#other people were also like ‘FUCK YEAH EYEBROW FISH!!!’

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Guys.

Y’all.

I…

I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.

Look. Okay.

There are two things you need to know, here.

First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).

Like this one, currently in the Met:

Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:

They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.

The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.

Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?

#tagamemnon #fischteller #can you fucking imagine? #like other painters trying to explain to him that fish don’t have eyebrows #and he’s just like ‘fuck you all at least my fish have SOULS.’ #and people bought them??? #other people were also like ‘FUCK YEAH EYEBROW FISH!!!’ #other people like me. #I would 100000% buy the eyebrow fish

[celestialwhoree]

🌹💞

Simon Riley does not like Valentines day. To him, it's another one of those pointless holidays people use as an excuse for overconsumption and to try and show off how their lives are better than everyone else's. Simon hates the excessive gaudiness of it all and the lame hearts and flowers. Seriously, how much thought does someone put into a wilting bouquet of red roses and some overpriced chocolates in a flimsy heart shaped box - they're at the front of every supermarket throughout basically all of February, everywhere.

Simon Riley hates Valentines day until he meets you. Bumps into you at the local florist, unusually unaware of his surroundings as he stews on the pointless idiocy of another lame holiday. The way you squeal as the three dozen peonies wrapped in brown paper tumble to the floor which you land rather inelegantly beside snaps him from his reverie with a grunt. "Fuck - shite - M' so sorry love." He stutters out, feeling like all the air has been punched from his chest when he sees your big eyes staring up at him with wild confusion, now crumpled flowers long forgotten as you stare up at the intoxicatingly rich brown eyes of the man before you. Although, man doesn't feel like the right word for him, tall and strong and holding out a hand the size of your head to help you up, your peonies dwarfed by his long fingers as he helps you up.

You vaguely hear yourself mumble something in response, an awkward stutter like a lovesick teenager asking their crush to the movies, met by a strong hand to the top of your bicep, soothing you, asking if you're alright. A concerned eyebrow furrows when you don't respond, just stand there gawking like a fish. He wonders if maybe you hit your head on the way down, and he was too dumbstruck by the flurry of soft silky skin, glossy, sun-struck hair and petals to see. You look like you've just seen God, and he looks like he's just seen the most beautiful thing said God could ever have crafted.

"Are you okay?" The low timbre of his voice - you don't even know how to react, so dazed and confused and there's butterflies - no, not butterflies, bald eagles and kestrels and ospreys, massive feathery wings beating against your diaphragm and rendering you speechless - butterflies are for normal men. The man before you is too monumental for butterflies.

"Yes! Yes." You squeak in embarrassment like a mouse under a cat's paw, looking defeatedly down at your flowers, brown eyes following your gaze with a sympathetic look.

"Were these for someone?" He seems almost a little flustered by his foolish lack of spatial awareness, which just so happened to strike at the worst time, seeing as now he stands before you, clutching a withering bouquet, failing to save this conversation. Both of you stand like that together, in some strange limbo, like time has stood still in order to force you together, not starting back up again until this conversation goes somewhere. "Just me." You murmur, voice so pathetically small under the draw of his magnetism. He's probably here to get flowers for his girlfriend, or fiancee even. She'll probably turn up any second, beautiful and charismatic and just as magnetic as the man before you is.

"Let me buy you some more, yeah?" He nods his head back in the direction of the fancier florist in town, the one you'd splurged on in a valentines induced self-pity party. He buys you three dozen pink peonies, matching paper and ribbons too. He also insists on taking you for a coffee, and buying you some silly pink and white frosted cake in the excuse that your blood sugars probably dropped after the fall and some other fake nonsense like that. You obviously say yes, to the flowers and the coffee and the cake - to the gentle smiles and the crease of his warm brown eyes, his hand on the small of your back. Both of you say yes to giving Valentines day a try.

⋆ ˚.⋆୨୧˚

Some short simple little V day fluff for y'all the brain isn't braining at the moment but also wanted to give you all a little Valentines day present because ily

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #tf 141 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost Riley x f!reader #Simon ghost Riley x yn #Simon Riley x reader #simon riley x f!reader #Simon Riley x yn #Simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x y/n #ghost simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #ghost cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #cod ghost #cod #cod simon riley #ghost #ghost riley #call of duty #valentines day #valentines

[the-witty-pen-name]

Love is Blind (Part 3)

Eddie Munson x PlusSize!F!Reader

Summary: In a last ditch effort to evade the normal disappointments of dating, a group of misfits desperate to have someone see who they are on the inside volunteer for the most recent brain chemistry study at Hawkins Lab. 

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut in later parts (part 4), reader has low self-esteem and struggles with self love/acceptance, anxiety/trauma related to bullying, tooth rot worthy fluff, Eddie being a major flirt, cursing, mentions of substance use, descriptions of bullying & people being jerks but like also very overdone tropes, mentions of smut

A/N: Please let me know if you liked it!! Feel free to send me an ask if you want to fangirl with me over these two because I cannot stand them at this point. LOL Or if you want to share any ideas/predictions for upcoming parts with me or other ideas for future stories with Eddie, I would love to hear them. Also, if I forgot to include a warning that should be included, please let me know!

Series Masterlist

“Eddie.” 

“Hey, Eddie.” 

“Earth to Eddie.”

“EDDIE.” 

“Shit! Sorry,” he says, breaking out of his thoughts and coming back to reality. He stares at his notes in his DM folder and he literally has no idea where the campaign has left off. He clears his throat and awkwardly flips through the pages. “Umm..”

“We just made it to the fishing town and we were tasked by a local merchant to kill a sea serpent that’s poisoning the local fish in exchange for..”

“Oh yeah,” he interjects, grabbing the correct script he needs to continue. “Uh, did you roll..?”

“Are you kidding me, man! What the hell?” Gareth exclaims, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you today?” 

Eddie’s face turns pink, shaking his head and ignoring the question. He was not going to admit to being distracted. He’s not embarrassed to talk to the guys about you, but he hasn’t told anyone he signed up for the study. He didn’t want to admit he was desperate or lonely, he’s too proud. He knows his friends don’t care, but it’s a mental block he can’t pass. 

“Nothing, I’m good. Just let it go,” he says defensively. 

“No way. Fucking spill it,” Jeff laughs. 

Eddie racks his mind for the most sane way to answer their questions. He sighs, pushing a mess of his curly hair out of his face. 

“Who is she?” Gareth asks, raising an eyebrow. 

***

DAY FOUR

“I’m mad at you,” Eddie says, and you roll your eyes. 

“What did I do now?” You ask, playful sarcasm evident in your voice. 

“You’re throwing me off my game”

“I don’t even know what you mean by that.” 

“Obviously because I’m really cool and popular,” he jokes, “I’m a Dungeon Master as you know.” 

“Yup, I’m familiar,” you toy. 

“My friends called my ass out so many times last night for not paying attention and I kept fucking up.” 

“I don’t appreciate you pinning this on me,” you chuckle. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Lies!” He says in a bravado. “You are the distraction! You have managed to weasel your way into every aspect of mind- I hope you’re proud of yourself. I’m probably going to be dethroned. My reign is over.”

You bite your bottom lip, to hold back the goofy smile you know is creeping over your whole face. Never before has anyone made you feel like this. The notebook to keep track of other “dates” is long forgotten. You only want to continue talking to Eddie. You wonder if any of the other people you spoke to felt a connection this strong. You’re dying to know if there are other people who feel as good as you right now. 

“What were you thinking about?” you ask shyly. You can hear the way it makes Eddie stop in his tracks. You assume he wears some sort of chain on his pants cause you can hear it when he paces, but suddenly, his end of the wall falls silent.

“How honest do you want me to be?” he asks, suddenly sounding shy. 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I could go the cheesy, romantic, ‘I was thinking about you’ way- which is true. Or, I could be brutally honest because ‘I was thinking about you’ in this context has much more implications than that.” 

“You’re confusing me,” you laugh, “just tell me.”

“Do you ever fantasize about when we get out of here? In like, a you know-”

“Like sexually?” you ask, throwing him a bone. He was drowning. 

“Yeah,” he admits, and you can hear the chain on his pant leg as he fidgets. 

“Yes,” you answer honestly, “I do.”

“I think about it all the time,” he says, the confession spilling out, “The fact that I can’t touch you is driving me fucking insane. It’s not even like just like the thought of getting to fuck you- it’s like being close to you and like feeling your body heat, or like the weight of you sitting on my lap, what it feels like to just touch your skin- just everything that we’re being denied. I don’t even have a visual in my head to go off of it’s just like- I don’t know, man…”

You wince at the mention of sitting on his lap. “I don’t know if you’d want me on your lap for a long time..,” you sound defeated. 

“Um, don’t speak for me,” he cuts you off, playfully. “Any man who doesn’t want the full weight of his woman on his lap is a fucking idiot. Ugh, I don’t even think you understand just how amazing it is. I don’t care if you try to fight me on this, princess. You’re sitting on me, and I will love every second of it.” 

“I’m not thin, Eddie,” you whisper, feeling defeated. You hear him blow a raspberry and then he knocks on the wall. 

“I… don’t… care,” he emphasizes by drawing out each word. “You need to believe me. I couldn’t care less about your weight, your height, your hair… whatever  it is. I like you! And that means I like every part of you.”

His voice begins to raise, like he is yelling up, “If these fuckers would realize we’re done already and let me out.” He then lowers his voice like he’s looking back to the wall. “I want you. The experiment fucking works, I wish I could show you what you do to me cause maybe then it’ll finally stick. I’m going out of my mind that I can’t touch you and show you how much I want you, your body, everything. Do you need me to spell it out?” 

“Would you have still found me attractive if we met outside of this experiment?” you ask, “I bet you wouldn’t have even looked my way if you saw me at a bar or something.”

“Sweetheart,” he coaxes, “absolutely. I know that I would’ve been annoying the shit out of you for your number. You’d have been the one to reject me, I guarantee it.” 

“I would have never,” you reply. 

“So if it’s possible for you to know that you wouldn't have rejected me without seeing me,” Eddie muses, “why can’t you believe the same for me?”

“You haven’t asked me a single thing about my appearance,” he continues, “Do you care how much I weigh? Do you care if I’m short?”

“Not at all. I haven’t thought about it,” you admit. 

“I haven’t either. Now, please let me have my fantasy of you sitting on my lap please,” he whines, “I need something to get me through the day, Christ.” You laugh at his fake annoyance. 

You’re so happy at how he’s able to talk you down. It amazes you how he’s able to see through the insecurities and brings you back down to Earth. 

“Okay, okay,” you say, settling back into the couch and getting comfortable. You rest your head back. 

“I don’t know, basically, we’re in the middle of the campaign- I literally spent weeks writing it,” he continues, “and I literally just can’t stop thinking about how amazing it would be if you were there. I’m just sitting there, thinking about what it would feel like to just have you sitting on my lap while we’re playing and then I’m thinking about how I want to feel lean back on me and I’d have my arm around your waist holding you, and maybe I’d rub little circles on the side of your thigh and I thought about how soft you probably feel and then suddenly I’m sporting the most embarrassing boner which thankfully no one saw- Fuck, this is what you’re doing to me.”

***

“Is there any way to end the trial early?” Eddie asks, sitting in the interview room. There’s a man putting a pulse oximeter on his right index finger and another testing his blood pressure with a monitor on his left side. 

Two other technicians sit across from Eddie, taking notes from Eddie’s answers on a clipboard. They have tested his levels of dopamine and norepinephrine. They’re taking extensive notes on Eddie’s physical reactions to you, and the same is done to all of the candidates- including you. They continue to ignore Eddie’s questions as they ramble on about his levels of oxytocin. 

“In order for us to gather all of the information necessary, this isn’t possible,” one of them finally answers. 

“But I’m telling you how I feel- I’m telling you it works,” he insists. 

“Mr. Muson,” one says, closing a file folder that contains his charts. “This is a study in brain chemistry. You agreed to participate for the designated number of days and in exchange you’d receive compensation. Your conversations between yourself and the other candidates is not our business, nor what you choose to do afterwards. Our job here is to collect data, not the details of your personal life.” 

“I can’t believe this,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. He pulls off the oximeter and grabs his jean jacket. He walks out, despite their protests, flipping them off as he goes. He couldn’t care less about the lousy $200. As far as he was concerned, they poked and prodded the two of you enough. 

Of course, he did show up the next day. Promptly with a big grin on his face, he walked in with a happy go-lucky attitude that the entire lab team was secretly sick of dealing with. These sudden outbursts and dramatic tirades were becoming a staple of Eddie’s interviews and they equally couldn’t wait to be done with him. 

***

DAY FIVE

“Are these dice?” You ask with a chuckle, opening the small, black velvet bag that’s been left for you on the table in the room. You empty the bag out into your hand and watch as the dice roll into your palm one at a time. They’re all red and shimmer as you move them around in your cupped hand. 

“Well, I wanted you to have them,” you hear his voice explain from the other side of the wall. You’re beaming as you carefully pour them back into the bag and tie it off. 

“This is so sweet, Eds,” you marvel. “I love them.” 

“I also brought my guitar and like in a non-douchebag way I was kind of hoping to play something for you,” he says, his guitar perched on his lap. “I’ve just been working on this song and I wanted your opinion on it.” 

It's surprisingly soft sounding. You were expecting heavy guitar, something really metal based on what Eddie has told you about his music taste and his band. It’s slower paced, like a dreamy, slow rock ballad. 

You wished you could see him, observe how he looks when he’s concentrating or how his fingers look strumming against the cords. You just know he has the most beautiful hands. You imagine his fingers and try to visualize them flexing as he strums. You’re so distracted by it that you almost miss him singing a verse. 

“It’s not done yet,” he prefaces, still strumming. “I’m still working on the lyrics so don’t think too much about them, just like the meaning and the melody you know?” 

“Yeah totally,” you hum in agreement. “I think it sounds great.” He smiles at the praise. 

***

Before

You anxiously sit by the front window, peeking out between the blinds occasionally. You smooth out the skirt of the new dress your mom bought you, and you make sure your hair is still how you requested. Your mom let you wear makeup and you picked eyeshadow that matches your dress and you feel like a million bucks. It’s your ninth grade formal, and the star of the JV basketball team asked you to be his date. 

The minutes tick by and the time changes from reasonably late to stood up. You still hold out hope, and reject your parents' offers to just drive you to the dance. It’s been 45 minutes now, and you still hoped he’d be there. It was long past an hour that you admitted that he wasn’t coming. 

The following Monday you learned the whole thing was a prank, and he never wanted to ask you to the dance. It’s in the school paper that he’s at the dance, dancing cheek to cheek with one of the cheerleaders, who you can’t help but compare yourself to. 

***

Eddie is sitting at the middle school cafeteria table alone. He’s about a hundred pages into the Hobbit and the crusts of his peanut butter sandwich are forgotten about on the crinkly brown paper bag Uncle Wayne packed his lunch in. He’s long forgotten he’s sitting alone, far too engrossed in the story to care, when suddenly his head is yanked back by someone tugging on his t-shirt. 

“What’s up, Freak?” the voice asks before shoving Eddie back towards the table. He catches himself on the edge before his head comes in contact with the surface. He winces as anger boils up inside him. The three jocks laugh amongst themselves until a familiar voice shoos them away. 

“Sorry about them,” she says apologetically as Eddie looks to see her. Chrissy. He notices how she glances from him to the cafeteria table where the cheerleaders sit, and Eddie knows she doesn’t want to be seen with him for too long. 

“You can go, I’m fine,” Eddie says, forcing a laugh to make her feel better. “But, uh, I wanted to ask you-” 

“Okay, thanks,” she says, cutting him off and practically skipping to sit next to the prick who shoved him. Eddie recoils as the jock’s arm wraps around her. Eddie rolls his eyes and gets up to have lunch outside. Along with the remains of his lunch, he shoves the necklace he meant to give her in the bin. He’d stayed up past his bedtime, Wayne showing him how to drill a small hole into the top of one of his guitar picks to put a metal jewelry loop through so it could be put on a silver chain. 

***

You’re sitting at the table in the dimly lit restaurant and sipping on your cocktail when you see him walk in. He matches the description your friend gave you, and you feel yourself smile at how cute he is- definitely living up to the hype. Your friend spent weeks convincing you to go out on this date- one of her boyfriend’s best friends. They’re in the same fraternity. 

You can see as he walks into the dining room, he’s looking around trying to find his date. You offer a smile when he makes eye contact, and you offer a small wave. 

“James?” You ask, “you’re exactly like how Donna described you.” He offers a polite closed lipped smile, and a nod, taking a seat across from you without saying anything. 

As the date continues, you notice you’re doing a lot of the talking. You ask him questions and you’re met with a lot of one word answers. He looks detached, checking his watch and his attention seems to be wandering throughout the restaurant at anything but you. By the time your entrees arrive, he yawns. 

“I’m sorry, did I do something or say something?” you ask, hesitantly.

“No, no you’re good,” he says, straightening his posture like it would correct the behavior he’s been exhibiting. 

He pays for dinner, and you ask if he’d like to do this again sometime (just to be polite, you knew it was going nowhere). He sucks in air from between his teeth, and lets out an exhale. 

“You’re a nice person,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits for the valet to bring his car. “I’m sorry, but you aren’t really my type. Tom didn’t tell me anything about you really. I just felt like we didn’t click.” You notice the way his eyes scan your body, the unspoken awkwardness of you knowing what he isn’t saying. You nod, and say strained goodbyes as he gets in his car. You wished you were more surprised. 

***

Eddie is met with dirty looks when he approaches a girl at the bar. He feels her eyes on his tattoos and on his clothes, judging him. He sees her friend, who's also looking at him, lean in and whisper something and they both laugh. He knows the joke is on him, yet again. 

He opts to hang where he is, leaning against one of the high top tables, when he watches another guy approach her. He’s muscular, of course he is, and Eddie looks down at his own torso in comparison as this guy’s abs strain his shirt. Eddie scoffs, but now feels incredibly insecure at how his own shirt hangs loosely on his figure. 

***

DAY SIX

“Are you still worried about tomorrow?” Eddie asks, playing haphazardly with his rings as he sits with his forearms rested on his thighs. 

“A little,” you admit sheepishly. “Are you?” 

“More excited than nervous,” he replies honestly. “This whole thing has been fucking wild,” he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Insane,” you agree, laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. 

“I just wanted to ask, no pressure,” Eddie says, clearing his throat, “Uh the other day, when we talked about, you know- what’s gonna happen when we see each other…”

“Yes?”

“You said to not hold back, I don’t remember exactly what it was but along the lines of ‘I don’t want you to hold back. Just whatever feels right to you in that moment, do it. Kiss me, touch me, I’m down for everything.’ Or something. I just want to make sure…”

“You don’t remember exactly, huh?” you tease. 

“Is that still what you want?” he asks earnestly. 

“Without a doubt,” you smile.

TAGLIST

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[lew9ndowski]

❦ hotel.

| jude bellingham x fem! reader.

| watching a movie in your hotel room, until you hear a knock at your door.

| ib , hotel by montell fish

you stood up from the hotel couch, and paused the movie before it could begin, you go to the kitchen and grab your popcorn box, you grab a bag and put it inside the microwave, while you waited for the popcorn, you leaned on the counter, replying to your unread messages, most of them being from your sister, asking you how you were doing during your vacation. she was taking care of your dog too, so most of the messages were of him. “it’s so quiet here, i like it, but i’m about to watch a movie.” you texted your sister, she immediately replied “okay, that’s nice, also, remember to send pictures of the hot guys you see and most importantly, text me if you met one…” you roll your eyes and scoff. “stfu, i’m not here to focus on guys.” that was kind of a lie, because the guy on the counter to check into the hotel was kind of… “k.” she replied. you chuckle and place your phone down as you hear the ringing of the microwave.

you take the bag of popcorn out of the microwave and open it, pouring the snack on the only bowl you could find in your hotel kitchen, you open a soda from the set you bought earlier at the store and take the bowl, you head to the couch and set everything up in the coffee table, you grab the remote and resume the movie.

you’re in spain right now, taking a small trip away from your problems at home, spain has always been your favorite country to travel to, you love everything about it, there are some things, here and there, but you’re just glad you could be here and enjoy a little bit of everything.

you’re halfway into the film and you’re about to drift off to sleep, you were “resting” your eyes, until you hear a knock at your door, you groan and curse under your breath, you look at the time, and it’s about to be 3 am, you furrow your eyebrows, but then remember the people here don’t know what sleep is. you walk to the door and unlock it, you should’ve looked through the peephole, but since you’re nearly asleep, why would you?

“yes?” you croak, the bright yellow light of the hotel’s hallway almost blinding you. you see a ball heading your way, until the man standing in front of your door catches it “you ladies, alright?” you shoot the boys in your sight a dirty look “what the fuck?!” the boy with the ball turns to look at you and immediately straightens himself. “hey…” his voice was soft and he had a small smile on his face as he waited for your response. “how old are you? four?” you scoff and were about to close the door, until he stops it. “hey, hey… i’m sorry, my mates and i just wanted to do this tiktok trend.” i nod and lick my lips. “okay, fine, just don’t do that again, shit scared me.” you take your eyes off of him and look at his mates, they all nod and raise their hands in defense, asking for your forgiveness.

“we’re sorry.” he grimaces. “it’s fine.” you shake your head, “no, no, really, what we did was messed up, how can i make it up to you?” you tilt your jaw and raise an eyebrow, you look at his team mates and they’re all looking at each other awkwardly. “i said it’s fine bro, don’t worry.” you chuckle. “yeah, you heard the lady, she said it’s fine.” he shushes him loudly, you cock your head back, he maintains eye contact and you start to look around uncomfortably. “you can leave now…” you smile and since he didn’t say anything, you begin to close the door slowly, and when it was inches away from closing, you whisper a soft “bye bye…” you close it and sputter, rolling your eyes before you head back to the couch.

“my god she is stunning.” he turns to his mates with a wide smile. “she is.” his mate agreed, “too bad you’ll never see her again.” his other mate speaks up. “says who?” his mate shrugs and he shakes his head. “nah, i’ll do something about it.” his friends share a look, “mate, that sounds creepy.” they head back to their hotel room.

the bright sun, forced your eyes to open, your brain to wake up, and your body to stand, you sit up from the couch and stretch, followed by a yawn, you look at your phone and check the time, it’s still pretty early. you stand up from the couch and do your exercises, after that, you do your personal hygiene and get ready to go out, you put on your outfit, grab your stuff, and head out. you held the door open to look for your rental car keys, and then focus on something on the floor, you raise your eyebrows and pick it up, it’s a rose and a card. “the hell?” you read the front page of the letter and flipped it open. “we’re sorry for that little prank, here’s this from us (especially the handsome, tall one that saved you from the ball) we hope to see you again, under different circumstances, of course.” at the bottom of the words, there was a phone number. “no way..” you laugh softly and put the rose back inside the hotel room, but put the letter on your purse.

as you were walking around the streets of spain, you found a cute coffee shop, and decided to sit outside and get something to drink, along with a snack. you sat outside, admiring the view, fiddling with your fingers and fighting the cold breeze. your mind starts to drift to your fellow prankster of a neighbor. was that his number on the letter? you think. should i call? nah, i should leave him alone. why did he give me his number? i shake my head, wanting to get those thoughts away as soon as possible, but before you could, you text your sister about it. she was asking all the possible questions on earth.

once she stopped replying, you set your phone down, beginning to get anxious if you should call the number or not, if my coffee comes in less than ten seconds, i’ll call him. you thought to yourself. ten seconds? try three, that’s all it took, the waiter placed your coffee and croissant softly on the table, your mouth stays agape and you softly chuckle. “gracias.” you say with a slight tone to the waiter, but try to disguise it with a nice smile. “fuck!” you curse to yourself and grab your phone, you open the phone app and dial the number on the letter, the cold class hits your ear and you begin to shake your leg up and down, the repeated ringing beginning to stress you out.

after what felt like forever, you hear a lot of noise, the sounds of someone yelling names, laughing, and someone picking up the phone “aye, jude! someone’s calling you, mate.” you hear someone shout, then you hear another voice over the phone. “hello?” you smile as you hear his familiar voice. “hey! hey, it’s me, the girl from the hotel room?” you bite your lip, patiently waiting for his response. “oh! hey, i take it you got my rose and letter?” you chuckle. “yes, i did, i should probably let you know that, i don’t really like roses.” you hear him groan out loud. “well, now i know for a future occasion.” you raise an eyebrow and begin to sip your coffee. “oh? i love your confidence, jude. that’s your name, right?” he chuckles. “hell yeah… and yours?”

“you said you wanted to see each other again under different circumstances, right? so, how about you come find out later tonight?” you just can’t believe you said that, your heart was racing, but the boldness you were feeling, you loved it. “got a special place in mind?” he questions, you hum. “no, not really, do you?” you now ask him. “i do, i can take you..” you gulp, the tone in his voice making butterflies hit your stomach, “i can do that myself, just tell me where…” he tells you the directions, it’s supposedly the best restaurant in the whole city, so, you were excited. as you finished talking with him, you set your phone down and hide your face.

oh mY fucKingGg GodDddd.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham oneshot #jude bellingham x you #lowkey thinking about making this a series idk

[jayconsumesmultiplechildrenaday]

Grian x Empires!Reader

Notes - This fic is set in Empires S2 during the hermitcraft crossover. The reader is the ruler of a very large lake around 250x250 blocks near spawn. They are a merfolk fresh water shark! Your also 7ft tall just like LDShadowlady was in season one.

Contents and warnings: Injury, Fluff, Being dropped from large heights

-You sat in your underwater palace, filling out some seaweedwork (paperwork), just recently, lots of new people joined the smp. Weather they were staying or not did not concern you, but since then your fellow rulers have pushed you to make a conduit.

It was annoying, now that you got lots of visitors, interrupting your work. None of them intrigued you enough to pay them any mind. Having annoying neighbours like Joey and Jimmy was already enough. But that changed one day.

You sat back in your chair boredly, watching as fish of all sorts swam by peacefully, paying no mind to you, a clear predator. You wished you could be as care free as them.

Your head snapped back towards the door when you saw something moving, only to be faced with an avian. Grian, you think his name was. He was known to be a prankster and being quite obnoxious. From the small amount of times you’ve seen him though, he’s seemed pretty chill.

“Hello.” You greeted hesitantly. He must’ve been so uncomfortable underwater with his feathers. You couldn’t understand why he’d get his wings ruined and all wet just to come down here to meet you.

“Hey!” He replied back, seemingly happy. “Your Y/n, right? All the other hermits have been telling me about you.”

“What’d they say? I’m a boring old shark who’s rude as fuck?”

Grian raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “No. They told me you seemed cool. Mysterious and stuff. I wanted to meet you for myself.” He smiled yet again. His cheerful expression was contagious and you felt a smile creep up onto your own face.

“Oh, we’ll, it’s nice to meet you.” You nodded politely. “Grian, right?”

“That’s me.” He said proudly.

“You must be very uncomfortable down here- if you’d like we can go back up to the surface so your wings can dry.” You suggested, watching his wings twitch every so often.

“Are you sure? I came here to meet you, there’s no need for you to sacrifice your time for me.” He waved it off, nervously.

“I insist.” You smiled softly. He hesitated but nodded and you both made your way out of the underwater palace and to the seperate, on land section of your castle that was for meeting with other rulers.

He smiled at you happily. “Your the last ruler I came to meet.” He said after a moment. “I don’t understand why I would put it off for so long. Your probably one of the nicest people I’ve met.” He chuckled.

You laughed as well. “Yeah, some of the others aren’t as caring as me, I guess.” You shrugged. You looked down at him and smiled again.

He paused for a moment, before speaking. “You never get used to the conduits. It feels strange being able to talk underwater without drowning and in hailing unhealthy amounts of unclean water.” He commented.

“Can’t relate.” You smirked and put one hand on your hip, looking down at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Shut up!” He said playfully. You’d met this man less then ten minutes ago and you probably already like him more than most of the other rulers.

“Sorry about your wings getting wet.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh no! It’s not your fault. I decided to go down there.” He replied quickly, reassuring you. “However, for payback I might as well do this.” He said before shaking off his wings aggressively, causing water to get all in her eyes.

You squealed playfully, like a child would, trying to blink it out. He laughed at your reaction, face palming. Soon enough you calmed down, and you both went silent for a moment. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, like every other silence you’d ever gone through. It felt comforting in a way.

“Have you ever flown before?” Grian asked out of the blue.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You laughed.

“I mean- like, with wings. You don’t seem to have an elytra.” He hummed.

“No, I don’t fly. I prefer it on the ground or in the ocean. Besides, why fly when you can swim faster? I get if your on land but I barely leave my kingdom anyway.” You shrugged.

“Would you like to?”

“What?”

“Would you like to fly with me? I could carry you. My wings are large enough to hold both of us, despite your large size.”

You couldn’t help the red hue spreading across your cheeks. You felt fuzzy inside. This man you barely knew would like to fly you somewhere. To help you experience knew things. Perhaps he also felt as though you were strangely comforting. “That… That would be nice I guess.”

He hesitated but slowly reached toward your arm which you allowed him to take. He then took your other hand and took off. You let out a scream in surprise and he laughed, pulling you closer.

“OH MY GOD LET ME DOWN! LET ME DOWN! LET ME DOWN!” You started screeching anxiously. You shut your eyes as tightly as possible, and soon enough, there was no more unusually strong gusts of wind. “Oh, than god you took me back to the gro-“ You started, opening your eyes only to realise you were above the clouds.

The sky was a beautiful hue of pink of the afternoon, and your lips parted gently. The clouds ran past underneath you, like mist in the wind. “Woah.” You whispered. Since takeoff, Grian had been quiet. You looked up at him only to see him looking straight ahead and smiling.

“I knew you’d like it.” He said softly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Stunning. No wonder Joel brags about his view in Stratos.” You hummed softly.

Grian let out a laugh at that and you couldn’t help but join in. “Thank you. For being kind to me. The other hermits weren’t so nice.” You said grimly.

“It’s no big deal. Just another excuse to disappear for a while.” He smiled.

You nodded. “I know what you mean.” You we’re both silent for a moment, looking into the sunset. That’s when someone went flying bye. They passed at top speed, causing for both you and Grian to scream and he halted in the sky hastily. Little did he know he had lost grip on you until it was too late.

You let out a scream as you began to plummet down from the large height. This is it. Your dead. Your absolutely fucked. Your shark tail lashed anxiously but ineffectively in the fall. You screamed the whole way through the clouds and continued on the whole way down. Once passing the clouds, you realised you were over the top of a body of water, which was relieving in some ways but even more scary in others.

“Grian?!” You shouted up to the bird who was frantically trying to catch up with you. You were to heavy, however and there was no way he could keep up let alone overtake you to stop you. “Is that an ocean biome?!” You panicked.

“Yes! Why does it matter in this situation?!” He replied back, still frantically trying to get to you.

You were a fresh water shark. You couldn’t breathe in salt water. It was like drowning for a human. You continued on screaming until you finally crashed into the large waves.

Your eyes went wide and you tried holding your breath, tears flowing out of your eyes and into the ocean in panic. Grian was no where to be seen, probably waiting for you to float to the top. You were to large.

You frantically tried to swim up, but to no avail. It just made you loose more breath and loose energy. You knew that if you breathed in that water, your gills would clog up and you’d suffocate. You’d die. However, there was no stopping it. Your lungs burst and you finally swallowed the water. Your eyes closed and everything went black.

You sat up and spat out water in your lungs, finding yourself on the beach. You spat out some seaweed and dragged yourself away from the salt water in fear. Your gills stung from the salt that you consumed and your fins were damaged from touching the water itself.

You already recognised yourself to be on the far east side of the island where all the empires were, there was docks nearby built by Joey. You must be near his kingdom.

You struggled to stand up, your limbs being weak from whatever happened while you were unconscious. How long had it been since you last walked on them? It couldn’t be more than a few hours because you would’ve died by that much salt water by then. So maybe two hours, according to the shape your body was in. You slowly limped your way over to the small dock area. You saw Sausages home, just across a lake connected to the ocean, so you sadly couldn’t leave.

“Anybody here?!” You called, trying to check if Joey was anywhere around. You got now sneer and immediately frowned. You sat back down where you were, on one of the docks. Maybe he’d come back. Or Grian would come looking for you.

It felt like hours of sitting in the heat that you finally saw something at least a little interesting. You felt your smooth shark skin getting burnt the more you sat there, but there was no shady areas that was open.

Moving back to the interesting thing you saw, is that there was numerous birds flying in the sky together. You rarely see any parrots flying together, let alone how high those ones were flying.

You shrugged it off and closed your eyes again, but you were startled by numerous loud thumbing on the dock. “Did those birds seriously come over here to mock m—“ You we’re cut off by being entrapped in a large hug. You felt violated and lie you were being strangled for a moment but softened a little when you realised it was no bird, but Grian, Lizzie, Joel and Jimmy.

“Y/n! There you are!” Grian said worriedly. “I’m sososo sorry. You fell into the ocean and I couldn’t see you anywhere— I got the whole server to try and look for you. Thank the lord.” He said.

Joel then brought up chat and typed in that they found us at Joeys base. (Joey replied with ‘they better of not stolen any of my stuff!’)

“Here, let’s take you home. I’ll treat your wounds.” He frowned. “Since it’s my fault anyway.”

You nodded hazily, still confused on what was happening. “Can we go by boat?”

“Yeah, of course! You guys can go now, thanks a lot. I’m sorry for making you all help me find them. I just felt at fault.” Grian said quickly. They took no time to all leave and get back to their busy lives which I was fine with.

“I’m so sorry for dropping you.” Grian mumbled, placing down a boat and hopping in, followed by you. “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have suggested going flying with you. It was dangerous enough with both our weight but I should’ve also comprehended other fliers.”

“Grian.”

“You’d be fine if I hadn’t have ever come. Maybe I shouldn’t have even met you.”

“Grian.”

“This is all my fucking fault…”

“GRIAN!! It’s okay! I forgive you! It’s not your fault.”

He went silent as he pulled up to some land. It was a short walk from there to your lake. He helped you out and destroyed the boat before you begun your silent journey home.

Once getting there, he sat you on a table and began healing any wounds you hadn’t noticed. He gave you a healing potion which helped your gills heal and find, however you still had scratched on your legs he bandages up with seaweed for you.

“Thank you, Grian.”

“It’s the least I could’ve done.” He shrugged. “First aid isn’t my specialty.”

“No. I mean for everything. It was beautiful. Thank you.”

He paused, looking at you with wide eyes before taking you in a hug.

“Thank you..” He whispered back.

Anddd that’s it! I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll be taking requests now about fnaf, ninjago and mcyt!

#grian x reader #shark reader #merfolk reader #hermitcraft x reader #hermitcraft x empires #hermitcraft season 9 #empires s2 #bird grian #avian grian #Empires x Reader #Mcyt x Reader

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Maybanks sister

Series masterlist , previous chapter

Taglist- @cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow

Part 2, Chapter 2- a not so fun sleepover

Summary: it is just your luck at this point. You and Kiara get caught by some weird people in the Barbados after finally getting off ‘poguelandia.’ You’re trapped with your psycho ex. Again. For a second time.

After what felt like a year, finally, someone had come to rescue you guys.

Now, you guys had been saved. You were thankful for whoever this dude was for picking you guys up, thankful to get off this damn island already.

“I got a little guide out in Saint Vincent. I was spotting fish.” He told you guys as you sat down in his plane.

“What were you spotting?” You asked the man, curious.

“You know, the usual. Wahoo.”

You quirked an eyebrow, JJ also seemed confused as he turned to you.

“Wahoo? In September?” You whispered to JJ. He had the same confused look.

“That doesn’t make sense.” He whispered back.

“I’d hang on to something. Gets a little spicy on takeoff.”

“Wahoo doesn’t run in September. Like ever.” You told them all quietly. “Kinda wish it did, cause then we’d have been eating it…” you trailed off. “It tastes so good.”

“Yeah. So whoever this dude is, he’s not a fisherman.” JJ spoke.

“Maybe the run just starts earlier out here.” Pope shrugged.

You tilted your head to the side. “In the carribean? Unlikely. They usually-“

“No, I know what this is. He’s working for my dad. And he’s probably been looking for us the entire time.” Sarah cut you off, everyone turning to her now.

“All right, we gotta find out.” JJ said. “Just gotta look for clues…”

You tapped on JJs shoulder, and pointed to a bag on the back of his seat.

“Hey, Jimmy.” John B spoke, distracting the man while JJ slowly reached for the bag, taking it and rummaging through everything. He opened a book and found a picture, a picture of the coastal venture.

He handed it to Sarah.

“So he was looking for us?” Cleo said.

“Exactly.”

“He’s working for my dad.”

“I say we all jump off.” You pointed down. The plane shook suddenly, you all grabbing on.

“Hey, yall better hold something we got some unexpected turbulence up here.”

“Guys, whatever it is, it’s happening fast. Look.”

Everyone looked out the window, seeing some land.

“That looks like Barbados. I’ve been there with Terrence.”

“Okay.. there’s 7 of us, one of him. You know my vote, we storm the cockpit.” Jj told everyone.

“Idiot. None of us know how to fly a damn plane.” You hit him in the arm.

“I’ve seen pope fly simulators.”

“Yeah, and I’ve flown the fucking Death Star on Lego Star Wars, doesn’t mean I can fly.” You shrugged.

“Well do you have an idea?” He turned to you.

“Something safe..?”

“Why don’t we just wait until the plane lands somewhere safe, and then we sneak out. And if someone comes to mess with us, we mad dog them.” Pope spoke.

“Yeah. I like that way better.” You nodded.

“I like the mad-dogging part.” Jj tilted his head.

“Just put that back. Put it back. Be cool.” Kiara told JJ, John B distracting him again so JJ could put the stuff back into the bag.

“I’ve been going since I was 18-“ he spoke, and heard a sudden noise. JJ had been caught.

“Hey man! What the hell are you doing?” He turned to JJ, slapping him away. “That’s mine! That’s my book, give it back!”

“Fly the plane! Please fly the plane. Please fly the plane.” Sarah said, the plane shaking. You were knocked straight into Cleo who helped you sit back up quickly.

The plane crashed into the water as he struggled to get it up. Everyone screaming as they fell into the back, you all piling on top of each other. The plane filled with water.

“Is everybody good?” You asked them, everyone coughing.

“Jj, wake up, man we gotta get out.” you helped him get up. John B shoved open the door, multiple people coming over.

“Oh no. They don’t look friendly.”

“No, they look very unfriendly!”

“We gotta go, come on.”

They all got out.

“Kie, go!” You told her.

“I’m coming. Go!”

“I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Guys, get out before it sinks!” JJ told you both. Kiara looked at you and back behind you, at the man sinking.

You groaned when she began to swim over, you following.

“Come on, you gotta hurry!”

They all shouted out you both. You helped Kiara get through the plane and unbuckled the man, helping her carry him through the window.

The others were all swimming now.

“Come on guys, hurry up! Hurry up!”

“We got you.” Kiara panted to him, the man unconscious as you both carried him to shore.

“Wait, where are they?” Jj asked, turning around.

“You guys, where the fuck are they?”

“They went the other way.”

You both brought him up to shore, Kiara coughing as you brought her close to you.

“Thank you.” The man told you both, awake now.

“You lied to us. Who are you?” Kiara asked, an Atv interrupting him.

“Oh God. You should get out of here.”

You stood up, helping Kiara up and both of you running away from the men.

“Oh my God. Oh my God.” JJ mumbled, watching.

You both looked around, a car pulling up. You both hid by a boat, before getting caught.

“They’re over here!”

You punched a man square in the face who tried to grab Kiara, sweeping his leg and making him fall before another caught your arm. And another grabbing Kiara as you thrashed and screamed.

“Get off!” You shouted, they both dragged you guys into their trucks as you struggled.

“What… what are we gonna do?” JJ asked, teary eyes. “We’re going after them, right?”

“What… what can we do?” John B spoke.

“Where are they talking them?”

“They’re all right there, they’re looking this way we gotta go.” Cleo said and began to swam. The other followed but Jj stayed behind for a moment.

“JJ come on. We can’t save them if we get caught.”

“We lost the others. We’ll keep searching.” You heard a voice over the man’s radio.

Kiara stayed in the bed of the truck, you looked around for a moment before jumping out and before you could even tell her to get out, you were being shouted at.

You ran away, as far as you could. But that wasn’t very far before they caught you again, one of them punching you and knocking you down, your cheek falling right back onto the sand.

“Jesus, dude! I’m gonna have a black fucking eye!” You shouted, groaning as they threw you back into the truck.

“Worth a shot, I guess.” You shrugged when Kiara looked at you in shock.

The pilot came up to the truck.

“We saved your life.” Kiara whispered to him.

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m gonna try to help you, okay? I swear, I didn’t know it was gonna be like this. Look, if you don’t fight, if you just do what they say, these guys probably… they probably won’t hurt you.”

“Probably?” You recoiled, making a face at him.

“What did Ward promise you?” Kiara asked.

“Who? Hey, just take my advice, do what they say. Good luck.”

The man got back in the truck.

“All right, let’s go.”

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Jesus, this dude is loaded.” You whispered to yourself when the truck drove up to the house. Kiara and you looked at each other worriedly as you were being walked in.

The house was huge, full of antiques and relics.

“Take them upstairs. The Orinoco room.” One women said, and you both were grabbed by the arm and dragged upstairs.

You shoved the dudes arm off you when you entered the room.

“Inside.”

“Why are we here? Who are you working for?”

“Dinner at eight. I’d clean up.”

“Just tell us what they want!-“ Kiara shouted, but the man shut the door in her face and the door locked.

“Great. This is fun. A little sleepover.”

Kiara looked out the window, and you looked at the dresses hanging up.

“At least they’ve got taste…?” You mumbled, flicking through the dresses. Two red dresses for each size.

“Pick your size.” The note read. You shrugged to yourself, grabbing one.

“Least it gets me out of these clothes.”

Later, the both of you were escorted downstairs.

“You know, this dress looks actually pretty good on me. Think they’ll let me keep it?” You asked Kiara when you walked downstairs, looking at yourself in a mirror.

“Why out of everyone to be stuck with did it have to be you?” She murmured.

“I’m offended. I think it’s a lot better than being struck with JJ. I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

As you walked down and were directed into a room.

“Uh, excuse me?” Kiara said to a man, with a shaved head.

The man turned around, his eyes meeting yours first, his face falling.

“No, I knew you and Ward were behind this shit.” Kiara spoke, your mouth agape as you stared at him as in shock.

“What are you talking about? You guys trying to weasel in on my deal? Is that what’s going on?” He walked towards Kiara.

“No fucking way!” You shouted, turning on your heels, holding your hands up and beginning to walk out before a guard manhandled you inside, throwing you onto the floor. “Goddamnit!” You huffed.

“Is there like any other room I can be in? Specifically without him?” You asked the guard, before he slammed the door in your face.

“Seriously?” Rafe started. “You’re so fucking imm-“

“Yes, seriously! Last time I saw you was months ago, and you held a gun to my head and a knife to my throat! How am I immature?” You pointed at him, standing up and getting closer to him, shouting in his face now.

“I wondered if your little reunion would cause sparks, you know.” A man said. All of you turning to him now. He chuckled and turned.

“Who are you?” Rafe asked the man.

“Me? My name is Carlos Singh. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron. And Ms. Carrera and l/n, I do apologize for the rough tactics of bringing you here.”

He turned his gaze to you.

“And I heard you’re a fighter. And a runner. Roughed up a few of my guys.” He chuckled. “All is forgiven. Please, come.” He motioned to the other room.

Kiara looked back at you.

“Sit down.”

Rafe looked at Kiara and at you, you sneered at him and walked behind Kiara, your arms crossed as you sat down on a chair.

“Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe asked the man.

“Yes, Mr. Cameron. False pretenses. But, the ends justify the means, I’m afraid. Sit. Please.”

Rafe sat on a chair next to you, while you scooted over as far as you possibly could. He exhaled as he looked at you and back at the man.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, fucking right we do.” You scoffed, leaning back in the chair.

- - - - ᨳ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ഒ - - - -

“Hey. Hey!” He shouted, hanging on the closed door and messing with the doorknob.

“Oh my God, yeah I’m gonna lock myself in the bathroom, do not disturb me.” You murmured as the man shut the door, Kiara grabbing your wrist and stopping you.

“If I have to deal with him, so do you.”

You groaned. “It’s locked, you dumbass.” You told him when he tried to continue to get it open. Kiara and you walked towards the window, he followed.

“Get off me, man!” Portis shouted.

“Who the hell is that guy?” Rafe asked, watching the man be dragged.

“We know him. It’s Jimmy Portis. He was trying to help us.” Kiara whispered. Singh looked at the window, pulling out a gun.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Rafe spoke, the man dissapearing in the back. All you could hear was the gun firing.

Rafe swallowed, Kiara panted, your mouth hung open in shock.

“This diary. Hey, no bullshit.” He turned to you, “don’t bullshit me. Do you guys have it?”

“I don’t know anything about a damn diary!” You told him. “You sure you don’t?”

“I think I would know if I fucking-“ he started.

“Kie?” You turned to her, voice hopeful. She shook her head.

“No.”

“Well, it’s official. We’re all dying together.” You said with a groan, running a hand over your face.

“Nobodies dying.” Rafe said, glancing at you.

“Yeah? What’s your bright idea then, buzz?” You asked, your arms crossed.

Ouch, went straight for the haircut.

#rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx series #rafe obx #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe x reader

[wannab-urs]

Burn Slowly/I Love You | Chapter 1

Warnings/Content/Summary: As always I live in a fantasy world where no one gets pregnant or gets STDs and no one uses a condom. This is fiction. Wear a fucking condom. Sex while intoxicated but like it’s two maybe three beers y’all they aren’t drunk. Alternating POV kind of? Reader has burn scars on her left arm, wrapping over her shoulder and a bit onto her chest. No other physical descriptors. Remember that Frankie is strong as hell so it doesn’t matter if you’re petite or amazonian, this man can toss you around all he wants to. Fuck first feelings later type beat. Eventual descriptions of PTSD, trauma, minor character death, panic attacks, flashbacks, etc.

Word Count - 2.2k

Your Chest is Heavy

You’re sitting at the worn oak counter of a dive bar just a few blocks from your apartment with a cheap beer and a copy of The Secret History. Reading at the bar is a good way to scare off most men who would normally approach you. The rest usually fuck off when you don’t even look up from the book, muttering “not interested” in their direction. It’s really hard to focus on this book, though. The plot is a little meandering, for one, but there’s also a lot of people here tonight making it loud. 

A sudden burst of laughter draws your attention. A group of guys stand around a hightop table on the far side of the room. At first glance, none are particularly appealing to you. Rowdy, obscenely muscular, clean shaven, close cropped hair. Not your type at all. You’re just about to go back to your book when one of the guys catches your eye. He doesn’t look quite like the others. Unruly dark curls stick out of a ballcap, a scruffy beard clings to his cheeks. He’s got broad shoulders and big arms like the others, but his face is softer around the edges. His eyes are still caught in the crinkles of his laughter when he meets your stare. Shit you’re staring. 

You quickly look back down at your book, curling in on yourself, hoping he doesn’t come over. You’ve basically used universal bar sign language for come talk to me and that is not what you want. Even if he’s really cute. 

“Dude, she was practically eating you with her eyes. Go over there!” Benny playfully nudges Frankie on the shoulder. 

“You haven’t had any action in ages, Catfish. Go,” Pope teases. 

Frankie scrubs a hand over his neck. “I don’t know. She was probably looking at you, Benny.” 

“She was definitely looking at you, Fish,” Will seems genuine, tone softer and less like he’s setting Frankie up to fail. 

Frankie sighs, lifting his cap and running a hand through his curls before stuffing it back on his head. “Fine. I’ll go talk to her.” The boys cheer like his love life is a fucking football game and he just scored a touchdown. 

Frankie slips into a bar stool beside you. “Uh… hi,” he says sheepishly. He feels like an idiot for doing this. 

“Not interested,” you mutter, barely even looking up from your book. Frankie’s face grows hot with shame. The boys will never let this go. Not a shot in hell. He sits there for a second, caught between facing your wrath if he doesn’t leave and facing the humiliation if he does. But just as he makes the decision to go, you look up at him. “Wait! I’m sorry. Habit.” 

Frankie cocks an eyebrow, but settles back into his seat. “I’m Frankie. Can I buy you a beer?”

“Yeah, Frankie. I’d like that.”

It wouldn’t have been right to send the man away without at least talking to him. That’s how you justify it to yourself. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous up close. In that first quick glance you’d caught the curve of his aquiline nose, the pout of his plump lips, and the blush creeping over his golden cheeks. That was enough to warrant at least a conversation. 

And fuck it was a good conversation. He asked about your book, which led to a rant about all the reasons you didn’t like it and all the reasons you were still reading it anyway, his eyes wrinkling at the corners as he grinned at you. “What?” 

“It’s cute when you ramble,” he’d said, scratching the back of his neck. 

You talked about your job at the library and he told you he’s an ambulance driver. He jerked a thumb toward the guys still nursing their beers behind him, “Firefighters. Buncha pendejos,” he’d said a little too loudly, winking at you. 

You had fully intended on letting him down gently. You didn’t come here to find someone to go home with, you came here to have a beer. And yet you had asked him if he wanted to head out of the bar. And now you’re sitting in  his truck, rolling down the highway.

“Can you turn the AC on?” You’re sweating through your long sleeve black shirt from the heat and your own nervousness. 

“Uh… It’s broken. I’m sorry,” Frankie kind of winces, like it physically hurts him to admit. “Not far from the house though.” 

“It’s fine! Just a little warm,” you play with the sleeve of your shirt and take a deep breath. It’s fine. It’s just a little heat. You’ll be okay. Breathe. “Actually, can I roll the window down?” 

Frankie chuckles and hits the button to roll all the windows in the truck down. Your heart rate evens out as the night air hits your face. 

The truck rolls to a stop in front of a small white house. You pick at your fingers, seriously questioning if you made the right choice. He seems so sweet. You feel… safe with him. But-

“Cariño? We’re here,” Frankie speaks low, like he’s worried you’ll spook and take off. He slowly reaches over the console and takes your hand, stopping your fidgeting. He rubs a soothing thumb over the back of your hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah!” you say too quickly, too loudly in the stillness of the truck cab. “It’s just, uh… It’s been a while. I’m nervous.” Frankie pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses it before laying it gently back down on the console. 

“It’s been a while for me too. I’ll take care of you, though. Promise.” He winks at you and it’s so dorky and cute that it calms you down a little. 

Frankie barely gets you through the door before he gently presses you into the wall and his soft, plush lips find yours. You melt into the kiss, bringing your hands up to cradle his face. You knock his trucker hat to the floor and bury your hands in his hair, deepening the kiss with a swipe of your tongue. He tastes like cheap beer and his beard scrapes against the soft skin of your face. He smells like citrus and sandalwood. Your senses are gently overpowered by him, a soft wash of Frankie covering you and settling what remains of your nerves. 

Every fear you had comes rushing back as he slips his fingertips under the hem of your shirt. You freeze before grabbing his wrist and placing a palm on his chest, pushing him away gently. “Shirt stays on and hands stay outside of it, okay? I’m sorry…” Your body tenses in anticipation of the rejection you know is coming. He’ll kick you out. Or disregard your wishes. 

Frankie’s hands find your cheeks, drawing your face up to look at him. “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He kisses you gently, reassuringly. It hits you again that you trust this stranger you just met in a bar. You deepen the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He hitches his hands under your thighs and pulls them up around his waist, settling you against his very prominent arousal. You roll yourself against him and he groans into your mouth. His hands wrap tightly around your body and he carries you down the hallway. 

He lays you gently on the bed and immediately goes for the button of your jeans, making sure to stay clear of your shirt. He tosses your jeans and underwear on the floor and drops to his knees beside the bed. 

“Oh, Frankie, you don’t have to-” your sentence is cut off by the low moan erupting from your throat as Frankie pulls your legs over his broad shoulders and buries his face in your cunt. His hooked nose grinds against your clit as he licks into you. Your hands find purchase in his curls and you roll your hips into him, grinding on his face. Frankie eats it up… literally. He groans into your pussy and you feel it reverberate through your entire body. Your head is thrown back in absolute ecstasy as he sucks your bud into his mouth, lapping at it rhythmically. You clench around nothing, pleasure curling up in your core. “Please, fuck, don’t stop. So close,” you cry out. Your voice is desperate, wrecked, and your hips are thrusting involuntarily against his face. 

You come with a near pained shout, hands tightening in Frankie’s hair and pulling him into you even harder as you grind on his nose. Frankie licks a trail from your entrance up to your mound, then presses kisses all the way up your clothed stomach and chest. He nips at your jaw as he unbuttons his pants and clumsily shoves them off with one hand, like he can’t bear to take his mouth away from you. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, hermosa,” he rumbles in your ear. “Could eat you out all night, if you’d let me.” 

You think you would let him, if you couldn’t feel his hardness pressed against your thigh. “Another time, Frankie.” You push your thigh against him. “Fuck me, please.” 

Frankie doesn’t need to be told twice. He stands up and pulls you further to the edge of the bed. He looks down at you, unconsciously licking his lips. “Fucking gorgeous…” he says under his breath. You could say the same about him. Half his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat and half are standing wild from your fingers raking through them. His big brown eyes are wide, almost in awe. His upper half is wrapped in a tight white t-shirt that accentuates his broad shoulders and strong chest. 

He grips his thick, uncut cock in his fist and lines it up with your entrance before grabbing your hips. He pulls your hips into him, splitting you wide open without moving his hips an inch. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so full in your fucking life. Your hands fly to his muscular forearms, hanging on for dear life as he sheathes himself inside your tight heat. “Holy fuck, Frankie.” 

“I know, baby, I know,” Frankie whispers as he bends to cover your body with his. He drags his cock out a couple of inches and rolls his hips in a fluid motion, sinking back into you and grinding against your clit on every stroke. Moans spill from your lips unchecked. You don’t care if you sound sexy or if the words you’re babbling make any sense because he feels so fucking good. 

Frankie sits up and wedges his knees under your thighs, kneeling on the edge of the bed. He grips your hips in his strong hands and easily pulls you into him, hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Your arms fly above your head, grasping onto the sheets. Your shirt rides up a little with the motion and you almost panic, but Frankie tangles his fingers into the fabric and holds the hem tight against your torso. Safe. You trust him.

Frankie grips you so hard you know you’ll bruise and slams his hips into yours, driving you closer and closer to coming. “You feel… so good, cariño. So. Fucking. Tight,” Frankie bites out between thrusts. You babble incoherently, the head of his cock is slamming into your cervix and it’s making you feel a little fuzzy around the edges. Nothing matters except Frankie’s cock buried inside you and the coil of pleasure building in your gut. He’s fucking you like a rag doll, now. Your body has gone boneless with the intensity of him inside you.

Your orgasm rips through you like a flame, burning you up from the inside out. You scream his name as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes taut with pleasure. Frankie steadily, brutally, fucks you through it. When your cunt finally stops convulsing around him, he drops your hips and leans over your limp, fucked out body. 

Frankie kisses you with a tenderness that seems at odds with the way he just fucked you, stuttering his hips into you one, two, three more times before pulling out and nestling his cock into the crease between your thigh and your torso. His cum splatters across your shirt in long spurts, coating you in his release. 

His forehead drops to yours and your heaving breaths mingle in the space between you. You meet his gaze and there’s something in his eyes… something like adoration. Affection. He shakes his head slightly and stands up. 

“I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” his voice comes out hoarse, rough with the after effects of his orgasm. He disappears into his closet and comes back with a big, long-sleeve t-shirt. You sit up slowly and take the shirt from him. 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you whisper. 

Frankie wakes up in his bed alone. His brow furrows in disappointment. He usually likes to make his hookups breakfast and drive them back to their car. He knows it’s a little weird, but it’s important to him that he takes care of you. He flops onto his side and catches a glimpse of a piece of  paper on his nightstand. It’s your number, your name signed with a heart and a note promising to return the shirt. 

Frankie smiles, feeling something dangerously close to hope for the first time in a long time.

A/N: This fic has been in the works for a while now. The initial idea was pitched in a chat with @beskarandblasters and she supported me every step of the way <3. Thanks to the Whorehomies for hyping me and this idea up! I appreciate y'all more than you'll ever know. And thanks to @str84pedro for the beta/grammar edit I love you!

Let me know if you want to be tagged <3

Tag List: @beskarandblasters, @cutesyscreenname, @atinylittlepain, @harriedandharassed, @jksprincess10, @fishingforpike, @dreamingofdaddydin, @sad-bitch-disorder

#Frankie Morales #Frankie Morales fics #Frankie Morales fan fiction #Frankie Morales x reader #Frankie Morales x you #Triple Frontier #former firefighter!frankie #ambulance driver!frankie #bsily #burn slowly i love you #one night stand to lovers #slow burn #which is ironic because they fuck immediately but the romance is a slow burn #point out my fire references it makes me giggle #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro fics #pedro pascal character fanfiction

[rhoorl]

Working Title: Chapter 7

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Belle

Rating: Mature, 18+, for the love of all things please don’t engage if you are a minor ok? 

Word Count: 6.4k 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Chapter 7 on AO3

Chapter Summary: We find out what Dieter had planned for the afternoon.

Warnings: This chapter has some swearing. I don’t want to spoil anything, but here’s just a blanket “there could be adult stuff happening” warning. There is also a brief mention of body insecurity and a past toxic relationship. 

Dieter motions for you to lead the way, his hand again lightly resting on your lower back. You hope he doesn't see the goosebumps that have formed on your arms.

“So, where are we going?” You try and sound nonchalant. “Are you sure I don’t need to change or anything?” motioning to your outfit.

“No, what you’re wearing is fine. I have another idea, but that would require some … changing…maybe next time. You’re good the way you are, more than good.” He looked over to you with a smirk, his eyes giving a hint of something more.

“Oh, so you are assuming there will be a next time?” you tease.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he blushes. “Uh, I- uh, sorry I didn’t me-”

“I’m just messing with you,” you lean into him, your arm brushing against his.

You make it to the front of the resort and see a car pull up. You recognize this as the same one Ari used to pick you up from the airport. The valet parks the car, gets out, and runs around to open the door for you, except Dieter beat him to it. 

“Thanks, man,” he opens his hand to collect the keys from the valet. “Hey, here you go.” He fishes out a few bills from his wallet to hand over.

"Thanks, Mr. Bravo," the kid smiled before hustling off to go retrieve the next car. 

Dieter turns and opens the door up further for you and guides you, closing the door gently. You could probably count the number of times a man has opened a car door for you with one hand. It wasn’t a gesture you expected, but for some reason having Dieter do it made you feel warm.

This feels nice, right? Like he wants to take care of me. Ok, hold on, you're going a bit overboard. He just opened a fucking door.

While you have this inner debate with yourself, Dieter manages to jog around the front of the car, groaning as he gets into the driver's seat. 

“Are you ok?” You ask as he adjusts the seats and the mirrors.

“Nah, yeah it’s just my back, sitting all day isn’t really the best for it.”

“Oh no! Need me to drive? Do you need to get something? Ibuprofen? Icy Hot? A massage?”

Fuuck. I did not mean for that to come out. The intrusive thoughts are really winning right now. Shush. 

He turns his head over to you, lowering his chin and arching his eyebrows. 

“Why, are you offering?” he teases.

Your eyes bug out slightly and you feel your pulse quicken and your face turn red. Frozen, you're unsure what to say next. You want to flirt back so badly, but you feel…silly. Like, how could this absolutely stunning man be showing interest in you? There has to be something you aren't picking up on.

Moving to face forward, he clears his throat and puts the car in drive. You needed something to do with your hands so you pull your hair out of the clip and start fidgeting with it.

“So, uh, Indy said you two used to play volleyball?”

Thankful that he changed the subject, but you're also annoyed at Indy for giving him the visual of you in volleyball shorts.

“Oh yea, we played a lot when we were younger, all the way through high school. Indy wasn’t able to play our senior year because she got the lead in a play and she was too stressed out,” you recall.

Dieter cautiously weaves his way out of the resort and onto the main road as you tell him stories about playing, fondly reminiscing about all the fun you had on and off the court too.

“Once Indy found out I learned how to braid hair, it was game over,” you chuckle. “I became the designated team braider….I guess, that was when I started doing other people’s hair besides hers.” You smile, looking out the window.

"No offense, but aren't you a little short for volleyball?" He wasn't being snarky, he was legitimately asking. This was a common reaction when people found out you used to play. Indy was tall, so it made sense, but you were a good six inches shorter than her.

“I played libero, so you don’t have to be super tall.”

“Do you still play?”

“It’s been a while, but yea.”

“Volleyball players have those uh…short shorts right?” He gives you a quick glance, keeping his eyes forward and both hands firmly on the wheel. 

Are his knuckles turning white?

“Ha yea, well those shorts don’t really fit the way they used to,” you laugh. 

He chuckles. “I’ve been trying to be respectful, but from what I've seen I feel like you could still pull them off,” he winks. 

You feel your face getting hot, unsure how to even respond to that. You look down and fidget with the hair clip in your lap, letting out a nervous laugh.

“I. Uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Sorry, I’m a little rusty with…flirting.” 

“What? No, no. Don’t be sorry!” you reassured him. “Honestly, I am too…rusty. I can’t remember the last time someone flirted with me, so it just threw me off is all.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I figured you got hit on all the time and I was just lame.”

“You? Lame?” you look over and give him a confused look. “You could never be lame.”

He laughs. “Oh I’m a dork, I guess I just hide it well,” he gives a slight wink.

“That’s not a word I would have used for you.”

“What word would you use,” he asks with that low tone he’s used a few times with you.

“Uh. Hmm.” You try and buy yourself some time to try the right word because your mind was going a mile a minute. 

Hot. Handsome. Sexy. 

“Genuine," whispering it to yourself.

He looks taken aback by that. “Genuine?”

“Y- yeah, you have really kind eyes and… I don't know, you seem like a really genuine guy. I’ve always thought that when I’ve watched your movies and interviews and stuff.”

“That’s…that’s really nice, thank you,” he crinkles his nose and smiles at you. 

A silence settles between the two of you. Normally this would make you uncomfortable, wanting to fill in the space with ramblings, but this didn't feel awkward. Swallowing hard, you look over to Dieter who has relaxed his grip on the steering wheel to have just one hand resting at the top. He looks like he's grappling with something.

“For what it’s worth, I … I think you’re pretty genuine too.” He keeps his gaze forward but glances at you every so slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up.

“Thanks,” you smile. 

The car lurches to a stop at a red light. You’d been stealing glances at each other for the whole drive, but now he was able to look over at you without fear of driving you both off the road. 

He didn’t give you the widest of smiles, it looked like he was thinking of something, but a smile did extend to his eyes. Your heart rate starts to quicken as he moved his right hand, thinking he may be reaching over to grab your hand. But, he just places his hand to rest over the gear shift, his thumb rubbing circles absentmindedly. The move isn't really meant to be suggestive you think, but your mind can't help to wonder how it would feel for him to rub circles on your cl- 

Fuck, don't look at his hands don't look at his hands. Don't go there.

Hearing a honk from behind, he snaps out of it. “Oh shit, it’s green,” he chuckles as you return your gaze forward.

Other than the day you arrived, this was the first time you had been outside of the resort. You take the opportunity to look out the window at the lush landscape. There was a reason this was called the Garden Isle, everywhere you looked it was green. You could feel Dieter glancing over at you.

“Beautiful,” he says softly before clearing his throat. “Uh- it’s beautiful right?” Nodding past you towards the scenery outside of your window.

“Yea, it really is. I’m glad I get to finally see some of it…so … where are we going?”

“Don’t you like surprises?”

“I don’t really get them that often,” you laugh. 

“Well, you got one last night.”

“Ha true. That was honestly so sweet of you.”

“Ah, I see what you did there…”

“Wha- oh,” you bring your palm to your forehead. “Did not mean for the pun. It was very … nice of you. Thoughtful.”

He preens at the praise.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

“So, you’re still not gonna tell me where we’re going? How do you even know where to go by the way? I thought you hadn't been to this island before.”

“Ok detective,” he snorted, a smirk coming across his face. “No, I haven’t been to this island before. There’s only like one highway, so it’s not that hard to navigate. Plus, I'm great with directions.” He looked over at you, swallowing hard. “Uh, we’re probably like five minutes away.”

You thankfully settle into a more relaxed back and forth for the rest of the drive by asking about each other’s days. The car starts to slow down as he turns left onto a red dirt road. There is a building up ahead with a lot of cars in a parking lot and a sign that you can’t quite make out. Dieter looks over to you conspiratorially with an eyebrow raised to see if you have an idea of what he’s up to. You playfully roll your eyes at him and return your gaze forward. As the sign gets closer you recognize the colors and then you start to see the outline of a shape. A coffee cup? Finally, it comes into view. 

“Is this the same coffee we drank this morning?” You perked up realizing it must be some farm or retail space.  

Dieter gives you a big smile. “See … I didn’t want to ruin the surprise. Yea, that coffee is from a local company and this is their farm.”

You shake your head, furrowing your brows as you look down at the hair clip in your hands. You chuckle to yourself. It was as if he was trying to find ways to make you smile. 

Again with something thoughtful. 

“What? Is this lame? Sorry…I thou-” He ruffles his hair and finds a parking spot. Once parked, he turns his body to look at you with his puppy dog eyes.

“Wha- no! Oh my goodness, no!” Wanting to reassure him you lean over and grab his bicep, giving it a slight squeeze. “This … this is so nice! I uh-” 

You feel a wave of simultaneous emotions, it’s overwhelming. On the one hand, you feel giddy. It makes you feel special that he thought of something you might like, something small you both share. And that he made the effort to bring you here. But all of that care and attention made you uncomfortable. These kinds of sweet gestures – from surprise gifts to opening the car door – happened to people like Indy, not you.

Your mind goes to Ryan and the years you spent being a second thought. The time away from him, and your sessions with Carla, made you finally come to grips with how little he valued and cared for you. You had internalized this notion of being unworthy so deep into your being. Unworthy of kindness, unworthy of care…unworthy of love. Even though it had been weeks since you finally ended things, these feelings were still so fresh and right at the surface.

Fidgeting with the hair clip in your hand, you can feel yourself starting to tear up, a common reaction when you feel frustrated or overwhelmed.

“Hey, I- shit. l…" Dieter rubs his hand over his face. "I thought that you liked the coffee so much and since you drink it black you can really taste the flavor and they have a fuck ton of flavors here and maybe we can grab a few bags to take back to the hotel so we can have it in the mornings.” Dieter rambles, trying to search your eyes to see how you’re feeling. You could tell he wanted to reach over and comfort you, but he was trying to give you space.

You chastised yourself as a rogue tear fell down your cheek.

“Shit, I - I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

Seeing you cry snaps something in him. He leans over to bring his hand to cup the back of your head lightly scratching your scalp, trying to soothe you. Looking up you see his puppy dog eyes working overtime as he looks at you.

“No, shit, I’m sorry” you sniffle and shift more toward him, reluctantly making eye contact. 

He was so desperately trying to search your face for what he did wrong and how to fix it. He moves his other hand to cup your face, wiping the tear that had fallen with his thumb. As if almost by instinct, you lean into his touch. He was calming you down. You both stayed like this for a few moments while you kept your eyes closed, trying to breathe and collect yourself.

“Fuck. I’m really sorry,” you finally muster. Sitting back in your seat, you pull down the sun visor to see how red your face is. “Th- this was so sweet, honestly Dieter, thank you. I still want to go in, if that’s ok?”

Furrowing his brows, he gives your thigh a little squeeze. “Yea, whatever you want to do sweetheart.”

You give him a little smile. “I feel like I should explain or someth-”

“No, you don’t. I mean, if you want to I’m all ears, but don’t feel like you have to explain anything to me. We can sit here for as long as you want, or leave. It’s up to you..” He gives you a lopsided smile. 

You give yourself one last glance in the mirror. “Ok, let’s go.”

“Yea? Are you sure?"

"Yea. Let's do it." You open the door, grab your bag and step out of the car.

You didn't realize that he had taken this time to get out of the car and come over to you, reaching you as you close the door. He's close and his eyes rake over your face. 

"Hey, come here," he opens his arms up for a hug.

You close the distance, reaching your arms around his midsection and flattening your hands on his midback, giving a slight squeeze. 

His arms come around your shoulders before he moves one of his hands up to cup the back of your neck, giving you a quick kiss on the top of your head. You took in what felt like your first deep breath in minutes, relaxing into the embrace.

"Are you sure you're good? We can leave and head back, I won't mind. Whatever you want to do." You can feel his lips on your hair as he speaks. He gives you one last kiss on the head before pulling back to look at you.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you smile.

"Ok sweetheart, let's go," he keeps one arm on your shoulder as he leads the way to the building that you assume is some sort of gift shop.

"Thank you," you look up at him as you walk up the stairs to the entrance.

"For what?"

"Just…just being here." You pull away to face him. He furrows his brows, confused. "I know you said I don't have to explain, and I don't really want to right now," you gesture around. This wasn't a conversation to have in public. "But I do want to … to explain at some point."

"You take whatever time you need, I'm here," he smiles, reaching over to give you a side hug as he opens to door to the gift shop.

You walk into a retail space seeing a bunch of merchandise ranging from T-shirts and coffee mugs to cookbooks. The smell of coffee hits your nostrils as you walk in. When you were younger you hated the smell and taste of coffee, but as an adult, you’ve grown to appreciate it.

"It smells so fucking good in here." Dieter looks around spotting a wall of coffee bags. "Ooo over here." He grabs your hand and leads you over.

You look down, trying to confirm that your hand is actually enveloped in Dieter's. He readjusted so your fingers were intertwined and you feel a warmth cascade over your body. You felt safe.

Snapping out of it, you look at the wall of coffee as you both stop in front of it. He wasn't kidding, there were a ton of flavors. Still holding your hand, he starts to read off the different flavors.

"Hi there, do you want to sample any?" A young man with a name tag comes up.

"Oh, oh yeah. Want to?" Dieter looks over at you.

"Yea, that would be great!"

"Awesome, well we have our tasting bar set up outside. There's also more information about the farm out there too." The young man gestures to another door.

"Cool, thanks." 

Dieter leads the two of you outside.

The next several minutes are spent sampling all of the different coffee flavors. You both come up with a little game where one of you tried a sample and attempted to guess if the other would like it or not.

You realize that while Dieter appreciated the different flavors, he was more of a fan of simple roasts, particularly the dark roasts. You, on the other hand, were reveling in unique flavors like coconut caramel crunch and vanilla macadamia nut.

When you both had your fill of the samples you head back inside to gaze at the coffee bags to choose what would be coming back to the resort. You had been a bit oblivious to this earlier, but as you head inside the gift shop you start to notice eyes on the two of you and people whispering. 

You could count on one hand the number of times you had been out with Indy and she got recognized. But you can't begin to imagine what it must be like for Dieter to go anywhere in public. Looking over at him, he seems unaware of the sudden interest his presence is commanding from the other patrons.

"So, which ones should we get?" He gestures to the wall in front of you.

"Hmm…it's hard to decide, they were all so good. What about this one and that one?" You pointed to two of the varieties Dieter had gushed about outside.

"Ok and what else?"

"What do you mean what else. How much coffee are you trying to get?" You chuckle, looking over at him.

"Well, these two are the ones I liked. What about the ones you liked?" He leans in, smirking as he whispers, "I'm planning on drinking a lot of coffee. And hopefully, most of it is with you."

Your nerves come back again. "I, uh. Well, I'd hate to make you drink something you weren't a big fan of. We can get these bags," pointing to the original two you grabbed.

"Belle," he turns and lightly touched your arm. "Pick what you like. It's not like I was gagging at any of these. Sure there are some I prefer over others, but I'll drink whatever."

"Ok," you concede, grabbing one additional bag. 

He gives you a side eye and tells you to pick another, so you do it. You both head over with your bags in tow to check out.

Dieter sets his bags down and then grabs the two from your hands to place them in front of the cashier, who is eyeing him like they're trying to place him.

"Wha- what're doing? I can buy those."

"No, I brought you here, it's my treat."

“Dieter, you don't have to do that."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him whispering in your ear, "I want to. So leave it."

"Well, thank you.*

“You're welcome sweetheart," he moves to give another kiss on the top of your head, looking back at the cashier with a smile. You feel an electric pulse down your spine.

"Hey, aren't you that guy fr-" the cashier starts to ask as Dieter signs the receipt.

"Ha yea, that's me!" 

He spends the next couple of minutes talking with the cashier who was gushing about what a big fan they were. Dieter gives them his full attention and smiles and laughs as they chat. In the end, he asks if they want a picture.

"Oh yes, that would be awesome. Sorry, I didn't want to interrupt your date more than I already have."

"It's ok, here let's take a picture." He releases the arm from around your shoulder and heads around the counter as the cashier grabs their phone and frantically tries to unlock it. You hadn't realized how accustomed you had gotten to feeling Dieter's arm on you or having his body so close. You miss the warmth immediately.

"Thank you," the cashier says after Dieter snaps a couple of selfies, checking to make sure they looked ok before handing the phone back. "Have a great day and come see us again!"

"Thank you!" You both said in unison as you walked out of the shop.

As you make your way back to the car, he reaches for your hand. It feels so instinctive and comfortable like you have been doing this for years with each other. 

He opens the car door for you again, handing you the shopping bag so you can put it on the floor at your feet. Once he gets back in and starts the car he looks over to you. "I know we had a little rough start to the visit, but I hope you had fun?" 

"Wha- Ah I'm … I had fun! This was a great idea Dieter, thank you." You genuinely had fun once you settled in. "This was honestly…between the cookies and this? This was one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me."

He smiles and reaches for your hand, squeezing it.

"Good, I'm glad." He glanced at the clock. "I know it may be a little early, but are you hungry? Want to grab dinner?"

"Yea, I'd like that."

Dieter had a recommendation from Danny, so he pulled up the address on his phone to navigate there. 

On the way you both settle into conversation, talking about things you want to do and see on the island during your time there. You don't even remember when he did this, but at one point you look down to see his hand resting on your thigh, his thumb drawing small, light circles.

You can tell by the GPS you're close, getting excited as you see him turning toward the ocean.

"Looks like this is it," he gestures to a small hut-like building with an amazing view of the ocean. "According to Danny, this spot has awesome seafood. Shit, do you like seafood? You aren't allergic, are you? I should have asked instead of assum-"

"Hey," you grab the hand resting on your thigh."I love seafood, it's one of my favorites."

"Oh…oh yea, duh…I knew that."

You furrow your brows and look at him. "How? I haven't told you that."

"Oh, ah," he rubs the back of his neck with his left hand. "I, uh, I may have asked Indy what kind of food you liked."

"Aw, that's sweet of you. You could have just asked me, you know," you chuckled.

"I know, but I wanted to … surprise you." He offered with a sheepish grin.

Now it was your turn to give his hand a little squeeze.

You head inside, grabbing a small table outside with an amazing unobstructed view of the ocean.

After you place your orders and the server takes your menus, you prop one elbow on the table and rest your head in your hand, closing your eyes, and taking a deep breath. You smell the ocean and hear the relaxing sound of the waves.

"Are you ok?" Dieter asks with a slight tinge of concern in his voice.

Your eyes blink open. "Oh, yea. I'm just really…content?"

"Is that a question?" He laughs.

"Ha, no. I guess I don't know the word for it. Just happy I suppose," crinkling your nose and looking down at your hands.

"If it helps, I'm very…content too." He puts both forearms on the table, leaning forward slightly. He reaches his hand for yours, his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your joined hands. A small smile comes across his face.

"Excuse me," you hear a Southern drawl snap you out of your little moment. "I am such a big fan, can I get a selfie with you, hun?'

Your turn to see a woman probably your mom's age beaming at Dieter. She was holding out her phone.

Giving a charming smile he says yes, even helping her figure out how to get her camera open before he takes the photo himself.

"You are such a doll, and even more handsome in person. You're a lucky lady," she looked at me with a smirk. 

"I, we're not-"

"I'm the lucky one," he cuts you off, smiling up at her.

"Well, you're both adorable. Thank you, sweetie. Didn't mean to interrupt."

Dieter watches her leave over his shoulder and then looks back at you. You have a quizzical look on your face.

"What?"

"Nothing…" you clear your throat. "Does that ever get annoying?"

"Um, I don't know if annoying is the right word…" he says looking down and fidgeting his hands. "Normally I'm fine with it. Actually, it's pretty cool to have people like my work. And, if I can help make someone's day brighter then that makes me feel good," he steals a glance at you with a smile. "Sometimes in situations like this," he gestures between the two of you, "or when I'm with my family it can get a little tiresome because I'm just trying to exist like a normal person."

You reach over and squeeze his hand.

"Well, you looked really gracious and I'm sure you made her day, hell probably her year with the way she was looking at you," you laugh.

The rest of your dinner goes by without incident, both of you easily talking for what felt like hours. Your inadvertent yawn is what spurns Dieter to ask for the check.

On the way back to the car you complimented the choice of restaurant. "That food was amazing! You'll have to tell Danny it gets five out of five stars in my book."

"Ha, well maybe you can tell him tomorrow yourself. Are you excited to get started with the shoot?"

"Yea. I feel like it's been a lot of set up and I just want to dive in, ya know?"

"Ha, yea."

The drive back was relaxed, both of you quietly thinking to yourselves. Between the food you ate and the gentle rocking of the car, you can feel your eyes getting heavy.

"Belle, hey sweetheart we're here," you hear Dieter say as he rubs your arm.

You aren't sure where you are as you start to blink your eyes open, the first thing you see is Dieter leaning over to you, coaxing you awake.

“Did I fall asleep?” 

He nodded.

You bring your hands to your face, shaking your head. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry that is so embarrassing.” 

“You don’t need to be embarrassed it was cute. And no, you didn’t snore or anything like that. Even if you did, it would have been ok,” he says with a smile. 

The valet opens your door and you step outside, Dieter meets you around the car and takes the shopping bag from you as you head upstairs.

As the elevator opens to your floor, nerves flood over you. You make it to Dieter's room first and you both stop. He turns to look at you, his eyes bouncing down to your lips and back. His hand rubs down your arm, closing the distance between you.

"Belle, can I-"

You hear the ding of the elevator and pull back from each other.

Indy and Sam spill out of the elevator, clearly in the middle of a heavy make-out session that will inevitably end up in one of their rooms, most likely Sam's since it is closer.

Dieter clears his throat loudly, giving you a side eye and a smirk. Indy and Sam pull away from each other abruptly, not realizing they had an audience.

"Oh…oh hey…Belle…Dieter!" She waves, trying to catch her breath. 

"Hey, Indy! Hi, Sam!" You call back waving, trying to suppress your smirk.

Sam gives a little wave and tries to hide behind Indy, but you already clocked the bulge in his shorts.

Shit, no wonder she is losing her mind over this guy. 

"Don't let us interrupt you, you all have a good night," Dieter calls over to them with a wave.

Sam seems thankful for a way out and turns on his heel to open the door to his room. Indy hurries behind him but gives you a devilish grin.

Looking back at you, Dieter smirks. "Well, I guess we know where they'll be the rest of the night." 

You look from his eyes down to his lips, suddenly feeling nervous again. You want to kiss him, hell you want to do more than that. But your emotions from earlier were still very much at the surface, and it bubbles up other memories you didn't want to deal with right now.

"Belle?" Dieter snaps you back to reality. He's giving you those eyes again. He swallows hard and you can't help but track his Adam's apple as it bobs up and down. "C-can I kiss you?" He said it with such earnestness, but also a darkness behind his eyes.

"Uh, y-yea."

Your mouth moved before your brain could. You felt like you were on a rollercoaster that was reaching its first big drop, scared about what was over the crest, but wanting the thrill.

"Yea?"

You nod and he drops the bag with the coffee to the ground and slowly closes the gap between you. He brings one hand up to cup your face, the other resting on your waist. He angles his head down slightly, as you bring your hands up to rest on his chest as he finally makes contact with your lips. 

His kiss is soft like he's still asking for permission. You kiss him back with a bit more fervor which gives him the cue he needs. His hand snakes its way to the back of your head pulling you in deeper. You slink one of your hands up to the back of his neck, raking the curls at the end of his hair and then lightly scratching his scalp. You can tell he likes that when he gives a small moan into your mouth. 

He walks you back, moving the arm at your waist and extending it so he can feel where the wall is. He has you caged in and is pushing himself closer to you. You can feel him getting hard, which in turn fuels the fire starting to simmer in your core.

He tests his limits with his tongue, trying to gauge your receptiveness as he explores your mouth. You couldn't help the whimper that came out of you, which only made him crash into you harder. 

"I've been dying to hear that sound again baby," he says as he trails kisses down your neck and back up.

You moved your other hand from his chest to cup his face, scratching his stubble and imagining it would feel like on other parts of your body.

You don't know how long you stay making out, content with being close to him. He works his way from your mouth to your jaw and down your neck, giving you little nips before coming back to your mouth. Every once in a while he'd slow down and lightly bite your bottom lip.

His hand moved to trace down your body. His palm splayed out so he lightly touched the outside of your breast as he made his way down and around your waist and cupped your ass, which elicited moans from both of you.

You wanted more, but just not right now. You needed to stop before your head got in the way and ruined things. His hand starts to inch its way up from the bottom hem of your shirt. Suddenly aware that he's getting closer to feeling or seeing more of your body you pull back, catching your breath for the first time since this all started.

He pulls back to see your face, but you cast your eyes downward. The hand that was entwined in your hair makes its way to your chin as he tilts your face upward. You both take each other in before he rests his forehead against yours.

"Was that ok?" He finally breaks the silence. 

Finally getting your breath under control you manage a "yes."

"Yea?"

"Th- that was probably the best first kiss I've ever had. No, it was. That was the best first kiss I've ever had," you looked up at him through your eyelashes, biting your lower lip and nervously giggling at your honest admission.

You hadn't kissed that many people in your life, certainly not as many as Dieter. But even with a smaller pool to compare it to, you just knew that the last several moments had ruined anyone else for you for the rest of your life.

He brings both of his hands to cup your face so you can continue to look at him. "I can, without a doubt, say the same thing." He kisses you on your forehead. "And I'd like to do it again."

You smile. He's shown you nothing but kindness and sincerity, yet you still can't bring yourself to believe him. But, you kiss him back opting for actions over words right now.

"D-do you want to come in?" You feel him smile against your neck.

Pulling back, the nerves start bubbling up. "Uh, I'm uh I…"

"Shh it's ok," he rests his hands along your arm, giving small, comforting circles as you look down. "Hey, sorry. I…uh…I didn't mean to assume. C-can you look at me?" He whispered. 

You look up at him and he's looking down at you with such reverence. 

"Listen, I … I obviously want you," he chuckles, looking down at your body and rubbing his hands up and down your arms. "But I don't want to make you uncomfortable. And if tonight ends right here then I'm more than fine with that. I feel lucky I was able to get a kiss…I've been wanting to kiss you si- … well, for a while. And I'm so fucking happy you let me."

You bring your arms around his neck, and he takes that as an opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, settling into an embrace.

"Yea? This is ok?"

"Of course, baby," he said with a low voice, kissing you chastely on the lips.

You smile as he brings his forehead to yours, taking time to close your eyes and breathe, staying present in the moment.

"Thank you for today.”

"We should uh- we should find something to do tomorrow."

"We have to work tomorrow," you giggle, pulling back to look at him and bringing your hands down to rest on his chest.

"Ha, right, yes we have work. What time do you have to be there?"

"My call time is 5 a.m. to get everything prepped. When’s yours?"

"Uh, I think it's like 8."

"How many scenes do you have to shoot?"

"Just two I think, so shouldn't be too long of a day. Want to have coffee in the morning before you head down? Danny got me some insulated mugs so you could take one with you."

"What? That would be so early for you."

"Well, for one, I'll most likely already be up," he rubs the back of his neck. "And two, I…I can't think of a better way to start the day." He gives a small lopsided grin, a dimple showing.

You shake your head, eyes cast down. "I'm sure sleeping in is a better way to start your day."

"But I want to see you," his voice is suddenly small, the most vulnerable you've heard it.

"Ok…I'll come over at like…4:30?"

"Yea, that sounds good," he says as he gives you one last kiss which then moves into another and another.

You finally move away from each other, trying to catch your respective breaths. He gathers both of your hands in his, squeezing them before bringing them to his lips for a kiss.

"I…I’ll see you in the morning."

"Yea…sounds good," he smiles.

You make it to your door and steal a glance over before inserting your room key to unlock it. When you look, you realize that Dieter had been watching you, leaning against the wall, waiting for you to get into your room safely.

You give a little wave and head inside. Once the door closes, you lean with your back against it and take in what just happened. 

Holy shit, I just made out with Dieter Bravo in a hotel hallway. After he took me out on a…date? It was a date, right?

It was late, but you needed to try and get some sleep, otherwise, tomorrow was going to be rough. You rush through your night routine not realizing it was done with a smile on your face.

As you settle into bed, you triple-check that all of your alarms are set and you put your phone on the charger. When you're finally settled in bed, your phone dings. You roll over to look, assuming it was Indy telling you not to wait up. You smile when you unlock your phone and see a text from Dieter.

DIETER: Sweet dreams, Belle. I’ll see you soon.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: This is probably the chapter I tinkered with the most so far, so I hope you like where it landed. Fun fact - the coffee place (and the cookies) are actually real companies. I’m thinking of doing a post at some point showing off all of the little references (once we visit a few more places). 

As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate all of the kind comments and reblogs and likes this little story gets! Thanks for going on this little journey with me. Tag list: @musings-of-a-rose / @legendary-pink-dot / @bitchwitch1981 / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @gracie7209 / @amneris21 / @pastelnap / @maryfanson / @sunnywithachanceofjavi / @sin-djarin / @winchestergypsy90 / @for-a-longlongtime

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #working title fic #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x you

[cupoftaae]

can u do something cute like reader has their wisdom teeth taken out and is all loopy and fluffy while tae takes care of them? :)

Hello! this is super cute thank u anon !!

Also, ive recieved some other asks and I will definitely start writing and posting them tomorrow!! thank you all for sending, I love your ideas.

Ice cream- kth drabble.

warnings-mentions of blood.

Taehyung stood over the small fish tank which resided in the waiting room of the dentists office. You had gone in a few hours earlier for the removal of your wisdom teeth, something you tried multiple times to get out of.

"arent you a little old to be at the childrens dentist?" Taehyung turns his head to see a smug looking 13 year old with crossed arms. He raised his eyebrows, suprised.

to be fair, 1, he was here for you, and 2, yeah...you were too old to be coming to the pediatrics center. He told you so many times to switch to his dentist but you refused, he just assumed they would drop you as a patient eventually considering you are now in your mid 20's.

"is Kim Taehyung here?" an older lady stepped out from behind the front desk to call him, grabbing his attention as he turned away from the weird child.

"thats me" he raised his hand

"great! Y/N is all set, she is just waking up now" the woman spoke, allowing him to follow behind her down the hallway which was filled with children's drawings and stickers. he smiled to himself before being directed into a room with another assistant.

he couldn't hold back his laughs when he saw you, now sitting up, in a reclined seat. "hi sweetheart, you did it!" he cheered, coming over and brushing your hair out of your face, noticing the puffiness of your cheeks and jaw.

your eyes scanned over him momentarily before widening them, suddenly remembering who he was. "tae!" you sat up more, "look what they did to me!" you mumbled before you reached into your mouth, pulling out a blood soaked wad of cotton.

"woah, no, no baby, leave that in there, ok?" taehyung panicked, turning to the nurse as she prepped a new cotton pad to place against your gums.

"did you see it?" you murmured, words hard to make out.

"yes, I did. how dare they." he shook his head and returned his seat next to you once the nurse finished, handing him your discharge papers to sign so he could take you home.

"can we leave, jesus christ, they are gonna kill me" the younger nurse laughed at your words, taking back the paper work from tae.

"baby no ones gonna kill you, ok? I love you, im proud of you" he beamed, scanning your eyes. "youre kinda cute" you smile, completely ignoring him and focusing on his hair and face. "gimme a kiss" you whined.

he leaned to kiss your forehead, "cmon lets go home and have ice cream, yeah?"

"ice cream?" you whipped your head around

"mhm"

you started to tear up, cupping his face as he laughed. "baby why the tears?"

"because, I love ice cream and I love you" you cried

Tae chuckled and stood up, holding your hand.

"dont laugh at me, youre just like them" you said, pointing at the 'evil' nurses to the side.

"they are very nice people, sweetheart, they helped get rid of your yucky teeth" he spoke softly as he helped you into a wheel chair.

"oh if you wanna defend them why dont you just marry them?" you mumble yelled in his face, making him shake his head and apologize to the nurse who found the situation hilarious.

"im already getting married to someone" he smiled

"who?" you gasped, seeming angry as he wheeled you out of the room.

"look at your hand, dummy"

you look down to see a ring on your finger, gasping once again

"what the fuck? we are getting married?!!" you shout, causing tae to panic and cover your mouth, "baby shhhh" he laughed once you reached the parking lot, helping you into the car.

you turned to the nurse who also had come out to help and pointed at tae, whispering loudly "im marrying him"

"oh he is a lucky man" the older lady laughed and took back the wheelchair once you were out and into the passenger seat.

once you were buckled, tae got in and began to drive home. you were restless and continued to whine. "hold the ice pack on your jaw, my love, it'll help" he looked over and moved your hand back up.

"It hurts" you pouted and tried (once again) to pull out the cotton.

"y/n stop, im serious. its there for a reason" taehyung struggled to keep you in his view of vision as he drove.

"you hate me!!!" you cried and turned your entire body to face the window, while he just simply looked at you with a blank expression.

"mkay" he spoke, turning his eyes back to the road. "no ice cream then i guess"

"youre turning against me" you spoke after a moment.

"baby, im trying to help you"

"you are turning against me. and then you will turn against Yeontan, and then your parents, and then when we have kids you will turn against them too and th-"

taehyung stopped at the red light and reached for your hand. "I know you are loopy as hell right now and dont even know whats happening but stop talking like that, I love you and your bloody mouth. now keep the cotton in there until we get home"

you glared at him and then stared out the window.

Of course this silent treatment ended the moment you were in bed and given a bowl with vanilla ice cream in it.

taehyung came back into the room to put a more firm pillow behind your head, as well as an extra blanket over your feet. He giggled and kissed your nose, stepping back to take a picture of you under the nest of sheets.

"you look like a little squirrel" he spoke, cupping your face.

"am i a cute squirrel?" you asked

"obviously" tae moved and sat next to you, kissing your cheek before resting his head on your shoulder. "is it good?"

"so good" you smiled weakly and grabbed a spoonful to feed to him, making him open his mouth and taste it. "thank you"

you both sat quietly as you watched tv before you suddenly spoke up.

"tae"

"hm?"

"dont ever make me go back to the dentist again" you threatened, pointing the spoon at him.

"okay, noted."

a/n- I had fun writing this

#taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung drabble #taehyung series #taehyung x reader #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓? ꒱ 古賀祐大

summary : you and your boyfriend broke up on bad terms, however, you can't seem to get over him when it would be so easy to be under him instead

genre : angst, non-idol!k x afab!reader, 1st person pov (yeah idk why either) tws : angst, suggestive content, kissing, alcohol consumption, language, toxic!k, lovesick!reader, jealousy, verbal fight author notes : fuma’s innocent don’t do girl don’t do itttt word count : 2.2k

my phone pinged! and i debated ignoring it — for the nth time in the last hour. the music was blasting, the bass shaking the house in a dub-step rhythm. i took another swig from the metal can that had somehow made it into my hands as another text rang out and caught the attention of the girl attached to my arm. the smooth liquid was the best the bottom-shelf had to offer, and beggars can't be choosers when trying to get drunk fast.

her eyebrows knit, eyes locking on the piece of machinery closest to her sights, then raising to mine.

honestly, right now, i wanted to throw the overly-expensive communication piece at the wall and watch it shatter. i looked to her, the phone, and then the can, taking the rest of it back and crushing it like a frat-boy would.

she huffed out a laugh, "you didn't block him?" but, it wasn't so hard to believe and she knew it just as well as i did.

i still loved him, even after the couple of months we've been broken up; it's not because it was on good terms. actually, it was the complete opposite: we were shit to each other and it was best we went our separate ways. we should, in reality, hate each other. it would only be the natural thing for two people in our situation to do — however, i can't help fighting the urge to reply.

her disappointment was apparent, “y/n, are you kidding me. he’s not even here right now but you can’t stop thinking about him! pick any other guy, i beg.”

my senses were colliding like a car-wreck — leaving my better judgment in the leftover to never be found again. i could see the red and blue and hear the sirens howling out to the moon. still, even under my dying breath, his name would roll off it.

“i-i’m tryi —“

“don’t be ridiculous, i know you well.” she said, fishing the phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing out of my hand. she read out the top text, “y/n, come over. i need to apologize. I need y — he’s drunk. he only ever says shit like this when he’s drunk! you forget he was my friend before he ever dated you. and, god, do i regret introducing you to him.”

my heart sank, a nausea creeping up my throat. he was bleeding me dry, i knew it, but he could have it all; my skin, bones, blood and teeth.

“block his number before you do something we’ll both regret!” she handed it back, “you know i only want what’s best for you — you’re you for fuck sake! you could have anyone, and i mean anyone, yet the only person in your head only texts you at two fucking a.m. you deserve better than him, don’t kid yourself.”

tears pricked my eyes because i knew it was true, but the shooting pain only went away when his hands were on my skin. it was better to stay away, to not take the risk. he should’ve been — should be — the one to get away, and sometimes i also wished she’d never introduced me to the devil under a different name.

“okay,” i sniffled, her palm resting against my cheek comfortingly, “i’ll block him.”

“good.” she unlocked her arm from mine, pushing me forward, “now go find someone better! god knows the bar is low!”

i felt the brush of a body against mine as i found myself smack in the middle of the crowd. my head whipped to the sights of a boy, probably around the same age as me, half-lidded eyes and flushed features. he apologized but, honestly, it was my — her — fault, though he didn’t seem to register that it was anything but an accident, probably too drunk to.

it was an envious state, i thought.

i smiled lightly, her words echoing my mind, “its okay. i’m sorry. my name’s y/n.” his face was soft with godly-defined structure: sharp nose, eyes and plush lips that upturned with a smile resembling mine.

“fuma!” he said, trying to shout over the music. however, something about his tone told me he wasn’t loud, exactly the opposite in fact: gentle, and warm. something my boyfriend — ex — had lacked when we were still together once upon a time. “you’re very, uh, beautiful.”

i laughed at his awkwardness, though i had to read his lips to understand. “thank you,” i replied, pulling him down to my height to hear each other better. my lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “you’re very pretty too.”

he visibly shuddered as i pulled away, furthering my slight sense of pride, mostly because i never had an effect over the only person i wanted to.

he choked out, “d-do you want a drink?” and i nodded, grabbing at his empty hand. the friend i had come with gave me an approving smile and shrugged as if to say the cliché, 'he's cute and you only live once.' he froze, obviously a little shocked by our sudden intimacy, however he brushed it away and led us both to a quieter area; weaving through lip-locked and timely-jumping college students.

i found myself pushing up onto the counter top, watching as he grabbed two beers from an already opened case. they were warm, but again, beggars can’t be choosers when trying to get drunk. he cracked it open and handed it in my direction.

his eyes wouldn’t land on mine, but only stared at the lips that were taking the smooth liquid so easily, watching my throat bob with every gulp. he shifted, leaning against the painted-wood-plastic at my side.

after a moment of deafening silence he asked. “do you go to this school?”

“no.” i replied, letting the can rest against my crossed legs, “i’m here with a friend.”

“a boyfriend?”

the words stung, because no matter the truth, i still wanted to say yes. i still wanted to be able to call the person i loved so deeply my boyfriend — to have him pick me up from this stupid frat-party and not have anyone say anything about it. i still wanted him, and i knew exactly why, though i’d never admit it.

i bit my lip and fuma must’ve, even through his clouded state, read the room. “a sensitive subject, i’m sorry.”

“don’t be sorry, i, uh, don’t have a boyfriend.”

“anymore.” he corrected. maybe it was because he was drunk that his words, even slurred, were so truth-filled it stung. “but i can tell you still want him to be.”

“no,” you paused, both knowing it was a lie, “i want to forget about him. he’s not here.”

“he’s not?”

“i don’t give half-a-fuck where he is in actuality.” you swallowed a bit of your pride, as well as some beer, “if he wanted to, he would. right?”

“right.” he replied, taking another swig.

i looked at him, all of him in disbelief. he knew i was a liar, but at the end of the day he didn’t even know me the way my ex could claim. maybe, i thought, that it was the best possible situation for me to be in. actually, it was the best i could make of this fucked up reality.

my voice lowered ever-so-slightly, “do you want to?”

“be your boyfriend?”

“woah, slow down there cowboy. let’s not go that far right now — we both know i’m not over my ex.”

i couldn’t tell if his face flushed from embarrassment or just the copious amount of alcohol running through his blood. “then, do i want to what?” he breathily-laughed out.

“make me forget?”

my reply almost sounded desperate, and i wondered if that resulted in an inclination to say yes. i wondered if that’s why i was pressed against the countertop i once sat criss-crossed on, lips locked with a stranger.

i felt guilty — a little lost — the sense of feeling so good but so wrong leaking through the thought of him; the man whose hands desperately groped whatever he could find, pressing our bodies so close i was convinced we could merge into one.

a moment ago it was true i wanted him to make me forget about my ex, i wanted him just as bad as he did me. but right now, the flashes of someone else strobed behind my eyelids, projected so nicely that i even wanted to forgive him — for the nth time in the years we spent on and off. i wanted to feel the intimacy of love, even if it was fake, but i couldn't when the only person i felt stockholm syndrome for was across the city.

but, a bus ride at this hour would be easy. it would take barely half and hour before i was underneath the man i wanted so pathetically.

my body shivered, but it wasn’t from the way fuma gripped my skin so gently. i felt a coursing guilt rush over me like a bad high. in reality, i knew i shouldn’t have offered, especially when both him and i were under copious amounts of influence; him worse-off than me. i was taking advantage of a good situation, a seemingly good guy, just to get over a bad for 40 minutes.

maybe i was just crazy — not crazily in love — but just plain fucking crazy. crazy for a man who wasn't mine anymore. crazy because i knew i shouldn't want him. crazy because i knew i was just losing a part of me that should've been lost a long time ago. crazy at the thought of being crazy.

"y/n" god, now i could ever swear i was hearing voices — his voice. well, that was until a hand grabbed my bicep, pulling me away from the tall man. "y/n, what the fuck are you doing?"

i didn't even get a chance to swing around fully before i was being pulled from the kitchen and out of the house entirely. the air was frosty, but honestly i couldn't be bothered to even feel cold; too annoyed to think of anything but the man who was still latched to my arm. eventually, i got fed up, after feeling copious amounts of despair fill my chest, pulling my limb from him.

he turned around calmly, despite the red i could see seeping behind his pupils. he tried to grab my hand this time, but i back away before he had the chance.

"don't — don't touch me, k." i crossed my chilled arms over my chest, one foot back and prepared to step again, "what are you doing here?"

"you weren't answering."

i scoffed, "i never answer, k. that's nothing new."

he didn't hesitate, and it was a little shocking, "your location is still on."

"that doesn't give you th-the right to just show up out of the blue!"

and despite being mad at him, he looked so damn cute with a pout on his face. i could tell he was somewhat drunk, a pink tinting his features i used to adore oh-so-much.

"but, you weren't answe —"

you yelled, "why would i answer you, k!" i couldn't understand his infatuation with the fact that i didn't answer his late-night texts, but maybe he was just as lovesick as i felt. "wh-why would i do that after all this time?"

was he just as damaged as i was? did he really still front like he cared, and was i still falling for it over and over again? it's said that to forgive takes strength, but right now i think that holding back is taking more out of me. he had my heart in his hands still, and despite dropping it countless times, he always knew when and where to pick it back up.

i wasn't sure if i loved him, but i'm just as unsure about not being in love with him. he's driving me to brink of insanity. he's gotten everything out of me, and it's taking everything in me to not muster up more.

if i had known that love would've had such a high price tag, would i still have felt the same way towards him? maybe the good could out-weigh this bad, but i was never one to wishful think before meeting his stupid-pretty eyes. i was never one to feel so unsure before having his stupid-hot skin on mine. i was never one to wear my heart on sleeve before he oh-so-gently pulled it out of me.

and maybe he was unsure too. maybe he didn't know why i wouldn't — couldn't — answer his messages. maybe he was one to think so highly of himself that s breaking up was just a suggestion.

did i love him enough to give him a fourth, fifth and sixth chance? yes. i loved him enough to forgive and forget after every little mistake, and that's what's eating at my brain. the hardest thing I've ever had to do was walk away while still loving him. so, why doesn't it feel like it's for the better? why doesn't his memory fade like its supposed to.

"admit that you only came to see if i was with someone else." i sighed, tears blurring over his frame, "admit that it was because you were blinded by jealousy. admit that you still want me, that you can't get over us as easily as i thought. admit that you still lo —"

"i love you, y/n."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

#&team #kpop #kpop requests #kpop imagines #kpop writing #kpop bg #kpop oneshots #kpopidol #&team imagines #&team k #murata fuma #&team x reader #&audition #kpop suggestive #koga yudai #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #fluff #angst #k labels #&team fuma #suggestive

[bluepuppethidinginafilingcabinet]

here we go y’all

this weeks silly little (probably actually quite long) puppet history notes/commentary

this weeks woosh caption: “an echo of a dinosaur roar from the cretaceous period” spooky

hi maya

oh we’re putting ryan in shackles now huh

classic mario kart story tbh

professor getting flashbacks over here

i’m very excited about this topic

i fucking love paper. imagine inventing paper. that’s so cool.

paper is an s tier invention. i’m right.

vietnam seems chill.

wow the professor really said okay leave then

i really want it to be a frog plague

it’s not a frog plague :(

it’s a new dynasty. because history.

evil echoing laugh is back

i thought it was before common era……..

yo this man out here excecuting his sons and grandkid

“would y’all ever kill your own-“ PROFESSOR NO

i love when a wholeass river changes course. multiple times.

the professor snores huh

uhhhh you’re in the theatre fake professor

oh boy a tax increase

ummmm there’s a lot of glitching

the box is suspicious as always

i swear if they put taxes on tea that’d be funny

did i misunderstand the question or did they? who knows

salt and fish were apparently the answers

the horse wife is back. even though she should be dead. and in puppet purgatory.

this is a fun little ad

the professor just standing there like 🧍

i wanna build a watcher kingdom. shame i have no money.

i’ve decided to stan these two sisters. this may not end well for me considering history.

that’s a very you joke to make ryan

ryan wants to be a product of the immaculate conception via shaq apparently

these two are slaying

oh damn that’s a tiger. damn.

it has 3 eyes

an 18 did nothing???? huh

she really just attacked with kale. and lost a hand.

(items falling in background)

oop bye bye head. that’s unfortunate

THEY HUNG HIS BODY FROM THE GATES?????

or maybe they didn’t. welp. who knows.

boooo patriarchy

we’re assuming he’s dead. got it.

i love a war pyramid scheme

if you wouldn’t do war with your friends what’s the point? like are you really friends?

also this lady slays. i love her.

what is the professor on?

claiming immortality apparently

four things she promised. huh. okay my guesses. revenge. salt. gold. and cotton candy. because why not.

damn i want a country wide lazy river

edit: THE PROFESSOR KEEPS IGNORING THE LAZY RIVER MENTIONS

okay if the make out sessions start now. how do you fight the war??

slay okay. revenge. restoring lineage. avenge death of husband. attain goals. uhhh okay. sure.

well if it works it works i suppose

little devil horns on ryan is fun

15 JELLY BEANS EACH???????

ah yeah a swing of the hips wins the troops over. sure ryan.

trung be slaying

IM SORRY THIS LADY OUT HERE GIVING BIRTH AND CONTINUING THE FIGHT?????

ah yes an army of women swinging babies around

women can in fact kill too. so true professor.

no taxes? that’s… a choice…

i too am waiting for the other shoe to drop

boooo i don’t like this

yeahhhhh well that’s unfortunate

they still slayed

oh the bigger entity takes out the smaller huh ryan?

okay so the options are, they die, they die, or they die

oh we don’t know. okay. well. i’m starting to think that we don’t actually know when people die.

kinda baller that they never surrendered

imagine being dragged up to heaven by your ankles. that’d be an experience.

history is in fact petty

the women really be getting things done in this story. as they should.

damn that’s a speech right there

this is such as slay

the tiger is back. very pretty puppet. fluffy.

ryan does have a point when he called it a johnny cash tiger

“and now i’m fucking dead” that’s so awkward for you tiger

he’s very upset about this huh

professor be ignoring the algorithm again

professor you can’t just call people supple

egg professor has eyebrows

this is so odd

so shane. what. is. going. on.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #we are watcher #all hail the watcher #ryan bergara #shane madej #puppet history #puppet history season 5 #the professor

[x-heartofthecards-x]

@numberoneduelist

It’s really sweet that you’d teach me.

Has he ever heard those words before? Has he ever been told that what he’s doing is nice? If so, it would’ve had to have been so rarely and offhandedly that he’s not bothered to file it away anywhere. This one, though, he will end remember for a while.

The promise to try and refrain from burning the place down gets a snicker - and reminds him to check the fire extinguisher under the sink later. It’s been… some time.

Seto flattens his meatball and presses his thumb into the center just enough to leave an indent. He remembers reading about it somewhere - to keep the thing from ballooning, he thinks. He sets it on the empty sheet pan and then repeats the process for a second burger patty. The rest, he’ll set aside for later.

Another laugh. The warning is more for his companion than it is for his cat. She’s smart enough to know that Seto won’t feed her anything but kibble or wet food, but he’s certain that she’ll sniff out Yugi as a bleeding heart.

He pops open the fish grill and sets the burgers down before setting a timer and closing it back up. Then he steps over to the sink to wash his hands again, and looks at his… date… with a little confusion.

“Really?” He isn’t able to stop himself from asking. “King of Games, owner of the best shop in town, and a sense of loyalty strong enough that you’ve risked your life multiple times - and nobody’s interested?”

In the past, Seto has called Yugi a loser more times than he can count, has degraded his friends and his dreams so often he’d be hard-pressed to name all of the occasions he’s done it. And now here he is, on the opposite side of the arena - praising him. The words feel foreign coming out of his mouth, but they’re not untrue. He wouldn’t have invited the man over if he hadn’t actually found him special. Yes, he understands why people would be interested in the Pharaoh. No, he doesn’t get why those same people wouldn’t fall head over heels for Yugi Mutou.

Kindness, consideration, a smart sense of humor, and with an intellect and eye for strategy that rivals - perhaps even surpasses at some points - the greatest minds of this age. All qualities that the executive finds attractive. He’s also quite nice to look at.

When his hands are dry once more, he crosses his arms, eyebrow cocked.

“I’ll gladly be the first.”

Yugi gave a small chuckle, one hand lifting to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck. It was really nice to have compliments dished out to him, especially from someone who had been as hyper-critical of him as Seto Kaiba had always been. But it was hard to not be dismissive of those compliments.

After all, Atem had been the King of Games. It was only attached to his name because he was the body. His game shop was treading water at best. Most months it only just barely got enough to keep the lights on. His sense of loyalty and self-sacrificing nature he could take, but it often came across as just clingy and foolhardy.

But he definitely didn't want to have a personal pity party on his first date ever. No one liked a downer.

Instead he gave the other a soft smile and said, "Yeah, ah. No one has been interested yet. I mean, either that or I have just been super fucking oblivious about it."

He dropped his hand, shoving both in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and added with a shrug, "Which I suppose is possible. Unless it involves card games, I am out of my depth a bit where life is concerned."

It was a very watered down version of his internal dialogue, but the sentiments were much kinder and a much more flattering way to respond to the incredibly handsome man that was looking down at him with that wry look that had his stomach somersaulting.

With a little chuckle he added, "I'm still a bit surprised that you are interested. Pleasantly surprised. Thrilled, actually. But definitely didn't see that coming."

#numberoneduelist #seto kaiba #closed roleplay #roleplay tags: #numberoneduelist4

[poppy-metal]

Demure

Wc: 4k

Pairing: eren jaeger x reader

Cw: car sex, fingering, emphasis on reader being innocent and a virgin. reader is armins little sister. corruption kink

you're 6 years old when you first meet eren jaeger. apparently he'd run off some people that were bullying you big brother, armin. you admire him and mikasa immediately.

you're 8 and he's 11 when you get a scrape on your knee from playing tag. eren runs into your mothers bathroom to fish out the first aid-kit, you know he just doesn't want you to tattle, you never would anyway, but he pulls out a pink band-aid with little ariels all over it and places it gently over the cut. he stays there for a few beats, soothing the skin around the hurt area with his thumbs. his big bright green eyes look up at you, "better?" and that's the first time your heart skips for a boy.

you're 11 and he's 14 when armin starts becoming protective. "he's had like. 5 girlfriends in middle school, who knows what he's gonna be like in high-school"

it intrigue you, for some reason.

you're 13 and he's 16 when he taps furiously on your window at night, wild eyed and wearing a t-shirt and sweats. he falls ungracefully on his ass when you let him in, though he grins at you from the floor. "thanks, squirt"

you wince at the nickname, knowing it solidifies you as someone only platonic to him. armins little sister and nothing more. "what's this all about?"

he gets up and swipes imaginary dust off his sweats, looking around your room. its absurdly girly. he picks up one of your plushies and tosses it up, then catches it, peering over at you and grinning. "i hope you never change," he sighs and flops down onto your pink sheets. "girls my age are fucking psychos"

you creep closer to him, snatching your plush back. "im sure there's something you're leaving out there. im not completely dumb, you know"

he waves his hand, "yeah but you're....i don't know? innocent or whatever. you don't care about shit like boys and drama"

i do care about boys, you think, watching the way his shirt rides up to expose a hint of tan skin. you look away, squeezing your plush to your chest. "im gonna grow up eventually, ren"

he sighs and sits up, looking at you from under his ridiculously cute floppy brown hair. "Just promise me you won't go boy crazy"

you roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he leans in and licks a broad stripe against your cheek with his tongue, grinning "we have cooties"

you swat at him and wipe your cheek, groaning and calling him gross. "i know that. you and armin never let me forget how gross boys are", you side eye him. "what did you even do? really?"

he looks to the side, only now having it in him to look the least bit sheepish, "my girlfriend may have caught me with my hand down historias skirt..."

"EREN JAEGER!!!"

yeah, boys really are gross. but not eren, no he's beautiful and magical and makes you feel all the fluttery things. but he's also a player, a bad boy, dangerous and completely off limits. maybe your crush should have ended there, but of course it didn't.

You're 15 when you go on your first date with a boy. until now you haven’t allowed yourself to even think about men outside of the enigma that is eren jaeger, but that’s a lost cause, a stupid crush you need to let go of. and despite what eren thinks, you’re not that innocent. not in your head anyway. you’re a girl and you have fantasies. 

the guy is nice, armin likes him enough. big and tall and humble, reiner brought you flowers for your first date. the age difference is a little weird, he’s in erens grade, a senior, but you think its harmless. you’re turning 16 soon. the date goes well, you smile and giggle alot, and reiner seems smitten by the end of it. he even goes as far as to kiss your hand when he drops you back off at home, at 8pm sharp, just like he promised. he was kind and sweet, and you liked him, but you wonder what it means that there were no flutters in your belly, not like when you’re around him…

you’re still thinking about that when you open the door, and walk inside. the house is quiet, and you wonder where armin is, and eren. thinking they both must be in armins room, you go to the kitchen to get a glass of water, stopping on your path there when you see eren on the couch. he’s lounging back, hand idly wrapped around a gaming controller as he watches you.

you glance around him. “where’s mimmin?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off you. “annie called”, he leans forward a little, propping his chin in his palm as he observes you quietly for a moment.

you squirm in place, his eyes are too hot. “oh” and you make to start moving again but his voice stops you. 

“so. braun, huh?” his tone is hard to discern, the words coming out cool and detached, but his eyes are that intense green. 

“yeah” you say, shifting on your feet. “he was nice. kissed my hand and everything”

“sounds like a dream” and that is definitely said sarcastically. you bristle but eren is already turning away from you, facing the TV. “didn’t think he was your type though” 

because erens been your type since forever, you guess he’s right. reiner couldn’t be more different in both personality and looks, but maybe that’s a good thing. “maybe he can be” you say softly, looking at your feet. you dont see erens eyebrows jump, or his lips twist disdainfully. 

“If you wanna settle for missionary the rest of your life, then sure, go ahead” he sounds a little miffed and that confuses you. makes you look up. you don’t even know reiner that well, but you feel the need to defend him from erens usual snarky jabs. 

“not every guy that doesn’t live on Xbox and fuck half the school is a bland guy” you huff. you feel a little guilty for calling him out but he started it. eren hated preps, that was obvious, but its not like he was a model person either, if his long track record of promiscuity was anything to go by. reiner wasnt boring he just…..wasn’t eren. but that wasn’t a flaw. It shouldn’t be. 

“you been keeping tabs on me, princess?” eren asks wryly, smirking now. you just glare at him, quirking a brow and daring him to prove you wrong, to say he’s better. 

he doesn’t. he just looks at you, sets his controller down and does that tick he’d developed since he was young of jiggling his knee, tapping his finger on it. “don’t go on more dates with him” 

you squint your eyes, “and why not?”

“because i said so” 

“you’re not my boss” 

“because..” he scratches the stubble on his jaw, gaze looking far off as he stares at his bouncing leg. “guys shouldn't touch you” 

your mouth pops open. you get that, right now, you’re too young for stuff like sex, but being touched? everyone your age had boyfriends, why should you be any different?

It feels a bit like deja vu when you tell him, “m’not staying innocent forever. dating and s-sex are apart of life. you do it, why shouldn’t i?” 

you didn’t really get his whole overprotective bit, armin, who was your brother, wasn’t even this bad. he’d seen happy almost, when you told him about your date with reiner, even, so you really don’t see where eren is coming from. 

erens lip curls in a smirk and he points a finger at you. “that’s why” he says. “you can’t even say the word sex without stuttering. what’ll you do when you see a cock for the first time?” 

your skin heats, hating that he’s right. “I’ll grow out of it” you promise him. 

he huffs a laugh. “sure thing, dork” but then his face gets serious. “you don’t need to change though. sex is lame, i promise.” 

“you seem to have alot of it, so there must be something good about it” 

“for me, yeah” he grins. “but im selfish. most men are, and you deserve better than some highschool tumble with a guy who looks like he can’t find the clit to save his life” his eyes weigh you down. “just keep bein’ you. If i come back from college and hear that you’re the towns tramp stamp, m’ not gonna be happy” 

and that’s that. 

you’re 16 when eren leaves for college. you get to 18 without ever being touched. 

you’re 18 and you wish you hadn’t begged armin to let you come to this stupid bomfire party. it’s just the first time he’s been home in the 2 years since he’d left for college, and you know that means eren is back too, though you have yet to see him. he’s supposed to be at the party though.

you wonder if he’ll react to having seen you after not for awhile, if he’ll look at you different now that you’re grown. you’re wearing a simple pleated white skirt and a pink top, the picture of innocence you’ve always been, never changing. 

being around so many people makes you uncomfortable, you want to cling to armins side, but you don’t want to be annoying so you tell him its okay to leave you. your eyes scan the mass of people on the crowded beach as you nervously hold your solo cup to your chest. 

your eyes stop their nervous skittering when they land on someone familiar. 

college eren is completely different and yet wholly the same since you’d last seen him. he’s wearing a red bomber jacket, over a black t-shirt and skinny jeans, scuffed converse kicking in the sand as he shifts from one foot to the other. you peep tan skin, a hint of a tattoo peeking on his neck and….and black hair. he’d dyed his hair, and, is that jewelry on his ear? rings on his hand?

he’s smiling easily with a pretty blonde and...and reiner. talking to them like old friends as he tilts his head back and laughs, taking a swig from his cup. he’s still chuckling and shaking his head when his eyes flick distractedly over, rove over you and then stop. even from all the way where you are the green of his eyes pins you in place. the warm glow of the bonfire dances across his features, and you see the bastard has a lip ring as well. he takes his time cataloging you and you do him, before his lips tilt, he hands off his drink and he makes his way over to you. 

your whole body is tense with nerves as he gets closer and closer.

when he’s standing in front of you, the smell of his cologne wafts over you. his smile is small and genuine. “hey, pip” 

pip as in short for pipsqueak. you have to fight the urge to grin at him, your cheeks warming pleasantly, even though you groan out loud. “m’ not little anymore” 

“I can see that” eren eyes rake over you, linger on your bare legs before dragging slowly back up. his eyes feel like a caress and when they meet yours again, you’re already tingly. you’ve never been touched sexually, and just one look from eren has you wet between the legs like nothing. “still dress like you wanna be an extra in a Bratz commercial” 

the tension disputes as you swat his arm. “shut up!! Its a fashion choice, not like you’d know. dressed like a wannabe rockstar” 

“aw, c’mon. you’d be my groupie right?” 

you roll your eyes. “you wish, jaeger”

“mm” he hums softly. “s’cute though. always has been” 

before you can even register the compliment, he’s leaning forward to peek into your cup, swiping it easily from you. “underage drinking, are we? left you for a couple years and you go rebel barbie on me” 

you squawk as he chugs all of your drink back in one gulp, crushing the cup in his fist and tossing it behind him. “ren! I wasn’t even drinking it. It was..” you wave your hand around. “for the aesthetic”

“uh huh” he drones, but then he jerks his chin. “i’ll get you another one to stand around and look pretty with then. C’mon”

cute, pretty. the compliments are gonna make your heart fly out of your chest if he doesn’t let up. you follow him as he leads you to a keg, one that’s a little ways away from the bustle of the party, close to the parking lot where you came in. 

you shyly say ‘thank you’ when he fills you a cup and hands it to you, proceeding to lean back against a car as he goes back to observing you.

to distract yourself you mumble, “you can’t just lean on a strangers car for the sake of being cool” 

the grin is back. “you think im cool?” when you glare at him he rolls his eyes and slaps the hood of the car. “she’s mine, pip. you can untwist your panties” 

you blink at him, “since when did you get a new car? and when did you dye your hair?” 

he looks at you curiously, drumming his fingers. “do you not, like. follow me on instagram?”

you look away, kicking your feet in the sand. hesitantly you admit, “didn’t wanna miss you, so i didn’t look” 

he doesn’t say anything to that. the silence stretches between you, making you nervous. should you not have said that? you guessed it was weird, after all, but it was true. If you’d looked at how erens life was progressing without you there to see it, you’d have cried and been a total lovesick girl about it. 

he finally breaks the silence. “do you have a boyfriend?” 

you look back at him. “uh...no? do you?”

the smirk you wanted ghosts over his lips again, and your eyes are drawn to his lip ring when he tugs it between his teeth. “nah, you know me. unattainable” 

“yeah, i know” you say under your breath, thinking of how eren jaeger had been an unattainable fantasy for you for years. 

“so no current boyfriend or…?” 

“no boyfriends...ever” its embarrassing to admit, but less humiliating than admitting that the reason that was is because you’re in love with your brothers best friend, the very man standing before you now. 

“that’s kinda tragic, pip” eren hops up on the hood of his car and fishes a cigarette out of his pocket. he waves a hand at you, “you’re rockin’ a bod like that and no one’s bagged you? thought you’d be beating down options with a bat by now” 

you watch the smoke that plumes in the air, the way it coils and wisps, and really look at eren. he’s tragically beautiful. his no black hair is boyishly messy, tangled around his head in a dark halo. his face is sharp and tan, his eyes striking and making you feel like you’re sinking into the sand beneath your feet.

you’ve wanted him for so long, it makes you ache. years and years of pushing away men and declining confessions for this man in front of you. you’d never expected anything from him, but you couldn’t move past the fantasy in your head. couldn’t imagine giving any of your firsts to anyone but eren. 

“you told me to stay innocent” its out before you can stop the words, they just fumble out, spilling from your lips and into the air like the smoke.

eren stills, pauses from where he’d been about to take another drag. his expression is unreadable. he flicks the ashes from the cig on the sand, stumps it out under his foot as he hops down. the wind ruffles his dark hair as he just looks and looks and looks at you. 

“yeah?” and oh, jesus, if the rough gravel in his voice doesn’t make your cunt warm immediately. “and you listened?” 

you squeeze your thighs together, an action that draws erens gaze between your legs. to late to back down now, you think, and wet your lips. “y-yeah. I did” 

“you didn’t let any boys touch you while i was gone?” eren continues and he draws closer, creeping towards you.

you shake your head, silent as he comes in front of you. he reaches up to delicately push a strand of hair behind you ear with one of his ring fingers. he keeps it tucked behind your ear as he towers over you, staring you down. “you’re still my innocent little girl, huh?” 

you wonder if this is how it feels to be seduced, seduced by eren jaeger no less. his eyes are warm, and they make you feel warm from where the rest on your eyes, and then, your lips. they part under his gaze, on instinct. “I am, ren. always have been” 

his eyes darken, and the finger behind your ear becomes his whole hand sliding to cup the back of your head, slowly fisitng your hair in it. “shit” he tilts your head up. “you can’t say things like that, baby”

baby, baby, baby. your head swims. you’re on autopilot now, speaking without thinking and you think that’s good because if you were thinking clearly you wouldn't have the courage. “i’ve always been your good girl. no one elses” 

you have one second to hear his exhale before his lips are crashing against yours, and oh. oh, he’s good. you feel the metal of his lip ring against your bottom lip as he slides his tongue in your mouth, eating you up.

“god, you’re sweet” he nips your lip. “knew you would be”

you pant into his mouth, your hands curling on his chest, “y-you’ve thought about me?”

“‘course i did, im not blind” he pulls away. “I just really like my dick and didn’t want it chopped off. armin is scary” 

you know he can be when he wants to be, knows if he saw eren ravishing his little sister against his car right now, body parts would be strewn about. and that’s just from armins verbal warfare.

you look at eren demurely from under your lashes, “i don’t want anything to happen to your…” you trail off at the end.

erens eyebrows climb up his forehead, he presses close to you, tugs you to him. “my…” he prods, eyes glinting with mischief. 

you look away, pouting. “know i can’t say it” you mumble, hating that even now, saying vulgar words is embarrassing for you.

erens chest shakes with a laugh. “you just sucked my tongue down your throat, pip, and you can’t talk about my cock? you’re precious, c’mere.” he starts walking backwards, towards his car. “we gotta be sneaky about it but-” he dips down to kiss you again, once, twice. “i really wanna touch you” 

you gulp, and nod, let him pull you to his car and open the backseat for you, climbing in after you. he shuts and locks it behind him and then he’s facing you, eren jaeger giving you his full attention. looking at you like he wants you, like he’s seeing you, like he wants to do alot of bad things to you.

you place a shaking hand on his shoulder. “im- i dont know what to do..”

you want to impress him, but pretending you’re good at something you’re not won’t do that. eren doesn’t like liars anyway. 

he scoots close to you, pulling you halfway onto his lap until you’re sitting comfortably against him. you bite your lip when you feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your ass under your skirt. one of his hands settles on your bare thigh, scooting it up just barely.

“you ever watch porn, sweetheart?” erens breath puffs against your ear and you squirm on top of him. 

you push down your own embarrassment, resigning yourself to be a big girl and be honest. “s-sometimes” 

“yeah?” god, why does just that word turn you on so much? “tell me what kind of stuff you watch when you touch your little pussy” 

his vulgar words go straight to your cunt, at the same time his hand slides up your thighs and slips under your skirt. you close your eyes when you feel the tip of his finger trace over the band of your panties. “they’re always a couple..” you gasp when his hand dips inside, palm cupping over your pussy. “a-and the guy has dark hair..”

“Imagining anyone in particular?” eren teases, but you hear his breath catch at the same time yours does when he sinks one long finger inside. the folds around your slit part seamlessly around the intrusion, sucking his finger in like your pussy wants it there. “so wet, baby. keep talking for me?”

ever the good girl, you push through the tingles and the heat spreading down your legs, the slick sound of his finger fucking in and out of you filling the silent car as you struggle to find words. “s-shes always inexperienced. Its her first time and...and hes gentle” you moan a little when erens thumb comes to swirl around your clit, hips lips finding your neck. he’s teasing another finger at your tight entrance when you swallow another groan and try to keep talking like he’d asked. “he’s gentle but he takes. t-takes what he wants”

“mm” eren hums, tongue sliding against your skin. you gasp when the tip of his ring finger edges in beside the other one, stretching your tight passage around his digits in thorough little twists of his fingers. “that’s real good, baby. you like the sound of that, huh?” 

eren hooks his chin over your shoulder, bunches your skirt around your waist so he can see where your little pussy is clenching and squeezing around him, clit engorged and throbbing for attention. when you don’t answer, he continues, using the slick dripping down your slit, gathering it and then pushing back into you. “I bet” he says, low, husky. “In those videos, he eats her out real nice, yeah? makes sure her little virgin cunt is wet enough to take his cock”

“y-yeah” you pant, holding his wrist but not pulling it away, pushing him more towards you. you’re starting to grind down against the pleasure, walls rhythmically fluttering around his fingers, fucking yourself on them without even knowing it. he curls them, and your head thumps back against his shoulder as you cry out. 

“i’ll give that to you” eren promises, pumping his fingers faster, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits over your blouse, giving it a squeeze. “gonna take you home after you cream around my fingers and lay you out on your bed” he kisses your cheek, holding you firm against him when you start to twitch and writhe. “lick this little flower open. wanna feel your thighs squeeze my face when i drink the cum from your pussy, get you all loose and wet and then i wanna feel you drip down my dick when i slide it inside”

“oh god, ren!” you jerk in his hold as you feel your orgasm crest over you, gushing down his palm, as you ride his hand, milking it as tingles shoot across your whole body. A milky, creamy film rests around his knuckles when he slides his fingers out of your weeping cunt, still pulsating and twitching from the come down. 

he rubs the excess slick around your folds and clit, rubbing it in. you whimper and he chuckles and kisses your cheek. 

you sag against him, fucked out. eren brushes some hair from your forehead and kisses it. “wannabe punk pounds sweet virgin pussy into her bed” 

you look at him, confused and dazed “huh?”

eren grins at you. “s’ gonna be the name of our porno” 

#poppy speaks #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #i hate this kinda but oh well #woof #eren jaeger imagine

[emwritesstuff]

housesitting | bucky barnes x reader

summary: Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything.

You can hardly see how Bucky Barnes stumbling into his apartment at 3 am with multiple wounds is one of them. But I guess it might be?

notes: this is my attempt at a more ~comedy centered one-shot, with some making out in the middle because uh, who doesn’t like that? In other news, reader is Chaotic. Canon mcu (Infinity War/Endgame) is non-existent in this.  (word count: 3K)

warnings: language, mentions of blood, gunshot wounds, general patching up shenanigans, some making out/grinding but not quite third base

[PART 2: breaking and entering]

Housesitting for Steve Rogers has many perks. The man has the comfiest bed you’ve ever slept in; his coffee machine is top tier; and he also pays for every single streaming service you could think of, because he doesn’t wanna miss anything. An old popsicle thing, you assume.

It’s peaceful, too. The neighborhood is nice and quiet, the other tenants are either extremely polite or too scared of Captain America to make much noise. You’ve had very nice stay-cations at his place, where you were free to choose to binge The Office while eating an entire pizza in the spam of 2 episodes or taking advantage of the quiet to write your grad-school thesis.

So when a loud BANG almost makes you drop your coffee mug on the floor, your spidey senses are immediately on alert. You don’t care how many times Peter insisted that it wasn’t a thing, your arm hairs stood up and your heart started hammering on your chest all the same.

You contemplate squeezing under the bed, turning off the show that was long abandoned and hiding until whatever it is goes away, but before you can do any of that, a string of sharp cursing and soft thumps and thuds snaps you out of your fear.

Maybe it’s a burglar. You could take a clumsy burglar, easy.

Now feeling like Tony had just welcomed you into the Avengers, you hop off Steve’s bed and let your baby Yoda socked feet carry you stealthily into the living room, holding a table lamp as if it was a baseball bat.

Everything is quiet, with no signs of forced entry at the door (you remember someone on Law and Order using those words), and in the dark you don’t notice the bloody trail coming from the kitchen.

You’re imagining things, then. When was the last time you slept? You don’t even feel tired, but you know sleep deprivation always gets you all kinds of crazy.

It happens the second your arm falls to your side and your posture shows the slight of relaxation. A strong arm around your neck and a hand against your mouth to muffle the screaming.

In the quiet of Steve’s apartment building, there is only you shrieking and howling and thrashing against the hold of a stranger.

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” You still.

And then you bite into the hand that is muting you, immediately regretting it when your teeth sink into something hard. Metal? Concrete? Ouch. You resume your resistance, determined, and is shoved away.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Who the fuck are you.” His voice is gruff and dulled over the mask he is wearing, and as you’re taking this giant of a man in, you notice it.

The metal arm. The strapped leather jacket. The tortured blue eyes.

Winter Soldier.

The intruder is James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve’s best friend. That’s who the fuck it is.

“I’m Steve’s house sitter! I even have a key.” You say, with arms in front of you to signal no harm but inching closer to the table lamp with every step.

“House…sitter? Where’s Steve?”

“Who knows. Maybe a mission. He texts me, I come over.” You shrug, and put a chair back to where it was before it got knocked over.

“I don’t believe you. Where is Steve?”

“Listen, I don’t know, okay? I guess he’s just out for a few days. I don’t ask. He just lets me stay in here so I can water the plants and feed the Avengers.”

“The– the what?”

“The Avengers! The fish, see.” You point to the aquarium, where a handful of colorful fish swam peacefully in.

Peace. So much for your peace, because now what you have is a surly super soldier eyeing the fish tank like it was the most loathsome thing in the entire universe, except maybe for you.

“I hate this thing. Naming them makes it even worse.” He trudges back to the kitchen, stomping on the floor like he was on a parade.

So much for the other people’s peace, too.

“Hey! Sir. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s 3 in the fucking morning?” You sass, putting your hands on your hips when he retorts that yeah, he does know. “What are you even doing here?”

“Back from a mission.” He grumbles without looking at you, as if you’re the one who stumbled into his place in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t your place, but still.

“Don’t you have a house?” There’s a part of you that knows pushing the Winter Soldier’s buttons is asking for trouble, but your tired and confused brain decides to ignore it.

“You interrogating me? I need a motherfucking– ” He wheezes and nearly doubles over, holding on the door frame between the living room and the kitchen. You finally spot the blood, both on the tiles and seeping out of the Soldier’s jacket and pants.

He’s hurt. Shit.

“– first aid kit.”

“You need a motherfucking hospital!” You shrill, panic chilling your bones. You don’t do blood. Or any kind of wound, for that matter.

The man ignores you, opening up cabinets hastily. You huff, and walk past him to get to the actual home of the first aid kit. Steve’s oldest, closest friend and can’t even find a box with pharmaceutical supplies in his kitchen. You slam it on the counter next to him.

“You’re welcome.”

“Zip it.”

Just a look from him is enough to render you speechless, and not in the good, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of way. You’re positive that one swat of that metal arm and you’ll be flying out of the window.

He begins by removing his mask, revealing a handsome face underneath, and you try your best to focus on how dark and menacing it looked while locked in that scowl of his. Then, he unbuckles his jacket and discards it on the floor, it coming to a stop next to your feet.

Oh man, he’s naked. Well, not really, just the incredibly toned, strong and muscular top half of him, but you stare wide-eyed as if he was.

“See somethin’ you like, doll?” He quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you turn your back to him, mostly to hide your own embarrassment.

“No.” You cross your arms resolutely, because you definitely don’t think he’s attractive. He is a rude, grumpy, private-property-invader-bastard. Doll. Yuck.

You hear a rumble come out of his chest. Is he laughing? Shithead. Other noises follow, wheezes, small grunts and the tinkle of metal on the marble counter.

A particular pained grunt makes you turn, and you see Barnes with his body twisted, trying to reach a bloody hole on his back. It would be funny if he wasn’t trying to poke a gunshot.

“Do you need… help?” You ask, against your own will, only to be met with his icy gaze.

“No.”

“Come on, you can’t even reach that.”

Another glare is shot your way, and you quirk your brow up. He did need the help, you think, because aside from the muscles and the sweat making him glisten like a delicious – wait what – glazed donut, the man looked like hell.

“…fine.” He slides a pair of surgical prongs, something you identify in your head as oversized tweezers, and you instantly regret your offer. Pressing an iodine-soaked cotton ball to a wound, sure. But not this.

He turns his back to you without a word, supporting himself on the marble. You think that he’s about to make a dent on the goddamn stone if he keeps holding onto it that hard.

“Ah, fuck. Shit. Fuck. Ugh, it’s so gross. Fuck.”

It’s the most horrifying thing you’ve ever done, but you try your best to get to the bullet quickly, so very thankful that Barnes holds himself perfectly still for you. “Got it!”

He lets out a long breath when you toss the prongs and the bullet on the counter with the rest and resumes his cleanup. So, he’s not even going to say thanks. Great.

You try not to think about how you still want to make conversation while you hurriedly scrub the blood from your hands, because aside from the hostility and him jumping on you as a meet-cute, the guy peeks your interest.

Steve has said Barnes is nice, too, and you believed Steve, because he’s basically incapable of lying. Or maybe because he’s pretty. Both, for sure.

With your hands now clean, you turn to him, mouth open with some kind of conversation starter that is immediately forgotten.

Oh man, he’s naked. For real this time.

Bucky Barnes has stepped out of his pants while you were overthinking by the sink, now standing in only a pair of black boxers. It’s like he feels you staring at his butt, because he turns to you with raised eyebrows.

“Last one’s on my thigh. I got it.” He’s holding the prongs this time, and you’re glad you don’t have to do anything, because your face next to that groin might make you go into spontaneous combustion.

“Yeah.”

He hums. You hope all of this is a fever dream.

“Isn’t there a med bay at–”

“Don’t like people prodding and pokin’ at me.” His comment makes you grimace. He’s the Winter Soldier, damn it. You know the stories, everyone does. Of course he doesn’t like being prodded.

He looks at you funny, probably because you went dead quiet. You don’t want him to think you feel pity, because you don’t, but god don’t you feel bad for poking him now, even if verbally.

“I’m gonna – grab one of Steve’s – uh. Dude you need to put some clothes on. Jesus.”

He laughs at you again, which you’re thankful for because anything is better than the awkwardness of the other subject. You pick up a black pair of sweatpants that was so deep in one of Steve’s drawers that you know he’d have to have bought it and never had the guts to put it on. This one would do just fine.

If there is one thing Steve Rogers isn’t, is a black sweats guy.

“Here.” You deposit the sweats and a white tee on the counter, one of the millions that you found inside the closet. Barnes was patching himself up now, bandages wrapped everywhere on his body.

Got his ass kicked good. You shudder when you imagine the state of the other guy.

He eyes the clothes, and saying nothing, returns to his task. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me.”

“Yeah, but I did anyways! ‘Cause I’m stupid, I guess.” You almost hurl a dirty plate at him when he scoffs, muttering a yeah, guess you are. “God, why are you so grumpy?”

“Well you try being shot 5 times and see how cheerful you are after.”

“You got shot 5 times?!”

Looking at you from between his brows, the Soldier nods to the five mangled bullets sitting on the counter. You think about how you’ve made yourself a sandwich just hours earlier on the exact same spot. You want to puke.

Taking time to look around yourself, you can finally grasp the state of Steve’s ever-so-pristine kitchen, now a mess of dirty clothes, blood and your own few dishes from the night before. You don’t even think about what you’re doing as you move, gathering every single cleaning supply you can find, and start working on the cleanup.

You’re struggling, because obviously you’ve never done this before. Anyone can tell, from your soft abdomen and your severe lack of muscle, that you’re not an Avenger. Sure, you work with them, but you’re usually neck deep into advanced tech, not in the gym by any means. Also, you don’t do blood.

That means you have to think about something else, anything else, while you’re manically cleaning the floor. One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, the Winter Soldier’s tight ass, four sheep, get it together goddamnit –

“Leave it. I’ll clean.”

You huff, he huffs back, and you look up at him.

“You got shot five times. Go sit down or something before you blow your back too, grandpa.” You call him that to assure yourself that he is old, like actually super old, and thirsting over him is weird. Even weirder when he’s all bandaged and bleeding. And still shirtless. Shit.

He mumbles something that you ignore, and stomps off. You think you actually did a pretty decent job with the cleaning, considering.

You need coffee. Definitely an entire bottle of vodka too, but there was no alcohol in this god’s good home, so you settle for the brew that you made earlier. You pour a mug for Barnes too, because you’re nice like that, and amble into the living room to find him slumped on a chair.

“Coffee?” You start, settling his mug on the table next to him.

“It’s almost 5 a.m.”

“Guess I’m up early for once. Maybe I should go for a run.”

He snorts, and opens one eye to inspect you from where he is. He reaches out for the coffee, using his metal hand, and you consider the two ways this could go.

He’d shatter the mug right then and there. Or, he’d throw it at you. Your jaw goes slack at what he actually does, sirens blaring loudly in your head. Truly astonishing, the most bewildering turn of events.

He drinks from it.

“Thanks. Quit staring at me.”

“Wow, Mr. Winter knows the magic words. Mr. Barnes. Sergeant?” You’re thinking aloud, abandoning any trace of sanity you’ve been holding. You even sit on the couch next to his armchair.

“It’s Bucky,”

Again, absolutely bewildering. You must be going insane.

“– and you talk too much.” He finishes, with an end-of-story tone, and returns to his rest. At least that felt like normality.

“Bucky. Bucky.” You roll the name on your tongue, feeling a weird buzz start to take over you. It grows stronger when you notice he’s looking at you, one brow quirked as if you lost your marbles. “You know, Bucky, this is definitely not how I saw my night going. Home invasion, playing surgeon – not my usual kind of fun.”

You get up, maybe because you decide that you – and Bucky – need a blanket, or maybe because you need a distraction from his chest going up and down like it’s got a business with making you want to touch it.

You’re not a slut, but who knows? Jim Halper would get it.

“You’re that kid, aren’t you? Stark’s assistant.” Bucky’s voice, low and husky, makes you jump. You look at him, your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

It’s surprising that he knows you, considering. He’s – well, he’s basically a celebrity, if ex-assassins could be considered that. You’re only Tony’s techie, and you and Bucky have never actually met, not even in the few parties you had attended to stop your boss from nagging you that you had to actually go out and have some fun sometimes, because you’re still young and cute and you need to enjoy yourself before you get saggy and bitter.

Jokes on him, you were born bitter.

“I’m no kid.”

“Nice socks.”

You wiggle your toes and it makes the ears of one of the baby Yodas move.

“Still not a kid! If you wanna be sad and wear your sad, plain socks, Bucky, that’s entirely your choice.” You said, pointing your index at him, making circles in the air with it to really get your point across.

Bucky smirks, and you go up to him with the two blankets on your arms. He’s blocking the door with that bulky body of his, and you raise your eyebrows quizzically.

“I’ll have you know – meeting Steve’s annoying, mouthy, pretty house sitter is not how I saw my night going either.” Bucky puts a doubtful tone on house sitter, as if he still doesn’t get exactly what it means.

You blink. You’re positive you heard it wrong. Is he… is this flirting?

“You think I’m pretty?”

“I called you annoying and mouthy too.”

“Yeah, I mean I know that much about me.” You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “The pretty part is new though.”

Bucky still hasn’t moved from the doorframe, and you find yourself staring up at him. He is inches away now, pupils blown wide in the darkness, and you can see a ring of steely blue around them. He licks his lips, and you’re drawn in.

The maelstrom in his eyes sends you spinning.

“I think someone should say you’re not see through, much less–”

Bucky shuts you up by pressing his lips onto yours, a slow, exploratory kiss, the tenderest he’s been all night. His metal hand rests on your lower back, making you shiver at the cool touch.

You’re all panting and eagerness when you cup his face with both hands and press your body against his. You need to deepen this kiss. You haven’t drooled over Bucky Barnes all night to keep things lovey-dovey.

He responds in earnest, pulling you closer. The flesh hand on the back of your neck is a stark contrast against the chill of the other. You and Bucky stumble from the corridor and back to the living room, knocking over a few of Steve’s decorations in the process.

“I don’t feel as bad for this one.” You mumble against his lips, stopping to look at a particular framed picture of Captain America in uniform, surrounded by every single counterfeit Cap in Times Square.

“S’ one of his favorites.”

You nod, you’re aware. Steve thinks it’s the most hilarious thing ever.

Bucky’s breath tickles the hairs on your neck when he continues.

“I hate it.”

“Yeah.”

You capture his lips again, and you two resume your chaotic redecorating. You’re thankful for Bucky’s strong arms keeping you from falling over, because at this point you’re not sure if your legs work anymore.

He takes you with him when he drops down on the same armchair from earlier, and the dizzy spell you find yourself in is broken when you hear him groan.

Right. He’s battered up and stuff.

“Shit, Bucky, I’m sorry–”

“No.” He pulls you close again, and guides your body to straddle one of his thighs. “Stay right here, doll.”

Doll. God-fucking-damnit.

His hand moves under the elastic band of your pants, oh my god you’re making out with Bucky-Hot-Piece-Of-Ass-Barnes in your wiener dog pajama bottoms, and finds the hem of your underwear. He pulls on it, and you yelp when he lets it snap against your side.

He laughs, and you vibrate along with his chest.

You find yourself grinding on his leg, sucking on his bottom lip, raking your nails along his shoulders, doing anything, everything for more, trying to burn the taste and the feel of him on your memory. He moves on to kiss your neck and you sigh, tugging on his hair and making sure you’re holding on for dear life.

Your eyes flutter open, enough to see the fish Avengers in their tank.

The Avengers.

Steve Rogers is an Avenger. So is Bucky, technically.

You’re making out with Bucky. One of his hands is on your boob.

This is Steve’s apartment.

You manage to sober you up enough, despite Bucky’s constant attacks of open mouth kisses and bites on your neck.

“I don’t think Steve would – if we–” You lift your head begrudgingly to look at him. “You know, on his armchair.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced, but his hand moved up from your butt to your waist again.

Steve Rogers was probably miles away right now and still cockblocking you.

Even worse, his furniture was cockblocking you.

Stupid star-spangled IKEA shopper.

And his hot best friend. Who’s currently smiling at you in a such a way that makes you almost abandon all comradery towards Rogers and the sanctity of his place.

You debate getting up, but resign yourself to burying your nose in the crook of Bucky’s neck and just staying there, because honestly, when are you going to have the chance to do this again. Never, that’s when.

Also, he’s surprisingly comfortable for someone with a metal arm and such a jacked-up body.

“You’re sleepy.”

“No, I’m like, super awake.”

It’s a lie, because now that the sparks have flown and the rush of blood in your ears gave way to the quietness of the early morning, you feel yourself drifting, on and off, surprising yourself when you come to once and find that Bucky is still there, warm under you.

“Sleep, doll. I need it too.”

You shift, ready to let his rhythmic breathing lull you to sleep. The last 75 sleepless hours catch up with you.

“Bucky? If you want to break into someone’s house again sometime – I have a first aid kit too. Just sayin’.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x y/n #avengers x reader #emwrites

[helpimhyperfixating]

Merman Jotaro living in Y/N's house. He stays in either the tub or in the backyard pool, or in an inflatable kiddie pool in the living room where's he's mesmerized by the TV

Stay - Mer! Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 3589

Never in a million years did you expect your life to take a turn like this. You met and befriended a Merman a few months ago. He demanded that you return to him regularly - which you did. All in all, it was already crazy to think about. But then fall came and going to the beach was starting to get colder and colder. The merman - Jotaro - he didn’t seem fazed by the chill, you however, didn’t much like the cold water and breeze that accompanied visiting your local sea shark.

So, you explained that it was getting a bit cold for you to come this often and stay so long, saying you would come a little less but when spring and summer came around, you would gladly come every other day maybe even every day again.

Little did you know, a certain merman was not happy with that.

So here you now stood, in your garage, with a fucking massive Mer in the back of your pickup truck.

“Jotaro what the fuck!?” You nearly screamed when you saw him casually sitting in the back.

“Don’t be noisy.” Jotaro snarled back and you slapped his tail that was within your reach.

“I’ll be as noisy as I want! What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Good grief, isn’t it obvious?” He questioned and you splayed your arms out in disbelief, clearly stating that- no it wasn’t!

This ticked him off a little cause, were you really that dumb? Could you not see Jotaro had been trying to court you for weeks? And then you had the gal to say you were going to leave him and then get mad when he followed?! The fucking nerve.

When you didn’t get an answer and only had a silent death stare directed at you (as if that was supposed to explain things) you sighed loudly.

“Okay. Guess this is a thing now. You’re looking dry, so we need to get you in some water, come on.” Walking over to the back of your pick up, you unhooked the latches and opened the back, allowing for a flat surface for Jotaro to slip off.

After getting off with a loud smack, Jotaro started tiger crawling into your house. Looking around curiously as to all the new things he was seeing. So this is where you lived whenever you went away from him?

“C’mon keep going, you have to get up the stairs.” You spoke from behind him and he looked back at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Stairs?”

“Yeah. That, right there.” You pointed at the staircase leading to your second floor that sat to the right. “I’ve got to get you into the bath, mister.”

“Bath? You said you had a pool.” Jotaro spoke in confusion but you sighed.

“Did you really figure out that you could- oh my god.” You dragged a hand over your face and muttered to yourself ‘smart fucking fish’ before clearing your throat. “Any other day, yes. Today? No. It’s the last good and sunny day today so people are outside. It’s been forecasted to rain and get colder soon so people are outside en masse to enjoy the last bit of sun and I don’t want them to see you.”

“Of course.” Jotaro grumbled, a faint annoyed growl leaving him as he rested his chin on his arms. He simply sat like that for a few seconds, looking around before he remarked, “Your floor is dirty.”

At that you made an offended noise. “Excuse me, I clean my floors very well, thank you very much. I just didn’t expect a giant fucking merman to act as a duster and health inspection in one today.”

At that he huffed out a chuckle that made you crack a bit as well before you twice lightly slapped his tail, to both get his attention and urge him to go. “You’re really looking dry, let’s get you up those stairs.”

Easier said than done.

Jotaro was about a third of the way up the stairs now, but crawling up when you have a massive and heavy tail behind yourself that you cannot use to help yourself, is quite difficult.

Each move of his arm was met with an annoyed or angry grumble about having to do this. Why couldn’t your neighbours just be indoors then? Why did he have to do all bloody this? (Not once did the thought of going back to the sea cross his mind though.) as he was yet again lifting his arm to place it on the next step higher, his eyes suddenly widened in shock when he felt two hands be put on his tail. With a light pink blush on his face he looked backwards, seeing you with closed eyes and straining to lift his tail to try and help him.

“Jesus, why is this so heavy.” You spoke out through grunts, still barely managing to lift it.

“It’s twice your size, why do you think?” Jotaro answered with his usual gruff tone, but the redness of his cheeks flared out all the way to his ears when you wrapped your arms around it, pressing your chest to the back of it as you tried to lift it once more. “I-I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” Jotaro cleared his throat before turning his head forward again to get the image of you holding his tail out of his head.

Once he found himself calmed down enough, he continued his slow trek upwards.

- - - -

It took a bit, but Jotaro was in your tub. And by god did he not fit. Even with folding his tail, half of it was still hanging out.

“I- we’ll work on it.” You sighed before leaning over him, turning the knob that regulated heat all the way down to about 18°C to 19°C since you did a quick search as to what the ocean temperature was like during this time of year.

With that set, you turned on the tap. The water splashed onto his tail and Jotaro jolted for a second, curiously looking down at how the water flowed out afterwards.

Going to quickly grab a large measuring cup from the sink in your kitchen downstairs, you returned to your bathroom to sit beside the tub and briefly held it under the running water until it was filled, turning and pouring it further down his tail. A small, barely noticeable sigh of relief left Jotaro when you did that and you smiled a bit to yourself before starting to repeat the motion.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” You spoke between pouring cups, also pouring it over the part of his tail that was hanging out. You had put a towel on the floor by the crack of the door, already accepting that this entire room was gonna be flooded, so you had no qualms with doing it.

“I see it differently.” Was his cryptic response and you deadpanned.

“Of course you do.”

The tub was now filled for two thirds and just to get back at him a little, you filled your cup once more, before abruptly turning and pouring it straight over his head.

Jotaro didn’t flinch but he did turn his eyes to you, sending you a look, to which you giggled. Bringing your arm back under the tap, you filled the measuring bucket again, a sly grin on your face as you moved it back to his face.

Jotaro was faster though, as he grabbed onto your wrist before you could angle it over his head. “Y/N, don’t.” He warned, sending you a stern look. Your surprised ‘o’ face turned into a smirk however, as you simply tilted your wrist forward and splashed the water directly in his face.

An evil giggle left you but it was stifled when Jotaro used his free hand to grab the cup from you and throw it across the room, using his grip on your wrist not a second later to pull you towards himself.

Your balance tipped over the bathtub but you managed to catch yourself with your free hand, slinging your arm around Jotaro’s shoulder to stop yourself while the arm stuck in his grip now touched the tiles of the wall.

He had attempted to pull you into the bathtub but you managed to catch yourself as your upper body now hovered over it.

Or, at least, that’s what you thought.

Jotaro never intended to pull you into the bath. Releasing your wrist, Jotaro instead placed his hand on the side of your neck and jaw, putting his other on your side to pull you closer towards himself and lock you in place. All of this happened in less than a second and a surprised squeak left you.

Jotaro found the sound absolutely adorable and when his teeth nipped at the skin of your neck, you did it again, just much louder this time, making the merman chuckle.

“I warned you.” You heard the smugness in his voice, making you take a shuddering breath.

“O-Okay, I get it. Can you let go now?” You were starting to get very flustered, feeling Jotaro’s breath against your neck as well as an occasional brush of his lips on your skin.

Your question earned you another nip however, this time a little closer to your shoulder, Jotaro having pulled your shirt away a bit to expose it. “Not what I want to hear.”

“You want to hear something?!” You exclaimed, making Jotaro let out a ‘mhm.’ Him shifting his face, almost as if he was looking for another place to playfully bite at you. “I- I-“ You started rambling out things but Jotaro was no longer focused on that.

It was like you put a spell on him. Jotaro had never before felt the urge to court someone before. And then you stepped into his life, being so kind yet always ready with a witty retort whenever he shot you one. And now, he had you so close, almost pressed into his chest, breathing in your intoxicating scent.

Without pause, Jotaro opened his mouth and locked his jaw onto the spot where your neck met your shoulder, a little further down.

Oh how he wanted to claim you. He wouldn’t! But the thought of how he simply had to just clamp down and bite a little harder, marking you as his, was way too tempting to not at least tease. Just get a small taste. The tips of his teeth ever so slightly punctured through your skin and Jotaro closed his eyes in bliss.

All the while, you froze and swallowed, because, that was not just a little nip from his front few teeth, this was a lot of them. A slight pain flared up where he bit and you squeezed his shoulder that you were leaning onto. “Jotaro?” You meekly let out and he then started making a noise that he- was that purring? You didn’t even know he could.

You didn’t dare move nor speak a word, not knowing what was going on and just listening to the calming sound coming from him for the next minute.

Finally Jotaro figured that was enough, lifting his teeth away and silently admiring the very light and small mark he made. It wouldn’t scar or stay, but Jotaro already loved the look of it. He leaned his head down and ran his tongue over it, tasting the faintest bit of your blood as he licked it away, treating your wound with utmost care.

This you allowed, a bit more relaxed by the familiar behaviour, for he had done this as well when you had cut yourself on some broken glass someone had left half buried in the sand.

Finally he let go and you quickly shot up, standing straight as an arrow next to the bathtub.

Jotaro was being forward. He knew that. Maybe even a bit too much so. But he felt he could risk it. Now that he was literally in your house, he didn’t have to worry about his forwardness scaring you away. You literally couldn’t run and avoid him. If you hadn’t picked up on his signs up until now, he had to make them more obvious; marking where the mating mark would come being one of the most obvious things he could think of.

“That’s for not listening to me.” He remarked and you opened and closed your mouth like a guppy, staring wide eyed at your tiled wall before shaking your head and snapping out of your state, slapping your hand onto your shoulder, briefly forgetting he had just licked you there and scrunching up your nose a bit cause- ew.

Lifting your hand back off you wiped it on your pants before walking to the cup Jotaro had thrown on the floor, picking it up and walking back over, nearly slipping as you did. This made Jotaro flinch to try and catch you but you already steadied yourself, meaning all that accomplished was throwing more water on the floor, the reason you nearly slipped.

After returning to his side, you continued trying to completely wet him; neither of you really saying anything, just staying in a comfortable silence.

After another ten minutes however, you figured that was good enough.

“Alright!” Slapping the edge of the tub, you smiled at the Mer. “I think that’s good enough. In about three hours the sun will go down, then we can get you from here to the pool.”

With that you stood up, but before anything else, your wrist was grabbed. “Where are you going?”

“I have to do some things.” You smiled, only for the hand around your wrist to tighten.

Jotaro held a somewhat sad and somewhat angry look on his face as he held on. “Stay?”

“Jotaro, I’ve got to do stuff.” You shook your head but Jotaro didn’t like that.

“Stay.” He growled it this time, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“No, I have to go do things. You stay here fish boy, I’ll come check on you after I’m done.” With that, you went to turn away, trying to pull your wrist from his hold as you moved to take a step.

Yet you yelped loudly as you were suddenly tugged sideways, falling towards your bath before a pair of arms caught you. You were spun around and pulled down, the sensation of cold water flooding over and enveloping your lower half making your breath hitch.

The water sloshed dangerously, threatening to spill over the edge of the tub as Jotaro settled down, tightly holding you against himself and basically on his lap, his arms like chains around your middle and barely even giving you enough room to breathe, definitely not leaving you any room to squirm.

“Stay.” Jotaro’s voice was low, a faint, deep, rumbling growl from the back of his throat accompanying his words as he spoke almost directly into your ear.

Almost immediately you starred, instinctively doing as he said as you sat still, your eyes staring wide in surprise. Your chest was going up and down fast with deep breaths. It wasn’t that you were afraid of Jotaro, he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that. It was more that it made you realise how large and dangerous Jotaro actually could be if he so chose to be.

Taking in a deep breath to calm down, you tried to ignore the coming stress of not being able to complete that task for work today (it was fine, you could do it tomorrow, right?), as well as trying to not make your teeth clack thanks to sitting in the cold water. Cause while Jotaro was made for it, you definitely weren’t.

Seeing as you weren’t trying to squirm out of his hold, Jotaro happily started purring, his chest pressed directly into your back while he placed his chin on your shoulder. Shifting his tail, he turned the end around until it was splayed out over your lap in front of you, allowing you to play with the fins.

You gently grabbed hold, starting to stroke over them and Jotaro revelled in your soft touch. You guessed this was gonna be your life for the next three hours. Freezing your butt off in water while in the hold of a grumpy Merman who would not let go.

- - - -

“Jotaro, please don’t splash!” You called out from the kitchen.

“I’m not!” Was the response you got, making you look over at your living room. There, past your dining table, in front of the couch, sat the ginormous Mer ...in a kids pool.

You had bought it about two days ago after Jotaro kept complaining that you weren’t coming outside to see him. He loved to ignore the fact that it was bloody cold and raining so hard that you only had to stand outside for a second to be drenched. So, to solve this and not have Jotaro forced to sit in the bathroom on his own, you bought a kiddie pool. One of the bigger ones you could find yet was still able to fit there where your coffee table once stood.

Right now, you were just making something to snack on while Jotaro sat and ‘patiently’ waited for you. He had discovered the television yesterday and was absolutely enamoured. Just now coaxing and urging you to turn it on again. You had agreed and were thus now getting some snacks ready to eat and drink during the marathon.

Marathon of what? No clue.

Walking over to the couch area, you placed the different snacks down on the pushed aside coffee table, walking back to the kitchen to grab the drinks as well before returning.

“Here, drink something first.” You offered the glass in your hand to Jotaro and he scrunched up his nose, as if a kid who has just been asked to take his vitamins. “You haven’t been in the bathtub in a bit and you know chlorine can’t be the best thirst clencher.” You sighed. “So unless you plan to faceplant in the kiddie pool, drink up, Jojo.” You used the nickname he had asked you to call him on purpose, knowing he loved it when you did that.

And it proved true, for he took the tall glass from your hand and threw it back as if it was a shot without any more complaint.

Happy that he did it, you quickly refilled the glass before placing it down on the table by his side, stepping over the furniture with a bit of a wobble (you had to put the table in the walkway or else the pool wouldn’t fit) and walking to the front of your tv.

“So, what do you want to watch?” You asked as you sat crouched down.

A wet hand suddenly got placed on your lower back and right thigh, Jotaro having pulled himself up to you as he was now curiously looking over your shoulder.

“What’s that?” Jotaro asked, lifting his hand from your thigh as he pointed to a certain dvd case sitting at the bottom of the pile in your hand.

“This? It’s a Barbie film. I have it for when my niece comes over.” You raised a brow and turned your head to look back at Jotaro. His eyes were transfixed on the box and you couldn’t help but silently giggle at his cute look. For him, it was the colours. The vibrant pink and silver sparkles just drew his attention and curiosity, having not a clue about anything else. “You wanna watch it?” You asked but didn’t get a clear answer.

And so, you just decided for the both of you. “Fuck it, let’s watch it.” You chuckled, putting all the other DVD’s away and taking the Barbie disc out of its case and into the player.

Standing up, Jotaro finally took his hand off your lower back - where now sat a wet spot - and slinked back to the other side of the pool, patiently waiting for you and for the movie to start.

Snorting softly, you shook your head as you grabbed the remote and walked around the pool, climbing onto the couch and to the middle of it, taking your fluffy socks off as you sat behind Jotaro in your short summer pyjamas, choosing the language of the Barbie film like they always asked before putting your feet in the pool.

A happy rumble left Jotaro as you did that, your legs running under his arms and at his side, the Mer now grabbing your ankles as he made you lock your legs around his torso, leaning back into the bottom of the couch as if it was a backrest. His elbows pointed down, he held onto your legs around his torso, making you keep them there as he petted and lightly scratched them. A content rumbling sigh leaving him as you pressed play on the movie.

You just looked at the back of his head for a bit, feeling his hands glide over your legs. It was a strange, the direction your life decided to take you on, sure. But you had to admit that you did not mind per se.

Leaning forward, you patted the top of Jotaro’s head twice, making him start a bit and look at you wide eyed while you leaned over and grabbed your bowl of snacks, leaning back into the couch cushions afterwards, ready for the movie.

In the end, Jotaro didn’t like it. Barbie was annoying. But the colours were pretty!

#ask #jotaro x reader #jotaro kujo #mertaro #mermaid au #request #jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #jojo x reader #jjba x reader #mermen #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro x you #jotaro x y/n

[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO 

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL 

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt. 

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”