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vivalabunbun · 2 years

Text

Do I Meet Your Qualifications Now?

Summary: A promise made long ago resurfaces during a night of drinks with colleagues.

Word Count: 8.2k (now this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Office au? kinda, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, slight dubcon, slight angst, mentions of office sexual harassment, creepy boss, mentions of marriage, slight yandere!alhaitham, slight mentions of breeding maybe? Jealously, possessive!alhaitham, you enjoy drinks at a tavern with the sumeru boys.

Authors note: This is my first smut in a long long time, I just thought about how alhaitham’s bottled up emotions will one day bubble over, inspired by a small ramble of mine lol. Enjoy.

side note: here is a small continuation after this story

You needed a drink, something strong enough to forget about your growing workload that your paycheck no longer justified. With each new stack of paperwork that reached your desk, the resignation form became increasingly more appealing. You were drained by the time you clocked out at 6 pm, after having to attend 4 meetings throughout the day, all of which could have been a simple email.

“No no, this company has good 401K matching, paid time off, and dental included. 401K and dental, 401K and dental.” You chanted to yourself, trying to steel your resolve against throwing your two weeks' notice in the face of your manager who has been pushing more and more of his work onto you.

All while having the gall to be flirty. As if that ugly gold band wasn’t visible on his finger. Your cheeks hurt after having to hold your business professional smile for the past eight hours. The moment you stepped foot beyond those sliding glass doors, massaging your sore face with one hand.

‘It should be happy hour now, better get a spot at the bar now,’ you thought as you took off your stiff blazer.

You swore one day you’ll catch a cold from constantly subjecting your body to the dramatic shift of your tundra of an office to the sauna that was Sumeru’s climate. Ugh, stupid professional dress code, and stupid you for deciding to wear your new heels today. The back of your ankles felt raw despite the thin layer of your stockings reducing some of the chafing.

As the saying goes, thank god it was Friday, even though you couldn’t take a half day like so many of your co-workers, you were just glad to finally be out of sight from your manager with wandering eyes.

Pushing in the wooden doors to the tavern, you were quickly engulfed in the busy hustle and bustling of servers delivering rounds of glasses to rowdy tables and the hearty drunk laughter of flushed faces.

‘Damn, it’s this crowded already.’ You felt your shoulders drop, ‘should I just pick up some wine on the way home then?’ Another sad weekend spent in your stuffy apartment, great.

Just as you were about to turn on your heels, you spotted a familiar flash of blond hair. Was that Kaveh? You squinted your eyes to focus on that spot of blond through the wave of patrons.

“HA! I’m telling you there is no way that shrewd man got his position without some sort of shady dealing. I bet he’s got some dirt on some higher-ups.”

Yep, that was definitely Kaveh, you immediately recognized that dramatic shrill in his voice. You heard it many times during your college days together, increasingly so whenever he had an architecture final due. He was at a large table, there seemed to be plenty of room for one more person. Swiftly, you made your way through the crowd to tap the blond man on the shoulder, disrupting him mid-rant.

“Kaveh? Oh my god, it is you. It’s been so long. How’ve you been?” You feigned surprise.

“Oh? Oh!” His eyes lit up with recognition. “My college savior! How’ve you been? Come, sit down and drink with us!”

Score, you’ve successfully secured a seat at the tavern. Thus, you avoided wallowing in self-pity alone on your beaten couch. You meet eyes with two unfamiliar faces, the trio seemed to have been setting up a game of cards before you joined, or before Kaveh began to rant about whatever he rants about.

After a quick round of introductions and placing your order for a glass of sweet wine, you were quickly acclimated to their conversation. Tighnari was a part of the research and development team, while Cyno was the head of company security ensuring no classified information gets leaked to competitors. Kaveh, you already knew was the star of the architecture design department.

It felt nice being able to relieve stress about redundant company policies and gossip, or at the very least it was entertaining to hear Kaveh whine nonstop about them.

“Ah, I still just don’t understand how that man got the position of head secretary. I swear he has it out for me, he refused to process my request for approval because ‘it was outside of his working hours’ and because of that my project got delayed a whole week! There is no way he climbed the ranks with that work ethic!”

You did not even have to ask who the subject of Kaveh’s dismay was, it was quite obvious to the 3 of you at the table.

“Just because I can manage a healthy work-life balance, does not mean my work ethic is mediocre. My work hours are clearly posted outside of my office, it seems that literacy has decreased.” A husky voice rang out from just behind your chair.

You felt a slight shiver run up your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps along its journey. He was here, the main antagonist in Kaveh’s rants has finally shown his face.

“Oh, ‘Haitham? It’s rare to see you come out of your shell of books.” You looked over your shoulder at the towering man as he loosened his tie. Scooting a bit closer to Cyno, making more room for him to sit at the last seat.

“It is a surprise to see you here as well, did Kaveh drag you out to play a game of cards… or perhaps did he want you to foot his tab.” Alhaitham gave the blond man a slight side-eye before returning his attention back to you.

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“It was intentional, couldn’t you tell?”

“You-”

You let out a light giggle from behind your wine glass, noticing the sliver-haired man’s eyes turning back towards you.

“Did you want to sample a bit of the wine? It’s sweet.” You offered your glass to him, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shiver when his long fingers brushed against yours as he accepted it. You tried to keep your face as polite as possible, not allowing your eyes to wander down along his neck as he took a sip.

“Not bad,” he placed your glass back down in front of you. “Boss, this is good wine. I would have the same, please.” He turned his large body slightly as he called out to the tavern owner.

Allowing you to see just how well that button-down shirt fitted his form, the top button seemed to be holding on with all its strength.

“I thought we were all grown enough to not be entertained by mindless gossip,” Alhaitham remarked towards the table.

“Not at all, we were just curious about the raising star of the company,” Tighnari commented.

“There’s nothing special to talk about, I just arrive and do the task I have to before I clock out.”

“It’s a bit odd for a man that lacks ambition to land such a high role within a year.” Cyno followed up, his eyes holding a hint of suspicion.

“ It’s really nothing complicated. I’ve even rejected some promotions, the work of a secretary is simple, that’s why I wish to keep things this way.”

“Ah, he’s humble-bragging now.” You hear the tan man beside you mutter as he crossed his arms.

You also couldn’t help but feel the sting of jealousy as well. While you were proud of your childhood friend having success in his carrier, he advanced much faster than you even though you got a two-year head start.

“Ugh, how did you stand this egomaniac for so long.” Kaveh harshly set his glass down, directing the question at you.

Seeing this as an opportunity to tone your childhood friend down a few, you couldn’t help the slight grin that spread across your face.

“Well, he’s always been this way,” you swirled your glass, “I guess I just got used to it.”

“Makes sense, attitudes like his tend to develop at tender ages.” Tighnari vouched.

“He was so cute when he was younger. This man used to pull on my sleeve and beg me to read Aristotle to him.” You stole a quick glance over your wine glass.

“Oh? You two go that far back?” Cyno inquired.

You hummed in confirmation as you took another sip, “I guess it’s partially my fault for not correcting him back then. But he used to have the chubbiest cheeks, I couldn’t help but be swayed. Who would’ve known that once that cuteness faded, all that’s left is a mulish man.”

You heard Alhaitham tsk in annoyance at your jabs, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat.

“Clinging onto the past will serve no benefit towards the future. Frankly, it’s a foolish thought.”

You hid the sting in your heart with a teasing smile, hoping that it reached your eyes as well. He was right, the past was gone and over with, with little to no bearings on the future. The same stood with your relationship, childhood friends, and nothing more.

Alhaitham had the looks, the stellar career, and was already a homeowner while being four years your junior. Even with your head start on life, it felt as if you were constantly behind him, trying to catch up. You knew one day he’ll leave you in the dust, so it is for the best that you let go of this one-sided crush.

“Oh? Then I guess I’m released from that childhood pact then. How freeing.” You let out a slight laugh before taking a larger sip of your wine. You should probably order another glass, maybe two actually.

The stoic man raised an eyebrow at your statement, “and what do you mean by that.”

“Aw, it looks like little ‘Haitham forgot,” you pouted. However, you could not let this opportunity to tease him slip away.

Setting down your glass, you turned to face everyone gesturing a hand toward Alhaitham. “You see, when we were still children. He walked up to me with a flower and asked me to marry him when we grew up.”

Instantly piquing the attention of everyone at the table.

“Pfft, there’s no way that happened.” Kaveh let out a hearty laugh, waving his hand as if dismissing that notion.

“Best believe it, he ignored me for a week when I told him no. Only ‘forgiving’ me after I gave him extra sweets and promised to think about it again in the future.” You supported your face with one hand.

“So I guess you are to blame for his apatheticness? Traumatizing him so young? I’m starting to sympathize with you, Alhaitham” Tighnari scoffed.

“Well, I apologize for my shallow taste when I was a child. I used to dream of being carried off into the sunset in a white dress by my groom.” You dramatically sighed.

You mockingly patted Alhaitham’s arm, feeling the solid muscle hidden beneath the fabric tense up then relax at your sudden skinship.

“Before he became an absolute tree, this guy used to be half my size and weight. Which is why I rejected him back then, I didn’t want to crush my groom to death at our wedding.”

Just what were your intentions when you brought up that childhood memory? Alhaitham was racking his mind, trying to pinpoint a motive, too distracted to be bothered by the snickering that permeated throughout the table.

Your hand, which still lingered on his arm, brought pulses of heat along his skin, the hair at the nape of his neck pricking up from the sensation.

“On the topic of marriage, have you gotten any luck so far? Found anyone special yet?” Kaveh tucked his hands under his chin, as he rested his elbows on the crowded table.

“Ugh, Kaveh, stop you sound like my fucking mother.” You brought your hand up to your temple. Alhaitham’s skin immediately craved your touch again.

“I’m taking that as a ‘no’ then.”

“Obviously, gosh, every time I go to visit my parents it turns into an interrogation of why I didn’t come back with a ring on my finger.” You took another swig of your wine.

“Is that so?” Kaveh prodded, wanting the conversation to continue.

“Honestly, at this rate, I won’t be marrying for love. I’ll be marrying to shut my parents up.”

“Oh? And what would a husband candidate need? To be able to carry you off to the honeymoon?”

“Har har har, Kaveh, very clever.”

“Okay, now seriously.”

“Well, obviously he needs to get along with my parents.”

Just earlier this evening Alhaitham had responded to a message from your mother, telling him how thrilled they were to receive his housewarming gift basket. Your mother wishing that more young people were as considerate as he was towards his elders.

“And I would prefer someone attentive.”

Alhaitham did not even have to think when ordering coffee for you. A mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and an extra drizzle of chocolate syrup. When it gets closer to the holidays, you liked to add one pump of peppermint syrup.

He also takes note of how your words tend to get more graphic once there's alcohol in your veins.

“What about income, you want a man with 6 figures? 7?”

“Ha, if my husband made 7 figures I’d run him a warm bath with rose petals, the house will be spotless, and have dinner set on the table at 7 o’clock sharp. A girl can dream, it would also mean I won’t have to see that ugly bastard’s face again.”

Roses were nice. However, lavender was much better for baths to relax the muscles. After 3 years Alhaitham was confident that he could renegotiate his salary. He knew that your organization skills violently oscillates between an absolute disaster to professional house cleaning service depending on how stressed you were. Your cooking though was always guaranteed to be delectable, 7 pm just so happened to be his preferred time for dinner.

Pause, wait a moment-

“Huh? Is your manager still bothering you? Isn’t he already married? What a sleazebag.”

“Tell me about it,” you were rubbing your temples more aggressively. “I’ve thought about staking my pen through his hand if he tried to place it on my shoulder again.”

“Would you like me to file a report to HR?” Cyno looked over at you with concern and sincerity.

“Thank you, but I’ve already tried. They said until there was hard evidence of such behavior they can’t move on with an investigation.”

“Ugh, it’s always HR protecting the top dogs once again. Seriously, I’m not even from the same department but even I can feel that slimy gaze of his whenever he looks at you. Makes me want to burn my skin off in the shower, how you withstand that is beyond me.” Kaveh, rested one over his chair, dramatically making a face to show his disgust.

Your manager, yes, it’s been noted on several performance reports that his productivity has been on the decline. Perhaps, an additional report from Alhaitham about the suspicious disappearance of funds under your manager’s supervision would warrant a full-scale investigation.

That fool had his wife listed as his emergency contact, the ashen-haired man wondered if he would detail her husband’s harassment of young women in his department to her.

“Let’s move on to a different subject, shall we? I’d be damned if my Friday night is ruined by thoughts of that man.” You rubbed your thumb along the stem of your glass, a nervous habit of yours he noted.

And with that, the drinking continued to pour, as Cyno and Kaveh began a round of cards. If you weren’t so distracted by Kaveh’s theatrical whines of how Cyno should take an easy on him, you would’ve seen the look that promised no good on Alhaitham’s face. Its true intentions are well hidden behind a stoic face.

“You would think he would have learned his limit by now.” Alhaitham couldn’t help but scoff at his housemate.

The blond was absolutely hammered, slurring his words as if they were some encrypted message. Upon seeing the state that Kaveh was in, everyone unanimously agreed to call it a night. Cyno and Tighnari supported him as Alhaitham went to the edge of a sidewalk to hail a cab.

“Are you not going to ride in the same taxi as Kaveh? You’re both going to the same destination no?” You inquired, looking up at him after he gave the directions to his house and cash for the trip.

“And what, get puked on during the ride? Kaveh is a big boy now, I’m sure he’ll manage. Besides…” His teal eyes quickly trailed up your legs.

Your stockings accentuating the shape of your legs as they beckoned his attention towards that pencil skirt with a cheeky leg slit. Not revealing enough to be chastised as unprofessional, but oh so tempting.

“It’s more important that I see you get home safely. Now, come.” He turned his back towards you, heading in the direction of your apartment. Not wanting to be caught staring at you.

Throughout the walk the two of you were silent, but it was a calm silence that can only develop from a place of comfort and familiarity. The clicking of your heels and the taps of his dress shoes filled the air between you and him like a metronome. Alhaitham made sure to remind himself to match his pace with yours, lest his longer legs pull him far ahead of you.

Finally arriving at the entrance of your apartment complex, you swiped your keycard to unlock the heavy security door. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system but it took all of your body weight to pry the metal door ajar. You felt a small hand on your back, stopping your pitiful attempt.

“You’re going to strain your back, here, allow me.” Alhaitham’s voice was so close to your ear that you sore the vibrations tickled it.

Stepping aside, you allowed Alhaitham to grasp onto the side of the door as he swung the door open as if it weighed nothing. He took hold of the handle, meeting your eyes as he gestured you to enter. You felt a bit stupid for struggling so much with the door in front of him, so you quickly shuffled inside as he followed right behind you. Strolling through the lobby you finally arrived at the shiny doors of the elevator.

“Well, I guess this is goodnight.” You looked up at Alhaitham as you pressed the call button.

You heard the ding of the elevator arriving… only for the doors to not open.

You pressed the button again, it dinged again, and again… then the light of the elevator flickered out. Great, just your luck, the elevator decided to break down now of all times. Further embarrassing you in front of Alhaitham. Even though his face remains stoic as ever, he probably thinks your place is shabby.

“Ha ha, what a way to end a night. I guess I’ll be taking the stairs… You should call a cab to get back now.” You cringed a bit on the inside, why did you sound so awkward?

The stairwell door creaked open with all the grace of nails dragging down a chalkboard, the noise almost causing a headache to form as you begin your ascension up the gray stairs.

Only for your 6 flight journey to be halted at the second step as you stumbled. Once again, those new heels you were so excited to wear decided to rear their nasty face. Luckily, you were able to catch yourself on the solid hand railing. Sighing to yourself, you prepared to clutch onto it like a lifeline for the rest of your trek.

Suddenly your body felt weightless as two solid arms hoisted you up, and you felt your figure way too close to a warm, built frame.

“W-what are you doing??” Your hands were flailing as you did not know where to place them.

“Quiet, it’s past midnight and your voice is bouncing off the walls. Do you want a noise complaint?”

“That wasn’t my question! Haitham put me down I can walk!!”

“Oh really? Did you seriously not notice how many times you’ve been tripping and stumbling on your way back? It’s safer for me to just carry you, unless you prefer tumbling down the stairs.”

“N-no! I-”

Alhaitham seems to be ignoring your plight as your slaps on his shoulder and arms elicited no reaction. His firm grip on your body did not let up as he effortlessly ascended the stairs, even shifting your weight a bit when he went to open the door to your floor.

You were stone-cold sober at this point but your face was hot and flushed when Alhaitham finally placed you back down on your own feet at your apartment door.

You couldn’t muster up the courage to thank him let alone even look at him, in case he sees the obvious red tint on your cheeks. Keys fumbling in your hands as you tried to line it with the keyhole, a small click and turn of the brass knob has your apartment ajar.

What do you do now? Is this the final goodbye for tonight? Should you take a cold shower to purge these overwhelming emotions?

“Um… would you like to come inside for a glass of water?” You spoke those words before you could think it through. Great, you just prolonged your suffering, great job.

“Sure.” And much to your dismay Alhaitham agreed.

His teal eyes lazily observed the plush throw pillows on your sofa along with the soft blanket hastily thrown over the back of it. Alhaitham could hear you bustling in the kitchen as you prepared a glass of ice water for him.

In stark contrast to his own walls, yours was crowded with many photos like a timeline of your life. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he observed a photo strip taped onto the side of your college graduation portrait.

It was a cheap strip of laminated plastic from some mall photo booth, but your smile was radiant as you had one hand squeezing his face trying to get the stone-faced boy to crack a smile.

“Here, it’s on the house.” You clinked the frosty glass onto the coaster in front of him.

He felt the sofa dip a bit more as you plopped your body on the other side, letting out a content sigh, probably finally being able to feel your feet again. He knew those heels caused you great discomfort, but he almost wished for another glimpse.

“Thank you.”

Once more a comfortable silence encased the air between the two of you. Somewhere along the line, your hand found its way to his gray locks, gently running your fingers along his scalp.

“What shampoo do you use, ‘Haitham? Your hair is always so soft and voluminous. I’m kinda jealous.” He heard the amused quip in your voice.

He both yearned and despised whenever you pet his head. As your fingers continued to rake through his ash hair he couldn’t help the rush of blood that flowed south. Yet, a pang of annoyance was felt in his chest. ‘You still thought of him as a kid’ was the message he decrypted from your actions.

“Whichever brand is closest to me at the store. Or whichever bottles Kaveh left in the shower.” Alhaitham leaned a bit more into your touch.

“Tsk, of course.” He could hear the smile in your voice.

There was no end benefit to be gained from his feelings towards you. In fact, his life would’ve been so much easier if only his brain didn’t release dopamine the moment he hears the slightest mention of you.

As a person who prides himself on his objectivity and factuality, he could not explain why you were an outlier that skews his rationality.

The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden pierce of your ringtone, the name that flashed across the screen caused Alhaitham’s eyes to narrow.

Manager Kimiya

The manager who has been the source of your frustrations, evident by your conversation back at the bar. Why was he calling you this late? Alhaitham observed the grimace on your face as you quickly retracted your hand from his hair, picking up the phone as you excused yourself back to the kitchen.

Why were you answering his call?

You were speaking in a rather hushed voice, even with Alhaitham straining his ears to try and hear just what was so important to warrant a phone call so late at night.

“Yes, of course…. No… I see… okay… yes… I understand… yes, goodnight to you as well.”

Before Alhaitham could stop himself, he found his form behind yours at the kitchen counter as you finally ended your call. Frown present at the corners of your lips.

“Why did he contact you this late?”

Your body flinched in surprise. Ah, so you did not even notice his presence behind you. As his teal eyes stared down at your smaller frame, he could feel the clawing of a green-eyed monster tugging against the restraints Alhaitham so carefully bounded it in.

“No reason, just work stuff… mostly.”

Mostly? Alhaitham pushed down at the monster, trying to bottle the disgusting foreboding envy.

“Why did you answer?”

“I just told you, Haitham. It’s for work.”

Alhaitham’s teeth ground against each other as he clenched his jaw. The monster was thrashing around violently.

“You didn’t have to answer.”

Your eyes closed in annoyance as you opened your mouth, a snarky reply ready to be thrown his way. Only for it to be stuck on the tip of your tongue as Alhaitham’s arms grasped the counter at either side of you. Pinning you between the cold granite top and his towering frame.

“Are you interested in him?” There was a dangerous edge to his low voice.

“Did you have too much to drink?” You whipped around in disbelief, annoyance dripping from your tone.

Your face was very close to his, nose almost touching, breaths brushing against each other’s lips.

“Answer the question.” His voice deepened further, a dark glaze over his eyes.

“I don’t.” You narrowed your eyes at him, inching your face closer as if to prove a point.

Alhaitham’s restraint of the beast began to slip. He needed a moment to grasp back onto it, to regain control. No, he could not wait any more, not one second longer.

It was as if all the past decade's worth of pinning that kept him up at night came rushing out. Bursting through the walls that Alhaitham spent years building to contain them.

It all rushed out in a messy, heated, and disgusting wave that washed over him and drowned his rationality as he slammed his lips into yours. Capturing the soft flesh into an all-consuming kiss. It was ugly, yet it felt so beautiful. So all consumingly beautiful.

Your brain was trying its best to regain itself as you recovered from the whiplash, you were kissing Alhaitham. His larger frame pushes your body up against the kitchen counter, cold stone pressing up against your burning skin. His tongue brushed against your lips hungrily, asking out of courtesy for permission. Your lips parted, allowing him access as your fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It was almost animalistic the way he devoured the air from your lungs, your head began to float as pleasure trailed up your spine. You harshly tugged at his ashen hair to break the near-airtight lock your lips were tangled in.

Barely getting two much-needed breaths in as your eyes connected with lustful teal before lips clashed once more. You tasted the sweet wine that still lingered on his tongue, the sweet taste of crossing a dangerous line.

Alhaitham released your lips then dived back into trail kisses from your glistening lips to down your face and neck. A pleased whimper escaped as you titled your head to the side, allowing him more access to your sensitive spots.

You now had two arms thrown around his neck, back arching as his large hands began to rub your thigh over the thin fabric of your stockings. The heat from his palms and the friction creeping up to your core. You felt the suction of his mouth against your neck causing you to press your chest more into his as you whined.

Two hands firmly gripped onto each of your legs then harshly parted them, allowing for Alhaitham’s solid torso to press up against your pulsing core. You couldn’t help the slight roll of your hips against his abs, your poor cunt begging for a crumb of attention.

The air was too hot, tension too thick, Your skirt now all bunched up as his fingers skillfully unbuttoned your shirt. You replicated his actions as you clumsily groped at his chest to locate the buttons of the dress shirt, your senses graced by the plushness of his pectorals.

It was animalistic the way Alhaitham was claiming your skin with his kisses, every now and then marking the tender flesh of your breast and neck. ‘Fuck, how can simple kisses feel so good’ was the thought running through your hazy mind, pressing his head more against you. A hardness making itself known against your neglected wetness. Excitement spiking up inside you.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He commanded.

You obediently did so, locking your ankles together behind his back, intentionally rubbing your cunt against his trapped erection. Alhaitham straightened his posture as he scooted your bottom off the counter, large hands digging into the flesh of your ass then firmly squashing your core against hardness.

The sudden movement causes you to let out a gasp. He shot you a look, warning that he did not have the patience to be teased.

Effortlessly he carried you into the bedroom, kisses still desperately being exchanged the entire time. Tossing you onto your messy sheets, he took a moment to admire how absolutely wrecked you looked. Cheeks flushed red, lips glossy from mixed saliva, eyes teary yet burning with desire. If you looked like this from simple kisses, he couldn’t wait for what you’d look like during the main event.

With you now on your back, more vulnerable, it gave him the opportunity to finally strip the blouse off your body, exposing more of your skin. Feeling a tug at his shirt.

“You too…”

When you asked so shyly with those pouty lips, how could Alhaitham refuse? A silent game began, as for every piece of clothing one shed, the other would follow. Your bra, his belt, your skirt, and his slacks were now littered across your floor. Hands greedily groping at each other's flesh, a large hand cupping your breast as your hand dipped to rub his bulge through his boxers.

“Excited?” Your confidence was boosted when you felt a small wet patch on the fabric.

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed.

Hand releasing your breast to grope the contour of your pussy through your ruined panties. Harshly pressing against your eager clit, a moan tumbled out of your mouth. Alhaitham dropped his head right next to yours, baritone voice against your ear,

“See, you even soaked through your stockings. Just how wet are you?”

Long fingers began to trace along the slit of your cunt, lazily rubbing a circle on your clit before tracing back down. Your legs wanted to clamp down on his cruel hand but with his body pinning you down it was impossible. The message was clear, you were at his mercy.

“What do you want?”

A simple question he asked you, but your pride would not let you answer. That bastard knows what you want, your cunt was practically sobbing for something to be buried deep in it. But he still continued his slow, torturous movement, eyes locked on your expression. You faced away from him, unable to handle the intense glaze on your flushed face.

“Eyes on me.” His other hand squished your cheeks as he turned your face back.

Teal and orange eyes piercing into yours, you wanted to protest, he was being so mean. His perfect face only had a slight flush, while you were certain yours was a mess. Alhaitham must have sensed this as he nudged his thumb into your mouth, letting it rest against your pink tongue.

“Come now, use your words. What do you want?”

Pride be damned, the burning sensation between your legs overtook your reasoning as his other hand was now harshly circling your sensitive bud.

“Y-you.” You moaned around his thumb.

A smug look was now plastered on his handsome face, you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap it or pull him into another kiss.

“Good girl.” Looping his fingers into the waistband of your stockings, harshly tugging them down the length of your legs.

He definitely ripped them, but your brain was too busy processing the words he just called.

Shifting your body more onto the bed, he pried your legs open, giving him a direct view of your drenched panties. Snapping back into reality and suddenly now worried about your modesty you reached a hand down as if to shield your desire from his observant eyes. A quick slap to your hand echoed through the room.

“It’s a bit late to be embarrassed now.” The same hand pushed the ruined fabric to the side before a long, thick finger was thrusted inside.

Your head jerked back at the sudden intrusion, barely being able to bite back a moan. Your aching cunt now had a taste of what it craved so desperately, but now it only craved more. Something thicker, longer, heavier. It wanted more even as Alhaitham slipped another finger in with minimal resistance. Scissoring the digits inside of you, exploring deep inside as slick drooled out.

You tried to suppress your moans by biting down on the thumb that still lingered in your mouth. He sucked a breath through his teeth at your actions.

“Be nice.” He ordered, tearing his thumb out of your mouth at the same time as his fingers from your cunt.

His two fingers coated in your juices were then shoved into your gaping mouth, giving you a taste of yourself. Wordlessly you maneuvered your tongue against his fingers, cleaning the slick from the thick digits. His cock twitched when he felt you welcome his fingers deeper into the gummy walls of your mouth.

Alhaitham wanted to play with you more, to tease your clit and pussy until it was swollen and soaking the sheets below. However, right now, he did not have the patience as the length in his boxers raged angrily. Perhaps, if his plan goes well he can save that desire for another time.

He chuckled to himself, this is what you do to him, you turn him into a man so consumed by lust he would not even stretch you out with good foreplay. Your cunt felt wet enough, he could see how drops of slickness were trailing onto the sheets, you were ready for him. Finally releasing his member out of its confinement, he let out a small hiss that the feeling of his sensitive head rubbing along your slick folds.

“Wait,” you got up on your elbow as another hand pressed against his toro, halting his movement.

You swiftly reached over to your nightstand, digging through to find the box of condoms. You took a foil package out, turning back to Alhaitham you handed it to him. You did your best not to look at his member, but it was hard to when it was just that intimidating. On lonely nights, there were times you imagined what that tall, buff body hid beneath the layers.

‘Would the condom even go over it?’ you wondered as Alhaitham stiffly ripped open the foil. Fortunately, the condom was able to encase his length, you patted yourself on the back for getting the variety pack.

“Heh,” Alhaitham’s hands grasped the sides of your hips. “You were prepared.”

It could’ve been your imagination, but his calm tone felt forced. Almost as if he was angry, but Alhaitham never got angry at you.

“What’s the ma- AH!”

The concern died in your throat when the entirety of his length was thrusted into you. Your cunt clenching around him, not wanting to let go of the deep satisfaction of finally being full. Alhaitham let a quiet moan through his clenched teeth, pulling out halfway then snapping his hips back into yours.

Your hands desperately latched onto your sheets, twisting and pulling the fabric to try and ground yourself. The stretch had you stumbling over your words, never had you felt this full. He felt so heavy inside of you, deliciously dragging against your quivering walls.

Alhaitham followed the intrusion with a few slow thrusts, the squelch of your cunt welcoming his length sounded through the heavy air. The grip on your hips turned unyielding as his pace shifted, his hips settling on a punishing pace against your poor masochistic cunt. Moans leaving your lips without regard for your neighbors.

“Were you expecting this tonight?” He ended his sentence with an especially deep thrust.

You barely heard him over the wet slapping of skin, mind focused on how good it felt when his tip rammed into that one spot. Alhaitham noticed how your cunt contracted when he hit a particular place, quickly angling his hips to strike your weakness again, then again, and again. Each time he did you would let out a cry, tongue lulling out of your mouth. At this point, his fingers are for sure leaving purple marks.

“Is that why you were at the bar?” He continued.

The green-eyed monster clawed its way up inside him, if he had not gone to the bar earlier by chance, would you have shown this sinful face to someone else?

A voice at the back of his mind called for him to take you lovingly, to slow his pace, to caress your face with his hands and kisses. But the voice of the beast whispered in his ear to ruin you, use you to further his own pleasure, to pound the shape of his length into you. Yes, perhaps if he did that then no other man could ever satisfy you.

“So, who did you plan to take home?”

He thrusted his tip deeper, you swore it was hitting your cervix now. Breast bouncing along with his violent pace. A thumb dug into your swollen clit suddenly causing you to throw your head back as your mind came dangerously close to the edge of sanity. A delicious tension begins to form in your core.

“Answer. The. Question.” Each word was followed by a harsh thrust, as your bud was pinched between his two fingers.

“Ah- ah!” Was the only reply you could muster.

Alhaitham stilled his motion deep inside of you, heavy, thick member resting right up against your cervix. Fingers now cruelly rolling your abused clit in its grasp, making your toes curl and back arch.

He could feel your walls convulsing around him, begging for more of his punishing thrusts, not wanting the tension to dissipate. But he didn’t want to give that to you, not until you give him what he wanted.

“Who. Who are you thinking of? Are you imagining being pinned down like this by them?”

Your lust-hazed eyes looked into his with confusion, brain barely able to string together a coherent thought to process his question. As if he asked you the most elaborate philosophical question.

Even with your mind nearly liquefied by the heat of pleasure and vision blurred from tears, the self-loathing in his eyes was obvious. Releasing the sheets from your iron grip, you cupped his face as you pulled him into a soft kiss. The first of the night.

“Y-you ah!” You moaned against his lips.

His hand stilled for a moment, then quickly regained its pace rolling the bundle of nerves. His lips chased after yours, shallowing your moans as he pinned your body more into the mattress.

“Say it, confirm it.” A trail connecting your lips as he pulled away.

“Alh-ah! Alhaitham!”

A switch was flipped as his hips sprang back into motion, the push and pull rocking the bed as your hands found refuge on his broad shoulders. The tension only grew in your core with every blow against your weak spot in tandem with the circles he was grinding into your bud.

“Alhaitham! A-ah Alhai-yes, right there!” Shamelessly moaning out his name like you did on those desperate nights with your own fingers.

Your toes were curling painfully from the pleasure currently engulfing your entire body, your cunt full and hair a mess. Arching your body more into his solid figure as his unforgiving pace continued to abuse your grateful walls.

The wet slooshing of your slick as your hole welcomed his member over and over again no longer embarrassed. You were growing close, the ball of tension in your core was so close to snapping, you wanted sweet release so badly.

“P-please! Ah! Please!” You begged for him to let you fall into cloud nine.

Quickly understanding your plead, Alhaitham continued his the motion of his hips, making sure to strike that spot with more force as his thumb rubbed your clit faster. He dipped his head down to kiss along the edge of your tear stained face. The sensation of his teeth sinking into your neck was the catalysis that finally pushed you off the edge.

Your body pressed itself taught against his, walls clamping down like a vise around his member as the orgasm ripped through your body. Strangled moans against his ears as your vision turned white.

He removed his thumb from your clit, now even redder and swollen, as he bit more into your neck, the sensation of your walls trying to milk him dry almost brought him over as well. However, he couldn’t let it end so fast, not when he had fantasized about this moment for years.

He forced himself to drag himself out against the tight grip of your walls, then used his body weight to thrust back into you to continue with his rhythm. He felt his own release approaching as he stared at how your eyes were rolled to the back of your head.

‘Would you notice if I were to rip the condom off?’ He wondered as you were still on cloud nine, but your body still responding to his moves.

‘Would you even care? Would you want it too?’ The thought of painting your walls in white and watching as your cunt drank up his thick cum filled him with a dark desire.

He wanted to fill you with his essence, to claim you as fully his from the inside out, to steep into every fiber of your being. His hands found purchase on your hips again as he pinned your frame below him, thrusting deeper than he had ever before into you as he spilled himself into the latex.

His body shook against yours as he panted from the exertion.

The creaking of the bed stopped as Alhaitham pulled back to press sweet kisses to your temple, coaxing your consciousness back to reality. Using his fingers to wipe away the tears that still leaked from your eyes, as your pupils came back into view. Returning from their trip at the back of your head. There was a moment of stillness, as pants echoed through the air, breaths overlapping and caressing another.

You felt him shift, pulling his length fully out from your gummy walls. Your cunt clentched at the sudden emptiness. You watched as he grabbed a few tissues from your night stand, then proceeded to roll the filled condom off, disposing it into the paper.

You shut your eyes, chest still heaving at the exertion you had just put your body through.

The sound of condoms shaking against their cardboard box made your eyes snap back open. As you watched the ashen haired man shamelessly pull another foil package out of the container.

Oh… The night was still young.

The bright and pitched chirping of the birds outside stirred you from your slumber. Oh god, your hips were so sore, you questioned whether or not you would make it out of bed.

Two arms firmly encompassed your waist, pressing your back against the warm source of the pain in your hip.

As much as you hated to admit it, Alhaitham looked angelic when he was asleep. Usual stone face now relaxed and soft, the sunlight drawing blurred shapes along his skin and hair through your curtains.

You wanted to brush the hair out of his peaceful face, fingers reaching out then freezing as the reality of last night hit you.

You two had crossed the bold line that was drawn in the sand, now standing the cold ocean of the unknown. The questions of what your relationship had turned into violently crashed into you like unforgiving waves as you feel yourself beginning to drown in self-doubt.

Was this a one-time thing? A closeness you will never experience with him ever again? Was this the final chapter of the story of you and Alhaitham? Did you ruin years of trust and friendship?

The questions began to become overwhelming, you needed to get up, to just get somewhere to clear your mind.

Slowly your tried to shimmy yourself out of his firm hold, carefully trying not to rouse him from his slumber. Only for your plan to come crashing down as his arms tightened around you, halting your motion.

“Stay.” An uncharacteristic softness present in his tone.

You stilled your body, heart pounding so hard against your chest you were certain Alhaitham could feel it too. Just like how you could feel the rhythmic beating of his against your back.

His deep breaths brushed against your neck as he buried his face into the crook. Tension now hung in the air, but who was going to be the first to break it? Mustering up all the courage you could gather,

“Alhaith-”

“I found you a nuisance when I was first introduced to you.” He began.

You felt your heart sink at his confession, but he continued.

“The way you dragged me out to play, fed me snacks, and especially when you pet my head. I found it all annoying… It was annoying because it would cause me heart palpitations, my breath would hitch, and my face would flush. I thought I had caught a sickness from you, a sickness that made me addicted to your presence.”

Your heart was now jumping as if it wanted to burst from your chest, he buried his face deeper into your neck.

“Then one day I read a book that detailed my exact symptoms. Do you know what the diagnosis was? Love - an intense, deep affection for another person. That day when I proposed with that small weed, I discovered that I was in love with you.”

You froze, almost not believing your own ears.

“Well of course back then I did not meet your qualifications. I hoped that the sickness would disappear. No actually, I used to pray to gods I don’t believe in that they would take you out of my head, where you always seemed to haunt . They must have cursed me because as time moved on, my illness just got worse. It began to border on mania, madness. So, please listen.”

He turned your body in his arms so that you were staring right into his eyes, a hopeful and sincere glimmer present in the saturated teal.

“I love you, I adore you, I wish to wake up every morning to you in my arms just like this. I want to walk through life hand in hand with you. Your parents hold me in high regard. I will get a mocha with two shots of expresso, oat milk, and extra chocolate syrup every morning for you, I can even learn to make it. If you are worried about finances, if this company doesn’t agree to my raise by the end of two years I will search for another position that will.”

His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your knuckles up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

“And I am confident in my ability to carry you no matter what wedding dress you dawn. So do I meet your qualifications now?”

His teal eyes looked into yours, yearning for your answer. Your eyes were wide and lips frozen. You were waiting to wake up in your messy sheets alone, fully clothed, and for the other side of the bed to be cold. This had to be a dream, this couldn’t be real.

However, the hot tears that clouded your vision and dripped down your cheeks felt too real to be an illusion. The look of adoration in his eyes was too genuine to be conjured up by your pitiful imagination.

“Could we… Could we take this slowly?” You whispered, squeezing his hands.

“Of course. I’ve waited for over sixteen years, I can wait a little longer.”

You buried your flushed face into his chest, he let your wet tears soak into his skin as he kissed the crown of your head. Embracing each other as if the other could disappear.

“I love you too.”

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS.

#al-haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x reader #yandere alhaitham #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham imagines #genshin impact x you #genshin impact scenarios #alhaitham scenarios #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #genshin fluff #vivalabunbunfics

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simpingforheros · 17 days

Text

Safe

Pairing: Gotham Knights! Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Being a mercenary isn’t easy. Being a lab experiment turned mercenary isn’t easy either. Being a Bio-engineered mercenary in Gotham city with a reformed Red Hood isn’t easy at all.

Warnings: Hurt Comfort, Angst with bittersweet ending, Enemies to Friends??, Female Pronouns, Mild Violence, Horrible Fight Scenes (I’m sorry), Reader is basically Black Cat but little different, implied OOC! Amanda Waller, Mentions of Death, Torture, PTSD, and Panic Attacks.

Author’s Note: I guess I’ll give y’all a break from my Toxic! Jason agenda. But I’m not giving y’all a break from calling y’all out on being slanderous to my underrated, unproblematic princess that is GK! Jason. He may not be as pretty as the other ones, but he got a better relationship with his family than y’all have with y’all’s daddies (jk I’m sorry). Also yes, the reader is Black Cat coded because I love her and I want to see Jason with a cool feline counterpart of his own.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fuck. FUCK!

Chanted through her mind as she realizes what the hell she has just done. This whole assignment was a set up from the moment that job listing hit her burner phone. Her clawed gloves raked through her hair as she desperately took in her situation.

Months after the death of Batman, criminals became bolder with their crimes despite the lurking remains of Batman’s legacy. New villains and mercenaries came in to either assist Gotham’s veteran rogues or building their own empires among the shadows of the bigger evil’s crimes. However, Y/N didn’t fall into either category.

Originally a lab rat for Amanda Waller to find a cure for her terminal cancer, the cat like mercenary became a quick popular option among gang leaders and the low life to hire to do quick jobs without minimum risk. Of course the cat like persona wasn’t due to her stealth…

A blast rings out of the previously locked door as the girl’s head snaps back. Her body collapses as the roar of victorious laughter fills the air.

“You see how that bitch’s head just snapped back like a twig?!” Victor Sionas laughed through his leather mask as his golden firearm flashed in the fluorescent light of the value.

It was supposed to be a quick heist, minimum risk on her end. Just grab a hard drive with 6.8 Billion dollars worth of stolen and encrypted medical documents and financial records and leave before Black Mask realized she was there. An easy heist for a fair reward.

Victor’s ranting and raving filled the safe in loud echos as his assistant tries to listen to her pager for their normal disposal team. As the crimson slowly sets into the concrete, a faint green glow began to form around her body. The harsh grit releases her life force as it recedes back into her skull.

Amanda Waller wasn’t normally a desperate woman, but when it came to her life, she didn’t care what criminal she had to deal with to get her life back. Even the League of Assassins…

As the pair was about to leave to attend a meeting of some kind, Y/N didn’t know or care to know as her ears ring back into tune. Her body jolts up as she springs back to life in an instant.

As her eyes meet Sionas’ shocked stare, her lips curled into a wicked smirk. Her E/C eyes shined with a new madness as she flexes her adamantium tipped claws, ready to rip out his throat.

Victor quickly raises his gun ready to shoot again as she swipes at his wrist. The appendage falling to the floor as his screams drowned out the echos of his false victories.

“I guess it was an easy job.” She comments before her claws strike again.

Maybe she should ask for a raise to make up for her dry cleaning?

+++++++++++++++

The crime scene was a bloodbath.

Police scrambled and crawled the building as lights and tape marked the massacre. Every surface, furniture, rug, and plant were all tagged, sprayed, and searched for any bodily matter that could lead you to the person behind this horrific crime.

Black Mask’s gang. A once prominent gang in Gotham city who survived fights between Batman and The Red Hood were all dead. Eviscerated. Slaughtered.

All of the dead were clinging onto weapons as either distinct claw marks either craved them to ribbons or they were killed by their own weapons. Whoever did it clearly attacked the ones who attacked first.

The only survivors were the ones who didn’t attempt to fight the assailant. Victor’s assistant was the only one that was harmed among them with a deep set of scratches on her face with a look of horror in her eyes.

A look Nightwing and Red Hood didn’t like to see even from a criminal.

“And you said you didn’t know why this happened?” Nightwing asks skeptical of the woman’s reliability.

The woman eagerly nods as she sputters out, “We caught her in the safe and Sionas wanted to teach her a lesson…we heard her reputation was only with stealing…not this…”

Jason growls as he grew inpatient with her stuttering, but he takes a deep breath. ‘Be Patient…’ He reminds himself before something made his ears perk up.

“It was like magic or something! Sionas shot her point blank in the head and she just came back to life in an instant!! That’s when she went crazy! We just wanted to get her back for stealing from our off shore accounts. We didn’t know that she was a…monster.”

Fuck.

+++++++++++++++++++

Fire. Fire is what it felt like. It crawls from the deepest part of her mind and spreads through her veins like a fever. Her vision tunneled in as memories of all her previous deaths haunting her brain surged forward as her body acted on instinct. Out of fear…

It took three days before the madness faded this time. That was probably the longest time she was trapped in that state since she escaped Waller. Those three days were a fog as she only remembered the splitting head ache from the gun shot and her costume covered in blood.

Once the new broke on a ‘maniac’ who killed the Black Mask’s gang, Y/N knew she couldn’t leave Gotham yet until the buzz died down. She already knew the Bat’s sidekicks were looking for her, so she used whatever cash she had left to hide out in a cheap motel room.

“Fuck….” She groans as her trembling hands dropped her cell phone. Her eyes tried to dart around the aisles of the gas station she was currently hunting for food in. The remaining madness caused her senses to be on high alert and her anxiety to be high.

If she was back home, she could hideout in her apartment with her cat for a month before finding another job listing, but she was trapped in Gotham in a ratty motel.

So venturing to the crummy gas station for some junk food and beer is the next best thing. At least the disinterested cashier doesn’t pay her any mind. 4am on a weekday with a case of beer probably made her just appear to be a normal tweaker.

(Y/N) adjusts her sunglasses and makes sure her silver hair was well hidden under her zip-up’s hood before she brings her items to the counter. The zit faced teen gives her a look over, not hiding the attention he gave to her exposed cleave from the tank top she had showing.

“Ma’am, we don’t allow sunglasses inside the store.” He creaks out. Her (E/C) roll as she takes her sun glasses off. The door chimes as someone enters the store, but her attention was focused on the cashier. When he finally scanned her beer, his cracking voice asks,

“Do you have ID, Ma’am?”

Her hands go to her sweatpants pocket and only feels the cash she brought. Her mental anguish grows as she sighs in annoyance. Her fake id was in motel, and she technically doesn’t exist so she never had a real id.

Deciding to turn up the charm, she smiles sweetly at the teenager as she says, “I’m sorry, but I left my id back at my place. I’m sure you can tell I’m old enough, right?”

Her cleavage seemed to not work its charm as the teen rudely says,

“I can tell you’re old by your hair lady. But I need ID.”

Her eyes widen as a faint glow of green shows as she snaps at him. “I’m not old! I’m 24, you little p-!”

She stops herself as she takes a deep breath as she feels the madness subsided. She really didn’t wanna kill a kid over some cheap beer.

“Fine…I had a bad day so just get me the snacks.” She admits in defeat as she pulls out a hundred bucks. Just as she was going to pay, a hand drops some beef jerky and a case of beer on the counter beside her items. A deep voice cuts the air and causes a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“Add her stuff and beer to my order.” A thick, veiny hand presents the cashier with his ID and a credit card as she turns her head to see who it was that saved her evening.

Before her was a man who stood well over 6 feet tall. His shoulders were as broad as an old oak tree with muscles strong enough to take one down. His face wasn’t particularly the normal standard for attractiveness, but the strong jaw and scar gave him a handsome roughness that made her stomach tighten. It didn’t help that his nearly buzzed hair gave him a military sense, but his eyes were what made her heart stop in her chest. The beautiful green eyes that glowed an unearthly hue that she was familiar with.

She sees it in her eyes everyday. The scar of the Lazarus pit.

(Y/N) almost forgot where she was before the cashier cleared his throat. Her focus returned back to the counter as she grabs her stuff. Before she could run off, something made her stop to wait for the man. Whether it was curiosity or stupidity, she didn’t know.

Maybe she wanted to see what his deal was? Was he with Waller? The League of Assassins? Can he tell she was from the pit too? How different were they? How many times did he die and come back?

The opportunity to speak with someone who may can relate to her outweighed her wariness from her situation. But it was curiosity that killed the cat, right?

As the man starts heading for the door, she follows as she says,

“Excuse me?”

His eyes meet hers as a small smile as he says,

“Hey, I’m sorry for stepping in over there. I understand when stuff isn’t going your way.”

A warmth takes over her face as she says shyly, “No, it’s fine I just wanted to thank you. That was really sweet of you…”

As the two walk out, the stranger's friendly demeanor drops a little as he mumbles into the empty night air.

"So, you're the one who killed Victor Sionas..."

Her breath releases as she hears the pin drop. Her eyes dart around the parking lot as she sees the only vehicle is a old school motorcycle. She doesn't have any weapons and she wasn't sure if how skilled he was or if he had gained powers just like her from the pit.

With a frown, (Y/N) gruffs out, "Yeah...what are you gonna let me enjoy my last beer before you turn me in?"

She looks up to the man as their eyes meet. His eyes studying her as she keeps a tight grip on her bag. Maybe if he charges at her, she can swing the bag to his head and throw him off...

"No." He answers simply as he heads towards his bike. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she sputters out.

"No? I just admitted to murder and you're letting me go??"

"Yep." He answers over his shoulder as he loads his things into the compartment under his seat. Irritation fills her being instead of the relief she should have felt. She stomps towards him as she fusses,

"What's your deal? You buy me a beer and casually ask me if I commit murder? And you're gonna just leave? Did the pit mess you up that bad??" She snaps at him as she stands face to face, face to chest with him. Her eyes glowed eerily as he was filled, and a familiar shiver went down his spine.

His hands clap onto her shoulders as he pulls her close to him. A wave of coldness filled her body as the eerie glow covered his hands. The familiar feeling of the Lazarus pit filled her as he leaned into a whisper.

"The only reason I'm not hauling your pretty ass to Arkham right now is because I understand that it wasn't you when you killed them, Kitty..." His eyes glowed momentarily as a sad look briefly flashed into those green pools. "A petty mercenary who had no history of mass murder on file doesn't just jump to it without warning. The Lazarus Pit fucks up people to their core, so trust me when I say that I understand better than anyone how you feel..."

'Understand? How can he understand?' Her mind unravels as she looks up at him in disbelief. Has he ever woke up afraid of what he might have done the night before? Worry about when someone would come and shoot him in the head or stab him just to see if he could come back without being submerged anymore? Did Waller use him to heal her at the expense of his own pain just to throw him away to fend for himself???

Rage flashes through her as she roughly pulls away from him. Her bag falls to the asphalt as glass shatters. Her eyes are wild as old memories filled her. "Don't you dare say you understand me? You don't know shit about what I had to go through?"

His eyebrows frown together as he grimaces. A look of recognition and guilt flashes before he says to her. "You're right. I don't know what you went through before you died, but I do understand how you're feeling. The anxiety, the rage, the blood lust...I wanna help you."

She laughs bitterly as she figures out something about him. He only died once and was brought back. The skunk stripe in his hair should have given it away when she realized he was similar to her.

"Which time?" (Y/N) asked as she turned around and walked away. "I've died plenty of times to know that you will never understand..."

And she leaves the man alone in the parking lot as she storms off to her motel, not caring if he sees where she went or not. Her heart was beating out of control as she felt the wavering thoughts of going back to him and either hitting him or hugging him.

‘Maybe I need to rest some more….’

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Silence filled the museum as the dust bunnies and art laid undisturbed during their rest from the public eye. Her footsteps were a minimum as she walked through the shadowy parts of the building, trying to find what she was sent to retrieve.

After another week of hiding out, a job was directly pinged for her on the job board. Her eyes squinted at it at first because the offer was a little bogus to her.

‘Steal a painting, retrieve the hard drive inside, and bring it to the disclosed location in exchange for 2 Million dollars in unmarked bills.’

2 Million for a petty thief job that would have more suited Catwoman instead her seemed pretty unusual. But, at this point, her phyiscal cash funds were running low and she still was afraid of using her offshore accounts now that she knows that some zombie like her knew who she was.

Her masked eyes scanned the building’s plaza until she found what she was looking for. A large flowery portrait hanging just beyond the fountain. Her head tilts as she looks at it from afar.

‘Pretty… I wonder if I can find a print of it to buy to hang in my living room…’ Her steps remaining slow and cautious until she reaches the fountain. She looks under where the painting hung, trying not to get too close to it. There was no tag or podium that held the artist’s name or any indication that it was an actual art piece. It was most likely some print from a furniture store catalog or Etsy.

Her eyes rolled as she realizes that the listing was another trap. Obviously from someone who didn’t know shit about art or how to buy mercenaries on the black market.

As if on que, her ears buzzed as she heard the pure instinct take over as she whips around. Her hand immediately stops the staff about to hit her in the face as she elbows the smaller opponent in the stomach before slamming her fist in his cheek to knock him back. The guy gets thrown back a couple of feet as he gasped for the air she punches outta him.

She looks to the guy as she twirls his staff absent mindedly in her hand. His costume and smaller physique gave it away as to who he was. She remembers seeing a tv show story about him the previous night on the news. The boy wonder, Robin. At least the third version of him.

“Hey, tweety bird. You good?” She asked in a nonchalant tone. Her eyes unamused as she watches the kid cough up a lung as he looked up at her in shock that she wasn’t attacking him like he expected her to.

“You know, it’s dangerous to be on job listing boards like that.” She scolds him lightly as she walks around him and grabs his arm, gently helping him up and sitting him by the fountain. “There’s actual killers on that board who would have happily tried cutting you up for pulling a shitty fake job like this.”

The sidekick glares at her as he was already confused as he just witness the girl he was sure killed an entire gang just casually scold him. “Like how you did with Black Mask?”

Her eyes flashed with guilt before the nonchalant personality appeared again as she focused on throwing the staff up to make it spin. “It was self defense. He and his gang had it coming for all the child drug peddling and the lives he ruined.”

A heavier drop down of three other figures caught her attention as she looks around. Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Hood were surrounding the fountain, blocking her in. Her anxiety rising as she hides it with a now playful smile.

“Damn, didn’t realize little old me warranted for the whole family to come get me.” She says playfully. “Don’t worry I promise to be out of y’all’s city soon.”

“You still have to pay for your crimes.” Batgirl says as she steps forwards slightly. The feline mercenary tilts her head as she looks at them with now false concern.

“Me? A defenseless street cat?” She asked before laughing. “You can certainly try.”

Nightwing steps closer as her shoulders square up. Her defensive stance rising as she observes him. Way too lean to be the guy she met, and she can tell his face was more pretty boy looking.

“We wanna help you… but you still have to pay for what you’ve done even if you didn’t mean to.” He says softly.

‘So they know…that just means they are gonna be more defensive instead of offensive. They can’t risk killing me when they know I could rampage again.’ Her eyes shine as she laughs coldly at him.

“Oh, you wanna help me rot in prison?” She says as she finally looks at the Red Hood.

Right build, right height, and she’s sure if she can knock that helmet off, right face. That’s the man she met a week ago that affected her so badly. She knew she couldn’t let him get a good grab on her or she maybe toast.

She turns her now glowing eyes back to Nightwing as she smirks. “I think you would be better off letting me leave or else you can see what I actually do when I mean it.” She bluffs.

Movement nearly catches her off guard as Robin tries to rush her again. The staff in her hand flies into his face as she tries to move as Batgirl flies kicks her in the face. Her ears ring as the warm feeling of blood starts to run out of her nose. The cat catches the bat’s fist before she whips her in the face with another punch. She used the disorienting blow to slide under her legs and give a good kick to her knee. The distinctive pop and her cry lets her know she did dislocate the bone.

She remains in her crouched up position, ready to pounce. She can feel their eyes observing as her broken nose begins to heal as it disgustingly pops back into place as the blood retreats back to its original place like it was on rewind. Her wild eyes looks to them and makes notes of their stances.

Nightwing was ready to pounce on her. He stared at her like she was the wild animal that he knew she was. It was a look she was used to.

The Red Hood wasn’t even in an offensive or defensive position. He stood with his back straight as he watches her. Damn his stupid helmet from seeing his eyes, she wanted to know what he was thinking about. Was he bluffing too or was he trying to get a good feel on how to catch her.

Before Nightwing can start advancing on her, Red stops him with a step forward and raises hand. Nightwing looks confused as he asked him.

“What are you doing?” He seethes to him. “We gotta take her down, she already hurt Robin and Batgirl.”

“Out of self defense.” The Red Hood clarifies before chuckling. His modulated voice making the feline theft frown. “If she was dangerous like you think, she could have sliced Robin’s throat with those claws of hers when he first attacked. You guys were attacking first and she responded with non lethal force.”

Her eyes glared at the man as she stands up, slightly agitated. “So? Maybe I just don’t wanna kill a kid?”

Red tilts his head as he turns his attention to her. “Calm down, Kitty….if you surrender, I promise I won’t let them send you off to the pound.”

Nightwing looks at Red in horror as he basically promised to protect a wanted criminal. He didn’t seem to concerned by it. He even surprises his team by removing his helmet as he looks to the one they were chasing.

“I found your file on Amanda Waller’s network. Took me three days, but I know what she did to you, (Y/N).” The man she knew from the gas station.

The images of all the torture she endured flashed through her mind all at once as she remembers all Waller put her through for the sake of her cure.

Multiple executions to test the powers of the pit. Torture and savage punishments for the slightest disobedience. The nightmares and madness that fueled so many panic attacks. The feeling of her organs stolen to be put in that evil woman so she can use her healing factor to win against cancer while she spent days slowly dying and coming back to life over and over until her new organs regenerated back into her.

“Why?!” She snaps at him as rage filled her again. Her confusion over his insistence to help her made her so angry. Why would he wanna help her? Just because they were both dunked in a pool of Ra’s bath water?

“You’re the feared Red Hood! You’ve done worst shit than I’ve ever done and you are trying to act as my savior?!” She yells at him as she stomps towards him.

Nightwing tries to step between them, but Red keeps him away as she finally stood before him. Her hand rips off her goggles, revealing her face to him as she pokes into his chest. Her own chest tightening as her body shook. Her breath was tight as angry tears rolled down her face.

“Answer me, dammit! Why do you think you can save me?!”

“I don’t think I can save you.” He answers honestly. “I wanna help you save yourself…”

A look of grief passes over his eyes as he looks at the shorter woman. A memory of someone she didn’t know making his resolve strengthen.

“I was trapped in a state of anger for so long that I pushed everyone away that was trying to help me…it wasn’t until I lost the one person that tried to save me that I realized how much it meant to have someone just hold a hand out for me…” He says as he grips her shoulders. The expected coldness didn’t meet her. She felt him. The warmth seeping through his gloves into her suit. It felt…comforting….nice.

Her vision began tunneling as she felt her chest hyperventilating as she cries. His gentle words finally breaking her as he mumbles to her. “Let me help you fight the madness so you won’t be alone anymore…”

Her knees buckling as a sob broke through her. The warmth of his arms wrapping around her and pulling her into his chest made her cries so gut wrenching. Robin, Batgirl, and Nightwing watch in shock as they watched Jason, not only be the most gentle he’s ever been with someone, but see a stray tear fall from him eye.

As the two remained tied together as an unspoken bond was formed. A bond between two lost souls forcibly brought back into this world now feeling safe in each other’s warmth.

+++++++++++++++++++

Author’s Note: I’m gonna make a part 2 to this one because I actually like it. Let me know if you like this, if you hate it, or whatever. I’m trying to clear out my drafts so expect more Jason and other characters coming out either this week or next week.

++++++++++++++++++++

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY FANFICS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY CONSENT.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight x reader #red hood #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x you #jason todd x y/n #batman arkham series #jason todd x you #gotham knights #gotham knights! Jason Todd x Reader #GK!Jason Todd #simpingforheros

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honeypiehotchner · 2 years

Text

the open road (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Happy 5.5k 🤪🤪 I’ve literally had this idea in my head for a WHILE so I am mf glad to have it out. Enjoy ;))

Summary: All the times you and Hotch spent on the open road, and the one where you couldn’t help yourself.

Warnings: smut 18+ only blah blah we know the drill (pls!), car sex!! blowjob ;)) unprotected sex (don’t be like them, use a condom), lots of teasing, lots of fluff/smut adjacent dialogue

WC: ~2.8k

It started when you saw how Hotch drives when he’s in a hurry.

Your body flung against the car door despite your hold on the safety handle above you. Infuriated, you went to yell at Hotch to slow the fuck down, until you saw the look on his face, the way his hands gripped the wheel, the way his muscles flexed underneath his dress shirt.

Oh.

Oh, the thoughts you had were beyond inappropriate, especially considering the circumstances. You were rushing to catch the unsub, and you were having unholy thoughts about your boss.

You quickly focused your eyes back on the road ahead, chanting cleansing thoughts to calm your mind down from whatever the hell that was.

It worked in the moment, but only just. What truly didn’t help matters was that you somehow always ended up riding shotgun with Hotch, no matter what. Sometimes with Rossi in the backseat, but most times it’s just you two.

Which makes it impossibly hard to hide your staring.

On this particular day, you and Hotch went to a prison about an hour away to interview a serial killer on death row. This sort of thing is routine, but you’ve never tagged along for them. It’s usually Reid or Prentiss, but for some reason, Hotch decided to take you.

It was a boring day, to say the least. Traffic getting there was awful. The checks to get into the prison and then to the specific area took forever. To make matters worse, the killer didn’t really want to talk. He wanted to play games.

Needless to say, you feel like it was a waste of time. But you can’t say that to your boss.

Instead, on the ride back to Quantico, you say, “That was enlightening.”

Hotch scoffs, then laughs. “It was a nightmare.”

“Okay, well, I wasn’t going to say that.”

“It’s alright, you can say it.”

“Fine, it was boring as hell and a complete nightmare,” you blurt, glad to have gotten it off your chest.

Hotch laughs loudly this time. “You were holding that in.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hotch goes to reply, but stops himself when he has to slam on brakes. A sea of red taillights are ahead.

“That looks like a nightmare,” you groan, pulling up your GPS. “Two and a half hours to get home?”

“There must’ve been a wreck,” Hotch comments, angling his head to get a better look and that looks hotter than hell.

“We should probably get off at this exit,” you say. Thankfully, you’re in the far right lane, so exiting won’t be hard.

“Good plan,” he says, putting on the signal to get over to the ramp. “Can you navigate back to the BAU?”

“Sure,” you say. “Take a left up here.”

At first, the traffic is just as bad with everyone getting off at the same ramp to avoid the interstate, but soon it calms down.

You rant about the interview while navigating, not even realizing Hotch is replying to you until he compliments you.

“What?” you blink.

“I said you did good today,” he repeats. “You held yourself well. You should do more of these with me.”

“With you?”

“Well, I wouldn’t advise doing them alone.”

“Why not?”

“It’s better done in pairs,” he says, and that’s all he’ll elaborate.

So, you decide to tease him. “Sounds like you just want an excuse to spend more time with me.”

“I don’t need to make excuses to do that,” he replies smoothly, catching you off guard.

“Oh?”

“I chose you today on purpose,” he says. “Not as an excuse.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure what to make of that. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. And the drive is silent after that.

+++

Now, you look forward to riding shotgun with Hotch.

Maybe you shouldn’t, but you let yourself think those wildly inappropriate thoughts. And the more tame ones, which you’re able to voice, because he’s taken a liking to complimenting you, too.

“New haircut?” he says when you knock on his office door. He had barely glanced up at you from where he’s sitting, but one second was all he needed to see the difference.

“First one to notice,” you smile, stepping into his office.

“I just pay a lot of attention to you.” That’s enough to make you swoon, but he continues. “It looks good on you.”

“Thank you,” you reply. You study him for a moment. “New tie?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, lifting the piece of fabric. “A birthday gift this morning from Dave.”

Your eyes widen. “Is today your birthday?”

Sheepishly, he nods.

“Aaron!” you scold, blowing right past the fact that you used his first name. “Why didn’t you say?”

“It’s not a big deal, and serial killers don’t care about birthdays,” he says, grabbing his briefcase. He stands and buttons his jacket. “Are you ready?”

“I guess,” you mutter. “I’m mad that you scheduled this for your birthday.”

“Not for my birthday, it just happens to be on my birthday.”

“Same difference.”

“Alright, let’s go,” he gestures for you to go out the door. “Before we’re late.”

“We won’t be late,” you scoff.

“You just have to have the last word today, don’t you?”

You pause. Well. Those thoughts are definitely inappropriate, and you’re glad you stopped yourself from saying something you shouldn’t have. Especially with the rest of the team staring up at you and Hotch from their desks down in the bullpen.

They’ve been listening to your bickering for the past few minutes. They knew it was his birthday (courtesy of Reid), but they also know he isn’t a fan of huge celebrations.

Still, you’re upset about this, and Hotch has no idea why.

You bid the team goodbye as you and Hotch head out to the garage to pick up a BAU vehicle to take to the prison.

The drive there is smooth on the interstate. The interview is slightly less of a bore than the last few, but also not enlightening. Everything the killer said, you already knew.

Hotch decides not to take the interstate back to Quantico.

“It’ll only add half an hour,” he says. “I’m tired of seeing only interstate signs.”

“Suit yourself,” you say. Normally he can’t wait to get back to work.

You use this as the perfect time to corner him about his birthday, sure that he’ll regret his decision and get back on the interstate.

“How are you celebrating?” you ask.

“I’m not,” he shrugs.

“Why not?”

“Well, for starters, we have work tomorrow.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to be out late.”

“One drink won’t be late.”

“I’m old.”

You snort. “You’re not that old.”

“I’m 44.”

“Not old, I’d still go--” you stop yourself abruptly.

“You’d what?”

“Nothing,” you laugh. Shit shit shit. “You’re not old.”

“What were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” you cry, laughing awkwardly.

“Y/N.”

“Nothing, Aaron.”

“You can tell me.”

You shake your head. “I definitely cannot.”

“Y/N.”

“Aaron.”

You stare at him and he stares back at you, intermittently looking away to watch the road, but it’s wide open. No one is around. And he’s better at staring than you are.

“Fine,” you grumble. “I’d still…I’d still go for you.”

“Go for me?”

“Yes, like, have sex with you— with a 44 year old because 44 isn’t that old— Please watch the road and stop looking at me.”

He grins, but he looks back at the road. One car passes. You’re mortified. You want to jump out of the window and roll into the ditch and stay there.

“Will you say something?” you blurt.

He laughs, and that makes you grimace. This is not how you pictured this conversation happening.

“Thank you. I think,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you huff. “Even though I shouldn’t have said anything. That was inappropriate.”

“It wasn’t inappropriate,” he replies, and his hand does what it has done this entire trip -- and drives in the past. He gestures into your space on the passenger side, each time nearly connecting with your arm. This time, his fingers graze your skin.

“Okay…” you hesitate for a moment, keeping your arm on the console, not inching away from his touch.

He doesn’t move his hand, either, and it’s strange. His knuckles brush down your arm, over your wrist and to your fingers where he rests his hand over yours. You can feel his own hesitation, wondering how many lines this is crossing and how many rules are being broken.

“So, if I-- if someone my age,” he corrects himself, “asked you on a date, you would go for it?”

“Absolutely,” you reply a little too quickly.

“It seems like you’ve thought about this.”

“I have,” you admit.

“Good to know,” he says, smirking. And that’s the end of it.

+++

It’s a slow progression, your relationship with Hotch. The many car rides together on the open road provide for perfect moments. Here, with no one around, the two of you can be affectionate without worry.

He holds your hand while he drives, occasionally bringing your knuckles to his lips for a kiss. You play with his fingers, tracing his knuckles, the lines on his palm.

Sometimes, when he’s feeling bold, he’ll rest his hand on your thigh. The first time it happened, arousal paralyzed you. Now, it makes you want to climb in his lap.

He has to know what he’s doing.

He squeezes your thigh and you’re done for, squirming in your seat like it’s uncomfortable.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” you mutter.

“What?”

“You have your hand on my thigh and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”

“Do you want me to move?”

“No, you-- Let me just--” You move his hand, only so you can give him a taste of his own medicine. You place your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch, and his jaw tenses immediately. “See?”

“I see.”

You squeeze your hand, digging your fingertips in, and you see him swallow hard. “Want me to move my hand?” you ask playfully. You begin to take your hand away and he grabs your wrist, keeping your hand right where it is.

Oh?

He says nothing about it, so neither do you. The drive continues in silence, only the radio playing lowly.

After a while, you notice that not a single car has passed by. The two of you seem to be alone again on this road.

Your skin is burning with the anticipation of what you want to do. Your fingers twitch against his leg, wanting to move further up his thigh, but resisting.

He’ll tell you to stop. If it’s too much. You should just go for it.

So you do.

In a moment of reckless boldness, you stare straight ahead at the road and slowly creep your hand up his thigh.

You hear him inhale sharply, but he doesn’t stop you.

You trace slow circles on the fabric of his pants, each time inching closer and closer to where you want to be. His belt will be in the way, though. That’ll have to go first.

“You should tell me to stop,” you murmur, letting your fingers travel to his belt. You begin to tug on it, getting his attention. “Aaron?”

“Keep going,” he says, through a tight jaw. He glances over at you but then back at the road. His left hand tightens on the wheel.

He wore the belt that snaps, so you’re able to open it swiftly. Unbuttoning his pants, you tug the zipper down. He’s already hard, but not fully just yet. His restraint is unbelievable to you, but you know his body well enough now to get around it.

He adjusts his hips to give you better access, but accidentally revs the car when he does.

“Relax,” you chuckle. “You can’t run us off the road.”

“I won’t,” he says firmly.

You hum as you tease him some more, lightly touching him, smirking as he grows. Easy.

He’s uncomfortable, reaching down to move his underwear. If you weren’t so pleased with yourself, you would’ve swatted his hand away. But instead you let him do it, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around him.

“Your hands are always so cold,” he laughs, his voice deeper now.

“You’re always so warm,” you retort, stroking him gently. “Is there anyone around?”

He looks in the rearview and then shakes his head. “No.”

“Good,” you smirk, unbuckling your seatbelt. You lean over the console, glad that this model has such a flat design.

“Shit,” he cusses, realizing what you plan to do. He should’ve known better than to assume otherwise, honestly.

You take him into your mouth with a low hum, loving the way the muscles in his legs tense immediately. Only the tip rests on your tongue, yet you feel his heart rate beginning to pick up.

He talks a big game, acting nonchalant and cool, until your mouth is on him. He’s said before that he loses it all with you. There is no holding back.

Taking him deeper, you feel him hit the back of your throat sooner than expected, causing you to gag. This angle is different, and his hand reaches for your shoulder, a gentle touch, asking if you’re alright.

You suck him down again, better prepared now, and his hand tenses, lifting off your skin to not leave bruises, even though you’d like him to (but you haven’t told him that just yet).

To compromise, you grab his hand and place it on the back of your head, looking up at him. He glances down in surprise, meets your eyes, and groans, letting out the sound he’s been holding inside.

His hand pushes on your head, the pressure igniting something inside of you. You adjust to get a better angle, pulling back to swirl your tongue over his head.

The car speeds up again, but he catches himself, not wanting you to stop. His hand remains at the back of your head, keeping you in place, as if you’d go anywhere anyway.

“I’m gonna have to pull over,” he mutters, barely getting the words out.

You shake your head and he groans loudly. Lifting up, you look at him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His head hits the headrest and he sighs, chuckling deliriously. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You say that every time,” you tease.

He continues driving, determined now to not pull over. The thrill goes away if he isn’t driving.

Continuing as you were, you chase his release, desperate to hear him. You take him into your mouth fully again, swallowing with a contented hum.

You feel it when he begins to unravel, the way he twitches in your mouth, the way his abdomen tenses. He keeps your head pinned down, only lightly, but enough for you.

His climax is unexpected even for him, spilling down your throat without much more than a few seconds warning. He lifts his foot from the gas, willing his eyes to stay open enough to see the road.

You swallow it all, coaxing more from him, relishing in his little noises. If it weren’t for the console finally digging in a little too hard to your ribcage, you would stay.

You lift your head with a satisfied smile, squeaking in surprise when his hand on the back of your head pulls you into him for a kiss.

“The road!” you mumble through kisses, keeping an eye on it, even though it’s still empty.

“Fuck the fucking road,” he mutters, swerving to pull off to the side. He puts the car in park and pulls you back in.

“Aaron!” you laugh, letting him haul you into his lap.

“I can’t drive and do this,” he says, putting both hands on your face and smothering you in a kiss.

He grows harder underneath you, especially now that you’re sitting in his lap, grinding your hips against him.

“Thank god these windows are tinted,” you chuckle as he practically rips your pants off of your legs. You hear a seam rip and you give him a tired look. “Seriously?”

“I’ll buy you more,” he says, finishing the job and ripping them entirely. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Whore,” you snicker, but it’s broken off when he enters you in one swift movement.

“You were saying?” he whispers, smirking against your cheek. You can’t answer and he starts to grin, nipping at your jaw. “That’s what I thought.”

+++

When the two of you return to Quantico two hours late, the team starts to wonder what is really going on.

Each time, your excuse is traffic, stopping to get food, gas, or all of the above. But this time, there is no hiding the obvious.

Meaning, the way Hotch has to come into the office to grab your go bag from your desk so you’ll have a pair of fucking pants to wear into the building.

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

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miryum · 2 months

Text

"Tactical Village"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Do you recognise any of these men?” Y/n asked a woman who was wearing a ‘Visitor’ tag.

The woman shook her head, saying, “I was hiding in the bathroom stall so I didn’t see his face. But, I heard him. He was singing along to the track.”

“Do you remember what he was singing?”

“Oh my gosh, no, Y/n,” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Don’t do it….” Y/n chuckled along with him. Captain Wayne had assigned a detective to Y/n whenever she interrogated a perp. There had been an… incident.

Cass didn’t know who gave Y/n a guitar, but the woman was currently torturing a perp with her terrible playing of the instrument, accompanying the sound with loud, off-tune screaming.

The woman shrugged. “I think it was that song ‘I Want it That Way.’ ”

Y/n hummed. “Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar.”

“Maybe a little too familiar,” Jason muttered. He thought of all the times Y/n had agonised both the criminals and detectives on duty with their songs.

“Number one,” Y/n ignored Jason, pressing a button for the intercom. “Could you please sing the opening to ‘I Want it That Way?’”

“Really? Uh… okay,” Perp 1 said. “You are… my fire?”

Y/n glanced over to the witness who shook her head. “Number two, keep it going.”

“The one… desire.” Perp 2 squinted to Perp 1, looking for confirmation that this was actually happening.

“Number three?” Y/n nodded along to the nonexistent beat.

“Believe… when I say?”

“Number four!” Y/n called out, grinning widely, leaning on the desk.

“I want it that way.”

“TELL ME WHY!” Y/n sang loudly into the microphone.

“Ain’t nothing but a heartache,” all the suspects chanted along.

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Ain’t nothing but a mistake…”

“Now number five,” Y/n crooned to the melody.

Perp 5 raised his hand, losing himself in the music. “I never wanna hear you say,”

“WHOO!” Y/n shouted out.

“I want it that way,” everyone finished together.

“Chills! Literal chills!” Y/n shivered, giggling.

“It was number five,” the woman said. “Number five killed my brother.”

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that,” Jason murmured. “And, Y/n, just so you know, you pressed the ‘speaker’ button. Everyone in the precinct could hear that.”

“Ohhh… whoops?”

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Y/n high-fived Tim on her way in the door. “Happy Tactical Village Day, Cass! Happy Tactical Village Day!”

“L/n, I'm surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises,” Wayne commented.

“Why, ‘tis the most fun day of the year, my good sir! Something you wouldn't understand, because you're not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes, but my software is due for an upgrade,” Wayne retorted.

”When you play along with the robot jokes it ruins my enjoyment of them,” Y/n pouted.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Anyway, Tactical Village Day is awesome!” Y/n continued with her rant. “We get to field test a bunch of cool, new weapons and there's always a fun training situation. Last year's was prison break. It got uber violent. It was like being in an action movie.” Her eyes went wide with excitement.

Y/n was using a piece of her hair to slowly chisel away at a metal bar of a cell.

“Y/n?” Steph called from the other end of the cell. “Cass and I dug a tunnel. Wanna use it?”

“Go on without me,” Y/n said in a deep, gruff voice. “I’ll make due by myself.”

“It's also a good opportunity for us to bond as a unit,” Steph said, reminding them all the true reason of Tactical Village Day.

“Everybody gets into it,” Y/n exclaimed.

Jason kicked down a door and he and Dick rushed through it, screaming as they stormed the room.

It turned out to be a supply closet.

“Suffice to say, the sixty-sixth has never had a perfect run,” Dick chuckled and scratched his neck.

“Yeah, but Y/n has been the finalist for coolest kill two years in a row,” Stephanie said. “Every precinct sends their footage and all the cops vote.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Y/n waved her away. “All you win is a children's tennis trophy, so…”

“You desperately want that trophy, don't you?” Wayne asked.

“So badly.” Y/n growled. “I will stop at nothing to obtain my prize. I'll shoot all of you in the face if I have to!”

“Go team,” Damian said monotonously.

“Okay, so,” Y/n slid into the seat next to Jason’s on the bus ride over. “I’ve figured out my fictional persona for this year’s shooty-shooty rootin-tootie.”

“How the hell do you come up with these names?” Jason muttered, mostly to himself.

“I am… Gina Thunderhouse. Russian spy, weapons master, and total badass. I even have cool Russian accent.” she said in a bad accent. “Babushka. Moscow. Rasputin.”

“You know ‘babushka’ means ‘grandma,’ right?”

“Whatever. At least I have a persona, Mr. I’m-not-even-trying-to-be-fun.”

“This training isn’t about fun,” Jason frowned. “It’s about honing our skills to be better officers.”

“We shoot paint at pretend bad guys!” Y/n cried. “How is that not fun?!”

“I’m gonna go talk to Dick,” Jason said, standing up. “You have fun thinking of more Russian words.”

Steph quickly filled Jason’s empty seat, grinning sharply. “Seems like you two are getting cosy!”

“Come on, Brown. Not this again!”

“You gotta admit there’s spark.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” Y/n exclaimed. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“And Leia was like a sister to Luke,” Steph sang out.

“Okay, that’s not fair. Luke didn’t know! No one knew.”

Steph shrugged and let the conversation go, though a smile flitted through her lips. Soon, the sixty-sixth arrived at the building where Tactical Village Day would commence. Walking in the doors, duffel bags full of gear and weapons in hand, Y/n shouted out, “The six-six is in the house!”

“Six-six!” The rest of the crew echoed.

“Hey! Biz!” Y/n greeted an old friend. “They upgraded you from bystander to perp! That’s great, man. Still gonna blow your brains out though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Biz waved back.

“Jason Todd?” A voice spoke from a crowd of detectives and cops. “Is that you?”

“Rose?” Jason’s head whipped towards the voice. “It’s been so long! What’re you doing here?”

“I’m with the seventeenth now,” she explained. “We’re paired with you guys today.” Rose was a tall, slim, blonde girl whom it seemed Jason connected with very well.

“Wha- what’s going on here?” Y/n shuffled up to them, Steph close behind.

“Oh, Y/n, this is Rose Wilson.” Rose held out a hand and Y/n firmly shook it. “Rose, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the life of the six-six.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s lower back, pushing her slightly forward.

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said.

“Likewise,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a smile.

“Well, I gotta go,” Rose hugged Jason. “I’ll see you later, though. Great seeing you.”

“You too,” Jason returned the hug.

Once Rose had left with a wave, Y/n turned to Jason and questioned, “So… who was that?”

“That was Rose,” Jason said as if it was the most obvious thing. “We went on a couple of dates last year.”

“You did?” Steph asked. Y/n had forgotten she was behind her. Cass joined them, silently backing up her friends.

“Yeah, I liked her, but she was stationed in Metropolis so I didn’t get to see much of her. I guess it just fizzled out.”

“Right,” Y/n gawaffed. “That's the girl you said the lame stuff about. Like ‘she's a good listener’ and shit.” Internally, she felt bad for deriding Rose- she seemed like a nice person- but she couldn’t help but take a rag at Jason.

“I'm sorry, what do you look for in a relationship?” Jason asked snarkily.

“I don't know,” Y/n shrugged. “Real stuff. Shape of their ass. Sense of dark humour.”

“Of course.” Jason rolled his eyes and stalked away.

“Isn’t it weird that Jason dated that girl?” Y/n scoffed, hands on her hips.

Steph raised her brows, mirroring L/n’s stance. “Why do you care so much?” Her voice rose higher with each word.

“Okay, first of all, your insinuating voice is way too high,” Y/n accused. “It's weird. And second, I don't care. I'm just wondering why he would like her.”

“Whatever you say,” Steph said, voice still high-pitched and she shuddered. “Okay, yeah, I hear it now. I sound like Cat from Sam and Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” Cass agreed. “But, I agree. L/n needs to confront her feelings for Todd and woman up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and excused herself from the conversation, claiming the need to talk to Tim.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Y/n squealed, holding a parallel gun. “You can shoot around corners. I love guns.” She sighed and said, “I'm gonna make such a good mom someday.”

Jason shook his head, lips pursing. “Not even gonna touch that.”

“Not even gonna touch that: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, then chuckled. “Come on, man. At least make me work for it.”

Soon, it was time for the sixty-sixth to run the simulation. The team was standing by the door, waiting to be let in when Y/n slid by on her knees, making a dramatic entrance. “Gina Thunderhouse had arrived.” Her voice was, once again, accented in a bad Russian tone.

“That was majestic,” Tim joked.

“Custom kneepads to help me win coolest kill,” Y/n patted her knees, showing off her kneepads. After an awkward silence, she asked, “What, don't tell me Thunderhouse is the only lady here with a signature move!”

Tim shrugged. “I was bouncing around the idea where when I'm out of ammo, I release my mag and dropkick or chuck it into someone's throat.”

“You know how people hold their guns sideways to look cool?” Dick asked. Y/n nodded and the sarge continued, “It got me thinking. What if you held your gun upside-down?” He demonstrated it, flipping his gun upside down, finger still on trigger.

Before Y/n could respond with how that was an incredibly stupid idea, a loud buzzer sounded and another precinct marched out the door, looking victorious.

“Seventeenth’s done.” Y/n muttered and Stephanie stepped closer to her. “Heads up.”

“Hey. How'd it go?” Jason greeted Rose.

Rose smiled and replied, “it went well. We had a perfect run! And not to brag, but I think we just set a GCPD course record for time.”

“Definitely a brag,” Y/n huffed quietly.

“A course record?” Jason’s brows shot up. “That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Rose looked up at him. “I'm psyched. By the way, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Jason called after her as she walked away.

“All right, huddle up.” Y/n pulled Jason away by the strap of his vest and into a group huddle. “This is how it's going down.”

“What happened to your accent, Gina?” Steph asked teasingly, knowing full well what was going on.

“Forget that shit.” Y/n frowned. “We're taking this seriously. Okay, on three: Let's break that course record and be the best precinct here! One, two, three!”

The group repeated, “let’s break that course record and… uh…” They all trailed off, mumbling different things as they forgot the words.

“Yeah, I agree, it was too many words.” Y/n grimaced. “Let’s just do it.”

“Okay, I've got the details for this simulation.” Dick sat in front of a console, radioing in to everyone’s headsets. “A group of armed men entered an embassy and took hostages.”

“Which embassy?” Y/n couldn't help but ask. She shook her head, reminding herself to stay focused. “Doesn't matter. We’ll just say, Canada. They’re too nice to say no if someone asks to take them hostage. So take out the perps, clear the civilians, rescue the hostages?”

“Affirmative,” Dick confirmed. “This is an active shooter situation. You're cleared for maximum engagement.”

“‘Maximum engagement?’” Y/n scoffed. “What is this, Jurassic Park: The Ride?”

Dick didn’t answer, commanding, “Brown and Drake, perimeter security. Brown, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, but also doesn’t die from caffeine overdose. He only got two and a half hours last night.”

“Got it,” Brown said, yanking Tim’s cup of coffee away from him.

“L/n and Todd, you're the assault team. I'll be in the command centre. Cain, I need you to do surveillance on the places I can’t see.”

“On it.” Cass disappeared into the vents and Dick stared after her, wondering how she didn’t end up as an assassin-for-hire.

“All right, focus up,” Y/n said into the comms. “We got eighteen minutes and forty-one seconds to break this record. No screwing around.”

“Wow, you're really not gonna do a character?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I am playing a character,” Y/n said. “A no-nonsense detective whose only goal is to set this course record. Her name is Y/n L/n. She’s a kid who grew up with an absent father and just wants to prove herself. I don't have time for her full back-story. Sarge, please, let’s start.”

“Okay, guys, and go!” Dick clicked a stopwatch and the team rushed in.

Y/n zipped around a corner, gun drawn. When she didn’t see anyone, she called, “clear!”

She and Jason repeated the actions, peeking around corners and yelling, “clear.”

Y/n turned around a corner and fired two shots at a cop labelled “PERP.”

“Nice,” Jason commented.

Y/n ignored him and said, “okay, only three perps left. We might actually do this.”

Dick’s voice came in through the comms. “L/n, Cain has intel that there’s a hostage in room 409.”

“Copy that.” Y/n inhaled and said, “I love how it always smells like fresh paint here. Reminds me of how often I moved as a child.”

“No talking,” Jason reminded her. “You'll give away our position.”

“Look out!” Y/n was staring over his shoulder. She quickly lifted her gun and fired a shot at someone.

Jason shielded away from the noise. “That was close.” He inspected Y/n and said, “there's paint in your hair.” He reached up and smoothed the paint away. “Thanks for shooting that guy.”

“My pleasure.” Y/n followed him around the corner and stared at a door marked 409. “The hostages are in there. Intel says there's a couple of heavily-armed perps with them.”

Jason asked, “you want to wait for backup?”

Y/n shook her head. “No time. We only have a minute to win the record.” She sighed and declared, “I'm going in.” At Jason’s scandalised look, she reassured him, smiling. She gently took Jason’s gun from his hands. “Don't worry. I have a plan on how to beat them: Give up.”

“What?!”

“Trust me,” Y/n said. “Or don't.” She shrugged. “I'm doing it anyway.” Jason’s heart dropped, watching her walk cautiously into the room. She announced, hands holding her guns in the air, “GCPD! Don't shoot!” Inside the room were two perps, guarding three hostages. “I'm here to surrender,” Y/n told them. The hostages looked at her as if she was crazy. “Let the hostages go and take me instead,” she said.

“Not happening.” One of the perps growled. “Drop your weapon!”

”Okay, okay, my fingers are off the triggers.” Y/n agreed, dangling her guns off her fingers. “I'm just gonna slowly put them down in front of me….” She started crouching down. Jason watched, aghast, from the doorway. “I’m slowly putting 'em…” Suddenly, she twisted her fingers around and pulled the triggers, shooting the two perps in the chest.

“Goddamn it!” One of the perps yelled.

“Dick, time!” Y/n shouted into her comm.

“18 minutes, 28 seconds. You broke the record!” Dick cried back.

“Yes! Nice!” Jason ran in and hugged Y/n tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She squealed and hugged him back.

Jason paraded her out of the room and they greeted their teammates to a chorus of cheers, applause, and claps on the back.

“Ah, there she is!” Dick called.

“The record is ours.” Y/n spread her arms.

“I still can't believe your final kill came from Dick’s move.” Tim shook his head, looking disgusted.

“You went upsy-downsies?” Dick gasped. “That's what I call it, because you hold the gun upside-down.”

Y/n sighed. “Yes, Richard, I went upsy-downsies. And none of you shall ever speak of it again.”

“But I want to speak of it,” Jason whined. “You looked really stupid.”

“Alright, let's go.” Dick grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

“Nice! Here we go, six-six!” Y/n held her hand up to Jason for a high-five, face flushed with excitement.

Jason grimaced. “Actually, Rose asked me to dinner, so maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?”

Y/n’s face dropped. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. Of course. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” Jason nodded and left, giving goodbyes as he walked away.

“What's going on, Gina Thunderhouse?” Cass smirked, sidling up with Steph.

Y/n muttered, “what do you think Jason sees in Rose?”

“So you do like him!” Steph accused, smiling slyly.

“I'm just curious!” Y/n tried to defend. “I mean, she's okay-looking and a good cop….” But aren’t I okay-looking and a good cop? “Also, she set the course record, but that's nothing. I broke it, like, 20 minutes later.”

“You want to know why he went out with her and not you?” Cass asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Y/n swallowed harshly.

“Because she actually asked him out,” Steph finished.

Captain Wayne raised a brow, looking down at Y/n’s desk. “You won coolest kill?” He gestured to the small tennis trophy Y/n was staring at.

“No- not by a long shot.” She chuckled dryly. “But Dick bought it for me ‘cause he felt like I should’ve won. But he’s bias, of course.”

“Of course.” Captain Wayne smiled softly. “Detective, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain,” Y/n mumbled. “Can- can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, L/n.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne. “How’d you know Clark was the one?” she whispered.

Bruce sighed and offered, “come into my office. And bring your trophy.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n followed Bruce into his office. She sat down and Bruce took the trophy from her, placing it on his desk proudly. “When I first got here, Damian told me of your predicament.” When Y/n’s mouth fell open in betrayal, Bruce held up his hand. “I would’ve figured it out either way. I used to be a detective, after all. But what he didn’t know is if Todd liked you back. However, based on months of observation, I’ve noticed, for lack of a better simile, that Todd follows you like a lost puppy. I should know; I acted the same way towards Clark before we started dating.”

“Did you ask him out?” Y/n asked.

Bruce let out a laugh. “God, no. I was too scared. But that’s not an invitation to make the same mistakes I did. I lost a lot of time with Clark because of my anxiety.”

“Duly noted, Captain. Thank you.”

“Anytime, L/n. And good job in the Tactical Village.”

“Thank you, sir.”

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #detectives au #brooklyn 99 #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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aimless-passerby · 3 months

Text

Role Reversal/The Shire Falls Instead from @bagginshieldweek24 prompts but it is actually this idea I've got recently.

#bagginshield #bagginshieldw24 #sorry guys I had to blur you because I am too tired #and #I can't draw ponies/horses so they don't look derpy #I'm sorry xD #'chanting and ranting' tag

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jjuniehao · 2 years

Text

[11:23 pm]: yoon jeonghan

you love your boyfriend, you really do. there’s close to nothing you wouldn’t do for him, and every day you get to wake up next to him, kiss him, have him love you back in the same way is a day you’re eternally grateful for.

you have to keep reminding yourself of that, a constant chant of, i love him, i love him, i love him, i love him, echoing in your head.

because if you didn’t, you’d personally shove each and every single one of the 1000 puzzle pieces in every orifice on his body.

“why would you start with a random chunk? everyone knows that you start with the edges first!” jeonghan smirks a little at the exasperation in your voice, rummaging through the piles of puzzle pieces you had sorted through and put aside for later.

“but look, i can see the petals so clearly. why would i wait when i can see which pieces go together?” you stare at him incredulously, watching him break apart pieces you had assembled already, only to try to make them fit with his puzzle pieces.

“han, what are you doing?! this obviously doesn’t fit—“ you reach over to snatch the pieces from him, and your boyfriend’s quick reflexes be damned, because instead of puzzle pieces, you end up halfway sprawled over his lap, fist tightly clutching onto the sleeve of his hoodie.

jeonghan looks at you with one brow raised, almost mockingly smirking at you while he keeps trying to make two very ill-fitting pieces fit somehow, “hey now, it’s puzzle time. whatever you’re planning over there can wait for later.”

you groan, ears turning red, “you’re insufferable. why am i so in love with you?” jeonghan laughs, fricking laughs, at that and chucks the puzzle pieces to the side. he wraps his arms around you, pulling a quiet gasp from you, pulls you closer to him and lets himself fall back on the couch with you now sprawled on top of him.

he grins at you, and if you weren’t still so irked about the whole puzzle drama, you’d notice the fondness in his features, something that’s reserved for you exclusively. “jeonghan—“

before you can start your rant about proper puzzle etiquette, your face is pulled down for a kiss. and another. and another.

“you were right. you start from the edges. you’re just so easy to provoke and so cute when you get all huffy,” he coos, another kiss placed to your lips. “forgive me, yeah? my puzzle master.”

“hmm, maybe. i’ll think about it,” you hum, nuzzling into his neck and letting out a satisfied sigh. jeonhan’s hand comes up to run along your back, making you relax against him. “what about your puzzle?” he lightly pinches your sides, making you squirm in his hold.

“you’re better at cuddles than at puzzles.” there’s an infatuated smile on his face and he just hums in agreement, deciding that he’d much rather have you cuddled up to him like this anyways.

part of the bucketlist boyfriends series.

*i can’t link it since it messed with the tags :(

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risustravelogue · 2 years

Text

Overgrowth

Summary:

Your overprotective best friend wants to see how your crush treats you with his own eyes.

Featuring:

Best Friend!Tighnari, Alhaitham

Tone:

*chants* Fluff! Fluff! Fluff! Fluff! … with a hint of angst :)

Updated note:

This was originally posted on December 25, 2022, thus the Merry Christmas note. I am not sorry for tagging you again, my awesome brainrot pal Rin and lovely cuz nire 💚 I'm aware of the recent case with Tighnari's EN VA. I want to say that I play Genshin using the JP dub and thus Tighnari's personality in this fic and in my mind is based on that interpretation (if that helps). I would like to extend my sincere well-wishes to the victims and hope this will get resolved soon. Original post here.

Original note:

Merry Christmas!! This fic was written for the Elemental Supercharge collab hosted by @zhongrin. My entry: dendro + dendro = overgrowth. Thank you so much to @nire-the-mithridatist for the beta! Love you cuz 💚 Enjoy~! :)

🔗 AO3 | masterlist 🔗

To say Tighnari is your good friend is an understatement.

You first met him in the House of Daena when you were still teenagers, his ears twitching behind the thick encyclopedia he was reading up for an upcoming exam. You’d seen him a couple of times at the same spot by then—and you, who’d never seen a fennec fox hybrid before in your life, were intrigued. Extremely intrigued. So you did what every curious teenager would do when they met one of his kind: reach out to touch his ears.

“I can hear you, you know,” he said.

You yelped, startled. “Hear me? But I don’t—how did you hear my hand?”

“Aha, so you were reaching for my ears,” he said, looking up from his encyclopedia. A proud smirk was plastered on his lips. “My hearing is very good, you know. I could hear your clothes rustling over the books.”

“With those ears? Yeah, of course,” you blurted out. Tighnari’s eyes narrowed in a questioning look. You fidgeted nervously. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

After a few moments of silence, Tighnari burst into a giggle.

“You’re very straightforward. I like you,” he said. “Everyone else tiptoes around me when it comes to my ears and tail—but not you.” He stood up and offered his right hand to you. His tail swished from side to side in excitement.

“My name’s Tighnari. What’s your name?”

You accepted his hand and told him your name with a sheepish smile on your lips. “Nice to meet you, Tighnari.”

From then on, the two of you have been almost inseparable. He’s a good listener, and not just because of his fox ears. He listens to you when you need to rant—every time. More importantly, he knows when to give advice and when to just give you a pat on the back. When you had a bad breakup with your ex a few years ago, he dragged you to Gandharva Ville for a week-long getaway. He tended to you like one of his patients, but instead of herbal brews, he brought you light novels, chocolate, and your favorite comfort foods: cheese and his mushroom hodgepodge.

You feel truly blessed for having him as your best friend.

—

Alhaitham was your classmate in the course on ancient puzzles that you took as a Haravatat student.

He was known as a top student, and he was very popular with the teachers. Even so, nobody wanted to team up with him for group assignments, because one, he preferred to work alone, and two, he never failed to irritate others with his refusal to pretty up his words. But you had always found him intriguing. He didn’t talk or interact much with other people—partly because they tried to avoid being at the receiving end of his sharp tongue—yet he always managed to figure out how they think after spending only a short time with them. You came up with two possibilities: either he had very strong observation skills, or he had a network of spies in the Akademiya.

You decided that the first explanation seemed more plausible.

So when your teacher told the class to pair up for your final project, you naturally went to him. After all, someone with strong observation skills would be invaluable in solving ancient puzzles.

You walked up to his seat at the end of the class. You noticed that he was reading a book—and archons know you hated it when someone interrupted your reading time—but this was important.

“Hi, Alhaitham,” you greeted.

A pair of eyes with colors like red roses floating in water full of fluorescent moss looked up at you in annoyance. “Yes? What do you want?”

You fidgeted visibly in front of him, trying to appeal to his softer side. “I’d like to team up with you for the final project. The class has an even number of students, as you well know. Do you mind?”

After thinking for a second, he answered with a curt “No,” then reverted his gaze to the book he was reading. You smiled and sat beside him.

Thus began your collaboration with Alhaitham. For the months you worked with him on your project, you never found him to be irritating. He was just always honest when asked about his opinion. He was blunt, yes, but he never did it to annoy you on purpose, which was a good thing in your book. You also found him easier to understand than most people, as his thoughts and actions were always governed by logic. His actions might be unacceptable for most people sometimes, but he always appreciated your feedback on what he said or did.

On the last day of the course, the teacher praised the project both of you have worked so hard on. You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Alhaitham—now familiar with your antics when excited—wordlessly put his hand over yours and squeezed your fingers, stopping you from doing that in the middle of the classroom. You blushed. He’d never done that before—he would usually tap on your arm instead. That was the first time you felt his hand directly on your skin—he was warm, his palms rough and calloused due to handling swords, and his grip on your fingers was both gentle and strong at the same time. His touch lingered for a few moments before he pulled away, leaving you staring at his profile, questions about his intentions rushing one after another through your mind. You had to shake your head violently to refocus yourself.

That evening, you celebrated by having dinner at Lambad’s together. After some small talk, you braved yourself to tell him that you’d still like to meet up with him.

“Do you mind if I come to find you in the library sometimes?” you asked.

A tender smile bloomed on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat.

Since when is he so beautiful?

“Sure,” he said. “I would like that very much.”

It was at that moment you realized you had a crush on him. You found yourself trying to spend more time with him—in the library, in the café, wherever you could find him—and you even attended his thesis defense in a show of support.

However, your feelings for him never bore fruit—you lost touch with him after he graduated, two years before you did. He became busier each day and didn't have the time to hang out in the library anymore. You tried to not pay too much attention to it—it was a fleeting feeling anyway, you thought. You eventually got a very sweet boyfriend in your thesis buddy, but he cruelly broke up with you right after your thesis was completed. You were used, then discarded like a broken toy. Your heart was in a million pieces, and you thought you’d never recover if Tighnari had never intervened. With a heart full of scars, you never thought you’d ever fall in love again.

But then you joined a book club—Alhaitham’s book club. Overjoyed at reuniting with your old friend, you told him your latest updates, including your bad breakup with your ex. He listened intently, then said, “I’m sorry,” while squeezing your hands to comfort you. You found his touch to still be the same—gentle, yet strong. After that heart-to-heart, you can’t help but notice that for someone who claimed he didn’t like to be touched, he touches you a lot. A light tap on your shoulder, a pull on your wrist or arm to steady you when you were being clumsy with your steps, and his fingertips lingering on your skin—you’d never seen him be so physical with others, and sometimes you wondered if he did that on purpose.

As someone whose primary love language is physical touch, falling in love with him again because of those little touches was inevitable.

—

“Nari.”

“Yes?”

“I think I love him.”

Tighnari nearly falls out of his chair.

“You what?”

“Love,” you repeat, “I love Alhaitham.” Tighnari gives you the questioning look. “Well, I do. And I think he likes me, too,” you continue.

He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Look, my dear friend. I love you and all, but I have to say this. Being in the same book club with him is one thing. Falling in love with him and thinking that he likes you, however…” He shakes his head. “I get that you once had a crush on him, but how did you even arrive at that conclusion?“

You think for a while.

“Well,” you say, “I find myself thinking about him every day—I dare say even every minute. And there are the lingering touches—”

Tighnari’s ears twitch in curiosity. “I thought you said he doesn’t like to be touched?“

“He doesn’t,” you say. “That’s why I think he thinks of me differently.”

Tighnari sighs again.

“It does sound like you’re in love with him, and that he likes you more than he likes other people,” he says. “You’re hopeless. But I’m afraid that you’ll only get hurt.”

“Why?”

Tighnari clicks his tongue. “He’s a purely rational person. And love is irrational.”

“Then why does he always listen to me when I’m whining about—about anything?”

“Maybe he’s just being nice.”

“Maybe, but from what information I’ve gathered, he doesn’t do that with other girls. Hell, even with people. You know how he takes no bullshit from Kaveh.”

Tighnari’s mouth goes agape. “I don’t even want to know how you ‘gathered information’ about him.”

“I have my ways.”

He throws up his hands in the air, a defeated look on his face.

“Fine!” he says, his tone rising, his ears flat against his head. A shaky breath escapes him. “I just don’t want you to get brokenhearted again. It pained me a lot to see you crying silently every day.”

Taken aback at his words, you consider your response carefully—you really want him to see how Alhaitham treats you differently. Almost immediately, an idea appears in your mind.

“How about you join tomorrow’s book club meet-up?” you propose. His ears quickly stand back to attention.

“What? Why?”

“So you can observe him yourself,” you say, a smile growing on your lips. “Then you can judge if he likes me or not.“

“That’s… a good idea,” he ponders. “Okay. What time tomorrow?”

—

You come to the meet-up with Tighnari in tow. He stands beside you as you knock on Alhaitham’s door. The homeowner himself answers it.

“Oh, hello. You’re early. And… well, well.” The scribe’s eyes turn towards your best friend. “I didn’t expect to see the Forest Watcher here,” he quips.

Tighnari scoffs, his tail swirling protectively around your waist.

“I’m here to accompany my best friend,” he says. You chuckle nervously.

Alhaitham smirks, clearly amused with Tighnari’s protectiveness. “Come in.”

You and Tighnari walk into the house and sit on the living room sofa. Alhaitham fetches coffee for you and water for Tighnari. A few minutes later, the other book club members come, and the discussion starts.

Again, you can’t help but notice that Alhaitham touches you a lot. He sits beside you for the whole two hours of heated discussion, his hand lingering at the bottom of your elbow, sometimes moving away but eventually finding its way back to your skin. You feel his fingertips sink deeper into your flesh every time Tighnari speaks—is he… jealous?

Meanwhile, Tighnari, who sits opposite you, has his eyes peeled between your face and Alhaitham’s hand. He notices how you keep looking at Alhaitham every few seconds, sees every blush you have every time Alhaitham touches you, and hears how your breathing hitches every time he speaks and Alhaitham’s fingers, in turn, sink deeper into your skin.

After two hours of observation, Tighnari has had enough.

He waits until Alhaitham is back from escorting the other club members out, then he stands up to face the taller man.

“Thank you for letting me join today’s meet-up,” Tighnari says, then turns to you. “Now—I think you have something to tell our host, buddy.”

You nearly choke on your coffee in shock. “Nari, this wasn’t—”

Tighnari shoots you a threatening look. “Tell him. Or I will.”

“What’s this about?” Alhaitham asks, confusion visible in his usually-stoic face.

You sigh. “Well,” you start, fidgeting. You try to meet his gaze. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Alhaitham freezes so visibly, you feel obliged to mouth “sorry” for suddenly springing a love confession on him.

Tighnari’s ears are now flat against his head and his tail is bristling. You feel the blood draining from your face. This is not good.

“Tell us. Do you—” he points at Alhaitham’s chest, then to you— “like her, or not?”

The scribe clears his throat and folds his arms in defense. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have let her into my house otherwise.”

Tighnari hisses. “Don’t play coy. You know what I mean.”

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows. “That’s rather private, don’t you think?”

Tighnari backs off, but his tail is swishing side to side in annoyance. “I would normally agree. But she was badly hurt in the past, and I—” he chokes. “I don’t want that to happen again. Ever.”

Alhaitham steals a glance at you—who is nervously fidgeting, whispering “sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t punch him” rapidly—then focuses back on Tighnari.

“I’d rather her get hurt sooner than later. Before she overthinks about how you behave around her,” Tighnari continues.

On that, you stop whispering and shoot your best friend a protesting look. He turns his gaze to you. “Oh, shut up. You know you’re going to. You do that every time you have a crush.”

You blush. He focuses his gaze back on Alhaitham. “So yes, if that means intruding into your private life, that’s a small sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Alhaitham stares at you for a few seconds. He lets out a sigh upon seeing you melt under his intense gaze.

“I see,” he muses and turns to Tighnari. “I suppose I should thank you.”

The Forest Watcher tilts his head. “What for?”

Alhaitham chuckles. “For making me realize that I should’ve done this sooner.”

Before you can react, he’s already sitting beside you. His left arm circles around your waist, pulling you towards him, and his right hand is on your left ear, his thumb caressing your skin like it’s the most precious thing in this world. You squeak in surprise when he pecks your nose. When he pulls away, he has a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Hmm. I don’t think that’s the right place. Excuse me.”

He dips in to kiss you in earnest. It’s a gentle act, him pressing his soft, warm lips against yours—a gentleness you wouldn’t normally associate with the highly rational man who is oftentimes described as “cold.”

Then again, you’re not exactly normal in his eyes, are you?

“I love you,” he declares softly, a tender smile on his lips—the smile that made you fall in love with him back then. “I’ve been in love with you since we were classmates.”

You feel tears start welling up in your eyes. “That long? Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask. You feel his arm tighten around your waist.

“You already had a boyfriend when I realized my feelings for you,” he says. “Had I known he was just using you, I would’ve risked getting punched in the gut for telling you about how I feel anyway.” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I should’ve investigated more instead of just giving up and staying away.”

You lean forward to place a light kiss on his lips. He pulls back in surprise.

You chuckle at his reaction. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

With a small smile, he gathers you into his arms and turns to Tighnari.

“I believe this satisfies your curiosity, Mr. Forest Watcher?” he asks while playing with your hair.

Tighnari gives a huff of approval. “Yes,” he smiles. He walks to the front door and looks back at the two of you, affection abundant in his eyes.

“Congratulations, you two.”

You wave your best friend goodbye and lay your head back onto your now-boyfriend’s chest. He hums as he rocks you back and forth in his arms, both of you relieved to finally know how you feel toward each other. With the newfound love you have in Alhaitham and the enduring friendship you have in Tighnari, you feel secure—like an overgrowth of sturdy trees is watching over you.

Original end note:

I've always wanted Tighnari as my (fluffy!) best friend. I feel like he'd be very protective (bordering overprotective, even) of the people he truly cares about.

As for Haitham, well, he's a lot of fun to write. I feel like I understand how he thinks and behaves quite easily. And he's my husband, and I'm selfshipping, soooooo there's that.

Hope you enjoyed reading the fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💚