulling her away from the doorway so you can shut the door, because she’s talking so loud. “What? What are you talking about?”

She shoves her phone in your face, and sure enough, the Daily Bugle’s latest tweet shows a photo of Wanda, headline reading “EXCLUSIVE: The two previously unnamed Avengers are Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Sokovian orphans.”

You blow out a breath, pushing down Ellie’s phone. Your heart is pounding. “Daily Bugle reported it. You know half their shit isn’t true.”

“It’s been up for, like, an hour. The New York Times posted it too. And CNN. It’s her, dude.” You clench your jaw, watch as Ellie starts to scroll through whatever article she’s reading. “Jesus. A Stark bomb blew up her apartment in Sokovia when she was a kid. Killed her parents. She and her brother volunteered for human experimentation a few years ago… HYDRA operating as SHIELD until Captain America blew it all to shit—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say sharply, snatching her phone out of her hand. Ellie lets out an affronted Hey! but you barely pay her any mind, pushing a hand back through your hair as you throw her phone onto the couch.

There’s a few seconds of silence before, “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“She didn’t tell me, but I - I had my suspicions. But she didn’t - it didn’t seem like it was something she wanted to talk about, so I never brought it up. She’s been through a lot of shit, Ellie, it’s awful that it’s just - out there, for everyone to read.”

“Okay,” Ellie relents, sitting on her bed. “Okay. Alright. I won’t read anymore. It’s probably gonna be taken down in like, a minute, anyway.” You nod, unable to meet her eyes. “Are you gonna… maybe you should call her.”

You blink, snapping yourself out of your head. “I, uh, yeah, I’ll text her. Just gonna have a quick shower, ‘cause I stink.”

You do as much, sending her a quick, call me when you can? hope you’re okay before stepping into the shower. You check your phone as you dry yourself off, heart twisting strangely when you don’t see any notifications from her. You sigh, pulling on your comfy clothes before stepping back into the main room.

“It got taken down,” Ellie says immediately. “Stark’s people are on it, dude. It’s literally disappearing as quickly as it comes up.”

Before you can respond, three knocks come to the door, rapid and almost panicked. You pull the door open the second you reach it, and your heart drops when you see Wanda on the other side of it.

And Jesus, she looks - she looks like a mess. Her eyes are brimming with tears, her whole body trembling. There’s a nasty bruise decorating the curve of her jaw and her left eyebrow is stitched up. Her face is blotchy from crying, her lips pulled into a pout as she tries to fight off another onslaught of tears.

She sucks in an uneven breath, and the sound snaps you out of your shock.

“Hey,” you fumble out, reaching for her wrist to pull her inside, and she all but falls into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as sobs escape her, making her shoulders jolt. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Sorry,” she gasps. “I’m sorry. I just - someone found out and spread it around and now everybody knows and, and, it’s all over the news. They know about mama and papa and the bomb, and I just - I don’t know—”

“It’s alright,” you ease, closing the door before smoothing a hand over her back. “It’s fine. Just breathe, alright? Match my breathing. Can you do that?”

She nods, fingers tightening in the back of your shirt as she hides against your shoulder, taking slow, deep breaths against you. Your eyes catch Ellie’s from where she’s sitting on her bed, her face pulled together in concern. Wanda takes her first steady breath, and leans further into you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that,” you tell her, leaning back. Wanda lets you go, albeit reluctantly, wiping at her face with her sleeves.

“Can I - I mean - is it okay if… if I stay the night?” she asks, watery green eyes peering up into yours. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

You nod gently, tucking an escaped strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Of course. Do… does someone know where you are?” She nods. “Okay.” You turn to face your roommate to find she’s already packing a bag. “Oh, Ellie, you don’t have to—”

“No, dude, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ll go stay in Harry’s room. Don’t stress. And I won’t - I won’t tell anyone. Obviously.”

Wanda swallows thickly. “Ellie, I’m - I’m sorry.”

Ellie flashes her a smile. “Really, it’s no biggie. I’ll be back in the morning, yeah? Lemme know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Wanda nods, and Ellie gives you the both of you a quick thumbs up before slipping out into the hall. Wanda exhales heavily, leaning back against your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, gently urging her back so you can lift your hands to her face, closely assessing the stitch on her brow. Worry makes your heart pound again; you know that bruises and bumps are apart of her job description, but knowing that doesn’t make seeing it any easier.

Wanda bites her lip, lifts a hand to grab yours, gentle fingers curling around your wrist. “It’s okay,” she whispers, “it’s not as bad as it looks. Doctor Cho stitched it up so I didn’t accidentally open it again. That’s all.”

You nod softly, pressing under her chin and angling her face so you can see the colourful bruise painting her jaw. Carefully, you brush your fingers over the skin, and Wanda shivers a little at the touch.

“That one feels as bad as it looks,” she whispers, and suddenly, with your fingers running feather-light over the bruise again, you’re smacked in the face with the urge to kiss it better. Wanda jolts a little in place, eyes snapping to yours with flushed cheeks, a barely audible, “Oh,” slipping past her lips.

Quickly, you drop your hand, thinking you must have hurt her. “Sorry,” you murmur.

Wanda shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

You swallow thickly, eyes dropping back to hers, and Wanda blinks slowly up at you. Your heart starts to pound for a whole different reason. You lick at your bottom lip, shake away the inappropriate thought and avert your eyes as you take her hand in yours and start to lead her towards your side of the room.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, as she’s sitting on the bed. “I didn’t - Ellie didn’t have to go.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, stepping over to your closet to find a pair of shorts for her. “If she minded, she would’ve said so. It’s fine. Promise.” Wanda works her jaw, catching your eyes as you hand her the clothes. “Go on. Get changed. I’ll put on a sitcom.”

She swallows thickly, then nods, quietly ducking into the bathroom. You grab the blanket off Ellie’s bed to steal for the night, turning off the lights and setting up The Dick Van Dyke Show on your laptop. Wanda comes out of the bathroom a minute or two after you’ve finished, fingers twisting together anxiously as she hesitates. Your eyes drag over her, briefly appreciating the sight of her in your clothes before giving her a small smile, lifting the blanket invitingly with a quiet, “C’mere.”

Wanda takes a breath before scooting into bed, and you push back against the wall to give her as much space as the twin sized bed allows. Wanda, however, has other plans. You’re only a few minutes into the episode when she rolls to face you, grabbing your waist to urge you closer until she can hide against you. You slip an arm under her head, her hair tickling your arm as she tangles your legs. The closeness takes your breath away, and you struggle to keep your heart beating regularly as Wanda settles with a small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers for what must be the hundredth time.

You swallow hard. “What for?”

“Everything,” she says. “Not telling you who I was, mostly.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “If… if I’m being honest, I sort’ve already knew.”

Wanda pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed in confusion, and god your faces are so close. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean, like, I knew you were an Avenger.”

Her furrowed brow deepens. “How?”

You smile a little. “Well, first off, you’re a pretty terrible liar.” Wanda scoffs, fingers digging into your side until you squirm away from her. She gives up almost immediately, grabbing you to keep her close to her. “And second, there were way too many coincidences - you being from Sokovia, you always having some sort of minor injury, the fact that you know people named Nat and Steve and Sam, and I just… I dunno. I had a feeling.” She hums, hiding her face again, and that’s the only reason you have the courage to let the next words slip out of your mouth. “Plus, you’re, like, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A few grainy Twitter videos can’t hide that.”

She doesn’t say anything in response to that, just burrows further into you, holds you a little tighter, and your heart thumps solidly enough in your chest that you're sure she can feel it. You fall into an easy silence for a little while, Wanda just breathing against you while you watch the sitcom playing quietly on your laptop screen.

“So, you’re not…” She shifts, tilts her face so her voice isn’t as muffled. “You’re not scared of me?”

The question catches you off guard. You frown, pulling back and looking at her once you can. She bites into her lip, eyes skirting your face. “Scared of you?” you echo. “Why would I be scared of you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I just… I’ve got all these powers that I don’t understand. I feel like a walking timebomb. If I feel anything too strongly, I lose control. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t be scared of me.”

You smile, albeit a little sadly. “Well, I’m not. At all.”

Wanda frowns a little, brow creasing. “And you’re not upset I lied? Or, I guess, tried to?”

“Nope.” She blinks, lips pulling down into a curious little pout, and you have the urge to kiss it away. After a few moments of watching you like she’s trying to decipher if you’re being honest or not, she sighs and tucks her head back under your chin, her fingers curling into the back of your shirt. You swallow thickly, smooth a hand over her back as she takes a breath. “You wanna sleep?”

She hums an affirmative. “Can we keep the show on? Have it on while we sleep?”

You nod, and without even really thinking, tilt your head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She sighs again, almost in relief, and the sound of the show's laugh track fills the silence that falls between you. “I like this episode,” she whispers.

You breathe a tiny laugh, arm tightening around her waist. “You’re so weird,” you murmur affectionately. Wanda giggles, and the sound warms your chest, glad that you’ve pulled one out of her.

She falls quiet, then, and you find yourself getting pulled into the old sitcom. You play absentmindedly with her hair, despite the slightly awkward angle that the action puts your wrist at, and you don’t even realise she’s asleep until you’ve watched three episodes and you go to ask her if she wants to turn it off. You go still when you notice, heart leaping when Wanda lets out a disgruntled grunt against you, burrowing further into your shoulder to close the small distance you’d created when you tried to get her attention.

You blink, freezing momentarily. And then, with a soft grunt of effort, you close the laptop and manage to shift it onto the windowsill behind your bed. Wanda grumbles again at the movement, half asleep as she mumbles something under her breath, something you’re not sure was in English.

You swallow dryly as you settle again, smooth a hand over her shoulders, and whisper a barely audible, “Sorry.” Wanda lets out another small hum, still asleep, and sighs.

As she nuzzles into you, her body relaxing against you, you know you love her.

The realisation hits you all at once, and surprisingly, all you feel is a sense of contentment.

You love Wanda Maximoff.

You take a deep breath, breathe in the smell of her shampoo, and let your eyes fall shut.

-

When you wake the next morning, it’s only because Wanda is slipping out of your hold. You grumble tiredly at the disruption, missing the warmth of her against you, and Wanda freezes on the edge of the bed, turning over her shoulder to look at you. You hum, manage a tired smile. “G’mornin’,” you mumble.

“Hi,” Wanda says, voice raspy with sleep, cheeks flushing. “Sorry. I tried not to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” you dismiss, rolling onto your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I’m a light sleeper.” Wanda hums again, stretching her arms above her head, and you have to force yourself not to look at the skin that shows as the shirt rides up. You swallow dryly, watch as she starts to pull her sneakers on. “What time is it?”

“10,” she says softly. “I was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Wanda nods. “How…?”

“Nat’s downstairs.” You blink, rub some of the sleep out of your eyes as you push to sit up and crawl out of bed.

“I’ll walk you down,” you mutter, “just gimme a sec.”

Ten minutes later, you’re approaching a sleek black corvette, holding the hand of one Avenger while another waits in the driver’s seat of said black corvette. A tinted window slides down, and your legs almost give out. Wanda’s fingers tighten around yours at the shaky breath you let out.

Natasha fucking Romanoff pushes her sunglasses atop of her head and addresses Wanda with an unreadable look. “You know, it took me two hours to convince Steve not to send the whole compound on a city-wide search for you.”

Wanda sighs softly. “I told you—”

“You were at a friend’s dorm, I know.” Her eyes dart to you. “I take it you’re said friend?”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you fumble for a response. “Y-yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

Natasha grins, then, gaze shifting back to Wanda. “Cute,” she says, and then she pulls her sunglasses back down. “Alright. Let’s go; we gotta stop for groceries on the way home.”

Wanda nods, and turns to face you, thumb stroking over your knuckles. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For, well, everything.”

You shrug, give her a tiny smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” you reply. Wanda gives you a look, and your smile widens. Your eyes drift back down to her bruise; it’s only gotten worse overnight, more purple and you’re certain, more painful. You click your tongue a little, lifting your hand to so, so delicately, tip her chin up so you can get a proper look at it. “That looks sore.”

“It’s not my first bruise, believe it or not,” she says jokingly, but a little breathless. Her cheeks are flushed, you realise, pupils dilated as she looks at you. You swallow dryly, shift your hand up to push a loose strand behind her ear.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you make the whole beat-up look work.”

Wanda huffs, and you drop your hand, grinning along with her. She twists her lips thoughtfully after a moment, blinking slowly, and then she leans in close and, in what you’re sure was an attempt at stopping your heart, presses a kiss dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. She leans back just enough to look at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and your mouth, squeezes your fingers. “I’ll talk to you later?”

You clear your throat and manage a nod, brain spinning, that thought ever so persistent in your mind again: Kiss her.

Wanda’s face shifts, then, brows pulling together in seriousness. “Y/N,” she says, voice hardly a whisper. You hum in acknowledgement, willing the thought away, but unable to tear your eyes away from the soft pink flesh of her mouth as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Her hand slides from yours only so she can cup your face, and your heart skips as she blinks up at you, a nervous little grin tugging up one corner of her mouth. “You know I can read minds, right?”

Your jaw drops. “You - you what?”

She huffs a laugh. “I can read minds,” she says again, stepping in so close you’re practically pressed flush together. “It’s not always on purpose; if the thought is loud enough and you aren’t hiding it, I can’t really help it.” Your cheeks are burning, but Wanda’s smile isn’t teasing, just adoring. “And if I have to hear you think about kissing me without you doing anything about it one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Oh,” you say, and Wanda hums, hands sliding down to rest lazily against the sides of your neck, her thumbs stroking your jaw. You swallow hard, looking down at her mouth when her tongue darts out to dampen it. “I—” You clear your throat, eyes darting briefly to the car. “The Black Widow is right there.”

Wanda grins, shakes her head a little and leans in so close you can feel her breath on your lips, practically taunting you. “It’s not like she’s gonna ground me,” she whispers.

Your desire to not embarrass yourself in front of every 20-something girl’s childhood hero has nothing on your desire to kiss Wanda Maximoff, so you throw your nerves to the curb and lean in to kiss her.

It’s soft and sweet; your hands find her waist, and you know only a second into the kiss that the feeling of Wanda’s mouth on yours is the only thing you’re going to be thinking about for the rest of your life. Wanda breaks away all too soon for your liking, a blush on her cheeks and a flustered little grin on her lips. You can’t imagine you look much different.

You drop your hands as Wanda does, stuffing them instead into your pocket. Wanda giggles, and takes a few steps towards the car. “Okay. Okay, I’ve gotta…”

You nod. “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

She bites her lip to try and hide her grin, but it just makes you want to kiss her again. Just as it looks like she’s about to turn around and get into the car, she bounds up to you and grabs your face, presses another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Okay,” she says again, dropping a kiss to your cheek, still looking at you with that wide grin. “I’m going now.”

You laugh, giddy as you watch her open the door to the passenger seat. “Bye.”

She grins. “Bye.”

She gets in the car, and almost immediately, Natasha is pulling away. You watch the car disappear, and the second it’s out of sight, it takes all of your willpower not to do a happy dance. Instead, you settle for a giddy little jump, head tipping up to the sky before you spin on your heel and start to make your way back towards your dorm.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fluff #j is writing #mine

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [4]

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

Words: 20,748

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut (wrap it before ya tap it!), a little bit of angst, mentions of scars, blood, bruises, reader gets a suit but the fit of it isn’t described just the colors (yes, it’s like Steph’s suit because it’s my favorite of the bats)

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: So, I combined chapters 4 and 5 and this was over 25k words. Google Docs was lagging so hard I couldn’t finish editing on mobile. It was an ordeal lmao I’m so sorry. I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! 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 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Over the next week, you and Jason continue your new dynamic. It’s fun for the both of you and it feels safe. Neither of you feel too much pressure with each other and you’re both really happy. It always starts with your game and then one of you makes the move. That’s usually who wins and it’s fun. 

Now, you’re sitting in the kitchen on one of the laptops reading through a Reddit thread about the Titans. Steam is practically coming out of you ears as Jason walks in.

“You good?” Jason chuckles, seeing you look like you want to chuck the laptop out a window.

“Look at this!” You yell, pointing at the laptop screen that shows a Reddit that’s discussing the vigilante names of the Titans.

“What the fuck am I looking at?” Jason chuckles, his hand resting on the back of your chair and the other hand on the counter as he leans in.

“Acid Fingers!” You fume, pointing dramatically at the screen.

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter. “That you?” He glances at you and he knows this is going to be fun.

“I guess!” You yell, your hands flying above your head.

Jason shakes his head, looking through more of the names and they just keep more ridiculous. He’s taking a mental note of every name to call you the next time you make fun of him being Robin.

“Melty Hands?” Jason continues to chuckle, this is ridiculous.

“Glow girl!” You get more dramatic. “Who the fuck is Freddy Freeman and how can I kill him?!”

Jason looks at you and you’re so mad but he swears you’re endearing. “I think it’s great.” Jason lets his laugh subside.

You snap your neck at him, eyes wide, steam nearly coming out of your ears. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU THINK IT’S GREAT?!?!?! YOU GOT BEASTBOY, SUPERBOY, NIGHTWING, STARFIRE, AND FUCKING ACID FINGERS?!?!?!?!!? WHAT THE FUCK.”

He thinks it’s funny how annoyed you are by it. It’s not even a big deal given you’re not actually a Titan at this current point in time and he has a vivid memory of you saying you don’t even like vigilante names from last week. And the only thing he wants to do is kiss the scowl off your face.

“Acid Fingers is a great one.” Jason tilts his head back, unable to control his laughing.

“I’m gonna hunt this little shit down. Acid Fingers.” You let out a scoff.

“I like it.” Jason says through a laugh. “I’m calling you that, now.”

“Don't you fucking dare, Jason Todd!”

Jason’s voice drops, his face coming closer to yours as he goes to taunt you. “What are you gonna do about it, Acid Fingers?”

You look back at him and the annoyance of the whole thing almost melts away because he looks at you like that, eyes darting to your lips and soft and nothing else even matters. But then he would win.

“You’re named after a fucking bird. And you don’t even look like a robin! You look more like a parrot.” 

Jason’s brows furrow but he keeps his stance close to you. “A parrot?” Jason chortles.

“Red, green, black, yellow. Parrot. Robins are not that colorful.” You snark and Jason can see you trying desperately not to let a smirk come to your lips.

“Still better than, acid fingers. Could have called you Sulfar, Nitric, Bombardier, Scorpian!” Jason says enthusiastically. “Cobra could work, I guess, but that doesn’t fit, I don’t think.” He nods his head just once, his brows are just slightly knitted together.

You blink at him. “I’m actually gonna kill you.” Your words are softer this time, holding no venom with the hollow threat.

“You can try, Acid Fingers.”

“Jason Todd, so fucking help me.” You let out a groan and you knows he will never let this go.

“What’re you gonna do about it, babe?”

“You’re such a brat.” You state softly.

Jason’s laugh bellows through the kitchen as he leans up with the laugh. Bruce peaks in to see what the yelling is about but he just sees Jason laughing hysterically, happier than Bruce has ever seen him before. You look like you’re about to actually commit mass murder but Bruce catches the hint of smile on your face as you watch Jason laugh. Bruce smiles to himself before walking off and leaving the two of you to yourselves.

“I’m gonna tell this little shit--” You start, turning back to the laptop.

“Okay,” Jason cuts you off, yanking your laptop away from you and closing it. “He’s probably like twelve.” Jason laughs. “And you don’t even like the name thing so, Acid Fingers, get a grip.”

“It’s so stupid.” You whine before it turns into a laugh. “It’s so dumb!”

“Hey, I’m a bird and Dick still fucking chose Nightwing, kept the bird thing going. All of the bat stuff is called bat-something.” Jason chortles and he’s got a devious smirk.

“It’s all so dumb.” You get tears from laughing.

“I think Dick actually named most of the stuff. He named the batcomputer.” Jason explains.

“OH, but I call you guys Batsons and I don’t even get a laugh.” You roll your eyes.

“You called us Batsons?”

“Yeah! Are you not the sons of Batman?”

“I guess.” Jason mocks you.

“Shut the fuck up, Jaybird.” You groan, tilting your head back.

Jason can’t stop the laugh that escapes his mouth with the nickname. “Better than shithead, brat, and Acid Fingers.” Jason gives you a wild grin and all you can do is groan. “Come on, get up.” Jason offers you his free hand while you reach for the laptop. “No, enough internet for you today, fucking nerd. I want you to meet someone today.”

“You have friends?” You quip and Jason’s jaw drops as he narrows his eyes at you. “And don’t say me or Gar.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jason laughs. “I have more friends than you do!” You go to open your mouth but Jason goes first. “Don’t say me or Gar.”

“Don’t say me or Gar.” You mutter under your breath, mocking him. “Okay, Krypto.”

“Krypto is a dog, he doesn’t fucking count!” Jason’s eyes widen and that’s something he really likes about you. Considering Krypto as a friend.

“I’m telling him you said that. You’re gonna hurt his feelings, you’re a monster!” You yell dramatically, placing your hand over your heart.

“You're so dramatic!” Jason doesn’t remember a time he laughed this much with anyone.

“You wear a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” You deadpan, blinking at him.

“You were a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” Jason makes a face, mocking you as he mutters under his breath. You let out a laugh and you adore him. “Come on, Acid Fingers.”

“See, dramatic.” You point a finger at him, a cocky smile on your lips.

There are bubbles exploding through his veins as you look at him with big eyes and that smile that could set the world on fire. He doesn’t know what that feeling is but he wants to chase it as fast and as long as he can.

“Come on, seriously. I think you’ll like her.”

“Her?” You raise a brow at him and you hate the way you find your stomach twist at the thought. You’re his friend, too and look where you are right now.

“Jealous?” Jason quips and maybe he's hoping you will be.

You almost say yes but if you’re both just messing around, that’s not very fair. But, he’s taunting you again and he always does that. You spend nearly all your time together so you take another route.

“Should I be?” You quip with confidence and you’re so sure that he’s yours even if your stomach fills with the warmth of green at the mention of a friend that’s a girl.

Jason shrugs because it’s the easiest answer in the world. “Nope.”

“Fine.” You take his hand in yours, getting to your feet. “Where we going?”

“For coffee in the city. Trust me, I think you’ll like her and you need more friends.”

“Aw, but this is so fun.” You scrunch your nose. “I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Have you met me?” Jason gestures to himself with the arm holding the laptop. “She won’t care. If she can tolerate my shit, she can tolerate yours.” Jason rests the laptop on the counter, you going to grab it but Jason yanks you back, pulling you against him. “Seriously?”

“No.” You shake your head, getting a grin before sliding your free hand up to his neck. “Knew you’d do that.” You pull him into you and kiss him deeply. You can feel Jason relax under your touch as you nip at his bottom, Jason groaning against you. When you pull away, his smile is soft and you’ve got that grin that makes Jason’s head spin. “See, I can plan ahead.”

“Alright.” Jason’s voice is breathless as he recovers. “Fuck off.”

“Taking the bike?”

“Always.” Jason chuckles. “Come on.” Jason pulls you along with him, his hand tangled with yours. “We’ll be back.” Jason peaks into the living room, giving Bruce a nod.

“Bye, Bruce!” You smile softly at him.

“Be careful,” Bruce states as the two of you head off.

"Okay, trust me, I think you'll like her." Jason beams, hands in the pockets of his pants as you walk the short distance to the door of a local coffee shop.

He's been friends with Molly for almost two years. Similar to you, Molly doesn't really take his shit but she lets him do his thing, she lets him be. She doesn't know everything but she's always been a good friend to him. Molly was the first person Jason even really considered a close friend. And introducing you to Molly, sure, is so you can have another friend because he believes wholeheartedly you'll get along. But, it's also another introduction to things that are his. Into his world. He doesn't have many friends, but he has Molly.

"Dunno, last girl I tried to be friends with, I punched her in the face." You chortle, watching as Jason grabs the handle of the door.

"Aren't you two good now?" He shakes his head in confusion,

"Yeah," You laugh and you can feel the nerves trickling into your throat. Meeting new people isn't always the most comfortable thing in the world. "I'm just saying though, that happened."

"Well, don't punch this one in the face, alright? She's cool, I swear." Jason assures you. "She also doesn't know about the whole Robin and Batman and Titans shit so don't say shit about that." Jason warns quietly, whispering in your ear before he opens the door.

"Yeah, figured that." You nod softly.

Jason holds the door open for you as you walk inside and he follows right behind you. You look around the coffee shop as Jason joins you at your side and then your eyes land on someone familiar sitting at a table alone near the windows. Your eyes widen as your stomach drops because it's Gotham sure but Gotham is a big enough city. Hell, you and Jason did have some overlap being homeless and you never crossed paths. But, this still seems so bizarre and you find it hard to believe.

The girl looks up from her phone, spotting Jason first and offers him a wide smile. But, then her eyes land on you beside him and her eyes go wide, the smile falling. Jason glances between the two of you, growing more confused by the second.

"Molly?" You nearly yell as you ignore Jason beside you.

“Y/n?” Molly gets up and starts the walk over to the both of you.

You meet Molly in the middle, your steps slow and you can't believe it's Molly. Your heart thunders in your ears as your eyes start to water. Molly pulls you into a hug as you meet in the middle and it's a piece home back in place for you. A part of you thought, maybe, you’d never see her again. Maybe you'd make the effort to never be seen again because that would easier than explaining everything but Molly hugs you and that would have been a bad decision.

"You know each other?" Jason questions as the two of you pull away.

"You know Jason?!" You and Molly question at the same time, looking to the boy who looks more confused than he has ever looked in his life.

"You first." You say.

"One of the shelters. My mom died not long after you took off. How about you?" Molly asks as she glances between the two of you, silently putting a few pieces together.

"Uhhh..." You look to Jason, realizing that explaining your story to someone you actually know makes the whole lying thing a little more difficult. Molly knows your tells. "It's a long story but San Francisco. He got Bruce to let me stay with them."

"Well, okay." Molly laughs, her eyes landing on you. "I've missed you." Molly's eyes grow teary.

You nod, the feeling in your chest growing heavy. "Me too. I'm....I'm so sorry about your mom. I-I should--"

"No, no, it's okay. You were processing yourself, it's okay. I tried to find you."

The guilt comes back, gnawing at your bones because you actively chose to be alone. It was your decision and you never had to leave Molly. Maybe had you just stuck it out, maybe you could have stayed. Her mom was like a second mom and maybe you and Molly could have worked something out. Then Molly wouldn't have been alone. You should have known. Social media is a thing.

"And you found Jason instead." You glance to him. "I am so sorry." You laugh.

"Fuck you." Jason groans but it turns into more of a laugh. "So, this is the friend you talked about in San Francisco?" Jason asks.

"Yeah." You nod.

"And she’s the friend that ran away?" Jason pieces everything together and he doesn't know how he didn't figure that out.

"Are you surprised?" Molly quips, looking back at you.

Jason lets out a laugh but his attention is only on you. "No, she does run."

"So do you." Your eyes widen as you snap your attention to Jason.

"Well, I got us a table." Molly gestures back to her spot.

The three of you make your way to Molly's table. Jason and you sit side by side while Molly sits across from you. It does not go unnoticed the way Jason pulled out your chair and the way you watched him until he sat down, almost subconsciously.

Molly raises a brow at the two of you. "Are you two...like?"

Both of you look like deer in headlights with the question. That question was a lot easier to answer a week ago but today it feels a little more complicated. Despite your agreement to keep this whole friends with benefits thing between the two of you, you both do not want to say no. But, you aren't together and you are friends so saying anything other than no, would be a lie.

"No." Jason lets out a breath, and he hates the bitter taste of the word. "She's just using me for a roof." Jason finds himself able to quip and he intentionally keeps his attention on Molly.

It stings, just a little but not because it's not true. But because you want to explain what you are to Molly. You want to brag about him.

"You literally offered. I was gonna just live on the streets." You quip back, holding your head high.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you." Jason scoffs.

"No, we're friends. I just like to fuck with him." You look back to Molly and Molly swears there's something there. But, she brushes it off because she hasn't seen you in a long time and maybe that's all it is.

"Oh, so that hasn't changed." Molly laughs softly.

Molly and you get talking, catching up. You mostly ask about Molly to avoid talking about yourself. But, Molly has always been the mom friend. The caretaker of the two of you. You’ve never been one to want to talk about yourself, but you’re quieter than normal. You were living in San Francisco. There's a story there and you seem happy yet you aren't saying much. Maybe you’ve changed more than Molly thinks you have but it seems weird.

"Okay, that's enough about me. Tell me about you." Molly takes a sip of her coffee and you nearly stiffen in your seat. "What happened?"

Your voice sticks in the back of your throat and Jason actively sees your eyes go distant. Talking about the stuff with him is easy, he didn't know you before. There's no worry of disappointing him. None of this was your fault, but a part of you thinks telling Molly, will make Molly disappointed. Gar reminded you of Molly. Too kind for the world. Gives that look when something bad happens that you hate so much. And you tug down the sleeves of your hoodie. Jason rests a hand on your knee under the table, you looking back at him as if it snaps you out of your haunting thoughts. He offers you a grin and then a subtle shrug.

"Uh..." You shake your head. "I was, uh, I-I was living with this guy, foster care, and he moved us to San Francisco." You nod your head, trying to find a way to lie. "Uh, he was kind of down and out. He had something wrong with him." You roll your eyes, knowing that's an easy way to put it and then you come up with the lie. "He wasn't in any place to, uh, to care for anyone. I guess, so he called this guy he knew which was Dick and that's how I ended up meeting Jason. Dick already took him in so, ya know, that's kind of it, I guess."

Molly nods her head and she always knows when you’re lying. You have a bad poker face. And Jason can see Molly wanting to ask more questions, so he interjects, squeezing your knee before placing his hand on the table.

"Yeah, Dick wasn't so bad. If foster parents or shit got overwhelmed or financial shit came up, he'd offer a place. Wasn't all bad." Jason shakes his head and you swear he's the best person you’ve ever met. He's also a better liar.

Molly's brows furrow and she can't tell when Jason lies. He's better at it. "So, Bruce sent you to live with him and then you happened to get sent there, too?"

"Yeah, Dick was adopted by Bruce." Jason states. "So, kind of fit. Dick picked her up like a month later."

"Yeah, he just brought me back and Jason has been up my ass ever since." You send him a smirk before offering him a thankful nod and a nudge with your knee.

"He get you into trouble, too?" Molly asks, a teasing smile coming to her face.

"I didn't get you into that much trouble." Jason defends with a laugh.

"How many times were we chased by the cops?" Molly quips.

"Oh, there's a story there, share." You beam.

"He was teaching me how to get the hubcaps off cars." Molly's eyes widen slightly as if to be taunting Jason.

"Fucking hubcaps." You grit your teeth as you let out a sigh.

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "And she didn't get fucking caught, did you, Molly?"

"You got caught robbing cars?" Molly asks.

"Look, I tripped and the pavement was wet, okay? It's the city's fault!" You laugh.

"The city's fault," Molly repeats with the shake of her head.

"And hey, she got me into trouble." Jason lets out a huff and you glare at him. "You told me to turn Dick blue! Or that time we were eavesdropping but I was doing it to make fun of you and Rachel was giving me a death glare for fucking two days when she caught us. That time you got me to try and sneak out after Dick enforced a curfew just so we could go to a midnight premiere of a movie!" Jason shrugs his arm over the back of his chair as he faces you.

You beam as you laugh because getting him in trouble with Dick is one of your favorite pastimes. He makes it so easy. "Okay and what about the Nerf war you started and Dick nailed all of us later that night? Or that time you said it would be funny to change all of the passcodes to fucking 42069 or when it was your idea to bookmark the weirdest out-of-context shit we could think of on all the shared electronics? And turning Dick blue, was technically your idea, I just told you to do it."

"What...what did you bookmark?" Molly asks hesitantly.

Jason gains a smirk, snickering it himself. "Use your imagination."

"It was not porn." You assure her. "We just wanted Dick to have some serious questions and boy did he."

"See, it was fun." Jason defends his stance.

"You ever do that to Bruce?" You questions.

"Oh, I did bookmark porn." Jason cackles while Molly groans and you let out a scoff.

"Of course you did." Molly nods her head.

The conversation continues, Jason and you bouncing back and forth with stories, almost all of them about harassing Dick. But you both tell stories about Gar and Rachel, too. Movie nights and video games. Molly is attentive and the entire time, she grows more confused about your dynamic. Molly's known Jason long enough now and she deems them fairly close but she's never seen him like this before. Not with anyone. And Molly remembers how you were and this is new, too. She isn't going to badger either of you but she definitely takes notice in how Jason's hand keeps dodging under the table every so often and you look at him every single time.

"Here." Molly hands over her phone over to you. "Put in your number."

You take the phone with gentle hands, typing away and then Molly gets a glimpse at the fading ligature scars as your sleeves fall down. Molly looks directly at Jason and he just shakes his head quickly, silently pleading with her not to bring it up. You're having a good time. If Molly brings it up, Jason knows you will shut down as you fumble for another lie. He doesn't want this exchange to go that way. You're long-lost friends and you will tell her in your own time but now is clearly not when you want to discuss any of it. And Molly accepts the plea.

"Here.” You smile softly, handing the phone back to Molly.

"I’ll text you." Molly nods softly and she swallows her questions.

"Well, we should probably head out. Bruce has a thing for us later." Jason clears his throat, standing from his seat.

You look at your phone and know it's because Jason will want to get a sparring session in before he goes on patrol. "Forgot about that." You stand with Jason while Molly follows suit.

The two of you hug quickly, saying your goodbyes before Jason and you head for the door.

He didn't know Molly was your friend. You went through your social media and archived those posts before Jason followed you. It was easier that way, you told yourself. It's why you also soft-blocked her because while you wanted to reach out, the idea of doing so and her knowing you were alive somewhere was terrifying. You were terrified she'd be mad, never forgive you for it. That's not Molly but it was scary anyway. So, Jason didn't know. But, you find yourself eternally grateful anyway. And you think he's the only one who would have noticed your apprehension about talking.

Jason and you get to the bike. Jason gets on first while you stand off to the side. Jason is ready to go but you’re still watching him, your helmet on your hip. You’re looking at him and sometimes, you give him this stare where Jason thinks you might be able to see through him. Like, maybe you can see every thought that passes through his head. It almost makes him want to push. Just almost because he can never decipher exactly what the look means.

"What? Not getting on?" Jason asks, securing his helmet on his head.

"Thank you." You let out a breath. "You didn't have to cover for me."

Jason shrugs his shoulders and he knows the look isn't one of thanks because you don't get it every time he does something for you. That's not it either. "'Know you don't like talking about that shit. And you clearly didn't want to."

He wishes he had someone that would cover for him because sometimes, giving the same damn spiel about his mom and dad and uncle just gets a little tiring. That's why he always handles it nonchalantly. Not having to air out dirty laundry and baggage is a privilege and Jason thinks you should have that privilege, even if it's just for today.

"Yeah, but thanks. I don't think anyone would have been as quick as you were about it."

Jason nods his head. "Hey, look, I'm just glad you got your friend back." He'll always cover for you if you want him to.

"Yeah, now I have you, Gar, Molly, and Krypto." Your smile is so bright Jason thinks it could light up all of Gotham.

"He's still a dog." Jason quips back.

"He's still the bestest boy out of all of you." You hold your head up high, popping your helmet on your head.

"If you fucking call me the bestest boy, I will stop fucking talking to you."

"Awwww, you seem the type to have a praise kink though." You quip, getting on the back as Jason lets out a scoff, his words nearly lodging in his throat.

"Not according to my notes from last night." Jason chuckles. "That'd be you." He turns his head to look back at you and he's thankful for the helmet hiding the burning of his cheeks.

You slide your face shield down. "Oh, so you're taking notes?"

Jason nearly chokes on his own laugh. "Fuck off. You ready?"

"I guess." You mock him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

Back at Wayne Manor, the two of you change into athletic wear and meet in the training room. You spar as per usual. Jason beats you every time. But you’re getting better. Every time you spar, Jason finds himself impressed because you pick up a lot on what he does and then mimic it. It's not helping you in sparring him, but he's completely confident it will help you in any real fight with anyone else. It's smart.

After your showers, Jason starts food for the both of them. You help as much as Jason will let you. This is his element and you find it endearing. You watch him and listen when he tells the story of how Alfred taught him. He's so airy about it, enthusiastic, and a little sad. He didn't know Alfred very long before he died but he clearly meant a lot to Jason. And you think you could listen to him all night if he'll keep talking.

Once dinner is done, you, Jason, and Bruce eat together. You and Jason mostly talk about meeting up with Molly and Jason learning from Alfred because he decided to bake cookies at four in the morning and woke him up. It's actually the first time you’re seeing Bruce in this light and for the first time, you kind of understand Jason's view of him. Just kind of. He doesn't seem so bad.

After dinner, you and Jason do the dishes. Jason washes while you dry. Jason glances over to you every so often and some of this almost makes him feel uneasy. It's easy with you and it feels normal but easy and normal aren't things he normally gets to experience. He's a vigilante superhero. That's not normal or easy but this feels that way with you. Cooking dinner, doing the dishes. He wonders if this will always be like this. Just him and you doing the dishes before patrol. And he gets this small hint of a smile at the thought of it because he almost has a feeling of security in thinking about the future with you.

And then you snap him from his thoughts, picking up your leg and bending your knee to kick him in the butt. Your laugh reverberates against the walls and Jason's heart skips at the sound. And he has to laugh with you, splashing the soapy water at you.

"Fuck you." Jason chortles, his nose scrunching.

"Time and place, Jay." You beam up at him and Jason gains his signature smirk, licking his lips.

"Got time before patrol." Jason states.

"Don't wanna wear you out." You quip as Jason hands you the last plate.

"Like to see you try, babe.” Jason wiggles his brows while your cheeks start to burn. “Hey," Jason shakes his head. "You wanna see if you can come out with us tonight?" Jason asks.

He's been wanting to ask all week. You’ve seemed to be enjoying your break away from being a vigilante and Jason doesn't really understand that part of you. But you did say you'd want to get back out there. He figures maybe tonight could be the night.

"Why? You want me to come?" You flash him a grin as he dries his hands and tosses the towel to the side.

Jason looks up with his eyes, a smirk dancing over his lips. "Maybe."

You shake your head, resting the dry plate to the side as you turn around, leaning your back against the counter. "Maybe another time, bring it up to Bruce." You smirk at him and you are wanting to get back out there. It's only been a few weeks but you miss it. That night with Jason, last week was so fun, sure, Bruce will be there. But it's something and you get can back to feeling useful if Bruce will let you.

"Yeah?" Jason's heart jumps to his throat and wants to reach and grab your waist.

"Yeah, kicking ass with you is fun." You give him a wild smile and he thinks he's going to combust.

"Alright, I'll ask." Jason nods his head and you get the sight a sheepish but accomplished smile on his lips. He's just so damn cute. "Wanna check out the Batcave before we have to get ready?"

"Uh, yeah." You state quickly. "Finally."

Jason takes your hand in his and leads you to the grandfather clock in the living room. Jason changes the time on the clock making the grandfather clock slide across the floor, leading into a stone hallway. You find that to be a weird point of access but it is hidden and kind of cool. You'll give Bruce that.

On the walk through the cave, going deeper under the house, Jason gives you a rundown of the rules. No joyrides in the Batmobile, don't tell anyone or show anyone. Simple rules that you already figured but Jason was told to make sure to go over them even though Jason knows Bruce will later anyway.

"This is it." Jason stretches his arms out as you enter the Batcave, passing by some tech and a hallway where you can see the Batmobile sitting.

It really is a cave. You aren't sure exactly what you expected, but you didn't think the cave thing was literal. And yet. Here you are, standing in a massive cave under Wayne Manor. There are things from the Riddler, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, and several other of Gotham's most notorious almost on display throughout the cave. You spot a dinosaur off to the side and you almost ask. You almost ask what the fuck but decide it's probably better you don't know why Bruce has a T-rex in the Batcave.

"It's literally a cave under his house." You state in awe as you reach one of the display cases that holds the Robin suit.

"Yeah." Jason chuckles, looking to his shoes and back to you. "Bats and caves go hand in hand."

"I guess." You laugh softly as you eye the Robin suit. "Your suit always like this?"

"Yeah." Jason nods his head. "Only comes out when we're out or when I'm traveling. Bruce's in another case hidden away." Jason explains.

"Interesting." You nod your head. It's weird seeing it on display but now you get the display room back at the tower. It was a Bruce thing. "And the batcomputer?" You ask, turning around to see a giant computer sitting in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, that's where a lot of it goes down. Researching, tracking those freaks down." Jason boasts and he does love this gig.

You think he's cute when he talks about it. His entire face lights up every single time. It means the entire world to him. And you wonder why, if it's more than just him wanting to be helpful and wanting to feel useful. But, you decide maybe she won't ask.

"This is so sick," You beam back at him. "Batman whatever, but this shit is cool." You’re amazed, looking around. You never thought you'd be in the actual Batcave at any point in your life.

"Right?" Jason agrees, leaning his lower back against the desk under the computer screens.

You walk up to him and stand right in front of him, Jason eying you carefully. It's as if every day, he shows you something new and you like him that much more. You see parts of him no one else is ever allowed to and you’re seeing the Batcave which might be Bruce's but it's Jason's, too. And you like that this is how it is. You like where you are and how you are. You like him, all of him. But you look at him with a satisfied and happy grin as you look around the Batcave and the dangers of it all settle into the marrow of your bones.

You all lost Donna. You know already. But seeing the Batcave is another reminder of what he does as Robin. No powers. Just human doing his best out there to help people. And that part scares you. Worried he won't come home one day. So, you close the distance between you and swear you won't ever tell him that.

You smirk, instead, Jason's eyes darting you up and down. "What's up?" Jason nods his head, his hands still gripping the desk under him.

You shrug, cupping his face before you press your lips to his. It sucks the breath right out of him and he doesn't miss a beat, bringing his hands to your hips and yanking you as close to him as possible. Your mouths intertwine into one and Jason lives for this. It's the not talking shit that you do. It’s the way you can kiss him now and know that's it.

You kiss and then sometimes more happens, or sometimes this is all it is. And that works for him because he's allowed to like you from this distance. He's allowed to let his heart and his blood adjust to the idea of it. To the idea of trusting another person like this. It allows him time to be careful with himself and with you. He can be sure you won't hurt each other like this. And he loves the way your mouth moves with his.

You pull away, your hands lightly gliding over his shoulders. "Don't do anything fucking stupid tonight, Jay." There's a flicker of worry that crosses your eyes, for just a split second and Jason can see it.

Jason squeezes your hips, a sign of reassurance. "Of course not." Jason chuckles. "Got a plan."

"Mhm." You hum. "Always got a plan."

"Always, babe." Jason furrows his brows, letting a smirk come to his lips. "Don't worry so much.".

You shrug a shoulder. "Someone has to."

Jason laughs softly, squeezing your hips again. "I'll be fine." Jason moves his hand to your chin moving your face closer to his again. "I got it." His voice goes a little graveled before he kisses you again.

Jason and Bruce get ready to leave not long after Jason and you come back from the Batcave. This leaves you alone in the Manor again. You don't mind it much, but it gives you a little bit more space to think and you were never a huge fan of thinking.

Your mind goes back to the tower that night it was attacked. And you wonder what would happen if someone figured out Bruce was Batman and then attacked the manor. What if it happens when they're not home? What if it's people like CADMUS? Where there's a lot of them and they're strong and you’re outnumbered? What if they want metahumans? The panic starts to set in so you go to your room and lock the door, grabbing a few of your knives.

You place one of the switchblades under your pillow, making sure it's locked before doing so. And then you place another in both of your nightstands, making sure there's always one around. Then you hide one on top of the fireplace in the middle of the room, just in case. When you’re done, you sit down with a knife in hand and pull out your phone.

You call Gar who, naturally answers after only a few rings. You talk every day still so you calling didn't send up any red flags. You kick off the conversation by asking how things are going and what he's up to. Gar asks the same back and you just say you’re kind of freaked yourself out a little and you’re trying to be honest about it. You know you’re just being paranoid but you’re freaked out anyway. So, Gar offers to stay on the phone with you until the Titans have to leave.

You keep in touch with the Titans regularly. Dick and Kory check in with you every so often to make sure everything is going okay. It's kind of nice actually. Being across the entire country and still having them on your side. You didn't really expect it but it is nice and you appreciate it. And talking with Gar is helping a little. So, when Gar says he has to go, you finds yourself getting up and grabbing your scrapbooking things before sitting back on the bed and turning on a movie.

It's after three by the time Jason and Bruce get home. You can hear them come in so you get up to unlock and up open your door, assuming Jason will find his way to you once he's changed and showered.

It's less than fifteen later when Jason appears in your doorway. Jason gets a look at you sitting cross-legged on your bed, your scrapbook stuff scattered about your entire bed and a knife sitting just off to the side. His brow quirks at it but he thinks maybe you needed it for something. And he goes back to thinking about you being beautiful and content like this. In your element with a movie on, in pajamas. And he can't help but smile softly.

"Hey." Jason says, keeping his stance. But his voice is a little groggy and he hates the way it sounds.

"How'd it go?" You ask, barely glancing at him to not seem too eager to see him.

But there's silence that follows. Seeing you, it brought him a sense of relief and comfort. A stark contrast to what he's actually feeling right about now. Patrol did not go well. And he can't lie because you'll look over at him fully eventually and call his bluff. So, instead, he hangs his head and lets the silence swallow him hole.

You look over, not liking the silence and your entire face falls at the sight of him You quickly get up from the bed and close the distance between you. It's hard. You've been injured together and you see him with bruises all the time, but it's hard. He's in pain, taking hits and getting hurt. And it hurts to see him beat up and feeling beat up. At least most nights when he comes home with a bruise, he's got that cocky grin and some story about kicking someone's ass. But, that's not the look he's giving you right now and it hurts.

"What the hell happend?" You ask, looking over his face, your hand lightly coming up to cup his jaw.

There's a light red bruise hugging his opposite jaw, a purple bruise starting right under his eye, and, blood is still dripping down the side of his face and his lip. There's a cut on his neck and Bruce was there. How did he even manage to get hurt?

Jason shrugs, a dullness in his usually vibrant eyes. "Did not go to plan." He looks exhausted.

You know he hasn't been sleeping much but this is bad. He looks defeated and you don't understand how he's managing to get so beat up when Bruce is supposed to be beside him. It doesn't make any sense.

"Fucks sake, Jay." You shake your head. "Come on." You reach down for his hand and drag him to the bathroom that sits between your rooms.

Jason takes a seat on the counter directing you to one of the cabinets that has all of the first aid supplies.

Jason's hands are shaking as he tries to calm down, resting them in his lap as he waits. A part of him doesn't even want your help right now. He wants to fight this. Fight everything and everyone around him, it should have been fine tonight. He's done this a million times but then he gets so fucking lost in his head, he loses it. It's not fair. And he's terrified Bruce is gonna catch on and take Robin away. How is he supposed to be Robin if he can't fight crime without getting hurt?

"Are you okay?" You ask, grabbing an alcohol pad to start cleaning the cut on his forehead.

"I'm fine." Jason grits his teeth.

"What happened?" You clean up the blood softly before moving up the cut, Jason barely even flinching with the sting.

"Just some fucking bullshit." The worst part is, he doesn't even know what actually happened. He just knows he paused again and all he can feel through his entire bloodstream is shame.

"That's descriptive," You state, glancing to his face and searching for any sign of anything other than exhaustion but you come up empty.

"It doesn't fucking matter, I fucked up again." Jason's scoff is bitter while you grab another alcohol pad and start cleaning the cut on his neck. Jason hisses in return, scrunching his nose.

"Did you?" You ask, looking to his eyes and then back to the cut.

"Clearly."

"Just because you got hurt doesn't mean you fucked up, Jay." You keep your voice level and calm, knowing this side of him all too well.

"Bruce said I did." Jason mutters and you pull away, tossing the alcohol pad in the trash.

"What do you mean?" Your brows furrow as you grab a gauze pad, lightly holding it to his head to stop the bleeding.

"Didn't listen, went off on this guy before Bruce was ready."

"Okay, so what happened?" You press.

You don't get it. Why would he do that? He's capable but why wouldn't he just listen to Bruce? It's not like this is new to either of them. It doesn't make any sense.

"Doesn't fucking matter." His voice is snippy but defeated and you get a glimpse at his shaky hands.

"Jay, hey, look, I'm worried about you, okay?" You eye him carefully deciding not to ask why he would do that. He's beating himself enough without you badgering him about his decision-making. "Your hands are still shaking." You offer a subtle nod, placing your free hand on top of his.

"Just an adrenaline dump." Jason brushes it off. He doesn't need you disappointed and worrying too much.

"Are you sure?" You aren't buying it. His hands shook like this after Deathstroke.

"Yeah, I'm fucking fine, alright? It's just bullshit, should have had him and I don't know. I don't know what happened."

It's not you. It'll never be you that's the problem but he can't stand the way he can't do anything anymore without being paralyzed with fear. And he hates how he can feel the burning in the back of his eyes because it's like he's losing his ability to be good at the one thing he always felt good enough for. Robin. And who he is if he can't do that anymore? And he’s just so damn mad at himself.

You nod softly. "Okay, well, if you're not, you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce." You try your best to reason with him.

You’re worried. And when he looks like this, every part of you wants to fight the entire universe for him. All you want is to make it all go away for him. And you just want him to be okay again.

Jason thinks about telling you. You won't judge him or be mad like Bruce. You'll nod and tell him it's not his fault. But he can't do that to you because he knows you worry about him. You’ve never kissed him before patrol before. He's not that dense.

"I'm fine, I don't know what happened, really." Jason urges and he gains a smile, placing his hand over yours that's holding the gauze. "Don't worry so fucking much."

"I'm always gonna worry about you, Jay," You roll your eyes and grab the butterfly stitches. And you pause for a second, sucking in a breath and decide to bite down your question. But Jason can see it picking at you as you go to place the stitches.

"What?" Jason questions, looking up at you.

You shake your head and you want to ask him if he's ever thought about taking a break to take care of himself but you think maybe he'll take it the wrong way right now. He's beating himself up enough and asking that now is going to make it worse. But, you help but can't worry about him and there's something off. You can see it across his face.

"I want to ask you something but I think you're gonna take it the wrong way and push me away." You state, keeping your stare on the cut.

He's looking up at you, watching as his heart stops in his chest. He doesn't want to push you away but if it's a question you’re worried about, he knows he's not going to like it. Maybe he will push. And that's not very fair to you.

"I won't." Jason states, letting a breath fall harshly into the air.

"Promise? Because I don't mean anything by it." You tread lightly and you know him. You’re going to ask and he's going to get mad.

"Okay." Jason’s voice is flat.

You place the final stitch before you make eye contact with him and place your hand over his in his lap. They're cold and Jason's hands are never cold.

"Have....have you thought...about taking a break from Robin?"

Jason feels his stomach fall a hundred stories. His heart stutters and everything feels cold. How could you possibly ask him that? Just because a break works for you, doesn't mean it'll work for him. You know how much Robin means to him and you’re asking him anyway. How can you ask that of him?

"You don't want me to be Robin?!" Jason barks, his brows pulling into a harsh line and you knew he'd take it the wrong way.

"No." You shake your head. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm just--"

"What?! Bruce thought I needed a fucking break!" Jason pulls his hands from yours and you take a step back. "Dick wouldn't fucking let me and look where that lead us! Taking a fucking break doesn't do fucking shit!"

"Hey, no, that's not what I'm saying, Jay. They forced a break onto you!" You yell back. "I mean you, have you thought about taking a break for you? On your own terms. Not for them. Fuck them. You know damn well I am on your side 100% of the time."

"But you're asking! You don't think I'm good enough for--"

"Shut up." You cut him off. "Don't put that shit on me because I didn't say anything. I asked you a question. Don't try and read between lines that aren't there. I am asking you because I am worried and I know you don't like it but that's just too damn bad, Jay. You ARE good enough. I'm taking a break and what? Do you think I'm not good enough for it?"

Jason pauses. "No...you are." Jason scoffs. "But I didn't fucking ask you to!"

"I know! And I'm not asking you to." You shake your head. "I don't even know if I think you need a break, but if I did, I still would never ask you to take a break. It's not my place to ask that of you. I--" You feel your heart skip and you are terrified of losing him. That's what this whole thing boils down to. You can't lose him. "I just..."

"What?" Jason asks but this time, he lacks some of the venom, getting the sense something's going on.

"I...I just..." You stutter because you have so much to say and none of the words will come out. They stick to your vocal cords as if it's a lifeline to everything you’ve come to adore over the last few months. "You....you go out every night with Bruce and...." The lump grows in your throat as your brows furrow and Jason feels the guilt seep into his blood. Maybe your question wasn't about him. "I don't know." You shake your head. "You're human, ya know? No powers and...I know that, obviously. Deathstroke and shit but uh...I don't know."

"What?" Jason pushes and there's a fear that creeps into his voice.

You almost tell him you’re worried about him not coming home. You almost tell him that if he goes out one night and doesn't come home, you'd lose it entirely. You almost tell him he's it for you. But, none of those words make their way to the surface because what you two are is fun and what you are isn't too pressured and what you are allows you both to exist in a simple bubble. What you are allows you both a safe distance from pain.

Jason thinks this is gonna be it. This is gonna be where you finally say the words and it changes everything. He's not ready to commit to it. It still scares the ever-living shit out of him and he also knows that turning you down again would be miserable. To go back to being just friends? Nothing else? That is agonizing. So, he sits nearly paralyzed, waiting to see where this going.

"I'm just worried about you, Jay." You stick to your usual form of concern and Jason can't figure out why his heart just fell into the pit of his stomach.

Jason lets out a breath that’s almost painful. He needs a way to reassure you that he’s fine. But, he swears that’s going to be harder than it should be. You see through every piece of bullshit he’s thrown at you. But, he has to try anyway because Jason has to believe he’ll be fine and that he’s just a little off. It’ll all be fine in the end. He just needs a little more time.

"Don't worry so much." Jason states and extends his arm out for you. You close the distance between you, standing between his legs. "I'm fine, alright? You don't have shit to worry about. I'm just a little off my game. It's not a thing."

You rest your forehead against his and Jason lets out a relieved breath. "I, um...." You pause for a second. "Just really care about you. Not sure what I would do if I lost you, ya know?"

He has never had anyone so afraid of losing him before. It's foreign. He doesn't know how to process it or what to do with it. He can't stop being a vigilante and deep down, he knows you would never ask him to stop and he doesn't even really believe you want him to. But, you make valid points and he also knows that if it were you coming like he does, he'd be worried, too.

Jason pulls away, cupping your face with is hands. "You're not gonna lose me, alright?" Jason gets a cheeky grin. "I'm fine."

He wants to push and run and flee. He wants to get the hell away from this conversation. It's the exposure of being a little vulnerable. Before, he could get used to it but now you both have that added layer of benefits and you’re saying you’re terrified of him dying and he feels so exposed.

Sun exposure can lead to skin cancer. Smoke exposure can lead to lung cancer, COPD, and smoke inhalation, all of which are deadly. Exposure to elements while being unprepared is also deadly. Exposure is deadly and he feels that fear knocking and pounding at the back of his head and against his rib cage. 

And yet he finds himself wondering how someone who also hates being so exposed, just like him, is finding it in yourself to expose that part of you. You don't stutter much around him anymore but you just did, a lot, which means you were nervous. Exposed but you did it anyway for him and he doesn't fucking get it. It might as well be rocket science at this point.

And if he weren't so damn terrified of exposure and commitment and everything around him, he'd tell you he's afraid of losing you, too.

So, instead of running or pushing like he so desperately wants to do, he rests his forehead back against yours while your eyes close. Your thumbs run over his thighs and you fall into a silence as if knowing there should be more said in this conversation. But neither one of you are willing to say it.

Jason's heart is beating against his ribs and he thinks his heart is directly beating in search for yours. Maybe it's always been beating for a place to call home and it longs for yours because you’re the closest thing to home he's ever felt. And he wishes he could just tell you that.

But where words fail, actions can speak.

He pulls away, and lifts your chin, kissing your lips gently and softly. He can feel you smile against him and it brings him a sense of ease. The night still weighs heavy on his chest and in his stomach but you kiss him back, just as gently, and it makes the night seem a little easier to swallow. The way you kiss him, makes it a little easier for him to swallow the words he wishes he could say.

"What was that for?" You ask softly because he's never kissed you like that before.

"Thanks for giving a shit about me." Jason lets out a breath.

You let out a laugh, your nose scrunching. "Always." You suck in a breath and you want to understand every part of him. Jason isn’t all that hard to figure out but there are some things you realize you’ve never asked. And all you ever want to do is to be there for him and understand him, just as he does for you. "Can I ask you something?" You ask, pulling away to finish tending to the cut on his neck.

"Sure." Jason tilts his head so you can have better access to the cut.

"Why does Robin mean so much to you?" You glance to him, seeing his brows pull together in a harsh line. "I'm just wondering. I never asked before."

Jason lets out a breath. "I get to help people." Jason states. "Get to kickass with Batman every night, it's the sickest gig in the world." Jason chortles and his laugh makes your heart warm.

"That it? Get to kick some ass helping people?" You ask but the corner of your mouth is tugged up.

"I'm good at it." Jason states as you finishes placing the gauze pad.

His entire life, he's never felt good enough but he's always had this heart of gold. He's always just wanted to help and be helpful. That's it. And Robin lets him do that in such a big way. He doesn't even have the right words to describe it and a part of him doesn't even want to because he thinks it might sound lame out loud. But, he can see you offering him a soft smile.

"Yeah, you are the better Robin." You laugh softly.

"Yeah, thanks." Jason chuckles softly and he plays a big game but it's hard filling in Dick's shoes sometimes. "Just feel fucking important I guess. Like what I do matters."

You pause, your brows furrowing and you’re making it your mission to always make sure he feels important. You place your hands on his thighs while Jason's hands come to your hips. "I am not Robin but, uh, you're important to me, too, ya know? Even without Robin."

Heat rises to Jason's cheeks and he never really knows what to say when you say something like that. "Thanks." He clears his throat because he's worried this might go to a talk of sorts with the comment and he doesn't want it to go there. It can't go there. "What were you working on?"

"Scrapbook." You state and you decide to let him switch the conversation.

"What's it about?"

"It's a secret," You tease him, looking back at him before you grab a wet rag and start cleaning the cut on his lip.

"Come on," Jason groans, smirking under your touch. "Can't even tell me?"

"Nope." You pop the p and your mouth is tugged into a grin.

"Wow, thought there were no secrets between us." The sarcasm drips from his words.

You pull away and grin at him. "Oh, that are plenty of secrets, Jason Todd."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Jason's voice drops and he knows what you’re doing.

"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you." Your eyes widen at him.

He wants to hear all of your secrets. All the good, the bad, and the ugly. Jason holds many secrets close to his chest and you do, too but he wants to know yours. He'd be willing to sit and tell you more of his if you can do the same. You’re the only one he's ever felt that way with. He wants to know every detail.

"Tell me one." His voice goes soft, catching you off guard.

You rest the rag in the sink, placing your hands back on his thighs. "Then you have to tell me one." Your eyes narrow slightly, a smirk dancing over your lips.

Jason gets a smirk, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. "Deal."

You think all of your secrets are about him. He knows everything else. You’ve told him it all whether he knows it or not. The only ones you have left are the ones about him and those are the ones most guarded. They are yours. They stay locked behind your ribcage to keep you and Jason like this. Flirt and fun and no strings attached. But, he's got these big green eyes that make your secrets want to spill out carelessly.

"Okay, are we having a discussion about these secrets or not?" You ask bluntly and you want to know what's safe to tell him now. You don't want the talk yet. What you're doing is fun and easy. You don't want to complicate it just yet.

Jason shakes his head. "Nope." He doesn't want the talk either. This is comfortable. He wants to be comfortable a little bit longer with you.

"It was always you." Your voice is so quiet Jason almost doesn't hear you and Jason just eyes you as your eyes divert to your hands slightly gripping his thighs.

If things didn't get complicated with Rose and the attack on the tower, and if he wouldn't have pushed you away and if you wouldn't have run, you would have told him. You would have just said the words but all of those things happened. And while you don't want that conversation right now because things would change too much too soon, you do want him to know. He beats himself up when things go wrong and Jason thinks he's not worthy of being cared for or important to other people. He deserves to know.

His heart nearly stops in his chest. He racks his brain, trying to figure out exactly what that means because it cannot mean what he thinks it means. But he's almost positive there can't be anything else you mean by that. He remembers every conversation you’ve ever had and you wouldn't tell him something he wouldn't remember. The only thing that comes to his head is him and Gar. And that thought is banging and pounding against his ribcage, trying to thrash its way out into the open air and ask. To verify that's true. But, he can't. His ribcage stays closed and locked and guarded.

"Don't dig into it." You state as you finally look back at him and see the gears in his head start to move. "Your turn."

Jason bounces too many secrets around on his head. He could tell her so many. He's thought about kissing you since that day in the training room where you told him what happened to you. He wishes he would have kissed you both of those nights in the bathroom. He should have asked you to leave with him. But all of those seem too heavy and he knows you will want to dig into them. That's not fair to you. He won't do that. And that’s why he doesn’t tell you it should have been you, it’s always been you. You deserve to know, too but you’ll dig and he knows you will. That’s not fair. So, he picks something else that's still honest, but not something that'll bother you.

"I like when you help me like this. Never liked when Bruce or Alfred would offer." Jason’s voice is soft but a little hesitant.

You offer him a gentle smile and you actually expected him to say something less serious, something more of a joke. You were okay with that. So, this is surprising.

"I'll always clean you up." You laugh softly.

Jason isn't gonna talk about it. Not even that, it's too much tonight so instead, he pulls you closer to him before sliding his hands up to your face and bringing your lips to his.

Over the next few weeks, things continue as normal. You and Jason continue your new arrangement and it's going well. You've managed to keep it between the two of you, not even realizing Bruce and Molly have definitely figured something was going on. You're existing in your own bubble together. Bruce upped your training so he knows what you’re capable of. He's happy to have you along on patrol but he's going to make sure you’re safe just as he did with Jason and Dick.

Training with Bruce is different than Dick and Jason. Dick was defensive, Jason is offensive, and Bruce is a mix of both as well as observing. But, you follow along with him just fine and Bruce has you fitted for a suit because if someone is going on patrol with him, they need extra protection. And you’ve felt comfortable enough on the bike, with Jason's teaching, that you applied for a motorcycle license and are just waiting for the all-clear. Jason assures you that they approve most people and you don't need a standard license to even apply. So, you’re not worried.

Now though, you’re hanging out with Molly at Molly's apartment in Crime Alley. You've been hanging out a lot more and you feel so happy. You were best friends your entire lives and you missed her. It's why you never mentioned her by name. Keeping her name out of your mouth, kept the ache of missing her at a distance. But you're back together and Molly missed you, too. She always worried you found yourself dead somewhere. She's relieved you were just across the country.

"I missed this place." You let a sigh, opening the take-out box.

"I swear, we'd eat there every weekend. I haven't had this is forever." Molly laughs softly. It was your favorite place, eating there hurt.

"Really? This was the first place I wanted to hit when I got back. Jason and me went the very next day I was here." You beam.

"Oh, you took Jason to your favorite take-out place?" Molly asks with a grin, her sitting down and opening her own take-out back.

"Yeah! He needs to experience it, too." You defend. "Why?"

"Just funny." Molly laughs softly. "Seems nothing has changed though. Getting the same order."

"And the place looks the exact same." You gesture your fork at Molly. "Tim still helping out, just as a full-time employee now."

"Yeah, instead him running orders in between doing his homework," Molly laughs and Tim is the son of the owners of the restaurant.

The three of you aren't friends by any means but you've had your fair share of conversations over the years. Tim was always in the restaurant when you and Molly would pop in and the natural order of things would be to talk to people around the same age.

"Feels so homey." You smile softly.

Your phone vibrates and Molly has noticed your face lights up when you check it. You start typing and there's this smile on your lips that warms Molly's heart. You’ve always been a little cynical, just a little. But you were also happy. It's just, Molly hasn't seen you like this and you’ve been different. In some ways a good different and in others, not so much.

"How are you? It's been a few weeks and I haven't asked in a while. I wanted to give you some space." Molly’s voice is kind as she starts on her food.

"I'm really good, actually." You answer honestly.

You’re still having nightmares and you look over your shoulder still. But, you don't feel nearly as paranoid. The nightmares are slowing down. You’re getting a little more sleep. And then there's Jason. He makes you feel so at ease with everything.

"Good, you look happy." Molly’s smile is gentle and warm.

"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. You aren't sure you’ve ever been this happy as you type away as at a text which is of course just Jason asking what you and Molly are up to.

"So...you and Jason...?" Molly raises a brow at you.

"What about us?" You answer slowly, resting your phone on the table.

"You like him." Molly teases softly.

"Do I?" You quip.

"Yes. You have never been more obvious about something in your life." Molly laughs.

"What do you mean?" You snort with the shake of your head.

It's not so much that you care that Molly knows. It's that you know Molly and you know Molly is going to have a whole lot of questions as to why you haven't told him yet. In order for you to answer that honestly, you would have to tell Molly about Deathstroke which means Robin and you can't do that.

"Well, no one calls him Jay so there's that. You two are always touching each other in some way which is very uncharacteristic of the both of you. The way you guys joke with each other. You talk about him a lot. You talk about the other people but not like you talk about Jason. Then there's the way you look at—"

"Okay." You cut your off, getting the point. You didn't realize you made it so obvious. "I get it."

"So?" Molly presses.

"Yeah, he just...." You pause and a sad smile comes to your lips. "I really, really like him and he's such a brat, ya know? But...I don't know. He's...good. I don't know, he gets me and I get him. It's like we don't even have to talk to get it, I guess." Your brows furrow. "I don't know."

"He likes you, too you know?" Molly pokes at her food.

"How do you figure?" You chuckle and you’re always hoping he does but you highly doubt that’s a detail Jason told Molly.

"He watches you. Like, always. When he says something he thinks is funny, he immediately looks at you to see if you laugh which, by the way, you always do and Jason isn't that funny." Molly teases and it gets a laugh out of you. "He's really protective of you, I mean, he is with most but it's different with you, remember when we saw that move last week?"

"Yes?" You question and you’re not entirely sure what that has to do with anything.

It went as it always does when you go to see a movie. You tease Jason about how few movies he’s seen and he calls you a nerd and tells you to get out more. As far as you remember, it went as it always does.

"There was a guy eyeing you and you were oblivious to it because you were too busy watching Jason but Jason was staring that guy down so hard, I thought Jason was going to walk over and hit him, the guy left. If looks could kill, that guy would have been dead. Also, don't tell him I told you this, okay?"

"Okay?"

"When he came back, he told me about this girl and I've never heard him talk like that about someone before. He said she drove him insane but was also one of the coolest people he's ever met. And he missed her. I kind of thought he was talking about Rose. Like he wasn't over her because he said he was excited this girl was coming to Gotham but then you walked into the coffee shop that day and I knew he was talking about you not Rose. So, for what it's worth, he likes you."

Jason looped Molly in about Rose when he got back. He didn't tell her much but he did tell her. So, when Jason was also talking about this other girl, Molly kind of figured it'd be Rose because Jason, as long as Molly has known him at least, hasn't been with many people. It's not all that shocking with his inability to let people in so Molly always thought it was Rose. But, she watches Jason and you and realizes all those good things she's heard, were always about you. Not Rose. And Molly, for one, thinks the two of you would be good together.

A soft, sheepish smile tugs at your lips as your heart burns in your chest. "I didn't realize he talked about me."

It's a little surprising since it's Jason. But, your heart warms with the idea of him telling anyone about you. And him being excited for you to be in Gotham with him.

"You know Jason, super open and great at communication." Molly laughs softly. "So, have you told him?"

You shake your head. "No..." You mutter as you take a drink of your drink.

"Why not!? You always tell people and he likes you, too." Molly groans and Jason, she completely understands not saying anything but you? Not so much.

"It's complicated." You let out a sigh knowing complicated is an easy way to put it.

"Life is too short and you like him, he likes you. What's so complicated?"

You run every reason through your head. Deathstroke, almost dying, Gar, Rose, not wanting to get hurt again. Not wanting to Jason to die for you and Jason not wanting you to die for him. The whole idea of a relationship is terrifying. You’re both a little bit of mess at this exact point in time. The endless trauma that seems to follow you both around. And friends with benefits is fun. There are several reasons why this is complicated but most of those you can’t tell her. But, you can tell her one reason.

"I....okay...I can't tell you everything and I'm asking you to not ask about everything, okay? It's not my shit to tell. I can't tell you without telling you everyone else's shit and that's not fair."

"Okay?" Molly nods her head slowly, her brows furrowing together, unsure what you could possibly mean by any of that.

"So, uh....you just have to take what I tell you and don't ask questions and do not dig, I know you love to dig into things, so please don't."

"Okay, but you're freaking me out." Molly forces a small laugh.

"It's fine. But, look, something happened and uh....we got hurt. And I kissed him." You cut out every other important detail, knowing that likely makes very little sense.

"You did?!"

"Yeah, and I uh, I don't know. We went back home and we helping each other out and he told me he couldn't. He had his reasons and I...I agreed with him enough, I guess. And he said, that I was into Gar and he was into Rose anyway it wouldn't work with us. And that was the end of it." You poke your food with a fork because maybe that conversation still stings a little bit.

"You did it again." Molly groans as she she shakes her head.

"Yep." You nod your head. "I know, I realized that later. I should have fought but I did like Gar and he liked Rose. Those were facts we both knew. So, I Iet him push and I ran. And now, I'm....worried if I tell him, he won't pick me again and that'll suck. I know I put Gar in that shitty situation and that's not fair but I don't want him to push again. It just sucked."

You’re not a pick-me person but it hurt anyway. And you know that the odds of Jason pushing again, after everything and with where you stand right now, are probably pretty slim. But, there is that chance because he kissed you back that night, too. He never said he didn’t like you. But, that’s also a very, very small reason for not telling him. You think you could suck up the fear of it if it weren’t for everything else but you can’t tell Molly that. You can just give her this one, miniscule reason. 

"Right, but you let him. And I'm telling you he likes you. What's the worst that can happen if you tell him?" Molly shrugs her shoulders.

"We'd have to talk about it and neither of us want to." You chortle.

"So don't? You tell him and then he tells you and that can be the end of it, you don't need to have this whole contract discussed and signed about it."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "There is more to it but that's what I can tell you."

"We'll, regardless, you should tell him. You would be good together." Molly shrugs softly, a cheeky smile pulling at her lips.

"I will, I swear. But, we're just having fun right now and I think we're both comfortable here for now." You take a bite of your food with the shrug of your shoulders. "What about you?" You ask changing it back to Molly. "Seeing anyone?"

Molly laughs softly, getting the hint to switch subjects. "Kind of. There's a girl, Sheila."

“Oh, Sheila?” Your eyes widen. “Go on.” You urge with a wide smile.

When you get back of the Manor, you go looking for Jason. While things are getting better for you, they almost seemed to have stalled for Jason. He feels happy. That's not the issue. The issue is patrolling as Robin and then the lack of sleep. His nightmares are several times a week and he can't bring himself to sleep some nights. He lays with you and you fall asleep. He never expects you or wants you to stay up and suffer with him. Everything is just hard. And he's so angry about it.

He's scared of everything that moves sideways and he never used to be like that. He couldn't afford to be like that. All he does is feel weak and every time he fucks up on patrol, it gets worse. He feels that much more like a failure and disappointment to Bruce. Every time a nightmare hits, he feels worse. And he hates that his leg still hurts. It's not fair and he's fine, usually. He deals with it. But, there are some days, like today, when the world feels a little heavier.

"Hey." You greet him quietly as you walk into the library, Jason seated on the couch against the windows with a book open.

He looks over the book and he smiles, almost subconsciously. "Hey, how's Molly?"

"Good, we got food from that place I like." You smile softly as you walk further into the room. He's reading Frankenstein again and you think the bags under his eyes are darker today. "Reading, huh?" You tilt your head slightly to the right.

"Yeah," Jason answers plainly.

You sleep together nearly every night and Jason doesn't know, but you feel him awake sometimes. And when you try not to sleep in each other's rooms, usually one of you wakes up from a nightmare anyway and wanders into the other's room. More often than not, it's Jason coming into your room. And sometimes, you’re the one that goes into his room to wake him up because he's screaming so loud, it wakes you up in your own room. The only reason you aren't completely freaking out is because he's getting better about talking about his nightmares with you. But, it's clear it bothers him. You wish more than anything you knew how to help him.

"Loud?" You ask and that's one thing he adores and appreciates about you. You’re never afraid to ask him about it. And you never really have to. You know. He never has to tell you. No one knows him like you do.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Jason shakes his head, a gentle smirk on his lips. "Nope."

"Okay." You smile at him. "I'll be right back." You spin on your heels and dart out of the room, leaving Jason a little confused.

He goes back to reading his book until you walk in, carrying your scrapbook supplies in both arms, you have a warm but wide smile tugging at your lips. You sit on the floor at the table in front of Jason. Jason watches you get your supplies spread across the table and that's another thing about you. You just join him. You accept him not talking about everything because he will. He always tells you what's going on with him eventually. But until he's ready, you just sit with him so he's never alone.

"I'll just do my thing and you can talk if you want to or read." You smile widely at him as you look over your shoulder.

Jason lets out a soft chuckle. "Can read out loud if you want."

"I think you just like to hear yourself talk." You chuckle, looking back at the table.

"And you don't?" Jason chortles.

"I didn't say I didn't," You laugh softly and you could listen to him read an instruction manual and still be entertained.

"Yeah, alright. Did you want context?"

"No, you can just read." You answer softly, leaning over the table to open to the page in scrapbook you were last working on. And Jason starts reading.

Jason continues to read out loud and you work on putting your page together. Jason looks over his book after every paragraph, not even realizing he's doing it so often. But he can see some of what you’re doing and you’re working a page that looks to be all of the Titans. He can see a picture of Dick and Gar laid out while there's another one of Rachel on the actual page. And he smiles softly. He just likes you so much and he is so aware of it. You’re in your own little bubble with him reading to you and he thinks this is how it should be because it's peaceful.

Jason has never known peace. Between how he grew up and the streets and Robin, peace isn't exactly in his life. He didn't even think he knew a life could have peace. But then he meets you and somewhere between the chaos of your lives and falling into comfort with you, he realizes he's at peace when you’re around.

He wakes up from a nightmare and there you are looking at him with soft eyes and a look of worry across your face. But one that wreaks of kindness and adoration. And the nightmares don't seem so scary anymore. And then when things feel too heavy, you walk in and hold the world up with him. When he wants to absolutely lose it because patrol didn't go well and Bruce lectures him, you give him a smirk and it quiets the thoughts. When he thinks he's not worthy of anything good, you kiss him and he swears you are good. And maybe, just maybe, there is a part of him that can be deserving of you. When Jason doesn't think he knows what peace is, you walk in and decides to be his peace for him.

"Are you ever gonna show me?" Jason asks, looking up from his book and leaning slightly over the couch to get a better look.

You shove your book away from him. "You're so nosy." You give him a fake whine. "Maybe."

"Just maybe?" Jason leans all the way up, trying to get a look at the other side and you move it away.

"It's not done!" You turn to give him the fakest scowl he's ever seen.

"Sneak peak?" Jason gives you a cheeky smile.

"While that is cute of you, no."

Jason puts his finger in his book and swings his legs to the floor, planting his feet down. He leans over to you, closing most of the distance between you. His grin is wicked and wild like a rogue wave and you want to drown right into him.

"You're just gonna make me wait?" Jason's voice drops.

"Patience is a virtue, Jay." You lick your lips as you look to his.

"I'm not a patient person."

"Oh, I know." You laugh softly as Jason gets closer to you, his nose brushing over yours and you swear you'll never get used to it. You can feel him leaning over you though and you pull away, moving the book over. "Nice try."

Jason leans back with a booming laugh. "Worth a shot."

"Gotta be quicker than that, Jay."

"But you'll show me, right? When it's done?"

"Yes, of course." You roll your eyes. "It's just a book about you guys so I'll give that. You get to know what it's about." Your entire chest burns with his interest in your thing.

"The whole book?" Jason raises a brow.

"Mhm. You all get a dedicated page. But that's it, you don't get any more than that."

Jason's voice catches in his throat because if they all get a dedicated page, that means he does, too. "Oh, I get a page, huh?"

"Yes." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you stop being so nosy, maybe you'll get two."

Jason wants to crack his rips wide open and let you take his heart right out of its place. He thinks maybe he was born with a broken heart, maybe it was supposed to be permanently damaged. And as he grew up, people took more pieces of his broken heart leaving him with this shell of something that doesn't even resemble a heart. Because it's guarded by so much barbed wire and latches, it's nearly impossible to access. But he wants to take all of that away and let you take what's left of it. He wants to give you every damaged piece of him he has left and maybe, just maybe, you'll offer a piece of yours for him. And his heart won't be permanently broken after all. Maybe. Just maybe, he's been wrong his entire life and he doesn't have to be broken forever.

Maybe he was born with a broken heart but maybe his heart wasn't destined to be permanently damaged.

"I'll take that." Jason beams at you and he wants to be involved in all of your hobbies.

He's not sentimental, but he wants to take all the pictures he possibly can in case you ever want them for a scrapbook. And he wants to go to your silly hobby stores and help you pick up more supplies. He wants to learn about how you choose a topic and how you plan your pages. He wants to know all of it.

"Can you show me how you do your scrapbooks sometime?"

Your brows furrow. "Um...yeah, of course. Didn't think you'd be into it."

"You like it." Jason states and you’re so head over heels for him.

"Can you teach me how to cook some of your favorites then?" You ask. "You like it." You state with ease.

Jason's smile is soft and loving. "Yeah, of course. Don't wanna learn your favorites?"

You shrug. "Yeah I do but...then I can make yours. You always make stuff for me."

"Alright." Jason chuckles softly and the both of you wonder how long you'll do this for. That was not a friendly thing either of you just offered and you both know it. "I'll teach you something tomorrow."

"Then I'll teach you tomorrow, too." You beam at him. "Think of a topic you want to do and find some pictures."

"Yes, ma'am." Sarcasm fills his words but he's so excited to learn about your thing. Jason leans in closer once more, almost kissing you before your attention is pulled to the doors by Bruce clearing his throat.

"Sorry to interrupt." Bruce states, eyeing the two of you and he finds this whole thing amusing. You both actually think he has no idea what's going on.

Jason leans back a little in his seat, cheeks shooting a fire engine red while you keep your attention on Bruce. Why do the older bats keep interrupting and how the hell do they always know? Jason though, can see that Bruce doesn't look mad or annoyed. He actually looks happy.

"Why are you so happy?" Jason questions.

"That's him being happy?" You whisper as you turn around to look at him and Jason chuckles quietly.

"Your suit has arrived." Bruce offers you a soft smile.

In all honesty, you thought that it would take longer but you can't be too surprised. This is Bruce Wayne.

"No shit?" You question and while you like to tease Jason about his suit, you do actually think it's kind of cool and you’ve been excited waiting for this day to come. That also means, you should be able to finally join them on patrol.

Jason moves to the edge of his seat because while this is your suit, he's just as excited. He remembers the first day he got to put on the Robin suit and he still deems that the best day of his life. He doesn't think it'll be like that for you but he's excited for you anyway.

"Would you like to see it?" Bruce asks.

"Hell yeah." You close your scrapbook and get to your feet, Jason immediately joining you.

The two of you follow Bruce down to the Batcave. Bruce hands you a suitcase, one similar to the one Jason has for the Robin suit. You head off to the bathroom/changing area and get changed. You look in the mirror and you beam with a sense of pride.

It's so lame and it's impractical to have to change but you really like it. In a way, it's as if it solidifies your role as a vigilante. You wear a mask and that's fine but this is different. This actually hides your identity better than just a mask does and you feel as if this is what you’re meant to do. The suit is the symbol of vigilantism and you feel so proud of it. It does not define you but you hold your head up high anyway. It just fits perfectly and it's yours. So, you walk out with your head high, a pep in your step.

Jason's eyes widen as he smiles widely, getting up from his seat at the batcomputer when you come into view. The suit is black but it has Pacific blue accents. The tactical belt is Pacific blue and the cape, that naturally has a hood, is also Pacific blue. There are two vertical stripes of blue fabric down your sides, the gloves that go almost to your elbow are blue as are your boots. The holsters hugging your thighs are even blue. Instead of a domino mask like Jason and Dick, you have a mask on the lower half of your face, covering your mouth. The mask is also blue. And Jason thinks you look absolutely amazing.

"Holy shit." Jason gawks.

"It's so cool, right?!!" You beam, nearly jumping.

Jason can't help but laugh. Of all people, he didn't think you would actually think the suit thing was cool. You’ve made fun of him a hand full of times about the Robin suit, mostly about the mask and cape. But, he finds it amusing anyway because you’re beaming at him and you’re he one that asked for the cape.

"I thought you said it was lame." Jason smirks at you.

"It is but it's so fucking cool!" You’re so excited and Jason can see the smile in your eyes. "Is my cape fireproof and bulletproof?" You look at Bruce who has a sense of pride. You’re not his vigilante in the same way Jason and Dick are and were but he thinks you'll do just fine.

"Yes, of course. All of your knives and tools fit in your belt and in the holsters." Bruce explains.

"This is so fucking cool, Bruce." You think you might vibrate right out of the suit from being too excited. "Thank you, seriously."

"You're very welcome."

"So, I can go on patrol now?" You look between the two of them.

"We go tonight." Bruce offers you a nod.

"You're a bat now." Jason quips, earning a fake glare from you.

"Guess, it's worth it. I mean, my cape is cooler than yours." You state as you pull the hood over your head. "I got a hood."

Jason lets out a heart-filled laugh. "Yeah, but yours was modeled after mine." Jason quips.

"Still it's so cool." You can't even fire back because this is just the coolest thing ever. "Gar is gonna lose his mind."

"He's gonna have a fuck ton of questions about it." Jason lets out a laugh.

"I know! But he'll think it's cool!"

"You're gonna hang out in that all day, aren't you?" Jason leans back against the desk to the batcomputer, a cocky and knowing grin on his lips.

"It is tempting." You let out a laugh as you look down over the suit.

"You'll be able to wear it plenty." Bruce chuckles and you remind him of Dick and Jason when they first put on their Robin suits.

Jason even said it was the best day of his life. It's like the suit makes it all real. It makes what you all do a reality, a sense of purpose. A sense of hope and that's why Bruce does it, recruits Robins. To help them and offer them a sense of purpose and hope. Even if things don't always go to plan.

"Thank you, again." You say genuinely.

"You're welcome."

"Can...can I show Gar? And the Titans?" You ask.

You’re not exactly sure where the line is on telling people. You know you can't just go out telling any random person, or friend that's not in your line of work. But it's the Titans, all of which know about Bruce.

"Yes." Bruce chuckles softly. "Just put it in the case when you're done." Bruce states before he exits the cave.

You pull out your phone and take a selfie, your eyes smiling for you and Jason shakes his head. You’re so pretty and funny and cute. Jason doesn't think he has enough words or even the proper words to describe how he feels about you. You walk up to Jason and hand him the phone.

"Wanna take one for me?" You ask.

"Sure." Jason chuckles softly and you stand in front of him, your hands on your hips with your head held proudly, the hood and the mask concealing most of your face and Jason has to give it to you. The hood was smart. "Here." Jason hands you the phone back as you look at the picture and you can't believe this is happening. Your entire life Batman and Robin have been the vigilantes of Gotham and now you’re one of them. It's insane. "It looks really good on you." Jason states softly.

"You think so?" You ask with hopeful eyes.

Jason nods, his eyes looking you up and down. "Yeah, it's fucking hot."

"Oh?" You question, pulling down your hood. "You think so?" Jason can't see it, but you’re giving him a teasing grin.

"Hell yeah." Jason closes some of the distance between you and he wonders if you see him like this in the Robin suit. You make fun of him sure, but now you’re the one in a suit and cape.

"Robin suit is pretty hot, too, ya know?" You shrug your shoulders lazily.

"You think so?" Jason's voice drops and he goes to look at your lips, realizing he can't so his eyes come back to yours and he swears he wants to drown in them. "Always making fun of me."

"Hell yeah." You pull the mask off and close the distance between you. "You're just easy to make fun of."

"Guess we just make a good team, huh?" Jason asks, his voice so low you can barely hear him and now he's freely glancing to your lips.

His hands rest on your hips, just above the tackle belt and he's never felt the fabric like this before, on someone else. There's a sturdiness to it. It's thick and textured under his callused palms. And a part of him, while he wants you to come on patrol, was a little nervous about it. With your whole ability to get kidnapped and held captive, or almost, it worries him just a little bit. But, you’re wearing this suit and he knows first hand that his suit protects him from so much every night and he doesn't feel so nervous about it anymore.

"Guess so." You lay your hands on his sides, lightly holding his t-shirt.

Jason grins before putting a finger under your chin and bringing your face to his, kissing you gently.

That night, you go out on patrol with Jason and Bruce for the first time. Going out with the Titans was always fun and riveting. It's one of the reasons you missed it but you were a big group. But, going out with just Bruce and Jason, it's just the three of you. And there's something about it you think you kind of prefer over the larger group. Even if that means working with Bruce. But, it's fun and you have a great time and patrol goes well. Nothing eventful really happened, just the usual small petty crimes but went well anyway.

The next day comes around Jason teaches you how to cook pot roast. It is his favorite meal after all. There's a lot of laughter and stolen glances. Jason's never taught anyone how to cook anything. It's always been him and then Alfred taught him some things. But that's all it ever was. And now he's here with you, teaching you and you’re like a sponge, absorbing everything he's telling you. You keep notes on your tablet and Jason thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You do all of it for him. And for a second, Jason catches him thinking that friends don't do that. Again.

You're friends, that's been established whenever Molly asks. Or Bruce gives either of you one of his looks that somehow say everything and nothing all at once but they wreak of suspicion. When you first started this, you asked if it were friends with benefits and Jason said it'd be fun. It is. It is a lot of fun. But, he does find that maybe you're crossing that line more often than not now where it's not really friends anymore.

You reach for his hand during movies and TV shows so you can play with his fingers and he rubs your back and plays with your hair. You kiss a lot more than when you're joking or sparring or more. You’re dedicated to learning his favorite meals and he's dedicated to learning your hobbies. You sleep together more often than not. You are almost always together or texting when you're not. He always makes sure you’re tucked in when he wakes up first. And he swears friends don't do this and a part of him wants to freak out about it. Push you away and call this whole thing quits but he looks over at you as you beams with pure and unfiltered joy, and he knows he won't do that.

He decides, he wants this. Whatever the fuck this is going to be, he wants it forever. With you. He wants you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Jason wants you to give him all of your broken pieces and let him mend them back together or replace them with every whole piece he has left. He swears up and down he doesn't deserve it and he doesn't deserve you. But, right now, in this moment watching you learn his favorite meal with the happiest smile he's ever seen, he can try to be someone who does deserve you. He'll try to be someone you deserve. So, he smiles back at you and walk up to you, wrapping you in his arms before kissing you.

And you teach him stuff about scrapbooking. You went to the store before dinner and you’re positive you were probably annoying because while Jason is interested, he also is a huge dork. He really enjoyed the googly eyes and insisted he would need them. For what? You don't know but sure. He was just interested in everything and you watched him with stars in your eyes because Molly is the only one who ever showed interest in your things. Molly is the only one who let you go on movie rants but Jason does, too. Jason does with enthusiasm and then it's like he keeps a mental note of everything you have ever said. You don't know why he does it or how but it makes you feel important in a way you’ve never felt before.

As the week goes by, you think patrolling with Bruce is so bizarre. He's been Batman for your entire life and now you’re....sitting on rooftops which is an entirely other situation, with him. It's weird as shit. But, you are enjoying it. You like helping innocent people stay safe. And you get to spend some more time with Jason, you get to watch Jason in his favorite element. Kicking ass. And he's hot while he does it, too.

Now, you're back at the Manor and you’re the first one to shower this time. Showering after patrol is actually the best type of shower. Even if you don't do anything, something about it feels refreshing. For you, it's kind of like you come home and then you don't have to be a hero. You can exist. You step into the shower and that part of yourself gets to wash away with the water. You think it might be better that way because you think Jason's issue is that Robin has become so embedded in every part of him, he doesn't know how to fully separate himself from it. And while you adore him, you don't want that.

You watch him and you listen to him scream in the middle of the night. He doesn't deserve it and you don't want that either. So, you separate yourself from it and when you’re here, during the day and after patrol, you are not a hero. You’re you.

Jason has found himself in the bathroom with you. It's a routine you’ve gotten into. One of you showers while the other one brushes your teeth and gets mostly ready for bed. Neither of you are even entirely sure how it started but there's a sense of comfort in it. It feels normal and safe this way. Even though the Manor is probably the safest place in all of Gotham.

And Jason can see you through the frosted glass and he adores you. You’re pretty and smart as hell, you’re dramatic and funny in all the right ways. You get his sense of humor which is a feat in itself. You get him and Jason likes to be close to you. You take care of him in ways no one has ever done. He didn't think he deserved it but you do. You clean up his cuts and scrapes and never even flinch. You give him a look sometimes with the roll of your eyes and all he can do is smirk because he knows you worry but you support him anyway because it's his thing. And you rub his back and you always know when his leg hurts.

Jason thinks maybe you don't know he notices when you notice but he does because you’re always extra cautious around him. You take care of him and he's thinking it should be the other way around.

"Hey, can I come in?" Jason asks, hiding the hesitance in his voice.

Your brows furrow but you’re not about to tell him no. "Um...sure?" Jason hears you laugh and his body erupts with goosebumps.

He strips down and pulls the door open just enough to get in the shower with you.

You turn around, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. "What're you doing?" You ask through a laugh. He's never joined you for a shower before, not that you mind.

"Thought I'd help." Jason offers you a smirk.

Your brows raise. "With?"

"You wash your hair yet?" Jason questions and you’re watching his expression carefully and sometimes, he's really, really good at hiding exactly what he's feeling and thinking. And this is one of those times.

"Yes." You state, your eyes slightly narrowing at him.

"Anything else?"

"No." You can't help but laugh and Jason loves the way it echoes on the title walls.

"I'll wash your back for you." Jason holds his head up high and you offer him a shrug, turning around.

Jason grabs his own soap and pours some in his hands. Once his hands are lathered, he gently runs his hands over your shoulders and your entire body erupts with goosebumps, static settling into the marrow of your bones. Jason is always gentle with you, even when he's not. He's careful and tender. But, this is different. You aren't laying down together or laughing about something stupid. And he's doing this just because. And it's just so nice of him and sweet and tender. All words you think no one else would ever use to describe him. But you do.

Jason rinses his hands once he's finished rubbing the soap in and he uses his hands to start washing it away. He's careful over the scars, not wanting to put too much pressure on them but he allows himself to trace over them. He wishes you didn't have them, not because he doesn't like them, but because you shouldn't have been put through that. He'd go to hell and back to prevent it from ever happening again. If anyone deserves better in this world, it's you. It's always you.

Jason presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are soft, brows slightly knitted together. You love how his hair sticks to his forehead when it's wet and the way his skin glistens with the waterdrops. You feel your heart start to race in your chest as he moves up your neck and you have never wanted anyone more than you want him. You think he's ruined you for anyone that could have possibly come after him. And every part of you couldn't be happier about it.

"You didn't use my soap." You whisper as Jason kisses your neck, you tilting your head to give him better access.

"Nope." Jason mutters against your skin before nipping at the base of your neck.

"Why's that?" You question, your eyes closing and you think you might suffocate under his touch. You feel him smirk against your skin, setting your entire body on fire.

"Because." Jason answers before he starts sucking a spot into your neck and he definitely does it on purpose. He likes when you smell like him.

Jason nips at the skin once more, pulling away to see the mark on your skin. And he smiles proudly to himself, before kissing the area and then kissing back to your shoulder again. You aren't sure what he's doing but you swear he could do this all night and you'd feel lucky.

Lucky is not how you have felt, ever. There have been moments where you’ve realized what you had before, with your mom, was lucky. And you realize Dick finding you was also lucky. Finding these friends was lucky. Finding Jason was lucky. But, you’ve never considered yourself a lucky person. Disaster and heartbreak seem to follow you around like a magnetic tornado. But, Jason is here and he's kissing you softly and gently and he's taking care of you and for the first time, you think you might be lucky.

Lucky to have him and deserve someone like him. You’re lucky to be here with him today and for the first time, you don't let the paranoia of something bad coming, ruin this moment. Whenever something good happens to you, something bad follows but right now, with Jason, you don't have a single thought like that. Because even with you not together, you’re lucky to have him. And you know it.

You turn around, looking up at him and Jason loves your eyes. "Let me." You whisper softly, grabbing your soap from the shelf and Jason chuckles softly, turning around.

You get some soap on your hands and start massaging it into his shoulders. Jason dips his head and he really could just evaporate into oblivion under your touch. It does something so special to him that he doesn't think he can explain. But he feels wanted and cared for. You’re careful, minding the scar on his back like he did with you and you trace over it, just like he did. And you massage some of the muscle as you rub the soap in because Jason's always too tense and his back is always filled with knots.

Jason lets out a soft groan as you work out a knot under the warm water and he doesn't know how you know to do it. He doesn't know why you do it and normally that would bother him. To not have the why. But, it's you and he doesn't need to know. Because he trusts you.

You kiss his back as you wash the soap away and Jason feels exposed again but in a way, he thinks he could live like this forever. Exposed to only you. It's not so scary when it's with you. And you can feel him relax under your touch as you smile against his skin. You can always get him to relax. And you always notice.

He'll be tense, maybe he doesn't even realize it, but then you take his hand in yours or you kiss him anywhere or you put your legs on top of his and suddenly, you see him let out a breath as if he's never been able to breathe properly in his life. And his shoulders move forward just a little and he gains this half-cocked grin, every single time.

When you started this whole thing, you knew. You knew how you felt about him because you’ve always known. And you knew he did, too. You hate conversations about feelings because it's exposing yourselves to being left bleeding wide open. It exposes you to the elements of heartache and being alone. It leaves you exposed to allowing someone else to hold the hammer that could finally shatter the last remaining pieces of your hearts. And you do enough bleeding and breaking for yourselves. But, you don't need to have the conversation because you’ve always known. Even when you want to deny it because that sometimes still seems easier than allowing each other to hold the hammer.

You slide your hands up his chest and rest your cheek against his back, hugging him softly. You feel Jason vibrate as a chuckle pulls through his lungs. He rests his hands on top of yours before picking one of them up and kissing the top of it. Jason turns around and places his hands on your hips, squeezing softly and he loves how your skin is soft compared to his hands. You offer him a gentle smile as you rest your hands on his shoulders and you love the way his shoulders feel on your hands, warm and sturdy.

"You didn't use my soap." Jason states with so much warmth you swear you'll never be cold again.

"Nope." You smile up at him.

"Why's that?" Jason dips his head closer to you.

He holds your hips like they're a lifeline to hope and happiness. And he wants to hold on forever because sometimes he needs a reason to keep holding onto hope. And you, in the middle of the chaos, offer him that hope. And he wants you, he wants this, late nights in the shower with you after patrol, cooking dinner with you, doing dishes, reading and hanging out in the library with you, today, tomorrow, and every day after that.

"Because." You whisper softly, brushing your nose against his.

Jason rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for just a second. There's this feeling in his chest, something he doesn't think he's ever felt before. It's in his chest and his stomach and seeping into every crevice of his brain. It's in his blood and bones and knees. It's warm like a campfire and thrilling. It's like lightning struck his entire body and this vibrating, burning feeling is the aftermath. He feels so happy. And instead of butterflies in his stomach, it's more like lightning bugs coming out during the first warm day of the year. Flickering with light and warmth, glowing. A reminder that the cold days are only temporary and it will be warm again. It's easy and subtle and calming. And scary and thrilling and exciting and happy. It's everything all at once. He doesn't know exactly what that feeling is, what the vibrating in his bones is or the weakness in his knees is, but he knows it feels like home with you.

You press your lips to his and it's gentle and soft. The kiss is sweet as honey and Jason pulls you impossibly close to him, your chests touching. And he wants to devour you.

You snake your hands into his wet hair, giving a light tug and Jason's hands trail to your ass, giving you a squeeze. You squeal against him and Jason chuckles against your lips. And you feel his length growing between you.

You take him into your hand, pumping him slowly and eagerly while Jason bites your bottom lip. The heat grows between your thighs as the kiss grows sloppy. Jason is heaving softly against you and his right hand snakes between the two of you, teasing your hole with a single finger. Your knees weaken with the touch and you let out a soft whimper, feelings your body desperate for more.

"Eager?" Jason chuckles hoarsely against your lips.

"So are you." You quip back, pumping just the tip as you feel precum leak onto your hand, mixing with the water. Jason lets out a groan, jerking his hips forward. "You're perfect, Jay." You whisper against his lips.

Jason’s heart booms against his ribcage as his head swims with praise. His cock twitches in your hand and the only thing he wants to do is pin you against the wall and drown right into you.

"Shit." Jason mutters as you pump him quicker, squeezing more at the tip before going back down the shaft.

Jason slides a second finger into you, you letting out another moan. His palm brushes over your clit with every pump and it’s like a bolt of electricity every single time. Your breath hitches as you feel Jason smirk against your lips. His fingers curl into you further, gaining an eclectic moan from you and he loves the way your moans sound reverberating against the walls.

"C'mere." Jason mutters pulling his hand away as you let out a whimper from the lack of contact. 

Jason grabs your hips and turns you around so you’re facing the wall. Jason lines himself up with her gaping hole as you place your hands on the wall for security. Jason slides in with ease thanks to your wetness and the water spraying down on you. Jason starts pumping into you softly and then firmly. Your moans grow louder. Jason grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you up to him.

"Shh, don't want Bruce to hear." Jason's voice is graveled and you whimper, eyes rolling back.

"Jay." You let a quiet whine. "More."

There’s a snicker that falls from Jason’s throat and it’s rough and warm against your skin. Jason is nothing if not a tease in more ways than one.

Jason particularly likes these situations where he can get you to nearly beg him to fuck you. It sends his entire body into a lust-filled frenzy, taking all of his self-control not to completely lose it.

"What was that?" Jason asks, a snicker lingering in his voice.

Your voice catches in your throat, a whine falling from your lips as Jason's thrusts stall. You buck your hips back, trying to get more contact, trying desperately fill every part of you. Jason lets your hair go, gripping your hips tighter so you can’t move.

 "I didn't quite hear you." He teases and you want to bite the smirk off his lips you knows he's wearing right now.

"More, Jay." You get out through gritted teeth. “Please.”

Jason chuckles, pulling out and slamming into you. "Anything for you, princess."

Jason pumps harder, fast, and deeper into your gaping hole and you can feel yourself about to unravel. Jason can feel it with the way your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust. He reaches his hand down to circle your clit.

You let out quiet gasp before it turns into a near pornographic moan. Tears brim your eyes as the pit in your stomach grows thicker and heavier. Your body feels like it’s on fire while your hands almost try to grip the slick tile wall. Jason moves his free hand to your mouth, him still pumping eagerly into you.

“C’mon, babe,” Jason’s voice is low and raspy, hot and lust-filled. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Jason nips your neck.

You mutter against his hand as your eyes roll back in your head, bolts of electricity ripping through your body. Your knees shake as your teeth sink into Jason’s hand. Jason lets outa  hiss as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic.

He feels himself nearing his own orgasm and he quickly pulls out, spraying into the shower and down the drain. His chest heaves as he hangs his head, the high lingering around him as you turn around. You offer him a lazy and lust-blown smile. Your breathing is ragged but you do adore him with every piece of you.

Jason’s pupils nearly cover every piece of green in his eyes but there’s a delighted and tender smile on his lips. You watch his chest rise quickly, the water highlighting every raised and toned muscle on his torso. His hair sticks slick to his forehead and there’s just something about him that makes you feel alive.

"Can I wash your hair?" You ask bluntly and Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He looks back at you, brows raised. "Really?"

You shrug. "Yeah, of course. I like your hair." There’s a wide, toothy smile on your face as your eyes are hopeful and lively.

Jason shrugs one shoulder, a delicate smile pulling his lips up. "Sure." He chuckles before washing his hands under the water.

The next morning rolls around and you make sure you’re up earlier than usual, before Jason. It's his birthday today. You wanted to make sure you could grab his presents and be back in his room before he wakes up. So, you’re quiet and careful getting up and heading to your room.

You grab the wrapped presents you have hidden under your bed and then you head back to Jason's room. When you get back, he's stirring awake so you hide the presents behind your back before getting back on the bed, sitting on your knees.

"Morning," Jason says groggily but he's got this lazy and tired smile that makes you melt.

He's so confused. You’re smiling and the morning sun peaking in through the curtains is kissing your skin in just the right ways. You look so beautiful. But you are never up before he is, not when it's not because of a nightmare. Yet, here you are, smiling and beaming and he can't even imagine why.

"Good morning, happy birthday, Jay." You bounce slightly on your knees and Jason lets out a tired laugh.

"Thank you." He shakes his head, grabbing his phone from the charger and checking the time. "You woke up early for that?"

"Yes." You nod your head once and you feel the nervousness flood your veins. "It's your birthday, of course, I did."

"It's not a big deal." Jason lets out a scoff and his birthday has never been a big deal. He was lucky if anyone even remembered besides himself.

"Yeah, it is." You state confidently. "I got you some stuff." You safe softly as Jason sits up.

"You fucking got me something?" Jason questions, trying to figure out when you would have done that and how.

You give him a shy smile, reaching behind you and grabbing one of the presents. "Of course, I did." You hand it to him and it's wrapped in metallic red wrapping paper and Jason can't help but think it matches his suit. You did it on purpose.

He takes the gift softly from you and you watch him nervously, waiting to see if he likes it. Jason's heart stops as he opens a first-edition Frankenstein that's in a clear display case box. He looks to you with wide eyes and he never expected this. He doesn't own first editions. He's never asked because he's so worried he'll ruin them but you wrapped it in a box for a display. How the hell did you even know that? And he's only read it to you once and you knew it was one of his favorites.

"A first edition?" There's a softness in his voice as if he's unsure how to react.

You nod softly. "I asked Bruce for help but yeah." You reach behind you and grab the other one. "Here."

After dinner a few weeks ago, you followed Bruce into the living room to ask for help in getting Jason a few things for his birthday. You hate even having to ask but you knew nothing about getting first editions of books or money to get those first editions. But, Bruce was really nice and actually seemed happy to help.

"You didn't have to." Jason shakes his head, his grip on the case light, careful not to smudge it.

"I know but I wanted to." You shrug your shoulders softly and you think he deserves the entire world.

Jason shakes his head and opens the next present. This time, it's a first edition of Pride and Prejudice wrapped the exact same way and he just doesn't know how you knew that. How you knew these two books and also to put them into display cases. No one's ever paid such close attention to the things he likes, besides Bruce.

"Another one!?"

"I know you really like those books. You're a fast reader but I see you with Frankenstein and Pride and Prejudice often enough to know you really like them. And they're two of the books you have two copies of." You point to the corner of his room where he has his bookshelf. "Also...uh....there's more." You say with hesitance and you reach behind yourself, grabbing two thick sheets of paper and you hand them to him with shaking hands. "I made those for you."

Jason's entire face softens as he looks over the first one. It's like a scrapbook page, like what you showed him to do. But this one has what looks like torn pages from Frankenstein, his favorite exerts and quotes. There are pictures from the movie and Jason just blinks at you before moving the second one. This one is the same but for Pride and Prejudice and he is so confused but he feels so important and he can't even begin to understand it. He just doesn't know how you knew all of that about him without him ever having to tell you.

"How the fuck did you even know?" Jason's voice is breathy. "My favorite lines and shit?"

"When I saw you had two copies, I looked in them and saw you annotate one like a fucking nerd," You give him a smirk. "So, uh, I did not destroy a book. I just used Photoshop and made the book page images using your quotes and stuff you had underlined and had notes next to.” You explain, the nervousness growing in your stomach because you can't tell if he likes them or not.

"Why would you do all this?" His brows are pulled in a tight line, no smirk or grin across his face and you’re thinking maybe you overstepped.

You know you both cross the friend boundary all the time. A part of you wants to stop saying you're just friends when someone asks at this point. But, you are and you’re wondering if this was too much. But, he means the world to you and he struggles with himself. You just want him to know he's important to you, everyday.

"Because you're my favorite person." You suck in a breath. "And this is the day the earth was blessed with your insane presence." You laugh softly. "You deserve it."

"Thank you." Jason looks back to the pages and he thinks this must have taken a lot of time and planning.

He thinks this must have been something important to you to make because you don't show anyone your scrapbook stuff. But, you made this for him. He's not sentimental, but he swears he'll hold onto this for the rest of his life.

"Do you like—"

"Yeah! I fucking love it, thank you, I'm serious. I'm gonna frame these ya know?" Jason lets out a soft laugh, giving you a teasing grin.

You feel heat running over your cheeks. "I'm glad you like them, Jay."

Jason scoots closer to you and puts his hand under your chin. "Thank you." His voice is soft before he presses a kiss to your lips and you want to live here forever. His birthday might be your favorite day of the year.

"How do you remember all of this shit?" Jason pulls away, scanning your face.

"Because it's important to you." You state so casually and Jason is so shocked he can't find any words. It's as if it were the easiest sentence you ever said. "It matters to you so it matters to me."

That feeling in his chest is back. It’s coming at him in full force like a wrecking ball. Banging and pounding against every bone in his body. He’s sitting down but he swears his knees are weak and his head is foggy. His chest is on fucking fire but the only thing he feels right now is a tender and comforting type of warmth.

"Thank you." Jason pulls you into him and kisses you again and he thinks this is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life. With you.

prev. chapter | next chapter 

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

A/n: I promise I’m getting to the angst lol But because I know what I wrote for that and what I have planned, I’m giving you guys a lot of fluff on purpose lol but I’m excited to get there which is why I’m combining chapters lol

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

#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #jason todd x yn #petrichor #jason todd smut

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 22

Fic masterlist

I’m too much of a chicken to experience something remotely close to the game Rowaelin played this chapter, so I’m thanking Reddit for the lended knowledge lol. It’s very quick though I just always over-research

Warnings: brief mention of a cult, moderate alcohol intake

Words: 3,3k

They were gonna die in this hellhole, and Aelin was killing Rowan a second time when they met in the afterlife.

They’ve looked everywhere for clues, tried cracking the puzzles, turned every hint inside out. This was a dead end, and Rowan only had one job: pick the fucking lock.

Just one more lock to open this wooden box, and they’d be free.

Aelin’s heartbeat picked up when she heard voices and steps outside. They were coming back. The members of the cult were coming back.

She met Rowan’s agitated stare from across the room, but he didn’t make a fuss, just frowned at the lock and went back to work, his posture rigid.

They were absolutely going to die in this basement, and Aelin wasn’t a fan of losing.

Aelin eyed the pentagram drawn on the floor, a heavy weight on her chest. She needed to do it. There’s no other choice, she repeated to herself as she laid down on it, a sense of emptiness taking over.

"To thee, O mighty Game Master, I offer myself willingly. May my sacrifice be a beacon, lightning the way for those I leave behind in the form of one more hint.”

She heard Rowan rushing her way, but it was done. Her self-sacrifice would give him one more clue, and he’d win this game for them.

“Take me, Master,” she repeated.

“NO!” Rowan fell to his knees before her, his arms wrapped around her waist. “I can’t bear it, Aelin. I can’t.”

She stroked his cheek, nothing but resignation in her eyes. “I’m doing this for you, babe. I’ll see you on the other side.”

“Let me find another way. I will find another way, Aelin—“

“Do you want me to repeat the three hints?” The escape room’s employee said through the speakers, “I know there’s a pentagram on the floor, but you can’t make a human sacrifice in exchange for another one.”

Aelin sighed, her body relaxing against the floor. Her clothes must be dirty with chalk now, and she didn’t even want to leave the game, but it would be a necessary evil. Rowan held out a hand, helping her get up.

“How’s the lock-picking thing?”

Rowan narrowed his eyes at her, humorless. “Reverse-engineering,” he corrected.

She crossed her arms, silently asking him to just answer her already.

He sighed. “Not great.”

Aelin analyzed the box and the padlock locking it, then looked at the card reader at the door. One card. One card was all they needed to win this.

Without thinking, she violently shook the box between her hands.

“What’re you doing?” Rowan said.

“It’s a wooden box. Maybe there’s a crack the card could slip through.”

Rowan froze for a moment, blinking at the scene. Then he held out his hands, “Gimme that.”

“What?”

“It’s a wooden box,” he repeated, his tone low and astonished.

Next thing she knew, he was pressing all sides of the box against the card reader. When the door unlocked, Aelin’s laugh was nothing short of maniac.

“It’s a proximity card!” she shouted while jumping on him for a hug.

“It’s a proximity card,” he echoed, tugging her impossibly closer and kissing the side of her head.

Outside the escape room, the employee looked pissed. “The combination for the lock was on the back of the blinds.”

Rowan looked completely unaffected by the snarky Game Master. “You should put the card in a metal box if you don’t want people doing it my way.”

They were met by a cool breeze outside, the sidewalk damp in a way that indicated that it must’ve rained while they were playing inside. She turned to take a look at Rowan, and he was already studying her. Despite the cloudy weather, something about him—his features, the way he carried himself, or the frequency in which his lips tugged up today—had a lightness to it, something Aelin didn’t know she longed to see so badly.

She squeezed his hand and instead of going somewhere—doing what they were actually supposed to do on a sidewalk—he leaned down and pecked her lips. It was a quiet mid-afternoon anyway, they weren’t slowing anyone down.

He hummed contently in a way he sometimes did after tasting her, cupping her face as if she was something precious.

She chuckled and checked the time. “We don’t have to pick up Maisie for another hour, so…” Aelin looked around, checking if there was somewhere interesting nearby; they had time to explore, but not too much time. She pointed at a quiet pub, wooden-looking in an old-timey way. “Wanna go there?”

It was nice having the day for themselves, no work to attend after working the graveyard shift. And as much as family time was her favorite, it was refreshing to do some adult stuff other than sneaking out from the five-year-old to get some action with Rowan.

After they woke up late in the morning, they decided their first date should have all the things they wouldn’t be able to do with a kid. So far, it included a fancy lunch somewhere they couldn’t even pronounce, some place they wouldn’t trust Maisie to hold the glasses. Then they went to a horror-themed escape room—not exactly romantic, but why not?—and their last stop was this expensive-looking pub.

They’d be back to princesses and Paw Patrol and nursery rhymes within the hour, but Aelin was excited for that too, to hang out with Maisie again. She got too spoiled with this new thing with Rowan, sleeping at his house during his days of custody. Now that she saw her daughter every day, Aelin was struggling to understand how she spent two, three days in a row without her. One sleepover at Auntie Sellene’s and she already missed Maisie like crazy.

The empty pub’s lights were dim, and the vintage furniture mixed with jazz covers of modern songs made Aelin feel like she was in an old movie. Rowan led her to a booth by the wall, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off the cocktail section of the menu.

“You want a drink,” she pointed out.

He frowned at the menu. “They just have a distinct selection, that’s all.”

Biting back a laugh, she nudged him. “Go on. I’ll drive.”

“Just one.”

She smiled. “I know, Buzzard.”

He seemed reluctant at first, but soon enough he was nursing his one whisky cocktail with a bottle of water while Aelin drank some mango juice.

“I was searching something online these days…” Rowan said, fidgeting with his cup.

“What was it?”

“I asked when I should tell my own child that I’m dating their mother. It was the first time Google completely failed me.”

Aelin snorted at the thought of a distressed Rowan searching this on his phone. She can imagine why there aren’t many online articles about their specific situation.

“Did you have a rule?” Aelin asked. “For how long before you introduce someone to Maisie, I mean.”

“Did you?”

“Six months,” she answered, plain and simple. “I never got that far with someone after Maisie, but I’ve had a bit of a relationship disaster because of this, so having the rule beforehand establishes a boundary, you know? In case somebody feels like rushing things.”

Rowan only stared at her, lips flat, looking sullen. He does know that she wouldn’t apply to him the same rules she did to a stranger, right?

“You’re not just ‘somebody’, though,” she added, “You’re her dad. That changes things.”

“Was it Lieutenant Cortland?” Rowan asked, completely changing the point of the conversation. Of everything she said, this was what he focused on?

Aelin crossed her arms, her eyes narrowed at him. “How do you even know I dated him?”

The faint blush on his cheeks must be because of the whiskey. “You told Elide, who told Lorcan, who told me.”

“Yeah, I was talking about Sam,” she finally answered, her back resting against the cushioned seat. “Single parents abide by different rules when dating, and not everyone understands that. He wanted too much too soon, and I wasn’t ready.” There was also the issue that Aelin wasn’t exactly eager to get serious with Sam, but she didn’t feel like adding this part to the conversation.

Rowan nodded, looking down at his half-empty cocktail. He looked almost crestfallen, and Aelin was struggling to understand why.

“So… six months.” He sipped his drink. “You want to wait six months before we tell people?”

Aelin wanted to argue that, technically, they’ve already told people; their best friends fit into the ‘people’ category, but that’s not what he meant. Rowan wanted to be able to kiss her in front of Maisie, feel his parents’ pride when he told them the news, stop pretending they’re not a couple at Maisie’s school so those fucking moms would stop hitting on him.

Gods, she wanted that so bad. Especially the last part.

Still, Aelin and Rowan carried a lot of responsibility together. This little bubble with no questioning of their relationship or putting more expectations on them wouldn’t last forever, but she felt comfortable in it.

Besides, Aelin didn’t like to even entertain the thought of her relationship with Rowan not working out so soon, but if it didn’t… Well, she’d like to keep a last shred of dignity, if only to attend Yulemas at Uncle Orlon’s.

“Not six months,” she finally replied. “It’s not fair to use the same rules with you as I'd use with a stranger.” Aelin grimaced. “Three? I tried asking Yrene, but she wasn’t really helpful.” Therapists and their maddening non-answer answers.

“Three months.” Rowan slowly nodded, his eyes vacant. “One down, two more to go?”

“Sounds good,” Aelin said, and Rowan agreed, but he didn’t look like it sounded good. With a sigh, she rested her chin on his shoulder and held his hand. “We can talk this over again if you realize it doesn’t sound good to you, okay? We can talk anything over again if you feel like we should.”

His answer was a kiss to her forehead.

˜˜

“Three months?!” Lysandra shrieked after Aelin told her about that conversation, and her loud tone earned a few glares from the ladies at the table near them, not that she cared. Still, she lowered her voice to say, “Honey, if I had a man like that, Timmy would be calling him ‘daddy’ by the third month.

“I mean, you could.” Aelin wiggled her eyebrows before taking another bite of her chocolate cake. Rowan was currently with Maisie, Dorian and Fenrys at the adoption event, and she used this kid-free time to try on this new pastry shop with Lys.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “I could what?”

Aelin stirred her coffee, a Cheshire cat grin on her face. “Hunter told Asterin and Asterin told me that Wesley has a crush on you.” And this is completely reliable gossip because Hunter, Asterin’s husband, is close friends with him.

“Oh.”

She frowned. “You don’t sound excited.” Half of the single moms had a crush on Wesley, the widowed single dad. Aelin was part of the other half who didn’t really care about him, but could understand the appeal. And she heard her friend comment about how ‘fine’ Wesley looks more than once. “I thought you’d like to hear that.”

“Well, obviously, I’m flattered.” Lys took a bite of her lemon pie, her chin in her hand while she clamped her lips shut to hide a smile. “But I kind of just started seeing someone.”

Aelin gaped, surprised. “Tell me.”

She didn’t know who he or she was, but she was happy for her. Mala knows the amount of shit she took from Timmy’s dad, some entitled man from Adarlan she hated just from hearing a few stories here and there.

“So, remember that birthday party we went to last month?” Aelin nodded, so Lys continued, “You posted a picture with me. You tagged me in it.”

“As millennial Instagram etiquette requires me to do.”

“Your cousin Aedion followed me, and—“

“No!” Aelin poured all the disgust she felt into that one word, grimacing. “I mean, ew!”

Lys straightened her posture. “I get it if you're upset.”

“Why would I be upset? Because you’re too good for my idiot cousin?” Aelin schooled her face into neutrality and sighed, trying to look a little more serious so she could give Lys a proper response. “Look, it’s fine. Just spare me from the sordid details, and we’re good.”

“Alright.” She relaxed into her chair, looking pleased with that answer.

“So you two are a thing now?”

“Not exactly. We chatted a lot and he asked me out, but I didn’t want to go without checking with you first. But I also didn’t want to make a fuss because of one date, you know? So I went. It was amazing. I blamed it on the sangria for making me see the date through rose-colored glasses. So I went on another one, completely sober, just to make sure. It was so good that I almost begged him to fuck—“

“Fucking Mala!” Aelin’s face morphed back into disgust. “Okay, I get it, it’s new. Good luck with his pineapple pizza obsession.”

To be honest, she wasn’t all that repulsed, and she totally blamed it on Rowan. It was those near-daily nighttime orgasms and early morning cuddles—sometimes orgasms again—getting to her head. Aelin was so happy she felt delirious; and after all Aed and Lys have been through in the dating scene, if they managed to find that as well, she was happy for them.

Said reason for her incredible mood texted her, asking her to drop by his place to talk. As if she’d go anywhere else, being his day of Maisie’s custody. His tone almost made it feel like old times, but Aelin knew better. They had a child together, they always had something to talk about.

Knowing her daughter, the adoption fair must’ve been a total chaos. Aelin told Dorian it was a bad idea to bring Maisie along, but her friend insisted on playing the cool uncle.

She promised that she wouldn’t ask for a dog at the fair, but it was just to set expectations. Maisie’s a puppy-loving five-year-old, it’d be ridiculous to think that she wouldn’t throw a tantrum when he saw countless puppies for adoption.

On the way home, her chest constricted to think of a distressed Rowan trying to wrangle his daughter. He was probably exhausted.

Aelin parked her car outside. She grabbed her key to his house—which they recently traded for practicality—but before she could get to the porch, Rowan jumped out of Maisie’s bedroom window, his hulking figure swaying a little as he landed. He darted her way before she could enter the house.

She grasped his face with both hands and kissed him, and it lit her up from inside out, waking up the fluttery feeling that kept mostly dormant while she was away. “Was this a throwback?” She gave the window a pointed look. “Because if you’re trying to make me think of our first night together…”

When he jumped her bedroom window because she still lived with Uncle Orlon and Darrow. Aelin had no idea she’d think about that night to this day.

Rowan didn’t look overwhelmed by memories of great sexy times, though. The crease between his eyebrows was deeper than usual, his lips tightly pressed together. He took a glance at the window he came through.

“We need to talk.”

He looked serious. Way too serious. Aelin took a step back, his keys still on her hand while her pulse picked up. “Is Maisie alright?”

“Yes!” He grimaced, realizing that his secretiveness freaked her out. “She’s alright, but I did something…”

Aelin tuned him out, her mom instincts taking over. She hurried to his front door, as fast as her breathing, and opened it without listening to Rowan and whatever made his speech frantic. She’d check on Maisie, then she’d pay attention to him.

And that’s when she saw it.

It looked like a hurricane passed through his living room. His coffee table was a mess, full of papers and unopened shopping bags. Pet shop shopping bags. A small, pink carrier was left on the corner, close to some uncleaned dog poop.

He wouldn’t.

Rowan absolutely wouldn’t. Not without telling her first.

Aelin shot her most menacing look of disbelief at him but, to be fair, Rowan held his ground. Her fury never scared him but, right now, she wished otherwise.

The house was absolutely silent, and he didn’t fight her this time when she marched into Maisie’s bedroom.

When she opened the door, her daughter’s wide grin paused the boiling under her skin.

“Hi, Mommy,” she whisper-yelled. There was a small ball of golden fur asleep on the little girl’s arm, so she couldn’t get up to greet Aelin. It was obnoxiously cute. Like meeting a new mom at a maternity ward, but it’s little girls and puppies. “I’ll tell you when Fleetfoot’s awake, so we can play with her.”

Aelin kissed Maisie’s forehead. “I’d love that.” Then she left as quietly as she came in.

He fucking did it, Aelin realized, heat plummeting through her stiff muscles.

“Seriously, Rowan?” she whisper-yelled back in the living room.

He opened his mouth to speak but Aelin beat him to it.

“Are you kidding me right now?” she pointed at the direction of Maisie’s closed bedroom door. “You gave her a dog? And you didn’t think to consult her own mother first?”

“I’m sorry.” Rowan looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “I tried my best bribes—“

She plastered a fake smile on. “Let me guess, they didn’t work.”

Rowan put both hands up, a flicker of relief on his face, like Aelin was finally beginning to understand him. “Yes! And—“

Aelin could only imagine the scene Maisie must’ve caused. Still, she yelled, “And you have no authority over a five-year-old?”

He does. Aelin knows he does, as much as she knows she’s prone to say hurtful things when she’s mad.

“Come on, Aelin, the house is big. It’s staying on my place, I’m taking full financial and caregiving responsibilities—

Aelin tilted her head back, her angry laughter almost berserk. “You fucking bet you are!”

His entire posture deflated, and Rowan had a wounded expression intense enough she looked away.

“Can’t we just talk?” Rowan’s voice was soft in an uneasy way, a mix of hesitancy and vulnerability. “We could go back to Yrene’s pdfs and—“

“Not now.” Aelin crossed her arms. “I’m gonna rage alone at home until I feel empty, and then I’m gonna think about it. Once I’m done thinking about it without wanting to say mean things to you, I’ll let you know.”

“And if you don’t?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Stop feeling angry, I mean.”

She adjusted her purse around her shoulder. “Then I’ll see you in therapy.”

They were still going, though their sessions have been rather uneventful after they got together. Maybe Yrene knew something like this would blow up sometime. Whatever. Aelin’s not the shrink here.

Rowan nodded without meeting her eye, then let her go.

She didn’t even get her car, needing the small trek to her house. Way too small for all the thinking she needed to do, actually.

The chilly wind bit into her bones, and Aelin soon regretted the thin shirt she wore. The street was deserted, the ruffle of the sidewalk trees being the background noise to her thoughts.

Fuck, that dog is cute. No matter how much Aelin raged, how petty she acted, she knew how this would end.

Besides, it wasn’t about the dog. Deep down, Aelin knew why she was upset.

They got together, and when they were starting to feel like an united front, Rowan committed to a decade-long life decision without her. What was up with that?

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @backtobl4ck-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

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#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #look at us now #rowaelin fanfic #throne of glass fanfic

[searchingforakeythatdoesntexist]

Day 16: "Careful, Crowley is watching you!" - Good Omens, Fem!Crowley

Quick Daily Challenge & Ko-Fi Announcement!

The Ineffable Smut War seems very fun to watch....

Hi, dear Good Omens fam!

Multiple things to say tonight, so here I go.

First: THANK YOU! My Good Omens artwork “We’re bound” just hit the 300th upvote today on the Good Omens After Dark Reddit! For my first real big entry in the Ineffable War, I just couldn’t believe it yesterday. And still can’t today either. Wow. And the community is so lively there, come on, take a peek! (lien)

So, thanks for all the enthusiastic comments on my Reddit post! You made me cry – my day.

Second: since I began to post on Reddit, you were a few to ask me if I do prints of my art and/or if I have a Ko-Fi/Patreon…. Ehm ??? Who? Me? It’s very sweet to hear, by I still feel like a newbie there!

Well, more seriously, I can’t say I have never thought about becoming a remunerate artist one day (eh, childhood dream…) but it still feels so unreal. But, because I have to start somewhere, I opened a Ko-Fi!

It is brand new, freshly brewed!

For now my content is free but please be sure that any tips are greatly welcome! I would love to hear your questions and/or your suggestions. I still have to improve this page find some new ways to share my art with you all (prints? commissions? anything?). For now, I will start to post updates on my Ko-Fi very soon, I’ll probably put there some unpublished sketches and linearts, and maybe I’ll even post earlier there my next projects. Come take a peek!

Thanks again! See you later, for my next big entrie in the Ineffable Smut War! And the Daily Challenge might start again soon... with some little improvements... So, stay tuned!

About our Crowley of the Day : it's just a quick sketch (2 hours) of our favorite demon. I'm still trying to improve this style before pursuing my next big Smut project :-)))))

"Daily-Challenge like", but it was an old lineart. I re-used it and changed a lot of things then coloured it.

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

Buy me a coffee? ♥ https://ko-fi.com/elenthya ♥

#ko fi #Good Omens #Crowley #Aziraphale #Aziracrow #Ineffable husbands #Ineffable lovers #Ineffable dumbasses #David Tennant #Michael Sheen #ElenthyaAndGoodOmens #ElenPersonnalChallenge

[daisynik7]

This is a long one, sorry babe, the socks and feet fetish just gave me such a funny idea for a gag gift for Nanami. Here where I live we have these things called "nakurnjak", it would translate to willy warmer (men wear it in winter to keep their willy's warm) 😭😭😭😭 and the idea of reader buying, even better knitting or crocheting it them self for Nanami is so funny in my head (she could make several to match with his ties!). I did bit of research and to my surprise this fits Nanami's Danish roots BECAUSE they had a tradition where a girl would present her boyfriend with a willy warmer to see how seriously he took their relationship. If the gift was rejected, this was seen as evidence that he was not yet ready for marriage. Reader may or may not be hinting something @ Kento. (References: wiki and reddit)

Pairing: boyfriend!Nanami x f!reader

cw: established relationship, language, suggestive dialogue, fluff

Author’s Notes: Hi anon! Thank you for the request, this was a fun one! I hope you like it and get a good laugh out of it like I did. 😊

With the weather getting colder lately, you decide to put your knitting skills to use. It starts with easy projects, like scarves and bonnets. One day, you go online, searching for different ideas on what to make. Several minutes of browsing, you finally find your next creation: a willy warmer. It’s the last item listed on this website, more of a throwaway as a joke. But you’re absolutely serious about making it. Just thinking about it has you giggling. Upon further research, you discover that in certain traditions, a willy warmer is gifted to a boyfriend to see if they are ready for marriage. This motivates you even further to take on this ambitious project in hopes that Nanami, your boyfriend of several years now, will finally take a hint. 

It takes a while to knit it, but eventually, your hard work pays off and the results are outstanding. You manage to recreate his signature spotted tie pattern exactly, so now he’s matching, assuming he accepts this ridiculous gift. 

After dinner, the two of you digest your meal on the couch while watching a show you’re following. At the end of the episode, you pause it, reaching into the drawer beside you to retrieve your creation. He eyes you nervously. “What’s going on?”

You grin, holding it out to him. “Surprise!”

He gives you a confused look, waiting for you to explain. When you continue to stare at him, beaming, he asks, “What is this?”

“Babe, you’re Danish, you should know what this is!” You pinch at the tip and the balls, stretching it as if that makes it any clearer. 

His brows are furrowed in uncertainty. “It looks like a penis.”

Laughing, you say, “That’s because it’s for your penis. It’s a willy warmer. I knitted it myself. And it matches your tie!”

He chuckles, his expression relaxing. “What on earth am I going to use this for?”

“It’s pretty self-explanatory, honey. You use it to warm your willy.”

“I don’t need to warm my willy.”

You frown at him. “So you don’t want it?”

“I appreciate the gesture, sweetheart, but I don’t think I’m going to use it.”

Crossing your arms, you toss the willy warmer back into the drawer, slamming it shut with a bit of aggression. “Fine. If you don’t want it, I’m sure somebody else will.” You stand up, stomping towards your bedroom, kicking it closed.

~~~

Nanami fucked up. 

He knew it as soon as the smile dropped from her face. It would have been so easy to accept the silly gift like a good boyfriend should, but, of course, he had to mess it up in a royal fashion. 

Immediately, he follows her to the bedroom, finding that it’s locked. With a small knock, he says, “Honey, I’m sorry. I’ll use it, okay? If it makes you happy.” He leans against the frame, pressing his ear to the surface to hear any response. When none comes, he sighs, returning to the couch. 

He remembers what she mentioned earlier, about him being Danish, and he wonders what that has to do with it. Phone in hand, he goes to a private browser to do a quick search. After a few minutes, he finds out that hereally fucked up. The tradition says that a man must accept the willy warmer as a gift whenever it is presented to him to indicate that he is ready for marriage. 

He buries his face in his hands, groaning at his mistake. Of course he’s ready for marriage. He’s been in love with her for years. And while they’ve discussed it in detail, imagining with fondness about their future together, he’s never actually given her a straight answer about when it will happen. She’s always been patient, never one to pressure him about timelines or threaten him with ultimatums. This is the closest she’s gotten to it, in the form of some crude penile covering. He chuckles to himself at the absurd situation they find themselves in. Still, he has to find a way to make it up to her, and fast. 

~~~

You’re actually upset Nanami didn’t accept your gift. Not only did he reject what you spent hours working on, he essentially told you he wasn’t ready for marriage. And sure, maybe he doesn’t know that hidden meaning behind it, but still! You’re annoyed with him.

There’s another gentle knock on the door. This time, you don’t ignore it, swinging it open to give him a piece of your mind. However, the sight you find instead has you speechless. 

Nanami is completely naked from head to toe, except for the willy warmer wrapped snugly around his cock. He smirks at you, holding his arms out, presenting himself. Before you can respond, he says, “I’m sorry, sweetie. I accept this gift with all my heart. And, I guess, my penis.”

You burst into laughter, stepping towards him to slide your arms around his waist, face nuzzling his chest. “So, does this mean you want to marry me then?”

He squeezes you in a loving embrace. “You know I do. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. And I can’t wait to officially call you my wife.”

You grin, peering up at him to give him a kiss. “So,” you tease, palming his cock through the yarned fabric, “Shall we test how warm your willy is?”

#nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #requests #nanami request

[goodomensafterdark]

Writers Guild Cock Fight - Give ourselves one more chance

Summary:

Written by Niknak90 for the GOAD smut war - find them on Reddit and AO3!

TL;DR for chapter 1: they have sex for the first time in the Bentley after the wall slam, but Crowley miracles them "back to business" after, making Aziraphale (and the readers, and the author) very sad.

Chapter 2: The world doesn't end. Crowley invites Aziraphale back to his place, unsure where they stand now. They end up standing (and kneeling) in his shower. Eventually, they get their happy ending (in multiple senses of the word).

Word count: 5070 words for chapter 2

Trigger/Content Warnings: The Night At Crowley's Flat, Shower Sex, Blowjobs, Edging/Orgasm Delay, Crowley POV, Mentions of past Crowley/Humans, Anal Sex, Angst and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Top Crowley/Bottom Aziraphale

Excerpt:

“There is no way I’m giving you my body in this state, angel.” Crowley said, realizing how suggestive that sounded only after he said it. “You might have a shiny new corporation from the Antichrist’s little miracle, but mine has seen better days. I need a good hot shower to get this soot off me.” He could miracle himself clean, but like sleep, he enjoyed indulging in showers and the occasional bath.

“Not a bad idea. Perhaps I could join you?” Aziraphale smiled, wiggled a bit, and placed his hand on Crowley’s thigh.

“That’s not too fast?” Crowley asked. He had to be sure that Aziraphale wanted this, that he wouldn’t get spooked and dump him again the next day.

“You did say if stopping Armageddon worked out, we might be able to do it again.” Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s thigh and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “And I would like that very much.”

“And you won’t…you won’t say ‘it’s over’ again tomorrow?” Crowley asked quietly. He tried to keep his breath steady as the angel’s touch seemed to burn through his trousers, but was failing miserably. He put his hand over Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale shook his head. “I said I was sorry, my dear. I got scared, wanted to keep us safe.” He reached for Crowley’s glasses and removed them, then placed a hand on his cheek. “But if this works, if we survive this…I see no reason to stay apart.” He kissed Crowley briefly, too briefly (then again, would any kiss ever feel long enough?). “And I would very much like to continue exploring our physical relationship. If you’re amenable, that is.”

“Oh, I’m very amenable, angel,” he rasped, then kissed him again. He was quickly becoming addicted to this. Kissing in his previous encounters, when it occurred at all, was at most a perfunctory precursor to the act. Kissing Aziraphale felt like finding an oasis in the desert, and if he drowned in it after centuries of thirst, it would be worth it. Even if Aziraphale changed his mind and “only” wanted to kiss from now on, Crowley would be a very happy demon. Possibly the happiest demon, seeing as demons weren’t generally supposed to experience happiness.

Unfortunately, he needed his mouth unoccupied to finish his thought, so he broke the kiss. “Might need a minute though. In the shower. Before you join me. Get properly clean, burn my skin off.” He liked his showers hellishly hot, which he suspected the angel would find more punishing than soothing. “Then I’ll cool it back down and call you in. Sound good?”

Aziraphale agreed, and Crowley miracled away his dirty clothes, leaving himself in just a towel around his waist. He could feel the angel’s eyes on him as he walked away, like he was the ox in Job’s basement.

Read more on AO3!

Thank you to the betas! u/lemon-tart-221, u/Intelligent-Dragon, u/SouthernFriedAmy, u/kunigun

#good omens after dark #goad #ineffable smut war #smut war #good omens #good omens fanfic #writers of after dark

[gunsandspaceships]

Proof that Tony Stark is not an extravert

Well, I’d bet it’s better results than one could get on YouTube, Twitter, or Reddit, but come on.

I’m going to show you why MCU Tony is certainly not an extravert.

I've already posted some stuff, such as:

Absent-minded Tony

Socially awkward Tony

As you can see, Tony has some issues that hint to us that he’s not always present or outgoing. And now it’s time to gather all these and other things and summarize our findings.

Extraversion: Large social network & Thrive in teams, crowds vs Introversion: Value 1:1 friendships & Favor independence

Tony no doubt knows a lot of people. Because he ran a huge technological company, right. Business partners, military officers, politicians, SHIELD agents, journalists, his staff, etc. Although this doesn’t mean that he communicates with many people regularly, or has many friends. And we know he doesn’t. He never had many friends. Throughout the Infinity Saga, he made a few, like Pepper and Happy. But before IM2 his only friends were Rhodey, J.A.R.V.I.S., and his bots.

He mostly interacted with AIs and robots, especially in his solo movies. This tells us something, doesn’t it? I’ll write a separate post about his childhood, but it is obvious that he was always an outcast: in school, college, before the Avengers, within the Avengers… We don’t really see him as a “gear” in this mechanism. He is most often steps ahead of others or steps aside. None of the Avengers were really his friends, and I’ll write about that too in the future.

Did he try to make more friends? He seemed to think some of the Avengers were. He thought Steve was. Remember this?

Or Bruce. But Bruce didn't even want to listen to him when Tony needed help.

And he left him at the end of AoU. But Tony thought he was a friend. Moreover, he considered them all his family.

That’s what he was doing – everyone around him, from assistants to teammates, were considered friends and family members and were treated accordingly. He needed that, not a large social network of "pals" and "buddies" he barely knows.

Let’s illustrate how he felt about people around him:

Deleted scene "Dubai Party" from IM (2008)

Tony doesn’t really talk to those people. He doesn't feel comfortable shaking their hands or taking anything from them. That's not why he's here, it's an alibi for the mission in Afghanistan. And we see that all this causes him disgust and discomfort.

The Charity Ball - IM (2008)

And boom - he doesn't know that Christina is talking about Jericho, which Stein sold to the Ten Rings. He thinks she is referring to this event. And he (surprisingly) reveals that he actually has social anxiety. That doesn't sound like an extrovert to me.

Alternate Opening from IM2 shows us Tony, who is trying to avoid going on some kind of dangerous mission. And then we find out that that mission is actually the Expo Opening. He doesn’t look excited that he has to go to the crowd, doesn’t he?

After that, he makes his way through the crowd of fans, communicating with virtually no one.

At the Senate hearing, he seems bored. He doesn’t pay much attention to the politicians, asking Pepper about chili, hacking networks, and making fun of Senator Stern.

After he’s done with Hammer and Stern he shows his public mask to others. We know he is not comfortable with this situation, but he has to deal with it.

At the party "Natalie wears the gauntlet" deleted scene from IM2

This is what Tony really thinks about these people. He doesn’t like them, doesn’t like this lifestyle. He didn’t want this party in the first place. He doesn’t even understand celebrating birthdays ("The Sub-Orbital Jet" deleted scene, IM2).

Sounds very introvert-like to me.

He wears sunglasses in public. Because he is uncomfortable when people see his eyes - they cannot hide from them what he wants to hide. And that brings us to the next trait…

Extraversion: Enjoy being a center of attention vs Introversion: Avoid being a center of attention

He hides behind sunglasses. Most of the time, he only shows his mask to people he considers strangers. When he's the center of attention, it's his mask, not the real Tony.

The real Tony refused to be the commander of the Avengers, despite being their benefactor and providing them with everything. The real Tony didn't go to important public events on behalf of the team, Natasha (WS and CW) did. The real Tony left the Avengers at his Compound and went to live with his family in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. And, again, we can recall what he said about his birthday and parties in general.

Extraversion: Think out loud vs Introversion: Think before speaking

Tony is not the guy who shares his thoughts with others. He thinks a lot. And he hides most of it from others.

Does he always think before speaking? No, not at all. But that’s his goofy personality, not extraversion.

Extraversion: Energize around people & seek greater stimulation vs Introversion: Recharge, reflect in quiet & Seek less stimulation

As we can see, Tony is not that much of a people person. He avoids gatherings when he can, and doesn’t enjoy them when he can’t. Most of the time he spends in his workshop/lab with his AIs, bots, and sometimes with Bruce, with occasional visits from Pepper and Rhodey. And he is comfortable in this environment.

With the Avengers he doesn’t act like an energy battery. Instead, he is quiet, calm, and just minds his own business. Look at the scenes from AoU:

At the party he doesn't talk to many people, we see him in a small group of Thor and Maria Hill, and he is, again, pretty quiet.

In Endgame he lives with just his wife, daughter, chickens, and Gerald the alpaca in a cabin, far from other people and their noise. He has nature around, a big fireplace, and paper books to read by it. This is his happiness. An introvert's dream.

Conclusion: all the extraversion we see in Tony came from his business training that started when he was a kid. He had to develop a set of skills: communicating with many people, participating in gatherings, selling stuff, running a company, dealing with journalists and politicians. He became the owner of a huge business when he was only 21 years old. Of course, he has skills formed by decades of experience. But we see he doesn’t enjoy doing all this stuff. This is not his comfort zone. His comfort zone is his lab and a few close friends. It's hard to tell from the masks he wears and his skills whether he's an introvert or an ambivert who tends to be introverted, but he's definitely not an extravert.

P.S. This is not a 100% comprehensive review of everything I've seen in the movies. There are many more examples of his introversion in the MCU. But this post is already huge, so if you would like to see more about it – let me know in the comments and I’ll make more detailed posts about each trait.

616 Tony here

#tony stark #iron man #mcu #marvel #the avengers #avengers endgame #captain america civil war #pepper potts #avengers age of ultron #iron man 2 #thor odinson #iron man 3 #happy hogan #james rhodes #bruce banner #clint barton #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #introvert #ambivert #extravert #psycology

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

a/n: you made it through the character and magic guides, the wiki page and even the reddit post and i hope you had fun doing it! my goal was to make the first few things feel like you were an actual player for seraphim even if it is a bs otome game for a genshin fanfic while also getting the exposition dump out of the way so it doesn’t bog down the actually written chapters. so while you don’t have to read it all, it certainly helps add to the experience i think!

TAGLIST (ask to be added or removed):  @etherisy​

Bold couldn’t be tagged.

prologue; fuck hard mode masterlist | next chapter

“You’re combing too hard,” you tell the maid tersely.

The maid smiles but there is an unmistakable mirth in her eyes at your pain, “I’ve been with my lady for years now,” she coos, voice sickeningly sweet. “I know how you like your hair to be combed best.” 

So [First] tolerated this too? 

Even when this world was nothing but an amusing game for you to pass the time, when trinkets of information like this appeared in Hard Mode it always amazed you. [First] was a cruel antagonist and yet she’d easily tolerate the mistreatment of her father’s duchy in the same breath. But you can’t bring yourself to sneer at her; not then and especially not now. “Yes, well people can change,” you shoot the maid a sharp look in the mirror. “Comb my hair gently. If you still need critiques, I’ll be happy to demonstrate your performance. Take a seat here, I’ll comb your hair and show you as an example.”

“T-that isn’t necessary at all, my lady! I’ll comb in a manner you find more enjoyable,” the maid stammers and you hum in satisfaction.

The hell was wrong with the sadists that made this game, you fumed. Fucking sexists. Scaramouche gets a tragic backstory and gets to live in Normal Mode because he’s a pretty boy but [First] has to die in all the endings?!

Or be miserable, another part of yourself reminds you and you can barely hold back a grimace.

[First]’s marriage to Diluc when the player chooses a Secret Love Interest isn’t anything close to a happy ending.

You close your eyes and hold back a sigh. When you proudly declared on twitter that you would be trying to finally beat Seraphim’s Hard Mode, this isn’t what you meant. But apparently the gods of the Isekai genre and the reckless driver that hit you with their car had other ideas.

When you open your eyes, it isn’t your face that stares back at you.

Of course it was the Villainess.

It’s never the main character. You’re no Lumine.

It’s rarely a side character. You’re definitely no Raeliana.

It’s always, always the Villainess. I salute thee, otome isekai protagonists of anime and manhwas past.

You closed your eyes again.

“You must be excited to see Lord Ragnvindr at the luncheon today, my lady,” the maid pulls you out of your silent resignation and you feel your anger flaring all over again.

“Oh yes, I certainly am, he’s my beloved after all,” you offer what you hope is the face of a woman in love. Your maid gasps as if she just saw the devil incarnate instead. Fuck him, this is all his fault. No I’m not being irrationally mad at the wrong person.

Who cared if Diluc used to be your favorite love interest when you were just a teen on her first playthrough of a new and popular otome game, Seraphim. He definitely kick started your love for long-haired anime men and his princely vows of eternal love to Lumine made your eyes water when you watched the cutscene.

Yes, he did all those things but only after he publicly humiliated his fiancée by dumping her in front of all of high society. Diluc then killing [First] after she justifiably freaked out was just the icing on the cake.

When you began your first attempt at Hard Mode, your heart went out for the lonely little girl who only wanted to be loved but only received scorn in return. You wanted her to reach a happy ending with even just one of the characters in the version of the game that took place before Lumine appeared on the scene.

But this is my life now, you open your eyes once more and take in what you can see of the room’s reflection in the mirror.

A large and spacious bedroom, cluttered with potted plant after potted plant. Monsteras, philodendrons, succulents were among the various plants to grace this space. This room was [First]’s heaven on Earth in the duchy. She tended to each plant daily, lovingly imaging the day she could leave the wretched estate behind for a life with the one she fell in love with all those years prior.

But this is my life now, you reaffirm. And like hell am I gonna go begging for crumbs if I’m stuck here.

You deserve better than that.

[First] deserved better than that.

Fuck Hard Mode.

If this was your life now, there was no way you were going to play by the rules.

If no one wanted [First] around then fine. 

You will happily leave.

next chapter; the luncheon masterlist | next chapter

#look she's writing #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #alhaitham x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #candace x reader #zhongli x reader #baizhu x reader