#I like (and need) them soft like cotton candy; okay?!

[wandixx]

Count the freckles, connect them like the stars part 1, Virgo

Summary: Five time Danny found and drew constellations from M'gann's freckles and one time she did that for him

Danny wasn’t quite sure how he went from “visiting Mount Justice to train with the Team” to “half laying on the kitchen island and watching M’gann cook”, but he was glad it happened. He had had rough fight with Skulker the day before, so every opportunity to not move was a salvation. Most likely, rest of the Team left him off the hook exactly because they caught it. They all were cool like that.

He smiled, slowly shifting a little to be more comfortable. He liked watching people doing things they like and know well. There was something mesmerizing about it.

The fact, that he could eat some of whatever she ended up making was a great addition. He was always ravenous when away from an ectoplasm central that was Amity Park.

He followed her hands with his eyes, with chin pillowed on his folded arms. There wasn’t as much she did with them as other people would in kitchen, her telekinesis was certainly a great aid, but there was still enough movement to be transfixed on. Especially today, when something in the back of his mind insisted that there was something unusual about her. She was explaining how she found recipe, on accident when looking for something so different that to this day she wasn’t sure how she ended up with this instead, how it was supposed to be super filling so she hoped they’ll all like it, especially Danny and Wally, because then she could make it somewhat regularly and they could have something more healthy than granola bars. He appreciated sentiment even if he insisted she didn’t have to.

He wondered if there was a polite and not weird way to say he’d eat wet carton if she served it to him.

Small sheet of paper and bullpoint pen landed right in front of him, close enough that he felt air move from them.

“Can you add canned tomatoes to the shopping list? English letters still come out unreadable when I try writing them and do something else”

“Sure”

At this point he stopped trying to explain that being able to write clearly when not looking at the paper was not a skill many people had even if English was only language they could write in. It kept falling on the deaf ears. Apparently it was something Martians just did.

Danny maintained his opinion that if they wanted, Martians could rule whole Solar System. And some nearby star systems. Maybe whole galaxy, in a really distant future.

He straightened up in his seat (ouch, ouch, ouch, his body was not a fan of this move), because unfortunately he needed hands, proper posture and quite a lot of focus to write in a way that would be readable to anyone outside of medical field.

Before he could drop back down, satisfied to just watch world around him without having to interact with it in any way, a freckled hand put a plate of some pasta in front of him. Despite tomatoes, it wasn’t spaghetti, which was neat. He promised Sam to try out vegetarian-Wednesdays and sure, she probably wouldn’t know if he ditched it one time, but still. It was nice that M’gann remembered.

He followed her hand with his eye for a moment longer, not quite ready to let go of whatever seemed to be there. It didn’t look too different from usual. Shade of her skin was the same, her fingers stayed short and slender and her freckles were different, but they never really stayed the same, so it wasn’t that either.

“Quit peeping, start eating” she said cheerily, flicking him on the forehead. He smiled and obediently looked at his meal. Before long though, his eyes flickered back to her. What was different? What was-

There.

“Did you know your freckles look like stars today?”

“They do?”

“Yeah. You have Virgo and Cassiopeia on your right forearm”

“Believe it or not, this tells me nothing. I don’t know Earth names for stars yet”

Right. He was an idiot.

He just barely stopped himself from face planting into his pasta in embarrassment.

“Tell me about them?” she asked quietly, like she wasn’t sure if she could.

Danny took a moment to make sure he heard this question right. Usually people tried to shut him down as soon as he mentioned space because he was prone to getting way too obsessive. It was understandable, it could be endearing when he was younger but now it was just plain annoying. Sam and Tucker sometimes indulged in him, especially after he became halfa, with every interest turned up to eleven, but he could never shake off the feeling that they weren’t really listening at times. He didn’t have anything to prove it, it wasn’t like they were taking out something else to do at the same time or anything, but also… they never asked about anything either. He’d catch himself making some small mistake that they should’ve caught too, mispronounce something they knew or say 19-11 instead of 16-11 when talking about invention of telescope, but there was nothing indicating they heard anything wrong.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to tell her. He just didn’t want to chase her away. M’gann was a good friend.

“Are you sure? I can be pretty annoying about it”

“I want to learn. And you want to tell me”

Danny forgot to breathe for a moment and he wasn’t sure what caused it. M’gann looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“I’m not reading your mind, at least not intentionally, you’d know if I did,” she stammered out quickly “But ghosts feelings are really loud, it’s hard to ignore that. Like… if everyone else’s mind is like a house with closed door, one of the older ones with brick walls and smaller windows and such, ghosts have greenhouses at best. Usually they’re also shouting whatever is inside that could potentially not be visible at the first glance. It’s hard to ignore. In your human form you’re usually just like a house with bigger windows and more see through curtains, but today you’re unusually loud. I think it’s because you’re healing so your ghost side is a bit closer to the surface”

“Ah. Alright, cool, cool”

“I can try to deliberately ignore you if you want, but it’s hard with how loud you are, and I’m not sure I wouldn’t drown out your verbal speech too. There isn’t much difference from my perspective”

“No, no, no, you don’t have to do anything, I was just surprised. Just maybe… don’t openly say anything about it? Whatever you hear, I’d kinda prefer to forget you can, for now, okay?”

“Sure thing. So, how does the Virgo look like? I like this name better”

Danny smiled and took pen from the grocery list.

“Virgo is one of the biggest constellations on sky in northern hemisphere and it’s best visible in Spring, so we can go try to find it in few weeks, if you want…”

“You’re asking? I’d love to!” she said with wide smile, sounding far too casual for what she just offered to him.

“Yeah? Cool, cool,” he took deep breath to refocus, because his brain was doing weird things again “I think it’ll be better if I show it to you then, with names of the stars and everything. But people like to make stories about stars, just like with any other aspect of the world around them. I can tell you about that?”

“Yeah, yeah, stop asking, start explaining”

"Okay, so it's a constellation from Babylonian and Greek zodiac. It's associated with goddesses, usually. I never remember the name of the Babylonian one, she was really important one though. Like, queen of gods, I think. Then, through Phoenicians, Greeks learned about Babylonian constellations and decided to adopt it, but they couldn't agree on which goddess should be in reflected in Virgo. So, some said it was Demeter, Goddess of Harvest and all that plant stuff. Others decided it was Cora or Persephone, she had two names, Demeter's daughter, and Godless of Spring and queen of the Underworld, which kinda makes sense, since according to myths, she was more or less trapped in Underworld throughout autumn and winter, and then returned to her mother and happiness of their meeting is what kick-starts the spring. It connects nicely with the fact that Virgo actually gets visible at the start of the Spring but Sun passes through it in autumn, though I'm not sure if some of that isn't caused by slight shift that happens over the course of the years... which is not what I was supposed to talk about sorry"

Feather-light fingers brushed against his hair. He leaned into it with slight smile.

"It's fine. Talk about what gets on your mind, I’m happy to listen," M'gann said gently "So, there were these two possible goddesses who could be represented by this Virgo constellation"

He gently grasped the hand that had this constellation on it, and put a pen down at the first freckle. He haven’t really thought about it, but it felt like the right thing to do.

"Actually, there is third one,” he whispered, suddenly feeling like anything louder would be wrong “She is my favorite for the story, though I don't quite know why. It's probably mostly that Demeter and Persephone have their other times to shine and i just don't see them in stars," line was made connecting two freckles -two stars- as if it was astronomical guide. The thin tipped pen needed a bit of pressure before it left the mark behind. M'gann skin dipped under it more than he realized it should "Her name is Astrea, Goddess of Justice and Innocence. She was one of the titans, so before the gods, though specifics aren't really important. She, unlike both titans and gods, lived among humans. Others preferred mountain tops, respectively Othrys and Olympus-"

"Oh! It's the name that humans gave to that volcano on M'arzz, isn't it?" M'gann asked, sounding delighted to connect information he was giving her to something familiar. Danny didn't raise his head from where he was marking her skin. He didn't know why this felt wrong either. There was something almost sacred in it though.

"Yeah. Since it's the biggest mountain in Solar System, so we named it after mythical home of gods"

"That's nice"

For a moment, they sat in silence, interrupted only by slow breaths and humming of the fridge.

"So, Astrea lived among humans. How did she end up among stars?"

"She was one of the Titans, and back when they reigned, it was a mythical Golden Age. Humanity was pure and innocent and only needed what nature provided us, without having to put in any work. There was no change in seasons, so they didn't even have to worry about scarcity of resources in winter" he lightly went over lines he drew between Spica and Porrima so he could continue on his journey down to Syrma and other stars. He didn’t really raise his pen above M’gann’s skin, just eased it away slightly, so it wouldn’t write for a moment “It was a paradise. But then the gods came and overthrown most titans because of feud that isn't really relevant here. This war was called Tytanomachy and was so destructive that it wiped out all of humans. They were remade later, but slightly worse, slightly less pure. Also, seasons became the thing, so they had to develop agriculture and architecture. They were no longer perfect, but still innocent and righteous enough for Astrea to stay. But with time came Bronze and Iron Ages, with weapons and money and wars and impiety, and people became greedy and cruel and unjust and just against everything she really stood for. So she ascended to heavens, and became constellation of Virgo. But she is said to return at the end of times and bring new Golden Age with her"

“It’s… really pretty story. I like how despite this narrative of living in the worst of times, times so bad that even goddess couldn’t handle, there is little bit of hope for return of the paradise”

"Humanity has a lot of hope in it... And also a lot of «grass is greener on the other side» syndrome, with assuming that times before were better and easier, simply because we don't know about problems people faced back then. Just fill in blanks in a way that fits us"

"I mean, this is similar to a way I decided to escape to Earth, and I'm not complaining"

He finished of last line.

"Neither am I. Nor any other person on the Team. And everyone you saved. Are you, perhaps aspect of Astrea walking around us to see if it's right time to return?" he asked, before he realized how stupid and mortifying this idea was. For a moment, they just looked at each other, with this weirdly intimate tension between them, that almost made him consider the chances of his stupid joke having some merit to it before-

M’gann laughed, bright and loud. Danny joined her, but quickly stopped when overtired muscles reminded him why exactly it was a bad idea.

"Shut up and eat your pasta, you dork. It won’t be any good if it’s cold"

[nouearth]

when the snow settles.

clark kent x male reader.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. clark’s busy spoiling his sick boyfriend with cookies and cuddles—until things heat up when someone decides a kiss (and more) is the real cure for a cold.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 & 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓. one-shot [ 6.0k ].

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. male reader 〳 corenswet!clark 〳 established relationship 〳 sick!reader 〳 christmas!au 〳 sexual content: top!clark, bottom!reader, belly-bulging, breeding, rimming (r!receiving), praising, body worship, clark can alter the temp of his body (and dick).

Snow fell softly outside the apartment, blanketing Metropolis in a serene hush that contrasted sharply with the sound of sniffling from the couch. Clark’s living room was cozy, aglow with the golden twinkle of Christmas lights strung up around the windows. The faint scent of pine mingled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread baking in the oven, though the stuffy haze of your cold dulled the sharpness of both.

You sat bundled in a mountain of blankets, a tissue box on one side and a half-empty mug of tea on the other. Despite the misery of a congested head and the scratchy soreness in your throat, you couldn’t help but watch Clark with a mix of amusement and adoration.

In the kitchen, he moved with a carefree confidence, humming along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as it played softly on his phone. He had insisted on baking cookies for the evening, declaring it the perfect way to boost your holiday cheer. Not that you needed much help in that department—his reindeer antler headband, bouncing with every step he took, was doing most of the work.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his strong forearms, and his glasses had fogged up slightly from the warmth of the oven. Even with the goofy apron he wore—a red and green monstrosity with “Santa’s Favorite Helper” embroidered across the front—he looked unfairly attractive.

Clark glanced over his shoulder at you, a soft smile spreading across his face as his gaze met yours. “You okay over there?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Need more tea? Another blanket? A better boyfriend?��

You groaned theatrically, flopping back into the throw pillows. “What I need is for my head to stop feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.”

And stones—your flair for drama only worsened the throbbing ache from the sudden movement.

Setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies, Clark wiped his hands on a dishtowel and made his way over to you. He knelt beside the couch, one hand reaching up to take the temperature from your forehead while the other rested lightly on your knee through the blanket.

His touch was warm, steady, grounding.

“Still running hot. Sorry you’re feeling this way,” he said sincerely, his brow furrowing just a little. “If I could punch a cold in the face, you know I would.”

You laughed, but it quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Clark was at your side in an instant, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back until the worst of it passed. “It’s so unfair that you never get sick,” you rasped, your voice rough and strained. “You’re just… immune to everything. Meanwhile, I’m over here melting into a Christmas puddle.”

“Wow. This is the thanks I get for baking you cookies? My boyfriend wishing ill on me?” He chuckled, resting his elbows on the edge of the couch to stay level with your gaze. "If it makes you feel better, Krypto would probably be thrilled to drink you up if you were a puddle! Likes his water from the spring... spoiled dog."

His grin was boyish and a little smug, and you rolled your eyes at him, though the corners of your lips twitched upward.

“What I’m saying is… we could’ve been sick together,” you muttered, “But I can’t even enjoy them. Look here.” You picked up one of the gingerbread cookies Clark had carefully decorated earlier, the icing swirls and tiny candy buttons a testament to his painstaking attention to detail.

The cookie felt firm yet inviting in your hand, its edges slightly crisp and still warm from the oven. Breaking off a piece, you popped it into your mouth, hopeful that even through the fog of your cold, some of the sweetness might break through.

Instead, all you got was the texture—a faint crunch that dissolved into a soft crumble on your tongue. The spice you knew should be there, the warm bite of ginger and cinnamon that normally screamed Christmas, was muted to the point of nonexistence.

You frowned, swallowing the flavorless bite with effort. A sharp, scratchy sting flared in your throat, the dry irritation making each swallow feel more uncomfortable than the last. The lack of taste was almost offensive, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly your cold had robbed you of simple joys.

Clark’s eyes flicked over to you, catching your expression as you set the rest of the cookie down with a defeated sigh. “Nothing?” he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

“Absolutely nothing,” you muttered, your voice still scratchy. “I might as well be eating cardboard.”

Clark chuckled softly, getting up on his feet to sit beside you. “Guess that means more for me, huh?” He reached for a cookie, his teasing grin faltering when he saw your pout, but his craving persisted nonetheless. “Hey, don’t worry,” he added, nudging your shoulder gently. “Once you’re better, I’ll bake you a whole new batch. Extra ginger, just the way you like it.”

“Yeah…”

Clark bit into a gingerbread cookie with gusto, clearly enjoying his own handiwork as he snuggled beside you on the couch.

“Mmm,” he hummed dramatically, his eyes widening as he made a show of savoring the bite. “Oh, wow. These might be my best yet. Sweet, spicy, perfectly baked—chef’s kiss.” He gestured extravagantly, grinning like he’d just won a baking competition.

“Not saying these aren’t good, but I’m pretty sure the last time you made cookies, Krypto got more excited than I did."

You were about to roll your eyes at his antics when you noticed a speck of icing clinging to the corner of his mouth and a small crumb nestled in the dimple of his cheek. It was such a ridiculously human detail—charming in its imperfection—that you felt a sudden pang of affection bloom in your chest.

“Here,” you said, laughing softly as you reached up and brushed the crumb away with your thumb, your fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary. His skin was warm, and the bashful smile that tugged at his lips made your stomach flip.

“Didn't stop you from cleaning out the cookie tray...” he murmured, his cheeks pinking slightly as he quickly licked the icing from the corner of his mouth, completely oblivious to how endearing he looked. "Thanks."

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “You’re a mess,” you teased, but your voice was far softer than usual, betraying just how much the sight of him—unpolished, sweet, and so effortlessly Clark—had utterly disarmed you.

Clark’s smile softened, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. His lips lingered for a moment, warm and impossibly tender against your fevered skin. When he pulled back, he looked at you with that impossibly earnest expression that always made your heart twist.

“It’s nice, though, isn’t it?” Clark murmured, his voice soft and warm, like the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting off his glasses. “The cookies, the Christmas specials, the decorations… being snowed in together. Like a Hallmark movie, but… not terrible?”

You could see the flicker of nostalgia in his eyes as he spoke, his tone carrying a quiet sincerity that made your heart ache in the best way. The soft crackle of the digital fireplace playing on the TV and the distant hum of holiday music only made the moment feel more intimate, as if the world outside had disappeared entirely.

A warmth spread through your chest that had nothing to do with fever. Clark had this infuriating knack for making everything—even being sick—feel like a kind of blessing, as long as he was beside you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, your voice rough but laced with affection. “Talking like I’ve got only two months left to live…” You tried for sarcasm, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Clark’s grin softened into something more tender, his gaze unwavering as he watched you. “Yeah,” you admitted quietly, letting out a small sigh. “It’s nice. Really nice.”

The weight of your words hung between you for a moment, and the corners of Clark’s mouth twitched upward again, this time into a bashful little smile. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to.

Instead, his hand found yours beneath the blanket, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles, as if to say everything he didn’t put into words.

You knew he was the strongest man in the world, but it was these quiet moments—his sincerity, his kindness—that made you feel like you were the one holding something unbreakable.

Clark squeezed your hand gently, his expression melting into something tender and a little uncertain. He studied you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every detail. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked softly. “I mean, really okay? I know I’m supposed to cheer you up, but I don’t want to push too much—especially if you’re not feeling great.”

You leaned your head back against the cushions, exhaling a soft sigh. “Clark, I’m fine,” you said, your voice still raspy but carrying enough exasperation to make your point. “I mean, yeah, I feel like I’ve been hit by a snowplow, but it’s not like I’m about to collapse.” Your lips quirked into a small, teasing smile as you tilted your head toward him.

“Besides, you’ve already gone above and beyond. The cookies, the mistletoe, the cozy speeches… you’re basically an elf on the shelf who magically transformed into the perfect boyfriend overnight.” You reached over, your other hand settling on Clark's broad shoulders as you gently rubbed them, a silent gesture of appreciation.

Clark chuckled at that, but the faint blush on his cheeks deepened. “Well, I don’t know about perfect…” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck in that adorably bashful way that made your chest tighten.

“Perfect,” you repeated, a little firmer this time, giving his hand a squeeze. “Even in that ridiculous apron.”

He let out a breathy laugh, and the sound sent a flutter through you. The way his smile lingered—soft and boyish, but edged with a quiet intensity—made your stomach flip. His thumb absentmindedly traced circles on the back of your hand, and though the gesture was small, it felt impossibly intimate.

“Clark,” you mumbled, leaning in slightly, the hoarseness of your voice making his name sound heavier, more charged. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes flicked to your lips before darting away, a faint flicker of hesitation passing over his features. “You’re sick. I don’t want to… you know… make it worse.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you, though it quickly turned into a cough. Clark’s expression immediately shifted to concern, but you waved him off, catching your breath as you gave him a lopsided grin.

“Clark, I’m not made of glass. And for the record,” you added, your voice softening as you leaned in just a little closer with the support of your elbows, “I think kissing you would make me feel a whole lot better. Best medicine and all that.”

His ears turned an impressive shade of red, and he ducked his head slightly, his grin both shy and disbelieving. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

You shrugged, your grin turning sly. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I’m still here,” he echoed softly, his voice carrying a weight of affection that made your heart ache in the best way. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the soft glow of the Christmas lights casting him in a golden halo.

Slowly, tentatively, Clark leaned in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw. “If you wake up tomorrow feeling worse,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, “I’m blaming you.”

“Noted,” you whispered back, your breath mingling with his as you tilted your head to close the distance between you.

Strange. You hadn’t noticed the scent of cinnamon when he first brought out the cookies, but now, with your lips inching closer to his—like two cookies spreading and melding into one—you could almost convince yourself you were cured. Almost, if not for the stubborn stuffiness in your nose.

The kiss was gentle at first, as if Clark was afraid you might shatter beneath him. But when you let out a soft, contented sigh and threaded your fingers through his hair, his restraint wavered.

He deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a warmth and intensity that made you forget all about the congestion and sore throat. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his other hand pressed lightly against your waist beneath the blanket.

You tugged him closer still, your lips parting to let him in as the heat between you began to build. Clark’s kisses were like him—steady, powerful, and infused with an overwhelming tenderness that made your head spin. When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you were breathing harder, the warmth of the moment erasing the chill of the winter night.

“Feeling better yet?” he asked, his voice teasing, though the worry flickering in his eyes betrayed him. It wasn’t just concern over your condition—it was something deeper, a quiet struggle to hold himself back. Not when you looked so effortlessly beautiful, your disheveled state a product of his presence.

“Better,” your voice came out in a whisper, your hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm before traveling around his torso to untie his apron. “But I think I might need a few more rounds just to be sure.”

Clark let out a soft laugh as you tossed the fabric to the floor, his thumb grazing your cheek in a tender gesture. “You’re impossible,” he murmured, but this time the words were thick with affection. His teeth caught his lower lip as your hands lingered at the waistband of his pajama pants, your intentions unmistakable with the gentle tug at his drawstring.

“You sure?” he asked sincerely, large, calloused hands pressing all over your body, but mainly your bare stomach, where he began mapping out heat zones over the plane.You could feel the strength of his abdomen beneath the thickness of his sweater as your hand gently traced his body in admiration. Biting your lip, you reached up to remove his glasses and nodded.

"If you don’t mind taking care of me tonight.”

There was something about the way Clark watched you during moments like these. You couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of his touch or the intensity of his gaze that made you feel so small, so vulnerable. Either way, you savored it—the sensation of being his entire focus, the apple of his eye, and nothing else.

Your stomach sank when he slid his third finger inside of your tight hole, joining his twinned index and middle.

“I can never get tired of this…” you mumbled, unbuttoning the rest of your pajama top when the pressure below heightened your body temperature.

“I’ll say,” Clark hummed, a growing mass forming large in his pants as he was knelt on the bed, gently working you open. The sound of his lubed fingers twisting and curling deep inside of you made his cock jolt, your cheeks reddening as a result of his attraction.

Clark had always been patient, but when it came to having you submit under his touch, he seemed to relish every second. His hands moved slowly, pressing and kneading at just the right spots, his fingers curling deep and slow to the rhythm of your heart while his other hand rubbed small and smooth circles over your stomach.

It wasn’t just about easing your tension—it was about watching you. The way your breath hitched when he found a tender spot, the subtle flutter of your lashes, the way your lips parted with a moan when he spread his three digits—it all captivated him.

He couldn’t help but grin softly as his hands worked their magic, savoring the reactions that only he could coax from you. For Clark, the real reward wasn’t just in soothing your aches—it was in seeing your face completely melt under his touch, your body reacting wantonly because you craved for more.

And with that, Clark went on to give you more. Knowing how sensitive your body’s condition was in the moment, he carefully pushed your legs up, his large hands stabilizing you by the thighs, and replaced the fill of his fingers with his inquisitive tongue.

Like his fingers, he started out slow and deliberate, tracing the swollen ring of muscle to sample the fresh layer of artificially-flavored lube dripping out of your hole. He licked you with a casual ease, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“Smells like coconut,” you sniffled softly as he lifted his head to press a few kisses to your inner thighs. The warmth of his breath lingered on your skin, but your attention caught on the sticky sheen smeared across his cheek, a glistening trace of slick that made your cock twitch.

“Close… coconut cream pie. More vanilla than I was expecting, if I had to be honest…”

A tender smile curved your lips as your fingers found their way into his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingertips. You began to pet his head gingerly, your touch slow and soothing, grounding both of you in the moment.

“Love you.”

Clark leaned into your hand instinctively, a low hum of contentment rumbling from his chest. His eyes fluttered shut briefly, the tension in his broad shoulders melting under your touch, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away entirely.

“I love you too, (M/N).”

His gaze flicked to yours, a sudden spark of mischief between the blinds of his eyelashes, before he paused for a moment, letting the anticipation build, and kept a watchful eye on you while he slowly pushed out his spit to drizzle it over your wet hole.

Then, with agonizing precision, he pushed the remainder of the saliva into the center of your opening, the wet, methodical slck of the motion sending a jolt of heat down your spine.

“Fuck…” Your fingers curled into his hair until they were grasping, pushing him and his tongue deeper into you while simultaneously rutting your hips against him.

Clark was a hungry man. He made sure to clean up any traces of his spit and lube with that thick tongue of his, slurping the remnants before adding onto it again with a generous amount of spit. Every time you thought the trail of saliva was dripping dangerously close to the bed sheets, Clark’s intuition was strong enough to blindly guide him to the leak, deftly licking it back up and kissing your flesh in passing.

He would never waste a single drop.

A quiet, satisfied moan escaped him, low and drawn out, as if savoring the sweetness of the lube and your flesh was a private indulgence. His eyes never left yours as his nose rubbed at your taint in midst of his devouring, The smile that curled at his lips—glazed and glistening—was a challenge, a silent dare that made the air between you feel heavy.

Heavier, when he found the right rhythm of flicking his tongue to make your body writhe under him.

“Clark, please…” you whined, one hand massaging your loose balls while the other toyed with your nipple, pleasuring yourself not only to the sight of Clark indulging in the warmth and taste of your flesh, but also his naked torso.

His chest rose and fell steadily, each inhale making his broad shoulders flex, the faint sheen of sweat catching the light. The planes of his abdomen looked carved, every ridge and dip inviting your eyes to linger, compelling your cock to leak out of sheer astonishment.

His arms were just as mesmerizing—thick and powerful, with veins running along his forearms that seemed to pulse with quiet authority, especially so when he’d alternative between working your hole open with his fingers and tongue again.

The strength they promised wasn’t just physical but protective. Those arms of his were built to shield and hold you.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze lingered, watching as you panted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling, desperate for him to finish what he had so teasingly begun. The tension hung there, thick and electric, like the moment itself had slowed just for the two of you.

He took off the remainder of his clothes before sprawling himself over you, his broad frame hovering just above yours while you seized the opportunity to thank him of his service. Between gentle kisses that Clark needed to get out of his system before he would lose himself in your body, you generously applied a glorious amount of lube on his large cock, though not letting Clark’s kisses answer to nobody.

His muscles pressed gently against you, the solid strength of his chest rising and falling with each breath when you took a couple of moments to thoroughly layer him in slick—to silently appreciate him for his efforts in lifting your spirits throughout the week with firm strokes.

The weight of his cock in your hands was satisfying, hefty enough to make you pause and marvel at the sheer size of it. You couldn’t get used to it, nor did you want to.

“You comfortable? Need more pillows? Tell me if your body starts hurting, okay?” Clark asked, suppressing his moans by showering your neck and face in small, lithe kisses.

His hands roamed your body at their own free-will before they began fixating on your arms, where your goosebumps were discernible. His brows furrowed in concern.

“Little cold…” One arm looped around to caress Clark by the nape, holding his forehead flushed to your own, while your other hand continued to stroke him between your collective hip grinds. You shivered again, despite being nestled so close to him, the draft still biting at your skin.

“Give me a moment,” he murmured softly, the heat of his breath brushing your ear.

You looked up at him, puzzled, but before you could ask what he meant, Clark pulled back just slightly, enough to give himself space to move. Without a word, he began to shift, his body warm and powerful as he adjusted his position. A flicker of surprise passed through you when you saw the subtle concentration on his face, but before you could ask again, you felt it when he pressed himself on top of you again, lowering his hips.

Clark’s body temperature seemed to rise—slowly, but steadily, until you could feel a gentle heat radiating off him. It was as if he was adjusting his own internal warmth, shifting it just for you. Your eyes widened in disbelief, but the shiver running through your body eased, the cold gradually melting away as his warmth enveloped you.

“You should be good now,” he said, his voice low and calm while he pulled you back into his arms, his skin now perfectly heated against yours.

You nestled against him again, finally able to relax as the cold left you entirely. “Not even going to ask,” you graced him with a kiss, reaching between your pelvis and his to adjust his cock against your hole and nodded. “I’m good to go.”

“Love you so much…” He took you by the jaw and slotted his lips into yours once more, grounding the wavering of your breath with his protection before he pushed his hips forth.

“It’s so… big, C-Clark—“ you groaned, clenching your eyes shut through the bittersweet tension of his large cock opening you up.

Clark whispered several I know’s over your lips, a strong effort in placating the pain surging beneath you, while taking a few pauses for you to catch your breath, for Clark to catch his because—you were so tight.

"You're so tight..." Clark seemed to have admitted in a whisper without realizing.

You felt yourself swell within seconds, the crown of your insides clenching him and pushing him out all at the same time, but Clark remained resilient, pushing, and pushing, allowing you to feel the slow, deliberate pressure inside of you, until he was finally deeply rooted inside of you to the hilt, earning himself a deep guttural groan from you as a reward.

“You feel so good, baby. So, so good. Taking me so well…” He peppered your whimpers with soft kisses, his words soothing you as his boyish smile remained, warm and comforting, easing you with each gentle touch and praise.

“You’re so warm too…” you muttered into the palm of his hand, kissing him at the calloused skin before you returned back to his plush lips.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shifted, the feeling of being filled growing deeper, fuller with every inch of Clark’s large cock moving inside of you. Clark’s large palm rested on your stomach, caressing over the bulge that seemed to move in conjunction with his slow, methodical thrusts.

He had never mentioned it, but you knew it was a sight that he secretly loved. Clark's eyes softened with admiration as he watched, his gaze lingering on the subtle curve of your stomach. It was unmistakable, the way it had begun to gently bulge with every rut of his hips, becoming more prominent depending on the strength, the fullness a natural sign of the way your body had been affected by what you’d taken.

And what you had taken was Clark’s love and devotion to you—his thick cock making you gape and swell from beneath.

It wasn’t easy, not by any means, but there was an undeniable pull in watching your stomach swell from his cock—an almost desperate craving for the mixture of pain and pleasure, for the way it made your body react even though your mind wavered between wanting to resist and wanting to surrender completely.

He couldn’t help but marvel at it, his fingertips lightly grazing the curve, tracing its outline with a reverent touch. The way your body had responded to him, the way it molded to the shape of the intimate moment, filled him with a quiet awe. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your skin, his voice low and hushed. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, a hint of wonder in his tone, as if he couldn’t quite believe the sight before him.

Clark was never one to boast, but in this moment, the glint in his eyes spoke volumes. He’d never been so proud of having someone like you—someone so determined—take all of his girth with such unwavering focus despite the tears in your eyes. Happy tears, to which he’d only create more of, when he gently pressed on the bulge in your stomach and sandwiched his cock within your insides, plunging himself deep inside of you until the only sounds that came out of your throat were guttural.

“C-Clark—oh, god…” your cock was dripping in pre-cum, throbbing to the weight of his cock hollowing you out as he sped up his hips and pushed you deeper into the bed on instinct. You held onto his muscular shoulders as he clutched onto your waist and rocked you back and forth along to his deep thrusts.

“God, I’m so deep inside of you. Is this okay, baby? Is it okay that I’m making love to you like this? I’m being selfish, aren’t I?”

“No-please! I l-love it so much, Clark. Fuck. Keep fucking me like that… wouldn’t want anything more—”

“Like this? You like how I’m so deep inside of you to the point where your tummy’s swelling? So… good. You look so good for me…”

His forehead connected to yours again, panting over your mouth and taking a moment to marvel over how he had rendered you speechless before he could muster up the energy to kiss you again, to draw out another sound from you with his tongue.

The warmth of his mouth was almost feverish, his breath mingling with yours in a tangled, wet dance. Each movement was smooth and sensual, your tongues exploring, tasting, tracing the contours of each other’s mouths with growing eagerness. The wetness of it—the gentle press of his lips, the slick glide of your tongues—made the kiss feel all the more intoxicating, as if every flick and sweep brought you deeper into him.

Clark’s body temperature only seemed to have gotten warmer, affecting you from the inside and out as his cock was synchronous.

You could feel Clark’s dick heat you up from the inside, seemingly softening your guts to make the ease of fully wrecking you all the more easier. With each kiss, praise, and thrust, your body melted further, feeling as soft and pliable as butter left out in the warmth. The tension in your muscles faded, replaced by a liquid sensation that spread through you, leaving you entirely at ease and whimpering in his hot embrace.

The faint sheen of sweat gave him an undeniable rawness, a physicality that made your heart race. You were mesmerized by the way it clung to him, the way the droplets caught the light before sliding slowly down his torso.

Each movement he made only seemed to draw you in more, the heat radiating from his body intensifying the pull you felt. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, infatuated not just by his strength, but by the way he looked so alive, so real—like the sweat was proof of his effort, his focus, and the raw intensity of how he was making love to you and that tantalizing hole of yours.

“You’re fucking me so good, Clark. I could come like this, baby—just like this…”

“And when you make a mess—not if, but when—I’ll treat you like the prince you are. I’ll clean you up with my mouth, let you watch me lick every drop away with my tongue, and then I’ll kiss you, giving you a taste of your love for me.”

His skin, damp with the effort of his keen need to wreck you, left a trail of warmth and moisture as he pounded you, a strong, animalistic friction that made every touch feel more intimate and passionate, that made the current position of him mounting you and bending your knees till they touched your chest despite your condition well worthwhile and all the more rewarding.

It was a sound that matched the intensity of the connection between you both—no words needed, just the symphony of his sweaty skin meeting yours, and his cock hollowing you out until you two had made a permanent imprint on the mattress.

Clark’s breath hitched as he watched you, his eyes soft and filled with admiration contrasting with his hardened thrusts. “You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “Just… so perfect.”

His hand moved to your stomach again, evidently in love with the way you swelled from his cock, the weight of the moment sinking in with the aid of the bed creaking, and Clark’s sweaty skin slapping against you.

Every word he spoke, every gentle press of his lips, seemed to soften you, coaxing out of the cold that had been restricting you. It was as though you were being molded by his touch, the heat of his affection spreading through your veins, leaving you pliant, relaxed, and willing to give yourself entirely to him.

All sensation coursing through you was a tangled mess of pleasure and overwhelming intensity. Your body was on the verge of unraveling with every deep thrust of Clark’s. You could feel him swell, veins throbbing inside of you, his balls twitching as he was nearing his high just as you were.

Your eyes fluttered closed, the edges of your vision blurring the harder he pounded into you like an animal, like he was beating away at your cold, and you could feel yourself slipping into a blissful madness.

It was almost too much, yet it felt like the most real thing you’d ever known. Your body trembled from the weight of his body on you, from the girth that Clark was destroying you open with. Every muscle was tight with anticipation, yet you managed to hold onto a smile, the corners of your lips twitching despite the storm raging inside you, your cock throbbing and leaking in overdrive in warning.

“C-Clark..!“

Your hands instinctively found their way around Clark's neck, pulling him closer as if to anchor yourself in the moment. The kiss you pressed against his lips was desperate, full of need and grounding, a silent plea for him to steady you in the chaos as your balls tightened up into your core.

With each breathless press of your mouth to his, you found a sliver of control, a tether to the reality of his presence, even as the pleasure threatened to send you into pure blissful madness.

“I know—me too—“

Your smile lingered, your mind teetered on the edge, savoring every second, every touch, every thrust, and every heartbeat that connected you both, until the very moment where Clark’s name slipped from your lips in a breathless gasp.

“Clark—“

The tension had reached its peak, and when it finally broke, it was like a wave crashing over you, overwhelming and all-consuming. You came in a shared, fervent release. All muscles in your body was taut with desire, the culmination of your love for him unraveling in the form of thick white ropes shooting out of your cock, decorating your bulging stomach with layers upon layers, some splattering onto Clark’s body from the sheer amount of power and arousal.

Clark’s grip on you tightened, his body shuddering against yours as he gave into the same release, his breath ragged in the wake of it. His name left your lips in a soft, trembling sigh as he spilled his warm, thick seed deep inside of your raw hole. He left you breathless, thick, and steady, flooding you in ropes that seemed to never end. It was a powerful, consuming feeling, filling you completely, each pulse of his cock deep and unwavering, decorating your insides with a thickness that left you in awe of how much he had to give, like his body had held nothing back.

Your bodies moved together in those final moments, each thrust and touch sending shock waves through your system as Clark rode out his orgasm. You could feel every inch of him, raw and exposed. The warmth spread through you with each movement, the thick fluid of his cum filling you to the brim, a steady stream that didn’t seem to have an end leaking out of you that would surely have your flesh glued together with his.

Nothing else listed but the two of you—completely undone, unraveling together and leaving behind nothing but the sweet, tender echo of your love for each other.

The room was still, save for your breathing, as Clark’s forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath, tangled together in the beautiful, but sweaty aftermath.

“Are you… feeling better?”

His fingers traced along your skin, over the mess that you made of your stomach to let the sticky substance seep into his own palm, while he caught the remainder of his breath in the crook of your neck, fully collapsing on top of you.

“I…” You groaned, the lingering sensation of pleasure making it hard to find words. But despite the exhaustion, a sly smile tugged at your lips.

You rubbed his broad back in soothing circles, whispering in his ear, “I think I might need another prescription, Doctor.” Your voice was breathless, a mischievous glint in your eyes as the desire still simmered beneath the surface.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: omegaverse, size difference, somewhat subjugating omega politics, old-fashioned high-class politics of sorts

♡ GN reader

Bakugou doesn't tell people about his home life, so you can imagine the Bakusquad’s utter surprise when they invite themselves over only to find out he has a little omega housewife waiting for him.

“Oh, hello,” you say when the four additional Alphas pour in through the door after your Katsuki.

They all look at you unblinking. The biggest one, a redhead, doesn’t seem all that surprised—as though he’d had some suspicion that’s now been laid to rest. But the other three, an electric blond, a guy with raven hair, plus a woman with cotton candy curls, look at you as if they’d just stumbled upon a mouse in a lion's den—all slightly horrified at the sight of you.

Your alpha, the tightly wound grump seething with annoyance, stomps over to you and plants a quick kiss on your hairline. “They just barged in,” he grumbles under his breath. “Sorry if we scared you.”

You hum calmly in turn, “That’s okay. I heard you yelling in the driveway, so I wasn’t surprised.”

The four members of the Bakusquad are all gobsmacked at the domestic sight—the boss, their boss, their hard-headed macho boss, bending over and apologizing to this little omega half his size.

“Are you hungry?” you ask, peaking over the breadth of his hunched shoulders to the others with a warm smile on your pretty face. “I just finished dinner.”

“No,” Katsuki growls grumpily and winds his arms around you—like an old, tired dog, voice gruff, “Uninvited intruders don’t get my dinner.”

You only giggle it off, brushing his stubble with a soft hand, gently handling him further down to your level so you could place a kiss on his other cheek. “Oh, stop, Katsuki. Be nice to your friends.” 

Then you walk off to the kitchen.

Calling out sweetly over your shoulder, “I went a little overboard, so there’s more than enough for everyone.”

And by god, if they don't fall in love with you right then before they’ve even got a single word out.

But love at first sight isn't all so strange. None of them have ever seen an Omega outside of on film—much less been hit with the scent of one. They're all bewitched and confused at the feeling as they trail after you as if they've been compelled by some higher power.

"Please sit," you smile, gesturing to the long table where only two seats have been made. "Katsuki, hon, help me, please"

They all scoot into each their unplaced seat while your big lousy Alpha begrudgingly helps set the table for the unwanted dinner guests. They remain silent as you serve them like the perfect homemaker—all crimson-cheeked and ashamed at how they sniff after you as you pass them by.

You sit just as brightly despite the awkward tension. "Please, enjoy."

They all obey, eating in utter silence—every single one of them trying hard not to stare—and all failing miserably.

Kaminari's the first to speak, having been left shaken by curiosity he no longer could contain.

"So... did he kidnap you, or?"

It's a fair question to some extent. Omega's are a dime a dozen, all regulated strictly by protective institutions. You can't just find one to mate like in the old days. You need to apply for one and be vetted—not to mention they cost a fortune.

"Denki!" Kirishima whisper-shouts in admonishment, shaking his head from across the table.

"What? I'm I the only one who's thinking it?" he throws his hands up and defends.

Katsuki's fist strains around his fork, but you lay your mit atop his, and he calms down shortly.

“Don't worry, Mitsuki and Masaru made the arrangements and paid the dowry," you giggle, running your hand through your Alpha's ashen hair with fondness in your eyes. "I was a graduation present of sorts. They worried Katsuki wouldn't take care of himself once he started working and thought having a mate might help him with his busy day.”

If Katsuki appreciates you spilling his business like that, he doesn't say anything about it—just continues eating.

Denki sighs and sags in his chair. “I always knew Bakugou’s folks were loaded. How nice...”

Sero grins, “Your jealousy is showing.”

Denki pouts, “I’m not exactly tryna hide it.”

"Yeah..." Mina pipes up. "Can't deny I'm jealous, too."

Sero's grin falls as well with his confession, "Yeah, me neither, actually."

You keep smiling sympathetically, "Well, you're all welcome here—I don't mind the extra company."

"Really?" Denki lights up.

Mina and Sero, too—in awe and in unison, saying, "She's an angel."

"Get yer own," Katsuki grumbles. "Now shut up and finish your food. Then you're leavin'—all of you."

"Oh, come on, man," Denki whines. "Have a little pitty for your fellow Alphas."

"Let's stay respectful, guys," Krishima buds in lightheartedly. "Think about what you're asking."

Then, rethinking the conversation, the other three all realized how it had sounded, even though they hadn't meant it that way. And they all blush even darker than before.

And still, you just smile—alphas are all so cute.

Especially your hyper-protective one.

♡ prequel ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[n1daehodefender]

hii 💕 I love your writings. can I please request a fic or headcanons about going on an amusement park date with daeho (or anyone else you write for)? thank youu

Going to the amusement park headcanons!!

Pairing: Kang dae ho, Nam gyu, thanos (su-bong) separately

Warnings: none i think?

A/N: im sorry i havent posted in a couple days i havent been feeling my best:) but reqs are open

Kang Dae-ho

Dae-ho is over-the-moon excited when you suggest going to the amusement park. He immediately starts planning, looking up the best rides, the tastiest food stalls, and even figuring out the least crowded times to make sure the experience is perfect.

He insists on matching outfits, joking about wearing something ridiculous like cartoon-themed shirts or silly hats, but if you agree, he’s all in.

The morning of the trip, he wakes you up early, practically bouncing around like an overexcited puppy. He’s already packed essentials: sunscreen, water bottles, snacks, and even a small first-aid kit (his sisters made him overly prepared for everything).

Dae-ho’s excitement is contagious. He practically drags you from ride to ride, beaming like a kid on Christmas morning.

He’s obsessed with roller coasters and tries to convince you to ride the scariest ones with him. If you’re hesitant or scared, he’s incredibly understanding and doesn’t push. Instead, he’ll hold your hand, joke around to distract you, and promise to buy you as many snacks as you want afterward.

He’s a pro at carnival games. He wins a giant stuffed animal for you after spending way too much time and money on it. He’s ridiculously proud of himself and insists on carrying it around all day, even when it’s clearly inconvenient.

Between rides, he loves taking quiet breaks, sitting on benches while sharing cotton candy or churros. He insists on feeding you a piece, and his bright smile when you finally let him is priceless.

He’s incredibly affectionate, holding your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, or pulling you into spontaneous hugs. If you’re shy about PDA, he tries to tone it down but can’t help sneaking in little touches.

At sunset, he pulls you onto the Ferris wheel, claiming it’s the perfect way to end the day. As the ride reaches the top, he gets uncharacteristically quiet, gazing out at the view before turning to you with a soft, almost shy smile. “This is the best day ever… because I got to spend it with you.”

If anyone bumps into you or tries to cut in line, he immediately steps in, his normally sweet demeanor replaced with a firm, protective tone. He doesn’t get aggressive, but his presence alone is enough to make people back off.

He’s hyper-aware of your comfort, constantly checking if you’re okay, if you’re tired, or if you need anything.

Nam Gyu

Nam Gyu isn’t exactly thrilled when you suggest the amusement park. He claims it’s “too crowded and noisy,” but deep down, he’s touched that you want to spend the day with him. He tries to act nonchalant, but you catch the small smile he hides when you talk about your plans.

He’s not a morning person, so he grumbles the entire way there, sipping on his coffee and complaining about how early it is. But the moment he sees your excitement, he softens and starts making sarcastic comments to make you laugh.

Nam Gyu is surprisingly fun to go with because of his dry humor. He makes sarcastic remarks about the overly enthusiastic park staff, the overpriced snacks, and the long lines, but it’s all in good fun.

He’s not a fan of extreme rides, but he’ll go on them if you want to. He tries to act unfazed, but you catch him holding on for dear life during a particularly intense roller coaster. When you tease him afterward, he just smirks and says, “I was worried you’d be scared.”

His favorite part is the haunted house. He claims he’s not scared, but you catch him flinching at the jump scares. He tries to cover it up by teasing you, saying, “You screamed louder than me,” even if it’s not true.

Despite his gruff exterior, Nam Gyu has a soft side that shows in subtle ways. He buys you a souvenir without you asking and pretends it’s no big deal, even though he clearly put thought into it.

He’s not openly affectionate in public, but he’ll hold your hand or casually drape his arm around you, acting like it’s no big deal. If you’re nervous about a ride or a crowd, he gently squeezes your hand to reassure you.

By the end of the day, he’s surprisingly relaxed and even admits he had fun (though he’ll never outright say it was because of you). As you leave the park, he mutters, “Maybe we can do this again… sometime.” It’s his way of saying he had a great time without losing his cool persona.

Thanos (Su-bong)

Su-bong is so excited about going to the amusement park with you. He insists on making it a surprise date and goes all out, even printing out the park map and planning an itinerary.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, running from ride to ride with boundless energy. You can barely keep up with him, but his laughter and enthusiasm are so infectious that you don’t mind.

He’s fearless when it comes to rides, always choosing the biggest, fastest, and scariest ones. He cheers loudly during roller coasters and even throws his hands up, encouraging you to do the same.

On gentler rides, like the merry-go-round, he pretends to be bored but secretly loves the cheesy charm of it. He jokes about riding the biggest horse and asks you to take pictures of him posing dramatically.

Su-bong is super competitive at carnival games. He spends way too much money trying to win a stuffed animal for you, refusing to give up until he succeeds. When he finally wins, he acts smug and says, “Told you I’d get it for you.”

He also challenges you to silly games, like who can eat the most cotton candy or who screams the loudest on a ride. His laughter is constant, and his playful attitude makes the day unforgettable.

Despite all the chaos, Su-bong has a surprisingly romantic side. He insists on taking cute selfies together, making silly faces and then snapping one where you’re both smiling genuinely.

He surprises you by buying matching accessories, like hats or bracelets, and proudly wears his, claiming it’s a “symbol of our teamwork.”

At the end of the day, he takes you to a quiet spot to watch the fireworks. For once, he’s uncharacteristically quiet, wrapping his arms around you and whispering, “Thanks for making today so amazing. You’re the best part of any adventure.”

[cheriecelestial]

Angel Pt.III

pairing*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Red Hood!Jason Todd X fem!reader

disclaimer*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ nsfw. 18+ content. MDNI. porn with plot. creampie. unprotected sex. phone sex(if you can call it that). oral(m!+f! receiving). our jaybird is tad bit obsessive and manipulative (mild yandere content). mild mask kink. praise. dacryphilia. fingering. mentions of domestic and child abuse. swearing. canon typical violence. crowbars. not proofread !

a/n*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ Okay so here’s what was promised. It’s my first time writing smut so please let me know your thoughts in the comments. All flashbacks are in italics. Comment Reblog and Like

☆〜（ゝ。∂）

╰ ┈➤ Part I ➤ Part II

Y/N knew that Red Hood leaving would create a void in her life, but she hadn’t anticipated feeling so adrift. The excitement she once felt at the sight of the fridge filled with expensive groceries, imagining them cooking together, disappeared without a trace. A humorless chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips staring at the assortment of items he bought, wondering why he assumed she needed seven kinds of cheese, varieties she didn’t even know existed.

Despite her best efforts to keep herself busy, Y/N couldn’t ignore the emptiness growing inside her. Somehow, she found herself struggling to navigate everyday life with the listlessness weighing down on her, even her friends begun to notice. The void left by his absence grew more palpable with each passing day, leaving her longing for him to return. Why are you moping around like that? It’s not like he was your boyfriend or anything. A voice taunted her. He’ll be back before you know it, yet a hopeful voice reassured her. What if he won’t? What if he — no. I can’t think that. Y/N slapped her hands on cheeks to snap herself out of dismal train of thoughts. He’s strong, he’ll come back. He has to.

Her eyes found their little parcel he had left her. Exactly 15 minutes after Red Hood left, a parcel arrived for Y/N in the mail, much like the one she received a couple months back — though slightly larger. Unwrapping the brown paper around it was a shoebox with the words “Red’s Anti-Goon Starter Kit” written on it with permanent marker. Inside were several unusual items like tiny smoke bombs, a very potent possibly industrial strength taser, pepper sprays which Y/N was sure were banned sometime back and a flip phone. Accompanying these tools was another handwritten manual, meticulously detailing the operation of each item in the simplest language possible.

She couldn't help but marvel at the items before her. As she studied the contents of the kit, she felt the mix of gratitude and apprehension stirring within her. The things he gave her were unsettling, though thoughtful. Somehow it reminded her of an alley cat, who would get odd sorts of gifts for people who were nice to them. Y/N took out the phone and stashed the box under the couch because whenever Stephanie was over, she had a habit of snooping around the kitchen cabinets for snacks so it wouldn’t be the best place to put it. She plugged in the phone, noticing it appeared pristine with no contacts saved. She just assumed that the phone was for calling her without either of them getting tracked.

As days turned into weeks and then months, Y/N would often find herself staring at the phone, hoping the small screen to buzz to life. Leaning against her balcony railing as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, she drifted into a daze. Twirling strands of hair absentmindedly, her thoughts inevitably returned to him; wondering where he would be or if he’s eating well.

The apartment felt eerily quiet. With a sigh, Y/N pulled out the flip phone, scrolling through it for the nth time. The sleek and compact flip phone sported a soft pastel pink colour, the same shade of cotton candy with tiny shimmering Sanrio charms dangling from silver chains and the keypad adorned with dainty floral patterns that lit up with a soft pink glow when in use. The cover was embellished with rhinestones. Ever since she was young, Y/N had always harbored a fondness for cute things and this phone was something she had always longed for something like this since her middle school days.

Y/N wondered if he would call, glancing at it in anticipation. Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as her mind conjuring up various scenarios. And almost as if on cue, the phone illuminated with an unfamiliar number flashing on the screen. Y/N’s heart raced, nearly dropping the device in shock. Rushing to her bed, she hastily answered the call, her breath catching in her throat.

Relief washed over her as she was greeted by a very familiar voice on the other end, a wave of happiness flooding through her. Y/N's brain buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. She hadn’t heard his voice in months. Her heart fluttered with a mix of joy and longing as she savored the sound of his voice. “Red,” she whispered softly with a smile on her face. “Yes. I did. Very much so, ”she confessed,“ How about you ?”

His response was immediate, filled with the same affection that had always warmed her heart. “More than you’d think,” his voice so crackled over the phone that Y/N almost thought she imagined it. She buried herself in the blankets wrapped around her, almost being feel his presence, as if he were right beside her rather than miles away. His tone was tender, leaving a strange sort of chill on her skin. In that moment, the distance between them seemed insignificant, eclipsed by what she felt.

“So, how’s that mission going? Any hope of returning soon?” She joked to lighten the mood of the conversation. “Sorry angel. This might take a while. I could only call you once throughout this whole thing and tonight was particularly tough. I just needed to hear your voice.” his voice seemed uncharacteristically vulnerable, casting a bittersweet shadow over their conversation. Y/N's heart ached with empathy as she listened to his words, realizing the sacrifices he had to make for Gotham. “I understand. Take your time and I’ll be here waiting for you.” Her voice a gentle reassurance across the airwaves.

There was a brief pause filled with unspoken sentiments and shared longing before he spoke again, his voice tinged with gratitude and affection ,“Fuck don’t do this to me angel. I swear I’ll drop everything and take the next flight to Gotham.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a smile as she let out a soft chuckle, “ As much as I would like that, your mission is important.” Her tone gentle yet firm. With those words, the burden of his duty weighing down on his shoulders felt a little lighter, buoyed by her unwavering spirit. He sighed in resignation, “I know I know but that doesn’t make it any easier. Y’know what angel? Forget it. Just keep talking. Anything, topic doesn’t matter. I just need to hear you.”

“Of course,” her heart swelled with tenderness at his request. I guess what people said about distance making the heart grow fonder was true. Despite the crackling static and interference, every word was like a soothing melody to him. After a point he lost track of what she was saying. Everything around him seemed melt away and was replaced with him, her voice and joy at its purest.

Y/N couldn’t help but notice the faint groans and whimpers on the other end of the line. She initially dismissed it as static but still decided to ask, “ Red are you okay?” Red Hood replied with a nervous cough, “ Wh-what? Yeah, I’m okay. Don’t worry. J-just don’t stop talking. Okay?” His voice was hoarse, and his breathing became noticeably choppier. Y/N was the least bit suspicious but still continued rambling on about the happenings of the cafe. “Though I still don’t get why you thought I needed so many different types of cheese.”

“I just read somewhere that women like cheese. You can make into a charcuterie board or something.” He answered casually, trying to stifle the soft moans slipping from his lips. Y/N paused, I could swear I heard moan. The only time people make such sounds are when they’re in pain or when they’re —

“Red, are you hurt?” she asked again cautiously. He hesitated for a moment, his breath catching in his throat, before reaffirming, “ N-no. I’m fine. Just dealing with stuff. That’s all.” His words came out oddly strained. “If you insist.” She sighed in resignation. There was a moment of silence on the other end before he let out a shaky exhale, “I should really get going. I’ll see you soon” And just like that the line went dead.

Y/N sat there, staring at her phone, her mind swirling with questions. It didn’t sound like he was with someone. Could he be —? Heat rose to her cheeks as images flashed through her mind. No no don’t think such things Y/N. She did suspect that her advances hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed by him. Well, it seems she’ll just have to make sure when he gets back.

Two more months flew by since the phone call and the frequency of thoughts about him had, albeit not much, diminished as she busied herself with work. As the last customer sipped the last of their latte and left— Y/N sighed, preparing to close up and head home. With Stephanie having to leave early because of a family emergency, Y/N found herself alone to shut down the shop. She wiped the espresso machine and counter tops clean once again, leaving them gleaming under the dim glow of the overhead lights. With each swipe, she removed any traces of the sticky spills and stray coffee grounds left behind by the bustling crowd, a farewell to the day’s countless cappuccinos and macchiatos. The hiss of steam escaping the machine, the gentle dripping of taps from the cleaning of the frothing wands, the screech of the chairs across the wooden floors — all seemed to reverberate a little louder than usual in the tranquil solitude. Flipping the closed sign gave her a sense of satisfaction, marking the end of yet another long day.

With a final glance around the now-empty café, Y/N flicked off the lights and locked the door. Outside, the evening sky had dimmed to a soft twilight, casting a warm glow through the café windows. The bat signal appeared in the sky above her, a small smile gracing her lips as she remembered Red Hood. It reminded her of the red bat insignia on his chest— a symbol known to strike fear into the hearts of all those that dare take advantage of the innocent but struck solace and warmth in hers. She hadn’t gotten far on her way home when she felt her purse vibrate. Y/N pulled out her phone and realized it was the flip phone that chimed. The phone could be used only once to contact Red Hood, and she knew she wouldn’t be receiving another call on it without compromising her safety, yet she carried it around as a tangible reminder of his promise.

With a sense of both apprehension and anticipation, she flipped open the phone to answer. However, this time, it wasn’t a call. It was a text message. The message contained a straightforward address located near the Narrows; a part of town Red Hood had specifically warned her to steer clear of. Y/N couldn’t help but feel skeptical about the ominous message. But what if it is him? Her fingers hovered over the SOS button on her necklace, a safety net if things took a turn for the worse.

Y/N remained alert as her footsteps echoed through the desolate streets, she felt a chill creeping up her spine which just felt all the more foreboding in the eerie stillness around her. Yet in that stillness — she could hear the insects buzzing around the flickering streetlights, the distant howls of stray dogs and the sounds coming from the seemingly abandoned buildings looming overhead, slowly building a palpable sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was much more unsettling than the night she met him in the alley near her apartment. She could feel someone’s gaze burning holes into the back of her head, but she couldn’t tell if it was the product of her paranoid imagination or not.

Y/N looked over her shoulder but saw no one feeling her senses heightened by the creeping unease. She tried but couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was being watched but every nerve in her body remained on edge. Yet despite the trepidation suffusing in the air, she was driven to see this through the end. Y/N pulled out the flip phone and dial the number that Red Hood used to call her. Within moments, the faint chime of a ringing phone echoed somewhere nearby.

With her heart thudding against her chest, she followed the sound of the ringing phone. As she rounded a corner, the sound became cleared and clearer — a phone lying on top of cardboard boxes next to a dumpster, its neon screen lighting up in the darkness. She slowly approached the phone, hands trembling slightly as she reached out to pick it up. As her fingers touched the phone, she felt a sudden presence loom behind her. Before she could react, darkness enveloped her vision, silencing any screams that may have escaped her lips.

“Must you have incapacitated her so forcefully, Roy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t have the luxury to serenade and take her for coffee before bringing her here. In case you didn’t notice Kory we have a stubborn son of a bitch bleeding out.”

“I noticed plenty but she’s a civilian, you know they’re… fragile. You ought to be more considerate Roy. I doubt he will take it well.”

“He was the one who asked me to bring her here in the first place.”

“Your funeral.”

“Well if this one doesn’t wake up soon there’ll be a funeral, just not mine. Should I get some water to pour on her?”

“Don’t even — hush I think she’s waking up.”

Y/N eyes fluttered open, the world around her seemed hazy and distant. The room in front of her danced in and out of focus, a ballet of blurred shapes and muted colours. The last thing she remembered was the events of the —. She shot up, immediately regretting it as she was hit by a head splitting migraine. Discomfort took over almost immediately when her eyes moved about, albeit slowly, taking in her surroundings properly now that her head was clearing up somewhat.

What she was able to take it, was one of few things. First, she was on a very comfortable couch with a blanket draped around her shoulders and secondly, two red heads in costumes staring at her curiously.

“You ���,” she started, her throat feeling parched but still continued, “ Arsenal and Starfire? You’re Red’s friends.” Her words were careful, she pretended to not have overheard their conversation from before. She knew that she was better off not knowing the real identities of people like them. That’s why she never tried to take Red Hood’s helmet off. And though she would never admit it out loud to anyone else, but she knew having a mask kink in a place like of Gotham wasn’t the best idea.

Arsenal, or as his teammate called him, Roy exchanged a glance with Kory and spoke up first with a cocky smirk, “ You got that right princess. How’re ya feelin’?” Kory offered her a comforting smile, though her glowy neon eyes were somewhat intimidating to Y/N. She heard somewhere that Starfire was the alien princess of a faraway planet but never thought much of it. Nevertheless, she appreciated the effort Kory was making to appear friendly.

“Fine I guess.” The h/c haired woman forced a small smile, trying to ignore the twinge of pain around her neck and in her head. Roy chuckled, leaning back on the couch. “Thank fuck. If anything happened to his precious little darling, Hood would have me six feet under.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Red’s name, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “He talks about me?” she asked shyly.

“Uh No,” Roy began ,“I’d wager he planned on keeping you all to himself cuz y’know he’s not big on sharing and not that I don’t see why.” His grin held a flirtatious edge with his gaze subtly checking her up and down until Kory smacked his shoulder, making him to wince and drop his smile immediately. “Please don’t mind him,” she said with a gentle laugh, “He means well even though his words lack … finesse.”

Roy huffed, almost pouting, “ I’m right here y’know.” Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle at their banter, though the question about Red lingered in her mind. Meeting Arsenal and Starfire was pleasant, but there was someone else she longed to see. “Where is Red?” she finally asked, unable to suppress her curiosity. Roy’s eyes widened and Kory’s expression turned into a pained one. “Fuck I totally forgot about him. Come with me.” He exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and leading her urgently to the room. Red Hood lay on the stretcher in the center, clutching his side and softly groaning. Y/N’s breath hitched in horror as she rushed to his side. “Red ?” she asked, her voice trembling with concern. “Long time no see angel,” he mustered a light-hearted chuckle but despite his efforts she could almost see the grimace under his mask.

he mustered a light-hearted chuckle but despite his efforts she could almost see the grimace under his mask.

“We need to call a doctor!” She turned to Roy and Kory with panic lacing her tone. As vigilantes, she assumed they must have a designated doctor at their base, like in movies where such groups often had retired military personnel or medical prodigies in their ranks.

Roy clicked his tongue and sighed before stating matter-of-factly, “We did call a doctor.” Both of them glanced between Y/N and Red Hood. “I was the best you could find ?!” she exclaimed incredulously. It seemed unbelievable given the seriousness of Red Hood's condition. While she had patched up a few wounds before, her last operation had been back in med school and even then, it was her teacher performing it on a cadaver.

He shrugged apologetically, understanding the gravity of the situation. “We’re stretched thin right now. Plus, you’re the one he asked for,” he admitted.

“You want to put his life in the hands of a med school dropout ?!” Y/N asked rhetorically. “You’re a dropout?” Kory blinked in surprise. “He didn’t tell you?” The h/c haired woman gasped incredulously. All three pairs of eyes turned accusingly towards Red Hood. He shifted uncomfortably under their gazes, tense with unease. “It's not like that," Jason began, but Y/N interrupted him with a pointed look, crossing her arms, “Not like what? That you failed to mention you were relying on someone with minimal experience?” Her tone tinged with frustration.

“Can we do this later doll? Kinda dying here.” He coughed out, followed by a pained groan. Y/N felt a lump form in her throat and his discomfort grew almost palpable. Despite still being visibly distressed, her expression softened slightly — not being able to bear to see him in pain like this. “Fine,” she relented, steadying her panic and her concern breaking through her annoyance, “Let's focus on getting through this first.” With a nod of agreement, Kory and Roy turned their attention back to the task at hand. “We need to stabilize him until we can get him to a real qualified medical practitioner,” Y/N stated eyeing him accusingly. Jason let out a small sigh, relieved to momentarily escape the interrogation, though he could feel his consciousness slipping away from the blood loss.

“Stay with us bud.” Roy tapped his helmet. Jason’s grip on his consciousness was tenuous but still he nodded with labored breaths, fighting against the pull of exhaustion as they worked frantically to stabilize him. Y/N quickly immersed herself into the task, seizing the bag of sterilized equipment in the team’s med bay.

“Take off his armour.” Kory’s hands worked nimbly through Jason’s armour. It took her less than a minute to dismantle everything. The three worked in a manner that felt almost choreographed with their intent clear – to save their friend.

The skin of Red Hood’s torso marked was network of scars and red splotches. Y/N knew that for someone like him, injuries were inevitable and so were the scars they left behind. There were minor ones that resembled cigarette burns and larger ones that were angry red ones from fire or acid. She recognised some of the slashes as the ones she stitched herself. She recalled that Red Hood, probably not wanting her to see his wounds, would always pull his shirt back down as soon as she finished sewing. As someone who grew up in the rough part of town, she was no stranger to scars so she didn’t feel repulsed by them, rather she felt a sense of awe for the man who did everything in his power to make Gotham a better place. People admired the bat vigilantes sure, but not all knew just how tough it actually was, honestly Y/N didn’t know if she understood either but one thing, she knew was that Red Hood was worth every ounce of respect he commanded with each scar being the testament of the storms he weathered.

However, one scar particularly stood out to her, probably the biggest one. The raised ridges in shape of a Y travelling from his collarbones to his abdomen. Y/N felt her stomach lurch, she had seen that shape in medical book several times but never on a living person. Maybe it was some sicko who carved it onto him during one of his missions, she tried to convince herself but in the back of her head she knew that it was too prominent to be just skin deep.

“Y/N?” Roy’s voice broke her reverie, snapping her back to reality. Y/N quickly looked away, realizing she had been staring. “Turn him over. We need to remove the bullet first,” she instructed Kory and Roy. You can't afford to space out like that, she mentally scolded herself. Refocusing, she pushed aside her distractions. The blood had soaked through the first aid bandage, tainting the sheets crimson under him. “This might hurt. Do you have anaesthesia?” She inquired. Roy shook his head sheepishly, “We don’t keep that, but we do have booze, a leather belt to bite onto and horse tranquilizers. Would any of that work?” Y/N gaped at him incredulously. “Perhaps not,” Roy muttered, searching the room for alternatives. “Just go ahead without it,” Red Hood rasped, his voice barely audible. “But—” Y/N began in protest. “I don’t need it and besides you’d kiss it better, wouldn’t you angel?” he joked. Her face broke into a smile seeing his bravado still intact.

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, appreciating his attempt to lighten the tense situation. “As you wish,” her tone softened with affection and partly from being impressed by his resilience. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her hands and began the task of removing the bullet from the injured area with utmost caution and care. Despite the lack of anaesthesia, Jason endured the discomfort stoically only to wince ever so slightly, not wanting to cause Y/N any more distress. Kory and Roy could only watch in awe as she worked with exceptional finesse. Regardless of what Y/N said, Roy could tell that she was far more skilled than she admitted to being. Maybe calling her wasn’t that bad of an idea after all.

Gotham city was a place where shadows stretched endlessly, the skyscrapers piercing the skies like jagged edges of broken glass cutting through the darkness. It offered a stark contrast to the labyrinth of impoverished and gritty streets of the Narrows.

Poverty, desperation and every other negative emotion to man was pervasive with the social fabric frayed under the weight of corruption and systemic injustice. And when it rained, the sound of the fresh water striking the flimsy roofs of the dilapidated buildings carried a sense of morbid irony - a reminder of despite how the city was plagued by perpetual rainfall, there were those who still struggled to get access to drinking water. But even then, the rainwater was far from fresh considering the untreated chemicals the industries pumped into the air of Gotham. Water was turned to acid and people’s hearts and minds to poison.

After working a long and tiring shift, Y/N stepped out the back door to dispose of the leftovers amidst the rain threatening to soak her cheap and scratchy waitress uniform. As she approached the dumpster, she heard movement and craned her neck to see what it was. “Jase?” she called out. In a moment’s notice, the boy crawled from under the empty cardboard box with his face lighting up when he saw her. Y/N’s eyes widened as she noticed the boy drenched head to toe and sporting a huge blue-black bruise across his cheek and eye.

“How did this happen?” She asked gently caressing his cheek and guiding him out of the rain. After their first meeting, 14-year-old Y/N formed an unlikely friendship with the elementary schooler. The boy recoiled from her touch and averted his gaze. She sighed, “Willis is having one of his episodes again?” Jason’s expression turned solemn, and he nodded slowly, “Mom told me to stay at the neighbor’s for the night but the neighbor was being weird and handsy, so I ran away.”

“Well let’s get you something to eat and that treated,” Y/N pointed at his black eye and continued, “I’ll call Catherine and let her know you’ll staying with me for the night, but we need to go home for that. Lucky for you, my shift just ended.”

“Don’t you have a phone?” Jason asked curiously. Since everyone he knew who had a job had a phone, it simply made sense that she would as well. “Ain’t got the kind of money for that kiddo. But if I did, I’d probably buy those cute flip phones. You know the cutesy ones with the flower pattern, rhinestones and crystal chains?”

“But they’re so —” his nose wrinkled in revulsion making Y/N laugh at his cute expression, “ Girly?” She made a guess, and he slowly nodded. “Well, I am a girl,” She patted his head but as soon as her hand touched his forehead, she withdrew it with a gasp, “ My god, Jase you’re burning up!”

“It’s nothing.” The boy muttered. Y/N shook her head firmly, “Pardon me but it’s not exactly convincing coming from someone who looks like a sopping wet cat. We’re going home no buts, you hear me?” Jason hesitated, torn between his discomfort and not wanting to burden Y/N. He knew her situation wasn’t much different from his own, and he couldn’t keep taking advantage of her kindness. “I-I’ll be okay. I don’t need your help.” he insisted but a dizzy spell from his raging fever hit him just as he spoke. Y/N caught him quickly, her expression leaving no room for argument. She crouched down, motioning for him to get on her back. “Get on. I’ll take you home,” she said. Jason complied without resistance. “I’m heavy you know,” he remarked. Y/N blew out a laugh as she stood back up. “And I’m stronger than I look you know.”

She draped her raincoat over both of them and carried him home, her steps steady despite the added weight. She could feel Jason’s fever rising, she kept talking to him trying to keep him awake despite his half-slurred responses in his fever-induced haze.

Much to her relief, it was Y/N’s mom that answered the door. “Is that Jason?” Her mom asked and Y/N nodded, gently placing him on the couch and explaining the situation. Her mother's gaze darted between her daughter and the boy; her expression filled with concern. “Y/N you can’t keep doing this.”

“Mom please he’s just a boy —”

“He is not your responsibility. He has his parents for that. You need to learn to be more selfish, this is the Narrows not the diamond district. If your father finds him —”

“He won’t.” Y/N answered in a clipped voice. Jason couldn’t help but feel guilty, it was clear that her mother wasn’t going to help, and he understood why. Both of them knew that all too well that Y/N was too kind for her good and insisted on helping despite the fact that they themselves were barely getting by. Despite his state, he could feel the tension in the air. He felt like an intruder, burdening Y/N and her family with his problems.

“The bathroom’s over there. Go change,” Y/N instructed, her voice firm but not unkind. She set a clean set of clothes down beside Jason and draped a towel over his shoulders. Her movements were practical, efficient, but there was a softness in the way she cared for him that didn’t go unnoticed. Y/N’s mother stood leaning against the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed as she watched Y/N heat up a glass of milk on the stove. Her expression was a mix of frustration and concern.

“What’s with this kid, anyway?” her mother remarked, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Feeding a stray cat or dog every now and then is one thing, but this… this is too much. We can’t afford this.”

Y/N’s hands stilled for a moment, her grip tightening on the glass. She took a deep breath before turning to face her mother, her eyes steady but filled with emotion. “Then what do you want me to do, Mom? Send him back to his abusive father and just let him—” Her voice faltered, catching in her throat as the weight of her words hit her. She paused, swallowing hard before continuing, her voice quieter but no less determined. “I can’t do much about my own life, but at least I can help him.”

Her mother’s gaze hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “So is that what this is? Pity?” she questioned, her tone sharp and probing.

“Call it whatever you want. It doesn’t matter to me,” Y/N said, brushing past her mother with a tray in hand. She set it down on the bedside table next to Jason, who sat hunched under a blanket, his face pale and drawn. She poured a dose of medicine onto a spoon and held it out to him, but he turned his head away, his expression clouded with hurt. “I don’t need your pity,” he muttered, his voice low and strained.

Y/N lowered the spoon, exhaling slowly as she felt the weight of his words settle in her chest. Her heart ached, realizing that her intentions might not be coming across the way she had hoped. “It’s not pity, Jase,” she said gently, setting the spoon aside. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside him, searching for the right words. She knew the sting of being pitied all too well, and the last thing she wanted was to make him feel that way.

“I hate the Narrows,” she began, her voice quiet but firm. “Every single inch of it.” Jason stayed silent, his eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to go on. “You heard what my mom said, and I get it—she means well. But I refuse to be selfish. I just can’t. Because everyone here is. The adults? They only care about themselves. So it’s up to us—the kids—to look out for each other, you know?”

Jason nodded slowly, his guarded expression easing slightly as he listened. Y/N felt a flicker of relief, grateful that he seemed willing to hear her out.

“It’s like… we’re all we’ve got,” she continued, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. “Everyone expects us to turn out just like them—selfish, bitter, and broken. And if I give in to that, if I stop caring, then how am I any different from the people I can’t stand? So no, Jason, this isn’t pity. I’m doing this for you, but I’m also doing it for me. I won’t let myself get trapped in this cycle. I’m going to break out of here—someday.”

Jason studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “So you’re being nice out of spite?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile faintly at his question. “Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But mostly, I’m being nice because it’s the right thing to do. And because I don’t want to become someone I hate.” She paused, her gaze steady on his. “You don’t have to trust me, Jase. But I’m not going to stop trying to help you. Not because I feel sorry for you, but because I think you’re worth it.” Y/N booped Jason’s nose making lips curve into a half-smile. “You’re very weird. But ... in a good way.” His response made her own smile grow wider. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, be a good sport and take your medicine.”

Jason’s face scrunched up in distaste as he eyed the spoonful of medicine in her hand. “But that’s too bitter. I don’t like medicine,” he complained, his bottom lip forming an adorable pout. Y/N rolled her eyes before sighing softly, “ Well who does. You know what? Fine, lemme cut you a deal. You eat this and I’ll read you a bedtime story. How does that sound?” The boy contemplated the offer for a moment before opening his mouth reluctantly, his expression shifting from defiance to resignation. Y/N didn’t spare a moment before feeding the medicine, his face contorted into a grimace but swallowed it down, nonetheless. Handing him a glass of warm milk, she added,” I added extra sugar in this. This should help.”

Jason accepted the glass of milk with a grateful nod, a welcome relief from the bitterness of the medicine. He took a sip, savoring the comforting warmth spreading through him.

“Thanks Y/N,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the rim of the glass. Y/N smiled warmly at him, her heart swelling with affection. “You're welcome, Jase. Just remember, sometimes we have to do things we don't like for our own good,” she reminded him gently.

The boy scooted closer to her, resting his head against her shoulder as he continued sipping the glass of milk she had given him. Y/N had always been there for Jason, she was the one person who would always make all his problems disappear into oblivion. Her presence was a sanctuary from the Narrows’ harsh realities, a dream he never wished to wake up from. It was probably the only time in life he felt entirely safe and loved. “Now let’s get on with that bedtime story. Yeah?” she suggested.

Jason nodded eagerly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he lied down on the bed, pulling the blanket closer to him. “Well, I don’t have a lot of kids’ storybooks lying around but I can read to you this one of my current favorites.” Jason didn’t mind, in all honestly considering his fever, he doubted he’d retain much of the story anyway, it was the soothing cadence of her voice that he craved. “What’s it called?” He asked.

“Pride and Prejudice. It’s by Jane Austen”

Jason's mouth formed an 'o' shape, unfamiliar with the title. Y/N hadn't expected him to recognize it either. Literacy rates in the Narrows were less than ideal and she didn't know anyone who willingly picked up a book, let alone a classic.

Despite his lack of familiarity with the title and the plot, he listened intently as Y/N began to read. Though some of the nuances of the story may have been lost on him, regardless he relished the opportunity to escape into this world that Y/N liked so much. He observed the small smile that graced her face when she mentioned a particular character. “Y/N?” he called out. Y/N tore her gaze from the book and met his eyes with a hum of acknowledgment. “Hmm?”

“Do you like this Mr. Darcy?”

Y/N’s expression turned pensive as she considered Jason’s question. “Well, Mr. Darcy is a complex character,” she began, her voice reflecting her fondness for the literary figure. “He may seem kind of a jerk at first, but as the story unfolds, you'll see there's more to him than meets the eye.”

Jason felt intrigued by Y/N's insights. He could sense her genuine affection for the character. He knew that Y/N didn't have a boyfriend so often he couldn't help but wonder about her preferences in men. “— I just find his character development fascinating. And of course, there's the fact that he’s rich. Like really really rich.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, “You like rich men?”

“I mean, who doesn't love financial security?” she replied with a shrug before continuing, “ I have two game plans for the future — either become rich myself or marry into wealth.”

The boy nodded, processing her words thoughtfully. “But aren't most rich men sleazeballs?” he interjected, curious about her perspective. “Well then, I guess I'll have to find someone who's at least agreeable. And when I say rich, I mean like —” she trailed off, searching for the right words considering how redundant of a topic this was for discussion with an elementary schooler.

“Mr. Darcy rich?” Jason guessed, eliciting a hearty laugh from Y/N.

“That's what I want. A huge penthouse at the top of a hotel, wearing luxurious clothes every day, receiving pretty flowers and indulging in gourmet delicacies like that wooden board thingy with different types of cheese, bread and grapes,” Y/N added, propping her hand against her chin and sighing dreamily. “Dunno what it's called but l've seen it in a magazine,” Jason remarked. He couldn't help but smile at her response, struck by her clear vision of the ideal lifestyle.

Y/N closed the book with a soft thud, placing it on the bedside table to signal the end of their reading session. “But that’s a conversation for another time. It’s late, and you should get some rest,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

Jason, who had been ready to protest, hesitated at the quiet authority in her voice. Recognizing there was no point in arguing, he gave in with a slow nod. He tugged the blankets tighter around himself, shifting to the other side of the bed as he prepared to settle in for the night.

As Y/N reached the door, Jason’s voice stopped her. “Y/N, wait—just one more thing.” She turned back to see his face peeking out from the cocoon of blankets, his expression curious. “Yes?” she asked, pausing in the doorway.

Jason hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words, before finally asking, “If a guy is rich, nice, and good-looking… would you marry him?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, a warm, genuine smile spreading across her face. “Go to sleep, Jason,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped out of the room. Her laughter lingered in the air behind her, leaving the question unanswered. Little did Jason know, as he lay there in the quiet of the night, that her response—or lack thereof—had sparked something in him. That night, he found his aspirations for the future, though he couldn’t quite put them into words just yet.

Jason Todd was no stranger to waking up in excruciating pain after a particularly grueling mission. This time was no different. As consciousness slowly returned, agony was the first thing he registered, sharp and unrelenting. The last thing he could recall was Y/N bent over him, carefully operating to remove a bullet, and the searing pain of her incisions cutting through his flesh. He guessed he must have triggered vasovagal syncope—a reflex that causes blood pressure and heart rate to plummet, leading to fainting as the body’s way of shielding itself from overwhelming stress or pain.

A small part of him felt almost insulted by it. He’d been trained to endure, to stay conscious through the worst of it. But maybe the endless sleepless nights, the relentless pursuit of his target, had finally taken their toll. Jason had left Gotham months ago with one goal: to dismantle Black Mask’s overseas drug operations. Base after base, lead after lead, he’d chased the trail for six exhausting months, only to end up back on the outskirts of Gotham.

Black Mask and his men had set a trap, one that caught Jason and his team off guard until it was almost too late. They’d used civilians as bait, forcing Jason into a corner. In the chaos, he’d managed to take down two of Black Mask’s top generals, but not without cost. A bullet had found its mark, leaving him wounded and vulnerable in the crossfire.

His eyes struggled to get into focus, blinking several times as he continued looking at the ceiling, it was a familiar one. The one at the outlaws’ base. He exhaled softly, his throat dry and aching, due to the lack of a much-needed drink. Regardless that was nothing compared to the pain coursing through his body, the sources varied, spreading like fire to his nerves. As the initial wave of pain subsided, he became more aware of his surroundings, he felt a weight on his leg. He turned his head and saw her.

Y/N L/N, in all her quiet grace, was asleep with her cheek resting gently against his thigh. Her hair, tied into a loose bun earlier, had partially come undone, strands falling softly around her face. She looked as beautiful as ever, though the faint dark circles under her eyes hinted at the sleepless nights she’d endured lately. Yet, despite the fatigue, her expression was serene, almost ethereal, radiating a sweetness that reminded Jason of something divine—like an angel, if he believed in such things. It struck him that this was the first time he’d ever seen her sleep like this, so peaceful and unguarded.

Hesitantly, he reached out, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch feather-light so as not to disturb her. He froze when she stirred slightly, but instead of waking, she nuzzled closer to his hand, her face softening further in her sleep. At that moment, Jason felt something shift inside him, a warmth spreading through his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. It was as if his heart had melted into something unrecognizable, something tender and fragile.

Jason had long since turned his back on religion. Given the life he’d lived and the things he’d done, he was certain there was a special place in hell reserved just for him. He’d never given much thought to angels or divinity, convinced he’d never know what they truly looked like. But in that moment, as he watched Y/N sleep, he felt as though he was staring at something sacred. She embodied the purity and grace of every scripture, every gospel, every story of goodness he’d ever heard. And for the first time in a long time, Jason felt something akin to hope—or maybe even redemption.

She stirred awake slowly, the sensation of a calloused hand brushing lightly against her cheek and neck pulling her from sleep. “Red?” she murmured, her voice thick with drowsiness. The sound of her voice caught Jason off guard, his breath hitching as it pulled him out of his thoughts and back into the quiet reality they shared.

“Mornin’, doll,” he greeted softly, his voice rough and scratchy but warm. She hummed in response, instinctively leaning into his touch, her face nuzzling closer to his hand. Just as she was about to drift back into sleep, the memories of everything that had happened rushed back to her, jolting her fully awake. Y/N sat up abruptly, her eyes wide with alarm, and without thinking, she threw her arms around his broad shoulders, pulling him close. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her chest rose and fell with quiet sobs, the relief she’d been holding back finally spilling over.

Jason understood that witnessing someone close suffer a severe injury like his could be profoundly unsettling for someone not accustomed to such dangers. Though taken aback, he returned her embrace, caressing her hair with a tenderness he didn't realize he possessed.

As Y/N held onto him tightly, he felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him. The pain throbbing through his body long forgotten as he continued holding her close to him. Her presence was all comfort he needed. Jason was a man of many talents unfortunately comforting people wasn’t one of them, at least so he thought. “Shh it's okay, sweetheart. I’m okay. I swear,” he murmured, rubbing small circles on her back soothingly.

Y/N sniffled against his chest, her tears dampening the fabric of his shirt. She slowly pulled away, “I was so scared.” He brushed a stray tear from the corner of her eye, his touch filled with unspoken promises and reassurance. Jason’s heart ached at the sight of Y/N’s tear-stained face, his own emotions mirroring hers. Despite his usual stoicism, he found himself struggling to find the right words to comfort her in this moment of vulnerability.

“I know angel,” he whispered softly, his voice barely above a breath. “‘m here now and I’m not going anywhere.” Yet despite her initial relief, her eyes betraying the lingering distress. He knew the storm of emotions was far from over. “Red we need to talk,” the tone of her voice spoke volumes of the impending conversation they would have about his recklessness.

Jason's heart sank at the seriousness in Y/N's tone. He knew that if he wasn’t careful with this, it could drive a rift between them and scare her off for good, something that he considered an absolute non-option. Nodding solemnly, he met her gaze,“I know,” he replied quietly. “Let's talk.”

As they settled into a tense silence, Jason braced himself for the worst. “Red, I don't think I can keep doing this. You should really hire someone more qualified as your doctor,” Y/N continued, her words filled with concern. Despite her relief at seeing him alright, she was painfully aware of the potential dangers of their situation. The possibility of a misstep, such as making an incision in the wrong place or nicking an artery, weighed heavily on her conscious. Jason felt a knot tighten in his stomach at her almost palpable distress, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for putting her in such a precarious position. “Please don't put your life in my hands like that again. I- I don't think I can take it.” Her bottom lip quivered with emotion and her eyes grew glossier.

Reaching out, he gently cupped her face with his hand. “You won't have to do something like that again,” he vowed earnestly. There was a pause after his words where neither of them knew what to say. “But I can still crash at your place, yeah?” he added playfully with a hint of hope.

Y/N's serious expression broke into a smile, “Of course.”

Their moment was interrupted by a cough, and they turned to see Roy leaning against the door with a smirk. “As much as I hate interrupting your canoodling sesh, l gotta borrow Hood for a moment. Do you mind Y/ N?”

Y/N pulled away from Jason's touch with a jerk before hastily getting up and leaving the room, her cheeks flushed with furious blush of embarrassment. “Cute,” Roy's smirk turned into a full-blown grin as he watched her walk out, then turned back to Jason, who was not amused in the slightest.

Jason shot Roy a stern look, his irritation evident. “What?” he said, his tone clipped. Roy Harper had been his ride or die for a very long time now, mostly because his plans were often high-risk high return and to be conducted by higher trained individuals with dubious moral compasses - two of them being himself and Roy. And one could say Jason trusted him with his life and had done so many times. But as of now asphyxiation seemed like a very tempting plan.

Despite wearing his trademark helmet, Jason’s sharp scowl didn’t escape Roy’s notice, but he chose to ignore it. Instead, he sat down on the bed with barely concealed mirth and curiosity in eyes, like that of a schoolgirl talking gossip with her girlfriends. “Y’know Jaybird I’m kinda sad. You got a girlfriend and such a hot one at that and didn’t tell me? And here I thought we pinkie promised to tell each other our secrets when we braided each other’s hair and painted our nails at Lian and the outlaws’ slumber party.” he teased with faux sadness.

Jason rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a smile despite himself. Roy always had a way of lightening the mood. “Just forget it,” he insisted, though his tone lacked conviction. “Y/N’s not my girlfriend. Not yet, at least,” he began, unsure of how to approach the topic. Roy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying Jason’s attempt to downplay the situation. “Uh-huh sure whatever you say buddy,” he remarked, his playful demeanor unwavering.

“You were out for a like two days, so I took the liberty to make my acquaintance with our lovely Y/N. I already know how you folks met and all. So, I’ll start asking the real questions. What’s the plan ? ” Roy asked vaguely.

“What are you talking about?” Jason replied, playing dumb. Roy leaned in closer, his usual playful grin replaced by a more serious expression. “Come on, Jay. You and I both know you don’t actually need a doctor. We’ve stitched ourselves up plenty of times, and if it’s really bad, there’s always Alfred. So, there’s only one reason you’re keeping her around. You want an excuse to keep her close without her figuring out what you’re really up to.” Jason’s carefully constructed facade didn’t last long under Roy’s sharp observation, and it wasn’t long before the truth began to show through.

“Do you think I’m agreeable?” He asked. Roy’s brows furrowed in confusion at the odd question, but he decided to play along, “Uh yeah, I guess? What’s that gotta do with this?” Jason shook his head dismissively, waving off his question. He slumped back against the headboard and sighed heavily, wincing slightly from the pain of his injury. “Look let’s just say it’s easier for me to get her to accept gifts and stuff if she thinks she saved my life. And well she did.”

Roy's confusion deepened as he tried to make sense of Jason's words. “That bullet wound wouldn't have killed you,” he pointed out, stating the obvious.

“No. But abuse would have. Starvation would have. Disease would have. Neglect would have. The Narrows would have. She didn't let it. She saved me and continued to save me again and again. For years.” Jason's response was solemn. His voice softened to a whisper as he reminisced what were probably the only good memories of his childhood.

Roy’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. “You two have history,” he stated, not bothering to wait for Jason’s confirmation before diving into his next question. “So, what is this? Some kind of childhood sweethearts thing?”

Jason shifted uncomfortably, struggling to find the right words to explain without making it sound awkward. Roy, meanwhile, held up his hand, counting on his fingers as if doing some quick math, his face scrunched in confusion. “Wait, she’s older than you, right? How does that even work?”

“Uh well. It is childhood love, just one sided and —“ Jason began, but Roy cut him off with a scandalized gasp. “Ain't no way dude ! So that's why you asked me and Kory to make sure she doesn't find out your identity. You know she'd never let you hit it if she knew you were the same snotty-nosed brat she babysat or some shit.”

Jason shot him a glare, his scowl deepening at Roy’s crude phrasing. “I’m not just ‘trying to hit it,’ Roy. I’m in love with her,” he snapped, though deep down, he knew his best friend wasn’t entirely wrong—even if he didn’t appreciate the bluntness of the delivery.

For a moment, he was speechless. In all the years he’d known Jason, love had never seemed to be a priority. Jason was always more focused on his missions, his goals, his vendettas—matters of the heart rarely, if ever, made the list. Seeing him so openly and sincerely lovesick was unexpected, to say the least.

“Dang, Jay,” Roy finally said, his tone a mix of disbelief and pride. “I always knew you’d get there someday. But man, I should’ve seen this coming. You’re absolutely down bad for her.”

Jason’s scowl deepened at Roy’s teasing, his irritation flaring. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back, his voice defensive.

“I mean, I had my suspicions ever since I heard you getting all… worked up to the sound of some girl telling you about her day. Y’know, like a few months back?” Roy said, his grin widening.

Jason’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “How did you—” he started, but Roy cut him off with a casual shrug. “You forgot to mute the comms,” he stated matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry. Kory was asleep and didn’t have her comms in. She didn’t hear a thing.”

Jason groaned, running a hand over his face. “So you’re telling me you didn’t have the decency to, I don’t know, not eavesdrop on a private moment?” he retorted, his annoyance clear.

Roy shrugged again, his expression still unapologetic. “Hey, it’s not like I was trying to snoop,” he insisted, though his tone lacked any real remorse. “I was just about to crash when I heard this cheerful voice coming through the comms, and, well… I ended up hearing the whole thing. Total accident, I swear.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, his skepticism obvious. “Sure, Roy,” he said dryly, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Because accidentally overhearing something like that is totally normal.”

Roy raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright, maybe I should’ve given you some privacy,” he admitted, though his tone was far from sincere. “But come on, Jay. If it had been a mutual thing, I would’ve backed off immediately. No questions asked—that’s private and all. But it was just you, so I figured, hey, that’s fair game.”

Jason let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head at Roy’s weak justification. “Fair game? Seriously?” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your—” He gestured vaguely toward Roy’s body, his words trailing off. “And let’s not forget, you didn’t give a rat's ass about privacy when you were fucking that model girl five feet away from me and Starfire at the iceberg lounge.”

He winced as the memory resurfaced but, in his defense, she was undeniably attractive and he had been as intoxicated as his metabolism allowed him to be. He reasoned with himself that it was simply a momentary lapse in judgment, a product of the stress and frustration from the mission. “Anyways 'nuff about that. Let's talk about Y/N.” Much to Jason's relief, Roy dismissed the topic eager to shift the conversation back to the original topic. “You're serious about her, yeah ?”

“Absolutely,” Jason replied without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute. Despite the complications of their situation, his commitment to her was unwavering.

Roy leaned forward, his expression turning more serious. “So, what do you plan to do when she finds out the truth?” he asked, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

The question gave Jason pause, forcing him to confront the reality he’d been carefully avoiding. He hesitated, his mind racing as he weighed his words. “Well, I—” he began, swallowing hard as a hint of vulnerability crept into his voice. “I’m hoping to build our relationship enough that we can work through it when the time comes.”

“So, no plan?” Roy pressed, his tone skeptical as he sought a clearer answer.

Jason’s gaze faltered for a moment, his confidence wavering. “I mean, I haven’t mapped out all the details yet,” he admitted, “but I’ve thought about it. I’ve got a few ideas.”

“Like securing yourself as her sugar daddy so she’ll be too attached to let you go?” Roy quipped, rolling his eyes as he remembered how Jason had been mysteriously draining their funds lately. But then it hit him—when he’d spoken to Y/N, she hadn’t mentioned anything about receiving gifts or money from Jason.

“Well, yes and no,” Jason admitted, his tone a mix of defensiveness and honesty. “I’ve been sending her three grand every month, and I’ve been keeping an eye on her bank account. But she hasn’t spent a single cent of it. The only money she’s used is what she won from our video game bets.”

Roy raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Huh, so she’s not after the money. That’s cool,” he said casually. Jason shot him a sharp glare, and Roy quickly cleared his throat, backtracking. “I mean, not that I ever thought she was. But if she’s not spending your money, that could mean one of three things: one, she’s just a natural saver; two, she’s saving up for something big and specific, like a one-way ticket out of Gotham; or three, she’s planning to give it all back to you.”

Jason scoffed, his voice carrying a subtle but unmistakable edge of possessiveness.

Roy’s brow furrowed, caught off guard by the tone. “Let her what? Return the money or leave?” he asked, his concern growing as he recognized something familiar in Jason’s voice—a determination he’d heard before, but this time, it lacked the usual rage and vengeance. Instead, there was a darker, more intense undercurrent.

“Both,” Jason stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Roy’s unease deepened at Jason’s unwavering declaration. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in, and a sense of dread crept over him. Please don’t let it be what I think it is, he silently prayed to whatever gods might be listening. Gathering his courage, he took a deep breath and spoke up. “Jason, I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead,” Jason replied, his expression unreadable.

“What if she rejects you?” Roy asked cautiously, his tone measured as he braced himself for Jason’s reaction. The air between them grew heavier, the tension almost palpable. Jason fell silent, his expression thoughtful as he considered the question. After a moment, he replied, “Well, I’ve got a secure penthouse. It’s furnished with everything she likes.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed, his concern deepening as he processed Jason’s words. He pressed his lips together, rubbing his forehead as a knot of unease tightened in his chest. “Is that why you’ve been blowing through all that money? To set up some kind of gilded dollhouse to keep her in, just in case she tries to leave you?”

Jason’s demeanor shifted, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face before he quickly masked it. “It’s not like that,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction. Roy’s skepticism didn’t waver, his gaze sharp and probing as he stared Jason down.

“I asked you what you’d do if Y/N doesn’t want anything to do with you, and your first thought is kidnapping her? Jason, this isn’t how any of this works!” Roy’s voice rose in disbelief, his worry spilling over before he caught himself. He glanced toward the living room, where Kory and Y/N were, and quickly lowered his tone, realizing the risk of being overheard. The depth of Jason’s attachment to Y/N was becoming alarmingly clear, and it left Roy deeply unsettled.

Jason’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening as he met Roy’s gaze. “You’re making it sound worse than it is,” he said, his voice low and defensive. “It’s not about trapping her. It’s about making sure she’s safe, that she has everything she needs. If she doesn’t want me… fine. But I’m not going to let her walk away without knowing she’s taken care of.”

Roy shook his head, his frustration evident. “Jason, you’re not hearing yourself. This isn’t about taking care of her—it’s about control. You’re so scared of losing her that you’re planning for the worst-case scenario instead of just… I don’t know, talking to her. Being honest. Letting her decide what she wants.”

Jason looked away, his shoulders tense. “You don’t understand. It’s not like I want to do it. It’s just a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t lose her, Roy. Not again.”

Roy let out a frustrated scoff, his words sharp and cutting. “You Bats and your goddamn contingencies! Listen, Jay, Y/N is a civilian—and a really good person. You don’t pull this kind of crap with people like her. Or with anyone, for that matter.” His disapproval was clear, his voice firm as he laid into Jason.

“At least she’s not a villain,” Jason shot back, his exasperation bubbling over as he tried to justify himself.

Roy’s eyes narrowed, and he jabbed a finger at Jason in warning. “Don’t bring the mother of my child into this,” he said sharply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He dropped his hand and let out a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. Roy knew all too well how stubborn Jason could be, and arguing with him often felt like talking to a brick wall. Still, he wasn’t ready to give up. “Look, if you want to win her over, start with flowers and dinners, y’know—green flag stuff,” Roy suggested, his tone softening as he tried to steer Jason toward a better approach. “The way to a woman’s heart is through genuine, romantic gestures—not through some creepy forced captivity. You read romance novels, for crying out loud. You should know this!”

“Like I said, it’s just a worst-case scenario. And yes, dinners and flowers are exactly how I plan to start,” Jason replied, his arms crossed as he spoke slowly and deliberately, as if explaining something to a child.

Roy nodded, feeling a small measure of relief at Jason’s reassurance. “Good,” he said, his tone easing slightly. “I’ll help however I can. Just don’t let those ‘worst-case scenarios’ of yours mess with your head.”

Jason gave a slight nod and hummed in acknowledgment. The two fell into a brief silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Roy understood the complexity of the situation—he couldn’t risk the safety of a civilian, and he certainly couldn’t let his best friend make a choice he’d come to regret, especially with Batman always watching closely in the background.

Despite being father and son, Batman and Red Hood’s relationship was anything but smooth. Their differing approaches to crime-fighting and their clashing ideologies often put them at odds. Roy frequently found himself stepping in as a safety net for Jason, especially when his best friend’s anger and thirst for vengeance threatened to spiral out of control. Roy knew what it meant to owe someone your life—Jason had saved him and his daughter, Lian, more times than he could count.

That’s why Roy was acutely aware of how Jason’s feelings for Y/N could further strain the already fragile relationship between him and Batman. Bruce had always been adamant about keeping civilians out of their world, especially when it came to personal relationships. But one thing was undeniable—Y/N brought a sense of joy and peace to Jason’s life that Roy hadn’t seen in years. After everything Jason had been through, he deserved that happiness.

Roy clapped his hands on his thighs and stood up, breaking the silence. “Good talk. You should get some rest now. I’ll take Y/N home,” he announced.

Jason’s head snapped up, his expression one of surprise. “What? Why?” he asked, his voice tinged with protest. “Can’t she stay a bit longer?”

“Nope,” Roy said firmly, pointing a finger at Jason. “You’ve used up your Y/N privileges for now. She hasn’t been home or gone to work since you’ve been out. If you keep her here any longer, you’re going to get her fired.”

Jason’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but he didn’t argue. He could see the exhaustion written all over Y/N’s face, and he didn’t want to push her any further. Without waiting for a response, Roy turned and walked out of the room. As he stepped into the living room, a faint smile tugged at his lips. Y/N and Kory were deep in conversation, their heads bent close together like old friends sharing secrets. The sound of their laughter filled the room, warm and genuine, and it brought a sense of comfort to Roy’s heart.

It wasn’t often that Kory found someone who treated her so naturally. Most civilians kept their distance, wary of her striking appearance and alien origins. Despite her boundless optimism, Kory often faced mistrust and hesitation from others. But Y/N didn’t seem to care about any of that. She treated Kory like anyone else, and it was clear they had hit it off.

“Having a good time, girls?” Roy asked, leaning casually against the couch.

Kory’s eyes lit up as she turned to him, her smile radiant. “Conversing with Y/N has been most delightful,” she said, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. Y/N smiled back, giving Kory’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Likewise, Kory,” she replied warmly.

“Well, hate to break up the fun, but I need to take Y/N home,” Roy announced, disrupting the cheerful mood. Kory’s smile faded slightly, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I suppose you do,” she said with a reluctant nod. It was obvious the two had hit it off, and Roy couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for cutting their conversation short.

Y/N excused herself to gather her things. “She’s nice,” Roy remarked, earning a hum of agreement from Kory. “I also approve of Jason’s choice,” she added with a small smile. When Y/N returned, ready to leave, Roy gestured toward the door. After a round of goodbyes and promises to stay in touch, they headed out of the Outlaws’ base.

The car ride was mostly quiet, though not uncomfortably so. Y/N considered asking Roy how he knew her address, since she hadn’t actually given it to him. But given his line of work, she figured it wasn’t that surprising. Still, she saw it as a chance to break the silence and decided to ask anyway. “How did you know where we’re headed?” she inquired, her tone curious.

“Hood has a file on you. I read it,” Roy replied casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Y/N’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Red had a file on her? The idea was intriguing, to say the least. She’d seen stuff like that in detective shows and movies, but experiencing it firsthand was something else entirely. “What else is in there?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

“The usual stuff. Date of birth, place of birth, height, weight, criminal record—or lack thereof—and a bunch of other details,” Roy explained, choosing his words carefully to avoid alarming her. He knew, of course, that the file was far more extensive than that. In reality, calling it a “file” was an understatement. Jason had dug deep into Y/N’s past, compiling an almost obsessive amount of information. Roy found it unsettling, even by his own standards. Jason had crossed into borderline stalker territory, and if it weren’t for the fact that he already had a 24/7 tracking device hanging around Y/N’s neck, Roy wouldn’t put it past him to install hidden cameras or something equally extreme. Thankfully, it seemed Jason hadn’t gone that far—yet.

Y/N decided not to press further and instead turned her attention to the passing scenery outside the window. The exhaustion from the past few days was catching up to her, and despite her efforts to stay awake, her eyelids grew heavy and eventually closed. Roy glanced over at her, noticing her head resting against the window as she drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy as he watched her succumb to exhaustion, her features softening in the quiet comfort of sleep.

A gentle tap on her shoulder eventually roused her. “We’re here,” Roy said, his voice low so as not to startle her. Y/N blinked awake, peering out the window to see her apartment complex. She gathered her things from the seat and reached for the door handle, ready to step out. “Y/N?” Roy called out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Yeah?” she replied, turning back to face him.

“Can I get your number?” he asked, the question coming out a bit abruptly. Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the request. Sensing her hesitation, Roy quickly clarified, “No, no—not like that. I’m not hitting on you. You’re Hood’s girl, and he’d kill me if I tried. What I meant was, before Kory and I knew about you, Jason would disappear for hours, and we’d have no idea where he was. Turns out, he was with you. So, next time he pulls a vanishing act, I can just call you and check in.”

And also so I can keep tabs on you to make sure you’re not kidnapped, he thought to himself, though he wisely kept that part to himself.

Jason’s intentions toward her were far from innocent, and Roy knew it was only a matter of time before Y/N became so deeply entangled in his world that escaping would feel impossible. She was blissfully unaware of the situation she was in, and a part of Roy hoped she’d never have to find out. That would be the best outcome for everyone involved.

“Of course. You could’ve just asked earlier,” Y/N replied with a warm smile, handing him her phone. Roy quickly saved his number in her contacts. “Hood can be… unpredictable sometimes,” he added, his tone serious. “If anything ever happens, call me.”

Y/N’s brow furrowed slightly at his words. While she trusted Hood enough to believe he wouldn’t do anything to harm her, she appreciated Roy’s concern. Living in Gotham had taught her that preparing for the worst was just part of life.

“Thank you, Roy,” she said sincerely. “I’ll keep that in mind. Just so you know, Red and I aren’t dating, though I’ll admit he’s quite the catch.”

“It’s actually the opposite,” Roy muttered with a dry chuckle, his tone laced with irony. Y/N smiled, misinterpreting his comment as a compliment rather than the subtle warning he meant it to be. “That’s sweet of you,” she said, completely unaware of the underlying meaning behind his words.

Roy frowned, realizing she hadn’t picked up on his implication. “That’s not what I—” he started, but then stopped himself. “You know what? Never mind. Stay safe, Y/N,” he said with a sigh, forcing a reassuring smile to mask his unease.

With a final nod, Y/N bid Roy farewell and headed toward her apartment. As she walked away, Roy couldn’t help but think to himself, he’s the one who caught you Y/N.

As the sun began its descent, soft golden light filtered through the kitchen window, bathing Gotham in a warm, amber glow. The sky, once a mix of vibrant blues and cloudy grays, now melted into the softer hues of pink and orange, gradually deepening into the purples of twilight. Y/N stood at the kitchen counter, preparing herself a light evening snack. It had been nearly a week and a half since she last saw Red. In that time, she’d stayed in touch with both Roy and Kory, receiving regular updates on his recovery.

The chime of the doorbell interrupted her thoughts. Y/N remembered texting Kory earlier, asking if Red could visit once he was feeling better. She hadn’t expected it to be so soon, but the idea of finally seeing him again filled her with anticipation. Quickly drying her hands on a kitchen towel, she made her way to the door, a smile spreading across her face as she imagined the familiar sight of the red helmet and leather jacket.

“Hello, Y/N,” a voice greeted as she swung the door open. But her smile faltered, and her heart sank like a stone. Standing on the threshold wasn’t the figure she’d been eagerly waiting for. Instead, it was someone from her nightmares. The excitement bubbling inside her vanished in an instant, replaced by a storm of emotions—confusion, anger, hatred, and, most of all, an overwhelming sense of dread.

Time seemed to freeze as shock and disbelief washed over her. Memories of past traumas flooded her mind, sending a cold shiver down her spine. Her eyes locked onto the metal crowbar in his hand, and the icy rage in his gaze made her heart pound with fear. She was trapped, and the realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Where did I go wrong? she thought desperately. She had done everything to ensure he’d never find her. So how had he?

“Dad,” she muttered involuntarily, the word slipping out before she could stop it. Her own voice sounded strange, distant, as if it belonged to someone else. She knew she had to act fast, her survival instincts kicking into overdrive. Despite the paralyzing fear threatening to overwhelm her, she forced herself to focus, summoning every ounce of strength and determination to find a way out of this nightmare.

With trembling hands, she took a step back and tried to slam the door shut, but he wedged the crowbar into the gap before it could close. Panic surged through her as she threw her weight against the door, pushing with all her might to force it closed. But the crowbar held firm, leaving the door stubbornly ajar.

“You ungrateful wench!” he roared from the other side, his voice dripping with venom. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?”

Desperation clawed at her chest as her mind raced for a way to escape. Then it hit her—the box Red had given her. The SOS pendant! Her hand flew to the delicate chain around her neck, fingers fumbling as she pressed the button repeatedly, her heart pounding in her ears. Please, let help come soon, she prayed silently, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she braced herself for what might come next.

Without a second thought, she sprinted toward the box, but before she could take more than a few steps, her father forced his way through the door. His hand shot out, grabbing her ankle and yanking her backward. She crashed to the floor with a painful thud, her face hitting the ground. “Let me go!” she screamed, kicking and thrashing wildly. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to break free, but her father’s grip was ironclad. His only response was a cruel twist of her ankle, sending a sharp, searing pain through her leg and drawing a cry of agony from her lips.

Despite the blinding pain, Y/N refused to give up. Fueled by adrenaline, she swung her free leg with all her strength, aiming a fierce kick at her father’s torso. The blow landed with enough force to make him stagger back, giving her a fleeting moment to act.

Seizing the opportunity, Y/N scrambled to her feet, her eyes darting around for something—anything—to defend herself. Her hand closed around the nearest object, a hatstand, and she swung it with all her might. But her hope was short-lived. He blocked the swing with his crowbar, the impact jarring her arms, and then wrenched the hatstand from her grasp, tossing it aside. Before she could react, he grabbed her by the hair and hurled her to the floor. Her back slammed against the couch, knocking the wind out of her.

“You stupid bitch,” he snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “You really thought you could run from me?” He punctuated his words with a brutal kick to her stomach, the force of it leaving her gasping for air.

“Mom’s dead because of you. Haven’t you done enough already?” Her voice trembled with raw emotion, every word heavy with years of pain and anger. After enduring so much suffering—both her own and her mother’s—at his hands, the physical pain she felt now was nothing compared to the hatred and rage burning inside her. She heard him scoff, the cold metal of the crowbar nudging her face as he leaned closer.

“Now that I think about it, you do remind me of her,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “How she used to beg me not to hurt you. To take it out on her instead of her precious little daughter. You’re just as pathetic as she was.” He sneered, his words cutting deep.

Y/N stayed silent, her mind racing. She needed to buy time, to keep him talking long enough for her to reach into the box and grab what she needed. Her heart pounded as her fingers brushed against the box Red had given her. Relief flooded through her as she pulled out the can of pepper spray, her grip steady despite the fear coursing through her veins. She aimed it at him, her expression cold and unwavering.

“Go to hell, you bastard,” she spat.

The spray hit him square in the face, and he let out a howl of pain, stumbling backward as he clawed at his eyes. Curses and threats spilled from his lips, his voice a mix of rage and agony. But before she could react, he lunged at her, crowbar raised, his movements wild and uncontrolled. Y/N knew she couldn’t dodge in time. She shut her eyes tightly, raising her arms to shield her head, bracing for the blow she was sure would come.

But it never did.

The crowbar clattered to the floor with a deafening crash, followed by a piercing scream. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and there he was—Red, perched on her father’s chest, his fists raining down blow after blow. Her father, bloodied and battered, let out a sardonic laugh despite the pain. “What’s the price for playing hero?” he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. “She offering you more than just gratitude?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Red growled, his voice low and dangerous, barely containing the fury bubbling beneath the surface. He grabbed her father’s jaw, forcing it shut with a rough grip, before delivering another punch that landed with a sickening crack. Y/N watched, a mix of shock and relief flooding her as Red continued to pummel her father, each strike precise and brutal. Blood poured from her father’s nose, pooling on the floor beneath him. With every hit, his struggles grew weaker until he was nothing more than a limp, broken figure beneath Red’s relentless assault.

In one last, desperate attempt, her father’s hand twitched toward the crowbar, his fingers brushing the metal. But before he could even lift it, Red grabbed his wrist and twisted it with a sharp, merciless snap. The sound of bone breaking echoed through the room. Something in Red seemed to shatter in that moment. Blind rage consumed him as he snatched the crowbar from the floor, his hands trembling as he stared down at the broken man beneath him. Emotions he had buried for years surged to the surface, raw and unrelenting.

“Red, stop! You’ll kill him!” Y/N cried out, rushing forward and wrapping her arms tightly around his waist to hold him back. She wasn’t entirely sure why she intervened. For years, she had dreamed of her father facing justice for everything he’d done, but the thought of Red staining his hands with blood for her sake was unbearable.

Red’s head turned slowly toward her, and he flinched at the sight of her tear-streaked face. Her eyes held a glimmer of something all too familiar to him—fear. A sharp pang of regret stabbed at his chest. What had he done? Was she afraid of him now? Did she hate him? This was the side of himself he had always hoped to keep hidden from her, the darkness he never wanted her to see. But in that moment, he realized he had failed. His rage had taken over, turning him into the very thing he despised.

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension. Red’s mind raced, a storm of guilt, shame, and self-loathing swirling inside him. He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her he was still the same person she had trusted, the one who had always tried to protect her. But the words stuck in his throat, suffocated by the weight of his own regret.

“Hood, I got the—” Roy’s voice cut through the apartment as he burst through the door, breathing heavily. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened. Without hesitation, he knelt beside Red and gently pried the crowbar from his hands. Turning to Y/N, he quickly scanned her for injuries before tapping his comm. “Star, comm in. Rendezvous at the SOS coordinates.” Within moments, Starfire arrived, her eyes immediately locking onto Y/N.

“Y/N, you’re injured!” Kory gasped, her voice filled with concern as she rushed to her side.

“Star, help Y/N. Hood, you’re coming with me,” Roy ordered, his tone firm and unyielding. Red obeyed without protest, rising to his feet and leaving the apartment without so much as a glance back. Roy sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he muttered a string of curses under his breath.

“Don’t worry about this, Y/N. We’ll handle it,” Roy assured her, gesturing toward her unconscious father sprawled on the floor. Y/N nodded slowly, the shock beginning to fade as reality set in. “Red’s going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s a tough nut—bounces back from pretty much anything,” Roy replied, though his tone lacked the confidence he wished it had. Kory helped Roy lift the unconscious man, and together they carried him out. Y/N didn’t ask what they planned to do with him, and truthfully, she didn’t care.

“Where do you keep the first aid kit?” Kory asked, her voice calm and steady.

“In the bathroom cabinet,” Y/N answered. Kory nodded and quickly retrieved the kit. She guided Y/N to the couch and knelt at her feet, carefully tending to her injuries. “Fortunately, you’re not seriously hurt,” Kory remarked, her tone carrying a note of relief. As she worked, a sense of calm began to settle over the room.

Y/N couldn’t help but feel grateful for Kory’s presence. The alien woman’s soothing demeanor and gentle hands brought a sense of comfort despite the chaos that had just unfolded. “Thank you, Kory,” Y/N said softly, a genuine smile of appreciation spreading across her face. Kory’s expression softened, her eyes lighting up with warmth at the gratitude.

“You’re very welcome,” Kory replied warmly. “Even though we’ve only just met, I’ve grown quite fond of you. Since I’ve been on a break from the Titans, I haven’t stayed in touch with many of my old friends. So, it’s nice to make new ones. We are friends, right?” she asked, her tone hopeful.

Y/N smiled warmly and reached out to take Kory’s hand. “Of course. If you’d like, we could go shopping or catch a movie sometime. You know, just girl stuff,” she suggested. Kory’s face lit up with excitement, her vibrant green eyes sparkling. “I would love nothing more,” she exclaimed, her enthusiasm contagious.

“Hey, Kory,” Y/N began after a moment, her tone shifting slightly. “Can I ask you for a favor?” Kory nodded, her attention fully on Y/N as she waited for her to continue. “Could you ask Red to come see me? It’s okay if he doesn’t want to, but I just…” Y/N trailed off, struggling to put her feelings into words. Kory’s lips pressed into a thin line as she considered the request. Usually, after violent outbursts like the one today, Red needed time and space to calm down. But maybe Y/N was exactly what he needed right now.

“I will,” Kory assured her with a soft smile.

About half an hour after Kory left, the doorbell chimed. Y/N took a deep breath, wincing slightly as her injuries made her movements a bit slower, and made her way to the door. When she opened it, she was immediately greeted by a large bouquet of roses.

“Last I checked, it wasn’t my birthday,” Y/N teased, a playful smile tugging at her lips. Even though Red’s face was hidden behind his mask, she could almost feel him smiling back.

“Well, I couldn’t show up empty-handed, could I?” he replied with a casual shrug. “And who says you need an occasion to give a girl flowers?”

“Come on in,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let him enter.

Jason stepped inside, the air between them thick with awkwardness. As he set the bouquet down on a nearby table, he could feel the anxiety gnawing at him. The memory of nearly killing her father in front of her weighed heavily on his mind, and he couldn’t shake the fear that it had changed everything between them. A part of him was terrified she’d called him here to end whatever they had.

They settled onto the couch, the silence stretching uncomfortably between them. Finally, Jason broke it. “How’s your ankle?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

“Oh, it’s almost healed,” Y/N replied, her tone light. “Who knew Kory could do a hot and cold compress with just an ice pack and her hands? Perks of having superpowers, I guess.”

“Roy still has burn marks from when she tried that on us the first time,” Jason recalled, a chuckle slipping out. But he stopped short when he noticed the concern on Y/N’s face.

“Oh, um, I see. Anyway, thanks for the flowers. They’re beautiful,” Y/N said, steering the conversation in a different direction. Jason nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he appreciated the shift in topic. “Yeah, no big deal. Thought they might brighten the place up a bit.”

“That’s really sweet of you,” Y/N replied, her tone softening. Then, her eyes flicked over him, and she tilted her head curiously. “So, what’s with the suit?” Amid all the chaos earlier, she hadn’t noticed, but now she couldn’t help but see how different he looked. Gone was his usual leather-and-armor ensemble. Instead, he wore a crisp red shirt, a perfectly tailored pinstripe suit, and a sleek black waistcoat. His signature biker helmet was replaced by a red and black mask that covered half his face, leaving his dark hair—with that striking white streak at the front—to fall casually over his forehead. Y/N couldn’t tell if the white streak was natural or dyed, but it only added to his magnetic presence.

There were attractive men, and then there was him. Y/N had never met someone whose aura was so intensely masculine and commanding. It was almost overwhelming to be near him. He looked like he’d stepped straight out of a mafia romance novel—the kind of man who could dominate a room with just a glance. Come to think of it, she vaguely remembered hearing something on the news about him being a crime lord.

“Oh, this?” Jason started, pausing briefly before clearing his throat. “I had a… meeting. Just business stuff.” His answer was vague, but Y/N’s imagination filled in the blanks effortlessly. She could picture him lounging on a luxurious black leather sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand, while some underling groveled at his feet, begging for mercy. She hummed in acknowledgment, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, is this how your thugs get to see you every day?”

“Only the high-ranking ones or the ones in really deep shit,” Jason replied with a smirk, leaning back casually.

“A life of crime suddenly seems much more enticing,” Y/N joked, her tone light but with a hint of playful envy. Red chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, angel, not everyone gets the Y/N treatment.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” she replied with a grin, standing up and heading to the kitchen. “Too much happened today. I need a drink. Can I get you anything? I have—” She opened the refrigerator, only to realize with a flush of embarrassment that her options were limited. “Water, coffee, and… oh! Tequila!” she exclaimed, pulling out a bottle with a triumphant grin and holding it up for him to see. It was cheap liquor, the kind someone of his stature probably wouldn’t even glance at, let alone drink.

“I’d drink anything you pour for me angel.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush and her stomach flutter at his words. Red wasn’t usually the flirtatious type, so she wondered if his comment was more than just a casual remark. Maybe it was genuine. Maybe this was something worth exploring. She grabbed two shot glasses and set them on the table.

“You get started. I’ll be right back,” she said with a smile before heading to the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she splashed water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror, her expression determined. “Okay, Y/N, you can do this. You’ve been dreaming about this for months. The worst he can say is no. You’re a grown woman, and you can go after what you want. You just have to try.” Her pep talk sounded a lot like Stephanie cheering her on, even though Stephanie had always been quick to encourage her to dump her past boyfriends. And, looking back, Y/N couldn’t blame her. But this was different. He was different. Before heading back, she smoothed her clothes, reapplied her lip gloss, and spritzed on some perfume.

Feeling more confident, Y/N took another deep breath and walked back to the living room. The bottle was now a quarter empty, and her glass was filled to the brim with the golden liquid. “Took you long enough,” Jason said, his gaze fixed on her, studying her intently. Y/N didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned over his shoulder, picked up his shot glass, and downed it in one swift motion without hesitation.

“I didn’t know you could handle your liquor so well,” he remarked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. He was trying to draw her into conversation, maybe to distract himself from how her perfume was clouding his senses. The longer he stared at her, the more desire crept into his veins. It didn’t help that her hair fell over her shoulder, framing her face, or that he could almost feel her breath brushing against his skin. His mind began wandering to places it definitely shouldn’t. Y/N’s laugh, soft and genuine, filled the room, and Jason felt his resolve waver. It stirred emotions he’d been fighting hard to keep buried. She set the glass down and leaned back, her arm still resting casually over his shoulder, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something more.

“Why don’t you find out?” she challenged playfully, her gaze locking with his. It’s now or never, she thought to herself. Y/N reached up, tracing the edge of his mask with her finger, watching as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “You don’t want to start something you can’t finish, angel,” he warned, leaning into her touch, trying to throw her off balance. But her reaction wasn’t what he expected.

“Well whether I finish or not depends on you. Can you make me finish ?”

That was the moment Jason’s control shattered. His attraction to her was like a moth drawn to a flame—inevitable and dangerous. His love for her, his desire for her, was a risk because he knew if he let himself go even a little, he might lose all restraint. Jason stood up, closing the distance between them until they were face to face. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering. Her eyes traveled over his figure, towering over hers. He could hear a deafening heartbeat but couldn’t tell if it was hers or his own.

“All these past months, I just have the same moments playing on repeat and you— you make it so hard.” As the words stumbled out of his mouth, he felt as if each syllable was bringing him closer to the precipice of ruining whatever fragile relationship they might have had.

“So hard to what ?” she whispered, her voice barely audible but charged with intensity.

Jason swallowed hard, his eyes locking with hers. “So hard to keep myself from you,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “Every time I'm near you, I feel like I'm losing control. And the more I try to fight it, the stronger it gets.” The confession was a cathartic release, not done out of blinded optimism but out of raw honesty begging to be acknowledged.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat. Despite the mask, she could almost see the struggle in his eyes, the vulnerability he rarely showed. She reached up, her hand gently cupping his cheek. “Maybe you don't have to fight it. Maybe I want it too,” she said, her voice soft yet still holding that lilt that so keenly resembled a siren's song reeling him closer and crumbling any walls he could’ve even thought of putting up.

Jason's plan seemed to have taken an unexpected yet much appreciated turn. From the start of his pursuit of Y/N, he had never really considered the possibility that she could be attracted to him out of her own volition, without any of his tricks or deceptions. But now he saw that this had a chance of really working out, the right way. As much as he wanted to keep her all to himself, he knew she didn't deserve to be manipulated, and he couldn't let his selfishness get the better of him.

Realization hit him like lightning. He had meticulously planned every minute detail to make their first time absolutely perfect, and he felt panic surge internally when he realized he didn't have enough time to do all of that. “Y/N, I hate to break the mood, but I need five—no, seven minutes to prepare. On the clock, I swear.”

Y/N blinked in confusion at the suddenness of the request but didn't refuse it and watched as he dashed into her room and close the door behind him. Her earlier confidence started to deflate at the awkwardness of the situation, but she couldn't help but wonder what he meant by needing “time to prepare”. It was understandable if an awkward teenager needed time to get himself together but what could a man like him possibly need to prepare for ? Left alone, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. She decided to trust him, knowing that whatever he was planning, it was likely something thoughtful. Y/N wandered over to the couch and sat down, her mind replaying their conversation and the emotions that had surfaced.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, Jason reappeared. He extended his hand towards her chivalrously and led her into the room. Y/N's earlier confusion melted away as she saw the effort he had put in. The bed was now adorned with luxurious silk sheets that looked incredibly expensive. A sweet scent wafted through the air, and she noticed scented candles on the side tables. “Didn't have enough time to get roses. Sorry about that,” he spoke, scratching his neck sheepishly, clearly nervous about her reaction.

“What are you talking about ? It's perfect Red ! How did you know I liked these scented candles ?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with appreciation.

“It reminds me of your perfume.”

Y/N's heart swelled at his thoughtfulness and effort. “You're really something, you know that ?” she said, stepping closer to him. Before he could reply, she leaned in and kissed him over his mask. His eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then he relaxed into her touch as if it were second nature.

Jason's fingers found their way into her hair, tangling in the soft strands, the scene unfolding just as it had in his imagination countless times before. The kiss, despite the mask, was electric, sending shivers down his spines. Y/N could feel his breath quicken, matching her own heartbeat's rapid pace. She was amazed at how something so simple could feel so intense. His hands roamed gently over her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her shirt as he gently laid her down against the silk sheets. He marveled at how perfectly she fit against him, how natural it felt to be this close to her.

The only light in the room came from the scented candles, leaving her to explore solely through touch and sound. She heard him remove his mask with a click and toss it aside, before diving into something more passionate, more intense. There was an edge to this kiss, a rougher, almost desperate need. Despite what how much he promised himself to be gentle with her - he needed it, the fiery desire to feel her in his arms, to hear her breathless gasps and little moans to feel like he was alive.

“God,” kiss, “you're,” kiss, “perfect—”

Jason's words tumbled out in a haze of desire. For years, he had longed for this moment. From the very first time he saw her, he had been captivated, convinced she was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. But over the past few months, his feelings had deepened far beyond a simple childhood infatuation. Y/N had become the center of his fantasies, leaving him restless and yearning for her touch on countless nights. His lips moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving a trail of marks as he went. Her soft whimpers and moans, like sweet nectar, only fueled his eagerness.

His hands roamed her body with a delicate caution, as though she were a fragile porcelain doll that might shatter at the slightest pressure. The sound of his kisses, slick and hot, deepened the flush on her skin, drawing out incoherent whines and whimpers from her lips. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the intensity between them grew.

Every touch, every sound she made, was intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He couldn’t get enough of her—the way her body arched toward his, the way her breath came in short, uneven gasps, the way her skin felt like fire beneath his fingertips. It was as if she had ignited something primal within him, something he could no longer control.

“Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with need. “I’ve wanted this for so long. You have no idea…”

His words trailed off as his mouth found her collarbone, nipping and kissing his way down to the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She gasped, her grip tightening as she clung to him. The sound of her pleasure was like music to his ears, driving him to push further, to give her more. He wanted to hear her fall apart, to know that he was the one who had unraveled her.

Her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as if she were afraid, he might disappear. “Red,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “Please…” 

That single word, dripping with longing and desperation, was all the push he needed. His hands moved swiftly, pulling her tank top over her head and tossing it aside. Her shorts followed just as quickly, discarded without a second thought. The candles around them flickered, casting a soft, warm glow across the room. It wasn’t enough light for her to see clearly, but with the enhanced abilities he had gained from the Lazarus Pit, he could see every detail of her. For a moment, he paused, his eyes drinking in the sight of her beneath him—flushed, breathless, and utterly beautiful.

But the moment didn’t last long. The fire between them was too intense, too all-consuming. He joined her on the bed, his body pressing against hers as his lips found her neck once more. His kisses trailed down further and further till he was at the valley of her breasts. Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

Then, unexpectedly, Jason hesitated.

“What happened?” she whispered, her voice tinged with confusion and desire. “Didn’t you say you wanted this for the longest time? Why are you stopping now?”

Jason shook his head before sliding down the straps of her bra and pressing kisses along her collarbone. The air seemed to leave his lungs entirely as he unhooked her bra, the reality of the moment hitting him hard. This was real. After years of longing, of imagining this very moment, it was finally happening. His hand cupped one breast while his mouth found the other, his touch both possessive and reverent.

“Fuc—,” she moaned and he huffed a chuckle, his warm breath making goosebumps erupt across her arms. She felt dizzy and elated at the same time as though she were standing at the edge of the world, gazing down at a kaleidoscope of colors swirling beneath her.

Y/N gasped sharply as his teeth grazed her sensitive nipple, a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shooting through her, sending shivers down her spine and igniting a fiery heat between her legs. He took his time, his tongue swirling and sucking, leaving broad, wet strokes that spread warmth across her skin. Jason’s fingers lingered at the waistband of her underwear, teasing for a moment before slipping beneath. Her back arched instinctively as his fingers brushed against her, and she squirmed under the light pressure he applied to her clit. He traced her folds, teasing her gently before circling her throbbing clit again and again, each touch deliberate and maddening.

Before she could muster a coherent sentence, he slid a finger inside her, making her back arch. He was fascinated by how responsive she was, every touch eliciting a reaction. He curled his finger inside her, as if searching for something specific, and when her legs began to tremble and her eyes water, he knew he’d found it. A smirk tugged at his lips as he added a second finger, his movements alternating between slow and deliberate and fast and relentless, driving her closer to the edge.

It had been months since she’d been with anyone, and her body reacted intensely, as if rediscovering pleasure for the first time. As if two fingers weren’t enough, he added a third, pumping into her with a rhythm that felt almost punishing, determined to stretch her to her limit. His lips crashed into hers, swallowing her moans and cries as he quickened his pace. “ S'too much,” she managed to gasp between kisses.

Jason chuckled darkly, clearly amused. “Angel, trust me, you wouldn't be able to take me if I didn’t stretch you out first.”

Y/N’s face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and defiance. “Excuse me? I’m not a virgin, nor am I a prude. I’ve had boyfriends before. You’re nothing I can’t handle,” she shot back, though her words felt more like an attempt to convince herself than him. Sure, she’d had boyfriends, but none of them could even come close to Jason. She was certain he was twice her size, if not more, and the thought alone sent a thrill of anticipation—and a hint of nervousness—coursing through her.

Jason raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening as he leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “Oh, really?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful challenge. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

His fingers continued their relentless rhythm, curling and stretching her in ways that made her toes curl and her breath hitch. She tried to hold back the sounds threatening to escape her lips, but it was impossible. Every touch, every movement, was designed to unravel her completely. Her hands gripped the sheets tightly, her knuckles turning white as she tried to anchor herself against the overwhelming sensations.

“You’re so tight, angel,” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “Even like this, you’re squeezing me so damn hard. Imagine how it’ll feel when it’s me inside you.”

The words sent a fresh wave of heat flooding through her, and she couldn’t help but whimper in response. Her mind was a haze of pleasure, her body trembling under his skilled touch and tears flowing freely. She wanted to fire back with a snarky remark, to prove she could keep up with his teasing, but all that came out was a breathless moan. 

“Red—” she gasped, her voice cracking as her hips instinctively rocked against his hand. “I—I can’t—”

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice firm yet tender. “Look at me. You’re doing so well, darling. S'good for me.” She forced her eyes open, struggling to maintain his gaze. Even in the dim light, his eyes stood out vividly, glowing faintly.

“Your eyes… they’re green, like emeralds,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He brought her knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft, grateful kiss to them, as if silently thanking her for the compliment. His free hand intertwined with hers, holding her steady as his fingers worked her with precision, hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars. Her legs shook, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as the pressure built to an unbearable peak.

And then, with a sharp cry, she shattered. Her body convulsed as the wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her trembling and breathless. Jason didn’t let up, his fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing out her orgasm until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath him. 

When he finally withdrew his hand, she collapsed back onto the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath. Just as she thought she might have a moment to recover, Jason’s mouth descended to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Still think you can handle me, angel?” he teased, his voice low and rough with desire. Y/N groaned, her body still buzzing from the intensity of her release. She was too exhausted to argue, too overwhelmed by everything he had just put her through.

Y/N had always known Red had an appetite, but nothing could have prepared her for the way he devoured her now. His lips and tongue moved with a hunger that left her breathless, her slick coating his mouth as he feasted on her. The obscene sounds of his lips and tongue against her sent shivers through her, the heat of his spit only adding to the wet, aching pressure building inside her.

“Nghmm ,” he moaned against her, his green eyes glazed and hazy as he looked up at her, utterly lost in the taste of her. “You taste heavenly,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. The bridge of his nose brushed against her swollen clit, and he took the opportunity to drag his lips across her folds, teasing her sensitive nerves until she was writhing beneath him. Her back arched off the bed, her mind spinning as she struggled to make sense of where she start and he ended. 

Her hands tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Jason’s tongue worked relentlessly, swirling around her clit before dipping lower to taste her deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough. Every flick, every suck, every groan he let out against her sent her spiraling further into ecstasy. She was a mess of gasps and whimpers, her body trembling under his relentless attention.

“Red please please —,” she choked out, her voice breaking as her hips bucked against his mouth. “I—I can’t—it’s too much—”

But he didn’t stop. If anything, he only intensified his efforts, his hands gripping her thighs to hold her in place as he devoured her like a man starved. The wet, sinful sounds of his mouth on her filled the room, mingling with her desperate moans. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter inside her, threatening to snap at any moment.

“That’s it, angel,” he growled, his voice low and rough, the vibrations sending shivers through her very core. “Let go. I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

His words were the final push she needed. With a sharp, breathless cry, her body shuddered, her release crashing over her in a blinding, overwhelming wave of pleasure. Jason didn’t stop, his tongue working relentlessly as she rode out the intensity, her legs trembling uncontrollably beneath him. He savored every drop, drinking her in as though she were the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted, until she was left a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked up at her with a wicked grin, his lips glistening and his eyes dark with satisfaction. “I think that’s plenty of warm-up before the main course,” he teased, his voice dripping with mischief. “Or… do you want more?” 

Y/N’s breath hitched at his words, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her release. She wanted to respond, to fire back with something clever, but her mind was too foggy, her thoughts too scattered. All she could manage was a weak, pleading whimper as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and glazed with desire.

Jason let out a dark chuckle, clearly reveling in the effect he had on her. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh before slowly trailing his lips upward, leaving a searing path of heat in his wake. His hands moved up her body, his touch firm yet tender, as though he were committing every curve, every inch of her to memory.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, “Completely undone, completely mine.”

His words sent a fresh wave of shivers cascading down her spine, and she instinctively arched into his touch, craving more. Despite being exhausted and oversensitive, the raw hunger in his eyes reignited a deep, primal need within her. She wanted him—every part of him.

“Not fair,” she eyes almost watered, her voice trembling.

“What’s not fair?” he asked curiously.  

“You’re still fully clothed,” she breathed, her hands weakly reaching for him. “And I… I want you. I want to touch you, to feel you—not just through fabric.”

Jason’s smirk deepened at her words, a flicker of surprise and satisfaction crossing his features. His eyes, dark and intense, glinted with a mix of amusement and raw desire as he watched her. It was almost surreal to him—the way she wanted him, the way she looked at him like he was something worth craving. He’d spent so long believing he wasn’t the kind of man someone like her could want, not in this way. And yet, here she was, her words and touch unraveling him. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d somehow died and stumbled into some kind of heaven. “Well, angel,” he drawled, his voice low and teasing, “if you wanted me out of these clothes, all you had to do was ask.”

Before she could respond, he leaned back, sitting up slightly to unbutton his shirt and waistcoat. The fabric fell to the floor with a soft thud, though Y/N could barely make out the details in the dim lighting, silently cursing the lack of visibility. “Better?” he asked, his voice laced with mock innocence as his fingers moved to the buckle of his belt. Y/N nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “Much,” she managed to whisper, her eyes glued to him as he finished undressing.

“Now,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “you can touch me all you want.”

She didn’t hesitate. Her hands immediately found their way to his chest, her fingers exploring the hard planes of his muscles, tracing the ridges of his scars, and following the faint trail of hair that led down his abdomen. She marveled at the way his breath hitched when her nails lightly grazed his skin, the way his muscles tensed under her touch. It was intoxicating, knowing she could unravel him just as much as he unraveled her.

Feeling a surge of boldness, her hands trailed lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his pants. She glanced up at him, his brilliant green eyes darkening with desire, his breathing growing heavier. Her fingers dipped further, brushing against the hard outline of his arousal. Her eyes widened in surprise and curiosity.

“Is that…?” she whispered, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

Jason let out a low, throaty chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah, angel,” he said, his voice rough and dripping with desire. “That’s all for you.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, but she didn’t pull her hand away. Instead, she let her fingers curl around him, feeling the heat and hardness through the fabric of his pants. Jason’s breath hitched, his hips instinctively pressing into her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back slightly as her hand began to explore him more boldly, “You’re gonna be the death of me angel.”

She smirked, emboldened by the way he reacted to her touch. With her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she pulled down his boxers. Jason’s hands gripped the sheets tightly, his muscles tensing as she finally freed him from the confines of his clothing.

Her eyes widened as she took him in, her breath catching in her throat. He was… impressive, to say the least. Her hand wrapped around him tentatively, her touch light but deliberate. Jason let out a sharp hiss, his hips jerking slightly as her fingers brushed against her tip.

“Hold on…” she withdrew her hand, her voice shaky. “Jus’ wait a minute.”

Jason froze, his eyes flashing with uncertainty.

“You… don’t want this?” he asked, his voice low but tinged with vulnerability.

You don't want me?

The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, and it pained her how quickly he assumed he was undesirable. As if he could ever be anything less than everything she wanted.

“No!” she blurted out, her fingers gently hooking under his chin to make him look at her. “I just… need a second to recalibrate because… holy shit… you’re so big—”

He burst into laughter, his boyish face lighting up with joy. “That’s all? Aw, angel…” he cooed, flicking her nose playfully with his index finger. “Swear, you can be so adorable sometimes…” he teased, his voice dripping with affection.

She huffed, the tips of her ears turning red, but the tension between them had softened, replaced by a warmth that made her heart swell. Jason’s laughter was infectious, and despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, his earlier worry completely erased.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured against her mouth, his tone reassuring. “We’ll take it slow. I’ve got you, angel.”

His words eased her lingering nerves, replacing them with a warm, comforting reassurance. She took a deep breath, centering herself before gathering her courage. Her thumb brushed over the wet tip of his cock, feeling the soft, velvety skin twitch under her touch. His length curved slightly upward, and she couldn’t help but squirm at the thought of how perfectly it would hit all the right spots inside her.

“Nghh—fuck,” he groaned, his voice strained but encouraging. “Didn’t expect you to feel this good…”

She smirked, a playful glint in her eyes. “I know something that’d feel even better,” she said, her voice low and teasing. Slowly, she dipped her head down, pressing a soft kiss to the tip before letting her hands explore the shape of him, familiarizing herself with every inch. Her smirk widened when she felt the prominent vein pulsing beneath her touch. She ran her tongue along it, and the reaction was immediate—his head fell back, a loud, unrestrained moan escaping his lips.

The sound sent a thrill through her, hotter and more intoxicating than anything she’d ever heard. Taking it as encouragement, she wrapped her lips around him, stretching them as wide as she could to accommodate his size. He barely fit in her mouth, and the thought of how he’d feel elsewhere made her pulse quicken. There was no way something that big would fit inside her—but the idea of trying sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

Jason’s hands tangled in her hair, not pushing or forcing, but gently guiding as she took him deeper. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hips twitching slightly as he fought to keep himself still. “Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice rough and strained. “You’re—god, you’re amazing.”

She hummed softly in response, the vibration drawing another sharp moan from him. Her tongue swirled around him, exploring every inch as her lips moved up and down his length. She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, the taste of him intoxicating as she lost herself in the rhythm. 

“Fuck. I’m close. Y/N, I—,” he managed, his voice breaking.

“Come for me Red.”

Jason’s grip tightened in her hair, his breath catching as her words sent him spiraling over the edge. With a deep, guttural groan, he fell apart, his release hitting him with such intensity that it left him trembling. Y/N stayed with him, her lips and tongue moving gently to coax out every last wave of his pleasure until he was completely spent, his body relaxing and his breaths coming in heavy, uneven gasps.

When she finally pulled back, she looked up at him, her lips glistening and her eyes dark with a satisfied gleam. Jason’s hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing across her bottom lip, ensuring not a single drop of his release went to waste. He gazed down at her, his expression a mix of awe and adoration.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he murmured, his voice still rough but laced with tenderness. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, angel.” Y/N smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “You’re not so bad yourself, Red,” she teased, her voice warm and playful.

Y/N's world suddenly tilted as Jason hooked her ankle and draped it over his shoulder, positioning himself firmly between her legs. He pressed a series of soft, lingering kisses along her calf, each one sending a shiver through her body. Her breath hitched as he aligned himself with her wet entrance, his eyes dark and intense as they met hers.

“You ready, baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky, laced with both desire and concern.

Y/N nodded, her heart pounding in anticipation. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I’m ready.”

With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed into her, his eyes never leaving hers as he gave her time to adjust. Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt him stretch her, fill her completely. It was overwhelming, almost too much, but in the best way possible. A cry escaped her lips as she struggled to take all of him, her body trembling under the intensity. He had done his best to prepare her, to be as gentle as he could, but the sheer size of him was still a challenge.

“Relax, darling,” he murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. “Stop squirming, and it’ll be easier for you, I promise.” He pressed a tender kiss to the tears streaming down her face, a small smile tugging at his lips. He’d noticed it before—how her eyes tended to water when she was particularly aroused. Maybe it was the darker, more sadistic part of him that found it so captivating. He couldn’t help but revel in the knowledge that, from now on, he would be the only one to see her like this—so vulnerable, so undone, so completely his.

She nodded, focusing on his voice, on the way his hands stroked her sides, grounding her. Slowly, the initial discomfort began to fade, replaced by a deep, throbbing pleasure that made her toes curl. Her hips shifted instinctively, seeking more of him, and Jason groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder.

His pace quickened as he felt her body finally begin to adjust to his size, the initial tension giving way to a rhythm that was both punishing and intoxicating. “Mine. Mine. Mine,” he chanted, each word a declaration, a promise, punctuated by a deep, relentless thrust that drove the air from her lungs. Y/N clung to him, her fingers digging into his back as he rocked into her, the pleasure unfurling down her spine like a live wire, setting every nerve ablaze.

“Fuck… Red…” she gasped, her voice trembling, barely audible over the sound of their ragged breaths and the slick, rhythmic slap of skin against skin.

In that moment, there was nothing else in her mind but him. The sound of his low, guttural groans, rough and primal, filled the room, mingling with her own desperate cries. She could see the way his brow furrowed in ecstasy, his face a portrait of raw, unbridled pleasure. His swollen lips hovered inches from hers, close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath, yet he held back, as if savoring the tension, the anticipation. Even the dim, flickering light of the candles seemed to wrap around them, casting a warm, golden glow that cocooned them in their own private world—a world where nothing else mattered, where they were safe from the chaos and horrors that waited outside.

“You’re mine, understood?” he growled, his voice rough and commanding, cutting through the haze of pleasure that clouded her mind.

Y/N barely registered his words, let alone processed them. The onslaught of sensation was too much, too overwhelming, leaving her unable to form a coherent thought, let alone respond. Her body was a live wire, every nerve alight with pleasure, her mind blank except for the feel of him, the sound of him, the sight of him. But then, suddenly, he stopped, and the sharp sting of a light slap on her cheek brought her back to the present. Jason grabbed her face, his large hands squishing her cheeks together as he forced her to look at him, his eyes dark and intense, burning with a possessiveness that sent a shiver down her spine.

“I said,” he continued, thrusting into her again with a pace that was both punishing and exhilarating, “you’re. fucking. mine. Is that clear?”

His words were firm, demanding, and laced with a possessiveness that left no room for argument. Y/N nodded as best as she could, her breath hitching as she managed to choke out a weak, “Yes. I'm yours I promise.”

Jason’s expression softened slightly, though his movements remained relentless, each thrust driving his point home. “Good,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, almost tender growl. “Because I’m not letting you go, angel. Not now, not ever.” His words were a vow, a promise that wrapped around her as tightly as his arms did. And as he continued to move inside her, his pace unyielding, Y/N felt a strange sense of comfort in his possessiveness. It wasn’t just about control or dominance—it was about belonging. In his arms, under his touch, she felt wanted, needed, cherished in a way she never had before. The world outside might be cruel and unforgiving, but here, with him, she was safe. She was his, and he was hers, and nothing else mattered.

As the pleasure built to a crescendo, Y/N’s cries grew louder, her body trembling as she teetered on the edge. Jason’s hands moved to her hips, gripping her tightly as he drove into her with increasing urgency, his own release drawing near.

“Come for me, angel,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

Her body trembled as she came undone, a creamy layer of her release coating the base of his cock, a sight that sent a surge of satisfaction through him. Jason wasn’t far behind, his own climax hitting him with such force that it left him shaking. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he rode out the waves of his release, his grip on her tightening as if he never wanted to let go.

When the intensity finally subsided, they both lay there, their bodies still intertwined, their breaths slowly returning to normal. Jason pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. Y/N’s body felt boneless, every muscle relaxed and humming with the lingering echoes of pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” he said, his voice filled with awe and affection. “Absolutely incredible.” Y/N smiled weakly, her body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Y’know, I regret not making you mine sooner,” Jason continued, holding her close, his arms wrapping around her like a shield.

“You know you haven’t even asked me yet,” Y/N reminded him, her voice soft but teasing.

“What is it that you want us to be, Y/N?” he asked, his tone earnest. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be, as long as you’re mine. If you want a friend with benefits, a boyfriend, or even a husband—it can all be arranged. Just say the word.”

“I like the second option for now. But you know,” she said, her voice light but laced with curiosity, “for someone who’s willing to marry me, you haven’t even told me your name or shown me your face.” Her fingers trailing along his face, relying solely on touch to piece together his features. From what she could feel, he had a chiseled jawline, high cheekbones, and a straight nose. But one feature stood out more than the others—a scar. It started under his left eye, trailing down to the bridge of his nose, with a jagged curve at the center that almost formed a malformed J.

Jason hesitated, his body tensing slightly. “I will, darling. It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just—” He paused, his voice faltering, the weight of his secrets pressing down on him. Y/N cut him off before he could finish, not wanting to make him feel worse. She hadn’t meant it as a jab to hurt him—it was more of a lighthearted tease. She knew he had his own struggles, his own reasons for keeping parts of himself hidden, and she understood that.

“I know, don’t worry,” she said softly, her hand resting on his cheek. “Take your time, Red. But I have a request.”

“Anything,” he said without hesitation.

“Can you tell me the first letter of your name?” she asked. She knew he wasn’t ready to reveal his full name yet, but she hoped for something more personal than just “Red.” Jason paused, considering her request, then nodded. “Give me your palm.” She extended her hand toward him, and with his index finger, he traced the first letter of his name on her palm.

“Your name starts with a J?” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s nice because it’s a cool nickname on its own. Right, Jay?”

His heart leapt at the way she said it—soft, playful, perfect. But there was also a pang of guilt. He hated that she had to settle for fragments of him, for pieces instead of the whole. Still, he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at her acceptance, at the way she made even the smallest part of him feel special.

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a deep, lingering kiss that left her breathless. When he finally pulled back, his voice was low, tinged with a hint of regret. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured, his thumb brushing her cheek. “And one day, I’ll give you more. I promise.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the late evening sky was shrouded in dark clouds, a familiar sight in Gotham. Among the gloom, the Bat Signal shone brightly, cutting through the haze like a beacon. Her chest tightened as she stared at it, a knot of worry forming in her stomach. “Does that mean you have to go?” she asked, her voice soft as she pointed toward the signal. She knew all too well the weight of his responsibilities to the city.

Jason followed her gaze, his expression softening as he looked back at her. “No,” he said firmly, his hand reaching out to gently turn her face back toward him. “I asked Star and Arsenal to cover for me tonight. Tonight, I’m not Red Hood. Tonight, I’m just yours.”

Her eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and relief washing over her. “Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Really,” he confirmed, his lips curving into a small, tender smile. “Tonight, I just want to spend my time with my precious girl.”

Her heart swelled at his words, the tension in her chest easing as she leaned into him. For once, the city could wait. Tonight, he was hers, and that was all that mattered.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Y/N stirred awake, her hand instinctively reaching out for Jason, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Her heart sank, a pang of panic tightening her chest as she sat up, clutching the sheets to her.

He left. The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. After everything they’d shared, after the way he’d held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, he’d just… left. Her mind raced, doubts creeping in. Had she been too much? Had he regretted it? She swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump forming in her throat.

But then, a faint aroma wafted into the room—something savory, something warm. Her nose twitched, and she froze, listening. The sound of faint clattering came from the kitchen, followed by the low hum of someone moving around. Her heart leapt, hope flickering back to life.

Before she could overthink it, the bedroom door creaked open, and there he was—Red, rather, Jay standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands. On it was a plate of perfectly cooked eggs, toast, and a steaming cup of coffee. His hair was slightly messy, and he was wearing nothing but his mask and the same pair of pants as yesterday that slung low on his hips. The sight of him, so casual and domestic, made her breath catch.

“Morning, angel,” he said, his voice soft but laced with that familiar roughness. “Thought you might be hungry.” Y/N stared at him, her emotions swirling—relief, joy, and a hint of embarrassment for jumping to conclusions. “You… you didn’t leave,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head in confusion as he stepped closer, setting the tray down on the bedside table.

“Leave?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “Why the hell would I leave?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You thought I’d just take off after last night?”

She looked down, her cheeks flushing. “I woke up, and you weren’t here, and I just… I thought maybe you regretted it or—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, his voice firm but gentle as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. “Listen to me. I don’t regret a damn thing. Not last night, not you, not us. I just wanted to make you breakfast. That’s all.”

Her eyes searched him, looking for any hint of doubt, but all she found was sincerity—and something deeper, something that made her heart skip a beat. “Really?” she asked, her voice small.

“Really,” he said, his thumb brushing her cheek. “You’re stuck with me, Y/N. Whether you like it or not.” A smile broke across her face, the tension in her chest melting away. “I like it,” she admitted, her voice soft but sure.

Jason reached out and patted her head, the simple gesture making her stomach flip. “Good,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “Now eat up. You spent a lot of energy yesterday. You need it.”

She laughed, the sound light and carefree, as she reached for the tray. “That I do. God, I’m starving. How’d you know strawberry pancakes were my favorite?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she took in the stack of fluffy pancakes topped with fresh strawberries.

Jason hesitated for a moment, his mind flashing back to a memory from years ago—back when they were kids, and she’d mentioned it in passing. But he couldn’t admit that. Not yet. Instead, he shrugged, his tone casual. “It’s the only flavor of pancake mix I’ve seen in your pantry in months of knowing you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “So you’ve been snooping in my pantry, huh?”

He smirked back, leaning against the headboard. “Call it reconnaissance. Gotta know what I’m working with if I’m gonna keep you fed.”

She laughed again, the sound filling the room with warmth, and took a bite of the pancakes. “Well, consider me impressed. These are amazing.”

Jason watched her eat, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. For a moment, everything felt perfect—the soft morning light, the easy banter, the way she looked at him like he’d hung the stars just for her. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be.

Jason’s smile faded slightly as he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, angel,” he began, his voice tinged with regret, “I’ve got some… business to take care of. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

Y/N looked up from her pancakes, her expression softening. “Business, huh?” she said, her tone teasing but understanding. “Let me guess—something involving a certain red helmet?”

He smirked, though there was a flicker of something darker in his tone. “Something like that,” he said vaguely, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead through his mask. “Don’t wait up. I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, though a shadow of worry flickered in her eyes. “Be careful, Jay.”

“Always,” he replied, his voice steady as he grabbed his jacket and helmet from the chair by the door. With one last lingering glance at her, he got dressed and slipped out, the door closing softly behind him.

The warehouse was a tomb of shadows, its high ceilings swallowed by darkness and its walls stained with the grime of decades. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and sweat, the only sound the faint drip of crimson hitting the cracked concrete floor. A single flickering bulb hung from the ceiling, casting jagged shadows that danced like specters across the walls.

In the center of the room, Jason stood like a wraith, his red helmet gleaming under the sickly light. The man tied to the chair in front of him was barely recognizable—his face a grotesque mask of bruises and blood, his body trembling as he struggled against the ropes that bound him. His breaths came in ragged, wet gasps, each one a desperate plea for mercy that would never come.

Jason tilted his head, the movement unnervingly mechanical, as he circled the chair like a predator sizing up its prey. The man flinched with every step, his swollen eyes darting wildly, trying to follow Jason’s movements.

“You know,” Jason began, his voice low and distorted by the helmet’s modulator, “I’ve been looking forward to this. You’ve been on my mind ever since for a long long time.” He stopped in front of the man, leaning down so their faces were inches apart. “Stealing money from your own daughter and then coming back to hurt her ? No wonder not even Black Mask wanted you as one of his petty thugs.”

The man choked out a sob, his words slurred and broken. “I-I didn’t know… I didn’t know she was yours! I swear, I didn’t know!”

Jason straightened, his laugh a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the warehouse. “Mine? Now that's one thing you've said right. She's mine and you hurt her. Even as my future father-in-law, it's not something I can let go you know. She doesn't want to see you anymore you know.” His voice dropped to a whisper, venomous and deadly. “So you should disappear.”

He reached into his belt and pulled out a knife, the blade catching the light as he turned it over in his hand. The man’s eyes widened in terror, his breathing quickening as he struggled against the ropes. “P-please… I’m sorry! I’ll never go near her again, I swear! Just let me go!”

Jason tilted his head again, the motion almost playful, but there was nothing playful about the way he stepped closer, the knife glinting in his hand. “Sorry?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “You think sorry fixes this? You think you can just say a magic word and make it all go away?” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. “This isn’t about forgiveness. This is about consequences.”

The man screamed as Jason brought the knife down, the blade slicing through flesh with surgical precision. Blood pooled on the floor, the metallic scent filling the air as Jason worked methodically, his movements calm and deliberate. He didn’t rush. He didn’t lose control. This wasn’t rage—it was calculation. Every cut, every slice, was a message. A reminder.

“You see,” Jason said, his voice eerily calm as he wiped the blade on the man’s shirt, “I don’t just kill people. I make sure they understand why they’re dying. And you?” He leaned in close again, his voice a whisper. “You’re dying because you thought you could hurt her and walk away. But here’s the thing about me—I don’t let things go.”

“Oh, and since you’re about to die,” Jason added, his tone almost casual, “I’ll let you know who killed you.” He pressed the back of his helmet, and it opened with a hiss, revealing his face. He looked directly at the man, the one he’d hated for so, so long.

“Do you remember who I am?” he asked, his voice cold and steady, his green eyes locking onto the man’s terrified gaze.

It was just another one of those days when Jason didn’t feel like going home. Instead, he found himself lounging in his second home—Y/N’s house—flipping through one of the library books she’d borrowed. The quiet comfort of her room was a refuge, a place where he could breathe without the weight of his own life pressing down on him.

The door creaked open, and Y/N slipped inside, closing it softly behind her. “Jase, come here,” she said, her voice low but excited, her eyes sparkling with a secret she couldn’t wait to share. Jason’s curiosity was instantly piqued, especially when he noticed the small box clutched in her hands.

“What is it?” he asked, setting the book aside and sitting up.

Y/N’s smile was radiant as she opened the box, revealing a neat stack of dollar bills. “I finally saved up enough to get that pink flip phone I told you about!” she announced, her voice bubbling with pride.

Jason’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s amazing! Once you have a phone, I can call you from my mom’s!” he exclaimed, his excitement matching hers. The two of them broke into an impromptu celebratory dance, their laughter filling the room. For a moment, everything was perfect.

But the moment shattered as the front door slammed open, the sound echoing through the house like a gunshot. Y/N’s face fell, her joy evaporating in an instant. Her father was home.

Jason had heard enough stories to know what that meant. Y/N’s father was a cruel, useless man—a gambler, a drunk, and a bully who took his frustrations out on his wife and daughter. He didn’t contribute a dime to the household; instead, he drained what little they had. And when he was in one of his moods, no one was safe.

“Jason, get under the bed,” Y/N whispered urgently, her voice trembling. “Do not—and I mean do not—come out. Okay?” Before Jason could protest, she shoved the box of money into his hands and pushed him toward the bed. He scrambled underneath, his heart pounding as he watched Y/N’s feet shuffle nervously on the floor above him.

The door to her room burst open, slamming against the wall with a force that made Jason flinch. Y/N’s mother was clinging to her husband, her voice pleading. “I already gave you everything I have! She’s just a kid—she has nothing, I swear!”

“A kid with a job,” her father snarled, his voice dripping with venom. “Do you think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t know?”

There was a sickening crack as he backhanded Y/N’s mother, sending her stumbling into the room. She collapsed near Y/N, who immediately dropped to her knees beside her. “Mom!” Y/N cried, her voice breaking as she tried to shield her mother. Y/N’s father loomed over them, his face twisted with rage. “What do you want?” Y/N demanded, her voice shaking but defiant as she glared up at him, her eyes burning with hatred.

“You ungrateful brat!” he roared, his hand raised to strike again. “How dare you talk back to me?”

Under the bed, Jason clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his chest constricted with a mix of rage and helplessness. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to burst out, to shield Y/N and her mother from the monster towering over them. But he couldn’t. Not yet. All he could do was lie there, frozen, as the sounds of their suffering filled the room. Each cry, each plea, etched itself into his mind.

“You think you can hide money from me?” her father snarled, his voice booming like thunder. “Where is it? Where’s the money you’ve been saving, you little thief?”

“I don’t have any money!” Y/N shot back, her voice trembling but defiant. “I swear, I don’t!”

The sharp crack of a slap echoed through the room, followed by Y/N’s cry of pain. Jason’s stomach twisted, his breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as he fought to stay silent. He could hear Y/N’s mother pleading, her voice breaking as she tried to shield her daughter.

“Please, stop! She’s just a child! Take whatever you want, just leave her alone!”

“Shut up!” her father roared, his voice dripping with venom. There was another sickening thud as he shoved Y/N’s mother aside, sending her crashing into the wall. “Both of you are useless! Do you know how much I’ve sacrificed for this family? And this is how you repay me? By hiding money from me?”

Y/N’s mother continued to beg, her voice desperate and broken, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Jason heard every slap, every kick, every cruel word that followed. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. He could hear Y/N’s quiet sobs, the sound cutting through him like a knife, tearing at his heart in a way he’d never felt before.

“Now,” her father sneered, his voice dripping with malice, “will you give me the money, or do you want me to move onto the little brat you’re hiding under your bed?” He yanked Y/N’s head up by her hair, forcing her to look at him. Despite her pain, Y/N grabbed his ankle, her voice trembling but desperate. “Please, not him. I’m begging you. I’ll give you everything. Just don’t hurt him, please.”

She crawled to the side of her bed, her movements slow and pained, and extended her hand toward Jason, who lay under the bed clutching the box of money like his life depended on it. Jason shook his head vehemently, his eyes pleading with her not to give in. He’d rather take the beatings himself than hand over the money she’d worked so hard to save. But Y/N, her face streaked with tears, whispered a broken, “Please,” and he had no choice but to relent.

She gave Jason a small, pained smile as she took the box from him and turned to her father. “That’s all I have. Take it.”

Her father snatched the box, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “About damn time,” he spat before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The house fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the soft cries of Y/N and her mother.

Jason waited a few moments, his ears straining for any sign that her father might return, before carefully sliding out from under the bed. Y/N was sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her face buried in her hands. Her mother was beside her, gently stroking her hair, her own face streaked with tears. Jason hesitated, unsure if he should intrude, but Y/N looked up and saw him, her eyes red and swollen.

“Jase…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. He crossed the room in two strides, dropping to his knees beside her. “I’m here,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here.”

Y/N leaned into him, her small frame shaking as she cried. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to make it better, so he just held her, letting her know she wasn’t alone.

Her mother watched them, her expression a mix of sorrow and gratitude. “Thank you, Jason,” she said quietly. “For being there for her.” Jason nodded, his jaw tightening. He didn’t trust himself to speak. All he could think about was how much he hated Y/N’s father, how much he wanted to make him pay for what he’d done. But for now, all he could do was be there for her.

As the minutes passed, Y/N’s sobs gradually quieted, and she pulled away from Jason, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Don’t apologize,” Jason said firmly, his hands gripping her shoulders as he looked her straight in the eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong. He’s the one who should be sorry. Not you. Never you.”

Y/N nodded, but her gaze was distant, as if her mind had drifted somewhere far away, somewhere safer. Jason’s chest ached at the sight. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from all the pain in the world, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet. After all, what could a child do against a grown man like him? The thought burned in his chest, a bitter reminder of his own helplessness.

“One day,” he said, his voice low but fierce, filled with a determination that belied his age, “I’ll grow up into a big, strong man, and I’m gonna make sure no one can ever hurt you again. I promise.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his, and for the first time that night, a small, fragile smile tugged at her lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. “I know you will, Jase,” she said softly, her voice carrying a quiet faith that made his heart swell. “I know.”

And in that moment, Jason made a silent vow. No matter what it took, no matter how far he had to go, he would keep that promise. For her, he’d do anything. For her, he’d become someone strong enough to stand between her and the world. For her, he’d make sure she never had to cry like this again.

The man’s bloodshot eyes widened as he stared at Jason’s face. The bruises and scars couldn’t hide the boy he once knew—the boy who had cowered under the bed, powerless to stop him. “You…” he croaked, his voice trembling with disbelief. “You’re that kid… the one who Y/N used to bring home…”

Jason’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “That’s right,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m the kid you thought you could push around. The kid you thought would never fight back.” He leaned in closer, his green eyes blazing with fury. “But guess what? I’m not a kid anymore.”

The man’s face paled, his body trembling as the realization sank in. “P-please… I didn’t know… I didn’t know it was you…”

“You didn’t know a lot of things,” Jason said, his voice icy. “But you’re about to learn one last lesson.”

The man’s screams turned to gurgles, his body slumping in the chair as blood poured from his wounds. And as the life drained from his eyes, Jason stood, his chest heaving, his hands stained with blood. He looked down at the man who had caused so much pain, the man who had haunted his memories for years, and felt no remorse. Only cold detached satisfaction.

He pressed the back of his helmet, and it closed with a hiss, sealing away his face once more. “Rest in hell,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away. The warehouse fell silent, the only sound the faint drip of blood hitting the floor.

Jason had kept his promise. And he would keep it for the rest of his life. For her. Always for her.

a/n: Got sidetracked with several new projects but we made it gang (Even though it's almost a year late). So yay me and suck on that ADHD and College. Comment to be added into the tag list and I’m taking some requests for Part IV’s smut and suggestions for plot points since I'm running low on brain juice.

Tags : @thisisafish123 @ceramic-raven @millyhelp @blamedbisexual @trunkswithlonghair-blog @jasontoddthings @deans-spinster-witch @12134z03 @sophiethewitch1 @johnnysilverhandeeznuts @yasmin-oviedo @rosecentury @pierayanna @jinviktor @crybaby-21 @solarrexplosion @sahana28banana @ari-sama21 @princessbl0ss0m @fictionalwhor3 @leeleecats @lalalozer @shkosm

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : @hana-no-seiiki

Told you I’d write it and tag you in it.

And this anon

Thank you and I tried to make it worth the wait. ily </3

[legendofmorons]

Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter one - we're not in Kansas anymore

Pairing: eventual poly! Chain x reader, platonic Wind & Reader

Rating: T (cursing)

Summary: You find yourself in a strange world with a familiar set of men that have some ridiculous names. You are left wondering why they are all so... straight towards you. Between a strange dream and the chain's own angst, there's a lot happening.

Warnings: cursing,

Other: I'm so excited to get this story rolling! If I missed anything, please let me know.

Series masterpost | next chapter

You come to awareness while a man hovers over you, which is pretty concerning since you were locking your front door.

Everything in your head feels weird, like it's coated in cotton candy.

You blinked, and then you were sprawled on the ground with a man hovering over you!

The man has dirty blond hair and a kind face.

He has pointed ears?!

Why does he have pointy ears?

They don't look clipped they look like natural elf ears.

You yelp, scrambling back in a horrible crab walk.

"What the fuck?!" You demand breathlessly.

Your heart is beating in your ears as you try to make sense of things. Your mind keeps focusing on the pointy ears.

"Easy, it's okay. You're safe." The man says, hands up so you can see he's not a threat. (His voice strains a little, but you don't really latch onto it.)

The gesture with his hands held up would work better if you knew where you were, and he didn't have a sword strapped to his back.

"Who are you?" You ask, hand landing on a small rock.

You grip the rock, deciding it can be a weapon if you need it to be. Hopefully.

"I'm Sky." The man introduces with a soft tone.

You stare at him, breathing slowly as you try to calm down. Finally, you ask, "Where am I?"

He gives a sympathetic smile. "We're not sure. You fell out of a portal not too long after we did."

"We?"

Sky gestures to the right.

You look, finding eight more males all looking armed to at least the waist if not the teeth.

"I'm dreaming." You decide out loud.

Sky chuckles, "I don't think you are."

"I really hope I am. Otherwise, I'm in trouble." You groan.

"Well, either way, how about we get some foo in you? Wild made some stew."

You sigh, letting go of the rock and getting to your feet. You brush yourself off as well.

"Thank you." You say.

He nods, "Of course. Come on, let's go introduce you to the others."

Sky leads you to the group he motioned to earlier. He moves with an earned confidence that seems out of place without a suit of armor, but that's not important.

You immediately feel uneasy.

It's not anything the group does it's just the fact that there are eight of them. (Nine including Sky.) They are all pretty well armed. There is one if you and you are- not well armed.

You are in a graphic t-shirt, and the closest thing to a weapon you have is your fists.

They all look a little familiar, but that isn't too important. Not now.

The youngest is actually kind of cute in a pirate gremlin kid way. Wavy blond hair and a blue shit (tunic?) And if course pointy ears.

You take in the rest of the group, noticing that they are all blond exceptions for one, and two of them have face markings. (Possibly face tattoos?)

Two have obvious armor and. A few more seem to have on chain mail.

Wow, okay.

Who needs chain mail in this day and age?

"Hey, good to see you awake!" The youngest grins at you.

"Thanks?" You manage.

He almost makes you think of Wind Waker Link.

Wait!

They all look like different Links!

Are you in Hyrule?!

Also, what are they all doing together?

What is going on?

"I made stew if you want some." Says the one that looks like Breath of the Wild Link. He isn't looking at you, actively staring into a pot instead.

You fix a polite smile in place. "Thank you."

"Are you okay? You fell out of the sky." The brown haired man that might be from the first two Zelda titles asks. He looks at you like you have two heads, but if you really fell from the sky... that makes sense. (Right?)

"I what?!" You gasp.

How could you fall out of the sky?

"Do you have a concussion?" Asks the man with the scarf cape thing. He looks at you with pinched brows.

"I hope not?"

Sky pats your shoulder. "I'm sure you're okay. The first portal is the most disorienting."

Someone hands you a bowl of stew.

"Thank you."

"Of course. I feel like you're probably stuck with us for a little bit since you fell through a portal." The most heavily armored says.

Is that... the Hero's Shade?

This is officially either some weird dream, a hallucination, or you are the least favorite of some deity somewhere.

"Well... Nice to meet you?" You say weakly before you introduce yourself.

At the sound of your name, the entire group goes still for a moment. Well, all of them but Wind, who smiles.

They look pained for a second, but they recover quickly. Though the one with a blue hat and no pants looks annoyed at everything.

"I'm Wind." The youngest offers first with a smile.

The shortest looks over next. "I'm Four."

"I'm Twilight." Says the man in the pelt.

The man with the scarf gives a charming and pained smile. "I'm Warriors."

"I'm Hyrule." The man with the brown hair says, looking away from you.

These are the most bizarre names you've heard in a while. Who names their kid Four? Or Warriors?

That just seems cruel.

"I'm Time." The tallest says, his gaze weighty as it lingers on your face.

"I'm Wild." The man with long hair says. He still won't look at you.

The last one, the man with the blue hat, sighs heavily, "Legend."

"Nice to meet you all?" You offer.

Silently, you promise yourself that if you're ever responsible for naming a child you won't stick them with a number or a job title as a name.

Sky smiles at you weakly. "You weren't prepared for an adventure were you?"

"No." You say.

Not prepared is a kind way to put it.

You just count yourself lucky you aren't in pajamas right now.

This is going to be a long day.

-------

Legend is ready to scream. He doesn't care if it's rational either. He deserves to be able to scream after literally everything he's gone through.

First of all, they watch someone fall out of a portal in the sky. Great. Perfect even.

Then, the person happens to look uncannily like the love of his life that died soon after his many adventures. (Soon after an argument where he had been so snappish with them.)

That's just his luck. Par for the course even.

But then, of course, you sound like the lost love.

You have the same name.

This is either a cruel trick or an uncanny coincidence.

Legend hopes it's the second one.

Knowing his luck, though, it's the first. This is almost certainly some cruel trick, because Hylia is a bitch.

He watches you the whole day, from his spot by the impromptu fire. They set up camp after meeting you to try to get you settled into the group.

You are... woefully unprepared.

He feels a little pity for you, everything else aside. He remembers the way that starting with nothing feels.

He remembers how disorienting it can be to get thrown to the deep end of adventure.

You sit by Sky, seemingly a little more comfortable with the man.

The chilly air has earned you one of Wild's extra cloaks, which had been a fight on it's own. You had to be talked into even accepting the damn thing.

It was a strange interaction since Wild wouldn't look at you.

Legend watches you, the way you try to make sense of things. It's familiar.

He looks away, turning instead to look at Warriors who's trying to get Wild and Wind to come down from the trees.

"What of your Hyrule?" Sky asks.

You frown, your voice drawing Legend's eyes.

"I'm not from Hyrule." You say, sounding like the notion is absurd.

Sky nods thoughtfully. "You must be from somewhere else, like me. Where are you from?"

You tell them, naming a place they've never heard of.

Legend dosen’t know where that is... but it sounds nice in your achingly familiar voice.

He's tempted to pretend that you are the reincarnation of his lover. He really is.

He won't, though. That's unfair to you and his lost lover both.

He can't help the glare he sends you. It isn't your fault, but the pain makes him want to glare.

Legend watches you in stilted moments. Wondering how you can so closely resemble his lost love and yet not be them?

If you were... If you were his lover, you would be here at his side, telling him sweet nothings instead of allowing stilted converstions with Sky and Wind.

Legend is sure this is a punishment.

What he wouldn't give to speak to his lover one last time. (To make up that argument to them. To hold them-)

He turns his gaze to Hyrule beside him, who is also watching you with knit brows and thin lips.

"Hyrule?" Legend asks.

Hyrule turns his eyes to his predecessor, gaze glassy with unshed tears. "They look just like my lover... Legend... You see it, right?"

The knowledge of a lover that reincarnates with every cycle of the triforce is taught to children. The part that isn't taught is that the lover never lives long enough.

Every hero is the same soul reincarnated. Every version of the lover is lost too soon.

Legend knows Wind hasn't lost his version of the lover because he isn't looking at you the way the others do.

"I see it." Legend says weakly.

Hyrule swallows. "When does it stop hurting?"

"Never." The veteran manages. "We never stop missing them."

"They look the same every time..."

"I know."

Hyrule takes a shaky breath. "Wind dosen’t know what he's in for... does he?"

Legend shakes his head. "No."

"Should... we tell him?"

"No. That will just ruin the time he has left with them.

Hyrule nods. "Okay."

Legend takes a slow breath. For all that the heroes share the same soul, they feel more like brothers to each other than copies of a person.

There are similarities.

To see any of his brothers hurt is a shot to Legend's heart.

To see Hyrule, his direct successor, hurt? It's cruel.

Hyrule gives a wet, shaking laugh as he leans against Legend. "I miss them, Legend. I miss them every day."

"I know... I miss them too."

Hyrule sighs softly. "I see them in my dreams."

"Me too."

"They'd be telling us we shouldn't live our lives missing them."

"Easier said, then done."

"Tell me about it."

Legend wraps an arm about Hyrule's shoulders. He pulls the traveler closer, silent in his comforting of the other.

Hyrule just leans into it.

They close their eyes, trying to focus on the evening air instead of you.

-------

You settle into the older bedroll you were given after convincing Wild to keep his new one and let you use the old one instead of the other way around. Your mind is loud and busy at the moment.

You are decidedly in Hyrule. You are in the world of the Legend of Zelda.

This is absolutely insane.

You would think this is all some weird dream, but it feels entirely too real.real.

The others have all gone to he'd except for Time, the oldest being on watch first tonight.

You lay near Sky for tonight, the least intimidated by him simply by virtue of having talked to him the most so far.

Sky has his back to you, curling up into a ball.

Time is by the fire, scanning over the group every so often.

You can see Wind sprawled across Wild and Twilight. It's a little funny. The sailor has a blanket thrown across him.

The fire crackles gently. A beacon to draw your attention over and over.

You can't make sense of any of this.

Meeting the character of a whole franchise you've always loved is... rather surreal.

You would even go so far as to say it's a dream come true? Maybe?

It's something you doubt you can ever forget at the very least.

Life will certainly never be the same.

You close your eyes with the intention to sleep.

-------

You're ready to scream. This is the fifth time Link has run off because of some hero bullshit without even saying bye.

You aren't mad he's doing his (unfair) job. You're mad he never lets you know!

The problem is that you never know when he will leave. You don't know if he's out to visit someone or if you should be waiting for him to return in a box.

Living like this is exhausting.

All you want is for him to do better about telling you. He could leave a note, and that would be enough!

Nights full of pacing and worry leave a lot to be desired.

You glance to the table, spotting the red carnations and sighing. The flowers you were given last week are wilting.

Link is still gone. It's been a week, and you haven't heard anything.

The door opens, and you turn, eyes landing on Link. His red tunic has certainly seen better days.

He looks- rough. Bruises, scrapes, dirt, mud, and who knows what else scatter across him.

For a moment, there is only relief.

"Link!" You gasp.

Link looks at you, eyes as beautiful as they are resigned. "Angel."

"Where have you been?! I was so worried!" You cry, crossing the room to check on him.

You move to cradle his face, running your thumbs over his cheek bones. His skin is cold in your hands.

"I've been doing hero shit." Link huffs, pushing your hands away. "Just- leave me alone."

You choke, stepping back. "You just got home."

"Yeah." Link says tightly.

"Can you at least tell me if you're okay? I've been worried sick!"

"You don't need to worry! Leave me alone!"

"I- What the hell Link? All I'm asking is if you're injured?!"

Link storms off with a growl.

You grit your teeth. You know he has bad days. Everyone does. You know he gets grumpy even towards you sometimes. But this is too much

You need some air. You need a walk.

You leave your home, rain pouring. It dosen’t matter. You just need to think.

Rain pours and thunder cracks with lightning.

Worries from the last several days loosen and tighten in quick secession.

Nothing matters.

You just need to focus on breathing.

Calmer heads and all that.

Link will calm down, you know this. He always calms down.

That dosen’t make it easier to deal with the way he snaps at you.

Honestly, you probably should have left him alone the first time he asked. He set a boundary, but in all honesty, your worry made it hard to see that.

You will have to apologize and work on doing better.

For now, though, you're going to focus on centering yourself and giving him the space he needs.

Hopefully, he forgives you.

You hear the monster before you see them. Low sounds.

Terror bolts up your spine -

-------

You jolt awake, breathless as you whip your head around. Blurry vision latching onto the low fire that is almost all embers.

You swallow hard.

Breathing. You need to do that.

Deep breath in.

Slow breath out.

You focus on slowing your breathing as you try to come back from whatever that dream was.

It's wild what brains can do.

It's strange you had a dream about Legend.

Weirder is that it feels... like a memory.

Nightmares can be so bizarre.

"Hey," Wind says from the fire.

You look over, blinking a few times. "Hi?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah... just- rough dreams." You say.

It's strange to admit that. It's strange to be asked anything by Wind.

Why is he even up?

Watch.

You remember now.

He's up for watch.

Wond nods, "That sucks. You gonna be okay to sleep?"

"I think so." You say without thinking about it.

There is no reason to possibly burden the kid.

Laying back down, you stare up at the stars and try to settle down enough to sleep. There's something in your mind saying you will need it.

-----

Next chapter

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Wife: The Duck Dilemma

Joel x F!Reader

Summary: a day at a local farm festival is all fun and games... until it isn't for Joel.

- - - -

He thought the little farm festival with petting area was going to be a good idea.( Like a dumbass) all the way up until Sarah, sitting atop his shoulders, actually sees the little enclosed area and the happy baby goats and sheep and piglets getting cozy around other little kids. Then she starts squealing and pointing excitedly, kicking Joel's chest and tugging his hair to move faster.

He sets her down right outside. You slather the complimentary hand sanitizer foam all between her fingers and up her wrists, and then carefully do the "Listening" chant so she pays attention.

"Remember, 2 finger pet. Veeeery gentle. Watch before you touch. No hands near mouths. And they do NOT need your kisses. Okay baby?"

She nods heavily once, seemingly understanding it all.

Then, you release her into the wild.

You and Joel watch from outside the gate as Sarah carefully waddles to each one in her overalls and little boots. She pets them gently, but they seem more interested in other kids with sticky remnants of food still on their fingers and mouths. Sarah looks so dejected, crossing her hands and waiting patiently.

Like the hero that he is, Joel motions her over and hands her a milk bottle he had somehow bought when you werent paying attention. She eagerly takes it with a smile and walks back to the center.

"Babas! Get babas!" Sarah shouts, holding up the milk bottle. Immediately all the animals come rushing  to her.

You panic for a moment that shes gonna be trampled and eaten. Instead she's laughing as they all lick her cheeks and tongues wag in favor of the bottle. She even takes turns with other kids to feed with the bottle and they pass around the affection. Once she finishes up, she skips back towards you.

You slather more handsanitzer on her and wipe her with your pack of wipes.

You go from each circle, learning about the new 2 week old piggies getting milk from momma, the boat of ducklings under their heating lamp, a  surprisingly impressive show of a squirrel on a mini jet ski, until finally wearing out for the day and walking back to the car with more cotton candy than you'll ever eat in your lifetime.

He can feel the question coming a mile away from you.

"Joel, can we get baby goat."

"No."

"Baby sheep?"

"No."

"Baby...baby duck?"

He holds up Sarah to your face. "How about this baby. Take this one home."

"Oh right. I do love that one." You hoist her into your arms so she can sit on your hip.

Car is loaded, Sarah buckled in a little too happily, and you indulge in some sugary goodness.

On way hone you two hear a peep from the back.

"What was that Sarah?"

"Nufin!" She says quickly. You turn and see her casually tossing her legs and looking around the car, blowing air through her lips pretending to whistle as if bored. Shrugging, you turn back to the front.

But you hear some peeping again, and see through the mirror that Sarah is kissing an emerging little bill in her jacket that is moving of its own.

"Sarah, WHAT IS that."

The little duck pokes it's head out.

You gasp, covering your mouth. "Oh my god..."

Joel whips around and widens at the stowaway duckling nestled into her chest.

He looks between you and Sarah several times before landing his mark. "YOU!" He accuses with a pointed finger at your direction.

"ME??? I DIDNT TELL HER TO TAKE A DUCK!"

"YOU BEEN BEGGIN FOR ONE--"

" I WOULD NOT INCIRMINATE MY DAUGHTER INTO STEALING. Sarah we have to take that back."

"No! Mine!" She holds the flightless little thing defensively to her chest.

"No Sarah, not yours. She has to go with her mommy.

"Ok." She holds it out to you, "Here Mommy!"

"No not me Mommy. Her own Mommy. Duck Mommy. Although it's really... cute. And soft. Probably wanting some attention from a good family...."

"BUT!" Joel snaps, mostly at you.

"BUT we are still taking her back!"

She sniffles and rubs it's soft head against her puffy cheeks, saying goodbye to the duck as you guys go back to the farm.

"Are we raising a kleptomaniac?" You whisper to your fuming husband.

You all apologize profusely at the farm.

"It happens more often than you think," the caretaker laughs. As Joel loads Sarah back in her seat, the handler pulls you aside.

"We're actually not very well funded as we used to"

"Oh I'm so sorry. That's such a shame, this was such a great event and helps kids learn so much."

"Well the thing is.... we don't have the money or staff to continue caring for the ducks once they're a certain age. So if youre open to a donation..."

Joel checks his watch as Sarah clears her tears in the back. He looks at the rear view mirror and you're returning almost with a skip, pulling begind you a wagon.

"What the hell is--"

6 baby ducks quack happily at him.

"ABSOLUTELY NOT! WE RETURN ONE AND GET 6 MORE? HOW DOES THAT ADD UP! SHE DOES GET THIS STEALING FROM YOU!"

"please Joel please please please they need a home!!"

Sarah turns and reaches as far out her seat as possible to be able to see the bickering and cart, and she instantly squeals excitedly kicking her feet.

"You're REWARDING HER FOR STEALING"

"JOEL PLEASE! I never ask ANYTHING of you!"

Hes so bewildered by that statement alone, his jaw nearly snapping off and buring 6 feet under the ground.

He puts his hands on his hips ans taps his foot angrily. Between your teary eyes and clasped hands and checking on Sarah who had an equally powerful trembling pouty lips of begging, he has to take a deep breath to relieve the smoke billowing from his ears and nostrils.

-

A smile on both your and Sarah's face and 6 happy ducks quacking away in the trunk.

"I love you," you say sweetly.

He grumbles unhappily but forces his hand in your lap to hold, scowling with a tight grip on the wheel all the way home.

- - - -

Notes: idc if nobody asks for it but i already have a pt 2 for this at the Miller Household

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[gatitties]

hi so can you do a fic where The straw hats thought we died but when they retuned to scabaody we also come back?

Like the straw hats are like

WAIT YOUR NOT DEAD? HUH

─Strawhats x reader

─Summary: Everything seems to fall apart before their eyes when you die, only to find out that you were enjoying yourself in Sabaody and not in your grave.

─Warnings: none

lmao this was fun to write for no reason 😭🤌🏻

The loss of a loved one is a difficult battle, everyone on this crew has experienced at least one death of a family member or someone close to them to call them family, they hoped that pain would not damage their hearts again, unfortunately, you shattered their hearts when they found your limp body on Sky Island when you decided to go your own way.

With their hearts in their throats and their eyes red, they had to say goodbye to you bitterly, burying your body in a cluster of soft clouds, they were silent for a minute until Luffy was the first to give the signal to leave, he knew you would have liked that they were not so sad and that their adventures had not yet ended like yours.

They lamented your lack of presence, you always made everything a little more enjoyable with your nonsense, you managed to fit in perfectly with each of them and although you were not the smartest, most cunning or powerful on the team, they did not expect your early departure.

It was when they arrived at Sabaody for the first time that they thought they were going crazy, thinking that they had gotten over your loss, someone strangely like you seemed to be hanging around that island.

Luffy could clearly see how you were riding some attractions, Nami was confused when she saw you trip over a huge root, Chopper thought that the smell of disinfectant had made him hallucinate and see you eating cotton candy, Usopp simply thought he saw a ghost, Brook thought you came back from the dead to exact revenge when he saw you beating up a couple of guys who seemed to bother you, Franky could only catch your laugh, but it was so similar that he thought his brain was playing tricks on him, Zoro and Sanji bumped into you, but neither you nor they were paying attention as something bigger was catching everyone's attention and practically everyone was jostling each other.

While, oblivious to all the suffering, pain and coping that your companions had to do, you woke up buried in clouds a while ago, managing to get down and reach Sabaody miraculously like a stowaway on another pirate ship, you had planned to look for them and scold them a little for thinking you were dead, but your plans were thwarted when you found the island too much interesting, well, you had been 'dead' for a while, it was okay if you enjoyed a little time at the attractions before looking for your companions.

The thing is that you got so distracted and forgot to find them, if it weren't for the fact that, coincidentally, Jinbe ─who you didn't know since you didn't get to know him─ recognized you from the brief conversations they had with him about you, he was waiting in the queue to buy something and you were just behind, you started a chat to kill time.

"You look terribly like a person who died in the crew I'm part of now, I mean, because of the descriptions they made."

"Oh…"

The blood on your face disappeared at his words, remembering now that you had a crew to return to, and that in fact you were that supposedly dead person, you laughed nervously, wanting to resume your search, although there was no need.

"Hey, Jinbe, here! We were looking for you."

You blinked like an owl as you saw Luffy greet him with his characteristic smile, calming down as you saw the others walking a little further behind calmly, you smiled fondly when you saw them, making eye contact for a second with your captain as you sipped the drink you had gotten before, he casually greeted you by saying your name and you waved back, focused on finishing your drink.

"Wait a moment, you…" he narrowed his eyes looking at you again, drawing the attention of the others "Are you the twin of our dead comrade!?"

You choked on your own drink, Chopper patting you on the back.

"No uh- in fact it's me, the original, only and loved-"

"WEREN'T YOU DEAD!?"

You covered your ears when you heard Nami's scream, your tongue went dry and your body seemed to get smaller when you saw her gaze, everyone had different emotions reflected ─Luffy and Zoro were still a little confused because they really thought you have a twin─ but Nami was the most furious, she started hitting and pushing you.

"GIVE ME BACK THE TEARS I SHED FOR YOU!"

"AW, OH, SORRY!? YOU LEFT ME FOR DEAD!"

You ran in circles avoiding the navigator, protecting your head from her light blows while you apologized for not having warned that you 'rose from the dead'.

"Well, who knows, maybe it's a zombie."

"Robin, you're not helping me."

You whimpered, hiding behind Sanji and Franky, waiting for Nami to calm down, it wasn't a reunion like you planned ─you didn't plan anything─ but everyone felt a little relieved, leaving behind the bitterness of losing a partner and enjoying your company now that you were with them again.

[onyourhyuck]

LOWKEY. | N.JM

— Prologue: “I like what we have.”

— Summary: You and Jaemin are best friends but behind the close doors you have a lowkey relationship that no one knows about.

— Genre: Fwb smut. Best friends to secret fwbs. Suggestive and soft sex. Lazy sex. Pussy eating. Jaemin loves Y/n’s thighs so much.

— Notes: Lazy sex honestly hits differently.

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One word to describe you and Jaemin? Lowkey.

You’re best friends everyone knows that. People can mutually agree that you and Jaemin are close friends nothing else but what you know is the opposite. Behind the close doors you’re the one spread wide open for your best friend letting him have a taste as much as he wants.

Behind those close doors lies a secret that no one else knows except you and Jaemin.

And it excites you because you love what you have with him. It’s a secret only you and him have. Nothing else matters when you’re alone together by yourself with your true, true selves. You don’t have to pretend you guys don’t want one another when you equally want each other.

Jaemin doesn’t have to bullshit his way out to say you’re only a friend when in reality he knows how your lips tastes. He knows the chapstick flavour you use. He knows you like to mismatch your underwear and he thinks it’s wonderful you do.

Or the fact that you have a these mood swings when you wake up and he isn’t in bed with you. He knows that you love to cuddle someone or something to fall asleep otherwise you want go to sleep.

He knows things ‘friends’ wouldn’t usually know.

Right now you’re lazing with Jaemin on the bed. Your arms are wrapped around him and he has the same arms wrapped around your body together, you guys are in the most comfortable position you don’t even need to move to get comfortable because Jaemin’s chest was the perfect pillow substitute. And you were a cute little baby wrapped in between the forearms as he looks down at you cuddling you even closer because being close to you simply wasn’t close enough for him. You’re staying over at Jaemin’s house today. He told you to come over because he missed you and who were you to say no to that?

You ran out the door the moment you read the ‘I miss you’ text and then arrived at his doorstep the next second.

You’re keeping this so lowkey your parents don’t even know or your mutual friends aren’t suspecting anything which is fine. Because when you’re alone with Jaemin you feel like you don’t need anyone else.

You see your best friend looking down at you and he gives you a little kiss on your forehead at the centre as your bangs were in the way of your eyes he slowly wipes them upwards with his thumb. He takes his gently time to swipe them back so he can look at your face without having your hairs in the way. You enjoy seeing how soft he can actually be. You’re just lazily laying there trapped between his tight embrace as if he was never going to ever let you go.

You let a small smile, watching the sinewy beautiful boy in front of you. “Jaemin you might suffocate me if you keep squeezing me and kissing me right here.” He wore a white tee shirt short sleeves and the black hair very loose and soft. It looks like a bunch of cotton candy to you or at least that’s how his hair feels like to you. It’s very soft. You’ve never touched anything soft as this. Jaemin’s bare face was also, extremely handsome you wonder if you’re gazing into a real life prince.

Your best friend playfully frowns and kissed your forehead again. “Hmm one more?” He asked you and you feel your eyebrows raise up. “Okay, one more.” Jaemin went for another kiss but then he just goes and pampers your entire face with kisses; he attacks your forehead with his lips, your cheeks, your eyelids that are closed, your chin and jawline. He even kissed your ears and the sides of your neck now. You feel so overwhelmed by how fast he kissed you in all those different places. At the same time they were soft and sweet too.

Jaemin’s very much affectionate when he’s alone with you like this and he feels so safe with you.

You let out a soft laugh. “You said one more, that was at least like seven times.” He heard you say this and he smirks softly leaning up and staring at your eyes a little bit.

Jaemin shifts on top of you hovering above as he stares down at your beautiful face and he’s practically taunting your lips wanting to kiss them. No. He needs to kiss them.

Jaemin’s silvery and husky voices has you hyperventilating at times because it’s so deep and soft with love and adoration for you. “I wasn’t counting, to me that felt like one kiss.” Jaemin retorts back to you running his fingers through your hair that feels so warm.

You want to tell him that he was in fact counting he just didn’t want to say he wasn’t. You know at times Jaemin can be very smug.

When the time closes the both you found yourselves in a lazy makeout. It starts of slow and low on energy. There’s no extra movements, no extra efforts put into the kiss. It’s just lazy kisses that can make your skin crawl and your heart run wild.

The lazy makeouts while he’s on top of your softly brushing his thumb across your inner cheek makes you melt like a puddle in middle of the Highway.

You didn’t even realise that you’re making out with him with slight more I resistant intensity now. The lazy makes-out went from zero to a whopping hundred when Jaemin began to brush his tongue within the seconds of the kiss growing more and more frisky between the two of you.

Your bodies get even closer. You sat up on the bed as Jaemin did the same. He sat up to pull you closer by your waist and the kiss not once broke off between the both of your faces. He caressed you and your body feels warmer in response to how good this all feels. It feels like you’re going to explode into something that will have you squealing with excitement and joy for him.

Your heart picks up a rate when Jaemin slips his hands around your shirt and slowly takes it off, your eyes were closed in that moment as you’re focusing in giving everything you have in the kiss you’re sharing with your best friend.

Jaemin didn’t waste a minute to pull you back down and lay you in the same position as previously you were in. He breaks it off as he looks into your eyes longingly.

He needs you, so bad.

“I don’t want to move, but I need you so bad.” Jaemin whispers brushing your hair and tucks it behind your ears.

You look at him understanding what he meant. He was feeling like lazing around with you and being in bed with him was such a good comfort thing to do. You don’t feel like moving too much either so instead you just kiss his lips a little and the sides of his neck.

“We can keep it lowkey.” You whisper. “I like what we have.” You’re reassuring him because you want him to know you feel the same as he does.

He doesn’t need to put too much effort. Jaemin smiles liking your answer and he found it appealing to him because you just know the right words to say everytime he needs you.

His hands tug on your sweatpants, which are his but you’re wearing them at times now. Whenever you come over you tend to take his clothes with you. Jaemin slips them down to your ankles and he reconnects his hands around your thighs. Jaemin kissed your knee and then your thighs he loves so much. They’re just the perfect size and if anything he sometimes wished you’d suffocate him around them. They’re so warm too, probably the warmest place around your body if you don’t count your breasts.

Jaemin won’t do anything too much effort but he will do enough to pleasure you and him at the same time. He doesn’t even need to get any pleasure to stimulate him because him pleasuring you was a way of giving him a better pleasure anyways.

He always finds your pleasure to be the most thrilling. It turns him on. It makes him satisfied.

Your hands prickle at his hair when Jaemin lowers the head down picking at your panties he slips them off and then, he takes an admiring look between your legs at your regional central. Jaemin saw how much your pussy looks to be begging to him at this point you’re anticipating it hard.

The moment you feel your best friends mouth open and touch at your clit giving it a little kitten lick you feel your eyes clench. Jaemin works his eyes down at your pussy not even bothering to look at your face right now because he’s too focused on giving you the best but low effort pleasure yet. Your body was very loose and relaxed because of all the cuddling you did with him earlier.

When his tongue laps around your two folds perking up at the erecting pleasure you feel his hands gently knead and fold around your inner thighs, he squeezes them at every lick he does at your cunt or when he wants to give you a little more of a harder time he shifts and sucks longer at your clit by using his teeth light to graze over, like a canon shooting out balls of pleasure at your body.

Sure, you don’t have a label with Jaemin. You say you’re best friends but you’re clearly more than that. But at the same time you wouldn’t say you’re boyfriend and girlfriend. It’s like you don’t have a label but you’re so comfortable being like this with him you don’t mind it.

At the end of the day labels don’t matter right? As long as you have Jaemin and he has you, that’s all that matters to the both of you.

And none of you would swap it for the world.

Your face cannot hide the pleasures that the boy down below was giving you and giving only you. It was something you cannot control because your eyebrows flutter like a pair of blooming Iris’ whenever he tastes you even more like he’s been imprisoned for decades or centuries.

The seeping tongue coursing through your insides and your clit makes your body skyrocket and sluggish with more this continues and Jaemin drags his mouth like a landmark on a map.

He traced his tongue down even further as his fingers made little progress between your smooth skin caressing your beautiful inner thighs and upwards up the pelvis, and right above your hips he gave a tight living squeeze as Jaemin’s breath began to pour against your cunt.

The room was filled with your sigh’s or your own running thoughts you spoke when the pleasure got too much.

You were allowed to say whatever you wanted because this was yours and Jaemin’s safe place. No one can see your relationship behind the closed doors because this was lowkey.

He wasn’t doing much effort yet he made you tremble by the lewd pulsing indulges the mouth was gaping at your watering hole, with the whole world behind the door not knowing a single thing that your best friend was eating you out like no tomorrow, and you love it, you love it so much you don’t want it to ever stop.

It was so mollifyingly beautiful, to see you look so spread out for him and taking everything Jaemin gave you because you’re such an amazing girl who listens to what he’s willing to do for you.

It’s times like these he’s the most grateful for you. You let him relax and be himself. He doesn’t have to do much to please you and you’re appreciative.

Jaemin of course does so much for you. He goes the extra length for you in anything.

The pleasure enhanced by the second, your eyes open now and you staring at the ceiling as your mouth escapes out your begs — oh how sweet your begs make Jaemin so weak and drunk on your sweet sweet darling cunt.

“J-Jaemin… I’m… so close, I don’t think I can last, Jaemin…” you repeat his name, in such short threats you feel him diving even more into your sating pretty pearl that he rubs his tongue on your perky lips down below contouring your pleasure.

Your nub was so abused by the boy below hungrily burning his mouth on the space between your spread legs.

One quick thrust from his mouth all at once had your orgasm reaching a certain high level of speed rushing out of your lips.

Jaemin saw you rasping at the bedsheets as your legs sent miniature spams and he saw your thighs jig around between the intensifying orgasm running wild at your stomach you sucked in.

The boy held your thighs down pushing your body against the bed when your body went to arch forward off the bedsheets. He made sure to force you back down as Jaemin didn’t move backwards, no, he stayed and pushed his tongue further more inside until he had all the taste of you.

“Ah.. ahhh fuck…”

Your hips buckle forward doing a little dry hump against your best friend’s mouth as he was making you cry from how good this feels.

Jaemin hums against your sex with tiny purrs leaving his beautiful plum lips looking so kissable. Moving away from your cunt he looks up at you seeing how well you took all his mouth provided, and you’re not left slightly breathing abnormally as it leaves your oxygen levels decreasing.

The blood rushing to your head and your cheeks was a visible sign that you were feeling better, now that you came on his mouth and Jaemin loves the taste of you too.

“Hmm… you taste so good, so fucking good.” He whispers as he leaves his face away from your sex and slowly looks at you with lambing eyes at your flushed face.

The cloying nature of the situation catches up to the both of you and it didn’t take long until he laid down next to you and you wrap your arms around his chest as you lay next to one another.

None of you said anything else but your eyes spoke words to each other that your lips could never achieve to rejuvenate.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates. It helps a girl out <3

[bloodygnqv]

Oh Say Can You See

John Price x fem reader

cw: smut!! minors dni!, size difference (reader is described as small but dw there’s no infantilization), uuuh i think that’s it??

A/N: fuck the national anthem it’s a lana song. it’s been a while since i’ve written smut hope you enjoy anyway bless you all xx 🙏🏻

“Are you okay, love?” John asks you from where you’re laying on your side.

He’s all warmth and comfort, musk and tobacco and leather, a stark contrast between the feminine fruits and spring flowers and candy you enjoy wearing.

His voice is a quiet rumble, the crackle of a fireplace, the roar of an engine, the step on snow.

“Mhm, yeah,” you reply, sleepy and pliant, “Just really missed you.”

John lays on his side as well, cuddling you from behind. He’s always been the bigger spoon, arms and hands so large, so strong he can fully wrap them around your waist, cup your breasts in his palms, keep you to himself. His greed for you and your affection lodges in his throat.

You can feel him hardening against your back, and you stifle a small smile. “Go ahead, John, I’ve been waiting all day,” you whisper, your own desire sparkling in your belly, black milk and rose red and the veil of longing.

“God, you’re soaking. That needy pussy just needs some attention, huh?” His fingers slide against your slit gently as you whimper an affirmative and lift your leg a bit to give him access.

“I can take you, John, really, you can just slide in,” you mumble, stroking at his thigh greedily.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? You’re so small and I haven’t prepped you, you know it might hurt…”

Concern laces his voice like poison ivy. It almost makes you melt — he’s always been like this from the moment you two got together, soft care and love so strong it almost suffocates you.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I played with myself earlier..”

“Okay then,” he permits. He taps the head of his dick over your pussy, still not going in, syrupy whines escaping your throat.

And then his cock notches at your leaky entrance, slowly going in, and every little nag and annoying pesky thought hide somewhere in the back of your head.

“Oh,” you gasp and look down to where you two are connected.

John isn’t very long, but he’s thick, thick enough that you feel the stretch every single time you have sex. He carves out a place for himself in you, Galatea and Pygmalion, gentle marble across your legs (his large hands completely envelop the expanse of your thighs, leaving galaxy marks in his wake).

“Yeah,” John breathes, heavy, grunting out a response, “That’s it. Almost there, love, you can take it. Shit, you’re tight…”

You mewl, hands scraping for purchase against the duvet as he runs his fingers through your hair, his beard tickling your neck, whispering cotton candy filth in your ear. You know he’s already pushed in as you feel his heavy balls snug against your ass.

“There you go. Feels good, eh?”

“It does,” you whimper. There’s the slightest touch of too much, tiniest specks of pain, but they’re quickly chased away by the time John starts thrusting lazily. You’re not gonna last long, and if John’s satisfied grunts are anything to go by, he isn’t, either.

You grab his thick arm from where it’s perched over the gentle curve of your waist, delicate wrist teasing the underside of his palm and intertwining your fingers.

You’ve never felt more at home. You’re exactly where you need and want to be, ballad-like moans and late comfortable nights, devoted eyes and lust as a virtue. John’s filling you up just right, quenching the thirst that has simmered in you all day, pushing you off the edge.

John’s other hand reaches around and starts playing with your clit, just enough pressure in circles to bring you over the edge. He always goes the extra mile when it comes to expressing his love through pleasure, making your legs shake, newborn fawn, you are, seeing constellations and new planets beneath your eyelids.

“I’m gonna cum,” you murmur.

“Go ahead, baby. I missed you so, so much, my beautiful girl,” John rasps, peppering small kisses on the canvas of your neck.

There it is — the explosion of feeling and love and pleasure in your tummy, crawling down your legs and up your arms, making you moan and fist the sheet under your body.

Your orgasm pushes John to the edge, and you can feel his spend spilling in the crevice of your cunt, loud groans echoing in the corners of your ears, arms tightening around your small frame. That’s his favorite place to cum in, warm velvet around him, all that love that burns like a motor in his skin.

John pulls out slowly and lovingly cleans you up as your consciousness slips away from you. It’s been a long, long day, and the great sex is but your favorite way to release tension and put you in that space between wake and sleep.

The afterglow sneaks its way in your vein as you lay across John’s thick, hairy chest and close your eyes. This is your favorite time of day, all warm and snug and happy.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

His caress always feels like a blanket, a balm to soothe your wounds, a hazy morning dream you don’t want to wake up. It makes you all the more grateful, lying with the man you love in a space you two made.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Okay listen I adore batsibling content in fanon but each group gets a different type

Gossipy more like friends 80% of the time. will shit talk each other but if anyone says shit they’re getting decked. It’s fluffy but in the “you know I love you right?” Is said really awkwardly after the other sibling is surprised you’re on their side way Jay and Dick

Sweet and fluffy I don’t like angst in this at all give me a very healthy very wholesome soft relationship that’s just good all the way through Tim and Dick

So sweet it hurts tooth rotting fluff needs the same taste as cotton candy with the weight of a brick Dick and Damian

Bratty younger sibling and anger issues older sibling get into fist fight and are hugging 30 secs later. Will punch each other in the face and then defend the other one against their parents without blinking. Damian and Steph

Very very awkward affection like I love you and would die for you but we’ve had like 3 whole conversations. Damian and Jason (on Jason’s end Damian’s a lil shit)

You know when your little sibling is finally no longer insufferable and you can finally chill together at family events and you’re like. Fuck wait you’re growing up stop that’s illegal. Damian and Tim

“I broke your laptop”

“Yeah well I put nair in your shampoo”

“I should’ve killed you at the tower”

“Don’t be a lil bitch bc you couldn’t handle the gig”

Jason and Tim

Supportive big brother who brags about his sisters achievements while being a lil worried she’ll beat him and no one will ever need him again and baby sister who tries so hard and does so well and hopes she’s living up to their expectations (dick and cass)

I’m friends with your ex now and so sometimes I’ll bring it up to fuck with you bc I think it’s funny energy like Steph tells Cass about what Tim has done during their relationship and Cass who loves Tim but also women has to affectionately beat him up now (Tim and Cass)

Cass and Damian? I don’t think I’ve ever seen these too interact in a fic where Cass can speak actually…. Fuck we need more baby Assassins squared content in this fandom

Let us commiserate on the absolute cringe of everyone else here without acknowledging we are just as bad (dick and Steph)

Cass doesn’t like Jason and so I will leave them out

Remember these aren’t their canon relationships these are just what I like to read in fanon (inspired by their canon relationships in most cases but also fully canon with dick and Tim we ignore any authors who say otherwise my babies)

[minghaoslatina]

THE CLAW MACHINE FULL OF SANRIO PLUSHIES

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

pairing: seonghwa x f!reader

warnings: little bit of angst, jealousy, mentions of food

word count: 1.7k

now playing 🎧 love by wave to earth

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

As you walk through the busy carnival with Seonghwa and the rest of ATEEZ, you can't help but feel excited. The bright, colorful lights, sounds of laughter, and the sweet smells of funnel cake, chocolate-covered fruits, and cotton candy fill the air, making it a perfect day for new memories. Seonghwa holds your hand tightly, a smile on his face as he guides you through the crowds. He had been looking forward to this for weeks, knowing that with their busy schedule, it's not always easy to find time for romantic dates like this one. But today, the stars aligned, and here you are, surrounded by the fun and magic of the carnival. Although you don't like being in crowded places, Seonghwa made a promise to be by your side at all times.

Originally, Seonghwa had planned it to be just the two of you, but the others overheard the plan while Seonghwa was making dinner for you one night. Now, even though it's a group outing, Seonghwa makes sure that you feel special and loved, stealing glances at you and squeezing your hand every chance he gets. Moments like these make you grateful for the love and happiness these boys bring into your life.

As you and the boys gather around the amusement park's most popular ride, Wooyoung suddenly screams, "I want to go on that first!" He eagerly grabs Hongjoong's hand and pulls him towards the ride, with the rest of the boys following suit. However, Seonghwa notices that you remain rooted to the spot, with a look of apprehension on your face as you gaze up at the towering ride.

Seonghwa gently releases your hand and steps closer to you, noticing your unease. "Should we go on a different ride?" he asks, his voice soft and reassuring.

"It's alright," Seonghwa says, giving you a reassuring smile. "I promised to stay by your side, and I always keep my promises."

You feel a sense of relief wash over you, and you are grateful for Seonghwa's kind words. His eyes sparkle like the stars above as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

"Seonghwa, please come with me," Yeosang pleads, interrupting your thoughts. "San is too scared to ride with me, and we need an even number."

"I can't, I have to stay with y/n," Seonghwa replies, casting a reassuring glance in your direction.

"Hey, it's okay, Hwa," you said with a smile, comforted by his presence. "San and I will find another ride to go on. Thank you for wanting to stay with me."

Seonghwa looks into your eyes for reassurance, "Are you sure?" he asks. You nod and give him a smile.

"I won't leave her alone," San says, coming up next to you. "We'll go on the bumper cars and wait for you guys here," you nod along with him. Seonghwa feels a bit conflicted about leaving you with San, even though he is one of his closest friends. It's not that Seonghwa doesn't trust San, but he feels protective of you as any good boyfriend should. After some thought, Seonghwa decides to trust San.

"Thanks, San. I'll be back soon, baby," Seonghwa says. He looks from San to you and kisses your cheek before letting Yeosang drag him away from you.

You wave them goodbye and turn towards San, who is already giving you a dimpled smile. "Bumper cars?" you suggest excitedly. You and San both laugh and wait in line for your turn.

After a long thirty minutes, Seonghwa and the others come back from their ride and start searching for you and San. Seonghwa tries calling you, but you don't answer. He begins to feel a sense of panic rise within him, but he soon spots your adorable braids and everyday purse with San in the distance. His smile faded as he watched San expertly maneuver the claw machine to win you a Cinnamoroll Sanrio plushie. Your favorite Sanrio. Seonghwa felt a pang of jealousy rise within him. He wants to be the one winning you plushies and impressing you with his skills. He watches as you hug San with gratitude and thank him for the sweet gesture.

Before San could also wrap his arms around you, Seonghwa quickly comes over and gently touches your shoulder. You turn around, and your eyes light up when you realize it's your Seonghwa.

"Hwa, look what Sannie won for me! I gave up after three tries, but he did it in just one! Isn't it so cute?" you bring the plushie up to his face, and your giggles make Seonghwa's knees feel weak. He feels guilty for feeling jealous when he knows you would never do anything to upset him, but he can't help feeling like the plushie is mocking him. It's as if it's saying, You didn't win me. You didn't win me. Despite the childish urge to punch the plushie from your hands, Seonghwa resists and forces a smile.

"It is cute; it even matches your pretty nails," Seonghwa compliments, taking your hand and admiring the glitter to hide his feelings.

You gasp, "You're so right. Now I need to take a picture." You happily take out your phone and snap a picture of yourself holding Cinnamoroll.

Seonghwa lets out an exasperated sigh, trying to contain his frustration. "San, I think it's better if you head back to the others now. y/n and I are going somewhere else," he says, struggling to keep his tone even.

You and San exchange confused glances as you try to make sense of Seonghwa's sudden irritation. San, feeling uneasy, asks Seonghwa if everything is alright, sensing that Seonghwa's annoyance is directed at him. San is at a loss, not knowing what he may have done to upset Seonghwa.

"Yeah, I just want to spend time with my girlfriend," Seonghwa says, taking your hand and walking away.

You quickly turn your head over your shoulder. "We'll be back, San. Have fun with the others." You smile at him and turn towards Seonghwa again. You can tell that something is wrong with him by the annoyed look on his face and the way his grip tightens around your hand.

Concerned, you stop in front of a churro stand and a Ferris wheel and ask him if he's okay. You take both of his warm hands in yours and stand in front of him to get his attention. Seonghwa lets out a deep sigh as soon as he sees your worried gaze. It's not your fault he can't control his dumb jealousy. You can tell he's not okay, but you're unsure what's bothering him.

"I'm fine," Seonghwa tries to reassure you, but you know when Seonghwa is not being truthful.

"What's wrong?" you gently ask him again. Seonghwa sighs and reaches for the plushie that is sitting under your arm.

"This is my problem," Seonghwa faces the Sanrio plushie towards you with a very (adorable) annoyed expression. It only took you a few seconds to piece everything together. You then wrap your arms around Seonghwa's waist and let out muffled laughs.

"Why are you laughing?" Seonghwa tries to hide his smile as he attempts to make you look at him again.

You find yourself gazing up at Seonghwa, your eyes meeting his from his chest. A playful smile curves at the corner of your lips as you tease him, "You're cute when you're jealous."

Seonghwa looks away in guilt and quickly apologizes, "I'm sorry, beautiful. I guess I felt jealous seeing you spend time with San even though I'm the one who left. Both of you would never do anything to hurt me. I know that, but I was being stupid."

You smile and try to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach from how much your boyfriend cares, "It's okay, Hwa. I forgive you. But you should apologize to Sannie, too. Poor boy just did not want to go on that horrifying ride."

You both laugh and go back to holding hands.

"It's adorable when they think no one is looking," Jongho remarks with a mouthful of popcorn as he and the boys share various carnival foods.

"It's us against the world," Mingi mocks Seonghwa, and the boys laugh loudly, feeling happy and content to be together, watching as you and Seonghwa go around playing different games together.

As the night wore on, Seonghwa's luck at the carnival games became increasingly impressive. With each toss and throw, he racked up a collection of ten more plushies for you to take home. Of all the fluffy toys he won, your favorite one is definitely the Toothless Dragon from the movie "How to Train Your Dragon." Its resemblance to your adorable boyfriend is uncanny, down to the little details of its big eyes and endearing smile. In appreciation for his efforts, you rewarded Seonghwa with multiple pecks on his lips, feeling grateful for his company. He even bought you many churros to snack on, knowing how much you adore them.

Seonghwa's attention is caught by the growing crowd of people in one area and the faint sound of explosions in the distance. "I think the fireworks are going to start soon," he remarks. You nod your head, and both of you follow the crowd with plushies in your hands. You quickly spot the towering figures of Yunho and Mingi in the crowd and head towards them. The excitement in the air is palpable as everyone waits for the magical display of lights and colors to begin.

As you approach the group, Hongjoong is the first to notice you. "There's our lovely couple," he exclaims, causing the rest of the boys to turn their heads and greet you with warm smiles.

San playfully pokes Seonghwa's cheek and asks, "You feeling better, pouty boy?" Seonghwa grins and apologizes for his earlier moodiness. San is quick to reassure him, shaking his head and telling him that it's okay.

"Can I have one?" Wooyoung asks, looking at all your plushies. You open your mouth, about to say yes, but Seonghwa blocks your view with one arm. "No, I won them for her," Seonghwa says. Wooyoung pouts and mutters a playful "meanie" before stepping closer to you to watch the fireworks. You can't help but smile at the playful banter between the two while secretly cherishing the plushies Seonghwa won for yourself.

🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

a/n 💌

I was so nervous to write this…but ateez at the carnival sounds so chaotic and fun 😭🫶🏼

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: ก่อนดอกไม้…บาน / 花开有时颓靡无声 / Meet You at the Blossom

Meet You at the Blossom is a 2024 joint Thai/Chinese adaptation of a Chinese danmei novel. Marketing itself as an "uncensored BL," it tells the love story of the world's dumbest boy and the absolute psychopath he has the (mis)fortune to fall for.

Note that "uncensored" doesn't mean you're going to see somebody's little blossom or anything like that. It just means that the love story is textual and canonical. These boys declare their love for one another. They hold hands. They smooch. They have soft, unfocused scenes where one of them climbs on top of the other and then everything fades to black. They are two boys and they are in love ... and sure, one of them thinks the other is a girl for longer than is probably reasonable, but what relationship doesn't have its share of misunderstandings?

This twelve-episode drama is a bodice-ripping melodrama with a bottom-barrel Harlequin novel plot. It is the most soap opera I've seen something that isn't a soap opera be. If you are the kind of person who enjoys this sort of thing, you are absolutely going to enjoy this sort of thing. If you're not ... well, it might still hook you anyway. Here's five reasons I think you should watch it.

1. Perfect toxic yaoi sludge

Do you only consume media about healthy relationships between consenting equals, where people have conversations and are always honest about their feelings? Great. Turn this off immediately.

Meet You at the Blossom is the show for people who yearn for the days of Kizuna. People who still think longingly about Zetsuai 1989. People who will not be convinced that Tokyo Babylon is anything but peak romance. People who have seen Gravitation more than once and of their own volition. People who have looked the trashiest yaoi out there dead in the eye and shouted BRING ME MORE.

I keep using the word "yaoi" because that's what it is. It's a gay relationship begun under false premises, consummated under sketchy circumstances, longed for despite serious reasons to stay broken up, and then all somehow worked out in the end. I have described the main pairing as, what if Wen Kexing fell in love with a labradoodle? Carried out to its logical conclusion, this relationship would be good for neither Wen Kexing nor the labradoodle. But for the purposes of a catastrophically badly paced twelve-episode series, it's all the dramatic fuel you need.

Nothing about their relationship is ever reliably safe, sane, or consensual -- and that's the fun of it! Look, the first time they fuck (in episode two!) is under the influence of sex pollen, and they come out the other side of it awkward but definitely not traumatized. I've seen people say they wish the show had treated the noncon bits with more gravity, which ... look, there's no noncon here. Actual noncon-wanters would be sorely disappointed by what this show offers. There's some impaired judgment and overblown irrational jealousy and aggressively pinning one's very drunk partner to the bed, but it's that kind of perfectly okay force fantasy that works in fiction, because in fiction everyone's okay with it. You know they're okay with it. The writer wrote it so they're okay with it. Everybody is getting exactly what they want.

This is a drama about people having Big Feelings that would be terrifying in real life, but are fun as hell onscreen. So you are promising me right now that if you watch this, you will not overthink it, because overthinking this show is like being that raccoon that failed at washing a piece of cotton candy. Don't try to clean up this delicate sugary mess. Eat it dirty.

2. Some fascinating faces

This is going to sound like such a backhanded compliment, but I swear it's not: There are some really interesting-looking people in this show! I can't swear this is because of the Thai production elements, but I have to assume that the different cultural beauty standards at work at least somewhat influenced the casting choices.

A thing about c-dramas is, the majority of the under-40 male actors look like their base model came off of one of the dozen or so approved production lines at the Pretty Boy Factory. While I enjoy these production lines, combine it with my natural touch of faceblindness, and I've had some hilarious moments where I have been certain two characters were played the same person, when they were in fact very much not.

This show is full of a bunch of actors you'd be hard-pressed to mistake for anyone else. There's like one guy who's conventionally c-drama handsome, while everyone else brings a lot more variety to the table than you tend to find in productions like this.

Li Le, when he's all done up as Zongzheng Huaien, is strikingly beautiful in a way that reminds me of old film starlets who maybe should've stopped about one nose job ago. I've seen pictures of him when he's dressed like a regular modern boy, and he's lovely, sure. But with the hair and the outfits and the constant haughty ice-cold stares he's leveling at people, the final look is stunning. And then he smiles and it's just the cutest goofy grin! Anyway, there's a whole big deal about Huaien's parentage, when the obvious answer is that the fey folk dropped him off and said, good luck with this one.

Meanwhile, Wang Yunkai, who plays Jin Xiaobao, has perfectly plump, kissable lips and a wide, soft nose that together with his giant eyes give him the perfect air of an innocent bisexual dumbass currently in the process of figuring out the whole "bisexual" part. He's so cute and cuddleable that you feel extra-bad when you see him in pain, which works for the show, because he spends a lot of the back half of the series being in both emotional and physical pain, as per conventions of the genre.

As for the rest of the cast, there's...

store-brand Huang Youming!

pouty Thai princess!

slimy kite dude and his terrible 'stache!

these precious dipshits!

...and a couple guys I just straight-up can't find pictures of, even though they're important named characters, because this may be the first thing they've been in? Look, this is not a show of well-known names, nor is it something that's probably to launch any careers to prominence. I'm not even going to say this is a show where everybody looks like everyday average people, because no! They obviously do not! They are very attractive people! They are just attractive according to a set of criteria you do not often see on Chinese television, and I think that's great.

3. You don't have to say NO HOMO every time you touch another dude

Really, truly, the greatest thing about an overtly BL property is how touchy men can be -- and not even the romantic pairings! Loyal servants get to hug their masters! Coworkers get to fall asleep in a two-man puppy pile! Childhood besties get to wrap comforting arms around one another! Brothers in arms get to catch their fallen comrades! Friends get to tearfully bid farewell to one another before leaving on journeys! Cousins get to embrace to the point one of the cousins really wishes they would stop!

Mostly it's that once you've removed the fear that gay shit might get your show censored, you can have your male characters engage in a perfectly regular amount of human physical contact.

Like, one of my favorite funny things about c-dramas is the amount of wrist-gripping that happens, as though dragging someone else along by their wrist is a real-life thing that happens often, or even at all. It's the perfect example of how paranoia about depicting physical intimacy leads to substitutes that are just bizarre. We can't possibly have these two people hold hands! So let's make up another gesture and pretend it's a thing people do voluntarily and (more importantly) heterosexually!

But when you've already outright put the YEP, IT'S GAY sign on your production, that paranoia vanishes. What are the censors going to do, get mad at the part where two friends are sleeping tangled up with one another? Three minutes ago there was a scene where one guy kissed another on the mouth! Let those boys snooze!

Alas that the scenes that are supposed to be sexy come across as mostly awkward -- largely because those two leads don't really seem all that keen on sticking their tongues down each other's throats, which, you know, I get; it'd be weird if I had to kiss my coworkers. But what they are good at is snuggling. I almost wish -- and keep in mind this is me saying this -- they'd cut the scenes that were trying to be horny and leaned more into the tender, playful moments they get together. Those are the ones that made me squeal happily and kick my little feet.

I have to mention this one: There is a little cheek kiss that I absolutely love. (I can't find a screencap of it, and my own attempts at screenshotting it were hilariously unproductive, but it gets played as part of gay flashbacks pretty much once an episode, so you can't miss it.) Huaien is being menacing in an attempt to be offputting, and Xiaobao is stubbornly refusing to be anything but charmed by it, and as soon as Huaien turns his head, Xiaobao takes advantage of the moment and plants a quick little mwah! on Huaien's cheek.

And it's SO GOOD. I said out loud, in that moment, do you know how many shows would be improved if one guy could just give another guy a little kissie on his cheek? It should be like how getting a PG-13 rating allows your movie one "fuck," but instead every c-drama gets one moment where a guy gives another guy a little peck. Not even on the lips! Like how Aragorn gets to give Boromir a farewell forehead kiss. Sometimes a scene just calls for a little kissie! Sometimes everything would be better if a guy could just kiss the homies!

You're thinking now of all the places you'd use your single little kissie in various dramas, aren't you? Yeah, so am I.

4. side pairs side pairs side pairs~

Yeah, main couple, true love, happily ever after, whatever. SIDE PAIRS SIDE PAIRS SIDE PAIRS [banging rhythmically on table]

You know the genre, so you know there's always going to be That One Guy that threatens to steal the pure-hearted one away from the psycho by being handsome, rich, well-intentioned, and generally emotionally stable. You also know it's not going to work, because no matter how much healthier that relationship would be, it's not the tasty toxic flavor we're going for here. Anyway, sorry, Su Yin, but you never left the childhoodbestfriendzone.

That bratty prince wants to fuck his cousin so bad. His cousin is not going to fuck him, not because of cousin status, but because the bratty prince needs to be tossed out the nearest window and not let back in until he can legally drink.

I was ready to ship Jin Xiaobao's two little guard buddies -- but no! The littler of the two guard buddies has his own love interest who shows up later in the show, and I'm so upset that there's not more of these two, because that's an unexpectedly hot setup. I'll say no more; you should enjoy this one as it happens.

Now, do not presume that this is a Kinnporsche deal, where fiction has created a magical world in which every man is at least a Kinsey 2. There are still straight men in this show (and a few men who clearly think they're straight but have not yet gotten the memo) who experience varying degrees of befuddlement about the homo drama happening around them. Most characters are at least casually anti-gay, but in sort of the same way you might expect a big cattle-ranching family to react if their son started dating a vegan -- it's not unthinkable or illegal, but, like, why?

There needs to be a word for a gentler state than homophobia. Something like homobefuddlement, a social condition where falling in love with another guy is about on the level of getting a face tattoo or naming your child Optimus Prime. There's nothing stopping you, but you know somebody's roasting your ass on Ancient Chinese Fantasy Reddit.

5. A budget of three dollars and a ham sandwich

I am firmly on record as being charmed by productions that make do with skimpy resources, and Meet You at the Blossom's resources are skimpy as heck. I highly suspect this is one of those situations where if they'd known it was going get the attention that it has, they might've put more money into it from the start -- but they didn't, so they didn't.

I keep coming back to "soap opera" as a description, because that's about the production level you should be picturing here. If you played this on a TV with motion smoothing enabled, the effect would be complete. Everything is done to the cheapest possible degree. Characters legitimately toss smoke bombs and disappear like they're anime ninjas, probably because renting a fog machine has got to be way less expensive than the rigs for wirework. That's the type of shoestring budget we're talking here.

The greenscreen is Not Good, my friends. I mean, not that you expected it to be, but however far you've lowered your expectations already, lower them more.

They got to borrow a brothel set for like half an hour. It's the most people you see in a single room at the same time, and it represents drunkenness by spraying raspberry soda over all the lights.

If I had a nickel for every time Huaien is in some terrible predicament that seems impossible for him to get out of, and then he shows up somewhere else like two scenes later, and we never find out exactly how he got out of that terrible predicament, I would have multiple nickels in my pocket, is all I'm saying.

You know, if my wigs/beards and wig/beard glue were that bad, I would simply refrain from frequent, intense close-ups of the parts where people's fake hair joins to their faces. And if my actors all had that much foundation caked on them, I would probably refrain from close-ups, period. But that's just me.

Actually, no, there's something else about the wigs: They're styled so badly that it actually wraps around (ha ha) to being charming. I'm used to wig situations where the topknots are combed tight and oiled into place within an inch of their lives. But here, everybody who has an updo has kind of a messy one? Especially little Jinbao, where you can see the ends of his ponytail stick out the back in a scruffy fashion, giving him the vibe of a little ragamuffin who's never learned how to do up his hair quite right.

There's a plot, sort of. It's basically the thinnest possible series of excuses for the action in the show to happen, told in occasional five-minute bursts of exposition given by characters you forgot about between now and the last time they appeared. Don't worry if you can't keep track of which prince is which, or who is whose dad. Man, there's even a "curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal!" near the end that's played up as some big shock, and I was like, have we met this dude before? I think pretty much every time the grownups started talking, we stopped paying attention. Look, I know this is based on a novel I haven't read, and I'm sure the plot comes off better when it's all packed together in a couple of pages of dialogue you can skip without consequence on your way to the boy-kissing, but in the show it just comes off as perfunctory and clunky. From what I've seen, people who've read the book tend to be way more into the intricacies of the narrative, but I haven't, so I'm not.

(Wait, in the novel, Jin Xiaobao is supposed to be fat? Well, now I feel I've been robbed! ...Eh, it's fine, I'm not sad to skip a sequence where the side benefit of trauma is that you get skinny.)

All this, to me, is charming. If you demand higher production values from your entertainment, this will not be what you want. If cozying up with some low-budget tomfooloery with a big heart feels like comfort food to you, you are among friends here.

And speaking of friends, let me strongly recommend that you watch this with some, if you can, because there are parts that are just begging to get riffed on. I would not have had a tenth as much fun watching it alone as I did goofing my way through it with my wife. It is a show that is only improved by the jokes you make about it along the way. It has no dignity, nor are you obligated to treat it as though it does. Cuddle up with your buddies, grab your favorite snacks, and sharpen your shadiest claws.

Want to meet this show somewhere?

It's conveniently up in a lot of places! Pick your poison:

GagaOOLala

WeTV

iQIYI

Viki

YouTube

Look, I'm going to say it one more time for the people in the back row: This is not a serious, thoughtful portrayal of healthy relationship dynamics. If you expect it to be, you will be sorely disappointed. It is a tale of a bunch of dudes (and, like, two women) whose emotional volume knobs are stuck at eleven and emotional intelligence doesn't go above a two. Go into it knowing what you're getting into, and you might just have yourself a pretty good time.

Get that little kissie!

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Monster!Reader (Part 4)

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Manipulation, Phycological Horror, Forced Amnesia, Light Gore, Dismemberment, Obsession, Stalking, Kidnapping, Broken Limbs, Poorly translated Russian, Character Death (background), Mentions of eating people (not technically cannibalism since the reader isn’t a human), Traditionally female monsters but reader is kept GN.

A/N: I uh, got a little bit darker with this one. And I’ll give credit where credit is do. @ghouljams I didn’t do it on purpose but when I was proofreading Roach’s part I realized it sounded a lot like Threat. It was a complete fucking accident 🖐.

König - Pixie

The heat around him was suffocating him, especially with his mask on. The sweat soaking through the fabric and making it stick to his face. Troublesome, making him unable to focus on the target through the scope of the rifle. So he opted to simply tear it off, careful to keep it within reach should he need it. But he hadn’t realized that in doing so, he left himself vulnerable to the many bugs surrounding him. Mosquitoes especially, annoying little things that he had to keep smushing.

And when he felt something soft and light brush against his cheek, he didn’t even think before he smacked it, startled by the crunch of something and a cry of pain. Loud in his ear but quiet when he pulled his hand away to see….you. Clutching your bent leg, one of your shimmering wings at an odd angle, sobbing your heart out in the palm of his hand, clearly in quite a bit of pain. He panicked, forgetting the fact that this was a very weird situation and that five minutes ago he didn’t even know that pixies existed, just cooing to you and gently trying to examine you, jumping when you screamed as he brushes his fingertip against your wing.

“*Tut mir leid!” He cried, probably a bit too loudly considering the way you jumped in fear, curling in on yourself the best you could. A scared little injured mouse in the paw of the fierce lion. “It’s okay. Shh, I will help you, *Kleines Glühwürmchen. Don’t be afraid. *Es tut mir so leid.”

He pulled you close to his chest, shushing you even as you beat at his fingers with your tiny body, kicking with your good leg, biting, and scratching at him as he placed you in a pocket of his vest, clicking it shut so you couldn’t fall out when he moved. He still had a job to do, but he promises he’ll take care of you afterwards! Bandage you up and get you back to perfect health again. He hoped those pretty wings of yours weren’t as fragile as they looked, hoped that they would heal so you could fly around again.

If not, well, he’d just have to keep taking care of you.

Roach - Jorōgumo

How you two met was kind of a mystery to Roach, like a haze had taken over his mind. He remembered soft lips, music, flashing lights. Did he drink? He must have. It was the only thing that could rationalize the pure confusion that night brought up. All he knew was that he woke up to you lazily stroking at his head, and it felt like coming home. Like safety and love. So fuzzy with the feeling that he doesn’t even question when you stay in his home, when you crawl into his bed at night and kiss at his neck. Just giggle when he slurs out how much he loves you, how he can’t live without you. The feeling so overpowering that nothing began to feel real except for the touch of you.

He doesn’t remember his friends anymore, his brothers in arms. Their names forgotten somewhere in the back of his mind. Sometimes the thought of them itches at him, scratches at his skull like a rat in a jar. Incessantly, loudly, painfully. He’ll ask you, voice softened by a headache that pounds in his frontal lobe, if you know what he’s forgotten. But all you do is smile and kiss his cheek, and suddenly all those worries and the pain just fade away, putting him right back into that place of cotton candy sweet happiness and love.

He doesn’t notice the near invisible strings that wrap tighter and tighter around him everyday, cinching around his neck like a noose but never really biting into him. And your eyes always sparkling with poorly hidden mirth as he scratched at his neck, asking if you saw a hair that he couldn’t get. He believes you when you say no, doesn’t question you when you lick along that same line that night.

Ignorance is bliss, and he’d do anything to stay in your arms.

Rudy - Witch

Rudy didn’t encounter you first hand for a long time but he found traces of you everywhere for months on end. Short curly hairs in his food, strange animals watching him from behind buildings and trees, and the ever present feeling of eyes watching him. Always the eyes, daggers digging into his back, reminding him of how he was never alone. Always watched. It was unnerving but also….comforting. On his loneliest nights, on his most dangerous missions, those eyes were always watching him. Keeping him company.

Some days he woke up swearing he felt the warmth of you at his side. The shape of your body denting his mattress, the weight of your arm tossed over his waist, the feel of your legs tangling with his. It was maddening as much as it was exhilarating and he couldn’t stop the wave of pure lust that rolled through him, needing to stroke his heavy and aching cock while those feelings still remained. Eyes rolling back in his head when he felt a phantom tongue lick the cum off his belly after he’d finished himself off.

But of course not everything can be so hot for Rudy. There are things that start to scare him. Nightmares of creatures looming over his bed, the vague shape of people in the dark corners of his room, sleep paralysis, and of course the sudden death or dismemberment of the people around him.

A too aggressive superior grabs his shoulder hard enough to leave bruises, and he loses that same hand in a freak accident with a shredder. A kind recruit bumps shoulders with him in the hallway and has half of her body burned during a mission. A man in a bar flirts with him and ends up dead in an alleyway, his own cock ripped off and shoved down his throat, eyes gouged out of his head, and his heart missing from his chest cavity.

That last one might be what scares Rudy most. As he’d woken up to a box on his bedside table, the vital organ still beating in the pretty red paper around it. But most horrifying was that he….wasn’t upset by it. Found his own heart swelling with affection as he reached out to touch it, feeling cold fingers creep along the back of his neck, leaving bloody trails. It felt like love sinking into his very soul.

Nikto - Rusalka

Nikto couldn’t remember how he got to the lake. Couldn’t remember why he wanted to be at the lake. But here he stood, at the water’s edge, peering into the dark depths of it, moonlight shining on the surface. Soft slow waves lapping at the tips of his boots like a dog welcoming him home. Was this home? Nothing felt like it anymore. Nothing made him feel safe and warm and comforted, all the things people described as home. Nothing but that big moon, staring down at him. The chill of the breeze nipping at his cheeks through his mask, and the gentle touch of a hand reaching out to stroke at the small patch of skin on his ankle not covered by his pants or socks.

“I’ve missed you.” He heard you whisper, and he couldn’t even bring himself to listen to the voices in his head whispering that it was a lie. Your voice somehow overpowered them. It was the only thing that did. “*Мой сладкий ягненок. Step a little closer.” You beg, voice soft and pleading, ringing in his head like the wind chimes his Babushka used to hang around her house. He couldn’t deny you.

Slowly, carefully, he stepped deeper into the water, your approving hum vibrating through his bones. Deeper and deeper he waded, but never seemed to reach you. Not until the water was at his neck, your unnaturally sharp teeth glinting just below the surface of the waves.

“*хороший мальчик.” You whispered, the words making his heart pound despite the cold’s best attempts at making his blood slow. He sighed as you cupped his cheeks, pulling him forward until his face was nestled in the crook of your neck, humming a soft lullaby in his ear. He never understood why you didn’t kill him. Why didn’t drag him down into the watery depths like so many men before him but….he was glad for it. Glad to spend another day cradled in your arms, fingers slipping under his mask to tenderly trace his scars.

And if one day you changed your mind, then he’d be just as glad to be in his watery grave. His bones lining your nest, his flesh nourishing you, his very soul haunting you for the rest of your life, your guardian forevermore. Oh, what bliss.

*Tut mir leid! = I’m sorry!

*Kleines Glühwürmchen. = Little Firefly. (Also can mean Glowworm but the intention is Firefly.)

*Es tut mir so leid. = I’m so sorry

*Мой сладкий ягненок. = My sweet lamb.

*хороший мальчик. = Good boy.

[monseulamourrr]

→ “of pink sunsets and cotton candy kisses.” || ahn yujin x reader fic.

— a nice and eventful day out with your girlfriend gives you the peace and relaxation you’ve needed for a while despite it all being unexpected…

word count: 1.3k

tags: tooth-rotting fluff once again!

requested? : nope.

a/n: this is for the wonderful @vex91 🩵🩵 this kind of came out of the blue so i hope it isn’t too messy 💔 i hope you all (especially vexie!) enjoy this one! ☺️

when your girlfriend told you that she was going to give you your well-earned rest, you thought would hand over a free admission to the local spa and massage salon or treat you to a nice dinner by the beautiful lake but then again, your girlfriend is ahn yujin. and ahn yujin was full of surprises.

she stood beside you with her eyes a million times bright than all the colourful lights that surrounded the two of you. she took note of your bewildered and utterly confused expression and laughed as she gently nudged your shoulder with her own. the smell of cinnamon and a whole lot of other sweet things start wafting into your nose, the sounds of machinery and the different music coming from numerous speakers were tantalizing despite your confusion. you turned to your girlfriend (whose eyes did not leave your face the entire time you let everything sink in) and spoke in a quiet voice, “the… fair?”

“THE FAIR!”

a couple of people turned their heads to your direction, making you slightly bow down yours as a small apology. yujin seems unaffected, however, slaps the all-you-can-ride wristband on your arm, “there was no way i was gonna let you miss this, of course! we’re gonna go on every ride, we’re gonna eat a lot of food, and we’re gonna be happy.” she said.

she pulls you aside so the two of you wouldn’t be in the middle of the pathway. yujin looked pretty under the golden lights of the giant carousel the two of you have decided to stand beside in. she takes your hands, “you’ve been wanting a break for a while. and i thought this would be fun. we don’t really do this often.” she raises your hands to your lips and gives them a soft kiss. “is this okay?” she whispers, this time with a quiver in her voice.

“are you kidding?” you smiled at her, then looked around. the entire place was bright with lights, music, energy, and happiness. this was the next best thing yujin could’ve done for you. “it’s more than enough.” and then you kissed her hands in return, grinning when she noticeably got shy.

“come on then, let’s have some fun!” yujin puts a fox ear headband on your head and a dog ear headband on her own before taking your hand and dragging you towards the nearest intense ride in the area.

it was more like yujin was going to have fun and you were going to scream your head off. she made sure to drag you to all of the scary rides. not only will she have the time of her life laughing at you but because you would hug her arm so tightly and refuse to let go the entire ride. was it worth the playful hits on the shoulder after? totally.

at least you beat her on almost all of the carnival games though. except for the ones that involved shooting balls through hoops—yujin played basketball a lot in high school, after all. she won you a lot of stuffed dolls and after the fourteenth doll, you had to drag her away from a game even though she absolutely refused. (she just really wanted to win you that giant snorlax plushie!)

last but not least, the two of you snacked on the variety of food that the fair offered! from corndogs, candy apples, rolled ice cream, shawarma, and (your personal favourite) mini donuts! yujin had insisted on sitting on one of the tables near the stage inside the fair. there was a live band that performed a variety of songs and you teased yujin about going up there and singing with them (since the band was inviting some audience members to sing and show off their talent) but she bashfully refused. always so humble about her talents!

“you’re such a messy eater.” you grabbed a napkin from your bag and wipe the ketchup from her lips (she was eating pigs in a blanket, saying that they looked too cute not to be feasted on). yujin grins while you cleaned her face up, and you couldn’t help but return the smile.

“thanks, love.” yujin says as you trashed the napkin. you pinched her cheek as a response, getting a whine in return. you then opted to watch as the band sang for the crowd, nodding your head along to the music.

(apparently, yujin much rather preferred watching you. her eyes were fixed on your face the entire time the band played. and even when you caught her staring and teased her for it, she refused to look away. happiness looked good on you. yujin wanted that feeling to be constant—even better if she were the one to make it so.)

what to do for the final hour? walk around the park right beside the fair where it was much more quiet, and where the two if you were offered some scenery as you decided to rest in the middle of a bridge. the stream underneath it ran smoothly along its path and you found joy in just staring as the sun reflected on it.

you averted your gaze from the stream to the skies above. a mix of orange, purple, and mostly pink. beautiful.

“look what i got us!” ah, speaking of beautiful. yujin approaches you with two sticks of cotton candy; hers was blue, yours was purple. “i couldn’t resist the kid that sold them. i swear this is our last snack today.” she leaned on the railing as you did, taking a bite out of the sweet stuff she had and humming in approval right after.

the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with only the sounds of the water running and the distant music accompanying you. you move closer to yujin, laying your head on her shoulder as you stared at the trees in the distance. you feel her rest her cheek on your head, and she wraps her free arm around your waist loosely to keep you close.

“did you like all of this, (y/n)?” yujin asked. you feel her thumb caressing your hip. you feel safe.

“of course. this is the best day i’ve had in a while,” you raised your head slightly. all your worries and troubles seem to just melt away when you look at yujin. “so thank you.” you lean close, laughing slightly when your foreheads bumped against each other by accident, and gave yujin a kiss so light it made her want more.

she doesn’t ask for more, she simply takes it. politely, of course. yujin tilts her head and catches your lips in a searing kiss. you giggled at her enthusiasm but you returned the affection with the same energy, your own free arm snaking around her back and clutching her sweater. her lips tasted sweet, must be the cotton candy. you liked it.

yujin pulls you closer (maybe she tasted the cotton candy on you too), never really having enough of your kiss and always needing more. a gust of wind blows towards your direction and what with yujin melting you into a puddle, your grip on your cotton candy stick loosens, making you accidentally drop it into the stream.

“shoot—sorry, yuj.” you apologized, watching as the water washed the cotton candy away along with its stick.

“it’s okay,” yujin gives you a kiss on your temple and pats your head. “we can share this one!” she said, raising her cotton candy to your face. well, with a smile like hers, how could you resist? you took a bite out of the blue cotton candy, humming in approval at its delicious blueberry flavour. yujin couldn’t resist kissing you again, making you giggle but it was welcomed.

“i’m glad you enjoyed this day, (y/n),” yujin presses her forehead against yours. “and i want to give you more days like these. if you let me.”

you laughed softly and gave her nose a small kiss, “i’m looking forward to it all, love.”

the two of you spent the rest of your time there on that bridge—warm and happy while sharing cotton candy kisses underneath the pretty, pink skies.

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King's bride 4

The announcement

⚠️CONTENT WARING: THERE WILL BE SOME MENTIONS OF PERIODS THIS CHAPTER! IT'S NOT THE WHOLE CHAPTER I'LL MARK WERE IT IS SO IF ANYONE IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT YOU CAN JUST SKIP. IT'S NOTHING GRAFFIC BUT I UNDERSTAND IF IT MIGHT MAKE SOME OF YOU UNCOMFORTABLE! ALSO FORCED KISSING FROM HERE ON OUT!⚠️ Sometimes I need to write shit for myself okay!

Two weeks had past since you'd met Charlie and Renesmee and her wife (Nina) had started to work for you. Renesmee had become a maid to you. Waking you up, helping you pick out your outfit, and she and Nina would have breakfast with you the days Lucifer didn't make you breakfast.

Nina was a tall succubus. She had cotton candy pink skin and hot pink hair, and her horns resembled a heart but they pointed outward. Nina wore a slick leather outfit with a bulletproof vest and forearm and shin pads. For a succubus Nina wasn't particularly curvy but she was very tall, 7 feet tall in fact. You didn't exactly make the best first impression with her because the first thing you said was "Dang where did the WNBA hide you?"

Other than the scowl she had on her face she was always cordial at breakfast. And she seemed to get along well enough with Pluto the head of Lucifer's security.

////////////////////////////////////////

WARNING PERIOD CONTENT AHEAD!

One morning you awoke in a pool of your own blood with a splitting pain in your abdomen.

"I'm dying." You mumbled.

"DARLING WHAT'S WRONG?" Lucifer bursts in with a puff of red smoke. He sees you on the bed dark red, almost black, on the sheets. He was in his normal outfit, minus the hat, jacket and cane.

"I'm so glad I used your old shirt as my pajama's last night." You mumbled and got up. "Did- Charlie is half angel."

"Yes?"

"But then again Lilith was human wasn't she? Well you do know what a period is. Do you have anything to deal with this?"

"Oh your uh- I'll have someone clean up the sheets and blankets. How about I run a bath for you and make you some food?" 

"I'll go run a bath and if you decide to make me food you can have Renesmee or Styx deliver it."

"Nonsense! And let them see your body, especially before I get to? Unthinkable. Why are you so mean to me?"

"You're the one who caused this asshole.

"Well now we know when you're ovulating, next month I can take care of this problem for you~" You rush to the bathroom and lock the door. "Think about it! For nine months you would get to eat whatever you wanted and you wouldn't have to deal with a period~"

"Please just get me some pain meds and pads!"

Before you appeared a light pink bottle and a glass. Outside the door you hear a big thud and when you crack the door you see packets of every type of hygiene product you might need. Tampons, pad with and without wings, thin and thick. You name it it was in there.

"At least he's not asking me what size pussy I wear." You rolled your eyes.

(A/n: That's so Adam core, I miss him so much. ;-;)

////////////////////////////////////////

OKAY IT'S OVER

You get out of the tub and wrap a towel around you and step into your room to change into some sweatpants and a zipper hoodie.

"You uh... you look comfy." You quickly turn around and see Lucifer standing in the doorway, pancakes in his hands. His cheeks were even more red then the clown circles he has.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"I-I didn't see anything! Really! You just look so comfy. I never got to see Lilith in anything that didn't show off her curves so seeing my bride to be in something that looks so soft is... different. A good different for sure! Can I... can I have a hug please? I just want to feel how soft it is."

"No."

He rolls his eyes. He walks over to a little mahogany table between the bed and the bathroom. Couches on either side. "You know, I don't get you. I've given you everything you could ask for and more. But you don't seem to care. You just sit around in the library or in your room all day. You're not trying to get to know me like you claim. And another thing, I know that you're not traditional. I may not know what your reason for telling these lies is but I know when you lie."

'That's right. One of his epithets is the father of lies.'

"Thank you for what you've done for me this morning. But I'd like to be left alone." 

"As you wish darling." He takes his leave. 

Nina and Renesmee walked in and you sat on one of the couches to eat the pancakes that Lucifer made for you. Renesmee cleaned up the room and you looked at her. "Hey do you need any help?"

"Miss please we go through this every day. I'm your maid, and I'm sure the king would prefer if you didn't lift a finger."

"I don't care what the king says. I don't want you to overwork yourself."

"I'm fine miss. I'm much more equipped to be a maid than my position in my old job. I'm quick and I like rolling around on the janitor cart."

"I still feel bad. I've never had a maid in my life. On top of that the king is okay with this unfair social system where Imps are looked down upon simply because of how they were born. I'm not going to participate in that just because it's how the way things are."

"Ahem!" Styx Calls from the doorway. "Sorry to interrupt but the king has sent some files over regarding the Halloween ball that will be held at the end of the month. He also sent a note. 'Sorry to drop this on you doll but Lilith was usually the one to handle planning the events we hosted. I've sent over everything we have regarding past years, please see to it by the end of the day and if you could select one of the couples costumes I've chosen for us to wear.' "

You took the files from them and looked through them. "Thank you Styx... here this is the costume I want." You hand a photo to them and start looking through the other files. You spend the rest of the day getting it ready, with the help of Renesmee and Nina of course. Ordering decoration, hiring a caterer, hiring temporary staff to help attendants, renting furniture, booking a band, and making a guest list.

"Do you guys think they'll play monster mash?" You ask the women.

"I don't know what that is, miss." Renesmee shook her head.

"Human music my love." Nina said monotonously.

"What do you think you two will wear?"

"Oh! uh..." Renesmee looked away bashfully.

"We're not coming." Nina said in the same tone.

"What? Why?" You asked disappointed.

"We get one night off we're not spending it at work." Nina glared at you.

"Okay, you don't have to come. I just thought it would be fun to have you two there." You dropped the issue.

////////////////////////////////////////

At the end of the month you (unwillingly) got ready for the party. You put on a short red dress with a sweetheart neckline and an under bust corset, along with a small white waist apron. Several stylists crowd around you. Lucifer had cast an illusion on you earlier that day to transform you identically to how you looked the day you went to the mall with him. One of the stylists curled your hair, one worked on your nails, one worked on your make-up (applying bright red lipstick and such) and the last was supervising and communicating with Lucifer's stylists.

"No Sharron! I told you we cannot compromise on the ears. Madam Rouge personally made these designs, she's going to be there tonight, and if everything is not to her liking she is going to have a fit.

...

Well the king should have thought about that before he ordered it.

...

If he thinks it embarrassing maybe HE should have picked out the costume.

...

That's not my problem, Sharron. Madam Rogue isn't going to accept excuses, especially not "He was trying to make her more comfortable".

...

Like I JUST SAID Sharron. If the king thinks the faux fur ears are itchy he has to deal with it.

...

I don't care if he's the king Sharron! Fine if you're being a pussy I'll deal with it. Put him on the phone."

"I can deal with it ma'am."

"Would you? Thank you sweetheart, you're such a gem." She mutes the phone for a second. "Keep this between you and me, I prefer you over Lilith. That lazy bitch would NEVER have dealt with His Majesty when he's having one of his temper tantrums." You take the phone and un mute him as she keeps rambling. "He's worse than Vox and Val I swear. I don't care what Velvette says, that bitch is a liar, or she gives herself too much credit."

(A/n: Velvette and Vox! My BBGs❤️ Fuck Valentino! he's a piece of💩)

"Hi." You say into the unmuted receiver. "How are you?"

"Hi Darling! Everything is fine but the ears and gloves are kind of itchy. I'm glad that Rogue didn't insist on something weird for the tail like a-"

"Okay! Okay! That's enough. Look I know it might be uncomfortable but it's just for one night."

"I want a kiss for being good then."

"Fine. I'll see you in five'"

"Bye Darling~"

About an hour into the night you left Lucifer talking to some of his friends to go find some food. He wore all gray with wolf ears, claws, and a tail (attached to a belt; a tight leather one-piece with a faux fur collar; and some boots. You brought your red hood over your face to try to ward of lingering eyes trying to catch a peak at Lucifer's new bitch.

You looked back to the couple that he was talking to. An Imp almost his height with a green jester cap and a black and white stripped suit; paired with a tall demon with three faces dressed in a big ruffled red dress that had an open shirt in the front with pants.

You wandered around, looking at other people's costumes and trying to find the snack bar. That Madam Rouge lady had dressed up as Glenda from the wizard of Oz. There was a guy with a TV head who was dressed up like batman in the corner making out with a tall guy dressed up as the Joker. With a girl dressed up as Harley Quinn filming the whole thing.

You looked away and saw Charlie in a Green shirt with a big M on it and a matching tutu and bow and a girl next to her with gray skin and white hair dressed identically but in brown.

You wanted to make your way over to them but as soon as Charlie saw you she ran. You followed her to try and explain yourself. To try and see if she could get you out of Hell. 

"That's her Vaggie!"

"Hun calm down."

"Dad's breaking all the rules for a woman he just met!"

"We don't know that."

"Vaggie! She's human! Living human souls aren't allowed in either of the afterlife's. My mom had to be turned into the first Succubus to even survive in Hell. This is breaking so many conventions. If he makes a deal for a soul he has to devour the person's soul or kill them and drag them to hell. He has a living human with him!"

'He certainly wants to devour me but not in the way you think Charlie.' you think.

"Maybe it's a misunderstanding. You could ask him."

"How can I ask him about her after I blew up at him!? How could he take a girl so young to be his wife? Vaggie she's so young she could be my grand kid!"

"Yeah but you've been alive for thousands of years Charlie. I don't think normal rules apply here."

"I just... wish that she had more time to experience independence before being thrust into this."

"He seems happy." This Vaggie girl said.

"I suppose. And I want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy. And she did invite us. Maybe she wants this. Okay. I'll go apologize to dad and tell him he has my blessing.

'Abort mission! Abort Mission!' You turn and run. You run so far away from the ball room you realize you've found yourself at the guest bathrooms.

"Wow! Hello cutie~" you turn around and see a man dressed as a vampire. "May I just say I love the costume! You're Luci's girl huh? What made you two want to be little red ridding hood and the big bad wolf."

"I felt it fitting. Him being a predator and me being his victim."

"Okay that turned dark real quick. Sold your soul to him huh?"

"No. I was sacrificed, by someone I thought was my friend."

"Oof. That's tough."

"I want to get away from him so badly." You confess. "I'm tired of him love bombing me steady."

"Maybe I can help. The names Agamemnon! I'm an up and coming overlord of Hell You sell your soul to me and I'll make sure you never have to talk to him again." He holds out his hand.

"Deal." You take his hand without thinking about it for even a second.

He takes off your cape, draping it over his arm and wraps his coat around you.

He led you through the ballroom toward the exit, and just when you are at the desolate foyer you two are blinded by a bright flash and when the light fades you look to Agamemnon and see that he is no longer standing nest to you, a pile of dust in his place, covering your red cape. You look back and see a seething Lucifer. His horns popped out, a small flame burning in between them, a halo surrounding his horns. His eyes were red, and he has puffing out smoke from his huffs.

He walked up to you and ripped off the coat burning it to ashes in an instant. He pulled the red cape back on you and grabbed on your wrist. "How DARE you! You sold your soul to a filthy SINNER? I've tried to be good. I've tried to seduce you. I've let you have your space. I've spoiled you. I was willing to give you time to fall in love with me. And yet apparently it hasn't been good enough for you. You know what? No more! You will be my wife, you will have my children, and you will LOVE ME!!" He pulled you back to the ball room. "If you say anything in there to ANYONE I'll kill your entire fucking family." He burst in and pulled you up on stage with him. "Attention everyone!" He smiled and continued. "We have an exciting announcement for you all! My beautiful bride and I are getting married in six months!" Your blood ran cold. For trying to run away he cut your time to escape in half. He knows what you're trying to do, but he needs time to prepare a wedding. He just got back into Charlie's good graces so he can't rush a wedding and mess things up.

For the rest of the night You stood next to him, his arm gripping your waist in a death grip, getting congrats and passive aggressively asking for an invitation.

"Hi..." Charlie came up to you and her dad. "I know that we didn't start off on the wrong foot, I've apologized to dad but I'd like to apologize to you as well."

"No that's okay. I grew up on the evil stepmom trope. I wouldn't blame you if you tried to shoot me with a shotgun but accidentally shot your dad and tried to frame me. I get it."

"Okay?"

"Have you never seen legally blonde?"

"No?"

"Oh, sorry to spoil the ending then."

"Anyway, I'm happy to have you join the family." She pulled you in for a hug. You hugged back as to not piss off Lucifer any more than you already had.

After the party Lucifer carried you to his room. you protested profusely and he threw you onto the bed. He held you down and snapped his fingers as your costume swapped into that of one of your night gowns. Your costume laid forgotten on his bed floor. He threw off his clothes and stayed in his boxers. "Don't get this twisted. This is not fun sexy times. I'm boing to hold you here tonight to make sure you understand that YOU. ARE. MINE."

"okay..." You nodded obediently. He pulled the covers over you both and wrapped his arm around you. His chest to four back.

"Goodnight doll. I hope you have sweet dreams of me~"

You said nothing as you cried yourself to sleep.