#I'll go on a whole ass rant about him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junedenim · 3 months ago

Text

your velveteen suit

part one part two part three

if you've fucked him, might as well do it on your terms

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, begging, fine dining, pie for dessert, squirting, oh, and a little angsty

word count: 4.2k

You're wearing pigtails in your hair. Two barely there braids, unraveling at their center. It's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. He's supposed to be reading these reports but you're in the kitchen, wearing his old university hoodie, and it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. You're the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen.

You've made a mess of the kitchen. You bang the rolling pin and the flour scatters more, puffs of dust shooting up in the air. You're making Christmas cookies, well, attempting it. Since you're not going home for Christmas this year and despite the whole office getting a holiday break, Alex will be working through it, you want a taste of Christmas. So, you want Christmas cookies.

"Do you have any cookie cutters?" You turn around and ask, flour smeared on your cheek.

He's smiling, can't help but fucking smile. He shakes his head.

You frown. "Should've thought of that before making the dough."

"Do you want to go out and get some?" He asks.

You sigh, "No, I'll get creative." You proceed to take out a knife from the block and work away on your sketches.

And he lets you work and even manages to get a couple of peeks down at those reports of his. But then you put them in the oven and exhale a sound of relief.

"C'mere." He motions for you to come over to him sitting at the table.

You drag your feet across the floor and he grabs your hand, sitting you on his lap. He starts kissing your neck, moving all around the column with little care in the world. "Alex, you whine, pushing his mouth off of you.

"You want to do something special?" His smile is mischievous and his grip on you grows tighter.

You roll your eyes. "I am not doing a sex tape, Alex."

He chuckles. It was brought up once, about a week ago, and he said as a serious suggestion for his Christmas present but when you got mad and ranted about how violating it was, he claimed it was a joke. "No. I'm talking about doing something special for the holidays since it'll be just you and me."

"Who says that?"

"Because your gift to me is a little getaway trip."

"I thought you had to work."

"I can get a weekend away. We could stay here too. Doesn't matter as long as I get to fuck your brains out the whole weekend."

You gag, "Yuck." You stand up from his lap, tugging out of his tight hold. "You're so vulgar."

His hands turn your body around to face him. He peers up at you through tempting eyes. "I thought that's what you like about me."

You bend down and kiss the tip of his nose. "I'm going to go make the icing."

As you walk away, he slaps your ass making you screech. "You can do that later," he argues.

"We can do whatever you want to do later too. I thought you had all this work to do that's why you couldn't help me make the cookies."

Alex stands from the table, walking over to you. "No, I'm a terrible cook, that's why I couldn't help you with the cookies." He leans forward on you, trapping you in a cage with his arms against the counter.

"Excuses, excuses," you click your tongue.

He moves closer, you can feel his hot breath on you, coating all over you. He's intoxicating. "You calling me a liar." He's right up against your ear, whispering, leaning closer, kissing just behind your ear.

"I have to watch the cookies," I argue.

"I like them a little burnt," he mutters into your neck.

You don't put up a fight, instead chastising him, "Alex."

"Don't act like you don't want it." His voice is low, husky, and treacherous.

But you give in, letting Alex crowd into your space, pushing a thigh between your legs. He yanks the hoodie off, bending down and tonguing your nipple and you gasp louder. "Fuck, Al."

"I want to bend you over that counter." Alex pulls you forcefully towards him turning you around and shoving you down onto the kitchen counter.

Your breasts feel the chill of the counter and turn your head back, biting your lip. "What about what I want?" You tease.

Alex shakes his head. "You want this." He reaches his thumb out, pulling your bottom lip from your teeth. "Don't you?" His hand drags its way down your spine, reaching your ass, clad in his boxers. "Say you want it." He squeezes a cheek tightly and he knows just what makes you break and what makes you bend, and he's fully intent on getting his way.

You make eye contact with him and his gaze burrows itself into you. "I want it."

"What? What do you want?"

You look at him and he's gotten a little flour on his chin. You reach back, twisting yourself to grab his chin and wipe the spot away. His skin is soft and he's soft and it's insane how gentle he seems when he's being so rough. He grabs your hand before you can take it back and he kisses the back of it. It's a blessed passion. He releases your hand delicately. "Well, aren't you going to fuck me?" You finally answer.

He slips right back into his role. "That's what you want, huh?"

"Yeah," you say cheerfully. "I want you to fuck the shit out of me."

Alex seems overcome by this. He pushes your head down to prevent you from moving so much. You follow orders for now and keep it there as he pulls down the boxers, exposing you. He runs his fingers through you and doesn't bother with much more after he feels the wetness of you. He murmurs, "Fuck."

You hear his belt come undone and the cold metal of the buckle touches your right ass cheek as he pulls his pants down. He moves your hips, sticking your ass out more, his touch making you shiver. He slaps your ass, more purposefully than when he lightly did it earlier. It makes you jump and you'd ask him to do it again if it didn't make power go to his head and threaten your cookies getting burnt.

Alex gave his hard cock a few quick strokes. "Do you know how hot you look right now?"

You meet his eyes and smile at him as you continue to stroke his cock. This seems to move something in him as he moans and moves his hand quicker. "Are you going to put that thing in me?"

He hits the bottom of your butt cheek. "You want to beg for it now?"

You put your head down silently, not saying a word. But then you have to suck a breath in when he touches your clit, rubbing it lightly, reverently even. Alex knows just the right moves to make and it would be infuriating how well he knew how you moved now if it didn't bring you so much pleasure. And, then his mouth is on you, traveling up and down, purposefully avoiding your clit like he gave you a taste of pleasure just to dangle it in front of you for the rest of time.

Alex then has his tongue buried deep inside of you. It moved over the entrance and all around your insides, making you squirm and pant and gasp and moan. You're writhing and pushing against his tongue and you can practically feel him smirk into you. The warmth of his mouth leaves you. You want to whine but you know how cocky he'll be so you bite it back, and lay her head down into your hand.

He stands up and moves his hand over your ass, feeling your soft skin again. He lines himself up with your center slowly. The first push is overwhelming. You're desperate for more contact and although you're not begging, Alex can feel your body beg. He is taking his sweet time.

The push was slow and torturous. Alex's grip tightens on your hips as he pushes in, enough to let a bruise make a memory of this. You clench around him and he gasps and leans forward, pushing further into you impossibly fast. "Fuck," you both moan and groan.

Alex rolls his hips languidly and dirty at first, teasing and coaxing you to move your own. You push back on him, creating pressure pulling him in deeper, harder. Your eyes roll back when he suddenly snaps his hips once and pure, unadulterated pleasure shoots through you.

Alex leans down, his clothed chest rubbing against your bare back. He asks in your ear, "You really like that, huh?" Your bodies move back and forth in a way that could make your skin chafe.

His thrusts became harder and faster with each passing minute. You can't help but emit dirty moans and curses.

Alex pushes you down onto the counter to prevent your erratic movement. "God, you're so hot like this. Everyone must want to fuck you all the time, right? But they don't get to."

"Only you do," you answer before he even asks because you're desperate and so close and he's so fucking hot too and only you get to fuck him.

"Fuck," he groans at your response. He gives his hips a sharp snap. "Do you know what that does to me? What you do? Fuck!" His thrusts become more rushed and rough as everything closes in.

"I'm coming," you tell him as you feel the stirring at the pit of your stomach reach a boiling point.

Alex moves hard. "Me too. Yeah."

You wrap tightly around him, closing in on his cock. You cry out a moan as you clamp like a vise around Alex. He shoves himself deep in you, wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging himself deep into you as he comes. You feel him, all around, in you. His hand lands on the arch of your back and his hair tickles you. You don't want him to move and he doesn't want to move so you stand like that with him buried in you. Then, the oven timer goes off.

"Shit, don't move," Alex begs.

"The beeping is annoying," you complain.

He removes one of his arms and reaches over as far as he can to shut it off before returning to his old position. It's quiet and peaceful. The room smells of sweat, sex, cookies, and him and it might be your favourite scent ever.

"Fuck," he groans. You can feel his nose nudge up against you. "How do people ever get any work done? Did your past partners get fired from their jobs because they didn't show up at work to fuck you all day?"

You giggle. "Not that I'm aware of."

"What fucking idiots?"

He packs 2 sugar cookies into his lunch and stares at them for a while. You chuckle at him in the office kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of tea. "They're not that special," you tell him.

The cheery snowman smiles at him and the sloppy snowflake you attempted is his favourite color. "I can admire them," he tells you. He doesn't want to eat but then again it's a cookie and he already had a few the night before and they're really fucking good.

"I think you can afford to eat a couple, boss," Gunner comments as he walks in, slapping the tops of Alex's shoulders.

Alex's brows furrow as Gunner walks over to the fridge. "Huh?"

"You know," Gunner's voice shakes, "like you're a fit guy. I-I mean, you're in good shape for someone your age."

You giggle into your tea. Gunner is sweating bullets and Alex's face is contoured to mess with him. Alex stands from the table. "Think I'll eat the rest of my lunch in my office."

When Alex leaves, Gunner lets out a deep breath. "That guy scares the shit out of me."

"He's just messing with you," you reassure Gunner as you take a sip.

Gunner sighs. "He probably thinks I was coming onto him or something."

You laugh and leave Gunner to his paranoia, heading toward Alex's office. He's taken a bite out of the snowman, now headless. "Lock the door," he tells you.

He's cheery but not flirtatious. You squint your eyes but comply. "Why?"

"'Cause I want to talk to ya. Come here." He taps the edge of his desk so you walk over to his side of the desk. He takes you off guard and pushes you up so you're sitting on his desk, atop one of his reports. He grabs your hanging legs and places them on his thighs, your kitten heels pressed down on his trousers.

"I'm not having sex in here."

Alex sighs and leans back in his chair. His hand moves up and down your leg, going from your ankle joint to under the first inch of your skirt. "Yeah, yeah. I have a question for you."

He grabs your waist and pulls you forward. "Yes?"

Instead, he kisses you. You can taste the sugar from the icing on his lips and he can taste the honey from your tea on yours. It's impassioned and soft, you half expect rose petals to fall from the sky.

You pull away with a smack of your lips, leaning back on the palms of your hands. "You had a question, mister."

He taps your kneecap. "Okay. Well, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the office's Christmas party."

Something catches in your throat. "Like...together?"

"Yeah." He's not making eye contact. He's staring at your shoes and pulling with the straps on the left one.

"No."

"Okay." His eyes don't look up and he drops your feet, nearly making you fall off the desk.

You stand up straight, steadying yourself. "What did you think I would say?"

"Whatever, just forget it." He acts like a brooding teenager. His arms are crossed and he refuses any chance at looking him directly.

This whole thing is out of the blue, to say the least. "I can't—I can't do that. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah." He's calm, rising from his chair. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's fine and it's a lovely thought but I thought we talked about this."

He walks over toward the door and you think he's leaving. "Yeah. Understood." But he opens the door and holds it, gesturing for you to walk out.

Your eyes widen. "You're serious?"

He gestures again.

You're irritated by him. The way his hair falls, his suit fits, and his eyes bore into you. You don't have anything to say, so you leave, arms crossed, and shoes clicking, your left one slightly unbuckled.

You don't go over to his house that night and he doesn't go to your flat. You avoid each other the next day at work, which is easy, you just spend all day in your cubicle and he doesn't leave his office.

The office's Christmas party is a different story. You show up late due to traffic and he seems to be several drinks in already. He's dressed like he just came from work, which in all likelihood he did.

He's talking to Elizabeth, nodding along to whatever she's saying but his eyes are stuck on you, dressed in red silk that more would say resembles the devil than Christmas. Your eyes are stuck on looking at anything but him.

You partake in the free appetizers and stand by the bar, fiddling with a drink so it looks like you're busy. Or busy waiting. He finds you there, maybe because he wants another drink or maybe because he wants you. It's silence and he waits for his scotch to be refilled.

You allow your gaze to fall on him and his eyes steady on the bottles of liquor on the other side of the bar. "You look nice," you say, an olive branch.

Alex clears his throat and rubs his nose. "Thanks." The crackles of Christmas music pass through and you fiddle with the lime on the edge of your glass. He looks over at your downcast eyes. "You look pretty too. Beautiful."

It still makes you blush, even after the childish fight, he shoots right through you. "Thanks."

He sighs heavily and leans down on the bar, rubbing his face. "I'm sorry about the other day. I just got in my own head."

"It's okay," you absolve.

He shakes his head. "I don't know why, I'm just sensitive about that kind of stuff."

"Rejection?"

"I guess."

You nod. "I can tell."

"How?" He's eager to know.

You turn to face him more clearly and he sits down on the barstool next to you. "You're a people pleaser. You're working through the holiday so Ed can take off and you overcompensate for so much because you live in fear that one day he'll turn you away and all your hard work will be for nothing."

He looks down at himself as if he's trying to examine his body. "I suppose." He sips from his glass.

"And," you exhale, "I'm not an idiot I remember when you used to come to these things with her." Her that you don't ever talk about her but sometimes Alex will be telling a story and he'll hit a point where she's involved and he tries to work his way around it without mentioning her.

"That's not what the other day was about," he insists.

You shrug. "Maybe, but you were bent out of shape at the idea you'd come to this alone."

He shakes his head and crosses his brows. "No. I wanted to come here with you."

"I believe you." Part of you wishes you came together too and then went home together. "But you know we can't do that."

"Yeah. I just got lost in a fantasy." He's staring off into the distance like he's looking at that old vision you thought of so he can show it to you.

"That's fine." You lean over and place your hand on his shoulder. His face turns to you and you're so close you almost want to kiss it and pass it off to everyone in the office as a drunk thing. Instead, you whisper, "We could do something else."

"Like what?"

You ask, "Christmas party is when the interns hook up, did you know that?" He shakes his head. "Last year, I caught Henry, that geeky one, and Stephanie, the one who always had her bra straps out, fucking in the coatroom."

"So, am I you're Henry?"

"I mean, you could be Steph if you want."

"Where are your bra straps?" His fingers trail around your shoulder fronts, only touching and seeing the dress strap.

"I'm not wearing a bra."

"Do you do shit like that just to get a rise out of me?"

You laugh at him because he's goofy, running his hands through his roughed-up hair and eyeing you up and down saliciously. "Not intentionally."

You're not stuffed in the coat closet, that's too public. You're stuffed in a cleaning closet that smells like wet mop. He shuts the door and you yank on the lightbulb. You're both illuminated lightly and it's the kind of light when you pass the flashlight around and hold it under your face and tell ghost stories.

Alex doesn't pounce right away, which shocks you. Instead, he stands by the door with his hands on his hips.

You hike up the short skirt of your dress. "Do you wanna see?"

Alex just nods, eyes fixated between your legs and you give him a coy smile as you tug your panties down and step out of them. You pull it back like a slingshot and launch it over by Alex who manages to catch it with a chuckle. "Your turn."

Alex shrugs off his suit jacket and places it over the broken office chair.

"No fair!" You call out.

He shakes his head. "It's not my fault you dress so skimpy to a Christmas party."

You gasp. "I think you'll find you like it when I dress skimpy."

"Yeah." He strides over and kisses you. Hot on the mouth, right to your core. His fingers travel down and he pushes your dress's skirt back up.

"Do you want me to play with your clit? Huh?" He brushes his finger over the swollen flesh, your hips jerking in response. He chuckles and it's so pleasurable you laugh a little at the sounds you make.

Alex shifts down and places his mouth directly on your heat. It's forceful and unforgiving, making your legs shaky and you grip the shelves for balance. He sucks sloppily on your clit, his tongue rubbing along the underside.

"Such a pretty cunt," Alex murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "You know that right? That no one has a pretty cunt like you." His words against make you writhe. "So slutty and wet for me." He licks broadly up the center. You throb under his touches and licks and still want more. He slips three fingers inside, taking a few seconds to stretch you before fucking them in harshly, pounding against his pussy.

He laps over your clit as he thrusts his fingers inside, pressing upward and making you moan. The heat inside you is building quickly, his fingers curling into the skin of his thighs. You clench under his fingers, lost completely.

"Oh fuck, Al, I'm close—"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Me touching this filthy pussy?" He's harsh with his words, even harsher with his actions as he fucks in faster and flicks his tongue restlessly over your swollen clit until you cry out sharply, feeling everything burst inside you.

Your back arches as you come, head tipped back and exposing the long line of your throat. Alex's face stays buried against your pussy, his nose brushing against your mound. You feel yourself gush, making you pull Alex's head off of you. "Fuck, I've never done that before."

Alex looks up with a cocky chuckle and his button-up is slightly soaked. "Did you squirt or pee on me?"

You whack his shoulder. "Shut up."

"What?" He laughs really getting a kick out of himself. "At least we have a mop."

You hit him again when he gestures toward the dirty mop. He only continues to laugh. "It was not that funny and I didn't even do that much."

He hugs your hips and places his chin on your stomach, looking up at you. "I'm just making jokes. I'm happy."

You comb your fingers through his hair. "Me too."

He beams, wide and proud. "Good. I would do anything to make you happy."

"Really?"

"Yes."

You pull him up and undone his belt. He gets the message and tugs down his trousers and underwear. You take his cock in your hand and give him a few pumps, rubbing him against your pussy.

"You want me to fuck you?" He asks. He pushes the head teasingly against the clench of your hole, the fat head slick and messy with precum and your wetness.

His cock is right there and it's close, so fucking close to being inside you. You throb at the thought, eyeing the thickness of his cock and that familiar stretch. Alex starts to push inside at an achingly slow pace, watching the way you grip around the head of his cock, stretching to take him in. He's a little more than halfway in when he pulls out completely and smirks.

You roll your eyes. "I thought this was about what I want."

Alex chuckles. "Alright, then do your worst."

You stare at him, teasing you, making you give into him because giving into him makes you happy. "Just fuck me, okay?"

"Deal." His lips are rough on yours and his hard cock brushes against your stomach.

Finally, he pulls back and lines himself up, thrusting in sharply the first few times, rocking his hips as he becomes entranced with the tight pull and grip. "Fuck, you know how fucking good—"

You cover your hand around his mouth and shake your head. "None of that," you insist. "Just look at me."

Alex nods and he becomes slower, more intimate, and intently instead of rough and sloppy. You wonder if two people have ever made love in a broom closet. You doubt anyone had made love at the office Christmas party. It's loving and tender but you're impatient. "You can go faster," you whisper.

His eyes are worthy of falling into completely. You don't know how he doesn't get lost in his own appearance sometimes. How his not staring at himself in the mirror for hours because you could stare at him for hours. "Okay," he says softly.

He doesn't start pounding into you, but he moves quicker with more purpose of reaching an ending. He reaches down and starts rubbing your clit and you feel yourself tense up and you begin to moan louder and more frantic. He's sweating, his hairline damp, and muscles straining the sleeves of his shirt as he grips your hips tightly.

"Fuck—fuck, oh," you cry out, falling over.

He grunts, "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

"Come in me." Your face burns at how desperate you sound but he listens. His breath is ragged and his movements jerky as he draws the last of energy out, emptying into you.

Alex takes a deep breath, pulling out of you. He still has your panties and you can feel him dripping slowly out of you.

He opens his eyes and smiles a satiated smile at you. "I think we should go home. Your flat. Since you have the cookies."

But you know he says it because it's what you would prefer. And, for that sacrifice, you love him.

a/n: well...part 5?

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #junedenim #alex turner #the business

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aothotties · 6 months ago

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Telling Suguru you want a baby

You laid in bed with your boyfriend watching a movie with him as this was the first night in weeks you’ve spent together. Work was kicking both of your asses and you barely had time to relax so you took advantage of this moment.

The movie showed a cute family with an adorable little girl and you looked over at Suguru

“Awe we should have a baby” you said jokingly

He turned his head and looked at you

“Seriously?” he asked

“No haha im just kidding” you responded

You both continued to watch the movie in silence until it was over but little did you know, you little “joke” rang in his head all night

The thing about Suguru is he loves kids and if it was up to him you’d already have one. He spent the rest of the night thinking about starting a family with you

The next day he walked up to you while you were getting ready for work and stood next to you looking at you in the mirror

“What? You asked while trying to hide a smile

“Throw your birth control away” he said plainly

You had no words as you were completely shocked. You didn't even know how to respond to him

“Suguru what-”

He cut you off

“You heard me, throw it away. I'm ready to have a baby” he said

“Are you forreal?” you responded

“Yes,” he said “i've been thinking about what you said last night and honestly it's not a joke to me, i want a baby”

You just stared at him, confused and shocked. You had thought about having kids with him but never though he was ready which is why you were on birth control in the first place

“Um..okay then” you said as you reached for the medicine cabinet.

You pulled out the pack of pills and tossed them in the trash can. You looked up and saw Suguru with a smile on his face. He kissed you and let you finish getting ready for work.

You spent the whole day at work with the conversation on your mind and you couldn't decide if you were scared or excited. You decided you were going to talk more about it when you got home.

As you pulled in the driveway you let out a big sigh and headed in the house

When you walked in all the lights were out, which was odd but figured he may just be asleep. You headed toward your bedroom but you noticed flower petals on the floor.

You followed the petals all the way into the bedroom and opened the door to a surprise. The room and bed were covered in flower petals, there were candles lit and a bottle of champagne and two glasses on the bed. You looked all over for Suguru but couldn't find him

You saw a note on the bed that said

“Take a bath and put on the new lingerie I got you that's in the bathroom. I love you, see you soon”

You smiled and headed to the bathroom to wash up. After the hot bath you slipped on the red lingerie that laid on the counter and admired your body for a minute then you walked back out into the bedroom to see him lying on the bed in a pair of red silk boxers that matched the lingerie you had on.

“Glad you're off work, Hun” he said in a low tone as he patted the spot on the bed next to him

“Sugu, what's all of this” you asked as you crawled next to him

“Oh nothing” he said “just wanted tonight to be special”

“For what” you asked

“I'm going to get you pregnant tonight”

You almost choked on your spit

“Suguru..i mean i only missed today's dose i probably can't get pregnant now it might take a while for the medicine to leave my system i-”

He lifted his hand in the air to stop your rant

“ i'm going to try today, tomorrow, and everyday after that until you're carrying my baby”

You were stunned and had nothing to say in response. You were so caught off guard but you knew he meant every word

You looked over at him and he pulled out a little box

“Marry me, Y/N. and have all my babies and spend the rest of forever with me” he said as he pulled the ring out

Tears welled up in your eyes as he slipped the ring on your finger. You leaned over to give him a kiss

“Of course i'll marry you, Suguru” you said as you tried to pull away

He grabbed the back of you neck and pulled you back in. he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue in your mouth

As you kissed you crawled over on top of him as he laid back on the bed.

You began grinding on top of him feeling him harden in the silk boxers he was wearing

He groaned into your mouth from the sensation and you moaned from the small friction on your cunt. You continued to rock your hips on top of him and his hands made their way to your plump ass giving them a squeeze

He flipped you over so that he was now on top and continued kissing you passionately. His hands roamed over your body and you felt yourself get hot from the excitement

His thumbs hooked under the lace thong you had and and he slid them down your thighs. He positioned his face right in front of you now throbbing cunt

He dipped his head down and placed a soft kiss on your swollen bud. You hands made their way to his long hair

“Sugu-mm” you whined

He started sucking on your clit and your back arched off the bed. He began lapping at your cunt, wet squelching noise ringing like music to his ears

“Tastes so good, sweetheart” he said as he continued lapping at your cunt

You felt that familiar feeling pooling in your gut. The way he was licking and sucking on you had you on a high, you gripped his hair and closed your eyes as your hips bucked against his face

He slipped a finger inside you and started rubbing at your g-spot

Your legs shook and your orgasm broke causing you to squirt on his face. He licked up every drop and came back up to kiss you again

You tasted your own sweetness on his tongue and moaned. You unclipped your bra, fully exposing yourself to your now fiance.

“It's like looking at a goddess,” he said as his eyes scanned your whole body.

He stood up and removed his boxers. He crawled in between your legs and lined himself up to your soaked hole. He used his tip to slide up and down your folds before sliding just the tip in

He threw his head back from how good it felt and sunk himself inside you. His hips started moving back and forth causing him to slide in and out rubbing on that sensitive g-spot

He took his time with you, enjoying every inch of your gummy walls squeezing around him.

“You're perfect for me, princess” he said as his tip brushed your cervix.

You tried to say something in response but all you could do was moan his name over and over. You started to beg him to speed up but he refused wanting to enjoy your body all night

Sweat formed on his forehead as he continued rocking his hips into you. You felt another orgasm forming and gripped onto his back leaving marks. He was groaning in your ear saying your name and whimpering from how good it felt to be inside you

He was in heaven, tears started forming in his eyes from how good this felt

You wrapped your legs around his torso trapping him in. he continued fucking you slowly with sweat and tears running down his face

“This feels so good baby. I love you” he said

“I love you too Suguru” you whined in response

He took your legs and put them on his shoulders the new angle causing him to reach deeper

You were over the edge and you orgasm spilled out and you felt his grip your thighs from how hard you were spasming around his dick

He pulled out for a second to catch his breath but before you could whine from the loss of pleasure he sunk into you again still fucking you at a slow pace

This went on for hours, Suguru never sped up and continued to fuck you slowly

You were whining and crying under him from your multiple orgasms

You felt his dick twitch inside you and he groaned

“Gonna cum inside princess, gonna -fuck- give you a baby” he groaned

And after a few more pumps you felt your womb fill with his seed

He didn't pull out and stayed inside until he was empty. He was covered in sweat and his cheeks were red

He finally slipped out and laid next to you. You looked over at him with a smile on your face

“ i'm so ready to do this with you” you said

“I know baby, me too” he responded

6 months later

You were in a room surrounded by your friends and family as they got you ready for your wedding

Your mom helped you slip on your white dress. You were so nervous your palms were sweaty

You walked over to the mirror to see how you looked and cried once you saw yourself. You were worried if you'd look bad being 4 months pregnant in a wedding dress but were stunned at how beautiful you looked

“y/n oh my god- you're gorgeous” you heard your best friend say behind you

“Really” you said in response

“Really. Suguru is so lucky to be marrying you and have you carrying his son” he said as she walked over to pull you into a hug

You finished getting ready then went to stand at the doors, ready to marry the man you loved and start a life with him and your new baby

Rachel

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk scenarios #suguru x reader #geto suguru

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bowieandqueen11 · 11 months ago

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Buggy Falling In Love With You Would Include...

Request: hi there~ would it be possible to get buggy x reader headcanons of their time growing from friends to lovers? buggy is completely thrown for a loop when it comes to reader because they're polar opposites, but he grows to love how genuinely nice she is. she's able to bring out a more softer side of himself, which terrifies and frustrates him, but eventually buggy learns to accept it.

P.S. good luck on your surgery! i'll be wishing you a speedy recovery!

I genuinely love this clown way too much like Jeff Ward had no right to look as good in this role for real - also thank you so much sweetie!! I'm very nervous right now but getting back into writing such sweet requests is helping :3

Warning: slightly NSFW although nothing explicit, mentions of knives and cannons and slightly strong language!

(I do not own One Piece or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Look, I love this man, but he is a full on idiot. He would not deal with these emotions well. Perhaps it was because of the thorn Shanks had left in his side that he refused to allow his heart to entrust itself into someone else's hands again: to be left disappointed once again. Perhaps, it was even the deep rooted, long-suffering repressed fear that he would lose you; the life of a pirate was an ugly one, full of bloodshed and tenuous treaties. Of a life lived from moment to moment, of foiled plans and devastating lows. There was no place for kindness, or selflessness, or care. Tenderness. The last time he had left himself concern for another flood his brain, he had been left bawling in front of Gol D. Roger's execution tower. He vowed then, he vowed that he would never allow himself to feel that weakness for another person again.

Tenderness. Yuck. Even the word still made him shiver in his boots.

And then you had to come along, and ruin every. single. one. of his incredibly well thought out plans. He was going to be King of the Pirates. He was going to kill that little Strawhat brat and take back his map to the Grand Line. And he wasn't, most definitely not, going to fall head over heels in love with you.

Speaking of, your entire relationship didn't exactly get off to a great start; during the practice for the Grand Entry of performers into the ring, Buggy was far too busy glancing his eyes sideways to notice where he was walking. He was far, far too busy trying to swipe the dopey look of his usually stony face, replacing it with a melodramatic frown as he tried to figure out, why oh why, his heart was striking his chest in tune to the marching band every time he dared steal a look in your direction. Far, far too busy growing more and more petrified about how stifling a presence you had on the tent as a whole, that this man dead-ass hit the toe of his boot off the striped edge of the ring and fell arse over teakettle into the sand. It would have maybe... *maybe* been a little less mortifying for Buggy if you hadn't rushed over to help him while he was trying to spit out grains of sand and smudged lipstick from his tongue with a disgusted splutter. The absolute derision in his curled fist as he swung his head away from your offering hand was the final blow to his already delicate pride.

You were getting in the way, and it was starting to infuriate the clamorous clown.

As soon as you would enter the tent, every crew member's head would swivel round towards you like five seesawing spotlights. Being so kind and attentive to the different members of the crew and their varying personalities: dreams, fears and wants, it seemed only natural that each member would gravitate towards you. Plus, it was an added bonus dumping their ropes and wonkily written cue cards to instead lumber over to your corner and escape Buggy's rant about the 'brightness of the spotlight being so dark it would make the sun look black!'

Since this man is genuinely such an attention hoe (mood), seeing everyone completely turn their asses to him and ignore every stamp of his foot and seething word from his curled lips would immediately set him firmly on edge. Queue the theatrical man folding his arms and huffing like a steam boat when he watches Cabaji offer you his hand to stop you from falling over some scattered wrist chains still left on the floor after the Buggy Pirates' last village destruction.

Buggy snaps everyone back to work with a brusk yell, the sound of your giggle as another member of the crew shows you how to use the red flares tipping his anger straight over into the abyss. His teeth grind harshly enough to leave a trail of dust behind his feet as he slaps the tent flaps open; he immediately flops down on one of the stacked crates by the entrance, thumping his head onto his folded arms as he tries to calm himself down. He swats everyone that comes his way away, pretending he's busy counting how many knives he has left stored away so he could bury his head into the wood and hope that no one would notice how devastated he looked.

The worst part of it all? Buggy, if he was being truly honest with himself, was unsure if he was so jealous over you stealing the spotlight, or by the way his whole body had bristled seeing you place your fingers so delicately against a palm that wasn't his.

Bless your heart, you make it a point to try and cheer him up the next chance you get, feeling so guilty about the fact that his whole face was nearly as red as his nose for the entire day, and he refused to enter the tent again. Once you're all safely back on the Big Top, you try your damn hardest to try and soften the captain to you a bit: or even better, to try and figure out why he seemed so antagonised by you. It was exceptionally hard: when you waved to him on the deck, Buggy's eyes fell as wide as saucers as he nearly fell to the ground trying to duck down behind Mohji, waddling away behind him like a duck. Or you would try and knock on his quarters' door, only to see an arm... and then a leg... and then the stupid man's grimacing head fly past the port windows and out of his room. One time, as you were heading down to the galley, you swore you heard a gaudy exhale and a sigh of relief come from one of the shaking barrels up by the railings.

This man was a tough shell to crack, but you were determined to finally win the great Pirate Buggy over.

After about three days of constantly trying, you managed to make him yell and nearly jump out of his coat up on the deck; he swivelled round when he felt a soft triple tap on his shoulder, and there you stood: hands tucked nervously behind your back, a kind smile brightening your face as you noticed him gaping at you.

'Good morning, Captain Buggy!', you swing a little from side to side, noticing the thick swallow he gave at the sound of your voice. Did he really despise you so much, that just four simple words could make the bile rise in his throat?

Inside, Buggy was burning. By all the seas, did the sound of your wind-rushing voice make him want to do nothing more than grab onto your face with an clad-iron grip and do nothing but kiss you silly until the saccharine saffron sun dawned. His gloves clenched at his sides, will-power winning out as he threw you a shit-eating grin and raised one leg comically, as if he were about to run over the edge of the ship.

'I'm a little busy right now Y/n. See?' He pointed a finger towards the ocean, and then held them up by his shoulders and shrugged.

'But-', you started, grabbing onto his collar and nearly toppling the man over with how shocked he was. 'I just wanted to ask you about your battle with the Golden Lion Pirates!'

His eyebrows raised, and his head tilted slowly to the side. 'You... you know about that?'

'Of course! That's why I joined your crew! Only a talented and clever pirate could have sailed with Gol D. Roger - that's why I respected you and your crew so much! And don't forget devilishly handsome!'

You... you respected him? Oh no. Oh no no no. This was worse than kindness. Far worse than tenderness. The words fall on short-circuiting ears: the branding pain of your fingers brushing over the bare skin on his wrist as you held tightly onto his sleeve forgotten as his brain worked overtime trying to figure out what you had just said. ...Handsome?

He cocks his head back to you, blinking rhythmically, as if he were a wound up spring toy rather than a man. But he looking at you: really looking at you for the first time. His face softened a little - the cracks finally beginning to show through his gaudy façade. As you reached up on your tippy toes to press a chaste kiss against the skull-and-crossbones lying over his left eyebrow, little could you know that no one had shown Buggy that much care since he was thirteen years old.

Oh noooo. He was falling in love with you, and it terrified him. But damn it all if he doesn't want to feel this flash of lightening strike through every nerve ending in his body every chance he got: if he didn't want to feel his breath stick in the back of his throat at the slightly sticky feel of your lips pulling away from his forehead. If he didn't want to be greedy, and steal away the flushed smile you gave him before scurrying off, hoarding it all for himself.

Buggy comes to practice his new jokes on you every chance he gets after that encounter, the feeling of being near you so addictive it almost swings round from love and back to annoyance again. He stands awkwardly at the swing door of the galley: a nervous shadow creeping around the fringes of your scintillating smile. Everyone on the crew just pretends they can't see him lmao, even when they can hear his impatient 'oh, come onnn' and 'how long does it take to eat a bologna sandwich?', moaning and muttering and spluttering from the corridor. Was it so hard for the poor man to get a minute *coincidentally* alone with you? Considering he had done nothing the last week but try and do the exact opposite oops Buggy I love you but you're a straight up histrionic dumbass-

He literally grabs people by the collar and hurls them out the door like a cannonball if they walk past him too slowly.

When he comes sliding up on the bench beside you, elbow on the table and head resting nonchalantly on his fist like a slipping squid nearly knocking itself into your torso head-first, you can't say you're too surprised by his antics. Bless, he looks so proud of himself for fooling you into thinking he was here so candidly that you can't help but giggle, which turns into rip-roaring laughs once he starts up his routine. Truth is, as he spends hours and hours telling you terrible, cheesy ass jokes, he just wants to hear your laughter. Wants to feel your knee knock against with each shake of your belly his until his whole body jolts. Wants to admire you up close, to mark down in the depths of his mind the way the corners of your eyes crinkle when you're especially happy.

He wants to outline it all in his head: memorise it, lay it out so it covered every inch and crevice and recesses of his vindictive brain. All he wanted in that moment, as you tried to choke back your laughter with a spluttering cough, was to frame the most important map he would ever find: the intricacies of you.

When he slaps his hand down on the table at a particularly rib-tickling crack, and you accidentally bring yours down to settle on top of his glove, he starts so suddenly you're worried he's going to start avoiding you again. And although he stops giggling, and although his face falls to gravely stare at your skin resting on top of the white leather, he surprises you both by twisting his hand so he could grip loosely onto the tips of your fingers. He's so embarrassed when you start knitting your pinky finger between his larger, slender one that he tucks his left hand between his knee and has to turn his head to face the wall, still trying to swallow down his pride and allow himself to indulge in that disgusting word... tenderness again.

One time, while you were pouring over some old maps the crew had stolen from a Marine base a couple of weeks ago, you absentmindedly reached over to where Buggy was sewing up his coat on the sand and began twirling the surprisingly soft strands of his hair between your fingers. Thank goodness the two of you were alone, because the uncomfortable tent that grew between his shuffling thighs, and the gasping splutters that blew out of his mouth mortified the clown to his core.

He was still getting used to all this. Just give him some time. And a whole lot of reassurance.

You're the only other person that Buggy will allow to sit on his make-shift throne. When your Captain had asked you to come help chart out a path to whichever small village you thought was best to steal restock supplies from, you imagined you'd be standing by his armrest like his right hand man does. Surprise surprise to the both of you when you end up nearly glowing, puffs of steam escaping both your ears by how maroon you both turned.

When he had faux-confidently clapped his knees and beckoned you over to him with a wave of his hand, he was only, like, 30% certain you would take him up on his offer. When you slid onto his lap, he was nearly as gobsmacked as you were. He tried, he really did - he tried to hide his curling smile and wonderstruck widening eyes behind your neck, but his warm breath grazing over your collar bone kept making you squirm. Which, of course, with each shove backwards of your hips, and well... your buttocks against his pelvis, he kept having to moan internally and grit his teeth to stop himself ripping off your clothes right there and then.

It really doesn't help that he starts tapping the heel of his boot against the floor as if to expel all of his nervous energy, making his knee bop up constantly against your inseam, making it hard for you to concentrate on anything but holding onto his forearm for dear life to try and settle yourself.

Buggy's own grip on the chair was tight enough to chip off wood when you shakily pulled the crumpled map out of your back pocket, the feeling of the back of your hand brushing innocently against his inner thigh making Buggy throw his head back and close his eye in intense concentration.

Oops, too bad you had to go back since you'd forgotten your compass; wrestling deeper into the pocket, your hand accidentally brushed over the most sensitive Buggy's crotch, making him buck his hips up and nearly sending you flying across the room.

It's when he gently places the side of his head against your cheek and reads almost absentmindedly over your shoulder, despite how hard he was pretending not to be breathlessly glancing at you through his thick lashes intently enough to burn a hole through the hull of the ship that you finally realise.

Oh. He doesn't hate me. He likes me.

His nose bumps against the edge of your Cupid's Bow, and you take a chance. You lean forward, both your breaths frozen as Buggy follows the trail of your lips until he goes almost cross-eyed, finally computing that you had just pressed a sweet kiss on his nose.

For a moment, he's stock still. He just gawks harshly at the inner seam of your bottom lip, as if lost adrift a tumultuous sea of thought. And then when I say this man pounces, I mean he pounces.

All the rest of the crew are too afraid to come in and disturb Buggy about the small three-manned boat encroaching on the horizon, though, because of the absolutely ringing, frantic noises coming out of Buggy's throne room.

Let's just say, although they were incredibly glad you brought out a softer, mushier side of their Captain, they all now had another problem on their hands: his raging protectiveness. Now, not only were they getting yelled at for messing up his entrances, they were getting honked at and prodded with his dismembered hand anytime someone dared to even look at you for a second too long.

#one piece #one piece imagine #buggy #buggy the clown #buggy imagine #buggy the clown imagine #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown headcanons #opla #opla imagine #jeff ward #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #buggy one piece #buggy the clown one piece

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kurosagi-h8r · 20 days ago

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I think it would be fun if darkwick has like a radio committee/club where they would read anonymous messages/letters for the school. Maybe they can invite the students as guest speaker too. I need Ed to be invited only for him to be like joke around and just beating around the bush haha hihi and then he dropped some big scandal/secret for all the school to hear.

How it works is the host will announce who the next guest speaker would be and then people can send anonymous letters, it can be about the guest or anyone, then the guest will have to read the letter there. On a live radio.

Yuri will either rant about darkwick general or openly threat frostheim students and endangering the radio committee.

Jiro will actually be pretty normal and give tips regarding student health. Until he read one anonymous letter with smth like love confession or poetry that's soooo Zenji style and he'd be like "...where did you get this?"

Subaru reading anonymous letters (sent by Leo) to corner him into spilling the beans about himself. Poor guy would struggle in front of the mic.

Can I be biased here? I want Haku to read a bunch of love letters lololol (i would send him tons tbh) JUST TO HEAR HIM oh-so-seductively CHUCKLE EVERY 5 SECONDS LETTER AFTER LETTER until I realize I wasn't the only one because some girl two seats away from me is giggling to herself hearing Haku reading her letter out loud. "Ahaha... so many love letters, are you guys sure it's all for me? All your love??? For a guy like me? I must've been a hero in my past life."

As for Tohma he would either read complaints or blatant complaints from another Frostheimers (i feel like he could tell just from the handwritting alone that the sender is from his house) and after reading the entire content he would go, "Thank you for the heartfelt letter, MR FUJI. I'll be sure to assess myself better but I would need more detailed information on your view regarding my performance as the Vice Captain. Please come to the Vault and be sure to come on time after this radio session. Should you be too busy, I can always interro– I mean interview your closent friend, the honor student. After all I don't mind having her attention all to myself." Or something along the line bcs he'd play dirty like that. (That's so hot of him tho i would at least admit it)

Sho wouldn't really be a guest speaker but if the radio committee needs to make some quick buck they could open a paid promotion and you would hear the committee promoting HTH lol. Like telling the audience about Discount of The Day that you wouldn't know unless you listen to the radio.

Also Haru would probably do the same too! He would want the radio to promote the safari lol.

Ritsu... can the committee even convince him to spare some time in his schedule to be their guest speaker? Would he charge them money? 😭 What if he starts spouting some laws about some legal wrongdoings the radio committee has done (which they didn't even realize) just by making this whole radio thing A THING.

Kinda same with Ritsu, the committee would have to pay Romeo for him to come. I just wish Kaito would send him a letter and everyone would hear Romeo curse tf out of that letter. I think by the end of the session he should put a bounty on Kaito's head. Just because.

What if someone say some bad things about Haru and then Towa IMMEDIATELY storm the studio or zap the radio tower 😭

Mizuki Rui dating advice session? Mizuki Rui dating advice session. Just like Haku he would receive anonymous love letters (or not anonymous. Honestly i would be bold too if it's him). They'd be such a huge confidence booster for him lol and he would give the senders cute nicknames if they're not anonymous.

There has to be messages about the teachers too. Hyde reading anonymous letter in which he could tell Sho was the sender. Students shit-talking about Moby and his weird ass idol obsession (i would be the sender just watch), *cough* students being nosy about the relationship between Benkei and Nicholas *cough* well well MC PLEASE MAKE THIS RADIO A PLACE FOR YOU TO LET YOUR HEART OUT PLEASEEEE YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN A FREEDOM OF SPEECH AT THE VERY LEAST 😭

The rest of them would either not care enough about the radio or become the sender. Leo would prefer to be the sender, i think. Ren would only send anonymous letter when Haru is the speaker to let everyone knows he dislike him and dislike being put in Jabberwock. Zenji will always send his poetry and probably most speakers would find it hard to understand his works, let alone reading them out loud 😭 Zenji himself would love to be the speaker but oh well~ still, it's an opportunity to spread positivity and hopefully he can brighten someone's day with his work.

#rhy brainrotting mode #my coffee did its job good tonight #did i say i have exam this week? yet here i am #tdb #rhy tdb talks #tokyo debunker #rhyapping #not tagging the characters im too lazy #rhy writes

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idyllcy · 1 year ago

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and on and on, i'll be by your side

word count: 11.9k

warnings: non-explicit sex, unstable family relationship (reader)

summary: senior year romance means everything from fluff to angst to teenage hormones

"I like you. let's date."

Jason chokes on his water, coughing as you hand him a napkin to wipe off the water.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Let's date?"

"before that."

"I like you." You blink at him, raising a brow. "What? Can't believe it?"

"No. I was not expecting to get confessed to on the first FUCKING DAY OF SENIOR YEAR." He hisses. "Why are you even asking me out? You had a crush on some other guy all the way until like before junior year ended."

"Yeah..." You tap your chin. "You see, I had a revelation over summer while we studied at the library together."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Well too bad!" You shrug, smile on your lips. "I thought, hey, I've kinda been on and off with my feelings with you for a while now, why not just get the closure I need?"

"So you asked me out without expecting me to accept your confession?" Jason hands you the second sandwich Alfred packed.

"Yeah!" You hum. "Thank you."

"And if I accept your confession?"

"Then we date." You shrug. "I have no L in this situation."

"What if I leave you hanging?"

"I have one L in this situation." You grimace. "You're not that mean, right?"

Three years. Jason Todd has been in love with you for three whole years — sitting through your hopeless rants about how attractive you found the most mediocre guys in the school, on the verge of going insane when he had practically turned into your ideal type only for you to pat him on the chest and tell him he'd definitely pull. Jason Todd had not expected you to casually drop the bomb that you had liked him on and off or the question of dating on the first day of senior year, the two of you sitting in your shared English teacher's classroom. He can feel his teacher's eyes on the back of his head as he stares at you incredulously.

"I'm not that mean," He shakes his head, heart racing in his head. "We..."

You look at him expectantly.

"Is it taking advantage of you if I agree to date you?" He winces.

"Nope! If anything, it could be me taking advantage of you." You beam. "Is that a yes?"

"Uh, yeah." Jason really hopes this doesn't come to bite him in the ass later. "Sure. Let's date."

You grin. "Should I call you babe?"

"Too fast." Jason deadpans. "If you don't finish that half of the sandwich I'm going to take it."

You gasp in fake offense. "I'm savoring it."

"Not with the lunch bell ringing in five minutes."

"I hate you." You grumble, going back to your sandwich. "What do people who date even do?"

"Well, they—"

"If you pull a single date idea from one of your classics I will throw this sandwich at your face."

"Alfred's hard work!" Jason raises a brow. "You dare disrespect that?"

"Either this or my backpack." You mumble, finishing the sandwich. "The backpack it is."

"I was going to say we could start with the park, but if you're going to smack me with your backpack, then I'd say we just break up." Jason jests.

"World's fastest breakup." You mumble. "We could break a world record with that."

"That's impossible. Someone out there has broken up faster than this. Also, I never said we'd break up." He mumbles. "I was threatening you."

You shrug, the bell going off.

"What's your next class?"

"I sent you my schedule like two weeks ago!" You gasp. "You didn't memorize it?"

"Alright," Jason sighs. "What's my next class?"

"Creative Writing. Bingo, loser."

"You can't do this to me." Jason grumbles.

"Oh, I can and I will." You grin.

"Have fun in your TA period." Jason walks in the other direction.

"You did memorize it?!" You yell at him in the hall as he walks off. "Liar!!!"

Jason ignores you, speeding up instead. The realization would settle in later, he thinks. The realization that after three years of pathetic pining on his end, you had asked him out on the first day of senior year with no will to continue living in Gotham. It was uncertain. Maybe you were just using him so you could say you had a boyfriend in high school. He would let himself get used, as long as it was you. In that case, he might as well put in the full effort to have you fall harder. Starting with... your ideal date, he supposes.

He sighs, looking through the list of books you had sent him earlier during summer that you completed, grimacing at how many questionable ones you had read. Though, that's not his problem. The two of you loved reading, even if they were totally different genres. Thankfully on his end, you had ranked them based on how much you liked them. He starts with the first book, a long night ahead of him.

"Red."

"Hm?" Jason holds down the thug with his foot. "What?"

"Are you listening to an audiobook on duty?"

"What of it?" Jason knocks the man out with the back of his gun.

"Why are you listening to smut while on duty?"

"Little wing, did you get a girlfriend?"

"What?"

"Why else would you be listening to romance while on the job? Obviously for research."

"He could also have a crush."

"I think it's his friend from school." Dick reasons. "He's had a crush on her since forever—"

"Oh my god, can you both shut up?"

"Get back to work." Bruce's voice rings on the line. "I don't care what he's listening to. As long as he's getting the job done."

Jason lingers in the city once patrol is over, scouting out an area to take you that wasn't the park. You hadn't looked that excited for the park when he joked about it. You did mention an arcade at some point early on in your friendship, and there was one in the area. Jason would have to take you by bike there. It'd be hard to park in the area. He pauses at the sight of the mall. You work there, huh?

"Where?"

"Mall. Are you deaf?"

"I have work this weekend." You blink at Jason. "Did you forget?"

"You dumbass. You work in the mall. I'll take you after work."

"I'm going to be all sweaty and gross!" You grimace.

"You sweat from a gift shop job?" He raises a brow.

"That was an excuse. I'm going to be dressed in a white tee and jeans. I'm barely going to look presentable." You frown.

"I'l give you my jacket. We can match."

"And have your chest out for the whole world to see? No." You deadpan. "Oh... maybe a compression shirt."

"What was it about not letting the world see my chest?"

"If you're going to wear something slutty I wanna match. You can wear your baseball jacket." You tap your chin. "Or we can both wear tees and jeans. I wanna wear a compression shirt too..."

Jason contemplates the idea of letting the world see your chest.

"No complaints?" You tilt your head.

"Wear what you want. I can fight." He smiles.

"Omg," You gasp. "Like a booktok boyfriend!"

"I'm defenestrating you."

"Jokes on you I'd be into it." You grin, eyes crinkling from how hard you were.

"Do you want me to bring you a change of clothes?"

"No. I'll just wear my tee and jeans." You hum. "And your jacket?"

"And my jacket." Jason takes it off, helping you into it. "There."

"You can wear a white tee and jeans." You smile. "And bring a sharpie. I want to draw on your shirt."

"Got it." He hums. "Anything else you want?"

"Can you bring me coffee?"

"Your usual?"

"Yes please."

"Alright."

The rest of your friend group tells you you seem to be happier these days. You joke that it's because you're ahead on your college apps. They don't pester you beyond that. You're glad they don't. You don't know what kind of madness your friend group would pull if they found out you were dating your best friend. They'd probably... you don't want to think about it.

"Hey," Jason hums, handing you your cup of coffee as you step out of the store, shift over.

"Hi," You hum, pressing the coffee to your lips. "Thank you."

Jason fishes out a Sharpie from his pocket next, handing it to you as you find a place to sit down, the smell of the pen filling the air as you scribble weird characters onto his back.

"What are you drawing?"

"The skrunkly." You mumble.

"The soots from Spirited Away?"

"Yes."

Jason waits for your to finish, handing you his phone to take a photo of your artwork. You click into his BeReal instead, taking a photo of his back and then of you, sharpie still in hand. You are picking violence today. Does this count as a hard launch? You don't know. All you know is that the baseball team is going to jump Jason for not telling them he has a girlfriend. You type out a caption, handing him his phone back as he stares at the drawings.

"You should apply as an art major."

"I don't have a portfolio." You deadpan. "Unless you count the shirt."

"Or the sketchbooks full of our classmates' faces."

"Or that." You close the sharpie, putting it in your pocket. "Where to?"

"I brought my car. You wanna go anywhere?"

"I wanna go... with you? To your home?" You pat his shoulder twice. "I'm kidding. Let's hit up the arcade."

"Sure." Jason hums. "Oh, did you get sharpie on my skin?"

"Want me to check?"

"Please."

You run your hand under his shirt, lifting it as you check for marks. You pause, admiring his back.

"You've got a lot of scars."

"You know what it's from."

"Your nighttime activities."

Jason can practically see you wriggling your brows at him.

"Yeah. Call it that."

"Can I be part of that?"

"Depends how you want to be part of it." Jason hums. "No marks?"

You let his shirt fall back down.

"None."

"Shall we go?"

"Let's." You hum, standing up with him, slipping your hand into his, the two of you head for the escalators.

Jason SUCKS at dance dance revolution.

You discover it after hitting the arcade, his weird skills in pulling out plushes from the crane machine and his eerily good aim at shooting games knocking the air out of you, but you find that no matter how fast he was on his feet as Red Hood, he sucks at dance games. Which brought you to this point.

Jason gawks at how high your score is.

You laugh, tickets spilling out from the machine, holding the bar as Jason stares at his score, offended a score that low could even exist.

"I kicked Dick's ass last time we played."

"Sure, totally believe you." You grin. "How many years ago was that? Four? Five?"

"I'm going to defenestrate you."

You snort. "I thought I told you I'm into that."

"From the top of Wayne Tower?"

"I'll call Dick for help." You hum. "He'll save me with that tight suit of his o—"

Jason slams a hand over your mouth, glaring at you.

"I'm kidding." You pull his hand away. "Why would I ask him for help when my boyfriend is right here? Oh, right. My boyfriend's the one defenestrating me. I should call Tim instead. He'd probably be in the building anyway."

"Sweetheart."

"Or maybe your dad. He'd probably be in the building too."

"Babe."

"Or I'll just fall to my death and force you to live with the guilt of—"

Jason grabs you by the face, glaring at you. "That's enough."

You jut out your lips, grinning. "Are we about to kiss?"

"Too fast." Jason sighs, letting go. "Are you happy with your plushies or do you want more?"

"How many more coins do you have?"

"Sixteen."

"Can I get three more?"

"Which ones do you want?"

You hold onto the bag of plushies as Jason wins you four more, the coins running out and a laugh spilling past his lips when you ask him for help. It was nice to not play at a rigged crane game, but Jason's ability to pull every single plush on the first try was baffling.

"Hey, how are we getting home? Didn't you take your bike?"

"I drove today." He deadpans. "Your memory game is still real strong, huh?"

You gasp, feigning shock. "I have GREAT memory."

"When's my birthday?"

You purse your lips. "Can you get my phone?"

"I'm hurt."

"August 16." You laugh. "I celebrate it with you every year. Did you actually think I didn't know?"

"You have terrible memory."

"I'm offended." You grumble. "We can split the children."

"Shared custody?"

"We're not... divorced?" You raise a brow at him. "Unless this is a breakup call—"

"Nope. Which ones do you want?"

"I want the franchised ones."

"So like, more than half of them."

"I'm kidding. I want the Nightwing one."

"Not the Red Hood one?"

"I didn't finish saying which other ones I wanted. I want all the Batman-themed ones." You mumble. "Especially the Red Hood one."

"Why the plush," Jason leans down, lips to your ear, blowing on it, "when I'm right here?"

"Are you saying you'll stay at my place forever?" You raise a brow at him, leaning back.

"I don't see why not."

"Absolutely not. My parents would have a heart attack if I brought a boy home." You grumble. "You've met them before."

"They've seen me. They've never met me." Jason shrugs. "Do they know you're on a date?"

"No." You hum. "I can tell them you dropped by and we were at the arcade."

"They're fine with us hanging out?"

"They just don't want me to date. Not when college app season is in swing, at least." You pause. "Where are you going?"

"Gotham, obviously."

"Ugh." You grumble. "Wish you'd leave the city with me."

"Can't."

"I know." You mumble. "You have to stay."

"And you have to go."

There's beauty in Gotham, you admit, but it's not the city you can see yourself living in the long term. Not even when your boyfriend would make sure you never die or get hurt. Not even if his entire family ran around keeping the city safe. You wouldn't be able to live in a city like this, even if you were used to the spontaneous kidnappings and death threats floating around the city. Even if you were used to the life in Gotham, you couldn't see yourself continuing down the road.

"What happens to us after high school?" You grimace.

"We'll figure it out." Jason hums. "Enjoy what we have for now."

The drive home is quiet, a silence that's comfortable for the two of you. It's a silence that rests in the air when the two of you are too tired to talk to each other, familiar to the two of you, a constant in your lives. You bring everything upstairs, falling asleep immediately, too tired to explain where the plushies came from and why you had been gone for so long.

Jason watches as you apply to the bigger schools, a thousand extracurriculars tucked behind your application, a hundred awards to cram into the five slots. You had more than he could imagine. He knew you had been an overachiever, but he hadn't known how hard you worked. It showed on your application, and it showed in December when you were accepted into your dream school with a full ride.

"You're leaving for good, then?" He rests his head on your shoulder, watching as you accept the offer.

"Yeah." You chew on the straw to your milk, puffing air into your cheeks.

"Will you miss me?"

"Babe, it's December." You remind.

"Yeah, but will you miss me?"

"I'll miss you more if you take me to Winter Formal."

"I already have a proposal in plan. Be patient." He grumbles, biting into his apple. "Are you going to ask me to Winter Formal?"

You smile. "Apple."

Jason sticks his tongue out, a piece of laminated paper on his tongue, glancing at the words.

"Yes. I'll go to Winter Formal with you. How'd you even get the paper in there?"

"Secret." You laugh. "I rolled it up and jammed it in there and then put edible paint on to cover the marks."

"Creative." He grins. "Love you."

The two of you stare at each other as you register Jason's words, and your lips part before closing again.

"You love me?" You crane your neck to look at him better.

"You don't?"

You laugh. "I love you too."

"Maybe I should apply there." He mumbles.

"You can't leave Gotham."

"It's not that I can't." He corrects. "it's just that I don't want to."

"Right, right." You nod. "But it's fine. Gotham needs you."

"Yeah." He mumbles. "That's not far, is it? I can still visit."

"Yeah." You hum. "No. It's four hours."

"Oops."

You laugh. "We'll figure something out."

Jason matches with you for Winter Formal, showing up with your favorite flowers, flowers matching the color of your dress and his corsage, your house empty for the night. Jason wonders some days why you never introduce him to your parents, but it's not his place to pry. He had terrible parents on his own. He doesn't even want to think about what could have happened had his birth mom gotten the chance to ruin his life like she wanted to. But it didn't matter, especially not when Winter Formal is crashed by a supervillain and he's forced to take action.

You laugh when he finishes, hand held out to help you from the ground. His siblings are scattered throughout, Dick and Bruce talking to Gordon, debriefing the whole situation. He lingers by you, checking your skin for any injuries of sort.

"Sorry Winter Formal got ruined." He mumbles through the helmet.

You pat his chest twice. "Can we get Batburgers?"

"With my helmet on?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever you want."

"Yeah, we can," He hands you his car keys, swinging onto a nearby roof to change out of his clothes, mask off. You open the door for him as he slides in, the two of you one of the last to leave. "You aren't mad Winter Formal got ruined?"

"No. I like seeing you in action." You smile. "Besides, your brother—"

"We have got to do something about your addiction to Nightwing." He grumbles, driving off. "Drive through or walk in?"

"Drive through." You observe the helmet. "Does this have any defense mechanisms?"

"If you try to pry it off my head, it cuts your finger. The needle has poison on it too."

"Damn." You mumble. "Anything else?"

"It's got a bomb built in."

"WHAT." You blink at him. "You can self-destruct?!"

"Mhm." He hums. "Your regular order?"

"Can I get ice cream?"

"Yeah."

You pull the bobby pins from your hair as he orders, staring at yourself in the vanity mirror. There are a couple of bloodstains on your dress that definitely don't belong to you, and you spot the same stains on Jason's dress shirt, tie loosened and unbuttoned to relax a little. You wonder why they targeted your school's dance. They could have gotten more money if they held the nearby private school hostage. You shrug as Jason pulls up to the window to pay.

"Here." He hands you your order as he pulls into a nearby parking lot, his own order on his lap.

"Why'd you think they targeted our school?"

"Because of me," Jason bites into his burger. "Billionaire's son."

"The private school has more rich kids." You reach for a napkin.

"Yeah, but my father's a billionaire. Those kids are all millionaires. Their net worth isn't even worth mine."

"True, huh."

"Are you sure Winter Formal wasn't ruined?"

"No. I got to see your tits bounce while you fought."

"Deadass?"

"No. Your chestplate kept it in tact." You chuckle. "I'd like to see you shirtless sometime."

"Why not now?"

"I am not fucking you in an empty parking lot at 2am."

"Really?"

"I am not letting that be my first time."

"Alright, fair enough." He mumbles. "Where should our first time be?"

"Forgot you're a virgin despite the body." You lick your fingers clean of the sauce. "Don't ask me."

"You wanna fuck in Bruce's room?"

"NO."

"Not a hotel."

"Definitely not a hotel."

"In the Batcave?"

"Jason, I love you, but we are NOT fucking somewhere where your dad can catch us on the cameras."

"Your house."

"No."

"Then where?" He picks up his soda, blinking. "College dorm."

"I'll let you fuck me at the hotel I'll be at before moving in for college." You shove the spoonful of ice cream into your mouth.

"Bet." He grins. "I'm holding you to that."

Jason's ability to drive in Gotham surprises you some days. The two of you have been to every corner of the city, even to the places the two of you are definitely not allowed to visit. The abandoned factories, the galas that you never receive invitations to, everything from head to toe had been visited before. But every place is an adventure, even when the two of you are laying in the grass of Gotham's empty parks, naming the shapes in the sky, bloody red mixed with a sickly green. You find that it reminds you of Jason's eyes, pretty grass-colored irises reminding you of flower fields.

"What shape is that?"

"I don't know," You mumble, staring at his face. "I'm not looking anymore."

"What are you looking at?" He raises a brow at you.

"Your eyes." You blink at him, a stupid smile on your face. Jason looks at you with the same smile on his face. The smile of two idiots in love.

"Yeah? What about them?"

"They're pretty." Your fingers press to his chest for support as you lean in closer, staring right into them. "They look like the fields in the Alps. Like a cottage in the fields I wished I lived in, like the comfort of the morning dew that helps ground me."

"You like my eyes that much?"

"I like everything about you." You mumble.

"Can I kiss you?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Always."

Jason kisses you with fervor — passion you forget he has sometimes. He kisses you like you're the last person in the world, making your lashes flutter and head spin from the taste of his lips, your nails digging into his biceps, moan slipping past your lips as his fingers dig into your waist to pull you to sit up. You pull away with a hard inhale, Jason chasing after your lips immediately, hands flying to your face, tongue pressed to yours, barely breathing himself. You wonder if his lungpower came with the vigilante business. You certainly can't keep up, pushing him away at some point, panting.

"One more."

"No." You grumble. "Can't breathe. Head spin. I'm going to die."

"Most that'll happen is you'll pass out." He grins.

"No more." You point at him, eyes hard. "I'm not passing out at a park... or getting arrested for public indecency."

Jason laughs, pulling you close, resting his head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist snuggly. You frown, running your hands through his hair, closing your eyes to see if you can listen to his heartbeat with how close his chest was pressed to yours. You hum gently, letting the vibrations rumble between the two of you, the sun peeking past the clouds in Gotham for once. You wonder how many more times you would get to do this.

"Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to miss you." You mumble into his skin. "A lot."

"I'll drive up to you every weekend."

"That's four hours and a shit ton of tolled routes." You mumble.

"Daddy's got money to spare."

You laugh, leaning further into Jason's body, smile making way onto your face again. "Yeah? How about you fly over?"

"Wow, babe, I thought you cared about my carbon footprint."

"Then go by boat." You hum.

"Not a bad idea. You want a rich boyfriend who knows how to sail?"

"And get to brag to all those rich kids who can't date for shit about it? Yeah." You hum. "Plus, you'd look so hot sailing while shirtless in nothing but swim trunks."

"You think about me shirtless more than I can imagine." He rubs soothing circles on your waist. "What else do you think about?"

"Think about your tits."

"Pecs, baby."

"Think about biting them."

"In a—"

"In a completely normal way. Just. The urge to bite and squish?"

"In the neurodivergent way?"

"Yeah." You hum. "But I also think about you at night."

"Oh?"

"Worry about you. Who's going to patch you up when I'm gone?"

"Alfred."

"Yeah, but," You swallow. "I won't know if you're alive or awake the next day."

"I can text you."

"I should just take you with me." You sigh. "Pack you in my suitcase."

"You want me to go to college with you?"

"Yeah." You mumble blissfully. "In my perfect world."

Jason opens his mouth before you cut him off by pulling away from him.

"Jay," You mumble. "Do you think we're going to break up?"

"Do you?"

"I hope not." You mumble. "I wouldn't dare to."

"I don't think we're going to break up." He hums. "Not with the way I'm in love with you, at least."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He whispers back to you, pressing his forehead to yours, noses brushing. "Not at all."

"That's all I need to hear." You grin.

Jason takes you to prom, as all high schoolers do, arm around your waist as you press the lemon water to your lips. There's no punch out of a fear that people are going to drug it, even when everyone is searched. You wonder if you want to go to the afterparty as you dump the rest of the drink. It's nasty. You wish there was soda. At least you could work a mocktail with a Sprite and the fruit on the table. The prom location is awful too despite the pretty paintings. It smells like a high school boys' locker room.

"There's karaoke in the back," He mumbles into your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck. That too. Jason's been getting more and more frisky. He should really have some sense of shame. "Without too many people."

"There's karaoke?" You ignore the way he squeezes your waist.

"Far back. Behind all the paintings."

"Oh, fuck yes." You mumble, making a beeline for the back, bolting to the first seat by karaoke you find. Jason texts you the list of songs available and asks you if you want to sing a duet. He watches you laugh at his text and send him a song, reminding him to ask when the two of you were going. He stands behind you, hands running up and down your neck, fingers digging into your back.

"You giving me a massage?" You rest your hand on his as he pauses.

"How are your feet doing?"

"Much better now that I'm sitting down." You mumble.

"Need to swap shoes with me?"

"I'll be fine." You hum. "You ready to sing?"

"Two losers who never speak up in class singing? You bet." He laughs.

You toss your friend your phone to record the two of you.

Jason may suck at DDR, but he's a great singer. His voice rings through the room, and you're sure more than one of the students in the room has fallen for him just based on his voice, but you're having fun singing a duet with him. It's always nice to be reminded that Jason sounds like an angel despite the build. You'd have him sing with you when he drives you up for college, you think. Yet, you yell the lyrics to the Taylor Swift song with him anyway, screaming the high note and bursting into laughter afterward. Jason continues singing, holding his hand out for you to get up.

It's the highlight of your high school life, you think. The highlight isn't when you got into your dream college, the highlight is Jason Todd serenading you at prom to a Taylor Swift song. You continue singing along with him, ignoring the way your heels hurt like a bitch. Maybe you'd have him drive you to get another Batburger. Even better, you'd have him grapple you to get Batburgers. That would make the night better, you think. You'd love to fly with him.

Jason finishes, mocking a bow to the crowd, the students cheering at him.

He pulls on your hand to have you bow too. You oblige.

The two of you leave prom early. Jason pulls you away from the karaoke room immediately when you finish, the two of you bolting for his car. Your heels click against the cement of the parking lot, digging into your feet, and you spin, your phone in Jason's hand as he takes photos of you. You hope he's good. Maybe he's one of those boyfriends who manage to catch photos of you at your worse. Oh well. The idea of it makes you laugh, the high from too many students ringing in your head, the deindividuation getting to you. You smile at Jason loopily, and your camera clicks in his hand, the moment immortalized.

"For your information," Jason catches you by the waist, showing you the photo of yourself. "You look gorgeous."

"Should've had Tim take photos of us before we left." You mumble. "Can you carry me back to the car?"

"My pleasure." Jason sits you on the sidewalk, helping you out of your heels. He throws you over his shoulder, resting his hand on your ass as he takes your heels in the other hand. "This good?"

"I feel like a sack of potatoes." You laugh. "But this is fine."

"Wanna go anywhere after this?"

"Can we grapple to get Batburgers?"

"You want to grapple?" You can feel Jason raise his brow.

"Yeah." You mumble. "Can we?"

"You good with flying? Your dress is too slippery, babe." He pats your ass.

"Oh, come on."

"Silk is too slippery." He hums. "We can do it another day."

You grumble. "Can we still get Batburgers?"

"With ice cream?"

"Yes, please." You mumble as Jason opens the door to your side, settling you into the seat and putting your heels next to your feet.

"I have a change of shoes in the back of the car because Dick told me that heels make your feet hurt after a while." He kisses the corner of your eye. "I also have a change of clothes if you don't want to ruin your dress."

"Jay, I'm going to marry you," You moan in bliss. "I'll pop the ring."

Jason laughs. "I can pop the ring."

"Yeah?" You turn your head to look at him, loopy smile on your face.

"Absolutely." He laughs.

The two of you sit in the parking lot again, Jason's shirt pulled over your dress to avoid ruining the silk, biting into the burger.

"This is bliss."

"Babe." Jason hums. "Why'd you ask me out again? Not the reason you told me. I think you asked me out for another reason."

You blink at him, swallowing the bite in your mouth. "I asked you out because I actually had a pathetic crush on you."

"Deadass?"

"Yeah. I fell for you as soon as you showed up looking like my type last Halloween. I didn't know if you did it on purpose, but holy shit I had to use every last ounce of self control to stop myself from just pulling you by the collar and making out with you in the middle of the hallway. Jay, you're hot as fuck." You muffle a laugh. "Wanted you so bad that day."

"Not anymore?" He raises a brow at you.

"Still do." You bite back into the burger. Jason watches as you chew and swallow. "If anything, even more now."

"Why haven't you told me?"

"Every time you've made out with me," You sigh. "We've been in public."

"What's a little public indecency? That's definitely not the most illegal thing I've done." He taps your thigh, squeezing it.

"It would be the most illegal thing I'll do." You grumble. "Nothing illegal before college, please."

"Anything for you." He reaches for the ice cream. "Can I have a bite?"

"Finish the whole thing if you'd like." You finish the burger, reaching for a napkin. "Got a little greedy tonight."

Jason laughs.

"Right." You make sure your fingers are clean, pulling the shirt over your head. "Chose this dress because it's crazy easy to take off."

Jason raises a brow as you reach for the ribbon on your back, pulling as the whole dress comes loose on your body.

"Isn't public nudity also a crime?"

"Sure," You reach for the shirt again, pulling it over your head. "Hope you liked looking at my tits."

"Would rather be sucking on them."

"Wow, Freud would have a field day with you." You mumble. "Maybe when we're not both dying."

"Do you have a curfew?"

"Told my parents I'm going to the afterparty." You shrug. "Clearly not."

"What time are you supposed to be back?" He runs his hand up your thigh again.

"We are NOT fucking in a parking lot."

"Never said we had to." He grins. "B's got a billion safehouses around the city."

"You're going to fuck me in a safehouse?"

"And? There's no cameras there."

"You're doing all the work." You grumble.

"Wouldn't dream of having you do anything your first time."

Your back slams into the seat as he races off to a safehouse.

Jason makes quick with what you're wearing, tugging his shirt over your head, lips pressed to your skin, biting and sucking where you would let him, desperate to taste every single inch of you. You whimper multiple times, and at some point, you stop him, fingers pressed to his chest, lashes fluttering as you struggle to stay awake, apology spinning in the air as your back met the mattress again, mumbling about your exhaustion. Jason leaves you alone after it, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, pulling your makeup remover from your purse, wiping the makeup from your skin as you rest in his arms. It was domestic. He liked it.

The two of you fall asleep like that — half naked, too tired to shower off the nightmare called prom.

Jason doesn't like visiting your place while in gear. He's usually bloody with someone else's blood by the end of patrol, and he'd rather bleed out in the Batcave than your room, but he doesn't have much of a choice this time, gash too big. He calls for backup with a press of the button, letting himself rest on your balcony for a moment.

"Jesus fucking christ," You throw your window open, first aid kit in your hand. "Do I need to get used to this?"

"Nope."

"You're fucking lucky I chose sportsmed as my pathway in high school, you nerd." You grumble, sterilizing the needle and disinfecting his wound. "You need stitches."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and take it." You shove a cloth into his mouth. "That's clean. Bite if it hurts."

"I've taken worse befo— oW!" He bites into the cloth as you start stitching him up. Your fingers are fast, and in a couple of minutes, his wound is stitched up. You wrap the gauze and bandage around his waist, securing it. Jason notices you're frowning the whole time.

"Not the first time, huh?"

"I hope it's the last." You grumble. "Did you call for backup?"

"Night's coming."

You sigh, leaning back against the railing on your side. "What happened?"

"Some guy with a sharp ass knife."

You raise a brow at him.

"It was a henchman. Six to one."

"Fucking hell." You grimace. "You're not gonna die one of these days, right?"

"I've dodged death once. I can do it again."

"Don't say shit like that." You grumble.

"Little wing! Oh, hey," Nightwing smiles at you, and you nod.

"I stitched him up. Have Al check him at home too, please. He's got more experience than me."

"We will. Thanks for patching him up."

"I hope it's the last time." You grumble. "Are you going tomorrow?"

"Might stay home. Send me the notes?" You don't need to see Jason's face to see him wince.

"Sure."

You've visited the Wayne manor more than enough times to know how to get to Jason's room, showing Alfred the notes from school, a grin on your face. You apologize for intruding, only for Alfred to tell you you're welcome whenever. You wonder if his family knows the two of you are dating. You have a feeling Tim caught his BeReal from when the two of you first started going out. Oh, well. It wasn't as if you needed to hide it from his family. Your parents were the harder ones.

"Hey," You wave at Jason. "Brought your notes and homework."

"Thanks. Anything from Lit?"

"Nope. Still the end of year project. You gonna be there for AP testing?"

"Yeah." He mumbles. "You gonna sleep while testing again?"

"Yeah." You deadpan. "Hundred percent."

"C'mere," He grabs you by the waist, sitting you on his lap as he continues on his laptop.

"Whatcha up to?"

"Hacking the CIA's firewalls." He mumbles, fingers clicking on the keyboard.

"That's a Tim answer." You raise your brow. "Why are you doing it?"

"Wanted to see if I got rusty."

You watch as he does, blinking in surprise when he manages to get into the files, scrolling through the files.

"Are you deleting your file in the CIA database?"

"I do it to fuck with em." He smiles. "Wanna read my file?"

"Fuck, yeah." You mumble, scrolling through all the information they had on him. "They never got your blood sample?"

"Never. The goons who get my blood don't have the equipment for DNA matching, and they would definitely not work with the CIA."

"You're on a watchlist, then?"

"I run crime in Gotham."

"An antihero." You point at the line in the file. "You minimize crime by controlling it from within."

"It's good to have a leg in everything."

"That's a lot of legs." You count on your hand. "Way more than two."

"You know what I mean."

You grin. "Yeah. I do."

"Wanna go anywhere before grad?"

"Wanna drive to New York?"

"And blow daddy's money?"

"Your daddy's money," You tap his chest playfully.

"He won't even notice." He smiles. "Motor or car?"

"Car."

"Bet."

AP testing could be a lot better. You sleep through half of it, finishing your multiple choice and essay questions too fast, exhaustion all over your face when you finish, calling your friend your savior as she hands you your coffee order. You could leave early if you really wanted to, but you don't, for some weird reason, and you stick by the rest of your classes, physically exhausted from all of the APs. Your coffee does little to minimize the psychic damage you received while taking the exam.

Even when Jason takes you to get dinner together, you're half picking through your food, half actually eating.

"Tired?"

"I can't wait to graduate." You mumble. "At least we don't need to be here during finals week."

"You gonna travel?"

"Wanna fly to Bruce's place in Hawaii?"

"Too cliche," Jason mumbles. "How about his mansion in the Alps?"

You gasp. "Deadass?"

"I can ask. I doubt he'd say no." Jason reaches for a fry on your plate, his empty.

"Want the rest of them?"

"Not hungry?"

"Not really." You reach for the second half of the sandwich. "Burnt out, more."

"Wanna take two weeks of independent study to run for the Alps?" Jason blurts.

You blink at him incredulously. "My parents would kill me."

"Not if I have Bruce lie and say it's for a camp."

You tilt your head at him. "My dad hates your dad."

"He does?"

"Daddy issues. Inferiority complex." You chew on the sandwich. "Doesn't matter. Send me a ticket. I'll lie and say it was for a class project to try and figure out the probability of lotteries and by some weird stroke of luck I got it."

"Gotcha."

The lie works, and the two of you take two weeks of independent study for the Alps, something only three people know the real reason for. It's really only Jason's family. The two of you both have stellar grades — it doesn't matter if you take a break. You wander into the Wayne mansion, surprised at everything you see. It's kept in crazy good condition despite the lack of servants.

"You guys got a maid here or something?" You mumble at the lack of dust.

"Bruce had it cleaned a couple days ago because I said we'd be coming."

"Can we wear cute clothes and head to the farmer's market?"

"Of course."

You pause. "Are we still going to New York?"

"Do you not want to anymore?"

"No." You hum. "I'm down. I just figured since we're in the Alps..."

"We're still going unless you cancel."

"Not canceling." You cross your arms. "Definitely not cancelling."

You find out just how much money Jason gets in a month's allowance on the trip. You're not allowed to pay for anything, jaw dropping at the black card that you didn't know a teen could even own, and the sheer amount of cash that Jason had was just baffling. You felt bad at first, only for Jason to pull up his bank records and show you just how much money was in his account. You wish you were born as a billionaire's son. Maybe you should've stolen car tires to get adopted by Bruce Wayne — the thought makes you laugh.

"You feel better?"

"If dating you means self care trips, I'm going to get down on a knee and propose. If we break up, I'll haunt you to your death." You yawn, grabbing another handful of blueberries. "Kill myself, even."

"That's a little extreme. I have no plans to break up with you." Jason pushes his shades up, turning to look at you.

"How's Gotham? Aren't you supposed to be there to control crime n shit?"

"Burner phone." He waves the old device in his hand. "Henchmen."

"Loyal?"

"Enough." Jason hums. "Wanna go to the fields later?"

"Yeah. Let's bike." You grin.

The fields of grass remind you of Jason's eyes, a green that you only got to see during spring and the rare moments of peace in Gotham. Dare you say it, it reminds you of Ivy's plants sometimes. Or the look of that one time toxins spilled into the river. The green of his eyes is vibrant in all the best and worst ways, but it's still dazzling to you. Laying in the grass makes you remember your date in the park. This time, the fields are pretty much empty.

"Wanna pick up from the park?" Jason rests on his side, fingers tapping your chest.

"I thought I told you I'm not doing anything indecent in public."

"Making out is hardly indecent."

"Your teenage hormones and the way you've been staring at my tits in this dress? Indecent." You yawn, turning to face him. "Does Bruce have cameras in the mansion?"

"Not in the master bath."

"Deal."

"Don't fall asleep this time."

"Oi," You punch him lightly. "Rude. That was after prom. I was tired."

"Just saying."

You punch him again in retaliation.

Jason wastes no time in having you, fingers pressed to your skin again, harder this time, nipping and biting at your skin, ignoring the way you try to tell him not to leave visible marks. You could live with a couple hickeys for two weeks. He nips at your neck, sliding the sundress down your shoulders, tugging at the string hiding your tits from him, lips pressing to you again as your fingers thread through his hair.

Jason didn't think it would be possible to love someone to this extent. He watches as you breathe in his arms, head pressed to his chest, bare skin pressed onto his, chests meeting. His fingers brush your cheek, heart warm and alive, lashes fluttering as he continues staring, hickeys formed on your skin, something you'd probably smack him for later. But he's sure you enjoyed it. He made sure that you did. He holds his breath as you shift in his arms.

"G'mornin." You mumble.

"Mornin'." He smiles.

"'m sore." You grumble. "Bitch." You punch him weakly.

"Was it good, though?" Jason laughs at your frown.

"Yeah." You sigh. "I'll go make breakfast."

"I'll do it."

"You're going to burn the kitchen down. No." You grumble. "Carry me around... I'll cook?"

Jason lifts you in a chair as you tell him to move you around, laughing when he starts ignoring you on purpose, smile on his face when you call for him. He complies after the third time, helping you plate the food and adjusting your seat height so you were comfortable.

"You should cook for me forever."

"I think you should move into my college dorm with me." You deadpan. "Just join me there. Bruce can donate a building or something."

"That's illegal."

"And you're a white man. Pick a privilege."

"Should I go blonde for the full white man privilege?" Jason taps his chin. "Would I look good blonde?"

"You'd give your family a heart attack, that's for sure." You mumble. "We should photoshop you to make you blonde."

"Are you into blondes?"

"I'm into you." You smile, the two of you going quiet before a laugh breaks past your lips. "I've been waiting to use that."

"I can tell." Jason hums, lips pulled into a smile.

"If you go blonde..." You pause. "No. Don't go blonde. Blonde gym rats scare me."

"Excuse you, I am not a gym rat."

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb during patrol." You grimace. "It's all black and then your hair is glowing in the dark like you're a flashlight."

"That's just insulting." Jason covers his mouth. "I wear a helmet, babe."

"It's the truth."

"Bruce would have a heart attack." Jason hums. "Sounds tempting."

"We can bleach your hair while here." You offer. "Your whole head."

"And ruin my perfect hair? No thanks."

"Says the loser with white hair."

"Now that's insulting." He taps your nose, frowning. "You and I both know why I have white hair."

"Cuz you almost died?"

"Yeah."

The two of you settle with Photoshop instead, cutting and pasting some random guy's blonde hair on top of Jason's, making him bald in the process. You take a photo to send to Dick and Tim, putting blue eyes on top of Jason's too, turning him into the textbook white man. You fall over in with the chair from how hard you laugh, Jason left to deal with the result of you sending the family his white man portrait. Dick sends a portrait to get edited too, and you go through the whole family, giving them blonde hair and blue eyes. You send the family photo into the groupchat, changing all of their contact photos to the edited version of them in the process. Jason finds it pointless, but from how hard you're laughing, he lets it pass.

"So? Do I look good blonde?"

"You look good no matter what you look like." You hum, leaning into his chest as you delete any evidence of the images on the desktop. "But really, you should join me for college."

"Too much work."

"You're a valedictorian."

"So are you."

You sigh. "I'm going to be all aloneeeeee."

"I'll call you every day."

"You can't promise that."

"We can call while I'm on patrol."

"Babe, I'll be asleep by then."

"With your sleep schedule?"

You go quiet.

"That's what I thought."

"We should send each other photos every day."

"One of those cheesy phone apps?"

"Yeah." You grin. "Or make video diaries."

"I'm not making a video diary."

"I'll make you video diaries to show you what I do in a day." You grin.

"Will I get to see your tits?"

"When I change, sure."

The two of you fly back at the end of the week, the hickeys from Jason all faded and the scratches from you all healed. It was like it never happened — save for the teeth mark you left on Jason's chest before leaving. You just wanted a bite, nothing more.

Both you and Jason turn in all your work when you return, grades still intact, end of the school year at your fingertips, buying tickets for grad. Jason has to buy more tickets from the students because of how big his family is. You joke that Bruce is going to end up with 14 grandchildren. The way Jason grimaces makes you think that it isn't exactly impossible. You don't want to find out.

You help Jason pin his grad cap into his hair so he doesn't look bald.

"Where was this idea when I graduated?" Dick clicks his tongue as you pin Jason's hair down.

"Probably with the girls," You have Jason shake his head to check if the cap was secure. It is. "I saw your grad photos. It's the classic image everyone gets."

"You gonna pin my cap in for my grad too?" Tim hums.

"Don't you have a girlfriend?"

"No?" He raises a brow.

"Huh. Thought you did." You shrug. "I'll do it if you don't have any friends who figure it out."

The two of you head out, waving bye to the Wayns as Jason sits in his car.

"We're meeting in the gym, right?"

"Yeah. No bags." Jason hums.

"I'll just clip all of these," You clip them onto your gown.

Graduation is a blur as you take photos with your friends and with Jason, fireworks going off in the back, lips pressed to his in the darkness, pulling away when the two of you break into your own respective friend groups, photos taken with each other. You wonder if you should just introduce Jason to your parents officially at grad. You find that you don't have much of a choice when you spot Dick with your parents. You have no idea how he did it.

"Little wing!"

Jason groans at the nickname. "Hey, Dick."

"You're done!" Dick puts Jason into a headlock, and you take the flowers from your parents.

"Congrats." They smile at you.

You smile back. "Thank you. Ah, uh, this is Jason."

"We've met." Your mom smiles at Jason and he stands up, sighing.

"Dick, don't be rude."

"No, like," You pause, grimacing. Jason takes your hand, rubbing soothing circles, speaking up instead.

"We're dating."

"Oh." Your mom blinks, eyes wide.

"How long?" Your dad cuts in.

Jason looks at you as you swallow, squeezing his hand. "Since the first day of senior year."

Your dad is about to speak up when Dick spots Bruce and the rest of his siblings, waving for them at the spot. Your mom squeezes your arm, almost as if to tell you that you would talk later about it. Jason pulls you off to meet the rest of his family, Cass placing a lei around your neck, congratulating you for graduating. You smile at her thanking Bruce as he hands you a card. You don't want to think about what's inside of it. You slip that into the gift bag Tim hands you, thanking his family for the gifts, only to get pulled to the side by your other friends' families, more photos taken and leis thrown around your neck. You catch Jason end up pulled to the side by his friends, and you somehow end up in the mix.

By the end of the night, you're thoroughly spent, slouching in the back of your parents' car, exhaustion all over your face.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Your mother's voice is quiet.

"Didn't think you'd approve."

"Then why date him?" Your dad speaks up this time, voice hard. "If you knew we didn't want you dating that Wayne kid, why did you—"

"Cuz I like him." You sigh. "Love him a lot. Love him like the two of you love each other."

"You can't guarantee that. You're only in high school." Your mother reasons. "I'm sure there are—"

"Don't want another." You mumble, curling into the gift bag Tim handed you. "I know he's the one."

The car stops at the red light, and you glance to look at your dad's expression.

"Since when?"

"I told you, start of the school year—"

"No. When did you decide it was alright to keep secrets?" He raises his voice, and you wince.

"Honey, she's young, she'll—"

You blink, exhaustion in your body making it impossible for you to argue back with him, the arguing would have been futile anyway. You wonder if Jason is enjoying his graduation party. Maybe he's getting the night off from patrol since it was graduation. Maybe you'll text him later when you get home. You probably won't. You're too tired for it. Your dad's yelling is tuned out automatically, your body on autopilot when you bring everything to your room and drop it to the ground. You really hope Tim didn't bring you something that would break easily. You'll look tomorrow.

The knock at your window after you shower makes you pause.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanna go grapple?" Jason smiles.

"My hair is wet. I don't wanna catch a cold."

"Put it in the helmet. It's waterproof." He pops it off his head, locking it around your neck. You glance at his domino mask.

"Do I need shoes?"

"I'll carry you the whole time." He hums. "Lock your door."

"Already did." You adjust the helmet on your head, wrapping your arms around his neck as he warps an arm around your waist. You hear the sound of the hook launch, and you stare through his helmet as he swings you into the air, the city of Gotham beneath you, warm wind of summer blowing against you, the cityscape rendering you breathless. The sound of screams and cars cancel each other out as Jason lands on a roof, adjusting his hold on you so you'd be more comfortable.

"So?" He raises a brow at you.

"It's gorgeous." You grin, turning to look at him. "Do you see this every night?"

"Only when I grapple. Usually I don't get to see because I'm grappling to catch a criminal."

"I love it." You hum.

"Want a batburger?"

"Fuck yeah."

The two of you swing down to the place as Jason puts you down in a booth to order. You fold your legs up, grinning at Jason as he hands you an ice cream.

"How'd you know I didn't want a burger?" You raise a brow.

"Too late for burgers." He hums. "You said you only liked ice cream after two."

"Thank you." You beam, watching Jason stare at you. "Something happen?"

"Your dad looked like he was going to hit you." Jason mumbles. "Did he hit you later?"

"No. He just got mad I kept it from him..." You pause. "And that I'm dating you. They think you're going to break up with me."

"Hope they have fun at the wedding, then." Jason hums. "You're alright?"

"I tuned them out on the car ride home." You smile.

"Alright. Dick was worried too. He said your dad looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel when I pulled you to my family." Jason hums. "Should I have dinner with them sometime?"

"No. They aren't going with me to move for college, so it doesn't matter." You mumble.

"You need help packing? I can send Cass."

"It's fine." You tap his hand. "I promise."

"Are you cutting ties with them?"

Your breath catches in your throat. "I... don't know."

"If you do, Bruce says he'd be more than willing to fund your education." Jason whispers.

"Woah, I'm already part of your family?" You gasp.

"Yeah." He nods. "So if you cut ties with your family, you have mine."

"I'll be fine." You mumble, staring at his hand. "I promise."

Your parents don't catch you. As mad as they could get, they didn't really care about what you did in your free time. Not even when you snuck out. You don't know why they're so mad about the whole dating situation, but given Bruce and Dick's public images, you aren't surprised they'd think Jason would do the same — even given the fact that you had been friends with him since you started high school.

When you get ready for work the next day, you barely notice the way your parents are sitting on the couch like you owe them a conversation.

"Young lady, where are you going?"

"Work." You turn to look at them.

"Or on a date?"

"This is what I wear to work." You repeat yourself.

Your dad raises a brow at you but doesn't speak further when you leave.

You're really contemplating running away from home. You don't have an actual reason to, so you stay home for the most part, ignoring the knocks on your door and hopping out your window when you wanted to go somewhere. Jason resorts to calling you when he isn't jumping in your window to talk with you for a bit. You can do with the distance, but it isn't ideal. The exhaustion from your lack of mobility is catching up to you.

"What do you think could change their minds?"

You frown, finishing first in Mario Kart. "Nothing."

"Not even a dinner?"

You frown. "They don't like the rich."

"They know I'm adopted, right?"

"They won't like that you're an orphan either."

"They're picky."

"Really picky." You grumble. "Last time I brought a boy home, they scared him off."

"They won't be able to scare me off, you know?"

"Yeah." You pause. "Maybe you should eat with them sometime."

"Dinner?"

You frown. "They're hosting a barbecue next week. I'll invite you."

"You're going to force me into the guest list?"

"It's better with more people." You mumble. "The fact that you were wearing a valedictorian gown might also help."

"When is it?"

"Next Saturday at 5pm." You mumble. "You know how to barbecue?"

"Would it surprise you if I say yes?"

"Yeah." You hum. "You know any of my friends' families?"

"Two. Good terms too."

"Alright. Don't be late."

"Should I bring meat?"

You seriously contemplate asking him if he wants to bring Wagyu, but you decide against it. "Bring beer."

"Ey, we can't drink yet."

"I'll rush to help you. My dad's probably going to get me to buy beer anyway."

"The expensive kind?"

"I'll send you a couple of brands." You pause. "Invite Dick too."

"To charm your mom?"

"Yeah." You grin. "To charm my mom and her friends."

You know your parents better than Jason realizes. When you help him bring the beer into your house, your father's expression softens, asking Jason if he wanted a bottle. Jason turns it down, mentioning that he still has to drive home later, also that he wasn't technically at the legal drinking age — not that it stopped people. You let out a breath you were holding when your dad pats him on the back and walked off to talk to the other people.

"So?"

"Went well." You mumble. "How good are you at barbecuing?"

"I'm on barbecue duty when we do it at our place."

"You're practically a barbecue dad." You gasp. "Woah."

"Yeah?"

"You have the build too. You're only missing a hawaiian shirt now." You pat his back. "You can go figure out how to help at the grill, I have to go check on my mom."

"Hope Dick hasn't stolen her from your dad."

"I sure hope not." You wince.

It ends well, the barbecue. You don't get yelled at for inviting Jason, and your mother tells you all about how Dick was such a charmer, a real ladies' guy. Your dad doesn't mention it, but from the way he kept eating, you can guess he liked Jason's grill skills. You should text him about it. Maybe you'd go for their summer barbecues sometime. You don't know.

Your dad pulls you to the side the next day.

"I'm sorry for lashing out." He pauses. "I was. It's stressful, knowing you're dating the second son of a family of players."

"I get it." You swallow. Not really. Your goal is just to make sure he likes Jason now.

"He's... he's good for you." Your dad smiles at you weakly.

You wonder if he's only saying this because Jason wouldn't leave your side earlier. Or maybe it was because your mother had told him that Jason looks at you like you're his whole world. You don't know why. But you suppose his acceptance is enough. At least you're allowed outside of the house now. You tighten the straps of your swimwear around your neck before leaving the house.

"He was good with you leaving?" Jason hands you a helmet for the bike.

"Yeah. Trusts you." You mumble. "Think Dick did a lot of work. Did you thank him?"

"Yeah." Jason hums. "Hope you're not tired of barbecue."

"Am I going to yours for it?"

"You can taste Alfred's cooking, and you can get a little more of mine." He hums. "Arms around the waist, babe."

"I'm excited." You mumble, lips quirking up as you wrap your arms around his waist. "Ooh, rock hard."

"I'm going to leave you here."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Love you too much for it."

The Wayne Manor is a mansion. Well, that much has been established, you suppose. You are, however, surprised to see a giant ass backyard with a huge ass pool. You've never been to the backyard, now that you think of it. Jason's never taken you.

"Did you bring swimwear?"

"Under the clothes," You pull your shirt over your head, ditching the shorts. "Tadaa!"

Jason laughs. "Put the shirt back on. Your tits are for me to see only, babe."

You frown. "Why not your shirt?"

Jason pulls his shirt over his head, throwing it at you. "That good enough?"

"Sure." You pull your arms through, placing your stuff to the side, jumping into the water to join his siblings.

You like the manor. Despite the constant bickering, the place felt warm, and that wasn't something you got often. The house is warm. It's warm as the Gotham sun burns into your back when you sit in the water by the ledge, head resting in your arms, it's warm when the charcoal in the grill burns, and it's warm when Cass pulls you out of the water to dry off before dinner. You could smell the food from where you were in the pool — you might just move here for the food.

Jason fills your plate for you, grabbing a little bit of everything, cutting your steak for you in advance as his family watches in awe.

"Little wing is capable of this?!"

"Steph, you owe me twenty."

"Bruce, you owe me 20k." Cass pokes at their dad as he stares at Jason.

"They bet on you?"

"Heard I got a girlfriend a while ago, and suddenly they started fighting each other over what kind of a boyfriend I would be." He switches plates with you, shrimp peeled and steak cut. "Oyster's clean, by the way."

"I'm gonna marry you."

"We've established this, I know."

You shrug, stabbing the shrimp. "Just reminding you."

"Don't beat me to the proposal, by the way." He points his knife at you.

"Master Jason." Alfred clears his throat, and Jason puts his knife down.

"Sorry, Alfred."

You hold a shrimp to his lips. "C'mon. As a thank you."

"Oh, at least you care." He bites down, chewing. "Don't beat me."

"I hope you get me a red diamond just to empty your pockets." You mumble.

"You want a ring with a gem worth a million dollars?"

"Yeah." You grin, holding a piece of steak to his lips. "You don't wanna give it to me?"

"I'll steal it."

"Oh, how romantic." You quiet down as you start eating the steak.

"You really want a red diamond?"

You glance at him, lips pulled into the fakest smile you can manage. "Yeah."

"Want it before you leave?" Jason raises a brow, the skin on his own shrimp finally peeled.

"You telling me you're gonna propose to me right out of high school? That's a recipe for disaster."

"Babe, we've been a disaster." He hums. "From you not telling your parents to me sneaking you to Switzerland to skip school, we have not been normal at all."

"Don't forget about New York."

"When is that again?"

You pretend to be offended. "I'm breaking up with you."

"I don't know what just happened, but I'm on her side." Dick cuts in.

"Me too."

"Me three."

"Guys." Jason groans.

"It's fine. We never set a date. How about in two weeks?" You hum.

"Yeah." He mumbles. "Wanna leave in the morning?"

"Sure. There's less cars then, huh?"

"We can stay at Bruce's penthouse."

"Does he have a house everywhere? New trivia game, where does Bruce Wayne NOT have a house?" You mumble.

"I don't have a place in Finland." Bruce calls from the end of the table.

You hold a hand over your mouth. "You got a place in Dubai?"

"A whole building."

"Woah..." You mumble. "How 'bout China?"

"Got a penthouse."

You blink in surprise. "Singapore?"

"Own a mansion there."

"You're not even a crazy rich asian." You mumble. "That should be a trivia game."

"For family game night?" Jason raises a brow at you, plate now empty.

"Yeah." You switch plates with him. "Which place does Bruce Wayne not own property."

"You're full?"

"Mhm." You nod. "You can have the rest."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." You mumble.

Jason's driving does not scare you. You feel like it should, considering he drives pretty rough, but it does not scare you. If anything, you're worried about getting ticketed. Well, not like he was driving past the speed limit. At least you have the aux.

"How'd you convince your parents to let you go?"

"Told em it was a girls' trip." You yawn. "Lied straight through my teeth."

"You're awful."

"You're the influence."

"Makes both of us awful I guess." Jason hums. "We're staying at a hotel instead of Bruce's."

"Why's that?"

"Wanna have you without his security cameras."

You laugh. "Your horny little teenage brain."

"Both of us."

"Nuh-uh," You shake your head. "I don't think about jumping you. I think about biting you nonsexually."

"Yeah?"

You go quiet. "And marking you up. No visible marks this time." You deadpan. "New York is a hot mess and I still need to try clothes on."

"You gonna go shopping on fifth avenue?"

"Will you let me?"

"Go blow my money."

"Then I won't go easy."

Jason leans on the wall as you show him different clothes, doing a little spin for him when he asked. You try a bunch of stuff on only to buy three articles of clothing. You still feel bad for spending his money. Besides, he was paying for the hotel. You really wonder if you should buy him coffee as a thank you or something. Though, as Jason rips the tag directly off one of the dresses you try on, the thought disappears.

"We'll take this one." He hands the tag to the cashier. "Keep it on. You look good."

"Thank you." You grin, taking the bags from Jason as he pulls out his card. You blink as he swipes it without thinking. You wonder if you'd get to live a life like that.

"Thinking?" He takes the bags from your hand again, card in his wallet.

"I wanna be a rich kid..." You mumble. "I'd love to be rich."

"You have me."

"Yeah, but it's still different from being rich yourself." You hum. "Let's head back for the day."

"Tired?"

You frown. "I don't want you swiping your card any more."

"Why not?" He moves his bags onto one hand, lacing his fingers with yours. "It's for you. Bruce is fine with it."

"Yeah, but." Your face drops. "too much."

"Alright. But this much," Jason holds the bags up. "That isn't really considered much if you consider—"

"I'm not one of them, Jay." You squeeze his hand. "I'm fine with what you've got me already. Wanna go to the ice cream museum tomorrow?"

"Sure." He smiles. "Make the reservations."

"Got it." You grin.

Because no matter how willing Jason is when it comes to swiping his card for you, he still respects your words. Even when you're telling him it's too much, he knows when you truly draw the line, in the way your eyes harden and your voice drops. Jason would spill his entire fortune for you, anything for you, just for your happiness. That was all that mattered to him — the little sparkle in your eye when you were happy, the small upward tug of your lips when you were content, the way your body relaxed when you were truly at peace. You. As long as you were happy, he was happy. Hand on your cheek and lips pressed to yours, he was happy.

"You gonna miss me in college?" He squeezes your cheek as you stare at the NYU banner.

"Definitely." You hum. "You should go here."

"Why's that?"

"It's where all the rich kids go." You grin.

"Daddy's money could get me into your school too." He smiles, leaning down to press his forehead to yours teasingly.

"Then why not use it?"

"Cause Bruce actually values honesty." He pulls away, glancing at the banner.

"And you?" You tilt your head.

"I don't care." He grins. "Want me to get in with Daddy's money?"

"Want you to join me next year with just your grades."

"Want me to leave the city behind for you?"

"Yeah."

"Just to join you?"

"Yeah."

"One year, babe."

"Bet."

You take a photo with him at your school when you move, scribbling 1 year in pencil on the picture.

A year later, Jason's your dormmate, a new photo pinned on the mini bulletin board in the room.

Jason presses his lips to your forehead as you shift in the morning sun, smile on his lips as he greets you. You mumble a greeting back, falling asleep again. His lips pull into a gentle smile, closing his own eyes. His breathing syncs with yours, hearts beating together, the rays of the morning sun warming his skin as he shields you from the light. You never liked waking up because the curtains were too sheer.

For him, even getting you a star in the sky seemed like a menial task.

After all, if you were happy, so was he.

And as he feels your body relax into the mattress, he's sure you'd say the same for him.

#jason todd x reader #jason x reader #hate basic ass names #todd x reader #jason todd imagine #dc x reader #☾.fics

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contraryclock · 3 months ago

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stupid ass Don Quixote ramblings

hi this is my first tumblr post but i really wanted a good place to put this

spoilers for all of current limbus company, including Murder on the warp Express, the Don Quixote book (( kinda )), and a musical (( i'll get there ))

please humor this deranged rant about a character i havent read the source book of

so basically ive had a theory since Don was even teased that she's less so based on book Don Quixote and moreso based on the Man of La Mancha musical which is. an insane thing to suggest but hear me out here (( ive since changed how i word my stance to the much more mild "it will most likely delve into the themes of both works and reference both" because suggesting they would discount the book entirely is TRUE insanity ))

her quote (( from teaser tweets that i cannot find anymore? they seem like they were deleted which sucks )) was "To reach the unreachable star!" or something which is notably not a quote from the original book ((as far as im aware at least?)), and suggests. a lot i think!

One of the most notable differences between Man of La Mancha and the original Don Quixote is their tone and attitude towards Quixote. In the original text, he's shown to be a fool who is ignorant to the vastly more interesting world around him, and prefers to instead sink deeper into his delusions of reality equating to chivalric literature. This makes sense as Don Quixote was written as a parody and mockery of the genre

La Mancha is, notably, much more forgiving on Quixote's character, showing that while still a fool, and his insanity often detrimental to those around him, he is still a good person at heart and that he truly wishes to pursue this justice he posits

I usually say it as "Don Quixote is about how reality is beautiful, and La Mancha is about how sometimes one should strive to make reality a little more fantastical" although i dont know if that. is the most accurate comparison. both Don Quixote and La Mancha have a lot of themes and stuff going on

one of the things that made me scream was learning about "Miguel" being written on don's LCB combat spritesheet instead of her listed name

which if you've seen or read a summary of la mancha is a huge alarm bell

In La Mancha, the whole thing is shown as a Play within a Play

Miguel de Cerventes is sent to prison, awaiting trial by the inquisition, and is tasked with defending himself in a mock trial with the other prisoners so they dont take his belongings. His defense is Don Quixote, Man of La Mancha! With the prisoners acting out the various roles he assigns them, and him acting as the leading man, Don Quixote himself!

that was most of the things that made me think "Oh, maybe it'll be La Mancha!" and then this happened

and i sort of lost my god damned mind

because like what if this is miguel... what if shes simultaneously playing out her life as don quixote as a her delusion, and as her dream, but also as a statement...

idk but this isnt JUST about Man of La Mancha bc i think this has a few implications for how don's canto is going to go

In both don quixote and la mancha, they send someone to cure quixote of his delusions

The final thing they try is setting up an act where a "Knight of Mirrors" duels with Quixote, which ends up working.

The Knight forces Quixote to see how he is perceived by others, to see the truth that he is no knight.

ignoring the stuff with vampires and mirrors for a second, i feel like this could be more mirror world shenanigans, where either the knight IS a mirror world don quixote, or is someone who will show her mirror worlds. Whatever that will imply!!! i dont know its exciting!!!!!

Her being absurdly old and powerful, plus bloodfiends having a whole familial adjacent hierarchy makes me think theres a LOT of bloodfiends out there that would want her back

I dunno!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

im insane!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! i just wanted to get my thoughts out before her canto actually happened so i can say that i did indeed have an opinion on this

-limbus assets taken form Lunartique's asset google drive go look at it -text written by me and not proofread

ok thanks bye dont follow me byeee byeeeeee

#limbus company #don quixote #limbus spoilers #project moon #ramblings #if her name ends up being confirmed as Miguel i will cry so loudly in a joyous chorus of crying loudly #forgive me #fan theory #limbus don quixote #lcb

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hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

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✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 6: Seventeen bias wrecker - Dino✨️

Affect

AN: This has been in my drafts for 600 years because those clips of him from In The Soop still haunt me. I just think it's funny that because it took me so long to get to this, we got even more shirtless Dino in the gym content recently. Clearly a sign from the universe to finish this lmao. I was going to go on a whole unhinged rant about him but, I'll spare you all. We're all going to ignore that 1. his is the longest so far and 2. I've written the most for him out of every idol, thanks.

Synopsis: You thought working out with Chan would be a fun, productive way to spend time together. However, you're sorely unprepared for just how distracting he can be.

Heads up: Lee Chan x Fem! Reader, friends to lovers of sorts, Reader going through it because of her attraction to Chan, praise kink (f. receiving), Chan being a menace, technically public sex I guess (they fuck in the gym but, no one catches them and it's not brought up as a concern), hair pulling, dirty talk, petnames used for Reader, nipple play (f. receiving), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little and creampie.

Word count: 4138

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

You knew you were doomed the moment you saw Chan in his workout clothing. His shirt sticking to his torso and practically acting like a second skin. You're sure if you looked hard enough, you could see the outlines of his nipples. His shorts were worse, somehow. Beckoning you to look at his toned thighs and zero in on how they hugged his ass.

Today is going to be more challenging than you anticipated.

"So, where do you want to start?" He asks, snapping you out of so blatantly ogling one of your closest friends. God, what're you thinking? You're here to spend time with him. Not think about how broad his shoulders are and just how muscular his ass would feel if you gave it a squeeze or five.

"You're the gym expert. You tell me," You pray to whichever deity is listening that Chan mistakes the delicate quality in your voice for anything other than how much just seeing him dressed like this affects you.

His laugh is boisterous and fills you with so much warmth, turning the already present butterflies in your stomach into dragons. One person shouldn't have this much power over you.

"I better not hear any complaining then," he responds with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling with mirth. Yeah, maybe being alone with the man you're borderline in love with isn't the wisest decision you've ever made, but it's too late now. You resist the scowl that wants to make itself known on your face when you invision a knowing Soonyoung in your mind. He's the one who suggested this to begin with. You're definitely going to be having some words with him the next time you see him, that evil man. He knew exactly what he was doing.

You severely underestimated how much worse this could get. You thought just seeing him in his tight-fitting gym attire was enough to fog up your brain but, that was before you heard the noises.

Lee Chan is a vocal man in all areas of life. Well, all areas of life that you've experienced him in. He's always talking, laughing, yelling at points, singing, sometimes rapping to fill the silence, and a million other things. The point being, Chan is not a quiet man. So, it shouldn't take you by surprise that he's vocal while he's working out too.

Still, the quiet grunts that fall from his lips and fill the otherwise relatively silent gym when he lifts weights causes your heart to beat wildly in your chest. The drawn-out groans when he finishes a set or stretches out his muscles might be the worst. Coupled with the way he grits his jaw and his face contorts when he's lifting, it's frankly a miracle you haven't spontaneously combusted.

However, as you stand and watch him while he illustrates how he wants you to lift these weights to your absolute horror and mortification, you realise you're getting wet. Not only that, but a barely there ache is beginning to make itself known between your thighs.

You're sure your face is radiating enough heat to power a small apartment building. You're really getting this worked up just watching him work out? What in the world is wrong with you? Are you truly this needy? You definitely need to call Soonyoung after this and yell at him until you're hoarse.

"Do you want to try now?" Chan asks you, kind eyes focused on you. You really might be the world's worst friend.

"Yeah, sure," you respond, pulling yourself together as best as you can given that you're unravelling at the seams. The weights aren't too heavy. You test them in your hold momentarily before imitating Chan's movements. There's a slight burn in your biceps but, otherwise you feel fine. It feels good, even. The slight burn fueling you.

"That's my girl,"

Oh.

Oh no.

That's all it takes for you to falter. Your mind suddenly completely forgetting the motions for the exercise you watched minutes ago.

"You were doing good just now but, try doing it this way," he says, standing up from where he'd been seated to watch you. His hands correcting your hold on the weights and the positioning of your arms. Every brush of his fingers on your skin leaves electricity in their wake. Fuck. Fuck this is bad. This is so bad.

Trying to remember how to be a normal human being, you nod at his words. Following his guidance and resuming the exercise precisely how he showed you now that your brain is semi-functional again.

"There you go. Good job," perhaps you should be a little more concerned about just how much his praise increases your pulse and worsens the way your panties are already sticking to you, but that's a thought for examining on another day. You can only handle so much right now.

"How about some pull-ups next?"

"Chan, do I strike you as the kind of person even capable of doing a single pull-up?"

"You could learn today,"

When all you respond with is a stone faced expression, he seems to get the message loud and clear, "Okay, fine. I'll do pull-ups and you do squats. How does that sound?"

"Now you're speaking my language,"

On the ever growing list of 'things you're violently unprepared for today', the next to be added is Chan just casually taking off his shirt. That stops you dead in your tracks. Your lips parting as his bare back comes into your line of sight. You thought it was broad before, but now? Seeing it completely bare? Broad feels like too simplistic of a word to describe it.

You knew, logically, that Chan was ripped. You've seen his arms, paying special attention to them more times than you care to admit. All of the guys work out regularly, and most of them mention Chan as one of the more dedicated members of the group when it came to hitting the gym.

You knew all of that, and yet, seeing the evidence a mere few metres in front of your very eyes leaves you speechless and stunned. Chan must notice your blatantly staring because he turns to look at you over his shoulder, "Is everything okay?"

You must struggle to come up with a believable response too long because he both looks and sounds panicked as he continues on, "Shit, did I make you uncomfortable? I should've asked if you were okay with me taking my shirt off. I'm sorry."

His panic must be infectious because you soon find yourself in a similar state, "No, no, Chan, it's okay. You did nothing wrong. I don't mind you being shirtless," quite the opposite actually, and that's the issue, but you decide to keep that bit to yourself.

"Are you sure? I really don't mind putting it back on if it's a problem,"

"Yes, I'm sure. It's really not a big deal,"

He looks unsure briefly but seems to accept your words. Giving you a nod before turning back to face the pull-up bar and begin his routine. You barely register the faint sting in your thighs from how deeply your nails are clawing into them. Eagle eyes drinking in as much as you can of every muscle contraction of his back. Your panties growing uncomfortably wet now as your ears are assaulted with grunts louder than the ones before.

You need to take a cold shower that lasts hours after this. At least you have a good month's worth of masturbation material now, so there's that.

Chan finishes his set far quicker than you would've liked. Sweat drenching his handsome face and droplets running down his jaw, his neck, his collarbones, his pecs until they disappear into the waistband of his shorts. Would it be so horrible to admit that you'd love to see just where those droplets wind up? That you'd happily follow their path with your tongue instead of your eyes?

"Hey, is everything okay?" Chan asks, dropkicking you out of your obscene thoughts.

"Ye-Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"It's just um you haven't really moved, and you've been kind of...staring at me?"

Oh no. Oh god, he noticed. No fucking shit he noticed you've probably been staring at him with all of the subtly of a rhino in a tea shop. Why did you have to make a day meant to be catching up with a friend so fucking weird.

"I-sorry. You're just distracting," is what comes out of your mouth in your blind panic.

"Distracting?" He asks, titling his head, "I'm distracting? Distracting how?"

By being shirtless, with all of the noises you've been making all day, by touching me, by telling me what a good job I've been doing, by just existing in the same space as me - are all of the thoughts that spring up in your mind. All the thoughts you show a great deal of restraint in not word vomiting out at him.

To your absolute mortification, an expression akin to understanding dawns on Chan's face. You've never wanted the Earth to spilt open and swallow you whole more than in this moment.

"Oh, I'm distracting huh?" Chan asks with a grin a touch too arrogant for you, taking a step towards you.

"No! It's not - I'm not - I wasn't - it wasn't like that," you stutter out, growing ever more flustered as a shirtless, sweaty Chan invades your space.

"It wasn't like what exactly?" He asks, mischief shining clear as day in his typically warm eyes.

Before you can consciously think about it, you find yourself stepping backwards. Much to the amusement of the man you're not sure if you want to kiss or throttle in front of you.

You decide to abandon the route you were on and attempt another one, "I'm sorry for staring at you."

"You don't have to apologise," Chan waves you off, "But I do want to know why you were staring,"

It's clear as day to anyone with basic critical thinking skills why you were so laser focused on his stupid back and shoulders. He just wants you to say it. You never took Chan for the humiliation type.

"You know why," you mutter, leaning against the wall that you had no idea you'd even gotten so close to. You suppose your brain is too preoccupied with trying to keep your friendship from going up into flames.

"I don't. You have to tell me," You really want to punch that shit eating grin off of his face. Your adrenaline spiking as he takes another step towards you.

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"I've heard that once or twice over the years. Still doesn't answer my question though,"

"I think you're attractive, okay?" You finally blurt out. Looking at everything but him in the gym. Studiously focused on one of the treadmills in towards the back, over his shoulder.

"Aw, I'm flattered," he responds, so close to you now that all you'd have to do is reach out, and you'd be touching his bare chest. You have a feeling this isn't going to bode well for you.

"Whatever. You got the answer you wanted. Are you happy now?"

"You know, for being one of the smartest women I know, you're pretty dense," he responds dryly.

"What? Hey!"

"Do you really think I'd react this way to anyone saying they think I'm hot? Do I really have to spell it out for you?"

All you can do is owlishly blink at him. His words washing over you, trying your hardest to digest what he just said to you.

"I think you might have to spell it out for me, yeah," you mutter more breathlessly than you care to admit. It certainly doesn't become any easier to breathe when Chan is fully in your space, crowding you against the gym wall. His scent flooding your system, worsening the wetness between your thighs and muddling your mind even more.

"Is this okay?" He whispers, mere centimetres away from your mouth. His eyes considerably darker than they were minutes ago.

"Yes,"

"May I kiss you?"

"Yes," if anyone asks, you don't sound needy in the slightest when you reply to him.

You quickly learn that Lee Chan, as with many other facets of his life, excels in kissing you until you can think of nothing but, him. Not your mind has been anywhere else for the past few hours to begin with.

Your hands make themselves at home on his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there as you pour what feels like centuries worth of yearning into this kiss.

"May I touch you?" He mutters against your mouth and, you wonder why he'd ever stop kissing you to ask such a stupid question.

"Yes, Chan. You can do whatever you want. I don't care," you rush out in response, dragging his mouth back to yours to feed into what is quickly becoming your newest addiction.

With your green light, his hands drift towards your oversized shirt. Smiling against your mouth when you shudder from the brief brushes of his fingertips along your abdomen while he toys with the hem of your shirt.

"I didn't think you'd be one to tease," you say.

"Have you thought about me like this often?" You really had to be so weak for such an insufferable man huh.

You choose to kiss him instead of replying, tugging on his hair in retaliation for the grin you know is on his face. Luckily for you, Chan seems to have had his fill of toying with you for now. Shoving your shirt upwards, pulling away from you briefly to tug it off of you fully.

He just stares at you. Want clear as day in his eyes as he watches your chest rise and fall and how your sports bra outlines your hardened nipples. You find yourself growing a little self-conscious under his heavy gaze. You hadn't picked your outfit with the goal of winding up like this in mind.

"You're staring," you finally find the courage to say, pushing down every instinct to cross your arms over your chest.

"Just returning the favour," he quips back, jumping back into action and acquainting himself with your throat. You can't help the moans and throaty gasps that leave your lips as his kisses and nips at your sensitive skin, exploiting every weak spot he can find. One of his hands reaching down to fondle your breast, running his thumb over your nipple through the fabric of your bra.

All you can manage to do is lean against the wall for stability. Every kiss and lick and squeeze sending lightning down your spine straight to your clit. You wouldn't be surprised if your legging were wet, too, at this point.

"You're so responsive," he whispers against your neck. Given how quietly he said it, you're not sure whether he meant to verbalise that thought or not, but you can't think to respond when he pushes your bra up.

He dots kisses along your breasts. Each press of his lips bringing him closer and closer to one of your nipples before he envelopes one into his warm mouth. He seems intent to wring every noise, every reaction out of you that he possibly can. Teasingly running his teeth along the sensitive bud, smiling when you arch into his touch. His nimble fingers find themselves at the waistband of your leggings. Slipping into them and pulling a particularly loud gasp from you when they come into contact with your more than likely ruined panties.

Your face burns when Chan's expression morphs into one of surprise, his fingers running along your panty covered slit as if to affirm to himself you're really this wet already.

"I didn't realise I had such a strong effect on you," he says against your breast, his voice gravelly, "Fuck, you're already so wet."

A strangled moan is all you can offer when he finds your swollen clit.

"Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll take care of you. Just need to get you out of these," he says, kneeling in front of you and pulling your leggings and panties down. You kick off your shoes impatiently to help ease the process, leaving you almost fully naked.

"I can't believe you're this wet when I haven't even touched you properly," he says, sounding genuinely amazed. Intense gaze focused on your swollen, slick slit. Lifting one of your legs and letting it rest over one of his shoulders.

Anticipation settles in your gut as Chan makes himself comfortable between your thighs. Your hips jolting into him when he experimentally touches you once more, completely bare this time. Your wetness generously coating his thick fingers. Your eyes flutter shut as he shifts closer, goosebumps rising all over your body when his warm breaths hit you.

His first lap of you is messy and passionate. A muffled groan is your only warning before he grips your thigh and all but shoves his face into you. One of your hands fists his hair, not sure if you want him even closer or whether you need a minute from the sensations wreaking your system.

"Ch-Chan ah god," you cry out, your hold on his hair worsening. He doesn't seem to mind all that much, however. Intently focused on grinding your pussy against tongue until you fall into pieces for him.

With his mouth latched onto your clit, he teases your entrance with two of his fingers and you feel faint. His eyes find yours momentarily, looking at you through his hair as he checks for any signs of discomfort or reservations. Watching your face while he slowly sinks his fingers into you. His cock leaking even more when your warm, wet walls squeeze his fingers for dear life. He's so fucked.

The stretch his fingers provide requires some adjusting to, and Chan catches onto that. Focusing his attention back on your clit and providing some distraction while you get used to his fingers.

The wall behind you is proving to be extremely helpful. You're sure you would've crumpled onto the floor by now with the way Chan is determined to devour you whole and his fingers curl inside of you. Embarrassment warming your face as the squelching sounds of your wetness and his fingers moving inside of you hit your ears. Those sounds are accompanied by louder moans and whimpers from you when his fingers strike gold. Finding your weak spot and going for the kill.

He exploits your weaknesses gleefully, assaulting the spot over and over again while he continues his ministrations on your clit. It's no wonder your orgasm doesn't take long to slam into you. Watery cries of his name and jumbled curses echoing throughout the empty gym. You're sure you're hurting him from how fiercely you're gripping his hair. You couldn't remember the last time you'd cum this hard. Sagging against the wall when the most intense parts of it subside.

Chan presses one last kiss to your pussy before easing his fingers out of you. Standing up on unsteady legs, cupping your jaw and slamming his mouth against yours. The taste of yourself on his tongue further fueling the fog clouding your mind. Desperate hands dragging him closer to you, revelling in his closeness and the firmness of his body against your own.

"If I knew you tasted this good, I would've offered to eat you out a long time ago," he says when you shift to litter kisses on his jaw.

"If I knew you did it so well, I would've let you," you respond with an easy smile. However, any humour in your tone dissipates when you register his cock pressing against your thigh. Scorching and heavy even through the material of his shorts. Fuck.

Your mouth finds his once more. Teeth and tongue clashing with one another as he grinds himself against you, groaning into you.

"Chan, please," you whine.

"Hmm? Please, what?" You're not sure if he's genuinely too disoriented to understand what you're asking of him or if he wants you to beg. Either way, you've long since abandoned any semblance of pride.

"Please fuck me,"

His eyes shut briefly, and you watch the way his jaw clenches, "You're going to be the death of me."

If you weren't aching and noticeably empty, you might've giggled at his words. Watching him shove his shorts and underwear down his thick, muscular thighs through lidded eyes. A fresh wave of wetness gushes out of you when his cock springs free. Of course his cock would look mouthwatering too. Of course.

"You really do like to stare, huh?" he muses, stepping closer to you. Hoisting one of your legs over his elbow.

"Sh-Shut up," you stutter, fingernails digging into his biceps as he drags his cock along your pussy. His cock glistening with your arousal in no time.

"That's not nice," he faux pouts, nudging your entrance with his tip. Your knees almost buckle underneath you. A moan bubbling out of just from him toying with you.

"Chan, please. I want it. I want you, please-"

You're promptly cut off when he pushes inside of you. If you thought the stretch provided by his fingers was overwhelming, the girth of cock brings tears to your eyes. Your strained gasps and his restrained groans intertwining.

Is it possible to cum just from being so full? Lee Chan might just help you answer that question. You're not sure you've ever felt so full and stretched out in your entire life. A few stray tears running down your face already.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking just as wrecked and overwhelmed as you feel. He's practically vibrating from the effort not to move. His cock pulsing inside of you.

"Ye-Yeah. It doesn't hurt. You can move," you respond. It's now or never.

Chan starts off very slowly. Letting you grow accustomed to his girth with every drag of him along your walls. Muttering quiet praises into your neck about how well you're doing, how good you feel, and how you're taking him so well. His words prompting you to clench around him and gush around him.

"Chan, faster, please. You can move faster. It's okay, I can take it," you whine. You feel like you're going to lose your mind if he keeps thrusting so slowly. His consideration is sweet. Really, it is, but it's torturous too. From the way he seems to be restraining himself, you assume the feeling is mutual.

Something snaps in him then. His eyes more feral than they were moments ago as he picks up his pace considerably. The sounds of your wetness and skin slapping against skin mingling with your respective noises of pleasure.

"Taking my cock like such a good girl," he groans into your shoulder, sliding impossibly deeper into you when he angles himself a little differently than before.

Perhaps he's noticed the way his praise impacts you. His filthy mouth not stopping.

"Look, baby," he mutters lowly into your ear, "I want you to look at how well your pussy takes me,"

You can't find it in you to disobey. Chasing the high of being his good girl. So, you glance downwards. Your cheeks heating up as you watch him fuck into you and the way you're being split open by him. You never thought the sight of yourself being fucked would garner such a strong reaction from you but, you've been learning quite a bit about yourself today.

"It's hot, isn't it?" He asks, a moan falling from his lips when you tighten around him, "So hot watching me fuck this pretty pussy of yours."

You've never cum just from penetration but, Chan is proving himself to be head and shoulders above every other man you've slept with. You're completely and utterly caught off guard when you cum for a second time and, Chan seems to be too. Startled, wide eyes watching you shatter in front and around him for a second time. Ever the caring gentleman as he soothes and fucks you through it.

You're barely coherent when Chan's pitchy moans of your name register to your mind and you feel his warm, thick cum flood your awaiting pussy. His hips weakly twitching into yours with ever spurt of his cum inside of you.

Honestly, it's a wonder both of you are still standing. Barely, but you're standing. Leaning into each other and the trusty wall for support as you come back to yourselves.

"If working out with you always ends up like this, we should work out together more often," he says, kissing your neck and shoulder lazily.

You really just had to fall for one of the most eye roll inducing men you've ever met, huh.

#lee chan smut #dino smut #seventeen smut #seventeen dino smut #dino seventeen smut #chan smut #chan seventeen smut #seventeen chan smut #1k followers celebration day 6 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

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werewolfsmile · 8 months ago

Note

re: "All I’m saying is the fact that someone isn’t talking to me about Eliot Spencer every second of every day is very unfair and borderline illegal." & tags - if you want to, can you elaborate on your werewolf!eliot ideas?? i’d like to hear about it!! if not all good tho :)

Oh boy oh boy oh boy! Yes I would love to elaborate! (buckle up because i have Thoughts)

(wow this really got away from me so uhhh .... warning for 2k of ranting about Eliot as a werewolf?? list of headcanons under the cut)

From the moment I first met Eliot Spencer, I knew he was werewolf-coded. Aside from his insanely fantastic fighting abilities and the absurd amount of punishment he can take, there are many other factors that contribute to his werewolf status.

Eliot needs a pack Our boy is out here working on his own for years and look at all the good it did him! None! He carries severe trauma from his family life because he blames himself for how it all went down and doesn't think he'll be welcomed back. Plus something probably happened during his military days or early PMC days to put him off working with others. Could have been the pain of losing people all the time, could have been something more. Either way, Eliot working on his own is a defence mechanism - but a self-destructive one.

Wolves thrive in packs - like duh, they're pack animals. As my username suggests, I'm into werewolves and, by extension, wolves. I've done research for my own werewolf novels in the past, so I know that in an average wolf pack, each pack member will have physical contact with the other pack members on the regular. Like, several times an hour! (gosh if I can find the research paper this info came from I'll link it but honestly it's been years) That's a serious level of physical contact required to keep the emotional bonds of the pack healthy!

Flick back to Eliot. He loves to fight, he loves the violence and the pain, yes. He hates the killing and the blood on his hands. He actually tries to leave the assassin world behind after he meets Toby (which is before he meets Moreau, as per early dialogue in The French Connection Job). He bonds quickly with Toby. Show Eliot a little love and care and he's yours for life! He moves onto retrieval work, then somehow ends up working for Moreau.

Now, when we see Eliot and Moreau in The Big Bang Job, Moreau says, "You work alone." Which means that Eliot had that reputation when he came to Moreau. He probably only took contracts to start off with. But he accepted job after job from Moreau and was so good that he was highly respect and it's inferred he ended up as Moreau's top bodyguard/assassin. Why the hell would Eliot end up that close to a man who brings out all the worst in him? Because Eliot's a werewolf and no matter how toxic, Moreau fulfills the need for a pack bond that he's been missing all this time.

Fast forward to Eliot meeting the rest of the Leverage team. One job only - my ass. He saves Hardison's life after Hardison brought a gun to their little meeting - and we all know how Eliot feels about guns.

Wolves are designed to live and operate in packs. Eliot says it's one job only but is bonding with them all from the get-go. Werewolf trait confirmed.

Eliot needs physical touch Now, I know what you're thinking. Eliot canonically avoids physical contact with the team. He refuses hugs, especially from Hardison, growls at Parker poking his bruises (don't get me started on the growls), and shoves people (ahem Parker) out of his personal space. So why would he do all this if he needs physical touch??

Because he's one gigantic ball of angst and self-loathing and guilt.

Eliot doesn't think he deserves forgiveness or love or family, etc. That is a whole other rant, but he denies himself the physical contact he needs with others as a way of punishing himself.

However, as the series progresses, we see him become more comfortable with physical contact! He hugs Hardison several times, he doesn't move away from Parker, etc. Why? Because he's bonded with this team (ahem pack) and there's only so much he can suppress his instincts. The more time he spends with them, the more naturally the contact flows.

Eliot needs to protect others Whenever we get a scene of the team walking as a group, where is Eliot positioned 90% of the time?? That's right, at the back of the group. He lets the others walk in pairs and falls back to bring up the rear. He's keeping them all in his line of sight and constantly scanning for threats ahead, along with protecting the team from any rear attacks. It makes sense for him to do this given his military background, but it also makes sense for a werewolf to do this.

He's the only werewolf in the team. His instincts revolve around keeping the pack safe and protected, so he does that in the best way he knows how.

Not to mention how feral gets over kids!!

Wolf life is all about the pack and the family structure. Pups are integral to the pack's survival and future. Eliot doesn't have kids of his own. But that doesn't stop his instincts from blaring every time he interacts with a kid, be it on the con or off. He takes time out every time to help that kid in an attempt to calm the raging storm of instincts inside his body.

Eliot needs to feed others It's another werewolf instinct that rears its head when they're in the safety of their headquarters (ahem den). Protecting the team/pack from physical threats is just one aspect of taking care of them. Feeding them is the other major one.

None of these idiots can cook to save their lives - except Nate, but he's also drowning his liver 90% of the time, so Eliot has to compensate for that, too. The team can't operate at full capacity if they're not consuming good nutrition. So Eliot makes sure to feed them.

His humanity recognises that these are independent people - coworkers - and he can't control every meal of every day. But he can cook for them, once a week or once a job, which is just enough to satisfy his instincts that he's doing his part to care for them. Plus they love his cooking, and the praise he gets from it is an unexpected but pleasant bonus.

Eliot and team sports/kitchens This ties in with my first point about Eliot needing a pack, but all the times we see Eliot go super hard and get absorbed in the role he's playing are when he's on a team sport or he's in the kitchen. Both of these fulfill super important instincts for him - being in a team/pack and providing food for others.

Think about The Tap-Out Job. Eliot's playing a fighter but he's not pretending to be on a team. He doesn't get over-invested in the role. But what about when he's a baseball player? A hockey player? He falls into those roles hard because he's working with another team again, and this little werewolf is built for that environment. Same in The French Connection: the kitchen becomes his den, the students are his pack mates, and he goes hard at investing in them and protecting them. Never mind the personal aspect of Toby.

Same for episodes like The Fairy Godparents Job when we get a scene of Eliot teaching a bunch of girls self-defence. Team setting + protecting kids = happy werewolf instincts.

So, werewolf headcanons? I have a lot of different origin theories but the main one I like for Eliot is:

he became a werewolf either for a covert military op, or was bitten by Moreau (choose your own angst flavour)

if it was for the military, they were trying to engineer supersoldiers and he was deemed a failure; he has werewolf instincts all the time but only has enhanced strength, healing, etc on full moons

if it was bitten by Moreau, there's a psychic-style bond linking them, which is why he was so loyal to Moreau for so long, and also why he is so reluctant to go after Moreau

(wow this is too different theories already and i said this was my 'main one' whoops)

Eliot can only shift easily on the full moon; shifting outside of a full moon can only be caused by extreme stress and is ridiculously painful

he suffers an insanely high prey drive all the time and is so strict about his control because he doesn't actually wanna rip out the throat of Random Guard #3

he used to chain himself up for full moons so he didn't hurt anyone, but since the team found out about him, Hardison and Parker have taken it upon themselves to 'puppy-sit' him every full moon

this involves no chains but an obscene amount of dog chew toys. Eliot is never impressed. He also never chases or chews the toys. The video evidence Hardison has was obviously doctored.

Hardison and Parker found out the truth when a con went sideways and Eliot was trapped in a room with them during the full moon

he was terrified he was going to kill them - or worse, bite them - but his instincts recognised them as pack so instead he just tried to wrestle with them all night

Hardison had a major freak out when he discovered Eliot was a werewolf - it's one thing to be obsessed with sci-fi/fantasy, it's another thing entirely to see your best friend transform before your eyes

Parker was not even remotely phased, being all like, "pfft of course werewolves are real, I thought you knew that Hardison, you talk about your elves and orcs all the time!"

"Woman that is completely different and you know it!"

"What else do you think is fake? The tooth fairy?? Ha!"

Eliot is Done With Their Shenanigans

Parker only ever refers to Eliot as Sparky when he's in his wolf form

Sophie didn't actually know about werewolves before the reveal but she pretends that she did

Nate knew about werewolves before Eliot, he just chooses to pretend that they're Not A Thing

werewolves generally don't make good hitters, because the constant exposure to violence ramps up their hunting instincts aka they find it hard not to kill

of course, this doesn't matter if you're someone like Moreau who specifically wants killing machines and thus turns his top hitters into werewolves, to ensure loyalty and enhance his strength

the only other werewolf hitter not under Moreau's control that Eliot knows is Quinn, who most certainly did not pull his werewolf strength punches when they tousled in The First David Job

Quinn doesn't have a pack (werewolf or otherwise) and genuinely doesn't seem phased by this, which pisses off Eliot to no end

however, after they work together in The Last Dam Job, Quinn deems himself Eliot's Best Werewolf Bud and keeps popping up randomly to hang out on full moons, etc

Parker and Hardison are a bit weirded out (and a little jealous) of Quinn's attention initially, but soon get over that when they discover that two werewolves on a full moon absolutely play for hours like 6 month old puppies - especially with the tug rope

Eliot is Extremely Susceptible to belly rubs even in his human form, which is half the reason he pushes people out of his personal space a lot - his reputation would never survive anyone finding out

of course the entire team figures it out and take to ambushing him with belly rubs whenever he's being stubborn or annoying

belly rubs are also the only way he will relax enough when he's injured so they can treat his wounds

despite the incessant dog jokes, the ever-growing pile of dog toys, and the bowls labelled with "Sparky" and cartoon bone symbols ... Eliot absolutely adores the pack he's found himself in and wouldn't change them for the world

One of these days I will sit down and write a thousand fics for werewolf!Eliot! Till then, I'll just keep churning out the headcanons ;)

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papermint-airplane · 7 months ago

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WARNING: HUGE RANT AHEAD

As per the request from @nectar-cellar:

Oh boy prepare yourself for a foul-mouthed rant because I am MAD!!!! 😠😠😠😠 Not at you, NC. I love you. You can do no wrong in my eyes. 😘

No I am mad at this STUPID FUCKING SIM holy shit

OK FIRST OF ALL

He started life like THIS

What I can only describe as "Disney's Aladdin visits a dude ranch". Yes, I know I have used that exact outfit (minus the boots) for Roman before, shut up, you're not here to expose my hypocrisy, you're here to suffer with me because OH BOY DID I SUFFER.

Ok so he turned out like this. Not bad, you say? No. Bad. Very bad.

I SPENT TWO AND A HALF FUCKING HOURS ON THIS STUPID MOTHERFUCKER AND THERE'S STILL SOMETHING OFF ABOUT HIS FACE AND I CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT AND I PUT CONTOURING MAKEUP ON HIS FACE AND YOU CAN BARELY SEE IT BECAUSE FOR SOME REASON, THIS SKINTONE IS IMPOSSIBLE TO COLOR MATCH TONIGHT AND I DON'T KNOW WHY BECAUSE I'M USUALLY GREAT AT COLOR MATCHING FUCK THIS GUY

Yeah so I got him in Live Mode and there is just something about him that is pissing me right the fuck off and I don't know what it is. Is it the eyes? Are the eyes too big? Jaw too square? I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS AND IT'S PISSING ME OFF!!!!!!!!!! I really feel like the eyes are too big but I kept shrinking his eyes until he literally looked like this .👄. and it still didn't help.

I went in and out of CAS at least 7 times and I can't figure out what's off and I can't fix it and I HATE HIMMMMMMMMMM

"Who's made of pixels and sucks ass? This guy!"

"Don't you just love me?"

NO I WANT TO HIT YOU WITH A BUS

I know that making masc men is a challenge for me. This is not new information. It's been a problem for 20 years, it'll be a problem for 20 more. I know what I find attractive in a man, I just don't know what looks good on a Sim. Know what I mean? No? Stop being difficult, you know exactly what I mean.

I also tried using NC's new torso and oh boy that was an adventure because the torso is fire and his face is A FUCKING DISASTER. There is something about his head and his torso that are incongruous with each other and I don't. know. what. it. is. It's driving me crazy. No correction, it has DRIVEN me crazy, past tense. I am crazy now and this fucker is why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LOOK AT THIS PIECE OF SHIT WHY DOESN'T HIS HEAD FIT WHAT DID I DO WRONG

I even expanded my slider multiples so I could fine tune things thinking that would help but no I think it made everything worse ESPECIALLY MY MENTAL HEALTH

I hate him. I HAAAAAAAAATEEE HIIIIIIIIIM

So by now you're like "Laura there's nothing wrong with him, Laura you're taking this too seriously, Laura he's fine" and I know. I KNOW! I STILL HATE HIM

And you're god dang right I put that fucker on a pole. If I get community labeled because of this shit heap, I'm gonna lose my shitting mind.

Literally fuck you, I hate you so much. I didn't even give you a name. Do you know what your name is? "Stupid asshole who won't behave" that's what your name is.

I even threw Monica the Devil Girl in there hoping that would help. It didn't.

Know what the worst part is?

I enjoyed this. I mean yeah sure I hated the whole process and I hate the result and I hate this Sim and in a minute, I'm going to have an alien Sim land a meteor on top of his head, but there's something really cathartic about just unloading all of your vitriol on a Sim, you know? And it was definitely a challenge and definitely out of my comfort zone. I'll have to keep trying until I make a male Sim (other than Roman and Aiden) that I'm happy with.

This was a learning experience for sure.

Piece of shit.

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 gameplay #mine #adventures in cas #sims 3 cas #*breathes into a paper bag*#i'm fine everything's fine #gif warning

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yall-batman-fanfic · 1 month ago

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"I Need a Raise." | Damian Wayne/Robin & Magician!Reader

Synopsis: Damian requests for a raise in his allowance and gets a reality check with how things are done. But with his secrecy on his project, Vivian decides to dig deeper and finds something that surprises her about the boy.

Damian Wayne grew up comfortably with servants doing his bidding. Sure, his grandfather and his mother would have him undergo brutal training, but after that, he would have someone to ask for anything he wanted. When he learned who his father was, Damian expected the same treatment—servants, and he gets to do what he pleases. But that wasn't the case.

Upon coming to his father's home, he found out that Bruce Wayne only had one butler and a wife who was not like his mother at all. Vivian Pryor was a normal-looking woman. A bit plain in his opinion, but for the red hair that Damian wouldn't admit was alluring, she was intelligent in her own field. Nothing like his mother at all who can do almost everything and seduce anyone she wants.

His relationship with Vivian started rocky, after a while, Damian admitted that he was being an insensitive brat then and regrets destroying the thing that meant so much to her. Ever since his apology he would wake up in the morning and water the gardens and clean Helena's stone. There was never a day when the garden was unkempt and the flowers wilted. Sometimes Vivian would be the first there and he would join her, and the two would work in comfortable silence.

That was until one morning while gardening with Vivian, Damian said, "I've asked Father about my school allowance."

"And?" Vivian asked her to focus on the garden still.

"He simply told me to ask you about it."

"And what is this ask, Damian?"

"I need a raise."

"Why, did they raise the prices in the school cafeteria? Also, isn't Alfred making your lunch for school?"

"It's not enough."

"And what are you going to spend it on? And before you say 'none of your business', I'd think hard about who is the one asking for a raise right now," Vivian finished her work and got up to take the tools back to the shed.

Damian followed her actions and continued, "It's a personal project."

"What kind?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you spending your cash on some fancy gadget for Robiin. Okay? The allowances you get daily are for Damian to use for school, Cheese Vikings, movies, or -- better yet -- savings. If you have a world-dominating project in your little plans, that needs to go with the Batman's bills."

Having heard the whole exchange while having coffee, Tim and Jason snickered, and in rare circumstances shared a fist bump. One of the few things that brings them together, is Vivian telling off the gremlin.

"Father uses his personal assets for the Batman's projects," Damian pointed.

"Yes, because your father is working and is running a big ass company to fund those projects while also keeping this big ass house over our heads."

"And what about those charities?"

"Better the charities than have the government tax you millions for being rich."

"He buys junk!"

"It's tax deduction, look it up! Also, not all of it is junk."

"You ranted to us about the clock he bought the last time that was worth two million dollars."

"Well, that was junk, I'll admit that. But, as I said, it's more of the tax thing and the front on being a billionaire philanthropist."

Damian let out a frustrated grunt. "I don't see how this is even your concern! It's father funding my schooling and my allowances anyway! You're just the hand giving it!"

"Whoah, there, what's going on?" Dick walked up with a bag of pastries.

"When did you get here, kiddo?" Vivian greeted him.

"Thought I'd drop by when I saw these in Bludhaven. You said they were your favorite, right?"

"For that shop?"

"Yeah -- but not the point, what's going on?" Dick asked.

From the patio, Jason and Tim approached them and the former explained, "The gremlin's asking Ma for a raise."

"And from the looks of it, he's not winning the board right now," Tim snickered.

"Damian, you do know that it's Vivian who's paying for your schooling and giving you an allowance, right?" Dick said.

"What? How?" Damian questioned.

"First of all, ouch," Vivian crossed her arms over her chest. "Second, it's called having a job. And before you say something you'd regret about a professor's salary isn't enough to pay for Gotham Academy's tuition, let alone two of you are going," she gestured to Tim. "I'm not just a professor, I also work in the museum."

"Dude, she's getting paid royalties for her books which are now being sold globally and in different languages," Jason pointed out. "Ma, may not be as rich as Bruce, but she's got cash. Which reminds me..."

"We'll talk later. This first," Vivian told Jason. "But me paying for your education is not the point here. My point is, despite being the sons of a billionaire and getting to be Robin, Alfred and I want to give you a sense of normalcy. And Damian, the money you're getting daily for your allowance is above the normal rate if you ask me. If you want more money, then you're going to do it the same way we're getting money and how these three got a bit of extra. And that money, you can do whatever you want with."

"And what's the task?' Damian asked.

"Chores."

"I already do chores."

"Cleaning your bed doesn't count, kid. This is a big house and Alfred isn't getting younger. Wanna get a little extra? Get to work. I know that you got Robin's duties, but I'm sure you can find a way to do all of this. You're resourceful."

"You're not doing chores," Damian pointed out.

"Hey, gremlin, how about you walk around the place? You'd see brooms sweeping the floors all on their own," Jason pointed out.

Tim chuckled. "Yeah, Viv, next time a little heads up. I almost got a heart attack when I saw my things moving around my room."

"I didn't want to wake you. That night you didn't sleep until I had to drag your ass to bed," Vivian chuckled.

Dick snickered. "I remember the first time I saw the laundry being hung on the line on its own. I ran to Alfred, shitting myself, because I thought I saw a ghost."

"That, I did on purpose."

"Seriously?!"

"So, Damian, what do you say? Ready to be one of the normal people here and be a slave to a good paycheck?" Vivian smiled teasingly at the boy.

"Or maybe you just don't have what it takes," Tim teased when Damian kept silent.

"Fine. I'll do more chores," Damian said and took the sheers to start gardening.

As they watched him cutting the hedges, Vivian sighed and took Jason's coffee, knowing it was black. "This takes me back."

"When? When you made each of us clean the freaking attic?" Jason said.

"And the guest rooms. Emphasis on the rooms, Viv," Tim added.

"Please, that wasn't even that bad. She made me do laundry once, and it still haunts me whenever I see a pair of black lingerie." Dick said, as he remembered the sight of the small and laced lingerie. He couldn't look at a Victoria Secret store for a while after that.

"Bruce bought it. His choice of color and style," Vivian shrugged.

"Not helping the lack of sleep headache, Viv," Tim groaned.

"I think he's plotting a hundred ways to skewer us with that," Vivian pointed out as Damian kept muttering.

"Totally," Dick snickered.

"I have a hundred ways to blow his brains out," Jason took his coffee back.

"What's with the talk of blowing brains?" Bruce appeared, all fresh from just waking up, and ready for work. "Is that Damian gardening?"

"Yup," Dick answered.

"Why?"

"He asked for a raise," Tim supplied.

"Oh, you're doing it the old-fashioned way?' Bruce leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Sometimes it still works."

"So, how much is he getting from this?"

"Oh right, hold on," Vivian then called out to Damian, saying, "Our average is five bucks, if you do more you might get a tenner!"

It only infuriated him.

"Hey, you're lucky! I only got two bucks!" Dick told him.

"So did I," Jason turned to her accusingly.

"Really? I got five too," said Tim.

"Lucky."

"Inflation, boys. Don't forget that."

Bruce chuckled and wrapped his arms around his wife and savored the touch and her scent before going to work. "How did he ask you anyway?"

"I need a raise," Vivian quoted Damian.

Bruce hummed. "And I guess he didn't take this too well."

"The kid got bitch slapped when Dick told him that It's Vivian paying for tuition and giving him allowances," Jason shrugged.

Bruce chuckled at that. It was an arrangement they both made when Vivian decided to move into Wayne Manor. In their second year in the relationship, they talked about moving in together to make the commute easier and to stop going back and forth between homes, also Vivian has most of her clothes there anyway. It took a lot of discussion, with Vivian wanting to pitch with the bills or at least pay for her share, but Bruce wouldn't have it. It didn't turn into a heated argument, luckily it didn't, but it did involve them writing down on a piece of paper the shares they'll give, and Alfred as a witness, and signing. Alfred even joked about calling a lawyer to make it state official.

The agreement was, that Bruce would handle all the bills of the manor, which were utilities, groceries, and maintenance, and Alfred's pay. While Vivian would pay for Dick's education (at that time it was just Dick with them), from his tuition, uniforms, allowances, projects, and even the gas when he goes to school. She'll handle it. She even set up a college fund for Dick too!

Aside from that, all personal expenses will be paid by each of them respectively. So, each of their credit card bills is their own. This often leads to Bruce and Vivian racing for each of their cards to pay for their dinner dates. Once, they both startled the waiter with them slamming their cards at the same time.

"And what does he need a raise for anyway?" Vivian asked Bruce.

"He didn't say."

Vivian hummed in thought as she watched Damian work harder than he usually does when at home. "What's the ask, Jason?"

"I was wondering if I can bunk at your condo for a while," Jason said.

"What happened to your place?" Tim asked.

"And what about your room here?" Bruce added.

"Sometimes a guy just wants solitude. And my apartment is a little crowded now. B's right there. And Artemis."

"You're lucky, it doesn't have a tenant now. You know where the keys are."

"Huh," Tim had a realization and then called out to Damian, "Real estate! Viv's got passive income in real estate!"

~*~

Damian worked for the next few weeks. On weekends, he would wake up early and start with the chores, gardening, sweeping, cleaning the rooms, when he was going to do the laundry, Vivian stopped him. She didn't want any of the boys any of her lingerie after what Dick told her.

Eventually, he got nearly a hundred bucks, still Vivian didn't know what he was going to buy with that money.

So, the day he broke his routine of chores by telling his father that he needed to step out, Vivian followed him. She used the GPS that Bruce placed on their phones, and saw herself parking in front of a dog pound.

Entering the place, she asked the reception of a boy came in and the guy just pointed to the door where the dogs were.

There, she saw Damian holding out his hands for the injured puppy that one of the workers was holding.

"You wanted to buy a dog?" Vivian asked Damian when she saw him in the pound. Damian jumped at the sound of her voice. She asked the helper to give them a minute alone. The worker scoffed and walked out of the room, leaving the two in there with the other dogs.

"I saw them taking him and I couldn't just take him or else Robin would be a thief," Damian told her. "They weren't treating him right."

Vivian sighed and approached him. "So, this is your project, huh... you should have told me, you know."

"Why, would you pay for him?"

"Yes," she answered immediately, shocking Damian. "Of course. If you want a pet, Damian, all you need is to tell us. We can talk about it as a family. Because a pet is a family discussion, especially who will clean up after the guy and train him."

"I will! I promise!" Damian said. "And you don't have to pay me too!"

Vivian sighed and brought the boy and the dog to an embrace. "You're a sweet kid, you know that? Come on, I'll get you that dog."

"But I worked so hard for his..."

"I know, and I am proud of you. So, for this time, I'll get you this little guy."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Damian looked at the dog and smiled sincerely. "Mother never let me have pets. She always said attachments to living things made you weak."

"Well," Vivian messed with his hair. "Wanna know a little secret?" Damian looked at her, intrigued. "This," she showed the gold flames on her palm. "Isn't all of my power. This is just a small part of it. I sealed my real powers to keep everyone safe."

"Why?"

"Because there's a demon who wants to use my body to get through from Hell to this world, and if he does then everyone I love will be killed," Vivian shrugged. "So, attachment and bonds... I don't think they make you weak. It's what drives you to be strong. Stronger. And just so you didn't quite catch that, you are also one of those people that I care for and love, okay?"

Damian blushed deeply and focused his gaze on the puppy.

Seeing his embarrassment, Vivian ushered Damian to the front desk and did the paperwork for the adoption. She stuck with him the entire time and even held his hand when they had to give the puppy its shots. On the drive home, Vivian watched as Damian lovingly embraced the dog.

"So, what are you going to name him?" She asked.

"Titus."

"After Emperor Titus? He was a good ruler, you know. His popularity was won through his generosity."

"That's why," Damian laughed when the puppy licked his cheek. "Vivian."

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thank you."

"No problem, sweetheart," Vivian glanced at the rearview mirror and smiled at him.

~ Extra Ending ~

"Vivian, I'll be taking Titus out for a walk," Damian said.

"Yeah, go ahead," Vivian said, quite confused with the sudden announcement. "Anything you need before you head out? Pocket money or something?"

"No, I was wondering if you would like to accompany us. I found walking at this time to be relaxing, and so does Titus."

Everyone in the room froze and just watched Damian with anticipation. This was new. Even Bruce paused mid-sip of his coffee.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Vivian caressed his cheek and smiled at him and Titus. "Let me just get my coat and shoes then we can head out. Alfred, can I get my coffee in a thermos? And how about some bagels to go?"

"That would be nice, thank you," Damian said. "We'll wait right here."

As Vivian left, Damian settled himself in her seat and waited patiently. "What?" He asked everyone looking at him weirdly.

"Nothing," Bruce said. "I'm glad that you both are getting along."

"Are we not going to point out that she called him 'sweetheart' and the devil-spawn didn't stab her?" Tim pointed out. "Dick needs to know about this," he got out his phone and started typing in the group chat.

Meanwhile, Jason was glaring at the boy. "How come she calls you sweetheart?"

Damian had a smug look and shrugged. "I guess we bonded last night."

"I'm ready!" Vivian came down wearing her favorite coat. After thanking Alfred for the coffee and packed bagels, Vivian kissed Bruce goodbye incase he left before they came back, and then called for Damian, "Come on, sweety, let's get that vitamin D."

Damian got down from the seat and followed her with Titus, but before he could leave, he made sure to glance Jason's way and sent a smug look. Knowing fully well how Jason took pride in being the closest one to Vivian.

Jason didn't take that too well and was about to curse at him but Alfred reprimanded him.

Bruce sighed and muttered to Tim, "At least his relationship with everyone is improving."

#batman #batman x reader #bruce wayne #dc comics #dc fanfic #fanfic #dc batman #dc universe #bat family #batfam #damian wayne #damian robin

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radioactiveparker · 1 year ago

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Happy Birthday, Sweetheart - Sub!Eddie Munson X Dom!Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - Eddie surprises you with a birthday present after a bad day

Warnings - Sub!Eddie / Dom!Reader / Strong Language / Bondage / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Sitting / Edging / Orgasm Denial / Overstimulation / Multiple Orgasms / Riding / Mommy Kink / Spitting / Dirty Talk / Gagging / Choking / Degradation / Creampie / Breeding Kink

Word Count - 4.8K

A/N - So, it's my birthday!!! 22 whole years of age. I'll be going away for a couple of days, so there'll probably be little activity on here, so I thought I'd leave you all with this parting gift haha. Enjoy x

_____

Today was shit.

There was no simpler way to put it.

It had started wonderfully. You couldn't deny that. Blissfully awoken in the strong arms of your lover, Eddie, with soft morning kisses and breakfast in bed (even if the pancakes were a little on the burnt side). But when the phone rang and you had no other choice but to go into work, your birthday plans had been successfully ruined. You wouldn't have minded if the day had gone smoothly, but it was filled with spilt coffee, raging customers, and an older gentleman who thought he had the privilege of being able smack your ass when you walked by.

Your heart leapt with delight when the final customer left the diner. All that was left to do was to wipe the tables, brush the floors, take out the trash, and lock up. It would have been a lot easier if your colleague hadn't let her drunkard of a boyfriend in the diner after hours. He had slurred a "promise" that he wouldn't get in the way, but he found it all too amusing to try and trip you up as you swept the floors and when it went a little too quiet, you just knew that they were getting touchy-feely in the pantry cupboard. You would have left if you could have, but she had been your lift to work, and therefore, she was your lift home. Thanks to their not-so-clandestine activities, you had gotten home an hour later than you would have liked.

The sun had already begun to set when you'd left the diner and dusk had settled by the time you got home. A birthday sufficiently wasted.

After a day like today, all you wanted was Eddie - just to feel his embrace, smell his musky cigarette scent, for him to listen to you rant about your awful day to get it out of your system. Maybe you could ask him for a massage and a hot bath to ease the stress from your aching muscles. Well, as close to a massage as you could get from Eddie. Because the two of you know how those always end. Yeah, that sounded really good right now.

You gave your colleague a quick thank you, trying not to roll your eyes when her boyfriend leapt on her almost instantly before you could say goodbye. The slam of the car door echoed in the quiet trailer park, and the tires screeched when she drove off immediately. You dragged your feet to the front door of yours and Eddie's trailer. Upon approaching, you noticed that almost all of the lights in the trailer were off, which was odd because you knew that Eddie was going to be home tonight. You fumbled your keys in the door and dumped your bag, shoes, and coat by the entrance. As you took a step, you felt something soft beneath your foot: a rose petal.

You observed then a haphazard trail of rose petals leading from the front door and down the hall. Your heart melted and puddled in your waterline as you followed it. The odd tealight candle meandered alongside the dappled pathway, its dim, honeyed light guiding you into your bedroom. The door had been left open, just a crack, and you could tell that there was more candle light glowing from inside. You opened it slowly and wearily. If you knew Eddie, which you did, you knew he had a particular penchant for jumping out to scare you when you least expected it. That was not the case this time to your relief.

Instead, the appreciative tear in your eyes was sniffed away with a laugh of your own. There on the centre of your bed, Eddie lay.

Stark naked.

Hands behind his head.

With a gift box over his crotch.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively before he reached over to his bedside table and dropped the needle on your record player. The powerful blow of a saxophone eased from the speakers as Careless Whisper played. It's a song that Eddie wasn't keen on, mind you, but he knew you had a certain fondness for during certain situations. Situations like this.

"Happy Birthday, Baby."

You stalked over to him, already feeling your underwear dampen. "You did all this for me, handsome?"

"Uh huh, now come and open your present." He spoke all too eagerly.

You climbed onto the bed, rose petals pooling in the divots as you did. You sat yourself just above his knees, straddling his thighs and giving him a very obvious view of your lace panties from your up ridden pencil skirt and the wet patch of your arousal that resided there.

Your eyes moved to the box between your thighs - pretty pink paper with tiny red hearts wrapped neatly around the box. You wouldn't be surprised if he had spent all day trying to wrap it as neatly as he could. He had topped it off with a blushing ribbon tied in a bow. You reached for it, pausing to look him in the eyes. You both had the same look - a look that said you knew exactly where this was going. You took your time pulling the ribbon out of its loops, much to Eddies dismay, and then lifted the lid off the box to reveal what you had been yearning for.

"Oh, Eddie, you shouldn't have."

Eddie's throbbing cock was staring up at you. His tip was flushed and leaking, twitching with anticipation through the hole cut out of the bottom of the box. He had shaved for the special occasion even though you had told him numerous times that you didn't mind him having pubic hair.

"Thought I'd get you something you'd get a lot of use out of."

"I love it." You leaned over to give him a thank you kiss, giggling into his lips.

"You wanna know the best part?" He mumbled against your lips. "It's all yours tonight, whatever you say goes."

"I get to do anything I want to you?"

He nodded confidently.

You bit your lip in thought. You could go slow and romantic, let him make love to you to ebb the tension out of your body, said the angel. Or you could absolutely ruin him, argued the devil. It was something you hadn't got the chance to do yet. Eddie was always very dominant when it came to bedroom activities, not that you minded, but sometimes you wanted to make him crumble - give him a taste of his own medicine. That, and it would be a good way to let out all of your frustrations of the day.

The devil won.

"Oh, your gonna wish you hadn't said that." You teased, trying to keep your assertive composure and not laugh when Eddie's face fell . "Still got them cuffs pretty boy?"

You saw Eddie's Adams apple bob with a not-so subtle gulp, obviously not expecting those taunting words to ooze from those pretty lips of yours. He nodded anyway and informed you that they were still in the shoebox under the bed, along with the other toys, gags and restraints the two of you had collected over the years. You made a show collecting them, flashing him as you climbed off him, swaying your hips as you sauntered around the bed, and keeping your ass high in the air as you bent over to reach under the bed. You stifled a giggle when you heard him groan at the sight.

You clambered back on top of him, sitting higher up on his thighs and removing the box from around his cock. His hands immediately reached for your ass, grabbing a handful of your cheeks while he had the chance. You let them rest there, smiling at him while you unlocked the cuffs. You took his wrists one at a time, probably handling them a little harsher than you should've, but Eddie didn't seem to mind. He obediently allowed you to chain him to the bedpost, to your surprise. Eddie certainly wasn't one for being submissive, and often hated when you bested him at anything. Like when you would play fight and you wound up pinning him beneath you, Eddie would never let you bask in your victory for very long before you were back underneath him - "where you belong" he would say. You were beginning to understand his notion, Eddie looked exceptionally delectable beneath you; brown waves cascading over the plush pillows, matching irises twinkling in the candlelight, his pouty lips looking oh-so kissable.

You decided to appease your craving and firmly plant your lips to his when his wrists were finally in place. You could hear them rattle as he pulled on them, already finding it hard not to touch you. He forced his tongue against yours, toying with it and moaning into you. You suckled on his tongue, deciding then that you wanted to feel it inside of you.

He whined reluctantly as you removed yourself from him. You stood before him at the end of your bed and began unbuttoning your coffee stained shirt. You did it slowly, putting on a show for him as you revealed your dolled up breasts with every button. It was Eddies favourite, deep red lace to match your panties. His cock dripped onto his abdomen at the sight, his mouth practically watering. You pulled the shirt from off your shoulders and leisurely unzipped your skirt to let it pool at your feet. Easing your finger beneath the waistband of your panties, you flicked them teasingly before sliding them down your legs. Eddie groaned once again when he caught sight of your juices glistening in the candlelight. You playfully chucked them at him, landing directly on his chest, just out of reach for him to smell your juices, to taste them lingering on the lace. His head threw back in annoyance and he didn't see you approaching him until your thighs were either side of his head.

Your begging pussy hovered above his pink lips. "You gonna be good for me?"

He nodded eagerly, pulling at the restraints like he had forgotten he was tied up. You smirked down at him, he was so used the gripping your thighs and pulling you down to his tongue. You gradually lowered yourself onto him, feeling his wet muscle instantly delve into your folds as soon as it could reach. You moaned at the sudden sensation and rested your full weight on him - he would only ask you to otherwise. He massaged your clit bounteously and it wasn't long before you were gasping for air between every moan. His strategic tongue lapped every drop that leaked from your aching hole until you were practically grinding on his face, using his nose to rub along your clit as he fucked his tongue in and out of your entrance.

"Fuck, that's so good baby." You cried. "You wanna make me cum?"

He hummed a yes as he kissed through your folds, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. He worked double time, wanting you to cum to fulfil his desperate need to taste your release on his tongue. He took to harshly sucking and slurping on your clit until it was raw and swollen. Your hand gripped his hair tight enough to keep him in place and started a fast pace jerking your hips into his mouth. With a final sob, you release yourself onto his tongue. Not a single drop was wasted. He continued to lap you up until you were shuddering and jolting above him.

With shaking legs, you pulled yourself from him, watching him lick the sheen of your slick from his lips. You sat back on his hip, feeling his erection press against your inner thigh before leaning down to give him a kiss.

"Awe, you were such a good boy making me cum." You praised against his lips. "I think you deserve a little something in return."

Moving yourself so you lay between his legs, you trailed a soft hand along his pulsing length. A small yelp tumbled from his lips at the sudden sensation. He was already trying to thrust into your hand before you had even got a proper hold of him yet. His desperation pleased you greatly. His cock was verging on purple when you finally took him in your grasp. The sensitive skin was hot under your touch and he couldn't help but jerk away.

"Don't you want me to touch you, Eddie?"

"NO, I do. Please. It's just-" He hissed when you dragged your hand along him, "It's just so fucking sensitive."

"Bet you've been waiting for me all day, huh? You need me so badly, don't you my poor baby?" You cooed, continuing to stroke his cock.

"Yes, baby. I've been so fucking hard for you all day. I need you to make me cum, please."

"Such a good boy using your manners." You gave him a little squeeze, watching more of his arousal leak from the tip.

You used it to glide your hand up and down his length at a slow pace. Eddie was already whimpering beneath you with every tug, biting his lip and bucking his hips. You alternated your pace between rapid and slow strokes, only slowing when his moans grew louder. He groaned in annoyance every time you did, making his high ebb away before riling it up again. Every now and then you payed particular attention to his tip, running your fingers along his head and kneading his balls, applying pressure to both to extract more of his leaking cum. He was sweating and crying beneath you, twitching when it was too much and thrusting when it wasn't enough. You had to swallow the saliva that was pooling in your mouth.

You sped up your hand movements, only this time when he began moaning loudly, you didn't stop. You wanted him as close to the edge as possible. His moans were louder and longer and his voice was cracking between them.

"Fuck Mommy, I'm gonna cum."

You stopped. Pussy throbbing.

"Mommy?" His cheeks somehow flushed even redder, fearing he had crossed a line by the tone in your voice. "You want Mommy to make you cum?"

He released a breath in relief when you played along. His cock twitched in your hand and he nodded hopefully.

"Don't worry, you'll get to cum. But Mommy isn't finished playing with you yet."

And with that, your hands started again. A sob escaped Eddie's mouth when you let a glob of saliva drip from your lips and onto his tip, the extra lubrication letting your hand glide effortlessly along his extensive length. If you thought he was loud before, you were not prepared for the sounds he made when your lips wrapped around his tip. His already hot cock rejoiced in the warmth of your mouth and he accidentally thrust upwards into your throat. You swallowed him whole, having being trained to take him completely. You bobbed your head up and down, getting through eight successful drags before Eddie's thighs tensed beneath your palms. You paused, keeping him down your throat but not giving him enough to make him cum. You stayed there until his high subsided before moving again.

"Please can I cum, Mommy? I've been so good."

You pulled off him with a harsh pop. "Didn't I say you would get to cum? You've got to be patient baby, or I might just leave you tied up like this for the rest of the night."

"NO! I'm sorry. I'll be patient."

It was so unusual to hear Eddie beg like that, but you were lying if you said you weren't enjoying it. You were finally getting payback for the countless number of times Eddie had teased you, edged you, and made you beg for him.

You wanted him weeping.

You started by ceasing contact all together and climbing higher up on his body so that your aching pussy hovered over his cock. But not touching. You kissed up his body, licking and nipping and leaving deep purple hickeys along your path, tasting the salt on his skin. You payed particular attention to his nipples before trailing up to the sensitive spot below his ear. He was wreathing beneath you, pulling on his chains at your unrushed pace and whimpering in your ear.

"You okay, Eddie?" You took a pause to see if he was aright when you heard him panting unusually hard.

He simply nodded.

"C'mon Baby, use your words. You should know this better than anyone." You teased Eddie the way he normally would you.

"Yes." He breathed, taking deeper breaths now that you had given him the chance to simmer down.

But his cock was still rock hard and throbbing, begging to be sucked deep inside of your pussy. You finally removed your bra, chucking it to the side and grabbing your breasts, playing with your nipples in front of him. Your arousal was leaking onto his cock, letting your folds glide over him with ease when you sat your weight on him. A harsh curse fell from his lips at the sensation, and he repeated it again when you started to grind your bare pussy on his solid shaft.

You had finally had enough teasing yourself and soothed his tender cock with your soft walls. Your hole stretched to accommodate his length, giving you immense pleasure with every inch you sank down on. You eventually got yourself completely seated on him, giving yourself time to adjust and watch the flush spread across Eddie's chest. Your juices dribbled into the smooth skin of his pubic bone and dripped down his balls.

To Eddie's delight, you finally started moving, rolling your hips along his and raising yourself up and down his length. The pair of you were moaning messes, sweat gleaming off the two of you and the sounds of slapping skin echoing in the room. Your hands rested on his chest to motivate some rhythm, toes curling as his cock speared into you. Your pace was building, as fast as you could go for as long as you could.

"Fuck, you're riding me so good baby."

"Keep bouncing on my cock."

"Fuck, just like that."

It was second nature to Eddie to talk like that. It was his dominant side peaking out. But you weren't having any of that. You wrapped your hand around the base of his throat, applying enough pressure to have his eyes roll back and then taking your discarded panties and shoving them in his mouth as a gag.

That certainly shut him up.

You couldn't fight the smirk when he went back to being a whimpering mess beneath you, tasting the arousal you had left on the material that he had so desperately wanted to taste when you had first thrown them at him.

Your nails were unintentionally sinking crescent moons onto his neck as you bounced, thighs and shins burning at the exertion. You were getting tired. Your hips weren't moving fast enough for you to reach your high, despite being pleasured greatly.

"C'mon Eddie, I hope you didn't think I was going to be doing all the work tonight. It is my birthday, after all. If you wanna cum, then your gonna have to start pulling your weight."

His arms moved as if they were going to go for your hips, but instead he let out a frustrated sigh when they didn't move more than two inches. He found it harder to thrust into you without the leverage of your hips, but he still complied like a good boy. You were moaning almost as loud as he was when his hips began buckling up into you, reaching the deepest parts of you that had your eyes rolling back into your skull. He was pounding faster than you ever could riding him, making the warmth pool into your stomach until it was about to boil over.

But he stopped.

"Did I day that you could stop?"

Eddie let out a pathetic muffled excuse from behind your panties that you didn't understand. You ripped the lace from his mouth, staring deep into his watering eyes.

"No, but I was gonna cum. Please let me cum."

"You can cum when I say. And you can stop when I say. Now keep fucking me before I change my mind about letting you cum at all."

He continues thrusting upwards, but his pace wasn't as quick and his rhythm was faltering. If felt amazing of course, but it didn't have the same warmth fermenting deep within you as he had before.

"Faster."

"But I'm gonna cum." He whined, thrashing his arms in his cuffs. He wanted to push you off, yet at the same time he wanted to stay buried inside of you forever and ever. He was in a catch 22.

"That's so disappointing Eddie. You don't want to disappoint me, do you? No? You want to make me feel good, huh, baby?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll fuck me faster, won't you?"

"Yes, mommy." He choked.

His hips pounded into you so relentlessly it shocked you. You had never had Eddie fuck you so fiercely in you life. Perhaps he was willing his torture to end. Get you to cum so he could cum. The veins along his shaft rubbed along your walls and the tip of his cock jabbed at your cervix. It punched the air out of your lungs and drew you closer and closer to the edge. But as his hips thrusted and pounded, his orgasm was swift approaching. Far too swift to keep it up for much longer.

"Fuck can I cum please?"

The tears in his eyes made you somewhat merciful. He had been on the edge for long enough. You wrap your hand around his throat, feeling his groans vibrate through it.

"You wanna breed me? Shoot your load deep inside me?" You rasped in his ear.

"Yes. Please." his hoarse voice scratched his throat.

"Then cum for me."

The second his words left your lips, his hips were stilling and he dumped his load inside of you. You gasped the the sensation, the heat of his cum spreading inside you and filling you up until your completely full.

"Awww such a good boy for me." You cooed, leaning down to peck his lips.

"Thank you." He took a few more gasps to catch his breath. "Can you uncuff me now?"

"Uncuff you? Oh baby, you didn't think I was finished with you, did you?" You laughed wickedly. "You didn't even get me to cum. How pathetic."

His face dropped. The shameful look in his eyes almost made you feel bad.

Almost.

"I'm sorry, let me make it up to you. Ride my face again, I wanna taste you again."

"Oh, but it isn't about what you want, is it? No, I do want to ride something, but it's not gonna be your face."

He looks at you confused until you roll your hips again, and he winces at the over stimulation. If you thought Eddie was loud before, you were not ready for the sounds that left his mouth when you began fucking him again. He was practically screaming for you, whether it was for you to stop or keep going, you didn't know. But it didn't matter because you weren't stopping. You rise yourself up again before dropping harshly, hearing the squelch of his release when it tried to leak from your stuffed hole. His cock barely had anytime to go soft before it was perking up again, ignorant to Eddie's reluctancy. You continued the fast pace you had before, but your legs were shaking from pleasure and pain, and you couldn't keep the pace long enough. You were getting frustrated with yourself that you couldn't bring yourself to the edge again. Although you were opposed to the idea, you needed Eddie to fuck you. As much as you wanted to keep up this dominant side of you, you weren't getting yourself anywhere.

It's like you finally get out of your own head, and Eddie's still as loud as ever. You pause your movements and hop off him, resting your aching legs. His cock is completely solid and burning. The cool air makes him hiss as it twitched and shined with your mixed juices.

"Are you done now?"

"Me? No. You didn't think I was going to leave you like that." Still keeping your façade so Eddie knows your still in charge.

You stroke his cock and he hisses and twitches away from your touch. "That looks painful. I bet another orgasm will do you some good."

"What? No, please. I can't."

"I'm sorry baby, but it's tough shit."

He's confused when you uncuff him, rubbing his sore wrists. You climb away from him towards the bottom of the bed, bending down in front of him. Face down ass up.

"I want you to fuck me, Eddie. Make me cum on your cock."

He rubs the back of his sweaty neck. "I don't think I can, sweetheart."

"Fine then," you sit yourself back up, " I'll just cuff you again and do it myself."

"No! I'll do it."

So eager to please, you smirk to yourself, getting back into position. He settles himself behind you, resting his hand on your ass and squeezing them like he had before. You squealed when he unexpectedly took a bite of your ass cheek. He chuckled against the skin and gave it a kiss before lining himself up at your entrance. He took a breath to prepare himself, watching his previous release leak from between your folds before plunging himself deep inside you. The two of you moaned in unison. The angle had him somehow pushing deeper into you than before and directing his tip straight to your sweet spot. Eddie was wincing and whimpering behind you, the overstimulation was becoming too much to bare and his thrusts were wavering.

"You call this fucking? C'mon Eddie you can do better than that."

He knows your only playing the part, but he couldn't help but take that comment a little bit to heart, and forces himself to put your pleasure over his pain. As if possessed he pushed your head into the mattress and bends over you to shove his cock as deep as it will go. His hips are moving faster and harsher, fucking you just how you like - finally giving you what you wanted. His hands were gripping your hips hared enough to leave bruises, contrasting against the soft, wet kisses he pressed onto your shoulder. His moans were in your ear and his guttural groans were going straight to your core. You could feel his body shaking above you, trying hard to keep himself up on fatigued legs. But he continued to push himself inside of you, wrapping an arm around your waist to stroke your clit and using the other to grip one of your tits, using it as leverage to pound into you. He rubbed harsh circles on your sensitive nub and pinched and rolled your nipples, wanting so desperately for you to cum so he could to.

You walls began spasming around him. "Fuck Eddie, I'm gonna cum."

The squeeze around his cock sends him over the edge. The two of your are left moaning and panting as your orgasms wash over you and send you into pure bliss. You take his second load like a champ, his hips still stuttering to keep it deep inside you. You've never had him cum inside you twice before, but now that you've done it, you don't think you could go back.

He pulls out of you swiftly, to your disappointment, and collapses back onto the pillow. He watches from the opposite end of the bed as his cum seeps from your folds and drips onto the bed below as you both catch your breath. If he wasn't so exhausted, the sight alone would have had him hard again.

You manage to catch your breath first, forcing yourself up and walking on trembling legs to the bathroom. You take time to clean yourself up, grabbing a warm washcloth and taking it into the bedroom after a quick stop to the kitchen to get you both a glass of water, blowing out the candles along the way. When you return, Eddie is nearly half asleep, hands resting on his stomach and head lolling to the side. You wake him up with a soft kiss before wiping him down and making him take a sip of water. He thanks you while you reach for a discarded shirt of his and blowing out the rest of the candles. You snuggle up to him in the darkness, the smell of candle smoke reminding you that it was probably late enough for your birthday to be over.

"Fuck baby, where did that come from?"

"Somewhere deep within." You joked, giggling into his chest.

He pressed his lips to the top of your head and the two of you lay in a comfortable silence, allowing sleep to consume you. You forced yourself to peek at the time through bleary eyes before it did.

11:59pm

"Happy birthday, sweetheart."

-----

Taglist:

@ali-r3n @mrsmarch64

#happy birthday to me #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #sub!eddie

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