#Hes such a full of himself smartass bitch

[drrandombear]

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ THE BITCH IS BACK ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡  (A moment of appreciation for the drip of Riddler's goons- they look awesome)

GORDON!!!! HES HERE!!! Love that they're bringing in characters that they were blocked from using before. Also a pretty smooth introduction all things considered.

Riddler being Batman's "Guardian Angel" very nice. I do really like it when Riddler seems to have full control / partial control over the city. Guy in the chair Riddler is where hes at his best. (Also him calling Batman and Yin "Detectives" love that he still remembers her being a huge thorn in his side even if he most likely cant remember her name the narcissistic bitch♡)

This is horrifying. I love all the good shots we get of people being Joker gassed but this one really stood out to me of this goon collapsing Infront of the "camera". (also another moment of appreciation for the kickass Riddler goon look- why doesn't the man himself look more like these guys)

Yin being the one to fuck up the Riddlers plans yet again. Yes queen get his ass.

Gordon looks so cool. Its the coat but like still. Also love how this episode lights him.

[artdnldsn]

gestalt therapy

college professor!art donaldson x fem reader

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, swearing, student!reader, age gap, porn w/ a little plot, head (f receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight degradation (question mark?), one mention of "daddy"

synopsis: you're done with your senior year at college, and all you want is a parting gift.

a/n: my first full fic here wow my first ever smut WOW the only thing that's not a first here is english because it's my second language so be patient pookies. college prof au has been haunting me for days so i needed to get it out. even though i have no fucking idea how colleges work in the us ;) hope you like it! happy reading

The first thing he notices about you is how ridiculously smart you are.

It's not even a stretch or him trying to justify the instant attraction he feels towards you. No, you're genuinely, undeniably brilliant, especially for your age. You've got this way with words, and concepts come to you so easily. You pick up on all his lead-ups to lecture topics, knowing exactly what the main conversation will be about a good five minutes before the rest of the class. You smile smugly, crossing your arms and leaning back, your eyes seeking his because you want him to know that you know.

And honestly, he'd be mad at you for being so smug if you weren't so damn smart.

The way you walk up to him after class to discuss your latest essay, your stance confident and voice sure, as you argue over why you deserved a 100 and not a 98. He's looking at your essay, then at you, then back at his computer screen, squinting just to appear like he's thinking it over, but he knows you're right; of course you are. Your essay is perfect. He was just being a dick about it, nitpicking because he couldn't admit you're basically flawless.

He's getting self-conscious about his teaching. There's nothing he can teach you—you come so prepared for every class that he wonders if you even have a life outside his classroom. Maybe your brain just works like that, but a small, selfish part of him hopes you spend hours prepping for his classes. The thought that you do it for him and not the subject is a nice one, but he shoves it away.

At least that way, it wouldn't be as pathetic for him to spend nights rewriting his lectures, perfecting his presentations to the point where he's sitting in his bed at 3 AM, pondering whether Times New Roman or Arial would make his point come across better.

He's always been a perfectionist, living by the book, striving not for greatness but for the reserved maximum of his natural capabilities. He never really pushed himself. But you—oh, fuck, you. Fuck you. You make him want to lose sleep just to prove to you or himself that he's certainly smarter than some college senior.

He calls you a lot of things in his head. A know-it-all, an "excuse me" because you're always "excuse me"-ing him like he doesn't have a name, a smartass, a bitch—he hates when he's in a mood like this last one because it signals it's time to sleep. You're a lot of things, but you're not stupid.

In fact, he starts wondering if you're a once-in-a-lifetime talent. Because he's rather young for a professor, he hasn't seen as many students as his colleagues, who always crack up anecdotes about past students, someone who graduated 15, 30 years ago, but the older professors still remember them. He wonders if he's going to remember you like that. He's pretty sure he will.

He's never even thought about you as a woman and not just his student. He's just respectful like that. Sure, you were hot, which only added to your confident allure. He's not blind—hell, he'd admit it if he had to—but he's never thought about you like that.

But apparently, you have about him.

You appear at his office doorstep minutes before he's about to clock out for the night. You're looking pristine as always, and with your silhouette illuminated by the office's dim lights, he wonders for a second if you're even human with your endless drive, brilliant mind, and hair that always looks like it's animated because it's impossible for real human hair to flow that perfectly.

"Good evening," he greets you, eyebrows creasing slightly in confusion. You've never visited, your final grades are in, and you're graduating in a week. He's already said his goodbyes to your class, and when he did, you shot him a little smile that he read as everything being good between you. What are you doing here then? "Can I help—"

“Are you impotent?” you cut him off, arms crossed, a challenging look in your eyes.

He actually chokes on air. “E-excuse me?” he mutters under his breath, his expression shocked, his voice strained. God, he’s ridiculed you for years in his head for addressing him like that, and here he is now.

You turn your back to him, lock the door, and make your way to his desk in confident steps. You sit on the edge of his desk, looking at him over your shoulder. "I asked if you're impotent," you shrug, arching your eyebrow.

“No,” he blurts out, his expression still one of pure horror as he doesn’t know where to keep his gaze, his eyes darting between the papers on his desk, and his computer screen, and his hands, anywhere but you. “God, no.”

“Why you never fucked me, then?” you ask, your tone still almost accusatory, but your voice soft. It’s almost like there is a hint of genuine regret in your words, and he doubts his sanity right now, wonders if he’s imagining things. He pinches his thigh under the desk, just to make sure.

“What do you mean, why?” he stutters, his cheeks flushed. “B-because.” Oh, God, it’s really bad. He’s really speechless, his mind unable to conjure up a full sentence. “Because you’re my student, and I respect you, and there are boundaries that shouldn’t be—“

“I’m not your student anymore. Not technically.” Your tone is matter-of-fact, one he’s too familiar with. One you’ve used to tell him about all the typos in his handouts, all the mistakes in his tests, all the times he’s fucked up grading someone’s papers. Only now you’re telling him… Fuck, he really can’t grasp what it is you’re telling him.

“I can’t argue with that, but I really don’t understand the point of this conversation. You’re completely out of—“

“Consider it gestalt therapy,” you shrug nonchalantly. He’s getting mad, really, with you cutting him off like that, like you’re getting back at him for years of having to listen to his lectures without having an opportunity to talk over him. It takes him a second to grasp what you’re implying. He clears his throat.

You sigh, letting your arms drop to your sides, sliding off the desk, walking up to him in these fucking deliberate strides, spinning him in his chair so he faces you, his hands lifted up in the air as if he is surrendering. He doesn’t know to what, exactly.

“Just really have to get this out of my system, Mr. Donaldson,” you sigh almost guilty, your gaze landing on his lap. He's hard, his cock straining the fabric of his trousers. Of course he is, what the fuck?

You cup him, eliciting a soft sigh from his lips, his eyes falling shut. You start stroking him through the fabric, confidently like everything you do. It makes his blood boil. You’re such a bitch. A know-it-all. A smart-ass. And so, so hot that he can’t bring himself not to kinda wish you’re intending to fuck his brains out.

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe a weak protest to give you a final out, but you lean down, pressing your lips to his in a languid, deep kiss, a thorough exploratory one like every single one of your fucking essays has ever been.

You move to his lap, straddling him, the chair creaking under your combined weight. Only when his hands move to your hips does he understand you’re wearing a skirt. God, he hasn’t even noticed that. He lets his hands stay there, caressing your bare thighs as your skirt rides up, and you lean in for another kiss.

There's no raw hunger. If anything, he’s sure he’s incapable of it in this situation, his mind still trying to catch up, trying to relabel you as not forbidden. You’re grinding against his growing erection, tugging at his hair as you deepen the kiss, your curves so unexpectedly perfect against him.

He only realizes you’re working on his belt and zipper when he hears them. Instinctively, he moves his hands to your wrists to stop you, but you just shake them away like you’ve shrugged him off all these years. He gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his freed cock, stroking the length expertly, thoroughly, meticulously, as your lips never leave his. He actually relaxes into the chair, his hands gripping your waist, tugging your top up to reveal more bare skin.

No bra. Of course you didn’t wear any. You’ve come prepared as always.

You chuckle quietly, your lips continuing to move in unison with his, finding a lazy rhythm that drives you both insane. He reads this chuckle as you being amused at him taking any initiative. It makes his blood boil.

He breaks the kiss, one hand squeezing your breast firmly as he leans down, capturing your left nipple between his lips, sucking gently before biting. His other hand lands on your ass with a loud smack, making you gasp. Finally, some reaction.

He starts bucking into your hand, seeking more friction, moving his mouth to your other breast, lavishing it with the same attention, leaving a bite mark on the side, making you wince but moan. That moan—fuck, that beautiful sound. Now he’s angrier at himself than you are at him for not having fucked you sooner.

He understands you were expecting to ride him, like he��s some sexless creature, a toy to use, a dick attached to a fantasy that has nothing to do with the man he is, and it makes him even madder. He’s always admired your insightfulness, your capability to get right to the gist of things through walls of useless shit, but he’s feeling his respect for you slipping as he understands just how wrong you must’ve been about him in your head.

He peels himself off your chest, lips glistening with saliva, smacking your ass again, harder this time, groping both cheeks as he lifts you off his lap to sit you on his desk over the papers he’s grading. He’ll just tell everyone he spilled a drink. No one will miss them.

His lips find yours again in a searing hot kiss. It’s messy, all tongue and teeth like he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s not. Of course not. It’s just that something dormant is being woken up in him. You whimper as he cups your mound through your panties, making him chuckle. Well, look who’s laughing now.

"You've seriously dreamt about this?" he whispers against your jaw, his long fingers sliding into your underwear, finding your slickness. Fuck, you're so wet for him, it almost makes him black out. "Wanted me to fuck you on this desk? Or the one in the classroom? Or in the library? Or right in the fucking hall, huh? Why not? Let everyone watch." His tone is almost taunting, his every word accompanied by a painfully slow and teasing circle of his thumb over your swollen clit.

"Yes, yes, yes," you mutter, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressing against his shoulder, hips bucking helplessly into his hand, seeking friction. It’s not clear if you’re answering his questions or begging him to go faster. It doesn’t matter; his smirk is already in place, his eyes glistening with amusement as he looks down at you, breathing hard through his nose.

"Yes, what?" he chuckles, shrugging, his eyes scanning every reaction on your face. The way your head falls back, your lower lip caught between your teeth, your cheeks flushed. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, what?" he murmurs softly, his hand in your panties slowing down to the point of stopping.

A groan of disappointment escapes your lips as you snap your head back up, eyes darting open. He can see your pupils blown wide even in the dim light, the lamp on his desk illuminating you from behind like a renaissance painting. "Yes, fuck me," you say dryly, like it’s obvious, still seeing him as some pathetic, stupid nobody, but you’re slightly out of breath when you say it, so that’s a win in his book for now.

Just means he’s gotta try harder.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place. He’s standing between your legs, keeping them spread wide for him. He pulls his hand out of your panties to bring it to your face, shoving two fingers into your pretty smartass mouth. Your eyebrows crease, eyes falling shut at the action, a hum leaving your lips, vibrating through his skin, but you still suck on them obediently, tasting yourself on his fingers and coating them in your saliva.

He slips one finger right inside you when it makes its way back down. He starts thrusting it into you at a steady rhythm, his lips finding your neck, nibbling on it, his teeth grazing your delicate skin, tongue sliding over the little marks his teeth leave there, as he curls his finger inside you, thrusting deeper, deeper, almost aggressively.

"God, I really thought you were smart," he mutters under his breath, hot against your skin as he adds another finger and starts stretching you, eliciting a soft moan from you. He leans down, sucking on your tits again, noticing how hard your nipples are now, almost painfully so, matching the way his dick is rock hard, still standing at full attention against his clothed abdomen. "Thought you were different. Hard-working. Proper." He sinks onto his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a glint in his eyes you can’t quite read. "Turns out you’re just a slut."

He tugs your panties down, his tongue finding your cunt, one of his hands moving to throw your leg over his shoulder, keeping it there tightly as the fingers of his other hand re-enter your cunt, starting to finger it at the same urgent pace, his tongue moving feverishly over your clit, making you moan quietly because, yes, there are still people in the building, you have to keep quiet, but a part of him, the one you’ve awoken, wishes the circumstances were different, that he could hear you scream for him.

He’s getting high off the taste of your juices, off the scent of your arousal filling his nostrils, his nose pressed into your pelvis as he fucks you with his fingers in a relentless rhythm, curling his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench down onto him, searching for that sweet spot that’s going to make your toes curl.

“Tell me,” he rasps out, pulling away from your cunt just for enough time to say what he needs to say, peppering your inner thigh with kisses in the meantime. “Tell me exactly how long you’ve wanted this. And how you wanted me to fuck you. Leave no details out.”

You whimper when he delves back onto your clit, sucking on it, not caring to keep his teeth from grazing your sensitive skin here and there, but it’s a good feeling.

“S-since that lecture. Sophomore year,” you breathe out, you throat tight from holding back so many moans that are begging to be let out. Your mouth falls open in a silent ‘oh’ as he sucks your whole clit in, lapping at it with his tongue inside his wet hot mouth, your hand snapping instinctively onto his head, gripping his hair to pin yourself down to the reality. “You wore that slutty turtleneck, and of course I’ve thought you’re hot, but then you had one wrong date in your presentation, and I got so fucking mad at you. Thought you’re too careless to teach.”

He hums against your cunt, encouraging you to go on, or agreeing with your point, he can’t tell himself anymore. He’s completely gone at this point, drinking your juices like he’s drinking in your words. Amidst all this, he actually appreciates you not calling him stupid. You might’ve, but you didn’t.

“And you were always s-so passive, like I tried arguing with you, reading all that shit instead of going out just to get a rile out of you, and you never fucking bucked. I-I-I—“ you stutter, your mind going into overdrive for a second as he continues abusing your g-spot, his fingers moving at a frantic speed in and out, in and out. He smacks your thigh to get your attention back on the topic. “I just couldn’t fucking believe you. I was being a bitch, I was nagging you, just because. And you didn’t even care.”

He smiles into your cunt, a huff of air leaving his nose. At last, you admit it. He suddenly doesn’t feel bad at all for calling you a bitch in his head. He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers, your breathing irregular, you’re practically panting, your grip in his hair tightening as you guide him closer, rolling your hips against his tongue and fingers, seeking release. You’re close.

He pulls away, earning another cuss and another groan of disappointment off your lips. He smacks your thigh again, hard, the action leaving a red print of his big palm on your skin. “You didn’t answer,” he rasps out, delving back into you. Fucking students, he thinks to himself. Always so smart, thinking they know it all, and always forgetting to answer the second part of the question after they’re done answering the first.

Your mind is so hazy at this point, it takes you an effort to rewind the interaction in your head to understand what he means. “L-like this,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as he grips the one that’s not on his shoulder to stop it from shaking too much, keeping you in place. “I-I didn’t want you to be nice. You’re always so fucking nice, it’s not human, I knew it wasn’t true.”

He’s too set on making you cum to chuckle now, although it is pretty funny. He’s been doubting you’re human, too, but the way you gasp for air, trying desperately to hold back your moans as he feels you coming closer and closer to release, it tells him all that he needs to know. You’re just flesh and bones, not the perfect genius he’s painted you to be in his mind.

“Fuck!” you whimper, giving his hair one last tug before your hand springs up to cover your mouth, biting into your index finger to keep yourself quiet. It takes one slide of his fingers, one roll of his tongue, five seconds, and your muscles go taught as your hips buck off the desk, his pens in the glass standing on the edge of it clattering against each other, the keyboard of his computer flying up for a split second from impact of your ass slamming back down onto the desk. It’s like a mini-earthquake, that’s left your world erupt into white behind your closed eyelids.

He fingers you through it, lapping his tongue over your clit until you wince quietly from it hurting, and he pulls away reluctantly, standing up from the floor to stand in between your legs again. His neck and back hurt like hell from crouching down on the floor for so long, his muscles are not what they used to be, after all, and for a split second he considers actually giving up and letting you ride him, but it would be your win in his book, and he can’t allow that.

He spits on his hand before he leans down to kiss you, his tongue sliding back into your mouth, letting you taste yourself once again, as he brings his hand down to stroke himself, breathing softly out of his nose at the relief of some friction, finally. “You’re such a hypocrite,” he murmurs into your lips, softly, almost lovingly, the same fucking slightly condescending tone he’s always used in his classroom.

You open your mouth to ask what the fuck he means, but he pushes his tongue back into your mouth, all thoughts of a protest evaporating from your mind. You slide closer to the edge of the desk instinctively to accommodate him when he eventually pushes into you. You almost can’t wait.

He gropes your ass to position you like he wants you, his fingers digging into your plump skin maybe a little too hard. You don’t protest. He breathes heavily, like it’s physically paining him to hold back any second longer — it does,—and his brows are furrowed in concentration while he slides his tip over your clit, coating it with your slickness, the same way he frowns when he’s grading papers or goes over tomorrow’s lecture in his head.

He pushes inside in one determined thrust, piercing through you, a quiet grunt escaping his lips, a soft moan escaping yours. Before you have any time to adjust, he starts pounding his hips into yours, one of his arms hooked around your torso to keep you in place as his free hand flies to your chest, squeezing your right tit roughly, pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, making it harden again.

“Careless?” he scoffs, an expression of pure disbelief on his face at the fact you’ve even dared to say that. He grunts again, his hand falling from your breast to your hip, gripping it firmly as he continues pounding into you, your breathing quickening again. He’s rather big, and it hurts a little from you still being sore from your orgasm, but you still moan softly under your nose, your wrists hurting from you leaning on the desk behind your back for so long.

“You call me careless for a typo in a presentation I made six years ago, and it’s not careless for you to come here, asking me if I’m impotent? Fuck you,” he grunts again, a grin pulling on his lips as he throws his head back, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. You’re squeezing his cock so tightly, there’s no way in hell you’re ever going to be asking him or yourself that question again.

He lets go of you, reaching behind your back to pull on your wrists, tugging them further to himself, which makes you fall back on the desk. “Fuck you,” he repeats, his words almost sounding like a moan now as he holds your wrists near your stomach, basically transfixing you. He moves one of his hands up to throw your leg over his shoulder again, another continuing holding your wrists down, as you both groan quietly at the change of the angle, the new one allowing for him to go so deep he’s touching parts of you you didn’t know existed.

“So, you wanted me to be a good teacher and a good dick all at the same time?” he muses, a smirk pulling on his lips again as he looks down onto your dishevelled form, your tits bouncing out of your tugged-down top, you skirt ridden up to your waist, your fucking face, so unbearably beautiful, flushed and your lips swollen from his kisses and from you biting on them so much. He can’t fucking get enough of how silent you are now after running your mouth at him for all these years. “Did you want me to be your boyfriend, too?” he chuckles, shaking his head, his expression faltering as he picks up the rhythm for a good minute, pounding into you so hard all the items on the desk are clattering, and you have to bite on your lips again not to scream from him practically tearing you apart, because you can’t cover your mouth anymore with your wrists held by him.

“Daddy never loved you, right?” He understands he’s probably taunting you too much, his words almost feeling cruel, but he’s too far gone at this point, he’s making a forceful effort to continue looking down at you to imprint the way you look right now into his memory to revisit later, even though his eyes are almost rolling back from just how good your cunt takes him. “That’s why you’ve been pining for my dick for fucking three years? Are you getting what you wanted?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper weakly. Yes to all that, actually, but he doesn’t need to know that. He feels too good, filling you up to the brim, you can almost feel him in your guts, he’s making your toes curl. And he’s finally not acting nice. Just like you wanted him to.

“Good,” he growls, letting go of you for a second before his hands find the undersides of your knees, bringing them close to your chest, changing the angle again as he starts hammering down into you, the room filled with the sound of your shared ragged breaths, the desk creaking under you and the sound of his pelvis slapping against yours. “Fu-uck, you’re taking me so good, none of your schoolwork was ever that good,” he’s lying through his teeth. Not about the sex — you’re taking it like a champ—but about your schoolwork. It was, indeed, that good.

He basically has no power left over what words leave his mouth, he’s completely drunk on you, the taste of your cunt and your mouth still lingering on his tongue. “Are you gonna come again?” he pants out, slowing down, feeling your walls clenching down on him, squeezing him tight.

“Y-yeah,” you mutter, fluttering your eyes open to look at him from under your eyelashes, but you can pretty much only make out his silhouette with how hazy your vision has become with just how good he’s fucking you. “I knew,” you repeat, your throat feeling tight again, your head falling back on the desk as you bring your now free hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle out the scream you know is there, brewing, destined to roll of your lips when he drives you to release again.

“You—“ he starts in disbelief, but he’s getting closer, too, there’s no point in arguing now. He just can’t fucking believe the nerve on you. What do you mean, you knew? Knew he could fuck you like you wanted to? Knew you would be walking out of here with a limp? Such a know-it-all, always thinking she’s two steps ahead everybody else.

He sighs shakily, a broken, needy sound as he brings his hand in between your legs, finding your clit again, his other hand still holding your knees pressed to your chest. He rubs at you in sync with the thrusts of his hips, his pace picking up, up, and up, until he finally lets out a low grunt, stilling, slipping out of you as he watches you bite on your hand, tears streaming down your cheeks as he feels your pussy convulsing under his fingers, another orgasm hitting you, and in a matter of seconds, after a few fast strokes, he comes, too, thick ropes of his seed landing all over your stomach and knees, and some of it lands on your chin.

For a few seconds, he just stands there, catching his breath, watching over you. He opens his desk drawer, pulls out a tissue pack, and wipes himself before doing the same for you. You're still lying there, face hidden in your hands, your outfit a mess. He's already caught you crying and knows you might feel awkward doing it in front of him, so he just makes sure you're clean for when you leave.

He tucks himself back into his trousers, fastens his belt, and walks to the other side of his office. You hear him rustling around while you try to get your breath back and keep your emotions in check. His soft footsteps approach the desk again, and you feel him gently patting your knee. You open your eyes to see him holding out a cup of water—a peace offering or an apology. But you know he doesn't owe you either. He just gave you everything you've wanted for the last three years. And he even brought you fucking water. Because he's disgustingly nice like that.

You nod in gratitude, sit up, and take the plastic cup from his hand, downing it in one gulp. It actually brings some life back to you. You breathe out shakily, fix your top, and tuck your tits back in before sliding off the desk. Your shoes land softly on the floor, your legs still trembling, your knees feeling like they'll give out any moment. You tug your skirt down and sheepishly meet his gaze, unsure where to go from here.

He steps closer and brings his hands up to your face to fix your hair. His eyebrows furrow in concentration again as he smooths it down, making sure you don't look disheveled when you walk out of here.

He sighs, letting his arms drop to his sides, and keeps looking at your face as if making sure you're not just looking okay but are okay too. “I didn’t mean that. The ‘fuck you’. And the ‘slut’ comment. Well, I kinda did,” he shrugs, averting his gaze with a humorless chuckle, “but I didn’t.”

You punch the air out of his lungs as you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. It takes him a second to gather himself, but he hesitantly hugs you back, just letting his hands rest on your lower back as you nuzzle your nose into his chest.

You had to get it out of your system, but now that it's in, you feel like you’ll never get enough. He feels like a beacon, one he's always been for you. The guy you picked a rivalry with your first week of sophomore year just to push yourself harder, to strive for greatness. He wasn’t even aware there was a rivalry to begin with. He's an academic, though, they’re all fucked up in the head, he must understand a part of it, at least.

And he understands. Truly. He just hopes you won’t start crying again, because he doesn’t know how he'd handle that. He pulls away slightly to look you in the eyes, cupping your face in his hands, and plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“You’re a smart girl,” he says, his voice low, the small, friendly smile on his lips sincere, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he looks down at you. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t doubt it.”

He had this whole speech prepared for the class about how adult life is going to treat them, the challenges they'll face, how scary it’ll be, but also insanely rewarding. It was long, sentimental, with a few jokes thrown in. Some girls cried, but it was all bullshit. What’s real is this. Him understanding your fears without you having to voice them. Him telling you you’ve got this.

“And until you do, you always know where to find me,” he nods to the side, obviously meaning his office, a lopsided smirk making him look a good decade younger. His gaze finds yours again, and he pulls you into another tight hug, one he initiates this time.

In his mind, he’s already thinking how long it would be appropriate to wait before he can invite you for a coffee.

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

[paperweight91]

Happy Wednesday 💜

You sent me Daddy! 🥰 he will definitely make sure I have a happy Wednesday, and for you I have a little something that is a part of that thing we’ve been working on together, I hope you enjoy!

Demolition Woman, Can I Be Your Man

W/C: 527

Warnings: violence, swearing

Lloyd flipped the knife in his hand securing it in his grip. You wiped the blood from your own face as you each eyed the other up. You couldn’t say how long the two of you had been going at it, but one thing was for sure: this hunt was a bust.

“C’mon Spitfire, I was just starting to have fun. Don’t say you’re tossing in the towel.”

You could punch that smirk right off of his face.

“Hilarious Hansen.” You both began to circle, like cats stalking your prey as you spoke. “But I was thinking that you really need to be put in your place.”

Lloyd laughed so hard he clutched his stomach. The sound made you want to throw something, so you did. You grabbed a small knife from your inside jacket pocket and let it fly while the arrogant man was distracted. Unfortunately for you, Lloyd wasn’t as distracted as you thought.

He dodged the knife easily, before pulling himself to his full height and squaring his shoulders. “That was a mistake.”

His tone had completely changed from cajoling to calm. Before you could reply with a smartass remark, Lloyd tackled you to the ground. You grunted as you felt the wind knocked out of you at the force. Acting totally on instinct you frantically began scratching, punching and kicking every inch of him you could reach.

You knew you connected when you heard Lloyd’s pained grunt above you and his weight sagged. Using a move you had only ever tried once you flipped both of you until you were straddling him. “Something wrong, Magnum?”

Lloyd looked up at you, pure rage in his features. “I’m gonna assume you mean the TV show and not condom, since a bitch like you wouldn’t even get it to half mast.”

You snorted at his weak comeback. You took your gun from the waistband of your jeans and pulled the hammer back. “Back off Hansen. Leave this hunt to me and we can go our separate ways. Or…” you trailed off leaving the threat in the air.

Lloyd rolled his eyes, “There’s not much of a hunt left.” He grabbed your wrist holding the gun and squeezed until you whimpered and dropped it. “But don’t worry Snipe, I’ll teach you a real good lesson for letting the dog get away.”

You glared from your position on top of him. As much as you wanted to argue with him, you knew he was right. The werewolf was gone. The two of you had been too busy with each other to even notice his escape. You huffed and sagged, losing all your will to fight with Lloyd.

He took your signs for the weakness they were and he rolled you both again. Pressing his nose against your own you could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke above you. “Now since you’ve gone and ruined a perfectly good kill, I’ll make you a deal. I can see you’ve got your uses, and it would be a shame to take out someone who actually knows what they’re doing. So work with me for the next little bit.”

***

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @rebeccapineapple @precious1610 @bval-1 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @abbyyourlocalmilf

[lady-lostmind]

Time to go!

for Stobin Month prompt: Black Eye

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 344 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve’s eyes search the crowd, trying to find Robin and Eddie. He spots them from across the bar and feels his stomach sink as someone shoves Eddie’s shoulder, getting in his face. He watches that familiar cocky grin pull at Eddie’s mouth as he says another smartass remark. 

“Shit.” Steve mutters under his breath, already pushing forward through the crowd, trying to get to them before–

The guy grabs Eddie’s shirt, tugging him forward and raising his fist, but before he can swing Robin rears back and punches him square in the eye, full force. The guy stumbles back, dropping Eddie, who is staring open mouthed at Robin and cackling. Steve moves faster, Watching as Robin pushes the guy’s shoulders, yelling in his face. Just as the guy regains his balance and reaches out to shove Robin, Steve gets to them, smacking the guy’s hand off of her, pushing her and Eddie behind him. 

Steve puts his hand on the asshole’s shoulder. “I think you should go, man.” 

The guy’s face scrunches, his eye already swelling from Robin’s hit. “Who the fuck are you? This fucking bitch–” He points over Steve’s shoulder at Robin who huffs out a laugh.

Eddie leans forward shaking his head. “Shouldn’t have said that, buddy. BIG mistake!” 

Steve sees red. He slams the guy back against the bar. “If you ever come near either of them again–” He yanks the guy forward again, just to slam him roughly against the bar again, grinning when the guy lets out a pained groan. “The black eye that ‘bitch’ gave you will be the least of your worries.” Steve slams his knee up between the guys legs, Robin and Eddie gasping, and letting out loud ooohhhs– behind him as the guy crumples in on himself and Steve drops him, letting him fall to the dirty floor. The commotion finally draws attention from the people around them, and the bodyguard now making their way through the crowd. 

Eddie squeaks, grabbing Steve and Robin’s hands, tugging them toward the back exit. “Time to go!”

Stobin month prompt list by @lavenderstobins

[n64spoon]

EVEN MORE TED HCS 😁😁😁

(mainly based on blue beetle 1986)

- natural brown hair, dyes it red in like college because he wanted to do something small to differentiate himself from the nerdy good kid standard everyone views him as. (id say after the events of JLA: Year One #3)

- autistic. i have a section about this in a character study im writing about him but to keep things simple here are some of the signs he shows:

- dismissive of the world around him accidentally

- very fast emotional switches

- overreacts

- isnt good at telling tone (with himself and others, also branching off his dismissive behaviour)

- high intelligence and interest in a specific area

- doesnt like certain textures

- masks alot, especially at parties and stuff.

- struggles with focusing on one task and concentrating

- used to smoke (this is literally canon (melody states in blue beetle 1986 #2))

- has attachment issues, as in, he gets attached to people way too easily and can come off pushy. aftermath of growing up an only child with a dead mother and distant father AND THEN losing your two father figures in a night.

- murray takamoto was his bi awakening (his college roommate, check blue beetle 1986 💪💪)

- kind of(?) adding onto the autistic headcanons, i think he does express himself with rage alot. hes not like a full on brute, obviously. but whether its making a small smartass comment or throwing the papers off his desk at work, he does tend to overreact at times. not saying that he's purposely mean or anything its just because he never had anyone to teach him proper coping mechanisms.

- by the way, teenage dork ted kord with glasses and no bitches is quite literally canon

- overworks himself but only with something he's fixated on. in bb1986 its shown he finds it very hard to sit down and do his work, in contrast to that, he gets carpal tunnel in L.A.W for working on a case too long.

- has nightmares about dan and his death (this too is canon)

- doesn't like to talk or think about negative things, prefers distractions. once again referencing his '86 run, after dans second death he immediately goes to investigate the kid who in someway saved him, instead of properly grieving.

- jewish

[mr-laveau]

"You are a breath of fresh air in my life just by virtue of being unapologetically yourself."

-Lasko Moore

"Oh I can be very pleasant, just not usually with you."

-Aaron

Allow me to be that bitch, and share with the class ANOTHER totally-not-a-self-indulgent poly Lasko/Aaron listener OC, Carter Wilde, a.k.a [Casanova], the bratty telepath.

*Just pretend I actually knew how to spell Casanova above when I first made this.

The Deets:

Carter (he/him) is a human born telepath and currently, a professor* at D.A.M.N for Advanced Telepathy Studies, Fire Elemental Magic 101, Intro to Warding, Electro Magic II and Basics of Illusory Magic.

*he used to be a part-time sub and worked with Aaron before he changed career paths and started working full-time for the academy

Carter is Afro-American/desi and grew up in Chicago before moving to Dahlia for work while getting his teaching license. Was working with Aaron before he got a full position at DAMN but as far as Aaron knew then, Carter's teaching some accounting/management classes at a college.

Very much the professor with a fun but unorthodox way of teaching*–he once made his class write up and direct a short film to teach them how to consider different variables in manipulating their illusions properly with magic like they did when making their films. His time with Aaron taught him to be more relaxed about his students.

*Damien "strongly disliked" his ass for a while because he didn't like his methods, and Carter fed into it to mess with him before he arranged a separate syllabus plan for Damien to tackle while the class did their thing. They get along now but Carter will sometimes subtly remind Damien about the MANY "nicknames" he overheard Damien calling him during class.

Did not handle inversion well, his magic was a bitch to maintain inside the ward and everyone's thoughts didn't make the situation any better. Had to tell Aaron about his magical status a little bit after since keeping it all in didn't make things better and it was the only way to really explain what happened then after he initially told Aaron he'd been handling a trip out of the city. The conversation pretty sad but they made it and wrangler Lasko after his Aftershock vid w FL for a group care session. They're all in therapy :)

"Could you tell this was the first cutie design?"*.

*This isn't a lie, this was the first Cutie design and Carter was initially going to be a journalist who worked with Sama and dared Geordi, however I scrapped it and moved onto another design I liked. This was also the first Smartass design but as Lexi can attest, I found something else I liked.

Met Lasko when he first started subbing for Intro to Warding (very early in the timeline). Their dynamic fits the non-canon listener dynamic he seems to have with them in BAs/HBWs/HBSs. Carter loves to tease him just to poke a reaction out of him but is entirely sweet about taking care of Lasko otherwise since he doesn't often do it for himself. Will often drop in before Lasko's classes to give him sweets/gum/mints.

Very much the personification of "crackhead" energy outside of work. Aaron keeps him on a leash but will act on the first devious-not-so-devious thought that crosses his mind. To his benefit, Carter does know how to restrain himself for the sake of not pushing buttons, but more often than not will poke at people just for fun.

Will sometimes read Aaron's thoughts just to peek at what annoys him that day in order to turn it around and get him to laugh. It works despite how much Aaron thinks it doesn't.

Aaron and Lasko are also dating each other in addition to dating Carter. Aaron was initially rough around the edges when it came to interacting with Lasko and getting to know him but with a good conversation, they both managed to work things out between them. Now they both take turns making sure Carter doesn't burn something down on a whim.

That's all folks!🧡

[jaybird-fanfics]

Villain Roommate |Chapter Twenty Four|

Something was off with Dabi. You noticed that ever since that night he left in a hurry, that he had been acting weird. Not only that, but he has been full on avoiding you. Normally you wouldn't think of it like that. Dabi being away for a while and not coming home wasn't anything new. But he was gone longer than he's ever been. The only time you see him is when you're called in by Shigaraki. But Dabi would not speak to you, he barely looked at you. And when he got you home, he left right away. 

At first you thought, maybe you've done something to tick him off, then quickly set aside that thought. As far as you know, you've done nothing to upset him. So why was he acting like this? You couldn't exactly ask him why, as he was never at home now. So you decided to bring it up during your latest visit to the league. 

You did your healing then left, as you were leaving, that's when you asked. "Dabi?" He answered with a barely audible "yeah?". You look up at him, his eyes were set on what was ahead of him. "Why have you been avoiding me?" Dabi didn't answer, he just kept walking until you came upon the set of stairs that would eventually lead out of the warehouse. "Dabi." You say more sternly. "I'm not avoiding you." He finally said. "Yes you are, you don't talk to me anymore, you don't even look at me. Not to mention you haven't been home in forever." You didn't really care much about that last part. He could come and go as much as he wanted. But straight up ignoring you for seemingly no reason was just bothersome.  

"So what's your problem? Because honestly, you're acting like a child and-" You about tripped on one of the stairs, though Dabi was quick to catch you. He made sure you got your footing before walking ahead of you. "I don't have a problem. Maybe I just needed some time to myself." He says. You did actually consider that. But that didn't explain the whole, ignoring you thing. "That's fine if you want some alone time. But I haven't done shit to deserve being ignored."Dabi stopped and turned his head. "So now all of a sudden you crave attention?" He was trying to change the subject.

"No, that's not what I meant! I don't care if you ignore me or not, but at least tell me why." Dabi scoffed. "Sounds like you do care." Annoyance was quickly turning into anger, for the both of you. "Dabi, have I really done something to piss you off? If so, you need to tell me." 

"Why should I?" 

"So have done something then?" You ask. "Never said that." Dabi turned to keep walking. You glare daggers at his back. You quicken your pace and stand in front of him, causing him to stop. "You really are acting like a child you know? You just start avoiding me out of nowhere, you won't tell me why, and when I try to get an answer out of you, you act like a smartass! All I want, is some sort of explanation! Then I'll shut up, you'd like that wouldn't you? So hurry up and tell me already!"

"You're over here bitching and whining, and you're calling me a child?" Dabi tries to move past you. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me why." You say firmly. Dabi stares down at you, unfazed by your threat. "And what's stopping me from making you move?" He said lowly. You didn't back down, you met his cold stare. "Go ahead then." You challenged. "Make me."

Dabi tsked, grabbing your shoulders and pining you against the wall. You were shocked by the sudden action, but didn't let him see it. You continued to stare defiantly into his eyes. His eyes didn't break away from yours, and neither did yours to his. "God, you are so fucking persistent and annoying." He started. "You wanna know so badly? Huh? Fine. I am avoiding you, happy?" 

"No." You say bitterly. "I wanna know why." 

"Because I fucking-" Dabi's voice rose with his anger, but he calmed himself down. "Because you made me do this. It's your fault I feel this way, and now I'm stuck feeling like this." He knew he shouldn't be blaming you for this. But he didn't know any other way to go about it. He doesn't know what to do with himself. "I didn't make you do shit!" You exclaim. 

"I know! Just shut up and fucking listen." Dabi exhales deeply before speaking again. Here goes pretty much everything. He was risking a lot telling you this. And he already knows how you'll react...

"I...I have feelings for you." 

Your eyes went wide at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Dabi. Of all the people in the world. Dabi, had feelings for you. Why? How? What in the fuck was going on right now? You opened you mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. What could you say to that? Thankfully Dabi continued speaking. "I already know you don't feel the same, so spare me the pitiful rejection. You have no idea how much I fucking hate this." Dabi looked down, his hair blocking your view of his face. 

"I can't have feelings for someone. I can't love someone. It's just, not possible for someone like me. No one should be tied down to a person like myself." 

Your shocked expression turned soft, saddened. "Dabi..." You cup his face and made him look at you once again. "What are you trying to say? That you're unlovable or something?" Dabi weakly laughed. "Isn't it obvious? Just look at me. Look where I've landed myself. The shit I've done, the people I've killed. No one wants this." 

"That doesn't mean you're incapable of love." You try to tell him. "You...you're not..." You couldn't find the right words. Dabi was not a good person. He was a dangerous man, a criminal, a villain. He's killed many, and hurt far more. He's involved with a gang of killers alike. But did that mean he was not deserving of love? Many would say yes but, you couldn't go that far. "Dabi, you are deserving of love. No matter who it's from. I might not be able to return those feelings, but that doesn't mean someone else wont. I'm sure there is someone out there who can give you what you want."

Dabi put his hand over yours. "I'm doomed to walk this Earth alone, I made my choice a long time ago."

"No one is born into this world to be alone. Not even you Dabi. You might not like them, but you have the league...you have me. I won't let you be alone." 

Dabi's mouth fell agape, blood fell from the scars under his eyes. Frightened, you begin to panic. "Dabi! You're bleeding! Are you hurt? Hang on, I'll-"

Dabi pulled you into his embrace, his arms tight around your body. You felt his shoulders shaking, his hold on you became tighter, more desperate. Was he...crying? You never seen Dabi cry before. This was, so vulnerable of him. You didn't think he could be like this, no, everyone could be like this. Dabi just has never been like this, around you. You didn't say anything, you just rubbed your hand up and down his back. 

He comforted you once, now it was your turn to do the same. 

"As long as I'm here, you'll never be alone again." You say softly. "I promise."

You and Dabi didn't talk the rest of the way home. What could you say to each other after what happened back there? The both of you walked inside the house, you decided you were going to head to bed, assuming Dabi would just leave again. But what he said, surprised you. 

"Y/n?" He started. "Do you mind if I stay? I don't...I don't want..." 

You turn to him with a gentle smile. "I told you I wouldn't let you be alone, didn't I?" You couldn't believe you were about to do this. You lead Dabi to your bedroom. You couldn't help but feel for him. There were times, when you would feel alone. Want someone's anyone's company, but was met with nothing. You understood, which is why you were doing this. Dabi had only ever slept in the same bed with you once before, and it was because he was drunk. 

But he was fully sober, and aware of what was going on tonight. "I'll keep to myself." Dabi muttered. You chuckle. "Just shut up and get in the bed, I'm exhausted." You say as you get comfortable under the covers. Dabi cracked a smile before joining you. He did what he promised however, he moved to the far edge of the bed, away from you. You give him an appreciative look, but reached for him. "Might as well get comfortable." You tell him. 

He took that as permission to inch closer, but he made sure there was still enough space between the two of you. "Thanks." He said quietly. "For what?" You asked. "For letting me stay, for everything really." 

You ruffle his spiky hair before closing your eyes. "You're welcome, you big softy." 

Previous | Next

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Please share the full analysis on who best fit the betrayal trope I’d love to hear it :’)

For anyone who didn't want to know, blame this anon (lovingly said I'm actually so glad someone asked. idk if youre the same anon or not)

OKAY SO

(Should I put this under a cut? ... NAH. I'll put the other half under the cut)

Going with the supplied dialogue:

Going with a protective view first. The second half will have the character vs listener betrayal aspect.

I'm going to go with the people who this wouldn't apply to.

Sam and Darlin. Sam isn't exactly the betrayal type (Keep in mind, I sadly missed the Bright Eyes arc, so I didn't get to see toxic Sam moments.) and Darlin is not afraid of getting their hands dirty. They prefer doing things themselves, and they don't like getting other people involved. Especially if they care about said people. Now would they gladly be the person that someone sent to get revenge? Probably. They wanted to hunt down Quinn because they harmed their friend. (Honorable mentions to Sam beating the shit out of Quinn for his progeny and such)

The DAMN squad. Maybe this is my own bias coming out, but they all seem pretty logical versus emotion run. I mean, look at the Kody situation. Freelancer literally wanted the least contact involved way of dealing with Kody (they really should have avoided him so they could avoid the trauma of victim-blaming but whatever.) Huxley wanted Freelancer to talk to someone. And he was willing to beat up Kody himself. Same with Damien. Lasko wanted to distance FL and Kody as much as he could, asking about their schedule, ect. FL also stopped Gavin from going to Kody by not sharing the address (I would LOVE and LIVE to see how Gavin would have reacted to hearing that Kody was a bitch to the squad throughout different stages in the E&E Games and the Inversion. Let him go feral like Damien did.) Freelancer is probably the one that keeps everyone from going to jail or the deans office in some kind of way. (Thinking about it now, Gavin/Damien would be the most likely to go behind Freelancer's back to get a physical toll of revenge for them. So maybe they could apply.)

Aaron and Smartass: Follow the law. Murder is kinda against the law in case you didn't realize. This applies to the contemporary boyos. We haven't really seen their listeners face any major threat yet, so we don't have much evidence of how far these boys would go for their loves.

Anton and his Lover: Anton is wholesome.

Morgan and his listener: Self explanatory?

Cam and any of his listeners - While Cam wants to protect people, to the point he erases the memories of his own therapist... murder? Nuh uh.

Moving on to the more likely group but there's still some doubt:

Vincent and Lovely. Vincent killed Adam for harming Lovely. He killed Lovely (technically) to save them. He's not afraid to get his hands dirty. But Lovely is also very tough. They zapped the fuck out of Adam, that it broke his concentration of the wards he was using to protect himself from Vincent. That would probably be the forefront of his focus. Like I present to you this: Stranger who harmed Lovely: I'm fully aware they're trying to kill me. I'd like to see them try. Lovely's friend (Sam maybe...?): You really thought they'd do it themselves? They're not the type to get their hands dirty and you know it. (Here's where the doubt is here. Lovely can handle themselves.) Stranger: They're sending someone? Sam: They sent someone. Stranger: Who? Sam: Who do you think? Next thing that stranger knows their face is pressed to dirty brick of an alley, the texture of the bricks creating micro-tears in their cheek as a voice leans close to their ear. "You messed the fuck up. And now you'll pay for it. Slowly. Painfully. Your screams won't save you but feel free to try." I mean seriously... Vincent CANONICALLY killed for Lovely.

David and Angel: The doubt is here from David's strict moral code. He's not really the type to hurt people. But he's also extremely protective. And Angel is unempowered, so if they're facing a threat that's empowered? You bet your ass he will protect them. Really this could apply to any the wolf boys. Sweetheart tends to handle their own shit though.

Elliot and Sunshine: Is it possible? Yes. But it wouldn't be the first means he goes to. He literally connected with his brother after the department wasn't going to work, instead of just buying a gun.

Avior and Starlight: Avior just gives off protective vibes. I can't really explain it beyond that. He hates it when Starlight is in danger or puts themselves in danger. So yeah. I could see him being sent to save them or sending someone else to discard a threat.

And finally, those who this definitely applies to:

Vega and Warden - Do you really need an explanation for this?

Blake and Bestie - Once again, kinda self explanatory I think.

Brachium and Sunshine - Yall, did you hear him when Blake was threatening Sunshine? His lovers death will feel like a mercy. That line had me shivering.

Regulus and his listener - He literally edited memories to be with them. Killing someone isn't that much of a further stretch.

Hush and Doc - More self explanatory. Doc needs to be there to help though.

James and his spouse - James made comments that he's pretty morally gray, so the fact he was disgusted by the low morals of Marcus was "saying something". With loose morals, comes more opportunities for what lengths he's willing to go to for whatever reasons.

Vega-influenced Ivan and Baby - Loose morals once again.

There's the protective perspective. But we're here for the betrayal. I'm just going to go with those who this WOULD apply to:

Vega and Warden. I know I said that he would kill to protect them... but if they really dedicated themselves to putting him behind bars? What's more manipulative than making it seem like an "accident" happened to his dear Warden by an outside party? Honestly, he's so distraught that he wasn't there to help them to protect themselves so they had to use all their magic against this threat. But don't worry Darling, he'll make sure your sacrifice wasn't in vain.

James. Not to his spouse... but he just gives off those vibes that he will do whatever necessary. But he's also pristine. So he'll send someone to deal with the messy bits while he's the mastermind behind it all.

Hush and Doc. Their relationship isn't really solidified yet, so there's really nothing much to stop him from harming them. Did he express a desire of not wanting to? Sure. But while they were attempting to save him, he was willing to risk their life because he "wanted" to kill Reticuli. So it's not that much of a stretch to say he would kill Doc. But since he has that slight detachment to Elegy, that he needs a proxy to cause harm. So yeah. He would have no issue in using someone else to harm Doc.

Regulus and his listener. Have you heard that audio edit? The one that goes "If I can't have you... *stab sound* no one can." I don't know the extent of his effect on physicality completely, like sure he's a Fallen Empathy Daemon and Caelum can make a mess of FL's kitchen, so clearly they can effect reality. But it's also been made clear that Caelum and Freelancer are an extremely rare case. So maybe that's specific to Caelum and Freelancer as well. But we know Regulus can get deep into people's heads, so I could see him sending someone to harm his listener if a situation where it was necessary presented itself and no other tactics were working.

Those are the most accurate.

But Messy! Who would you want to see, even if there wasn't much logic to support it?

Omg.

Ignoring Echo's whole thing about calling us out on wanting to see David hurting Angel (We already have seen how David reacts when he feels betrayed. He get moody and distant. I don't see him hurting them.)

I want to see Vincent and Lovely. We already got a glimpse of it with the imperium. And the imperium is when decisions are made differently. So there's that small possibility of Vincent hurting Lovely if things were different. Plus the fact he also is likely with the protective route of that dialogue? MMMM the flavors are melting on my tongue! MMM this really hits the spot.

Sam and Darlin. They're so fluffy with each other. They were a slowburn. I want it break. i want to watch it slowly shatter until the trust is broken and then they just feel stuck in a bitter situation with each other. I want to see them miserable.

The DAMN squad. Platonic-wise... friendship groups falling apart is something I eat up. We saw a bit of it during the aftershock since everyone was kind of drifting apart from each other as they all tried to cope with what happened and with the survivors guilt. I loved that, angst wise. I want to watch it break apart.

[skekilla]

some rough concepting sketches of my girlfriend’s bsd guy, arthur conan doyle!!! im her personal illustrator dfjdfg

he works with charles as a PI! but since arthur is even more introverted than arthur and way too tired to go out and do things, hes mostly like... the investigator, while charles goes and does stuff they need for the investigation. its also because arthur’s ability is one really suited to investigative work! his ability is essentially that he has a little demon on his shoulder (kinda like mark twain’s ability how it gives him huckleberry finn and tom sawyer) who is called sherlock and who knows. fucking. everything. but the thing that sucks is that sherlock is a BITCH and a SMARTASS. he just wont fucking shut up and thats why arthur barely gets any sleep. he also tells him things he doesnt want to know unprompted, which is how arthur found out about charles’ murders... but when he said he’d keep them a secret as long as charles left him alone, charles considered himself forever in arthur’s debt and the two became friends and started their PI agency!

sherlock can also be like, made into a full-sized person that other people can see if arthur wants to make him. this sherlock can touch stuff, but if he gets hurt at all, he immediately poofs back in to arthur’s head as a little imp guy instead hehe. but anyway, when he does sometimes need to come on missions with charles, arthur loves to use sherlock as a human shield!!

arthur’s gonna get more lore soon!! she just needs to write it hehe. im probably gonna draw more of him and charles together soon cause theyre so silly and goofy heheee

[cderiva]

——----------— RIZ NASSER —-—----—-—

status: active, asks welcome, open for platonic and romantic dynamics

INDEX

development / inside his brain / visuals / memery

 I. INTRO

FULL NAME:    Riz Fahmi AGE: verse dependent - anywhere from teens - 30s DATE OF BIRTH: HAIR/EYE COLOUR:  dark brown / dark green OCCUPATION:   Semi-Grade 1 sorcerer INTRO: Twin. Honestly? An arrogant son of a bitch ( thinks not being so is a waste of time and just allows people to walk all over you ). Loves putting people on the spot - thinks it's funny. Confident to a fault. Speaks five languages ( japanese, arabic, english, greek, italian, armenian ). Was presumed dead at some point and weirdly takes pride in it. Grew up extremely well-off and well-connected but now his family is low-key broke. Has always been an adventurous and independent kid, always very sure of himself, and never minded spending time away from his family. Was considered the twin that didn't take anything seriously, but is now the twin that takes care of everything because his brother had a mental breakdown. Has extremely good memory and is a very fast reader. Surprisingly to many, still good friends with most of his exs.

 II. PHYSICALITY

— STATS

Dexterity 6/10 Stamina 9/10 Wits 7/10 Pain tolerance 8/10 Precision 7/10 Creativity 6/10 Initiative 9/10 Strength 8/10 Recovery 8/10 Speed 7/10 Teamwork 510 Perception 7/10

— FIGHT TECHNIQUE AND SKILLS: 

wip

Cursed technique :

wip

— STYLE 

wears bright colours, and patterns like he doesn’t give a fuck (and he doesn’t).

big fan of leather jackets

has a huge collection of sunglasses

II. PSYCHE

GENERALLY:  "you gotta walk into the room like god sent you" vibes, but is also surprisingly easy going and casual given his massive ego. he's genuinely very confident (perhaps overly so), a bit of a smartass, likes to know he's the smartest person in the room.

WHEN SAD:  finds sadness unproductive but sometimes you can't rationalize yourself out of sadness and if he finds that he can't snap out of it, he'll work out a lot a lot more than usual.

WHEN ANGRY: absolutely vicious and vindictive.

WHEN HAPPY: wip

WHEN IN LOVE:   wip

MOTIVATIONS: wip

BLIND SPOTS: wip

MINOR GOALS/AMBITIONS/DESIRES: he's a simple man: travel a lot, eat a lot, fuck a lot, read a lot, make a lot of money, get married, die old and happy.

ACHILLES HEEL: being challenged, he seldom can walk away from them, and feeling like his ego has been bruised.

FEARS / PHOBIAS:  deep waterl // does not vibe with swimming in general // failing to live up to his own ideals //

 III. BIOGRAPHY

SORCERER VERSE TLDR:

Early years

Teenagerhood 

Sorcery

Adulthood 

VI. MISC INFORMATION:

watched a lot of indiana jones and wanted to be an archeologist when he was a kid

[licensedqueerio]

Gareth Emerson Headcanons No One Asked For

So these are just my headcanons, that could totally be out of character, but idk. I wish we had more content with him

Also, some info isn't correct like their ages, but idc. I wrote this super late at night so it's probably unorganized and stuff, but I hope you enjoy

(i also update this whenever I think of something else abt him)

• His full name is Gareth Benjamin Emerson II bc I said so

• that's where Gareth The Great comes from

• he wants the distinction that he's the great one

• he's the middle child

• his sister, Carys is three years older than him and moved out to go to college

• his other sister, Gwyneth is 8

• his parents are bigshot lawyers in Indianapolis so most of the time it's only him and Gwyn at home

• idk I love the idea of older brother Gareth

• (Gareth puts Gwyn in after school programs, which is how he does Hellfire)

• He matches other people's energies. Like the energy someone gives him is the energy he throws back

• Ex: when Jason yelled at him and Gareth yelled back the exact same way

• The man is brutally honest

• Unnecessarily brutal tho

• He can and will insult someone by complete accident

• He's also super aggressive when he plays the drums

• Slamming on his kit and screaming to their newest song

• As one does

• He breaks his sticks ridiculously often

• (He likes to throw them around, especially at Eddie)

• Speaking of Eddie

• They met when they were decently young

• Around middle school

• Gareth was the kid who was effortlessly cool

• Eddie, on the other hand, was trying SO HARD to be cool

• He was going for the whole punk rock thing when he buzzed his head

• He made it his mission to befriend Gareth at any cost

• But Gareth HATED him

• Well, hatred is a strong word. He didn't care for Eddie like Eddie cared for him

• Gareth just wanted to be by his lonesome, as edgy middle schoolers do

• But Eddie is persistent and will not leave this boy alone

• It doesn't matter that Gareth is two years younger than him

• He wants Gareth to be his friend and that's final

• They eventually become friends when they realize they both like D&D

• When they get to highschool tho

• The dynamic flips

• Since Eddie's older, he has two years to become the Cool Kid that attracts the other freaks and weirdos

• Gareth was kinda scared they wouldn't be friends anymore

• But Eddie doesn't let go of Gareth

• They're besties

• Gareth was Eddie's first bandmate and the first member of Hellfire

• Gareths 'queer awakening' was Eddie but nothing ever happen other than a kiss or two when Eddie was high

• Gareth doesn't do drugs

• He drinks tho

• He has a very strange moral code that only he understands

• Also he was the first one to get a car out of all his friends

• He drives like a mad man

• Do not let this man behind the wheel

• Speed limits are merely a suggestion

• He also doesn't know what it means to gradually brake. He slams on those bitches

• (only when Gwyn's not in the car, he's not an irresponsible brother, thank you very much)

• He gets better eventually

• Eddie learns to drive so he can properly teach Gareth (who taught himself)

• He constantly taps the steering wheel

• Even if there's no music playing

• Gareth is loud and he is chaotic

• He probablys has some sort of undiagnosed adhd

• But y'know, it's the 80s. Mental illness doesn't exist or whatever

• Gareth is just trying to live his life's you know?

• Oh also, this boy has attitude for DAYS

• Like holy shit

• He can talk shit like no one else

• It's only when he's really mad tho

• He just runs his mouth and he doesn't know when to stop

• But the things he says are genuinely true and his insults hit home and it pisses the other person off

• As a result, Gareth is decently fast bc getting beat up isn't fun

• He's got into his share of fights tho

• But he usually avoids them

• He's more bark than bite. But his bark is totally worse

• He either had a septum or a nose ring

• He's the type to judge movies the entire time it's on

• He makes smartass comments under his breath

• Laughs at inappropriate times

• (Like when a character dies)

• He only drinks red drinks

• Or from red cans

• Dr pepper is his best friend

• He also loves cherry anything

• He'd be the red character

But now onto some dating hcs

• He likes to hold hands

• A LOT

• He's just a big fan of physical contact

• He also loves when his hair is played with

• His love language is gift giving

• Well moreso just giving in general

• His rings, clothes, etc

• He just gives them to his partner randomly

• ALSO ROCKS

• he collects rocks

• He's been doing it since he was a kid

• He probably has one of those jars that you put a rock in when ur happy

• He has a lot of rocks in his jar

• He's given all his friends a rock

• Eddie has several

• His partner also has many

• He would be so happy to find out you actually keep them

• Whenever you guys go on a date, he gives you a rock

• He also has a rock and he writes the date on it

• He starts a new jar just for the date-rocks

• Those are extra special, he finds the best rocks he can for you and him

• But moving on from rocks

• He invites you to his shows

• And band practice

• Eddie hates it bc he gets distracted

• But he gets so happy when he sees you watching him play

• He plays extra well

• Once he can take his eyes off you that is

• But let's rewind to the beginning of your relationship

• You meet him through Eddie

• After a few days of hanging out together he invited you to dinner

• (You order takeout and go back to his place)

• It's nice, it's just the two of you in his bedroom, the dim tv illuminating it

• He confesses to you right when you take a drink of whatever it is you're drinking

• You choke

• And Gareth ofc laughs bc that's who he is

• But you say you like him back and viola

• You're dating

• He's fond of drive-in movie dates

• Even though it's like an hour drive to the next city where the theater is

• He's a movie geek

• It's definitely his sister's fault

• Both of them

• You think it's adorable tho

• HE TALKS THROUGH MOVIES

• THE WHOLE TIME

• HE MAKES SMARTASS COMMENTS UNDER HIS BREATH

• And you're sitting next to him just cracking up at his commentary

• Bc really, it's entertaining

• He calls you all kinds of different nicknames

• He's looking for one to stick

• So he just had a continual rotating arsenal of nicknames that he likes to use

• Your nicknames for him usually revolve around drumming

• He's not amused

• You are tho, teasing him is your favorite pastime

• And he just stares at you with his flat, deadpan look

• His arms crossed and everything

• He teases you back ofc, but sometimes you can't tell when he's joking bc of his tone

• But that's what makes it fun

[mackio-o]

The AOT characters and their MBTI types:

Warnings: none really except for swearing and major spoilers on season 2 and 4 for the show

Eren: ESFP

(extroverted • sensing • feeling • perceiving)

Some may disagree but I feel like eren could be both introverted and extroverted honestly. However I believe his true true self is in fact and ESFP especially in a modern universe. And the rest goes unsaid. He’s definitely more of an observer than he is intuitive he has a thick skull and he’d have to really pay attention to something to understand what’s going on. His emotions lead him more than anything and I mean its pretty self explanatory he committed mass genocide just to protect his friends.

Armin: INFJ

(Introverted • intuitive • feeling • judging)

I say this with my chest. Mans is an INFJ. Introverted as fuck. Intuitive as fuck smartass. Feeling as fuck sensitive mf. And very outspoken. There see. I’m right.

Mikasa: ISTJ

(Introverted • sensing • thinking • judging)

I really don’t wanna have to explain myself this is very self explanatory.

Levi: INTJ

(Introverted • intuitive • thinking • judging)

Fight me. Everybody argues that Levi is an ISTP bitch where. Literally where. This mf is intuitive as fuck he can smell bullshit a mile away. This man would sense ur bullshit right away and call you out on it infront of everyone. Intuitive judger. Don’t fuck with him he’s scary. Have you seen his bitch face ??? Also the classic INTJ cold exterior warm interior signature is here which only makes my point ten times more accurate 🙄🙄

Hanji: ENTP

(extroverted • intuitive • thinking • perceiving)

God this is so so so so so self explanatory and clear. I’ll just say this you know who else is an enfp? Gojo and Ryuk. That’s literally all I have to say.

Erwin: ENTJ

(extroverted • intuitive • thinking • judging)

Scary politician man. Ten steps ahead. Kind of toxic and really annoyingly persuasive, you can’t even argue with these mfs it’s so hard to articulate a good counter argument literally the best comeback you could come up with is “ur mom”.

“…Therefore I hereby sentence you to 10 years in prison, do you have any final statements?”

“uh ur mom”

“…make it 20 smh”

Jean: ISFJ

(Introverted • sensing • feeling • judging)

I really really can’t explain this it just makes sense to me. He could possibly be an estp???? I mean he’s a player and he’s full of himself sorry for using stereotypes it just makes sense to me that he’s an ISFJ but I could be persuaded otherwise.

Sasha: ENFP

(extroverted • intuitive • feeling • perceiving)

Ah the best personality type 😌 totally unbiased. This is very very very clear and self explanatory so cute and pure and sassy. Sunshine.

Connie: ENFP

(extroverted • intuitive • feeling • perceiving)

It might be cliché that I put Sasha and Connie as the same type. But it is completely accurate and true and you can take it up with Isayama for making them soulmates and completely perfect twins. I miss them

Historia: ENFJ

(extroverted • intuitive • feeling • judging)

the classic angel, swan, dreamy, piscean vibes that goes with enfj. She’s a classic classic enfj and it’s so pretty and cute and just very fitting (can u tell I like enfj??) #enfjenvy

Ymir: ISTP

(Introverted • sensing • thinking • perceiving)

I know I know. I’m a genius 😌 this is so accurate it’s not even funny just to show u how much this is true here are some ISTP characters; Say-beok from squid game, Rue Bennet from Euphoria, Toph from avatar, Ash from banana fish, Dabi from mha and fucking Eminem bro. I’m a fucking genius. Thank you and goodnight.

Reiner: ESFJ

(extroverted • sensing • feeling • judging)

I really really can’t explain this I just know it in my heart to be true. Do ur own research abt them if u don’t believe me 🙄🙄

Annie: INTP

(Introverted • intuitive • thinking • perceiving)

This is completely an opinion I haven’t really analyzed her character that well but I genuinely believe she’s an intp. It’s just so fitting for her character and I doubt she would’ve gotten away with being the female titan and hiding it so well if she wasn’t intuitive. Also it’s very in character of an intp to isolate themselves when they don’t want to get attached to the people around them.

Anyway that’s all I’m gonna do for today if you have requests for any more characters leave an ask or something. Same goes for requests. I hope you enjoyed me ranting abt mbti lol byeyyeyeyeyeye <33

[ragingbookdragon]

The Vampire's Masquerade PT. 1

A Jason Todd x Vampire!Reader Story

Word Count: 14,610 Warnings: NSFW (Smut), Explicit Language, Violence, Mentions of Past Assault and Abuse

Author's Note: I made a story mixing DC and Skyrim and you're going to like it because that's what I've put on your plate. I've chaptered the story but Tumblrs a bitch and I can't post the entire thing so I'm going to do two parts. But it's still going to take forever to read. Enjoy! :) -Thorne

**********************************************************************

There’d only been a handful of times in his life where’d he’d been truly afraid. So afraid that his throat would tighten to the point he’d lose air, adrenaline pumping through his veins, making every motion lightning fast, hands and knees shaking for fear of what would come. One hand was all he needed to count that many times, but this made two.

He’d run out of ammunition moments before but even then, it didn’t matter because the bullets didn’t seem to even affect the creatures in the slightest. The All-Blades had been knocked out of his hands from the last hit that had sent him back into the concrete pillar—through it actually and slamming into the wall. Every bone in his body creaked under the strain as he slid down the wall, collapsing onto his side with a low groan that broke into a cough as blood splattered across the cobblestone.

His sides ached with a fury too, and he was still reeling from the fact that it hadn’t been a weapon, but claws—nails—that had slashed through his tri-weave, titanium body armor, like a hot knife through butter. He pressed one hand against his bleeding side and coughed again, clambering to his feet, though he stumbled back to a kneeling position when his left knee gave out.

A hissing laugh echoed around the courtyard and he looked up, glaring at the group coming back towards him, though his anger was short lived when one of them threw their hand down by their side and those silver nails glinted in the moonlight.

“You were foolish to come alone, human,” one of them growled, cocking their arm back, and in a flash, they were coming at him faster than any human could move, even someone like him.

This was it. He was going to die again, and he didn’t even know what was going to kill him.

But he wasn’t a coward, and he wasn’t going to shut his eyes at his final moments. He steeled himself, waiting for the nails to pierce his throat when his attacker suddenly reared back with a sharp cry of pain and black blood splattered across his skin as their arm dropped to the ground, severed from their body.

The other creatures gathered around the wounded one and they all seemed to hiss at something darting around in the dark courtyard and behind the pillars. He couldn’t tell what it was because it was too fast—much faster than these things he was fighting. And bigger too. He watched in shock as each creature dropped to their knees then pitched forwards, torsos hitting the ground. He brought the back of his hand to his mouth when their heads rolled away, one tumbling right up to his boot.

They were dead but his relief was short lived as a low growl sounded above him and he drug his eyes up the giant dark mass in front of him and his jaw went slack. At least the things that were trying to kill him looked human, but this thing didn’t. And he only caught flashes in the moonlight as it took a step towards him, and the cobble cracked under the heavy stomp.

It had to be at least eight feet tall and at least seven hundred pounds if that hulking frame was any help. Suddenly it spread outwards and he sucked in a breath when he realized it was the wingspan of its large, gray wings, the tips of them pointed with long black horns. He finally got a full glimpse of its body, covered in a ragged black dress, and adorned with glinting golden jewelry and rubies.

He drew his eyes up to it’s face and he felt his heart stutter in his chest and trepidation burst through his veins at the mouth that was opened, and he saw two rows of serrated white teeth and four, long razor-sharp canines. Its eyes were glowing a crimson, locked on him and it raised an impossibly honed, clawed hand, reaching towards him.

He backpaddled away from it until his back connected with something hard and he looked behind him, seeing the wall.

“Shit,” he cursed and turned back around, and he couldn’t fight the whimper that escaped him when he saw the talons right in front of his face, curled into a fist. “Please,” he begged, and the hand uncurled and before he knew what was happening, a green light shot out of its palm and hit him in the forehead.

Peace washed over him in waves, and he swayed as his eyelids drooped, and the last thing he saw was the creature reaching out to him with both hands before it all went dark.

***

He drifted along the edges of unconsciousness for hours until he was finally able to make his body wake up enough to clear the haze from his mind. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was somewhere unfamiliar—the smell around him wasn’t one he recognized, like herbs and sharp metal.

Cracking his eyes open, he caught sight of what looked like a woman standing in front of a table. Her arms were moving, and he couldn’t see what she was doing, but the gentle scrape of what sounded like a pestle and mortar reached his ears. He took a moment to scan his surroundings.

The room was small and quaint, with wine red walls and black furniture, oddities hung on the wall and he squinted when he thought he saw a bird sitting atop a perch. He blinked and sure enough, the bird’s head turned sideways, a single beady eye gazing at him as it tipped its head down.

He started to sit up when he heard, “Don’t move. You’ll tear your stiches.”

She turned and walked over to him, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Silently, she reached down beside the bedside table and he heard splashing, then she brought up a wet rag and started wiping his chest and abdomen.

“Who are you?” he asked, voice hoarse and scratchy from sleep.

Her eyes didn’t shift from his sun kissed skin as she drug the rag over his abs. “My name is (Y/N) Storm-Strider. But you can call me (Y/N). What is your name?” she inquired, softly.

“Jason,” he murmured and a particular spot on his side made him wince and she halted immediately, looking for signs of discomfort on his face. “Are you alright?”

He grunted and shifted slightly. “It’s a little tender.”

She hummed and picked up a little bottle from the bedside table, using her teeth to pull out the cork. “This will sting a bit, but it will help,” she murmured and with one hand, rested the rag beneath the stitched wound, the other pouring the oozing green liquid over the area.

“Shit,” Jason hissed, feeling it sting viciously for a few moments before it started to dull and ultimately numb.

Evidently, she knew what would happen because she smirked and prodded the area with a stiletto nailed finger. “Feel better now?”

He huffed a laugh. “Can’t feel anything actually.”

“Yes, that’s what a paralytic agent will do.”

“I’m sorry, paralytic?” Jason repeated, blinking at her and she nodded.

“It’s paralyzed the nerves in that particular area.”

“What about healing?”

“Oh, that’s the joy of alchemy, darling. If one is skilled enough, they can negate negatives from potions while keeping certain aspects intact.” Suddenly, her eyes turned serious as she stared at him. “To your knowledge, were you bitten by any of the creatures you were fighting?”

“I don’t think—” he went silent, eyes narrowing as he asked, “How do you know that I was fighting?”

(Y/N) cocked a brow. “Who do you think saved you?”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “You mean that…thing…was you?” she merely smiled in return and he shook his head, feeling dumbfounded. “I thought…I thought you were going to kill me.”

She barked a laugh and rinsed the rag before wringing it again and wiping up his chest. “Hardly, darling. I haven’t killed someone of your kind in at least a few decades.” Her eyes narrowed as she admonished, “But I have to say it was foolish to enter a vampire’s coven with no protection.”

There was so much about that criticism that Jason wanted to open up but only one thing stuck out. “Vampires?”

(Y/N) met his teal eyes and smiled, revealing a set of pearly white teeth, and two pointed canines. “I can hear your heart racing,” she commented, then reached up and wiped the blood from his cheek. “You needn’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you.”

“They did,” he shot back, and she chuckled.

“Well, that’s because you were fresh blood and you stepped into their lair.” She gave him a knowing look. “By all counts they were in their right to slit your throat and feast on your blood.” Her eyes narrowed amusedly. “After they ravaged you alive, of course. Vampires are known for desecrating the living.”

His mouth opened then it closed, and he thought a moment before asking, “If you’re one of them too…why did you kill them?”

(Y/N) hummed and set the rag on the nightstand before taking his face in her hands, tilting it left and right and up and down. She was looking for something, but Jason wasn’t sure what it was. “To be completely honest I’d been planning on it. I was waiting for a better time but when Nevermore told me there was a live human vigilante engaged in a fight with them, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Nevermore?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion, and she tipped her head back to the bird sitting atop the perch.

“Raven.”

He blinked and deadpanned, “You named your raven, ‘Nevermore’?” a snort passed his lips. “Poe fan much?”

She scowled and with her pointers and thumbs, spread his eyelids open so she could examine at his eyes. “It was a fitting name for an elegant bird, smartass.” She shifted her fingers and opened his mouth, looking at his teeth. “You didn’t answer my question earlier. Do you remember if one of them bit you?”

After she removed her fingers, he shook his head. “I don’t think any of them did.”

(Y/N) frowned, brows furrowed as she stood from the bed and moved to the window. She unlatched it and pushed them open before turning and holding out her arm.

“Nevermore, come,” she commanded lowly, and the bird landed on her arm. Her fingernails scratched lightly under his chin and she murmured, “Go to the grounds and fetch me some nightshade and bloodroots. We’ll need to concoct a cure for him just in case.”

The raven replied with low croak and flew out the open windows and she turned to him. “Nevermore will come back soon with the ingredients I need to make your cure, but since there will be a wait, I’d prefer you stay so I can monitor your possible condition.”

“You think I might become one of you?” he questioned, forcing himself to sit up despite her earlier warning. Now he was really worried. “How long do I have? What’s going to—”

(Y/N) shushed him with a raised hand. “Peace, Jason. Vampirism is a long process that takes many days. But it takes many painful days.” She replied and moved back to sit on the bed. “You might not be opposed to becoming one, but at the same time, one should choose vampirism for themselves, not fall prey and contract it without their expressed consent.”

She raised a hand and rested it on his chest, just above his heart and promised, “Please do not worry or be afraid. I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a complete recovery.”

Something warm bubbled in his chest, perhaps the sincerity of her words or maybe the calming trust that bled from her auburn eyes that glowed dimly, like embers of a fire.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” Jason murmured, cheeks warming as she pulled her hand away and smiled.

“Are you hungry or thirsty at all?” she asked, rising from the bed. “I’d be more than happy to make you something to eat or get you something to drink.”

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling exhausted and he shook his head. “No, I think I’ll get some rest if that’s alright with you?”

(Y/N) hummed and opened the door, but just as she stepped out, she paused and turned back around, saying, “You needn’t be scared of anything harming you in this home, Jason. You can rest peacefully knowing you are completely secure.”

He trusted her—which was a first because he didn’t usually trust strangers, but he nodded and offered her a tired smile, one she returned and closed the door behind her. He shimmied back into a laying position, resting his head on the fluffy pillow, his eyes turning to the moon still in the sky. Jason stared at it, all the thoughts of what he’d learned running through his head, and he inhaled deeply, before shutting his eyes, and drifted back into sleep.

***Chapter Two***

Something cold and wet was touching his side and it made him twitch in his sleep, face contorting as he shifted away. He exhaled and his expression eased, but a moment later the cold, wet thing was pressed against his side againand before he could open his eyes, he heard a low whine.

With furrowed brows, he opened his eyes and looked down to his right, seeing a wrinkly faced dog with slobbering jowls propping its chin in the elbow of Jason’s arm, his nose pressed into his skin.

Jason snorted and reached over, scratching the dog behind one of its floppy ears. “And who are you?” The dog shook its neck and the tag on its collar jingled, prompting him to look at it. Fang the Boarhound. It read.

“Really? She named the dog ‘Fang’?” Jason rolled his eyes. “What a bookworm.” He looked down at him. “Fang the Boarhound, huh?”

The dog let out a low groan in response, head shifting to bite at the long pants Jason was wearing. He tugged on the fabric as if telling him to come on and Jason laughed heartily.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting up,” he chuckled, and Fang relented, bounding out of the bedroom. He rolled out of the bed and paused to examine himself. Every wound along his body, especially those long gouge marks from the claws had sealed up and he couldn’t fight the impressed feeling that went through him.

He tied the jogger laces tighter around his waist and walked through the door, though he stopped when he was faced with a long hallway and a lot more doors. One was at each end of the hallway and there were two on one side of the hallway, one on the other, and then a rather large opening. Jason figured that was the entry way and he tiptoed down the black carpet.

As he neared the entrance, a big black cat padded out of the opening and sat in front of him, staring up at him with golden eyes. The cat was huge, and he recognized it as a Maine Coon. A very friendly one as it pranced over to him and mewled until he opened his arms and it hopped into them.

He scratched its chin, cooing, “Aren’t you a pretty kitty?” It meowed and flopped in his arms, tucking itself under his chin and Jason huffed a laugh as he walked through the entryway, immediately entering the living room. It was wine red just like the bedroom he’d left, and the furniture was dark as well.

Jason scanned the area and saw a light coming from his left; he walked over and entered the little kitchen area, seeing (Y/N) bent over the counter, Fang pressed into her side.

“No, Fang, you already ate.” She admonished. “You’re gonna get fat if you keep eating.”

He tipped his head back and let out a howl.

“Oh, is that right, big boy? You’re still hungry?” Fang grumbled and she smiled, pulling something out of her pocket. “Alright, here you go.” He took it from her and chewed on it, and she turned, grinning at Jason.

“I see Salem found you,” she remarked, walking over to scratch the cat’s belly. “Handsome boy.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, wouldn’t leave me alone until I picked him up.”

(Y/N) giggled. “That’s how he works.” She took Salem from him, smiling at how the cat mewled. “Go and do something productive, Salem.” The cat took off and she met Jason’s gaze. “Are you hungry?”

His mouth opened, but his stomach answered with a fierce growl and he felt his cheeks get hot as she snorted.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she replied and turned around, grabbing something from the counter. (Y/N) spun back around and handed him a plate.

Jason took it from her and glanced down at it. There was a panini sandwich with meat and cheese and various fruits surrounding it.

“Thank you,” he said, and she smiled.

“Table’s in the living room,” she said and walked around him, leaving him to follow.

She’d already pulled a chair out when he got there and he sat down, his hunger keeping him from conversation as he began to eat, her merely watching.

After he finished the first half of his sandwich, he happened to look up just as another cat was jumping into (Y/N)’s lap, this one black too like Salem, but sleeker and spotted, and peering at him with big turquoise eyes.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Don’t you have enough pets around here? Two cats, a mastiff, a raven. That’s a lot for one woman.”

(Y/N) grinned and ran her nails down the cat’s back, smile widening when it chirped. “I’ve got one more actually, but he’s probably not going to come out until he finds himself sure of your character.”

“Dog or cat?”

“Half-wolf, actually,” she corrected. “His name’s White-Fang.”

Jason shook his head. “What is it with you and naming your pets after animals in books?”

She shrugged. “I think their names are fitting.”

“What’s the cat’s name?” he asked, nodding at the one in her lap.

“His name is Pharaoh,” she murmured, gently scratching under his chin. “He’s an Egyptian Mau. I thought the name was appropriate for the breed.” She paused. “I’m surprised he came out so easily. Pharoah usually follows White-Fangs rather anti-social nature.” Her eyes met his. “He must sense you a good character.”

Jason wanted to counter that statement, but he simply grunted and popped a grape in his mouth. “Can I ask you a question?”

(Y/N) hummed. “I assume you’ve got many you want to ask?” he nodded, and she hummed. “Just remember curiosity killed the cat.”

He huffed. “I’ll keep it in mind.” Jason gazed at her. “If those things were vampires like you…why’d you kill them?”

“Gotham has been vampiric territory for almost three centuries. Vampires like myself, who are capable of taking on another form, are tasked with keeping our kind in check.”

“You mean keeping the discovery of the supernatural a secret.”

She nodded. “That particular group has been extending itself higher and deeper into the Gotham elite. My fear was that they would try to induct some of the socialites into their coven.” Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t need to consult the council to know what would happen if that occurred, so I took care of the problem before it came.”

“The council?” Jason questioned.

“The Vampiric Council. They’re responsible for overlooking all vampiric territories around the world. Really, the chain of command designates they overlook my position and I overlook lesser vampires around here.” (Y/N) sipped a glass of some red liquid he hoped wasn’t blood. “Though I haven’t been a part of the council nor its lapdog order in centuries.”

He gave her an odd look. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady’s age, but you keep saying centuries. How old are you exactly?”

(Y/N) chuckled, setting down her glass. “Do you want the age I was turned or how old I am now?”

“Both?” he quipped with a grin and she matched it.

“Hmm…I was turned when I was twenty-eight and I’m now…?” her face scrunched up. “Divines, how long ago was it when the Greeks lived?”

“About ten thousand years ago. Probably longer if you sit down and examine human history if I’m being honest.”

(Y/N) hummed. “Then I’m about ten-thousand and twenty-eight years old, give or take a few decades.”

Jason’s jaw went slack, and he simply gaped at her for a full minute. “…Are you shitting me?” he blurted out. “You lived before the Greeks were in their prime?”

She nodded and sipped her glass again. “Actually, this particular dimension wasn’t the one I was born into.” She waved a hand. “The dimension I’m originally from is much, much older.”

“How’d you manage interdimensional traveling?”

“Through sheer dumb luck and bad footing,” she griped, then let out a heavy sigh. “I was exploring a draugr ruin with a friend and somehow we came across the portal, though it was inactive.”

“And I assume the need for adventure made you curious about how to get it going again?”

(Y/N)’s eyes shifted to her glass as she murmured, “You’d assume correctly. We combined our magics and got it to come to life, but something must’ve malfunctioned. As old as the ruin was, I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.” She swirled the liquid. “My friend was sucked into it and I reacted, trading places with her.”

She looked up and met Jason’s eyes. “She was safe, and I fell through. I ended up in Neolithic Greece, as it’s referred to now.”

He wasn’t sure he should be so shocked. Honestly, he’d probably seen and heard more stunning things but still, her age and story were incredible.

“You’re really that old?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I am.”

“How’d you manage to survive this long?”

“I wasn’t some helpless babe when I came here, Jason. I knew how to take care of myself. Whether it was shelter and nutrition or fighting.”

Fighting was something Jason could work with.

“What do you prefer to fight with?” he asked, and she shrugged.

“I’ve mastered one handed and two-handed weapons. And I’ve mastered most if not all, hand-to-hand combat-styles. But if I’m being honest, I prefer daggers and magic. It’s easier to take down targets with stealth.”

“What type of magic do you use?” Jason questioned curiously. Being trained by the All-Caste meant magic was a common in his repertoire.

(Y/N) paused and thought a moment. “Well…there’s a few different schools to the aspect of magic. Five to be exact.” Her face pinched. “Six, if you count Necromancy, but technically that falls underneath one of the five.”

“Necromancy? Like summoning dead? Bringing them back to life?”

Before she could respond, something tapped at the window and she looked over the loveseat to the glass, and hurriedly placed a grunting Pharaoh on the table as she made her way over. Cracking the window open, Nevermore hopped onto her wrist and she held her other hand out, smiling when he dropped a bundle into her palm.

“Good boy?” he crooned, and she nodded.

“Good boy, indeed,” she cooed, pressing her lips to his beak. Nevermore fluttered from her wrist to the table and started preening Pharoah who rolled onto his back and let him.

Her eyes found Jason’s and she held up the bundle. “I’ve got the ingredients needed to make your cure, Jason.”

“How long will it take?”

“Less than an hour.” (Y/N) walked around the table and headed through the entryway, Jason scrambling from his seat to follow after her, more curious than anything.

She opened one of the doors on the left of the hallway and he was surprised to see how big the bedroom was. “Master bedroom?”

“Upset I put you in the guest room?” she teased, and he snorted, watching as she walked over to a chest and bent down, opening it. (Y/N) pulled a few bottles out and shut it before rising once more and exiting her room, Jason still following as they moved back to the guest room.

He watched as she started pulling the nightshade petals off the stem and putting them in the mortar and grinding them. After she was apparently satisfied, she dropped in the bloodroots and started grinding them into a mixture that smelled absolutely foul. (Y/N) picked it up and scraped it into a bowl, then added the bottles of oils and liquids that she’d taken from the chest.

When she was finished, she turned and bypassed him, moving to the bedside table where the oil lamp was burning. She set the bowl on top and left it there, sitting on the bed.

“It will take time for the mixture to boil and form,” she explained, and he took a seat beside her.

“Thank you for doing this, (Y/N),” he murmured, and she nodded.

“I do it because it is not something you’ve chosen, but I must request a favor in return.” Jason motioned for her to continue. “The knowledge of my existence? Of Gotham being vampiric territory? Of the council? You must keep it a secret. From everyone, even those you trust the most.”

He stared at her for a moment. “I can do that, but why?”

(Y/N) sighed and gazed at her hands. “Jason, I’ve been living here in Gotham since before the American Revolution. This city has always been vampiric territory and I’ve been overseeing it for all this time.” Her gaze shifted to him. “I don’t want to pack up and leave because knowledge of supernatural existence has been revealed. It would only cause problems for both our kinds. Hell, for all kinds of supernatural.”

“There’s more?”

“Werewolves, fairies, nymphs, anything you can think of it exists.”

Jason blinked. “…Wow that’s…a lot of otherworldly beings.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh. “You’ve no idea.” She reached over and took his hand. “But I need you to swear to me that you will keep this secret. Do not tell anyone where you were the other night or what you were fighting. I’ve already disposed of the bodies and cleaned the area. No one will ever know besides us and I need it to stay that way.”

He nodded. “I will. I swear.”

She smiled and pulled her hand away. “Thank you, Jason.”

For a few moments they sat in silence, then he leaned over and asked, “So…tell me about those magic schools.”

Clapping her hands together, she chirped, “Oh, I forgot I was talking about that!” she held up a fist. “There are five schools. Restoration, Alteration, Illusion, Conjuration, and Destruction.” With every category she raised a finger.

“And Necromancy?”

“Falls under Conjuration. Each school is different, Destruction and Conjuration speak for themselves, as does Restoration. Alteration is the school of magic where it affects the world around it by altering the laws of reality and manipulating it to one's own accord, allowing you to cast spells such as water-breathing, paralysis, and dragonhide armor.”

“Illusion,” she started. “involves manipulating the mind of the enemy, allowing one to cast spells like fear, calm, and invisibility.”

Jason cocked a brow. “That spell you used on me, the one that made me pass out. Was that a calming spell?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I was worried you’d start fighting me, so I did the easiest thing. Set your mind at ease and allowed your body to rest.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it for a second, then asked, “Will you show me some spells?”

She smirked. “I thought you’d never ask.” (Y/N) raised a hand. “The school of Destruction focuses on the elevation and perfection of three basic spells: fire, frost, and sparks.” The sharp smell of magic wafted up his nose and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up when she willed the purple electricity to her fingers.

“Each spell can be elevated to the master level of fire storm, blizzard, and lighting storm. All devastating spells. There are also spells that can cause health absorption from your enemies.” She smiled. “I’m favorable of those.”

“What are your favorite destruction spells?” he questioned, and she thought for a moment.

“I’m favorable to two: unbounded storms and the touch of death. Both are incredibly effective on the battlefield, though the touch of death is useful for stealth killings.”

Jason’s lips pulled in a satisfactory way. “That’s impressive. I’d love to see those in action sometime.” He smiled at her. “Show me the invisibility spell.”

“Say please,” she countered, and he chuckled.

“Pretty please.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes and waved her hand, the sparks fading into a shimmering blue cube with pink, orange, and purple swirling around her hand. She curled her hand into a fist and then released it, and to Jason’s amazement, she disappeared from sight.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “That’s awesome.”

Her giggle sounded beside him and she waved a hand that he had to squint to see. “Invisibility works on those who aren’t trained to spot changes in the environment. I’m invisible, but you can see me if you look close enough.” Snapping her fingers, she appeared instantaneously, and he blinked.

“Wow…that’s an impressive ability.”

“Thank you,” she smiled and turned her attention to the mixture that was bubbling over the lamp. “I think this should be done by now.” Taking it off the lamp, she wiggled her fingers and Jason could feel the chill from where he was sitting as she transferred it to her frozen hand, watching the steam rise from the contact.

After a moment, she handed it to him and said, “Drink.”

The natural human reaction was to smell it and that’s what he did, all but recoiling from the horrid scent. She laughed. “It’s not meant to be caramel syrup, Jason. It’s a cure for a disease. Plug your nose and chug.”

Jason scowled at her before squeezing his nostrils shut and lifting the bowl to his lips. He almost vomited when it touched his tongue, but he forced it down his throat and finished with an entire body shudder.

(Y/N) took the bowl back and gently cradled his cheek in her hand. “Let me see,” she urged, and he stared into her glowing ember eyes. Something appeared in her vision, relief, then she smiled and pulled her hand back; he mourned the loss of contact, even if her hand was freezing. “Yes, if you had caught vampirism, you’re cured of it now,” she said.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he expressed, and she stood, giving him a smile.

“You needn’t thank me, Jason. I’m only doing what’s right.” She nodded at the chair in the corner. “I fixed your suit for you, so whenever you’re ready to leave, you may.”

As she headed for the door to give him privacy, he called out, “Can I come back to see you?” She glanced over her shoulder with an arched brow, and he added rather quickly, “To see more magic and hear about your life?”

(Y/N) gave him a smile and nodded. “I think I’d like that, Jason.” She turned back around. “It’s been far too long since I had personal contact with a human. Maybe you can show me how to work a smartphone.”

“You don’t have a smartphone? In this day in age?”

“I have a rotary phone!” she retorted and scowled, “I don’t even have credit cards, Jason.”

“How do you pay for things?” he asked.

“I use cash? I’m rich, Jason. And I mean old, old world rich.”

***Chapter Three***

He hadn’t even taken one step into the cave when he was clobbered to the floor by three brothers in a bear hug. His back hit the cold cave floor and he mentally thanked that she’d healed his wounds because that probably would’ve opened them.

That being said, she hadn’t healed his sour mood because he immediately growled, “Get off me, now.”

His eldest brother looked up at him. “Jason, you’ve been missing since last night!” he cried. “We were worried about you!”

“Well, I’m obviously alive and safe, so get. The. Fuck. Off. Me.” He scowled at his brothers. “All of you.” They climbed off and pulled Jason to his feet, letting him brush off his clothes.

“Where’ve you been all night, Jay?” Tim questioned, taking a moment to pull the leather jacket away from his older brother’s side. “Your suit looks like it took damage…but I see you fixed it.” his head cocked to the side. “It looks like you used a blacksmith forge to do it.”

Jason whacked his hand away, tugging his jacket back in place to cover the fixes she’d made. “Got into a tussle with a couple gangbangers and tore my suit.” He glanced at his father who was making his way over, a frown on his face.

Bruce stood in front of him and held up a communicator. “You missed three calls. The first from Dick, the second from Alfred, and the last from me.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” he grunted. “I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself without having to check in every hour like a pre-teen on his first date.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily, then calmly stated, “I got into a fight, got my suit ripped, and went back to an underground safehouse outside the city where I fixed it and recovered for the night.”

He looked at his family. “I’m sorry I missed the calls but I’m alive and I’m safe. So can we drop it?”

For a moment, Jason thought he was in the clear, then Dick’s eyes narrowed in that stupid way that meant he was going to say something completely ridiculous, but not exactly off the mark.

“Were you with a girl?” Dick teased. “It’s okay, Little-wing, you don’t have to be ashamed of seeing your girlfriend.”

It was a trap and by God ,Jason knew it, but damned if he couldn’t help himself. “For your information, Dickhead, I’m bisexual so I could’ve been seeing a boy, but no, I wasn’t seeing a girl. I was sleeping. Alone.”

“The lady doth protest too much methinks,” Damian smirked, and Jason pointed at him.

“I’m not above kicking your ass just because you’re younger than me,” he threatened and shoved past everyone, moving to the suit racks. “I’m going back to bed.”

“But you haven’t told us about your girlfriend,” Tim called, grinning whenever Jason threw him the finger from behind.

“I already told you, I wasn’t with anyone,” he retorted and stomped up the stairs to the study.

Dick crossed his arms over his chest with a smile and murmured, “B, I think Little-wings’ got himself a woman, don’t you?”

Bruce merely hummed in response. “I’m still concerned about the complete radio silence. He’s never done that before.”

“Oh, come on, who do you think we learned radio silence from, Mister-Robin-Go-Find-Evidence-While-I-Apprehend-Catwoman?” he countered, smirking when Bruce glowered at him. “Everyone wants a bit of privacy every now and then B, and as much as we’d love to tease Little-wing into telling us who he was with, he is entitled to his silence every now and then.”

“True,” Bruce grunted. “But I still don’t like my sons ignoring me when I’m worried.”

Suddenly he was being pulled into a hug by the three boys around him while Dick squeaked, “Aww you do care!”

“Hrn, get off me.”

***

It’d been about two months since Jason came back to (Y/N)’s home, knowing that his brothers were watching him every night to see if he’d go offline again. He’d told them to screw off more times than he could count, but finally they relented, either assured of the fact that he wasn’t going to say anything or that they actually believed he had been alone that night.

Regardless, he found himself standing in front of her home, and now that he thought about it, the place was a lot smaller outside than it was on the inside, like those tents in the Harry Potter movies. Magic. He assumed and reached up, grabbing the brass door knocker that gave him the heebie jeebies more than he wanted to admit.

The ring sat in the mouth of a brass skull that had demonic horns curled around it. He shook his head and tapped the knocker a couple times then pulled away when he heard clacking on the other side of the door.

“Open!” something said.

He turned the antique brass doorknob, pushing open the door with a quiet, “Excuse me.”

Jason paused as he stepped inside. (Y/N) wasn’t anywhere in the living room or kitchen and he frowned, wondering where she was when something tugged at his jacket sleeve.

“Here!”

Glancing down, he saw the raven hopping up and down and he smiled, holding out his wrist, watching it hop to his forearm then up to his shoulder.

“Hey Nevermore. How are you today?”

The bird croaked in return. “Happy.”

“Yeah? Where’s (Y/N) at?”

“Studio!” Nevermore replied and Jason started moving past the coffee table and couch, smiling at the Neapolitan Mastiff and Maine coon lazing.

“Hey Fang, hey Salem.”

Fang didn’t even wake up, but Salem mewled once and shut his eyes again, flopping onto the dog’s wrinkly back.

Jason got to the hallway and paused. “Alright bud, which way?”

Nevermore hopped once. “Right!”

“Right it is,” he agreed and walked down the hallway to the single open door. He knocked quietly on the doorframe and stepped inside, immediately catching sight of (Y/N) at a stool, a paintbrush in her hand as she delicately lined her work.

“Good morning, Jason,” she said. “I was wondering when you were going to come back around.”

He hummed and walked over, watching as Nevermore flew off his arm to perch atop a wooden peg in the corner of the room.

“My family wouldn’t let up about the other night.”

“Ah,” she replied, and though he couldn’t see her face, he could hear her smile. “Yes, the notorious Batfamily. Master detectives, I’ve been led to believe, hmm?”

Jason stood beside her, gazing at her ember eyes that traced the movement of the paintbrush. She must’ve been seeing something he hadn’t because her hands were shifting faster than could follow.

“You know about us?”

“That Bruce Wayne is Batman and that his children are the gangling quartet of Robins? Oh yes, Jason. I’ve known since he took up the mantle.” Her eyes finally found his. “Pull that stool from over there and sit. I’ll be here for some time.”

He did as she said and sat down, propping his elbows on his knees. “Who are you painting this for?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Some billionaire in Hong Kong commissioned a painting of his dog and his brood of pups.”

“You don’t know the guy’s name?” Jason snorted and she shook her head.

“As I said, you’re the first personal human contact I’ve had in decades.” She dabbed the paintbrush in blue and painted the eyes of the sire. “I don’t typically associate with humanity much anymore. It’s easier to let things simply pass by.”

He frowned. “That seems like a lonely existence, (Y/N).”

“Not so much. I’ve had the boys for all this time.”

Jason blinked, then looked at Nevermore. “Wait, how old are your pets?”

“Immortality doesn’t just stop at vampires, Jason. The boys are all of extended lifeforms.” She smiled that pearly white grin and he saw the pointed canines. “Nevermore for example is tied to my life. He won’t die unless I do.”

“What if he gets crushed in a meat grinder?” Jason countered. “I feel like would stop him from coming back.”

“He’d come back missing a few feathers,” (Y/N) snorted when Nevermore squawked in anger. “But trust me, he’d come back, Jason.” She glanced at him. “How’ve you been? Any more problems?” He scowled, making her laugh. “Oh, this I have to hear.”

Jason grunted. “My brothers wouldn’t leave me alone about that night I was radio silent. They kept asking who my girlfriend was.”

“Did you tell them?”

“Tell them what?” he repeated, confused.

“Who your girlfriend was.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

(Y/N) huffed. “Should’ve said you were with someone. That probably would’ve gotten them off your back enough.”

“I thought you said to keep it a secret,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I did. But people are going to believe whatever they want to believe even if you’re sincere about otherwise,” she explained with a knowing tone. “I’d’ve just said I was with someone and couldn’t be bothered to talk because I was ravishing them until they couldn’t walk.”

Jason’s face went hot, and his stomach felt tight as he looked away. “Oh, uh, I…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “I guess that’s how you play ball, huh?”

(Y/N) chuckled lowly, sending shivers down his spine. “I’d almost forgotten how easy humans flustered.” She shot him a polite smile. “Apologies. I’m used to vampiric vulgarities.”

“Vampires are vulgar? Aren’t vampires supposed to be regal and pretentious?”

She cackled. “Oh, they are,” (Y/N) agreed. “When vampires aren’t attending council meetings or higher functions and are in a small group of trusted companions, they’d act so obscenely it’d put sailors to shame.” She sighed wistfully. “Massive orgies, endless feedings and flowing wine. It’s all so…common.”

“Have you attended many of those…parties?” Jason quizzed and she nodded.

“I did back a very, very long time ago, but I haven’t for some time now. It’s not exactly my thing.”

“But it’s a thing for vampires?” he said, brows furrowing.

(Y/N) met his eyes. “Feeding when copulating is supposed to be an intimate thing. Between two, in private, behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, because it’s a binding of blood and bodies. It’s meant to be an exclusive thing not an inclusive one.”

She shook her head. “It’s…hard to explain to someone who isn’t a vampire nor a lover of one.”

“Have you ever done it?”

(Y/N) blinked. “Fed in private?” he nodded, and she tipped her head in agreement. “With other vampires yes, but not humans.”

Jason felt curiosity course through him. “How come? I’d figure if you’re one who enjoys the more private events, why not humans too?”

“Because I stopped consuming human blood before I fell through the portal ten thousand years ago,” she explained. “Even then, the last intimate relationship I ever had with a human was in Scandinavia when the Vikings walked the earth some millennia ago. I haven’t been with another human since he died.”

“Sounds like it’s not a happy subject,” he murmured, and she nodded. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s alright. Mathias didn’t want me to mourn him but to remember him with joy.” (Y/N) rested the brush on her thigh. “Mathias got sick and none of my Restoration magic was healing him nor the rituals his clan were casting. I offered to make him one of my kind. It would’ve saved him, and we would’ve been together, but…” she trailed off and in a moment of compassion, Jason laid his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Thank you,” she whispered, then inhaled deeply. “He worried that Odin wouldn’t accept him into Valhalla when he met his end. At the same time, he didn’t wish for me to break my vow of never consuming human blood again.” Her lips pulled into a sad smile, lamenting, “I held him when he took his last breath, and then I lit the pyre he laid upon.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her stupor. “I then travelled across the lands for many centuries and to the Americas where I’ve been now.” She smiled. “I have had many human friends over the years and each time it gets easier to let go. You learn the pain is only temporary, but their memories are forever.”

Jason couldn’t think of a thing to say so he simply squeezed her shoulder again and pulled away, resting his hands in his lap. After a moment, he commented, “You’re an extraordinarily strong woman, (Y/N). I don’t think I’d be able to live as long as you could.”

“There’s always something new to discover, Jason. Vampirism is merely an extension of life until you die. Perhaps when this land is but ruins, I’ll travel back to Europe and discover something new?” she smiled, and he felt his heart thump against his ribcage. “The possibilities are endless.”

Before he could say anything, a low growl sounded from the doorway and Jason looked over his shoulder and hissed, “Oh shit.”

(Y/N) snorted and spun on her stool, holding out her hands to the wolfdog in the doorway. “White-Fang! I see you’ve come out of the study for once.”

The hybrid bounded over with heavy footfalls and Jason almost shit himself when it got up close. Because it was bigger than he’d imagined. Bigger, and dark furred, with bright white eyes.

She drew her hand up his hackles. “How’s my big, scary boy doing?” he growled in response, low and gravely, practically glaring at Jason.

“Is he going to eat me?” Jason whispered with mild-fear and he swore that wolfdog laughed at him.

(Y/N) huffed. “No, he’s not going to eat you.” She patted White-Fang’s head. “He’s just teasing.”

“I think he wants to eat me,” Jason retorted when she grabbed his hand and he whimpered as she neared the hybrid’s head. “My hand especially.”

She leveled White-Fang with a glare. “Heel.” The wolfdog immediately sat down and waited, watching carefully as Jason’s hand neared his head, and when it touched, he held for a second then groaned and moved around until Jason’s hand was at his ear.

“He wants you to scratch his ears, Jason,” she murmured, and he did, grinning like an idiot as the hybrids leg started thumping on the ground. “See, he’s not so scary.”

“I bet he is to anyone that tries to hurt you,” he remarked with a smirk and she smiled.

“Oh, he’s ripped a few throats out, certainly.” (Y/N) patted White-Fang’s side. “Alright boy, wanna go outside?”

He was pulling away from Jason’s hand in an instant, twirling in a circle at the door whilst growling for her to hurry.

“Well, go find your harness and you can leave.”

He disappeared and Jason questioned, “Harness?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I make Nevermore go with him so he can keep an eye out for trouble.” She huffed. “Animal control is one thing I don’t need on my plate.”

White-Fang came back with a harness in his mouth and bounded to (Y/N), letting her adjust it. After she was finished, Nevermore cawed, and perched himself atop a little wooden handle on White-Fang’s back, starting to preen himself as the hybrid hurried to the front door.

“Can he open that him—” the front door slammed, and Jason blinked. “I guess that answers that question.”

She giggled and stood to her feet, stretching her arms over her head before asking, “Want something to eat?”

Jason smiled. “Yeah, I could eat.”

***Chapter Four***

It was a constant weekly visit to her home, but Jason almost found himself returning every other day. At first, he thought it was some vampiric seduction she’d put over him, but with every laugh that escaped her lips from the stupid jokes he’d stolen from his older brother, he realized it wasn’t supernatural power that kept him coming back—it was love. He was hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. And it only made it harder to see her because he knew with the knowledge of her previous human lover, she wasn’t going to be interested in Jason. But he could hope.

He stowed the black key into his pocket and curled a hand around the doorknob, pushing it open. “(Y/N)!” he called out.

Somewhere in the home, he heard, “In the study!”

God, that was another reason he loved her. She had books galore. First additions of books he’d only ever dreamed of holding, let alone reading. And she’d told him to take whatever he’d wanted.

He couldn’t stop himself from hurrying to the door at the opposite end of the hallway, turning into the study to see her bent over her desk, penning something on letter paper. He smiled at Nevermore who was perched on the bust above her on the wall.

(Y/N) looked up at him and gave a tired smile. She must’ve been about to go to bed from the looks of her wear, a black chemise she was fond of. “Good evening, Jason. How are you doing tonight?”

He put down the takeout bag on one of the loveseats and walked around her desk, leaning back on the edge.

“Well, it looks like I’m doing a lot better than you are,” he remarked, glancing down at her letter. It was full of words he didn’t understand, obviously another language he didn’t recognize, but he caught ‘Vampire’ and ‘Council’ a couple times but there was one word that slightly worried him and that was ‘Lycan’.

She sighed heavily and placed the pen back it its stand and rubbed her temples. “I’ve spent the last eight hours penning letters to and from the council and other confidants in neighboring locations.” (Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose. “There’s a problem in Gotham and I’ve got to understand how it started and fix it before it gets worse.”

Jason eyed her. “Are you talking about the werewolf that’s been running around at night?” he sighed. “I just got off patrol looking for the damned thing.”

“So, you are as well?” she answered lowly, her ember eyes shifting to gaze out the window at the nightly moon reflecting off one of the windows of a skyscraper. “I don’t know how one got into Gotham without my knowledge, but it has.”

She stood suddenly and walked around to her drink stand, pouring a glass of wine; she took a sip. “Now the council is up my ass about Lycan-encroachment on vampiric territory and I still have to contact the nearest werewolf colony to ask if they’ve lost one. I’m sure they’ll tell me to screw off in less nicer ways.”

“Yeah, Bruce isn’t too happy about the thing either,” Jason said, and he could feel his eyes on her as he mumbled, “It’s been killing every night and last night it ripped a family to shreds. Mom and a dad with three kids.”

A glass shattered and he looked over, seeing (Y/N)’s hand clenched tightly, wine glass in shards on the floor, red wine and black blood mixing as it ran down her arm.

“(Y/N),” he exclaimed, moving to her and he saw the crystal tears on her cheeks.

“Fuck,” she hissed harshly. “Nevermore and I have been out every night for the last week, but we can’t find the fucking thing.” Her auburn eyes found his and he saw the wrath within them. “To hell with the werewolf colony and protocol. I’ll rip that moon-born’s spine out with my bare hands.”

Her skin started to turn that pale gray like her second form and Jason gently took her hand, “Calm down, (Y/N).” She gazed at him and before she could say anything, he added, “If my family and I can’t find it, I don’t think you could either.” He gave a tight smile and reached up with his opposite hand, caressing her cheek. “Let’s get your hand cleaned up, yeah?”

She let him guide her to the bathroom where she sat town on the toilet seat, gazing deadly at the wall ahead while he pulled out a black bag, digging around for tweezers. Jason started plucking the glass out of her hand, every so often pausing to check for signs of discomfort in her expression.

When he was finished, he held her hand over the sink and rinsed it before toweling it, and when he pulled the black towel away, her wounds had already resealed themselves. He tossed the towel onto the sink and held her hands, not exactly knowing what to say to her.

“How old were the children?” she questioned calmly, and he sighed.

“Two, ten, and fifteen.”

(Y/N)’s eyes welled with tears again and she dug her black-nailed fingers into her palm, ignoring the pricks of pain. “Goddamn them,” she cursed in a tone frozen as winter. “Damn them to hell. All of their kind.” He watched her quietly as she raged. “Goddamn Lycan colonies allowing their kind to trample all over other kinds’ territories with no regard for the natural or supernatural. This is why I hate werewolves. They’re so inconsiderate and destructive.”

She brought a hand to her eyes, harshly wiping the tears. “Three children taken before their times and no justice to be given.” A sob escaped her. “I’ve allowed myself to become too complacent with your family protecting Gotham that I forgot my duty. Now look what I’ve caus—”

Jason took her hands. “Woah, woah, woah,” he said firmly, digging his thumbs between her fingers and her palms. “(Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“That family though—”

“Didn’t die by your hands,” he replied. “You’ve been trying to stop it. You haven’t been negating your duties. You never had the duty of keeping Gotham safe from crime.”

(Y/N) blinked. “What?”

“Your duty has always been to keep vampires in line here, not to stop crime from happening.” He shook his head. “As far as anyone is concerned, you’ve been doing exactly that. There is no complacence on my family.”

She gazed at him for a long moment, then leaned forward; Jason followed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Your words are kind, Jason, but I fear they’re not negating my emotions.”

One of Jason’s hands rose to hold her cheek. “Let me try another way,” he whispered and tilted her face, delicately pressing his lips to hers.

(Y/N) started to pull back. “Jason, I—”

“Shh,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Let me help you right now.”

“I need,” she started. “I need more, Jason.”

He nodded. “Whatever you want from me, you can have, doll.”

(Y/N)’s breath shuddered, and she was never one to be held like she was glass. She surged forward and curled her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and Jason responded with a noise of shock which she swallowed, as he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her against him.

Suddenly, she pulled back and whatever he was planning on saying died on his lips when she commanded, “Bed. Now.”

Jason couldn’t help the startled laugh as he pulled away, letting himself be shoved backwards out the bathroom door and down the hallway. “Excited, aren’t you?”

She scowled as his back collided with the bedroom door and he lowered a hand trying to open it. “You’ve been walking on eggshells for the last six months, Jason. You want this as much as I do.”

His eyes went wide, and he stopped fumbling for the doorknob. “You—you know?”

(Y/N) pressed up against his body, shoving one of her thighs between his hips and Jason inhaled sharply as she ground herself against him. “Of course, I know,” she purred, tugging the collar of his shirt down. “I can smell your desire every time you come here.”

Jason’s only reply was a groan when she latched onto the skin just above his collarbone, sucking a red welt into it. One of his hands gripped her waist, the other starting back for the doorknob again, but she grabbed it and slammed it beside his head, fingers wrapping around his wrist just shy of painful.

“Blood, you see, Jason, is intoxicating on its own,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his throat, nipping enough that it had his hips canting forward, trying to rub against her thigh. “But the pheromones of desire?” (Y/N) whispered in his ear. “Are even more so,”

And he was helplessly pinned between her and the oak door, as she lowered her free hand and swiftly undid his belt buckle and popped the button of his jeans before she tugged his zipper down just enough to give it slack.

She slid her hand down into the front of pants and cupped him, smirking when he gasped and rolled his hips into her palm. “Divines, I could smell it crawling all over you,” she said. “I could smell those times you’d come over after relieving yourself of the ache.”

“(Y/N),” Jason moaned, and she squeezed him again, eliciting an even deeper moan from his throat.

“Tell me, Jason. How many times?” she asked, and he couldn’t find the words to answer her, starting to pant. “How many since we met have you taken your cock in your hand and pleasured yourself?”

“I—fuck—too many to count,” he gasped and gazed down at her; she was giving him that perfect little smile that made him twitch in her grasp.

(Y/N) shifted her hand and slid it inside his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length and Jason’s knees almost went out beneath him right there when she started pumping him. “What do you think about when you do?” she smirked. “I know it’s obviously me.” Her ember eyes bored into his as she squeezed him. “Is it my mouth? Or my hand?”

He swallowed thickly, breath hitching as he confessed, “Y-you’re on your back and you’re—”

“I’m already bored, Jason,” (Y/N) cooed. “Missionary is boring.”

A chuckle actually made it from him at that and he whispered, “You didn’t let me finish.”

She laughed, countering, “Good thing I’m going to let you.” He groaned as she swiped her thumb over his tip, pressing down. “Come on, Jason. Give me something I can work with. Give me the most lust-filled scenario you’ve thought about.”

To accentuate her point, she tugged his length roughly and he growled, “I’m fucking you into the bed senseless while your ankles and wrists are bound and you’re screaming yourself hoarse.”

(Y/N)’s lips split with delight and he saw those points again as she pricked her tongue on one and all he wanted to do was suck the black blood pooling on the tip of it. “Am I on my stomach?”

“Yes,” he hissed. “Your ass is up in the air and your—shit—your ankles are tied to your bed posts.”

“Ooo, I’m spread open for you, huh? Afraid I’ll be a bad girl and move before you can tell me too? Or are you afraid I’ll take control and ride you?” she taunted.

Jason’s eyes darkened and he glared down at her. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

(Y/N) grinned evilly and quipped, “Not right now you’re not.” She started pumping him faster and he sucked in a breath as his thighs started to quiver, stomach muscles clenching in anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he warned with a deep grunt, and she placed her thumb underneath his head, massaging there.

“I can smell it, darling,” she whispered, “how close you are.” She pressed her lips to his pulse point, mouthing the skin, flicking her tongue to taste the salt of his sweat. “I want to feel you come apart. Do it, Jason. For me, please, darling.”

“(Y/N) I—I’m gonna—” he choked out and she pressed herself onto his clothed thigh, rubbing and moaning and he could feel how damp she was. It sent him spiraling. “Doll, I’m—fuck I’m—” Jason threw his head back and canted his hips forward, seeing stars as he pulsed in her hand, jaw going slack as he let out a guttural groan. She twisted her wrist and pumped him through it until he was grabbing at her wrist, an overstimulated and shaking mess.

She leaned away from his neck and pulled her hand from his boxers, lifting her fingers to her lips. He watched as her tongue darted out and tasted him and he felt the desire pool low in his gut again as she moaned, swirling her tongue between two of her fingers, collecting the sticky white lines leftover.

Jason grabbed her wrist and yanked her to him, pulling her into a searing kiss, groaning at the taste of himself on her tongue. She was strong, but he wrenched his wrist out of her iron tight grip and grabbed the doorknob, shoving the door open. He swallowed her laugh, and she tipped her head back so he had better access.

They stumbled to the bed and his calves hit the edge. Her hands were already pushing his pants down to his knees to the floor and he leaned away from her, pulling his shirt over his head. He smirked when her eyes flared with need and she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. Jason went down easy, and she was crawling over his body, lowering herself to grind on him.

He bit back a groan as he felt himself hardening and slipped his fingers under her thigh length chemise, feeling up her stomach and to her breasts. (Y/N) gasped when his thumbs swiped over her nipples and she arched her back into his touch.

“Like that?” he smirked, and she matched his grin.

“I’d like it a lot better if you pinched ‘em.” He chuckled and did exactly that, moaning when she ground herself harder onto him, her head tipping back slightly.

Jason pulled his hands away and she whined until he grabbed the chemise and lifted above her head and off her body. His eyes widened when he realized she was completely nude underneath and she giggled when he twitched beneath her.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the great dick is surprised. Both figuratively andliterally.” (Y/N) placed a hand on his broadly defined chest and bent her knees beside his hips, resting the tops of her feet on his thighs.

He grunted and griped her hips as she raised herself up. “Something tells me you were planning this all night.”

She smiled sweetly and grabbed him, using his head to spread herself. “Did you want me to wait for dinner first?”

Jason’s laugh dissolved quickly as he groaned, “God, you’re so wet, doll.” He could feel her dripping down his length and he fought to keep himself under control and not thrust up into her heat.

“I can’t help it, darling. You do it to me.” She sunk down on him slowly, letting out a moan that hitched when he bottomed out inside her.

(Y/N) took a moment to breathe, letting herself adjust to his size; he was certainly bigger than most and she knew he was thinking it by that smart grin on his lips, though she could tell by the way his chest was heaving that he was straining.

“Tell me, Jason, was this ever a fantasy of yours?” she asked, pulling at his hands until he ran them up her legs, massaging the flesh of her thighs.

“Absolutely,” he panted, and she purred when he pressed his thumb between her legs and rubbed lightly.

“Please tell me you were handcuffed to this bed, darling,” she begged and using her leverage she raised herself off him all the way then sunk back down, grinding her hips against his. “Tell me I was watching you writhe underneath me while I bounced up and down on you.” She moaned. “Oh, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve come all over my fingers thinking about riding your cock.”

Jason’s back arched slightly, and he couldn’t help but dig his head into the pillow beneath him. “Fuck, your mouth is so dirty, (Y/N).”

She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest. “Tell me something I don’t know,” she countered, then shifted, taking one of his rosy buds in her mouth.

“You’re really tigh—fuckin’ hell,” he cursed when she tugged lightly with her teeth.

(Y/N) laved it over with her tongue and was heading for the second one when he grabbed her chin and yanked her head up, hissing, “Ride me like you mean it or I swear to God, I’ll flip us and fuck you until you’re boneless in this bed.”

“Promises, promises, darling,” she cooed and put both hands on his chest to push herself up. And that was all she said before setting a vicious pace, bouncing up and down, and all Jason could do pinned underneath her was grab her hip and thrust up when she came down.

When he tried to sit up to hold her, she placed one hand in the center of his chest. “Not right now, darling. Later tonight.”

He groaned. “We’re still gonna be busy tonight?”

(Y/N) winked. “All until the early morning hours,” she panted and with her free hand, reached between her legs. She hissed at the added pleasure and then Jason knocked her hand away, replacing it with his fingers and soon she was clenching tighter and tighter around him as he sped up.

“Jason,” she whimpered, the coil in her gut moments away from snapping and he nodded, massaging the flesh of her hip with his free hand.

“I know, doll,” he replied heatedly, swirling his thumb tighter and faster. “Let go. Let me feel you around me.” Jason bypassed her hand this time and sat up, pulling her against his body and he grabbed her chin, growling, “Come for me, (Y/N). Do it. I wanna see you come all over my cock.”

(Y/N) stilled in his lap with a gasp as she shuddered against him, insides fluttering as the ache between her legs pulsed. Jason’s thrusting turned frantic and sloppy and soon he was falling over the edge too, grip like steel on her body as he spilled himself deep inside her with a low groan. He collapsed back onto the mattress, pulling her with him and they lay there, panting and sweating, but satiated and content.

Jason’s fingers skimmed up and down her spine and she nestled against his chest, her long fingernails delicately tracing the scars over his skin.

For a moment, all was calm and quiet, then in the quietest, most painfilled tone she’d ever heard him use, he whispered, “I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

She didn’t want to move herself from his warmth, though she tipped her head up, propping her chin on his chest. “What for?”

He couldn’t look at her. “I—I didn’t want to do this.”

“What?” she breathed and immediately she was pulling away from him, ignoring the separation of their bodies. “If you didn’t want to do this then why would you—”

Jason held her close and lamented, “Mathias. I…I didn’t want to make you think of him.”

(Y/N) gaped at the man beneath her, then she calmed and rested a hand on his cheek, explaining, “Jason, Mathias died thousands of years ago.” She smiled, though he could see the sadness, even as minute as it was. “I lost him, yes, and I mourned him for many decades. But I moved on.” Her thumb swiped over his skin. “You needn’t worry of my affections for Mathias coming in between this. I loved him. Past tense.”

Her eyes flashed with sincerity. “But right now? I love you. Present tense.”

Jason blinked in shock. “You…you love me?” he shook his head when she nodded. “I just thought that you’d want…well you know…”

She laughed. “That I’d just want sex?”

“Yeah…”

“I trust me, I do want that. But,” she began and leaned up, brushing her nose against his. “I want your heart, Jason.”

“Please mean that figuratively and not literally,” he joked, and she rolled her eyes.

“I forgot how much humans could act like asses when they wanted too.”

He let out a ‘hmpf’ and tipped his head up. “You like my ass, thank you very much. It’s perfect and round and perky.”

“I do. And it is. But I think I’ll like it more when I’ve got you shoved face first into the bed and it’s all pretty in the air for me,” she smirked and his eyes went wide, jaw dropping.

“Are you talking about…”

(Y/N) grinned wickedly. “Oh yes, darling. Yes, I am. I’ve got one in the drawer down there if you want to go ahead and start the process.”

Jason swallowed thickly and chuckled nervously, “Maybe we can save that for a later day?”

Giggling, she nodded. “Whenever you’re ready, Jason.”

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed, cracking a smile when she snorted. He looked at her and cupped her cheek. “I love you, (Y/N).”

She smiled wholeheartedly and he felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I know. And I you.”

***Chapter Five***

Jason learned to not hope for things to stay the way they were in his life. He lived each day knowing it could be his last, a stray bullet or a well-placed knife between two ribs, he didn’t hope to stay alive—he wanted to, but he didn’t hope for it. But when it came to the fifth month of dating her, he hoped things would never change.

It was odd at first, staying over at her home every other night. Mainly because he learned early on that (Y/N)’s vampirism meant she hardly ever needed sleep. An hour, maybe two at the most, and then she was ready to go. Of course, when he’d brought it up, she did mention that the older she got, the less sleep she needed. Something about being as powerful as she was. Apparently, new blooded vampires slept for months on end, whereas the older ones barely slept at all.

He also noticed that with her not-sleeping, she also watched him a lot. It did send shivers up his spine, but not in the bad way. The only reason he knew she did was because he was asleep at one point and being trained to know when there were eyes on him, the hair at the back of his neck kept standing up and when he rolled over and opened his eyes, she offered him a sheepish grin and an apology for staring at him. “You’re really handsome and content when you sleep, darling.” She’d said. “It makes for a perfect inspiration to paint.” Jason learned to relax after that.

But soon, every other night carrying a duffel bag to her place became spending every night and filling a chest of drawers with his pants and undergarments, and the closet with his shirts and jackets. She’d even let him use an armor stand in her basement—she had a basement with weapons and armor and a blacksmithing station that made him squeal like a child when he first saw it—to place one of his extra suits. If it had been anyone else, Jason would’ve said things were moving way too fast, but something about (Y/N) told him that there wasn’t going to be anyone after her—while he wouldn’t be her last love, she was the last he’d ever have.

***

Arms encircled his waist and he hummed as she propped her chin on his bicep, watching as he prepared the vegetables. “What are you making?” she murmured, pressing a kiss just below where his T-shirt sleeve stopped.

He noticed that about (Y/N) too. She was very affectionate, always pressing kisses to where she could reach, or resting her hand or leg on him. He’d never been big on contact since coming back, but there was something so comforting about the chill of her lips and fingertips when she did.

Jason sliced into a carrot. “Beef stir-fry.” He grabbed a long green bean from one of the bowls just off the cutting board and raised it to his arm, smiling when she took it from him.

“Mmm, I’m glad I don’t have to do all the cooking for once,” (Y/N) quipped, as she licked her lips.

“Oh, is that all you’re keeping me around for then? To be your personal chef?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jason.” Her eyes twinkled and she pressed herself up against his back, her hands sliding down to his haunches where she squeezed lightly. “I keep you around as a personal bed warmer too.”

He barked a laugh and glanced over at her. “I should’ve seen that coming.” (Y/N) puckered her lips and Jason chuckled. “I did see that one coming though,” he remarked as he pressed his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss when she giggled.

She pulled away from him and walked to his other side, leaning down on the counter. “Do you want any help?”

“Nah,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve got it.” Jason turned his eyes onto her. “Did you get any response from the Lycan colony in Virginia?” (Y/N)’s eyes momentarily darkened, and he sighed. “Guess not.”

“They won’t talk to me through unofficial channels,” she answered. “If I actually want to learn what’s been happening, I’ll have to ask the council to call a meeting with the Lycan Alliance.” She rolled her eyes. “Going through the procedure is just bureaucratic bullshit but it’s what’s kept our kinds from all-out war for thousands of years.”

Jason glanced at her. “There some type of truce made like in the movies?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Back when I still worked on the council I—”

“Wait,” he interrupted, disbelief crossing his face. “You sat on the Vampiric Council? But I thought you hated it?”

“Oh no, I don’t hate the council. I loathe it. Entirely,” she corrected. “But I was the one who put forth most of the effort to get the truce into place.”

“Really now?” he wondered, eyes wide with impression. “How’d that come about?”

“Tensions between our species reached a boiling point and we were headed for full annihilation of our species if we couldn’t find peace somehow,” (Y/N) remembered. “I called on the leaders of the Lycan forces and asked for a parlay to negotiate a truce.”

“Did it work out well?” Jason asked. “Can’t imagine werewolves and vampires sitting peacefully in a room together. Sounds like a recipe for complete disaster.”

“In any other case, I’d agree, but you’d be surprised how calm people can get when peace is on the table,” she remarked. “I was the strongest on the council and my word carried the most authority, so myself and my most trusted confidants met with the most authoritative Lycan leaders for an entire month and on the night of the final day, we reached an agreement.”

“You weren’t worried you’d be outvoted by anyone?”

(Y/N) grinned, showing her pointed canines. “Oh no, darling. Me and the others made enough to outvote their opposition. But I digress, the agreement stated that all forces were to cease fighting when the sun rose on the first day of the new month and return to their respective colony or coven immediately. Our leaders would designate territories for both species and the other wasn’t allowed to enter unless given express consent.”

Her ember eyes followed the knife he wielded. “If a vampire killed a werewolf, the offended party was given custody of the perpetrator to do with as they wished and vice versa. Any crime against another was to be investigated and handled by elite members of the species, and punishment only carried out when acknowledged and allowed by the Council or Alliance.”

She sighed. “It took an entire month to draw out the truce and even longer to enforce it to the point that we could all take a breath and not dread war. But it worked, and we’ve had relative peace for a few millennia.”

Jason scraped the chopped carrots into a bowl. “How are your territories designated?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Fairly easily actually. Werewolves prefer warmer climates and vampires prefer cooler ones, so southern states and countries were typically handed over to the Lycan Alliance while the Vampiric Council took control of the north.”

He snorted. “So, what, the closer I get to the equator, the more werewolves I’ll find?”

“Pretty much.” She smiled. “Most northern and eastern states here in the U.S. are vampire-controlled territory. The south and Midwest are typically werewolf territory.” (Y/N) tipped her head side to side. “That being said, there are some cases in which Lycan colonies will reside in vampire control and the other way around too.”

“What cases are those?” he questioned, quickly chopping some tomatoes.

“On average, most native tribes are werewolf packs, though there are some tribes that are vampiric. The Mohawk tribe has been known to have a few of my kind here and there.” She reached over and plucked a cherry tomato from another bowl. “Since some native tribes still reside on their original lands, we share the territory with them.”

“Oh, so like in Twilight?”

“Yes, but also no, and please don’t ever mention that abomination again,” she scowled, and he chuckled.

“Yes ma’am.” Jason smiled, then seeming to think about something, his hands stilled.

(Y/N) caught it instantly. “Is something wrong?”

“Can I ask you something personal?” he questioned, gazing at her seriously and she nodded.

“Of course. Ask me anything.”

He inhaled deeply. “How’d you become a vampire? And why?”

She blinked, evidently not expecting that one, but she recovered and pulled his arm, tugging him away from the counter. They wandered into the living room and Jason collapsed onto one end of the loveseat, (Y/N) at the other. Resting her feet in his lap, she smiled when he started massaging them.

“This was back when I was still in my dimension and human, but vampires had become bolder and started attacking cities. They were looking for something, but no one knew what it was. All we knew was that there were attacks night after night and no sign of it ending.”

Her head tipped back onto the arm. “I was approached by a vampire hunter who wanted me to join the Dawnguard, an order of vampire hunters who were looking into the growing threat. I agreed and met up at the fort where the leader, a man named Isran, told me to go to a location called Dimhollow Crypt and investigate why the vampires seemed particularly interested in the tomb.”

Jason dug his thumbs into the bottoms of her feet. “What did you find?”

“A bunch of dead Vigilants of Stendarr and a whole lotta vampires,” she deadpanned, and his brows furrowed.

“What’re Vigilants of Stendarr?”

“Holy hunters of the Divine God Stendarr,” (Y/N) answered. “They root out evil and daedra where they find it.” She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “A bunch of pretentious assholes if you ask me.”

Shaking her head, she continued, “So I snuck through the crypt and eventually found this…pillar with a bunch of unlit braziers around it. My dumbass put my hand on the pillar and got impaled by a spike, but my blood broke whatever magic seal and lit the braziers.” She took a breath. “After I got slid them in order, the floor moved, and an ancient sarcophagus was revealed.”

“And you found a mummy?” he quizzed with a grin.

“Actually, I found a vampire,” (Y/N) retorted with a smirk. “And Divines know how long Serana had been down there, but I helped her out of the crypt and back to her home off the coast of one of the capital. There, I met her father, the leader of the coven, Lord Harkon. He wanted to repay me for returning Serana, so he offered his blood—the chance to become a Vampire Lord like him.”

Jason rubbed her ankles. “What made you accept?”

She glanced at him. “He did show me the form of the Vampire Lord and…I was a greedy, power-hungry young woman then,” she admitted somewhat shamefully. “The thought of being able to bend humans into submission by swaying minds and having all that power… spoke to something dark inside me.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat. “I accepted, though it didn’t take long for my heart to change. I got less concerned with power and more concerned with security and ensuring our kind in the castle were safe.”

His hands stopped moving and she looked at him. “What is it?”

“You said you were greedy and power-hungry, but the woman before me hates any form of control, especially the Council.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “If you were as cruel and dark as you said, what changed you mind?” He seemed to remember something. “Did it have to do with your refusal to consume human blood?”

She bared her teeth in a growl, though it was more herself than him. “Divines, I forgot how fast you pick things apart.” (Y/N) sighed heavily and looked away. “…Harkon used to have humans in a dungeon beneath the castle. He called them…cattle. At first, I didn’t mind, but the thing about feeding is that you receive human emotions and memories.”

Her eyes got a faraway look. “It got to the point where I couldn’t bear feeding on them because all I could feel was their despair and agony.” She could feel his hands squeezing her heels. “I went to see an old friend and relayed my problems and he reminded me of something he’d told me a few years before…”

“What did he say?” Jason murmured and (Y/N) turned her attention back to him.

“He said, ‘I once told you when you came to question my death, What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?’ I feel as though now it is your time to look inside and choose.” she paused. “I swore an oath there that I would never again consume the blood of a human. I would overcome my desires and nature and I would do it every day as long as I breathed.”

(Y/N) stared at him. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of what he told me. I repeat the mantra every day. I live by it.”

Jason merely gazed at her for a moment, then he offered her a small smile. “You’re a strong woman, doll. Stronger than anyone I know.”

She huffed a laugh. “Thank you, Jason, though my strength is nothing compared to some of those heroes on the news.”

He chuckled and shifted her legs apart as he moved up her body. Jason rested comfortably atop her and she threaded on of her hands in his silky hair, scratching her long nails against his scalp.

“Nah, you’re the strongest of them all,” he said, pecking her forehead.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Jason replied, leaning down to kiss her lips, and a shrill ringtone made them both jump. He gave a flustered laugh and reached down his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. “Sorry, thought I had it on silent.”

She giggled. “It’s quite alright, Jason.”

He grinned at her and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

Even if she weren’t next to the phone, she could still hear the conversation, her hearing was exceptional even amongst her species.

Jason! Finally! I’ve been calling you like all day!

Jason rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I wasn’t answering.”

“Who is it?” she mouthed.

“Dick,” he replied.

What was that?

“Nothing, I was just—”

OH MY GOD! ARE YOU WITH SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?

“No, Dickhead, I’m not.”

IT’S THE GIRLFRIEND, ISN’T IT, LITTLE-WING!

“Little-wing?” (Y/N) snorted and Jason pinched her hip.

“What do you want, Dick?”

Well, now that I know you’re with your girlfriend, can I talk to her?

“No,” Jason scowled, and she held out her hand with that look and he sighed. “Fine, here she is.”

(Y/N) smiled as she heard Dick squeal on the other end. “Hello? Dick?”

Yes! Hi! That’s me! Little-wing’s older brother!

“I know you are,” she replied. “I’m (Y/N), Jason’s girlfriend.”

See, we knew he had one. He’s always rushing around the manor like he’s late for dinner.

She smirked and cocked a brow, looking straight at Jason. “Oh, he is, is he?”

“What’s he saying?” Jason asked and she quickly brought one of her legs up and pushed against his chest, shoving him back to the other side so he couldn’t grab the phone.

“Tell me, does he ever talk about me?”

Oh, never. See he’s super tight lipped.

“Jason doesn’t talk about me?” (Y/N) pouted. “Jay, darling, I’m hurt.”

He tried shoving her leg out of the way, but she didn’t budge. “(Y/N), gimme the phone.”

I know the best way to remedy that, (Y/N)! You should come over to the manor tonight for dinner and we can absolutely humiliate him for you!

Her lips split evilly. “Tonight, for dinner? And here Jason was making some of his famous beef stir fry for me.” She shrugged. “Oh well, I guess there’s always tomorrow.”

So, you’ll come?

“We’ll be there,” she quipped, winking at a scowling Jason.

Oh my god! GUYS, JASON HAS A GIRLFRIEND AND SHE’S COMING OVER TONIGHT! OH, CRAP ALFRED, WE’RE HAVING A DIN—

Jason yanked the phone from her and hit end call, then leveled her with the darkest glare she’d seen him give—and she loved every second of it, smirking right back. “Why would you do that?” he questioned lowly, and she raised her foot, toeing the collar of his shirt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling,” she replied innocently.

Jason grunted low in his throat and grabbed her foot, sliding his hand up her leg. He got to her upper thigh and curled his hand underneath her, bending her knee up to lay across the back of the couch. Her other leg, practically on its own accord, shifted outwards, allowing him space to lay between her hips and (Y/N) couldn’t help but inhale sharply when he peered up at her, teal eyes narrowed and searching for something in her expression.

“Now we have to go suffer through dinner with my family, (Y/N),” he murmured, pressing his lips to the inside of her thigh where her shorts had ridden up.

“It’s only for a few hours,” she huffed, ignoring the urge to thread her fingers in his hair and tug him closer where she wanted him. Jason groaned against her thigh and she shivered as the vibrations sparked deep beneath her skin. She whined lowly and he shifted to her other thigh, sinking his teeth into the sensitive flesh. (Y/N) cursed as he sucked a bruise into her skin, laving the sting with his tongue before dragging it closer to her center.

“Jason,” she gasped, feeling his fingers starting to slide under her shorts, and then he was pulling away, from her body and from the loveseat to stand before her. (Y/N) didn’t know what to do as she stared up at the rather smug looking Jason, one leg cocked up over the couch, the other haphazardly resting on the floor.

“Knowing Alfred, he’ll want us there by six, so we should get ready to go,” he stated before sauntering off towards the bathroom.

She lay there for a moment, heart beating wildly in her chest, then the annoyance flashed across her face and she shouted angrily, but more flustered than anything, “You are such a teasing bastard!” All she heard was a bark of laughter.

[shidouryusm]

Trouble

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Genre: Fluff

Warning: None

A/N: Happy Birthday to my first love from Haikyuu. This man has got me whipped from the first glance. Hope you enjoy the work.

Okay update, special thanks to @sinnix for helping me with dialogues. Bitch is smartass when it comes to sarcastic conversations.

Spending a birthday alone was something Kuroo never did until today. It wasn’t because he didn’t have anyone to spend with nor it was because of excessive tests and assignments (the excuse that he put up to not have a party this year), but rather he grew to love the occasional pockets of silence where he can contemplate his future and his thoughts. He loved the alone time in coffee shop with a plate of croissants or cakes with coffee.

He chuckles thinking what Kenma would think now if he told him the fact that he is spending his day all alone with himself. Deep in thought, he took a sip of coffee, only to revert back to reality as he realized that there is a heck ton of chocolate flavor in his drink. His face scrunches up and as he is about to call out the waiter, a brisk voice just opposite to him speaks up,

“Umm…Excuse me? I had ordered mocha with extra chocolate syrup and cream on side, but I think my order got messed up. Would you please check?” The voice intriguing Kuroo and he turned around to get a better look at you.

Frustration bubbled up in your inside at how things are going all south today. You let out a sigh and look over to your side only to see the pair of hazel cat-like eyes crinkling with a smile towards you. You scowl a little as he maintains a steady eye contact but soon you divulge back into your piles of work, breaking eye contact. Despite how you feel irritated by that, your heart doesn’t fail to skip few beats at the fleeting moment of locked eyes.

Minutes later, the waiter comes over with an apologetic expression as he informs you that he accidentally swapped your order with the one at your left. You once again lock eyes with the same pair of hazel eyes…and now he is smiling all toothily at you. He is now fully turned around in his chair, facing your figure. Your heart fluttered inside of your ribcage again, this time a little bit aggressively. You try to roll your eyes at him to brush off your own dilemma inside of you when the waiter’s hastened voice brought you back. “I can make you a new order ma’am and sir. You have to wait for 25 minutes and we will only charge for the original orders only.” Kuroo shakes his head to which you arch an eyebrow at him.

“It’s okay. It’s a busy day today, we understand. Never mind, we will figure it out. No need to make entirely new drinks” He brushes his hand in the air, dismissing the waiter and bringing his full attention on you. This is when you see him fully as you take in his features.

His raven colored hair, sticking out in the oddest places, but it rather enhances his facial structures even more, his narrow cat-like eyes which, more to your dismay, feels more likeable to you. He is tall, well-built and he carries a confident stance. Overall, he looks really attractive and handsome.

You don’t realize when he actually moved from his seat and offered himself to sit opposite to your chair, in your table. Not that you are minding it at all, but you don’t miss out to raise eyebrows at his antic and eye him questionably.

“Did I say you could sit here?”

“Too entranced, are we?” he obnoxiously laughed. God his laugh!! He takes a seat and puts his hand on the table to lean down a bit as he bores his eyes into yours,

“I had asked whether I could sit here to swap our orders to fix this but seems like you are too busy figuring something else out.” Kuroo smirks as you now roll your eyes at him. “You really wish that, huh? For your kind information, I was zoned out a bit before you decided to ring the creep check.” He laughs quietly at this and you also can’t help but put up a grin in your face.

“Okay, point cleared but will this excess chocolate and sugar help you throughout your work? Isn’t that supposed to make you feel sleepier?” He scrunches his face at you drink to which your huff indignantly. “Excuse you, sir. You just did not bash my drink right now.” He narrowed down his eyes at you

“Well, seems like I did.” You look at him with a competitive look as he reflects back the same look. “At least it is not bland like the regular black coffee. That is highly basic you know.” You sardonically curl your lips while you say that.

Conversations with Kuroo felt effortless. His natural eloquence resonated with your snarky remarks and made the entire conversation seem like an unsaid date. What felt like a small exchange between strangers unfolded into something more. Your all-out confidence and personality had drawn Kuroo from the very beginning. The way you seem intrigued in the conversation and kept up with it along with your little anecdotes caused Kuroo’s heart to beat a little to faster than usual. Your tinkering laughter and sardonic expressions made Kuroo want more. It felt like the perfect coffee flavor, the one you barely can get enough of.

Minutes stretched into hours and you realize that you haven’t really progressed on your assignment much after you went into a conversation with this tall, lanky and smart and extremely attractive guy.

As you guys prepared to leave the café, he sheepishly added the fact that today was his birthday. Only when you were wishing him, an idea seemed to pop in your mind.

“Hey…what am I supposed to do with this paper?” Kuroo asks you as you shoved a little scrap of paper. “Your loss Kuroo-San, if you feel like throwing it away, I was trying to give you a present.” you shrugged as he smirks, as if getting the hint on what might be inside of the small bit of parchment.

“A number without a name…Hmmm interesting.” He hums.

“So would you like a name without the number, sir?” His eyes darken at this and you feel your heart almost collapse from the top of the stairs. “I may or may not like this nickname a bit too much, pretty one.” Warmth pooled in your insides at this little nickname he just said. “Uncalled for but seems like I know what to call you more often.”

Kuroo lets out his youthful laughter as you guys now step out of the café. The brisk air of the evening filling your nostrils and city lights illuminated both of your faces.

“Don’t you think a birthday present should be more than that, pretty one?”

“Do not chew more than you can bite, Kuroo-San. Surely a smart student like you would know that. Plus you did made me procrastinate my assignments even more so consider that a punishment.”

“Ahhh, pretty one. We are into punishments, are we?” You feel your cheeks heat up at this blatantly implied undertone and you look away from him. Kuroo moves an inch closer as he slightly hovers over you. He hooks his finger under your chin hesitantly, as you look up at him,

“You gotta learn how to take things slowly, Kuroo-San.” Your voice no higher than an air of whisper.

“We can work it around the calendar together for that, pretty one. Also you might want to get a smart tutor like me to assist you rather than that extra sweetened chocolate.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, which never seemed to leave. Kuroo Tetsuro feels like a trouble but a trouble that will undoubtedly be worth it.

“Well, well, we should, Mr. Tutor. So, next week, same time, same place?”

“Sounds like a plan, miss.”

Thanks for reading XOXO

Reblogs are highly appreciated

[psychdelia]

christmas used to be billy’s favorite holiday. he loved setting up the tree every year with his mom, matching big smiles on their faces as she carried him to set the star on top. he would help her cook and bake, dance around the kitchen with her. she always surprised him with more gifts than he anticipated, and he would give her a card with messy handwriting and glitter and a drawing of the two of them with i love you mommy scribbled on the bottom.

and then she left and christmas joy was replaced with pain. his father screaming and presenting him with fists instead of gifts. and then max and susan came along and she was their little angel. spoiled with gifts and love while he received nothing but hurt.

billy hates christmas now. hates the holidays in general, but christmas the most. spends all day sulking, curled up in bed and crying. neil gets on him about it, maybe smacks him around before leaving him even worse than how he started. he lost all hope that maybe she’ll come back as a christmas miracle, scoop him up and take him away from all the hurt.

his plan for the day was to stay in bed. avoid the world. but then neil came barging in, demanding billy get off his ass and take max to the byers’ for a christmas party. he was stupid to think that he could catch a break after being forced to ‘celebrate’ with them yesterday, which essentially meant being forced to help susan in the kitchen and watch max get showered in love and gifts while he received nothing.

so he got up. threw on a dark green sweater, tight jeans and boots, still not nearly warm enough for hawkins winter. he silently drove max to the house, only looking at her when she didn’t get out after a minute of being parked.

“what.” billy spoke flatly, his first word of the day.

“come and hang out with us.” max rushed out, nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

billy just sighed.

“i’m not really in the mood to hang out with a bunch of snotty little shits, so,” he shrugged. “maybe next year.”

“it’s not just us! nancy and jonathan are there. and mrs. byers and chief hopper! and,” a pause. “robin and steve.” she added on quietly.

“max i don’t really think-“ he was interrupted by a knock on his window. he turned to find a very happy and smiling mrs. byers eagerly waving at them.

“come inside!” she urged as billy rolled his window down.

billy just looked at max and gestured towards the house, ignoring her dramatic defeated groan before she got out.

“you too!” joyce grabbed billy’s shoulder, smile faltering at the way he flinched, her touch unexpected. “max told me you guys already celebrated yesterday. what’s another celebration?”

“i don’t think it’s a good idea mrs. byers.” he replied with a small smile, hoping to charm his way out of this situation.

she sighed. “honey, it’s your second and probably last christmas in hawkins before you go to school back home.” she responded to his shocked expression with a sad smile. “we all figured you’d be applying to schools there. and max might’ve slipped up. don’t be mad at her! she’s just scared to lose you, is all.”

billy frowned and looked down at his hands. he hadn’t even told her he was only applying to schools in california. just trying to graduate and get the hell out of indiana, go back home.

“come on, kiddo. your sister would appreciate it.” a pause. “i’ll spike your eggnog.”

billy sighed, taking a few seconds to contemplate before getting out of the car.

“oh you must be freezing.” joyce rolled her eyes as she tugged at his sweater. “you kids and your fashion. you’re gonna get yourself sick like this. hawkins isn’t california!”

billy snorted. “duh.” he mumbled as she dragged him inside.

billy should’ve expected the stares. the guarded, confused and slightly angry expressions at his presence. he felt small, being glared at by nearly everyone in the room. he wanted to turn around, walk right back out that door. almost did if it weren’t for joyce stopping him in his tracks and holding his arm.

“oh, stop that you brats.” joyce huffed. “it’s christmas. be nice! and if you can’t be nice… no more cookies.” she smirked as they all groaned in protest in unison.

billy didn’t really care about the kids. he apologized to lucas not too long after that night, even agreed to the stupid deal to drive him around town and rev his engine to receive his forgiveness in full. it took him longer to approach steve, though. didn’t have the balls to do it until a couple months before steve graduated. he found him alone in the library, studying to get his gpa high enough to be able to graduate and get his diploma.

“can i sit here?” billy gestured towards the empty chair across from steve, who was glaring at him.

“only if you don’t give me another concussion.”

billy gnawed on his bottom lip as he slid into the seat, staring at the table and avoiding eye contact like a goddamn child.

it took him a minute to finally look up and spit out those two words he’d been meaning to say since that night. but it wasn’t the apologizing he dreaded most, it was the explanation and conversation that followed. he expected steve would ask questions, and shit did he have a lot.

billy kept his answers short, general. didn’t spill too much about all the shit going on in his life and in his head. steve didn’t look satisfied with his answers, but he eventually stopped asking questions. gave billy a stiff nod with a,

“yeah. fine. i accept your apology, i guess. just don’t fuck with me or the kids anymore.”

and that was that. billy kept his distance from them altogether. he occasionally carted lucas and max around for their stupid little dates, teasing them here and there. but it was never malicious.

now he stood right in front of the door in joyce’s house, itching to get out. lucas, max and her friends el and will were the only ones not staring at him apprehensively. the curly haired one was whining, asking why he had to be there, throwing in a few words he was probably too young to be saying. boy wheeler was following suit, making grand gestures and calling him an asshole. nancy looked just as prissy as always, turning her nose up. jonathan avoided eye contact. steve wasn’t quite glaring, but he didn’t look too happy to see him either. just because they were on okay terms didn’t mean they were on great terms. his girl robin didn’t seem too thrilled either.

“i’m just gonna..” billy pointed towards the table filled with drinks and snacks. he walked away as the commotion continued behind him, helping himself to the bowl labeled adult eggnog. he grimaced after the first sip before pouring himself a little more.

it was hard to make himself comfortable. he sat stiff and tense on the edge of the couch, as far away from everyone as he could get. the burn of the rum didn’t do much to heal the hurt in his chest, the pain of abandonment and grief he felt this time every year. he tried to tune everyone out, ignoring the kids yelling as they played video and board games, hopper as he snuck the teenagers more eggnog and beer, joyce as she continued to force feed everyone her christmas appetizers.

he found himself staring at the tree, messily decorated to the brim and a little lopsided. his gaze shifted to the walls, family pictures of just the brothers, then joyce and the brothers, and some including hopper and el. he was unconsciously playing with the chain around his neck, chest getting tighter and tighter. he forced his eyes away from the pictures to find jonathan helping joyce cook and set up dinner in the kitchen, laughing and smiling.

that was his breaking point. he set down his empty cup and sped off to the bathroom, scrubbing at his wet eyes. he shut the door behind him, pacing back and forth, trying to breathe through the lump in his throat. he eventually gave up trying to fight the tears off, a christmas tradition for him at this point. he eventually sat down in and slumped back against the bathtub, closing the curtains and shielding him from the rest of the world. he tuned out the music and chatter from outside, instead hugging his knees to his chest and hiding his face in his hands as he cried.

he knew he shouldn’t have listened to joyce. he shouldn’t have gotten out of his car and stepped foot into this house. he should’ve just gone home and lay in bed all day, much less embarrassing than crying in a goddamn bathtub with people right outside.

but here he was, trying to make up for lost time and bonding and memories with max, to show her that he cares and loves her and isn’t going to abandon her like his mother. and yet he was alone, abandoned and abandoning max in just 5 months. his chest hurt as he cried harder, tears freely slipping down his cheeks and staining his stupid sweater. he was nearly wheezing for air, not getting enough in between his sobs.

he must’ve been too loud because he didn’t hear the door open and shut. didn’t even know he wasn’t alone until steve pulled back the curtain, stunned to find him curled up there and crying.

billy wanted to snarl at him, glare at him with a smartass comment about the bathroom being occupied, but all that came out when he opened his mouth was another choked sob.

“shit, man, you don’t look so good.” steve spoke the obvious. “hargrove, you gotta breathe. don’t want you turning blue on me.”

billy turned away, shielded his face with his arms for god knows what. maybe he was expecting a punch, to be told he was a little bitch for crying like this. but all he received were hesitant hands gently prying his wrists away from his face.

“hey.” steve murmured, now only inches away from him. billy didn’t realize he climbed into the tub with him, kneeling before him in the cramped space.

“fuck off.” billy breathed out, all bark no bite, trying to pull his arms away from steve’s grip. but steve didn’t let up.

“why? so you can suffocate yourself to death in mrs. byers’ bathroom?” steve mused, rubbing circles into billy’s wrists with his thumb. “not gonna happen.”

“i don’t need-“ he choked up, words cracking as more tears unleashed. “i don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“i know.” steve let go of his wrists, sitting back against the opposite end of the small tub. billy almost whimpered at the loss. was so glad he could will himself against at least one thing.

“what about a friend?” steve took in the way billy’s eyes shifted towards him, expression guarded. “look, man, you’re graduating and leaving next summer,” how many people had max told? “and you’re obviously going through some shit so i don’t see why i can’t at least try to help you through this so we,” he sighed as he gestured between them. “so we can be friends and not on bad terms anymore because i’m tired of having enemies.” he rushed out, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “i know what it feels like to want to leave this shithole, trust me. robin already applied to schools in cali too and i was maybe thinking about going with her and if we end up in the same place then maybe we can all be friends and help each other out.” he rushed out again.

billy just stared at him, bottom lip quivering pathetically. here steve was, offering to be his friend and follow both him and robin all the way to california. he’d be stupid if he didn’t take the offer.

“what? you following your little girlfriend out to cali for her to dump you on your ass like the last one?” billy was never too bright in the friendship industry.

“what? no. robin’s not - we’re not like that. we’re just friends.” steve frowned. “i already applied to some community colleges out there. but this isn’t about that right now.” he waved his hand dismissively. “you gonna tell me what’s up with you now? a secret for a secret?”

billy opened his mouth to try and reject the offer, to tell steve to fuck off again, but another sob wracked his body. he let out a frustrated groan through his tears as he scrubbed uselessly at his eyes.

“fuckin’ hate christmas.” he choked out, grabbing onto the saint necklace. his mother’s. “it-“ a whimper. “it was my favorite. at least until my mom,” he shut his eyes tightly, tears spilling out of the corners. “she just. up and left. left me with no note or explanation and a piece of shit father.” he exhaled shakily. “he beat her. and when she left..” he trailed off, gesturing towards himself. “there were no more fucking homemade pies or trees or gifts. just him. always drunk and angry every christmas, blaming me for her. then max and susan came into the picture and they had their perfect little family. celebrated every year.” the without me went unspoken.

billy hadn’t realized steve was inching closer and closer to him until he looked up from the bathtub and found steve inches away from him again, eyes big and sad as they looked over him.

“what are you-“ billy didn’t get to finish his sentence before he was enveloped in a big hug, the guy squeezing him tightly.

“hugging you.” steve mumbled into his shoulder, forcing billy’s face into the crook of his neck. in no time he was crying yet again, right into steve’s fucking shoulder.

steve was good at hugs. good at comfort. the way he rubbed all along billy’s back, one arm secured around his waist made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t in probably a decade. he let himself go again, freely ugly crying into his expensive and soft christmas sweater, clinging onto the material with weak, shaky fists.

“i didn’t know.” steve finally spoke after a minute. “shit, man, no one knows anything about you. i figured your dad was a hard ass after we talked about the fight but not that bad.” he pulled back just an inch, catching billy’s eyes with his own. “does anyone else know?”

billy shook his head.

“why don’t you tell hopper?” steve frowned. “that’s not normal or okay.”

“no point.” billy shook his head. “i turned 18 in november. can’t do jack shit now but wait until i graduate.”

“then move out.” steve said it like it was easy. like he could afford it, like he had anywhere to go.

billy laughed but it was more sad than humored.

“and where would i go?”

“with me.” steve’s response was immediate, no hesitation. “my dad’s always gone on business trips and my mom’s italian.” he said it like it was self explanatory. billy’s confused expression prompted him to continue. “she can’t stand bad parents and she loves company. you’re another mouth to force feed, too. she makes great pasta.”

billy shook his head. “i can’t just move in with you. what if they say no or-or it doesn’t work.”

“they won’t say no.” steve assured. “come on.” he urged. “it’s just one more semester and then we’re off to the golden coast.” he smiled dumbly. “it’ll work. trust me.”

billy went silent. thought about it for a minute. what it could be like to get out of that house. live and be friends with steve. go back home with him later on.

billy slowly nodded. “okay.” he mumbled. “okay.” he repeated again, louder and solidified.

they’d make it work.