#and then Dick unconsciously whistles once at that move and tells him that it looks great (he doesn't remember Jaybin doing it before)

[prlssprfctn]

In his new room - in his new house - Jason searches up for a circus performances and stares at them for hours. First, he watches at them mindlessly, unconsciously curious, and then, he starts to take notes.

He is a street kid, and everything about him screams of that. So, he is nowhere near the grace of these performers on the screen. His arms are not that strong, too, but he is agile, and his legs are much stronger - he can think of something.

He can be just as good as the boy he is replacing.

It is not like someone tells him to match Richard Grayson, and it is not like someone admits that Jason is here to replace the first Wonder Boy, but Jason heard Bruce's conversation with Dick earlier. It was meant not for his ears, but it doesn't matter now.

"So, now what, you exile me, and bring a boy to replace me?!"

Jason is not mad. All of it ‐ adoption papers, the manor, the school - is much more than he ever thought he would get in his life. Being replacement doesn't sound as bad anyway; especially, if his brother is so cool.

So, he makes notes on circus performances and slightly chopes his hair. They are much curlier than Dick's - he has more of a wavy ones, and the only ever look that way, when they get long; his childhood photos with short hair looks too straight - but the cut does its magic.

The next day, Bruce compliments his hair absentmindedly and is positively surprised by his new moves on the patrol, asking where he learnt it from. Jason lies about not remembering, but his cheeks are flashed, and his smile is all about teeth. He can't wait to show it to Dick once they finally get on a mission together.

Expect, when they do, Dick just nods and mutters a light-hearted "good job" before leaving to talk with his team. And Jason knows Dick doesn't want to be mean - he gets it; no one feels good about having a replacement, especially the one that seems so cheap in comparison - but he still cries that night in his pillow, feeling himself a little kid, even if he isn't one. Even if he never was.

Jason wonders if his own replacement would make him understand Dick.

But Jason never gets replaced.

No matter the taunting voice of the Lazarus Pit in the back of his head - that sometimes sounds suspiciously like Talia's; you remain unavenged and replaced - and his own intrusive thoughts that spiral in uneven lines, Jason doesn't think Tim was ever meant to be his replacement. Being replaced means to match the person that was meant to be left behind. And no one asked Tim to be like Jason.

If anything, memory of Jason was thrown under the rag, hidden and locked securely in heads of those who survived. And if they brought Jason up, then it was always an example of what Robin shouldn't do: run away, disobey, and allow emotions to consume you. So, not much of an exemplary original. More like an opposite.

Jason feels an urge to explain that to Tim once; when they sit together on the rooftop, almost like a proper family, instead of broken pieces of someone's idea of a one.

'You could never replace me,' he says, and the instant it leaves his mouth, he knows it came out wrong.

Tim rolls his eyes.

'Yeah, dude. Whatever.'

'No, I mean—' He grits his teeth, scrapping slightly the back of his hand. 'I mean... You could never replace me, because... Because you were always better.'

Tim freezes. His big blue eyes shift in something more confused, and it is almost as if he is not sure how he needs to react — to protest? To agree? To thank him?

Jason doesn't know what to do, too.

He wants to say: it is easy as that, babybird. They wanted to have someone who would have nothing in common with me — someone who could help them to forget about my existence, about the existence of the failed Robin.

But he can't make himself speak again. And he is not sure he wants to stay any longer to hear Tin manging to put his thoughts in the words; he is better than him at this, too, and he almost always sounds convincing.

So, he leaves.

In his room - in the building he owns now - he ruffles his outgrown hair, fluffs up the white streak, and passes by his only remaining photo with Bruce in the frame, on the shelf under the stolen tire.

He still does this semi-circus move in his fights - almost frozen in the air, with his back arched - but he doesn't expect anyone to compliment him anymore.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Things Are Changing (Part 14)

Previous | Masterpost | Next

Jason waited at the bar, tapping his fingers on a pint of beer he was too nervous to actually drink. Danny had gone out with the birds of prey tonight to either look after, or make a mess of, crime alley in his absence. He’d find out which one in the morning, though he trusted Danny to keep most of the Chaos under control since he loved their home almost as much as Jason did. 

He wasn’t nervous about what they were doing, he was nervous about meeting Roy again. Which was probably why he was early for the meeting, early enough to get a beer that was no longer as cold as it had been. He sighed at himself and took a sip. 

“Hey buddy,” Roy greeted, biting back a chuckle at the way Jason jumped. 

“Damn you and your light steps. You'd think after growing so much you'd make a little more noise,” Jason sighed, taking another sip from his beer before getting up and hugging Roy so tightly it made him wheeze. “It's good to see you too.”

“Damn, you got strong,” Roy gasped, patting Jason's back awkwardly. “You were such a scrawny kid too.”

“Ya,” Jason chuckled, putting Roy down again. He stepped back a little while Roy ordered a beer and glanced around for a more secluded table where they could talk a little more openly. Once Roy had his beer Jason jerked his chin towards the table, Roy nodded so Jason led the way over to it and they sat together. “It was from being malnourished as a kid, but a dunk in the pits seems to have repaired a bunch of that shit and I absolutely shot up! 

“It was kinda weird because for the first… year there I was barely conscious so when I finally came back to myself it was already to a body that was so much larger than the one I was used to. The LOA had been drilling me on techniques and shit so unconsciously I knew my new size and strength but anytime I tried to do something and thought even a little to hard about it I’d be so fucking clumsy! And you wouldn’t believe how many doorways I hit my head on before I got used to this height,” Jason chuckled, and Roy laughed along with him.

“Damn that's crazy, but also I totally get it. I was kept unconscious by Cadmus for years, when I finally got out of that fucking tube I’d lost my arm,” he held up his prosthetic, which was so good Jason had barely noticed it before. “And my muscles were so atrophied moving around felt nothing like it used to. I didn’t grow That much but it still… it was so fucking weird.” He sighed and took a bigger gulp of his beer, it clearly wasn’t easy to think about still.

“That’s fucked up,” Jason sighed, patting Roy’s shoulder. “Cadmus are a bunch of bastards. If you ever want help blowing up any of their shit let me know. I’m pretty good with explosives and guns now, and Danny would help too, and let me tell you,” Jason whistled softly and gave an almost feral grin. 

“Both you and Dick always go for the powerful ones huh?” Roy cackled, elbowing him.

“Hey! To be fair to me I didn’t know he was this powerful when we got together! I knew that he had a healing factor but that was all I knew until after we moved in together.” Jason said with a dramatic pout. 

“Still, I bet you picked up on the vibe,” He said and Jason sighed because he couldn’t refute that.

“What about you though? You said Lian’s mom is in prison now but who was she?” Jason asked, he figured it was fair game after the teasing about his own relationship, though he second guessed himself when he saw Roy sigh and slump a little.

“Cheshire,” he murmured, tracing the lip of his glass with a finger. 

“No shit!” Jason breathed, shocked but at the same… she was an interesting character, Jason knew she wasn’t all bad, and she was pretty.

“Ya, and she’s a good mom. She adores Lian, but you know how she and Artemis grew up right? They never really had a chance. I tried for years to keep her with us, but I don’t think she can get out of the life for real when she doesn’t know anything else. I can’t keep waiting for her, me and Lian, we gotta move on and make the best of things you know?”

“Ya, I get that, Do you have anyone else in your life now though? Since I’m assuming you and Cheshire aren’t really a thing anymore?” Jason asked curiously. 

“No I haven’t,” Roy said with a little shrug. “I tried at first you know? Especially since people kept saying Lian would need a mom, but dating with a kid is hard. I’d rather just focus on her then try to chase any skirt. Artemiss lives with us off and on so it’s not like Lian doesn’t have a female role model, me and Artemiss just don’t fit together. We tried to kiss one and it felt so fucking wrong! She’s like my sister.”

“I’m glad you’ve got support, and you’re doing great. If you ever need any help I can give, just let me know okay? Maybe it’s kinda sad to say since we haven’t talked in years, but you’re still my best friend.” Jason admitted, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

“Nah, it’s not that weird, you might still be my best friend too,” Roy said with a wry little smile and a shrug. “Sad… maybe, but honestly I’d say we’re both pretty fucking sad already.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, so cheers to that,” Jason laughed and they clinked their glasses together, giving each other sardonic smiles. 

They were quiet for a moment, just drinking their beers before Roy put down his drink and cleared his throat. “So, I assume Danny is your boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” 

“Ya, that’s him. He’s been with me a long time, even before we started dating. He’s… He’s absolutely amazing Roy, I’m not sure I deserve him,” Jason sighed.

“Oh come on now, of course you do, you-” Roy started but Jason was shaking his head and biting the inside of his cheek.

“There’s a real power imbalance Roy, and you wouldn’t think so given how physically powerful he is, but that doesn’t really matter. What matters more is he worked for me before we got together, and he’s so fucking broken after everything he’s been through. And I’m not kidding Roy, what he’s been through makes what happened to both of us look like a vacation. He sees me as his saviour, he’s said multiple times that he would do anything for me and he means it. 

“Roy…” Jason bit his lip, he hadn’t admitted this to anyone, hadn’t talked about it with anyone. Suddenly he was nervous as hell someone would overhear. “Do you mind if we go back to one of my safehouses to talk about this actually?”

“Sure, you got one nearby? We almost should have started there honestly,” Roy agreed, already pushing himself away from the table. 

“Ya, probably,” Jason chuckled awkwardly, putting down some money for their drinks and following Roy out. “There’s one in walking distance.” 

Neither of them spoke again until they were inside and settled on the beat up couch. “So, what were you going to say?” Roy prompted and Jason groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. 

“I’ve had some serious anger issues since coming back, the Lazarus pit really did a number on my temper and my self control. Danny never defends himself. He’ll defend other people if he thinks I’m going overboard. But I don’t know if he has any self worth beyond what he thinks he can do for me you know? I love him, and he loves me and I love how devoted he is, but he’s almost too devoted you know?” Jason said, having thought better of actually admitting to beating Danny.

“Oh shit man, ya, that’s… complicated,” Roy said with a sympathetic frown. “I’ve never had to deal with anything like that, I don’t really know what to tell you, except I guess, encouraging him to make his own friends and shit, and try to be worth his loyalty?” 

“Ya, I’ve been trying,” Jason sighed, rubbing his face again and ruffling up his hair. “I can’t push him away, both because I love him and I don’t want to, and because he’s explicitly told me losing me would break him, like actually kill him.”

“That’s fucked up,” Roy agreed uncertainly. 

“Ya… But I mean other than that things are great. And He’s hot as hell,” Jason joked, trying to lighten the mood again after all that. It wasn’t fair to have Roy to have any actual advice, this situation was so far outside the realm of the normal.

“Ya? I believe you, the crazy ones usually are,” Roy joked back, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “But pics or it didn’t happen.”

Jason laughed and pulled out his phone, swiping through the pictures he had of Danny, and of Danny and himself. Most of the pictures on the camera were of Danny honestly, and not all of them were fully appropriate. Danny liked to feel watched during sex and the camera would do.

“Damn, he is hot,” Roy agreed with a low whistle and punched Jason’s shoulder lightly. “Good for you dude.

“I can’t wait for you to meet him, you’re going to love him I’m sure. And hey, if you do like him, we like sharing,” Jason said with a meaningful little smirk that made Roy blush and choke. Jason laughed softly at him and switched apps to text Danny he was good to come join them now when he was ready too.

----------

Danny was having fun running with the birds of Prey, they were busting up a trafficking ring Seline had found and doing a damn good job of it too he’d say! The girls were responding better to the ladies and Danny’s obviously queer self than they might have to the bats, and none of the traffickers had stood a chance against them!

Once it was done they went their separate ways, Harley and Salena wanted to make sure the girls got to a trusted shelter safely, and Ivy wasn’t really a people person so without her girlfriend there to help she left quickly too. Danny didn’t mind, he was just waiting for Jason to text him it was alright to come back, it shouldn’t be that much longer. He had already gotten a text that the visit was going well, which made him smile and eased his worry. 

He was just gazing up and the smog covered sky, considering going for a fly to see the stars when he heard a thump on the roof behind him. Danny had a bad feeling about who that was, since either of the brothers would have texted him before showing up. He sighed heavily and turned around seeing Batman looming on the other side of the rooftop. Though maybe it was Danny’s imagination that his posture was more uncertain then it had been before?

“What do you want?” Danny drawled, looking back up at the sky.

“I just want to talk,” Batman said, and Danny definitely wasn’t imagining that his voice sounded softer and less rough. “I… misjudged you at first, I couldn’t accept what Jason is capable of now and you were an easy scapegoat. I understand now that… Well, that it’s not your fault.”

“Huh,” Danny sounded, blinking in surprise and looking back at Batman consideringly. That hadn’t been what he expected. “Well, thanks I guess.”

“Constantine thinks he knows what you are.”

Danny barked a laugh and leaned back a little. “So what’s the old magician’s theory?” He asked, cocking his head to the side with a knowing little smirk. 

“He says you're a halfa, the first one in thousands of years,” Batman shared, and Danny froze for a moment. 

“Huh, I hadn’t expected him to get it right,” He sighed sitting down on the edge of the roof and propped his elbows on his knees. 

After a moment of hesitation Batman came closer and sat down next to Danny, still out of arm's reach, which he appreciated. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, truly. And I’m sorry about what my colleagues said, whether the beings of the Infinite Realms are threats or not, it was an incredibly inappropriate response.”  

“If you just came to apologize, then apology accepted, and you can go now,” Danny said, giving Bruce a suspicious look. 

“No, that’s not all,” Bruce said, steepling his fingers and leaning forward on his knees. “Constantine told me that according to legends Halfas were creatures of balance, guardians of sorts. Do you have any way to learn about your… cultural heritage?” 

“Some of the ancients lived when halfas were still around. Frostbite and Clockwork have told me some. I’m still very young, I’ve been dead less than 6 years-” He noticed Batman wince slightly but ignored it- “It’ll take me a long time to grow into whatever it is I’m supposed to be.  Don’t you hold your breath when I do though. Balance and Justice aren't the same things after all. If I do ascend I’ll be fighting against you as often as I’m on your side I expect,” he chuckled.

“Right,” Bruce sighed. The disappointment in his voice made Danny cackle, though he muffled it with a hand since Batman was playing nice. “Well, the Justice League have a few supernatural consultants on call if you need to talk to someone. And if you need any help, really, let me know.” He stood up and held out a card. “Not that you need it with how close you are with both my-... All of my sons, but if you need any help. Call me. Being alone isn’t easy.”

“I absolutely won’t, but thank you,” Danny said, but after a moment of hesitation he slid the card into one of his pants pockets. Batman seemed satisfied with that, nodded to him. “And I’m not alone, I have Jason.” 

Batman froze for a moment, looking at Danny with wide eyes before Danny realized how that had sounded. He shook his head with a laugh. “No, Jason isn’t a halfa. His resurrection was under completely different circumstances! He’s got a bit of the Realms in him, but it doesn’t flow through him like it does me. He’s still, like, 85% human.”

“That… That’s good,” Batman sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

“Did you have any more questions?” Danny prompted, cocking his head. 

“You offered help with any Realms beings. Do you expect we’ll have any trouble?” Batman asked, cocking his head a little. 

“Maybe,” Danny said with a little shrug. “It depends if the GIW still has an active portal somewhere, and how good their security is on it. Must be better than my parents used to be or we’d already be up to our eyeballs in confused ghosts, but it’s always a possibility.” He noticed the considering look Batman was giving him and gave a crackling laugh; “I haven’t been back to the realms in years. If anything’s going on there I don’t know about it. Though I’m sure Clockwork knows where I am if they really need me.” 

“Right, thank you for the offer,” Batman sighed and stood up. “And just think about my offer alright? If you need help, or protection, call. Not just from the GIW.”

Batman hesitated, opened his mouth to say something else and then sighed and shook his head. Whatever it was he seemed to have thought better of it as he turned away with a swish of his cape and grappled away. Dramatic bastard. 

Danny chuckled and shook his head at the older hero’s behaviour and pulled his phone out again. He had a text from Jason, telling him which safe house he and Roy were hanging out at and that he should come. And maybe… if he wanted to, to bring lube and the three of them could have some fun. 

Danny grinned sharply and licked his lips beneath his muzzle, well he’d just swing by their nest on the way over then! He texted Jason he would be there soon, and asked if they’d need condoms too.

[blackfangedreaper]

I can’t tell if request are open but could I request luffy reacting to his s/o dancing on stage with this song and dance cover (https://youtu.be/qnPTDEaP9Hw ) ? + marines are watching too if u can do that

HE KNOWS

Pairings: Monster trio + Aokiji, koby, shanks and mihawk x dancer!y/n

Warning: fluff, suggestive themes, cursing, grammatical errors. MDNI.

Tags: @closet-degenerate @h3rfave @iin0va @avaricious-hoe @audreys-works @444katsuki

Note: loved the idea nonna and yes my requests are open.

LUFFY

The sparkles in his eyes as he watched you twirl, drop then swing your hair, you looked so good dancing up there, so good he didn't know if he wanted to join you or let you be. Nami pulled him by his ears when he got too close to the stage unconsciously, too hypnotised by your moves to notice.

Couldn't resist trying to go closer once again to the stage to see you more. His jaw dropping when you dropped to a split. His pupils shaking at your sensual movements swallowing thickly when you blew a kiss at him. He loved it every second of it.

His eyes drooping slightly taking a halflidded form at the way you swung your hips, hunger present in his eyes as he maintained eye contact with you all through. He wanted something and you'll give it to him,- "Hey, do the thing you did with your waist on stage!" -He knows.

ZORO

His gaze trailed all over your body as you danced in those thigh high 4 inched heels, the ones you dragged him out to buy with you. And they fit you so well, the leather sticking to the skin of your thighs perfectly.

His pants tighening as your ass hung in the air for a moment, your movements were so sensual, it drove him crazy. He couldn't wait to get you alone, maybe you'll give him a private dance, on his dick that is.

He couldn't take his halflidded eyes off you, swinging his head back to finish his booze before relaxing on the chair, his arms over the couch, legs manspread and head tilted a little to rest on the couch. His eyes on you just like you wanted it- "Greedy little thing, look how you're sucking me in." -He knows.

SANJI

This one was on the brink of passing out but he had to stay awake, he had to. Just watching you swing your hips to the beat of the song had blood flowing out through his nose in spurts.

Tears in his eyes as you winked at him, his nose stuffed with tissues and cheering a muffled. ''Y/n-chwan". His eyes wide open as not to miss a single moment. His eyes almost rolled back when your ass hung up in the air.

God knows he's horny and he's not too proud to beg after your little dance he'll show you the bed then after, breakfast in bed. You'll just love what he has planned,- "Hm? Faster? Whatever you want sweetheart." -He knows.

AOKIJI

Was very flustered although not visibly. He was trying to play it cool, but his eyes were erratic behind his shades. Whistling when your ass jiggled in those short shorts or when your boobs bounced in your crop top.

Tapped his feet steadily to beat as he watched you twirl on the floor before getting up slowly, his normally cold body heating up at your halflidded stare.

All that cake and he couldn't wait to give you some filling and with the look you had on your face you wanted him to hit it till you lose all feeling,- "Ah... What mess, what's the point of filling you up if you'll just pour it back out." -He knows.

KOBY

Would have passed out if helmoppo hadn't held him steady, he's seen you dance before infact he watches you dance all the time but this somehow feels different watching you dance all so sexy especially in those clothes, it stirs up something in him.

From the moment you turned around he knew what you were doing, watching you back it up then drop it down. All eyes were on you and he wasn't gonna lie you've got him watching too.

Using his marine uniform to fan himself a little, was it him or it was hot. Either way he was sure it was you, the way you smirked at him you wanted something from him and what exactly do you want?- "Pl-Please, don't tease!" -He knows.

SHANKS

Kept smirking with an obvious blush on his face. No way was he going to let you get away with teasing him like that. Just look at you, dancing so sexy and even in sexier clothing, if you think he'll let you down slowly you've got another thing coming.

Teeth tugging on his bottom lip as he watched you dip and twirl. A little 'fuck' escaping his mouth as his eyes followed the way you caressed your body. Groaning when you smiled suggestively at him reminding him of your earlier statement.

"Shanks, I'll be back after this one song, then you're taking me home." You winked before leaving him with a kiss on the cheek as you swayed all the way up the stage. The smirk on his face never dropping as he thought of all the things he'd do to you tonight and only- "Hahah! Not so bold now huh?!" -He knows.

MIHAWK

He smiled into his wine cup, sipping the drink as he eyed your movements. He leaned back into the bar stool groaning when you dropped it down and whined, you were going to be the death of him.

His attention on you and noone else, watching it bounce as you danced, the way you licked your lips to tease not only him but the others in the crowd. Chuckling a little when you smiled innocently in his direction, well aren't you cute.

The atmosphere, the clothes, the bloody song, it was all you, you knew the attention it brought but to be honest he wasn't all that surprised he knows you love the attention that you get when you move and You know,- "Eager Eager, a little patience won't hurt, querido [darling]." -He knows.

[venusiangguk]

gold rush pt. 3 | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader

>>genre: pwp, v little plot, smut, kinda fluffy, college au (kinda), established relationship

>>word count: 9.9k um?

>>warnings: pegging!!!, butt stuff!!!, sexy anal!!!, sub jk, soft dom oc, crying why do i always make everyone cry, fingering (m), strap on, dildos, vibrators, sex toys, sex shop adventures, explicit sex, like so explicit this bitch is basically 10k, mutual masturbation, coming untouched, kisses, aftercare in the form of snacks, titty squeezing, dirty talk, excessive use of pet names, yoongi exists

>>notes: i wasn’t gonna write this bc ur girl does not know the first thing about pegging, but jk sucking the strap came to me in a dream and i had to do it. it was highly requested so i hope u like it! i wrote and poorly edited this whole thing today so im sorry for any mistakes !! 

>>summary: jk wants the strap, and jk gets what he wants !!

pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

The sun is shining, and there’s just the perfect amount of breeze to cool Jeongguk as sweat runs down his temple. The soccer pitch just got cut, making the ball much easier to control, and therefore much easier to aim at Jimin’s ass. It’s cool-down time, so the team is in groups of three, idly kicking the ball between each other, for the last few minutes of practice. All in all, a great day to talk about getting pegged with his best friends.

Jeongguk glances around the field, making sure the other groups are far enough away from him and his friends before clearing his throat. “So… do you guys like… get pegged?”

When Taehyung passes the ball to Jimin, Jimin completely misses it due to the fact that he is looking at Jeongguk like he is the most pitiful human on the planet. Jeongguk adjusts his shin guard to avoid the scrutiny.

“Gguk… honey… are you dumb?”

Taehyung’s jogging back after retrieving the ball that ran astray. “No, Mini. He’s straight.” He kicks the ball to Jeongguk. “If by ‘pegged’ you mean fucked in the ass by a real dick, then yeah. We do.”

Jeongguk receives the ball with a ‘rainbow’ and juggles it from his thigh to his laces, balancing the ball for a second before kicking it to Jimin. He nods, contemplative. “Nice.”

“Okay ace.” He passes to Taehyung, before throwing Jeongguk a teasing look. “You thinking about taking it up the ass, Gukkie?”

“Perhaps I’m contemplating.” He sniffs nose in the air.

Taehyung laughs. “Got your button milked once and now you wanna take a phallic shaped object? Proud of you.” He places his hand over his heart, like the mere thought of Jeongguk getting railed makes his heart warm.

A whistle blows, and Jeongguk kicks the ball up to his arm, tucking it into the curve of his trim waist. “Why does everyone call it a button? And it hasn’t only been once.” He sounds exasperated and so so tired.

His friends jog to bump shoulders with him as they make their way to the locker rooms. “Hey, jokes aside, I think it’s cool you’re like comfortable enough, or whatever, with __ to explore the things you like.” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Okay Dad.”

“No seriously!” Jimin insists, holding the locker room door open for them. Fuck the rest of the team. “She seems good for you. Babys you like you need.” Jimin laughs.

Jeongguk’s shirt gets caught on his head as he squawks. “I don’t just like being babied, fuck you.”

“Okay so she also entertains your sadistic side. She’s the full package.”

Jeongguk looks down with a blush. He shrugs his shoulders lightly before bending over to get out of his gear. “She’s pretty cool I guess.”

Taehyung knees him while he’s still bent over making him stumble a bit. “Awe, Jeonggukkie is in love.”

“Shut up.” Jeongguk smacks him in the face with his smelly sock.

“When you gonna do it?” Jimin asks, buttoning his new pants. 

Apparently they aren’t showering today. Jeongguk will just have to stop at his dorm before heading to yours to help you study. That reminds him that you have a test on Friday, but are free this weekend. He just so happens to be free as well. The team they were supposed to play had to forfeit because their coach got caught sleeping with one of the cheerleaders. Sucks, but good for Jeongguk and his little asshole.

“Maybe this weekend.” With their backpacks on, they start the trek back to the dorms. It’s nearing night now, the sun just starting to set in the sky. Jeongguk pulls out his phone to tell you he’s stopping by his place before heading to you. You reply quickly.

baby🥺���😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

okie

wanna have sex instead of helping me study 

me:

yeah but im not gonna 

just think about how good the sex will be when u get an a 

baby🥺💘😏🧠🙄👊🏻:

🙄

When Jeongguk pockets his phone, Taehyung speaks up.

“You think she’ll be down?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah, probably.”

Ever since the first time you made him cum untouched, butt stuff has been a moderately regular occurrence for you both as a long-term, healthy, pro-ass eating couple. Honestly it was mostly him getting his butt played with, but he supposed it made sense. Like Jimin explained to his once naïve self, it was just biological- or something. Whatever. He wonders if three fingers will be enough to fit a fake dick in his ass. He asks his friends.

“Eh…” Jimin starts, looking up like he’s thinking. “Maybe, but you might wanna try to get to four, maybe five if you're using hers, since she’s tiny.”

Jeongguk’s mouth falls open and he pales. Taehyung notices and laughs.

“Don’t get scared. It’s just better to over-prep than under-prep. And like obviously you work up to it, she’s not just gonna shove her fist or her cock up your ass.”

Her cock. A little tingle settles in Jeongguk’s lower belly at the statement. He’s been thinking about this for a while, looking at porn in his free time. Seeing the way the guys moan on their girls’ strap always gets him hard. Seeing how hard their cocks get when the toy hits them just right. He throbs when he sees the guys cum just from the strap, no hands. Maybe he should fuck you when he gets to your dorm instead of helping you study. His cock is feeling a little plump.

“Alright well… Bye, thanks for being gay and answering my anal questions!”

As he’s pressing the button to his elevator, they lived on opposite sides of the athlete dorm and there were different elevators for each of the wings, Jimin chirps, “Don’t forget to empty your asshole really well, and don’t eat the day of! Also buy extra lube and put a spare blanket down!”

Jeongguk winces. Valuable information indeed, information he mentally pockets, but did he need to yell it in the dorm common room?

“Noted!” He yells back at the elevator dings and opens up. Jeongguk pretends like he doesn’t meet the curious, kind of confused gaze of one of his teammates. He must have walked in while Jimin was yelling and only caught the end of the conversation while waiting for the same elevator. Jeongguk gets in and immediately closes the doors. He can catch the next lift.

~~~

Jeongguk’s got his head in your lap and you’re running your fingers through his long, silky hair. He showered today, so waves of his aromatherapy lavender shampoo are wafting up to you. Sweet boy. He seems sidetracked, occasionally sighing and subtly twisting, but is still more or less purring on your thigh, feet tucked up onto the cushion of the couch. Netflix is on the small tv that was left by the last person who lived there, you’re mac book connected via HDMI. You’re not really paying attention. Mind kind of tired from all the studying you had done this week. Jeongguk fidgets a tiny bit again, wiggling like he’s trying to get comfortable. He huffs a sigh.

“Hey,” You say softly, getting his attention.

His body curves at the waist, causing his t-shirt to bunch up and show off the dip of his hip bone. He looks up at you with wide eyes. He seems surprisingly awake. Must have some busy little bees buzzing around his mind. He makes a little questioning noise.

“You okay? You’re kinda fussy.” You murmur.

He groans. “I-  am just thinking.”

“About?” You drag the word out in a singsong-y manner.

The way Jeongguk’s face flushes is so pretty, you have to stop yourself from cooing. 

He moves himself from your lap and sits facing you. He looks like he's thinking about what to say, or how to say what he’s thinking so hard about. 

Eloquently he states, “I’m horny.”

You glance at his cock. Not quite hard, but a little happy and excited. You chuckle, leaning towards him, giving him a playfully sexy look. “Okay, let’s fuck baby.”

Jeongguk blushes even more, cheeks tinted red, while he leans away from you.

You pout. “What?”

Again he pauses, a small pout on his lips. He seems to be in a soft, needy, difficult mood. You’re probably going to have to pry what he wants to say out of his mouth.

With another uncalled for exasperated huff, Jeongguk rolls his eyes and moves closer to you before catching you by surprise and swinging a leg over your lap. He’s facing you while he straddles your thighs. His arms are looped around your neck, he’s playing with a little bit of your hair, twirling the long length around his fingers. You smile up at him, gently. Your palms squeeze at his narrow hips encouragingly.

“I want to try something new…” He says. He sounds nervous and looks at you the same.

“Mhmm.” You say, fighting a smile. 

“Really bad. Like I want it really bad.” His hips roll, probably unconsciously from the way he closes his eyes to ground himself. 

You peek at his lap, and his cock is bulging, the fabric of his sweatpants doing nothing to help hide it. You bring your hand to it, and massage him through his pants.

He whines and pushes against your palm before a hand comes down and grabs your wrist, stopping the movement. “Quit it, I’m trying to talk.” He’s so petulant and whiny.

You move your hand away and place it back on his hip, giggling a little. “Well spit it out, then.”

He scowls. You reach up and smooth the wrinkle in his brow before trailing it down and cupping his cheek. He softens immediately, melts like butter in your hands. His eyes close and he lets out a soft sigh, body relaxing a little.

He’s whispering, kinda giggling out of embarrassment, when he says, “I want you to fuck me.” He pauses, peeking at you through his lashes. “Like for real.”

Almost instantly a little spark ignites in your belly, and you feel your pussy get that telltale heartbeat. You didn’t want to push Jeongguk into anything, but you’ve been thinking about taking the ‘next step’ with your… ass-plorations for some time. But you figured he would get to the same point on his own, and would come to you when he was ready. Turns out you know him as well as you thought you did.

“Yeah?” You rub your free hand up his side. 

He nods quickly, eagerly. You pinch his cheek lightly, and he retaliates by trying to bite at it. To avoid the attack it finds his way back to his waist.

“When did you want to? Tonight?”

He wiggles impossibly closer to you. Kisses you quick before nodding again. “Yeah. I um. I already like prepped… mostly. I prepped what I could by myself.” He pauses with a cute thinking face. “You will probably have to help me a little. But yeah. I got ready for you just in case.” He nods.

You hum, glancing at the old clock on the wall, another gift from the prior tenant. 11:52 pm. 

“If we hurry, we can make it to a sex shop? They don’t usually close until 2 or 3 in the morning.” You suggest.

Jeongguk bites his lip, smiling excitedly. “Really? Can we?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, duh.” You lean up and give him a speedy, but thorough kiss, smiling into it. “Been wanting to peg you for so long.” 

His face scrunches endearingly. “Don’t call it that.”

He hops off your lap, and goes to grab the keys, wasting no time. He stands by the door expectantly. His cock is, extremely obviously, sticking out. Someone didn’t wear his briefs today.

“Can you like… kill that?” You’re laughing as you tug on some sweats of your own, having only been lounging in your panties and one of his shirts. Your usual at home attire.

He looks down, and has a smug grin on his face when he looks at you again. “It’ll go down in the car. Hurry up!”

~~~

A dildo looks so much bigger when one is looking at it knowing that it will be inside of them within the next few hours. And there are so many options and colors. Some vibrate, some have fake pubic hair on them. Some have balls that are squishy and feel eerily… accurate.

Jeongguk isn’t having second thoughts, no. But he is having thoughts. Very overwhelming thoughts. 

You’re next to your boyfriend, glancing between him and the varying selection of fake cocks displayed in front of you both, trying to gauge his reaction. He looks a little pale, but tentatively excited. Curious at the very least.

“Which one do you want?” You ask.

“No idea.” He responds, eyes wide.

Like most store clerks, one shows up, almost like they have a built in ‘customer needs help and has no idea which dildo to get to peg her super hot boyfriend’ radar. 

“You guys need help?” He is a small man, with a monotone voice. He looks like he would rather be anywhere else at 12:30am on a Saturday night. 

“NO!” Jeongguk says quickly and loudly. Very loudly.

Both you and the store clerk flinch, looking at him shocked.

Jeongguk shifts on his feet. “No.” He says in a more socially acceptable tone. “No- I’m sorry. But we’re uh-” He grabs your arm and pulls you closer. “We’re good, thanks.”

The clerk looks between you and Jeongguk and the dildos. “Um… Alright.” He starts to walk away before he turns back around. “Well if you change your mind, I’m Yoongi and I’ll be at the counter. If your toy is electric I’ll test it in the back before you leave… We uh- provide batteries with your purchase if needed…” With one last glance, a very judgmental one in Jeongguk’s opinion, Yoongi takes his place at said counter. His eyes flicker to you guys every once in a while.

“Baby,” You grab Jeongguk’s face between your palms and make him look at you. You squeeze and his lips poke out making him look like a guppy. He blinks. “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay.”

He rolls his eyes, guppy face and all. “Well obviously. I just- We don’t need help.” He wiggles out of your grip, much like a… guppy.

You grin, trying not to laugh, and just be the supportive girlfriend you are. “Okay, did you decide which one you want?”

A side glance. “Not yet…”

You walk up and go to grab a pink sparkly one.

“Uh, not that one.”

You quirk an eyebrow and move your hand to a larger one.

“No.”

You play a little game of dildo hot or cold until you have a better idea of what Jeongguk wants. His preference seems to be skin tone, close to his own, with a more realistic feel. Normal balls though, not squishy. Also no faux hair. You thank him for that. If you actually had a penis it would surely be waxed. Bless Jeongguk for doing the same. As for size, he leaned more towards a very normal, moderate size. Maybe 5 or 6 inches at most, not too thick. Smaller than himself. One last option.

“Do you want it to vibrate?” You ask, holding one in your hand testing the numerous different settings.

He shakes his head, answering quick. “No.”

He pauses.

“Wait.” He thinks. “Maybe. Should we? You could use it too?” 

Sweet, kind, considerate angel. Always thinking about you and your pleasure. Couples who share the strap last the longest.

You shrug, pointing out, “I could use one that doesn’t vibrate too.”

He looks offended and sounds snotty. “Uh, you don’t need to.”

“Whatever. Why don’t we get both?”

You had a point. He pretends to ponder it, before nodding, already persuaded. “Okay.” 

“We need the harness now.”

You begin the harness hunt, walking through the store, coming across many a things, but for some reason you both keep missing them. They’re nowhere to be found. 

“Maybe they’re sold out?” He tries.

“Doubt it. Let’s go ask.” You grab him by his pinky and try to drag him to the counter. He resists. 

“Let’s not.”

“Koo.” You say giving him a look.

He whines, throwing his head back. Borderline throwing a fit. You hold your ground, smiling.

He’s easy to give in. Being a brat just on principle. “Fine but you’re talking.”

You stand on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. “Of course, baby.” With his pinky in hand, you make your way to the counter.

The store clerk, Yoongi, if you remember correctly, is sitting behind the counter hunched over smiling at his phone. He doesn’t seem to notice you’re there.

You clear your throat gently, “Excuse me?”

Yoongi jumps, almost throwing his phone. “Fuck!” He exclaims. His fists come up ready to fight before he sees it’s you and Jeongguk. He then places his hand over his heart. “Shit, you scared me.” He chuckles, recovering quickly. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him for a moment longer before speaking up. “Um yeah, I was just wondering where your harnesses are?”

He leans on the counter, head in his hand looking kinda bored. “Hanresses? What kind? Hanging harness? Body harness?”

You glance at Jeongguk and he looks like he’s going to die.

“The um- strap on harnesses?” Your voice goes to a whisper when you say it, despite it just being you guys in the store.

Yoongi sits up, and looks at you, and then looks at Jeongguk. A look of understanding comes over his face along with an amused smile. He nods to himself, while getting up to help you. “Nice. Follow me.”

Jeongguk gapes at the ‘nice’ and looks at you in disbelief. You pat his butt telling him to get going. 

With some help from Yoongi you pick out a harness that looks supportive and comfortable, the ring that holds the dildo, compatible with both the ones that you plan on getting. It’s a simple adjustable black one. Yoongi recommended wearing something under it if the straps dig into you and irritate. He seems bored, but he’s actually very good at his job, and very knowledgeable.  

Finally you’re at the counter. You place all the items in Yoongi’s reach and he’s just about to tell you the total when Jeongguk perks up.

“Wait!” He says before scurrying off.

It’s quiet for a split second. Before the clerk speaks up.

“He’s cute.”

You smile, “Thanks, he’s mine.”

Yoongi laughs, small little fish teeth and gums on display. Must be a Pisces. You know Pisces teeth. “Does he have any cute friends?”

You nod. “Yeah, but they are dating.”

He shrugs. “Don’t care.”

“Uh… I can give you their Instagrams?”

He pulls out his phone, and follows them right there after a quick glance at their pages. Confidence is nice.

There’s a short lull in the conversation. And Jeongguk seems to be taking his sweet time getting something you guys must have forgotten. Or the poor things lost. It’s a big store. You speak up this time.

“Do you have like a manager I could leave a review for? You were really helpful, and seemed like you really knew what you were talking about.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I own the place. You think I would be here on a Saturday night if it wasn’t obligatory? Thanks, though.”

“Oh.” You say. That was pretty impressive. The store was quite successful based on the reviews. You would make sure to let Jimin and Taehyung know Yoongi was a business man.

“Okay, I’m back.” Jeongguk announces. “Sorry I forgot where it was.”

He places 2 (two) large bottles of lube on the counter. You cough out a laugh.

“Baby, we have lube at home.”

“But do we have enough?”

“I think maybe one more would be more than enough.”

He ignores you, looking Yoongi in the eyes for the first time tonight. “Add both please.”

Yoongi nods, looking a little scared of Jeongguk’s seriousness, and does as he’s ordered.

After Jeongguk pays, and you both are making your way to the exit, Yoongi calls out, “Good luck, tell your friends to follow me back!”

“Uh- Okay?” Jeongguk yells back. When you’re in the parking lot, he asks, “What the heck was that about?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “Don’t worry about it.”

~~~

As soon as you get back to your dorm, the atmosphere is thick, full of tension and nervous anticipation. Jeongguk’s fidgety, eager to get started. You’re not far off, but contain yourself a little more. Need to keep control of the situation in case Jeongguk gets deep into his mood.

You guys are in the bathroom now, each one washing a toy before you use it. You make sure to unwrap the harness and the lube as well, both at Jeongguk’s insistent request, ensuring you don’t have to stop and deal with it later. 

“Let’s just get undressed in here, it’s where my hamper is.” You say already tugging your shirt over your head, tits bouncing freely. Jeongguk went without briefs today, and you went without a bra.

Jeongguk quietly follows suit, and you don’t miss the way his hands are trembling a little in anticipation. When you’re both naked he kisses you quickly, and jiggles your boobs a little just because they are there and because he can, before saying, “Okay, lets go.” He’s out the bathroom before you can even respond. You laugh to yourself and gather the stuff he forgot in his excitement.

When you walk out with your hands full, you see Jeongguk spreading out a blanket over your comforter.

“Whatcha doin?” You ask curiously, placing the items on the nightstand.

“Gets messy. Wanna save your bedding.” He states.

You squawk, grabbing the blanket he set up on your bed. “Not my baby blanket you monster.”

He laughs, abs tensing. You notice he’s already hanging a little heavy between his thighs. “Sorry. Was the first one I saw.” He walks over to the couch and replaces the blanket that’s hanging over the back with your baby blanket and resets up. “Better?” he asks, extended his arm towards your bed to show off his work.

You nod, and take the few steps needed to close the space between you both. Your hand runs down his belly, and you feel his muscles jump, and you see little goosebumps sprout all over. His hands come up to cup your tits. You kiss softly where his heart is. You look up at him.

“I love you.” You smile.

He blushes. “Love you.” He whispers, before he leans down and slots your lips together.

It’s eager from the start. Your bodies press together, as your hands roam. When he takes a breath and surges back in, your teeth click together is his haste, before his tongue slips into your mouth. He groans into you, his hand going down to cup your ass, squeezing and pulling you impossibly closer. 

You feel his cock against your belly, almost fully hard already. You reach down to wrap a hand around him, wanting to help him get there before you get started. He hisses, thrusting forward instinctively before pulling away. He looks like he hates that he does.

“No- I,” He’s already short of breath, chest rising and falling a little bit faster than normal. “I wanna watch you cum. With the toy.” He reaches around you, grabbing the vibrating dildo. “Please?” He asks. His eyes are fervent.

You take the toy in your hand, and kiss him again softly. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you. It’s all about you tonight.”

He shakes his head. “Always about you too.” 

Your heart beats, happy in your chest. You thought about it earlier in the night, but Jeongguk really was the best lover. He always, always made sure you were taken care of, before, during, and after sex. He was so vocal and communicative, genuinely wanting you to know it was always about both of you, even if one was receiving more attention. He was caring like that in and out of the bedroom. You were so lucky to be his.

“You’re too good to me,” You laugh, climbing onto the bed. You settle back against your pillows, propping some behind you so you can see him, and watch him while you get off. He takes his place in front of you, looking at you expectantly.

He’s impatient, placing his hands on your knees, spreading you open so he can see your cunt. You let him get you into position before saying, “Keep your hands to yourself now, okay?”

He nods, eyes never leaving your pussy. He licks his lips. “Okay.” It’s said in a distracted kind of far away tone.

You hum as you bring the toy to your mouth, getting it wet. You wouldn’t need any lube, you would be dripping in no time. You don’t waste any time putting your free hand down between your legs and spreading your pussy lips, so your clit and the pretty pink center of your cunt are displayed for Jeongguk. You glance at him through your lashes, when you hear a small gasp fall from his lips. He’s already got a hand around himself. Just the tips of his fingers stroking his length, at a leisurely pace. 

“She’s so pretty… You’re so pretty.” His eye flick to your face before zeroing in on your center again.

“Tell me how to do it baby. Tell me what you want to see.” You say, voice salacious and soft. You circle your finger slowly around your nub, dipping inside just a bit to spread your slick around.

When he swallows, it’s audible, his Adam's apple jumping. “I want you to turn it on low, and put it on your clit. I want you to feel good.”

You smile, and drag the tip of it down your body to just above your clit, turning it on the lowest setting before making contact with your sensitive nub. Your legs jolt, almost closing when you feel the vibrations. Even the lowest setting was strong. Your head falls back, and your legs spread more for him once you get used to the strength of the toy. “Fuck…” You breathe.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, greedy for your pleasure.

You nod, eyes still closed, focusing. You move the vibrator in small circles over your clit. You can hear Jeongguk’s breaths speed up.

“Turn it up.” His voice gives away that he’s speeded up his hand on his cock too.

You do as he says, looking at him as you do. He’s sin personified. He’s on his knees, sitting back on his feet, so his thighs are flexed and bulging. His abs tense when his palm twists under the crown of his cock. His eyes almost look black, pupils blown so wide, lust taking over his face. He’s got his plump bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He looks up from your pussy and catches you staring. He smiles shyly.

You keep your eyes on him as you bring the toy back down to your core. A short high pitched moan falls from your lips, as your brows knit together, before your eyes roll back. He groans, your expression enough to make his cock start to leak.

“Feels so good, Jeongguk.” You moan. The vibrator is right where it feels best, pulsing against your clit, causing pleasure to bleed into your veins. 

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, he’s breathless, sounds like he’s in love. With you, your cunt. “Tell me.”

“‘S just right Koo, could make me cum just like this…” 

He curses, and you open your eyes just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, keeping himself in check. “Not yet, baby. Little longer, please.” Still so polite and good for you, even when he’s the one telling you what to do.

He has you keep the vibe there, for a while longer, right in the spot that’s gonna make you lose it. He watches as a tiny clear drop leaks from you pink little pussy. It looks like it’s heavy and about to drip down to the blanket under you. He doesn’t notice your legs shaking until you’re gasping, “Koo, I’m almost- I’m gonna-”

“No!” He says quickly, his hand reaches out to pull the vibrator from your cunt just before you get your high. Your pussy aches and throbs, wanting to cum so bad. 

Your chest is heaving when you ask, “Are… are you edging me?”

He shakes his head, even though your eyes are closed, trying to catch your breath. “No, no! I just. I got distracted.” He looks at that small drop of slick again. Fuck, he wants to lick it up and drink you down. “You’re leaking.” He states.

You laugh, breathing getting back to normal. “Yeah?” You reach your hand down to collect the distracting little droplet and bring it in front of you. You press the sticky finger to your thumb and then pull them apart to see the clear strings stay connected even as you pull. You hum, before offering your hand to Jeongguk. He sucks in a breath.

“Want some?” 

He’s quick as he crawls between you legs, cock fully hard now. He watches you as he sucks your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around getting every last bit, before he sucks off with a pop!

He crawls farther up your body to kiss you deep, wanting you to get a taste of yourself too. He pulls back just a bit, and whispers against your lips, “I want you to fuck yourself with it, okay? Just for a little bit, then you can cum?” He’s phrasing it as a question, knowing he really doesn't have the final say, not tonight. But his voice is shaking from how turned on he is, how could you ever say no?

“Sit back.” Is all you respond. He does as he’s told.

You buzz the toy over your clit again, just because you can. Wanting to see how long Jeongguk can be good before begging. Turns out it’s not long at all. 

“Put it in…” He moans. You look at him and his mouth is parted, and his eyes heavy as he watches you. His hand is moving fast over his cock, sticking straight up to his tummy. “Please.”

You drag the toy down to your slit, and tease it there before just barely pushing it in just a fraction of the length. Jeongguk whines, high and desperate. Apparently you’re moving to slow for him.

“More,” He begs. 

You sigh, “You’re so needy tonight, baby.” He nods, agreeable.

When the toy sinks inside of you all the way to the hilt, you and Jeongguk both moan a quiet, “Fuck.” simultaneously. You’re coherent enough to laugh a little at the jinx, but he seems to barely notice, too focused on watching the toy sink into you, and then come back out to vibrate your clit again. You keep up this teasing pattern, again waiting to be told what to do by him, waiting to see how long he makes it this time.

“Harder, do it harder,” He’s panting. Moaning every word that leaves his lips.

You do as he says, and finally push the toy in at a pace that gets you climbing to being close again. You won’t be able to come like this though, and he knows that. Knows that you can only cum from penetration with him. He leans over and grabs the other toy from the end table, spitting on it and spreading it around until it's covered well.

“Use them both, want you to cum for me.”

With two toys in your hands, one in your cunt, filling you up, and one on your clit, making your legs shake, you do your best to make yourself cum. But it’s not enough. A soft whine falls from your lips, you’re so close, but you need more. More than you can give yourself.

“Faster baby, faster. You’re so close.” He whispers. He got both hands working now too, one stroking and one down tugging on his balls. 

You whimper, “I can’t my arm hurts. It’s tired.”

Immediately he stops pleasing himself and gets right to pleasing you. Your pleasure taking priority. “Shh, don’t worry, I’ll help you baby.”

Jeongguk sits between your legs, and takes over the toy fucking into you, and turns up the one on your clit. With him pushing the toy in at a pace that you couldn’t do yourself, and the other toy vibing your clit incessantly, it takes barely any time at all for you to cum. You were so close already, just needed him to push you over. 

Your legs are shaking and your toes are curling, when you cry out, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it, baby. Wanna watch.” He’s quiet, paying close attention to your body and the reactions he’s helping pull from it. He’s part of the reason why your face looks so pornographic as you finish. He’s part of the reason why your back is arching off of the bed. He’s part of the reason why your toes are curling, and why your legs are shaking, and why your pussy is contracting over the toy he’s still thrusting inside of you, working you through every last second of your orgasm. He reads your body cues, and slows down and pulls it out when you start to come down. You look blissed out, and you bring a hand to your hair and fluff it a little before laughing.

“That was good.” You sigh smiling, and when you look at him an image forms in your head, and you have every intention of making him carry it out.

Right before your eyes, Jeongguk wraps his lips around the toy that is going to be inside of him in just a short while, sucking off your slick. He laps his tongue around it trying to get it all. He’s obscene. 

“Gimme,” You say sitting up with an extended hand. 

He pouts at being interrupted, but does as he’s told. He takes your spot on the bed, and you head to the bathroom, stopping by your dresser on the way.

When you get to the bathroom, you close the door and get to cleaning the toys once again. After, you get to the stuff you grabbed from the wardrobe. A lacy pair of black panties, and sheer black thigh highs with matching lace adorning the tops. You slip into them, and then move on to the strap on. You hold it in front of you and try to make sense of which part goes where, and which holes your legs go into. It takes a second, but you get into it, adjusting it so it's nice and snug. Your outfit probably won’t help much with protecting your thighs, but at least the little part above your pussy will be safe. You look at yourself in the mirror. Not too weird or scary yet. You glance at the dildo on the counter.

It’s not too big so hopefully it’s not too… jarring when you see yourself with it. You get to work, slipping the suction base of the non-vibrating toy into the ring that’s meant to hold it in place. You look at it sticking out from your crotch and take a deep breath before turning to the mirror.

You gasp, before cackling quietly. You knew it was going to be weird. Like you knew. But actually seeing yourself with the whole get up is funny. Right now at least. You know it’s going to be sexy, once you get used to it and into the moment and inside of Jeongguk. You wonder how he’s going to react. Only one way to find out.

While you're walking to your bedroom from the bathroom, the dildo bobs, and you're giggling distractedly until you lift your eyes to let your boyfriend know you're ready. Again you’re met with a scene so indecent it belongs in a porno.

Jeongguk’s eyes are closed and soft moans are falling from his lips as he strokes his cock. He’s got three fingers in his ass, opening himself up for you, for your cock. Such a good good boy. He was so patient and productive while you got ready for him.

“You’re so good baby,” You murmur softly.

Jeongguk blinks his eyes open slowly, and rolls his head to the side to look at you. He doesn’t even falter in his movements at all, hand still moving, fingers still thrusting. He smiles a little when he sees you, but his eyes are hazy and he sounds lust drunk when he simply says, “You look sexy.”

You blush and a fond smile graces your lips, any embarrassment or self consciousness you were feeling prior to seeing him spread out for you on your bed, quickly vanishing.

You settle on the bed between his legs and watch for a moment as his hole takes his long fingers in. “Want me to help?” You ask quietly.

“Mhmm,” He nods, eyes closed still, tongue peeking out from between his lips. He doesn’t take his fingers out, though.

You grab the lube next to him, and flip it open. “You gonna get out so I can get in?” 

He shakes his head. “Nuh uh. Put one in with mine.”

Something about that makes your body tingle. Inside of him with him. Opening him up. You can’t explain it, because you don’t really even get it yourself, but it makes you buzz and feel almost high.

You slick up your middle finger, and drizzle some more on his for good measure. He jumps slightly, and then giggles softly.

“Cold.” He says.

“Sorry,” You say distractedly. Your finger is lined up with his now.

“I’ve never done 4 before so you… have to go slow…” He pauses as he speaks, letting himself moan freely when his fingers graze over that secret spot that he’s grown to love so much.

“Tell me to stop if you need to.”

He doesn’t reply, just stops his fingers so you can wiggle yours in next to his. At the first push against his hole, there’s resistance. Very much expected. He’s quiet, teeth gritted, but he never says stop, knowing his body wants it, and knowing it will accommodate what he wants. After the second knuckle, your finger sinks in, almost gets sucked in, by his hole.

He lets out a shaky breath.

“You okay, baby?” You check in.

“Yeah just… full.” He moans when you wiggle your finger experimentally. “”S good. Move it some more.”

You do, and his start to move with yours. You can feel his fingers curl inside of himself to reach his prostate, and it’s pleasant in an out of body way, knowing when his face is going to contort in pleasure, and when he’s going to cry out, when you never really knew before. You’ve milked him before, of course, but feeling him do it to himself from the inside? It’s kind of thrilling.

“Pull, stretch me out.” He moans, voice impatient and needy.

He gets kinda slutty when something’s up his ass.

He swears when you do, his finger rubbing insistent circles on his prostate to distract himself from the minor sting of the stretch. His moans, start to raise in pitch and his hand that’s on his cock, still jerking it, starts to speed up. You can tell he’s close. He clenches against your finger that’s still stretching him open.

“Fuck,” He says, on a breathless giggle, “Take them out. Or I’m gonna cum.” He’s still stroking his cock, like he doesn’t wanna stop.

“You c-” 

“No. Out.” He demands, hand finally pulling away from his cock, and his fingers inside stop. You gently ease out of him.

When Jeongguk’s fingers slip out, you gasp. His little pink hole is clenching on nothing, still open just the tiniest bit, thoroughly stretched.

“You know how you always say my pussy is pretty?” You ask, fingers tracing around the puffy stretched rim.

He makes an affirmative noise, watching you with hooded, lazy eyes as you touch him. He even spreads farther so you can touch and see better. You marvel at the difference between the embarrassed boy you made cum untouched a couple months ago, and the one in front of you now, so comfortable and relaxed. It makes you happy.

“Well, your butthole is pretty.”

He snorts, and kicks you lightly. He smiles at you, soft and sluggish. “Just fuck me.” 

He sounds so wistful and just ready.

But you’re not.

You grip the base of your cock, and stand up. You walk to the head of the bed, next to his confused face. You stay there waiting for him to get it. He doesn’t.

“You want me inside of you right baby?” You ask, voice gentle.

He nods, eyes no longer hazy, but wide and confused. He looks between you and your cock.

“I think that means you have to get me ready. Get me nice and wet, right?”

You can physically see when Jeongguk gets it. When it clicks for him. His eyes darken, and he licks his lips. “Yeah… You’re right. I should… help you.” He whispers, sitting up. You back up enough for him to have a place on the floor.

Jeongguk on his knees for you isn’t a new sight. He’s eaten your pussy like this before, you either grinding onto his face, or him holding you still and making quick work of your clit. But Jeongguk on his knees for you to suck your cock? New, and lewd. 

He looks nervous, kind of hesitant. A hand is raised midway, like he isn't sure if he should grab it. 

“Lick it, baby.” You encourage.

He glances at you, doe eyes seeking approval as he leans forward and gives a kitten lick to the tip. You nod, letting him know he’s doing well. His hand comes up and replaces yours at the base and he opens his mouth enough to wrap his lips around the head, and he swirls his tongue.

He pops off, and strokes up to where his mouth was and spreads the little bit of spit. The silicone is still dry though, so he spits on it more, straight from his mouth. You suck in a breath.

“Fuck, you’re so hot baby.” You whisper a breathy moan as his hands move up and down your cock. He adds his mouth again.

He hums a little, before backing up and looking at you again. “Does that feel good?” He asks.

You laugh lightly, in pure awe of him. He’s so sexy, and so sweet, and so incredibly lust inducing. Your pussy aches behind your cock. “Feels so good, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He hums, still stroking you off. “I really want it inside me…” He says, hinting that he’s ready.

You have mercy on him, having fulfilled your newfound personal fantasy enough for the night. Maybe you could revisit it another time. But now it was time to fulfill a mutual fantasy.

“On the bed, hands and knees.” You tell him.

Excitedly he hops back onto the bed, and gets into position, his hole on display for you. His back is arched and you can see the plush swell where his lower back meets the top of his cheeks. You settle behind him, and his shoulder to waist to hip ratio, is sinful. He’s always had the daintiest waist, strong, but still so small. But at this angle, it’s cinched and the way his legs are spread makes his hips look wider, accentuating the dip at his middle. You rub your hands over the narrow curve, all the way to his cheeks, grabbing handfuls of the muscle. There’s a slight give when you squeeze your hands.

Jeongguk’s head drops, and he lets out a shuddering sigh, he’s got the chills again, and he’s got a constant thrum coursing through his body. “Please…” He moans, so quietly, so desperately.

You kiss the small of his back before grabbing the lube left abandoned on the bed. You lather 2 of your fingers, and push them into Jeongguk’s hole making sure he’s nice and slick. There’s no resistance at all, hole loose and ready enough for them to slip right in. Then you lather your cock, probably with too much lube, honestly, but you wanted to be so sure that he didn’t feel any more pain than absolutely necessary. You knew the first initial push in would be the worst, but you were hopeful you both had stretched him out enough to at least minimize or diminish it altogether. 

You grab the base of your cock and line it up with his hole. It flutters, when you barely press against his rim.

“Ready?” You ask, giving a heads up.

“Yeah.” He says softly.

He’s tight. His hole sinks in with the tip of your cock before the rim gives and swallows around it. Jeongguk tenses and his hands grip the blanket under you. 

“Shit…” He groans. He sounds like he’s clenching his teeth.

You rub soothingly at his lower back, fingers dipping when you run them over the dimples at the bottom of his spine. “You’re doing so good baby.” You tell him.

“Doesn’t really hurt, I’m just stretching.” He says through his teeth. “I can take it though, keep going.”

You grab the lube and drizzle more directly onto his hole. He doesn’t mention the cold this time, too focused on taking your cock. You push against him, and feel yourself sink deeper into him. It’s like after the tip was in, his body knew what to do to take the rest. The slide wasn’t a swift, fast stroke, but it was a smooth and slow glide. When you bottom out Jeongguk’s arms give out from under him, his face going to the bed. 

“Holy fuck.” He keens, resting his head on his arms. Your hands are constantly on him, soothing him in any way that you can.

“Tell me when.” You whisper patiently. He nods. With his head turned to the side and pillowed on his arms, you can see his eyes are squeezed shut. The inhales and exhales you can see in the expanding of his ribcage, tell you that he’s taking deep breaths working through the stretch, getting himself used to it.

“Okay… Ready.” He murmurs.

You pull out just a bit before pushing back in. Jeongguk moans softly. Spreads his legs even wider, arches his back even deeper. He’s pushing his ass out for you, his body begging you to make it feel good.

You keep a slow pace, kind of nervous to speed up. 

“You can go faster, feels nice.” He says. He’s been puffing out little gasps of air every time you bottom out with your slow pace.

With his consent, you grab at his hips and pull out to just the tip, before swiftly pushing back in, fast and hard. His cheeks bounce on the impact. You grab one and jiggle it a little, thrusting into him again, drinking down the whines that slip out.

“You’ve got such a bubble butt, I never noticed before. But it like… bounces.” You say, wonder in your tone. 

“Thanks, can you like tell me about it later?” He asks, voice strained.

Point taken. 

Your thrust game is kind of shitty, in reality. It’s hard to find a rhythm, your hips not used to moving this way. But Jeongguk is moaning freely underneath you, just happy to have something inside of him after thinking about it all week. So you keep going, and eventually, the pattern comes to you, still kind of messy, but now you’ve got him cursing beneath you. You’ve got one hand on his ass, the other braced on his arched spine.

A particularly good thrust has Jeongguk burying his face into the bed, teeth biting at the bedding. “Yeah fuck-” He groans with his mouth full of blanket. With his hands now free, he brings them behind him and settles them on his cheeks and spreads.

You watch clearly as your cock sinks into Jeongguk’s ass. You’re out of breath, but you make sure to tell him how good he looks, how pretty his hole looks swallowing your cock, like it was made to take it.

“Wanna ride you.” He says. His voice is pitifully wrecked and he sounds so thoroughly fucked, you feel a little proud. Still, you’re grateful for a break. You don’t know how he fucks you like he does. ‘Topping’ is tiring. You pull out of him, and realize that when you were in awe of his hole at taking your fingers, it was premature. Jeongguk’s hole after he takes your cock is vulgar. It’s properly gaped now. Not huge, but around a fingers width.

He rolls over, and settles on his back like he just needs a moment. His chest is heaving, similar to yours. You hop off the bed, and a needy keen comes from him. You glance back at him, and he looks like he’s going to get up and follow you, but you hush him gently.

“I’m just getting some water, baby. I’ll be right back.” 

He huffs flopping back onto his back. “Hurry please.” He whines.

You get back as soon as possible with a glass of water for you both to share. He sits up onto one elbow and makes a grabby hand for the cup after you’ve had your share. You swat his hand away and hold the cup to his lips. He hums, gulping the water down. He’s happy to be coddled and taken care of. When he finishes with a cute little gasp, you place the cup to the side, and brush your hand through his sweaty hair. 

He butts his head against your palm and laughs. His eyes shut, and crinkled at the corners. His water break seems to have perked him up. His cock hasn’t deflated one bit. Rock hard and red, throbbing against his tummy. It’s messy and wet too.

You’re about to ask if he touched himself while you were inside of him, but before you can, you’re getting manhandled until he’s on top of you. He’s got your hands pinned above your head, and he smiles at you playfully, before leaning down to kiss you, deep and slow. He sucks on your lip, and slowly grinds his cock onto your belly, soft whines spilling from his tongue. He brushes his nose against yours as he sighs into your mouth, finally allowing himself the pleasure of paying attention to his cock. 

He doesn’t allow himself relief for long, however. He’s sitting up and looking from side to side for the lube before finally spotting it. His movements are quick and hectic, like he’s too excited and overly eager.

You rub your hands over his strong thighs. “Hey, slow down. You don’t have to rush. We have all night.”

He sighs at your touch, and nods softly. He whispers. “Yeah… okay. I love you.”

The little affection makes you swoon, absolutely smitten. “I love you.” You squeeze at his legs, tenderly.

He hums. “Gonna ride you now.” He opens the lube and continues with eager actions, almost like you didn’t even slow him down just a moment ago. You smile fondly to yourself. Jeongguk’s too busy slicking up your cock again to notice the mushy look.

He’s got a hand reaching behind him and he’s gripping your cock to line it up with his hole. He wiggles to get into the right position before slowly starting to sink down. His eyebrows are pinched, and his mouth falls open. But his eyes roll back when he bottoms out. His hands are braced on your stomach.

“Oh, I love it like this.” He whimpers. His legs tense at your sides, almost like he’s trying to close his legs at the pleasure he feels from your cock being tucked inside of him, hitting all the right places. He starts to grind on your cock, soft pleasured little mewls just tumbling off his tongue.

He looks so good, whining, grinding on you with his weeping cock displayed. But you wanna see him lose it on your cock. See him fall apart at how good it feels, not watch him bask in it.

“Bounce on it.” You say, voice sounding almost as fucked out as his. You know your panties are soaked through at this point, pussy pulsing and neglected, tucked away behind the strap.

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah, wanna.” 

He’s lifting himself off your cock to the tip before sliding down on it again, hard and fast. It punches a sharp gasp from his lungs. He finds a pace he likes and keeps it up, his thighs tensing, and his abs flexing as he tests his stamina, chasing that euphoric feeling he wants so so badly. He’s so strong and fit, bouncing up and down on your cock as loud unabashed moans fill the room. 

The force of him riding you makes your tits jiggle, bouncing around until they catch his attention. He groans before his hands find them, squeezing hard, using them as leverage as he pulls and drags his hips over yours. Your cock must be rubbing over his prostate because he’s losing his mind. All kinds of noises leave his mouth, and the expressions he makes are filthy.

“Fuck baby. You make me feel so good. The best- I-” He eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens in a silent moan, overwhelmed, before a guttural groan sounds from deep within his chest. “God. Wanna cum on your cock, baby. Fuck me-”

You laugh, wonderstruck, and kind of deliriously high on the satisfaction and fulfillment you get from seeing Jeongguk feel so just…. Good. “Yeah baby? You’re gonna cum for me? All over my cock?”

He whimpers and nods as he gets back to bouncing, a desperation to his movements that wasn’t there before. His cock is slapping against both of your stomachs with nasty wet noises due to his precum getting everywhere. You feel some fly and hit your neck, his cock just dripping, weeping and begging to cum. 

It won’t be long though, before he cums. You feel the way his thighs tense, and he gets that confused look on his face, and he’s got that puzzled pitch to his moans. It’s the way he always gets when he cums untouched, always in awe that he can do it himself, without a hand around his cock. His whole body is flushed and hot to the touch, sweat making him glow in the soft light of your bedroom lamp.

He throws his head back, neck extended, and veins bulging, before looking down at his bouncing cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He’s so whiny and noisy when he moans.

“Yeah?” You ask again, “Do it baby, show me how. You can do it, cum for me.” 

He’s nodding frantically, “Yeah- I’m gonna... Fuck, yes- Yeah, I’m-” He bounces a few more times, silent aside from the obscene squelching noises of your skin meeting, before his body tenses one last time before that string in him snaps. “Cumming-” He chokes it out. His moans don’t stop the whole time his cock shoots out his load, landing on your tummy. The moans even turn into cries, actual tears filling his eyes and falling down his cheeks. His body jerks and twitches with his orgasm. But still, he’s grinding on you, your cock still rubbing that spot inside of him, it’s like he never wants the feeling to end, even if it’s devastating, bordering on too much to handle.

You smooth your hands all over his sweaty body, before firmly placing them on his hips, stopping him. “Hey. You’re good, you did so good baby, you don’t have to keep going.”

Jeongguk’s cries are quiet, and he takes a few deep stuttering breaths to try and calm himself down, nodding with your soothing words. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, trying to dry them. It doesn’t help much, he’s calmed himself some but a few silent tears still make their way out, along with some soft hiccupping breaths.

“Lay down, and wait for me, hmm?” You whisper gently. He nods and lifts himself slowly, wincing at the sore ache in his hole. It’s more prevalent now that the pleasure has subsided. He all but collapses onto your pillow. 

“I’m gonna get some more water, and a towel okay?”

He grunts in response.

Before you go, you strip out of the gear, just tossing it on the ground, eager to get back to Jeongguk after getting the things you need.

When you get back, he is in the same exact position, and you laugh lightly. 

“Baby?” You ask, making sure he didn’t fall asleep.

Another grunt.

Good, he would hate you in the morning if you left him to sleep being so messy.

“Sit up, I have water and snacks and cleaning supplies.”

His head pops up. “Snacks?” His hair is sticking up on one side.

You laugh, endeared. He’s not crying anymore either, a good sign that he will be okay in just a little while after some kisses and love.

“Yeah, I got some of those seaweed chips you like, and some water.”

He sits up, leaning back on the pillows knowing the drill for after butt stuff. You hand him the water and the chips. He eats first.

“You hungry?” You ask, fitting yourself between his legs with the warm washcloth. He opens easily, munching away. You both are far past after sex shyness.

He talks with his mouth full. “Yeah. Jimin said not to eat the day off.”

You hum curiously, but don’t question it. Jimin partakes in butt stuff much more than you both. 

You’ve got all the lube cleaned off his thighs and cheeks, now all that’s left is his hole. You do it as gently as you can, knowing he’s sore just from how red and swollen and puffy it is.  But he still winces.

“How bad is it?” He mumbles.

You hesitate. “Um… You’re gonna be a little sore.” You tell him simply.

He groans, before downing his water. When he’s done, he says, “Practice is going to suck.”

You nod in agreement. It was. You wrap the used cloth in the blanket you used to protect your sheets, once again just tossing the bundle to the floor.

“Worth it though,” He smiles, pleased.

You chuckle as you find your place by him. He’s set his refreshments aside and lets you curl against him. His body sags with exhaustion when he feels your warmth press into him. You plant kisses on every inch of skin you can reach. He purrs.

“Why’d you keep going?” You ask, between smooches.

“I don’t know… it just felt so good. I guess I didn’t want it to stop.” He’s quiet, and his words are said on a sigh.

You nod, your kisses making your way to his lips. You just kiss him, slow and easy, for a few minutes until he yawns into it. He giggles.

“I’m so tired man.”

“I bet man.” You tease.

He kisses you one more time before asking, “Will you tickle my back until I fall asleep?” It’s hopeful and so sugary sweet.

“Yeah roll over.”

It’s barely a few minutes before you're met with his soft snores. You kiss his shoulder blade, before following right behind him.

~~~~

you ask for pegging and you shall receive :] i hope you liked it and that it met ur pegging standards askdkhjd as always, comments and feedback and asks and notes are loved and appreciated. thank you for reading friends ily :* 

[hotwings0203]

GOD I JUST READ UR BAKUGOU FIGHTER ONESHOT AND LAKSLAKSSKKAKAA

im in love, its soooo good😭😭😭😭 and i just wanted to ask, maybe if there is a possibility of u writing the second part w smut!👉🏼👈🏼 🥺

u r so talented!!! i love u💕💕💕

Wow fun fact: I actually love you anon

JUST FOR YOU, I SHALL INDULGE!!👆🏽

Pt.1

Tw:noncon, implied death

He was inside you.

He was grunting.

You were the mortar, he was the pestle.

“Fuck,” he pants inside your mouth. “You get turned on this much by watching dweebs like him get slaughtered out there?”

You sob and try futilely to once again lift his weight off of your pinned body, but he merely slaps your bouncing tits.

“Stay still. Don’t fucking move unless you want me to bruise your cervix. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little masochist? Isn’t that why you didn’t try as hard to push your boy toy out of the rink, huh? ‘Cause a slut like you gets off on watching a man like me show everyone whose boss?”

You cry out muffled against his palm after he gives a particularly rabid thrust, making sure to grind his tip against the sides of your gooey walls.

In a moment of savage triumph, Bakugo lets his slobbery tongue lather itself all over your cheeks. He tastes the tears that collect at the sides of your mouth, he tastes the sweat that gathers on your forehead and he swears it tastes like heaven itself.

He pulls back while continuing to pound you into the mattress, and he takes a good long look at you mere inches away from your face.

You’re a mess. Your eyes are rolling to the back of their sockets while your hair is strewn across the pillows, your hands pinned behind your back in an uncomfortable twist from his meaty hands.

He looks rabid almost. His eyes are everywhere, on your red eyes, on your bouncing tits, on the connection from his body to yours.

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ against his sweaty palm, consistently kept open from your moans and pained whimpers.

It’s true that he’s good with his dick, unfortunately all that talk wasn’t just for show. He had something to prove to you, and prove he did.

Or, is currently doing.

“Answer me, slut. Did you like watching me send your little boyfriend to the hospital?”

He uncovers your mouth and permits you to take a wild gasping breath. The rhythm of his hips cease as he waits for you to gather yourself momentarily, but he doesn’t pull out. You are just a pretty cockwarmer for him right now, no need to think that you deserve any more mercy than he’s already giving you.

“‘D-didnt like it. ‘Wanna go home, lemme go, get off of me,” you sob and weakly pull your wrists out of his hold to push him, but with a mean laugh he flips you over so that your face is smushed agains the pillows and your ass is in the air.

He yanks your hair back and you shriek at the feeling of strands being ripped from your head. He pulls you back up until his mouth is right next to your ear and your spine is lined up with his chest.

“No? You didn’t like it baby?” He hisses mockingly in your ear, and roughly fondles a bruised tit.

“I didn’t like it when you were licking lips with him in front of me either, but I guess we can’t all get what we want…well maybe you can’t. I’ll take whatever the fuck I want from you though.” And with that he lets go of your head and lets you unceremoniously fall back onto the downy covers.

Bakugo grabs your hips and pull your ass back until it’s flush against his dick. He rubs the wet tip up and down your ass, and traces it down your slit, letting it press in a little further when in contact with your entrance.

He doesn’t push it in though. No, he goes lower and lower until the member in his hand parts your lips open and it brushes against your clit.

When it does, your body shudders and jerks at the sensation of his tip swirling in your juices around the little nub and prodding at the sensitive flesh. He thrusts slowly and lets the sensation build at your throbbing clit before pulling back abruptly.

You fist the sheets and try to ignore the way your legs shake. It’s humiliating, you know you can’t even shift to your side lest he props you back face down ass up like a fucking animal.

And he was treating you like one, too.

He panted like a dog when he let your juices drool and collect around his girth, and he clawed and teethed on your neck and tits as if he were some kind of mutt.

It scared you how badly he wanted you.

You feel a soft tapping against your clit and you unconsciously arch your back and mewl when the area buzzes with need.

It almost physically hurts the winding coil in your stomach to hold your hips back from chasing Bakugo’s dick as he pulls away, the fucker knowing that you wanted more no matter how terrified you were of him.

“Aww, what’s wrong kitty? No more bitchy attitude and claws? Don’t worry, I’ll soothe your other kitty pretty soon,” he snorts at his own unfunny joke.

You don’t laugh. In fact, you tremble with indignation and horror when he begins pushing back into you as if it were the only place for his cock to be.

“Fucking shit,” he hisses in pleasure as he slowly sheaths his entire length around your dripping cavern. “Maybe I’ll bring in his broken body and set him up on the chair right there-“ he pushes your head to the side so you can see the armchair he points to. You don’t really care about the stupid chair though, not really when you can feel yourself stretch painfully and ingest every vein that scrapes against your insides.

“I’ll take his broken wrists and snap ‘em back to their normal state just so I can break them again when I cuff him down. I’ll make you look at him right in his pathetic eyes when I’m balls deep inside your slutty cunt.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he pulls out just to grab onto your hips and slam your ass against his groin again. He watches as your cheeks clap around his dick and spreads your gooey substance around his thighs and stomach.

“Baku-“

Smack

“Katsuki!”

“The fuck did I say about calling me by my name? You want me to bring him out of the morgue and light his body up too? Didnt realize you hated him that much, fuckin’ whore.”

All of a sudden you feel a heavy weight leaning forward and draping itself on your back, suffocating you with feeling filled everywhere. Your sweaty bodies mash, fluids mixing as he grabs your hair like reigns and slaps his hips against yours. The mattress shakes with the force of his thrusts and you swear you can feel him poking through your stomach when he suddenly lets out a loud groan.

He doesn’t give you any kind of indication that he’s cum, you only feel hot ropes of his seed shoot into your poor, wounded pussy. It stings with the mixture of blood that seeps out of you, the clash making an almost cute pink color coming out of your hole.

Bakugo unravels his hands from your hair and peels himself off of you, but when you try to shakily follow pursuit he leans an elbow into your spine, successfully making you squeal in pain and flop back onto the bed.

“Stay down. Teasing sluts like you don’t deserve to move off their natural habitat.” He sneers and uses a thumb to pull your asscheeks apart, inspecting his cum.

He whistles and lightly slaps one cheek, passing the view off as satisfactory.

“Please,” you rasp, opening one bleary eye to watch him pull a shirt on. “Please just tell me if you got him help.”

Katsuki smiles and lights a blunt. He takes a long drag and peers at your wrecked body.

“You didn’t hear what I said earlier?”

Your heart seizes and you slowly pull your head up from the pillow, eyes as wide as the moon.

“Who says he’s even alive?”

[iphoenixrising]

I did not expect people to want more of the thing *shrugs* 

Thank-you for the comments on my assholery with cliff hangers @txbookeater​, I love you too babe <3. So much love to electra-iphigenie, emjalen, ships-lover, and @chibinightowl​ for talking up that post. Based on this thing. Warning for triggering themes. Be aware of good boyfriending, kink negotiations, and mentions of past sexual assault. 

Proceed at your own risk 

He takes in a breath, blank for a second, his brain catching up. “Could it possibly be in the bathroom before I get in a nice, hot shower? Followed by a few hours of unconsciousness? That would be really amazing right about now.”

Deflection is an art form, and he really is a master.  He shrugs off his bag, gives him an opportunity to turn away, aware of eyes and how he’s dragging ass, feeling off and irritable. His brain doesn’t have to keep moving from one thing to the next, and things are slowing down. A shudder runs like cold fingers down his spine.

“I think I’d rather ya do it right here, Tim,” and there’s no Sweets, Baby, or any other endearments to make this easier on him. Nope. 

(It’s fine. Breathe. Just some bruises. They’ve seen worse, had worse. They’re all adults here.)

“Jay, I am tired–” “You’re looking shaky, a little strung out.” Dick, at least, makes it gentle. “And I saw it already, so we both know. I’d rather see the damage without your shirt in the way.” “Then, we’re gonna talk ‘bout why ya didn’t tell us right away.” “Mmhm, we might need to have another talk about the rules when we play.” “You’re blowing this out of proportion,” he argues gently, rubbing his hands and wrists because his fingers are tingling. “We had a play date, and by the time I was getting...you know, sore, I was already at work, you were on patrol–” “You didn’t say a word about it to me,” Dick cuts in, “and you absolutely should have. Now, I’m wondering if you really do know your limits, and if I can trust you enough to stop us when you need to.” “I...I didn’t–” yes. Yes I did.

It’s as simple as breathing in too sharply, his ears suddenly ringing, and there’s rubber in his mouth, his teeth probably cutting into it, and it hurts. Normally, he’s okay with rough and multiple rounds, loves how they get when they need control, to feel like there’s something in their hands that can’t just be taken away. 

He gets it. Loves that their go-to outlet for it...is him. 

Even if he can’t come again, it still usually feels amazing, and crazy in his brain because they want him this much. Really, he loves them. 

(The bell clenched in his fist is making an indent in his palm. His chest constricts, just like last time, but he can at least gasp through the holes in the gag. So he doesn’t need to drop it. He wants to. It hurts and he wants to, but he doesn’t. He can take it. He’s had worse. This is for them.) 

Neither of them noticed it had gone from amazing to uncomfortable to painful, and he didn’t drop the bell. He didn’t tell them to stop, so really, it’s on him isn’t it?

Bile rushes up his throat, bringing him back to the very real present where Dick and Jay are suddenly really close, and he realizes he’s just sitting in Dick’s lap, shaking like a leaf.

His face is wet, his chest hitching. 

He doesn’t puke, so that is about a million points.

But, he is absolutely falling the utter fuck apart and that just isn’t conducive to his attempt at coming home to snuggle and pass out in blissful unconsciousness.

(This is his life. Seriously.)

“Shit, shit, shit,” the first attempt to move is right out the window because he’s on octopus hold lockdown.

(On one hand it feels nice to be held. On the other, he can’t escape and it feels restrictive, stifling, terrifying.)

“Hey, hey, Baby. Lookey here. That’s it, that’s good.” Jay is rubbing palms up and down the top of his calves, up to his knees and down to his ankles. He’s talking low and gentle. “I’m going ta the kitchen, n’ getcha some water. Then, we’re gonna talk ‘bout what’s doing, you feel me? If me and Dickie are gonna be able ta take care a’ ya, then we gotta know what’s in yer head.”

He’s breathing too hard, too fast, his hearing spotty at best.

“Ssshhh. You’re having a panic attack, Timmy. You’re hyperventilating, so I need for you to calm down now, okay?” 

Then Dick’s chest is under his tingling fingers, and the exaggerated breathing helps him slow it down, take back some of the control over his body.

He doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out or puke, so the day is looking up. 

The absurdity of that thought it the thing that really makes him laugh, the sound hoarse, choked. 

“Okay, okay, you’re doing good, Timmy, just stay with me,” and he didn’t notice when Dick started rocking back-and-forth in a soothing motion, or when Jay got back and slid a hand around the nape of his neck.

He’s still shaky as fuck, curled up against Dick’s warmth, and fuck is he cold and wrung out. It feels like a high fever, joints achy, brain foggy, reaction time slow.

“...it’s a fucking drop, Dick. Look at ‘im!” “I’ve never heard of a delayed response like this.” “Knew we shoulda waiting ta scene. He went right from bed ta the pressure cooker, Dick.” “I should have picked up on it when I went to see him.” “S’all right, least we know what ta do now,” and Jay bends, pulls and lifts him like he isn’t a full grown man, pulling him in tight. “Need ta getcha all warm n’ snuggled, don’t we, Baby?”

Dick is throwing back the covers, but Tim doesn’t want to get in bed, not smelling like antiseptic and and bleach, but being warm, being able to hide his face in the pillow is really appealing.

He nods in Jay’s shoulder and lets just the scrub top be pulled off, leaving him in the nerd shirt underneath. He’s glad for it, already vulnerable, cold, shaky.

A straw to his mouth from no where and water before hands are helping him scoot over gingerly in the middle before flopping down on his good side with two warm vigilantes like bookends. Gentle circles on his back while Dick snakes an arm under his head, pulls him closer. 

“All right, that’s better.”

That hand hits a tender spot, and the flinch is automatic. “Sorry, Timmy. Once yer all warm, we’ll lookit how bad, yeah? Gonna lemme see, and it’s gonna be all right. S’ just me n’ Dickie.”

It’s awful because the two wrapped around him is fucking close to perfect and he isn’t feeling as shitty as he was at the ominous picture they made when he first walked in, and yeah, yeah, maybe it was stupid to try hiding it from them. He’s fuzzy about it, but he’s pretty sure that’s a rule somewhere in the Do’s and Don’ts for Playtime talk. 

He probably going to get a lecture. Possibly two.

“Sorry,” he finally says, voice stronger because his throat doesn’t feel like raw hamburger anymore. “I...that wasn’t supposed to happen. I don’t know why it was bad, but I’m s–”

“The only thing that would make me angry right now is if you apologize again,” Dick follows it up with scritches to take the sting out of it. “Something triggered you to have a severe drop, Timmy, and if you could tell us what happened, it would help us to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Can you understand that? We need to know so we don’t accidentally hurt you?”

He goes still and his chest hurts just a little.

“I...I should have safeworded out,” it hurts to say, “I sh-should have dropped it, but I thought I could take it, and then things got weird and my brain just, and I thought if I did it would be weak and-and you didn’t need that, and I-I just. I’m sore and it hurt and I didn’t– it’s my fault, okay. I should have because I know that’s a rule somewhere.”

and he keeps babbling on, rambling with his eyes getting hot and his vigilante boyfriends petting him, rocking with him, letting everything just pour out of him without stopping him or pulling away, just–

Dealing with his special brand of insanity. (Those darn abandonment issues. Golly, some day he won’t feel like his chest is being ripped open viciously with fear they’re going to walk the fuck out of his life and never come back.)

He’s finally talked out, feeling like ass about fucking up their morning.

“Your color is coming back, that’s good.” “Warmed all up, Dickie. Time ta tell it like it is.” Well. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah okay,” and he blinks up out of Dick’s chest with his eyes still puffy and his side tender, those blue eyes dark with something hard to interpret.

“I’m not happy you didn’t tell us immediately because we agreed to communicate about these things. D&S can be scarring, and this is just an example of how people get hurt.” 

“And I’m going to say this now so you understand how important it is. About the fact you didn’t safeword.” Dick’s chest expands, hitches, “You need to know, you’re not only protecting yourself when you do, but you’re protecting us, too.”

“I don’t–”

“Tim. I’ve been sexually assaulted several times, and you know that. So... knowing I hurt you that way makes me sick inside, okay. Can you– can you understand that?”

“I-I fuck, Dick, I’m–” “Please don’t say it. No more sorries. But, it’s important you understand Jay and I have our own traumas, so if you, not us, want to keep trying this, we have to navigate more carefully.”

Behind him, Jay’s forehead is nestled in the dip at the base of his neck, and a hard breath whistles down the back of his shirt. 

He despairs inside at how Dick and Jay must be feeling, how bad it looked to them that Tim hadn’t come clean, hadn’t safeworded at all. “I fucked up. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

Dick presses a gentle kiss in his hair, and Jay nuzzles against his throat. 

He gets more sips of water and eventually a panini and soup. There’s more cuddles and warmth, more talk that sucks the breath out of them all. 

His head wraps around the rules differently this time, taking careful note of the way Dick’s expression gets shuddered and Jay goes still. He assures them he still does want playtime sometimes, shoots down the notion he’s only doing it for them, tells them that when his brain is too full and he needs to give up control, he doesn’t want to do it with anyone else but them. 

He realizes it’s because somewhere, he knows they’ll take care of him...if he lets them.

Then his shirt comes off so the deep bruises can have Alfred’s magical concoction spread over. His cheeks are pink when he’s laid out on his stomach with the scrub pants tossed off the bed. Soft praise while he’s spread open by gentle hands to make sure he’s not torn. Bruised and sore yeah, but nothing too awful. He gets a pair of Dick’s cut-off sweatpants that still hit him below the knee and one of Jay’s shirts that he practically swims in, but he feels about a million times better just wearing their clothes.

And when they’re careful with him for the next few days, when love making is tender and slow, when touches are easy with his bruises in mind, when everything is verbal and consent is crucial, he make more of an effort to stomp down the urges to push his limits, push himself. He stomps down on those stupid recriminations and uncertainties, tries to remember that these two could be literally anywhere else in the world, and yet, here they are at his side.

He gets to have vigilantes bleeding on his fire escape, and the men under the mask in his bed, in his shower, in his kitchen, in his life. 

The next scene he yellows, gets a much needed pause before they continue, and the aftercare is truly a thing of beauty.

[crimsonbluemoon]

4 , 2 and 8 for the prompts and H2OVanoss :)

Okay this took way too long. >.

AU: MafiaTrope: Enemies to loversPrompt: “wait, wait. say that again. please.”

Pairing: H2O Vanoss

Warning: Slight gore/violence cause its mafia and shit. 

“Where the hell did they get this many guys?” Vanoss swore when he ducked behind another box, hearing wood bursting from the bullets that shot through the warehouse. His eyes scanned the area, checking on the status of his gang. Basically’s arm was bleeding through the bandage that Moo had wrapped around it, proving the wound was far worse than his right-hand man wanted to admit. 

“Bigger question; why aren’t they shooting at you?” Wildcat’s swear was louder than the fight, jumping up to pepper the other crew with bullets. Despite his aggressive attack, Vanoss knew the grim truth; they’d been ambushed. It was meant to be a simple deal, and Vanoss hadn’t thought the smaller gang was a threat. That’d been why he left most of his men back at the hideout; they were mid-investigating a mysterious gang that had recently showed up on the west side of the city. 

But apparently, from the grins of the west side gang now surrounding the warehouse, the smaller gang had chosen a side. And it wasn’t Vanoss’s. 

“I can’t get a signal out to the guys; they must have a jammer with them.” Marcel’s voice was strained, almost on the side of hopeless. 

“Shit!” This time it was pain that snapped in Wildcat’s shout, and red pooled from his side from the bullet’s contact. 

“What’s the plan, Vanoss?” Moo’s voice shook, and Vanoss gritted his teeth at his own stupidity. He didn’t have a plan. They weren’t going to get out of this alive at this rate. The set up was too simple, why hadn’t he picked up on the classic bait-and-switch-

“Need some help?” Vanoss jerked his head at the voice above him, eyes wide when seeing the crazy smile shining from the rafters. 

“Delirious?” A gun was twirled in the air before a whistle shot through the air, and the visual of men dropping from the rafters was breath-taking. The show caught the other gang off guard, leaving them helpless to the spray of bullets rained down on them. Cartoonz laughed while he dropped down with ease Vanoss knew wasn’t faked, aiming his shots into the lackey’s foreheads. Anyone who aimed their guns at Cartoonz dropped like flies in seconds. A shift on a higher beam and a flash of a grey blindfold proving their sniper, Ohmwrecker, was not letting Cartoonz get hurt. Overwhelming the troops from behind, Squirrel and Gorilla were trading witty barbs while they took on the grunts on the ground. Blood splashed over their clothes from the deadly assault. 

“Hey there, Owl-man.” And in the middle of the chaotic fray was their leader. Delirious was known for his crazy antics, and his ruthlessness was almost as crucial to his personality as his unpredictability. Delirious and his motley crew were on nobody’s side but their own, and the crazed clown could decide to attack any crew he felt deserved it over breakfast. Vanoss had been on the wrong side of Delirious’s switchblade a few times in earlier years, especially when Vanoss’s crew had first started in the east bay. Delirious always had tricks up his sleeve, tampering with guns or ruinings trades between rival gangs just to get under Vanoss’s skin. They’d even fought once, both of their gangs simply watching their leaders beat the shit out of each other. Vanoss still remembered the unusual rush of heat in his stomach at the bloody smile Delirious had worn after the scuffle. The feeling had lingered long after the sprained wrist and bruised ribs. 

Vanoss didn’t really know what Delirious thought of him. The anger and hatred from before was long gone. They didn’t fight every time they met anymore. In fact, Vanoss realized Delirious and his crew had started hanging around his own more, and the duo tended to warn the other when they planned to make a move of power or started a turf war with another gang. Once, Cartoonz had saved Terroriser from getting jumped, and Panda returned the favor after Squirrel stumbled into the wrong neighborhood without his piece. Neither tried to encroach on the other’s territory anymore, despite it sharing many lines in the city. When Delirious snuck into Vanoss’s office at night ‘out of boredom’ at his hangout, Evan didn’t worry about his life as much as he once did. Sure, he still didn’t know Delirious or any of his gang’s actual names. Evan also didn’t share his own, keeping a barrier between them. Still, he never felt the twitching need to grab the gun he had strapped on his thigh, no matter how close the two sat in the darkness of the night.

“What are you doing here?” Vanoss asked, Delirious scanning behind Vanoss before he aimed his gun at the fray of men trying to run away.

“Got a tip.” Three easy shots took out two of the men, while the final shot was shifted to blow out the final grunt’s knee. Looking gleeful at the explosion of blood, Delirious shucked the gun over his shoulder, the strap keeping it close to his back. Then his blue eyes bore back down at Vanoss, his laugh growing at Vanoss’s scowl. “Said a bird might have been set up.” 

“We were doing fine without-”

“Ohm, get out of your damn nest and bring the first aid kit. This kid’s hurt.” Cartoonz’s voice cut off Vanoss’s protest, the older gang member helping Brock move Marcel to a flat surface. 

“This one, too.” Gorilla had his hand over Tyler’s side, keeping pressure and an even keel voice. “But I think the brats are both gonna live.” 

“We’re not brats,” Basically grumbled, his hiss loud after Cartoonz smacked the side of his head.  “Ow, hey! What the hell?” 

“I think you were in diapers when I shot my first gun.” Vanoss watched Cartoonz and Basically started to bicker as Ohm rushed over with his kit, Brock’s face panicked while trying to stop the fight. He only let his attention linger for a moment before turning back to Delirious, who had already moved to the man he’d left bleeding out in the entrance of the warehouse. Surprised at how silent the other leader had been in his movements, Evan moved after him, wondering why he’d left the last man alive. 

“-so if you like that particular part of your body attached, you’ll tell me why they’re after Vanoss.” He caught the tail end of the playful threat from Delirious, the knife weaving in and out of his fingers in obvious meaning. 

“No-not trying to kill him!” Fear that Delirious had earned was filling the wounded grunt’s words. “Kill his people!”

“Who wants my guys dead? What do they gain from that? And why would they want to kill my people, but not me?” Vanoss asked, picking up on the avoidance of the man’s eyes. 

“Their plan…” The hesitation of the sentence made Delirious growl, kicking into the ribs of the man once with his steel boots.

“Spill your shit or your dick is mine!” Evan wanted to point out how stupid the comment sounded (was he trying to threaten or seduce?), but another hit finally parted the other’s lips.

“He wants Vanoss as his!” Gasping, it took a few shaky breaths for the man to continue. “Thinks if he…isolates him, kills his gang…he’ll own Vanoss, take him in. From some guy named Jonathan. ‘Own the Owl-man’ or something like that.” 

The twitch of Delirious’s shoulders and the long silence sent a chill down Vanoss’s spine.     

“Wait, wait. Say that again.” There was a murderous edge in Delirious’s eyes when he stepped onto the bleeding knee of the other man. His smile took a twisted darker edge hearing the man’s whimpers, then added pressure. “Please.”

“Delirious.” Vanoss didn’t know why the focus on his life made the other’s normally light-hearted nature fizzle out so fast, or why it squeezed around his heart. “He’s gonna go unconscious-”

“If you pass out, I’ll chop you up and feed you to your family. I’ll make sure they know every piece, every bite, is you. Tell me exactly what he said.” Gone was the goofy threats and half-fumbled words; here was the man that made even the strongest of gangsters quiver. People thought that Cartoonz really ran the gang, and that Delirious was simply too distracted or unsure to keep the strong men under his control. Vanoss once thought that, too; Cartoonz tended to snap at Delirious and give far more sass in the few interactions Vanoss had seen than he thought a right hand man should. 

But in these moments, the ones where only people Delirious trusted or weren’t long for this earth got to see, Delirious was death incarnate.   

“Said…said ‘I want Jonathan know I’m here. I wan to own his Owl-man’. He didn’t say who Jonathan was or-or what he had to do with Vanoss, but-that’s all, I swear.” Delirious watched the grunt squirm on the floor without emotion, his eyes unfocused with a haunted look that made Vanoss swallow. A heartbeat later, Delirious had his gun in his hand, no hesitation in his face when blowing the other’s brains out. One shot became two, and Evan stared helplessly as several more were launched into the twitching corpses’s mutilated face. Delirious’s gun ran out from how many times he shot, and even still he tried to shoot.  

“Delirious.” Softly, Vanoss moved forward, hand hesitant to curl over the hand that kept pulling the trigger. “You can stop. He’s dead.”  

“He’s not.” Somehow, Vanoss knew they weren’t talking about the same he. Once vacant, the blue of Delirious’s eyes blazed with overwhelming anger, eyes slowly turning to Evan. Rage was there, but deeper, Vanoss could see something possessive break the hostility. “But he will be.”

Unsure how to process the statement, Vanoss didn’t speak, watching Delirious shrug off his hold and stalked back into the warehouse. Slowly, Vanoss turned his eyes back down to the body bleeding out by his feet. He wasn’t sure who was after him, or why, but it seemed Delirious did. And he’d taken it personally, though Vanoss didn’t know why. 

But he planned to find out.

[americasmarauders]

Fancy Green Lantern-- Jason Todd.

notes: this is just something that plagued my mind for a while until i decided to write it. enjoy. 

masterlist

Dick jumped from one roof to another. The wind blew softly, ruffling his already messy dark hair. His batons tightly wrapped on his back, secure should the occasion of using them arrived.

           Blüdhaven was exceptionally quiet that night. Granted, it was no Gotham, but it still guaranteed local vigilante Nightwing some action. Dick had not seen one petty theft or any other attempts of criminal activities. It almost made him feel useless. Almost.

           Arriving at the edge of a building, he heard faint sounds of gun shots. He looked down, and saw three (he wasn’t sure, there may be more, and it was too dark to see properly) bodies sprawled out on the dirty floor of the alleyway. He searched for the perpetuator of such violence. He should have seen it coming.

           Dick jumped off the building and landed lightly on his tiptoes right next to the shooter. “Was Gotham getting too boring for you, Red Hood?” Dick asked.

           Red Hood turned around to face Nightwing. Unlike last time Dick had seen him, he wasn’t wearing his signature scarlet helmet. It was merely a muzzle and a domino mask. Dick liked this version better, it was more human, it gave less of the impression of a cold-blooded mercenary and more of a, well, cold-blooded human. “Fuck off, Golden Child, I didn’t do anything wrong,” Red Hood snapped.

           “Those bodies beg to differ, Jason,” Dick emphasized his name.

           Jason’s eyes narrowed, and even with the mask, Dick could tell that he had pissed him off, ever so slightly. “They are not dead. They just didn’t agree to give me the information I need,” he grunted in anger, furiously eyeing the unconscious but alive bodies on the alley.

           “So, you judged it would be okay to shoot them,” Dick concluded.

           “Yes, that much is obvious, isn’t it?” Jason retorted sarcastically. And then silence fell between them.

          Jason was cleaning his guns when Dick spoke again. “So, what information were you looking for?”

          “None of your business,” Jason put his guns back on its holsters and grabbed his grappling, planning on leaving nosy Dick Grayson and his never-ending questions.

          “It actually is now. You are in my city, shooting people on my alleyways. The moment you stepped foot on Blüdhaven it became my business,” Dick argued. And, damn, did Jason hate his logic. It was all Bruce, and he doubted that Dick could see it.

          “You see how pathetic that little speech was, right?” Jason scoffed. Dick eyed him sternly, like a mother trying to pry off information from her kid. “Fine. There is a gang, if you will, smuggling kids off the streets of Gotham and selling them as slaves. I am trying to dismantle them, but those idiots back there where the only lead I’ve had for months and now I’m back to square one,” he grunted angrily. Dick noticed that, with Jason, the conversations were usually filed with grunts and angry mumbles.

          Dick sighed, defeated. He could leave it be, leave Jason to fend off this mob on his own and save potentially thousands of kids from awful childhoods and most certainly awful adulthoods. But he simply wouldn’t leave him be. This was too important. And he knew Jason’s weakness was kids, especially street kids. “I’ll help,” he said.

          “I don’t need your help, Grayson, and I doubt there is much that you can do that I can’t,” Jason argued.

          “I’m not offering nor asking for permission, Jay. And strictly speaking, it won’t be me who will help you,” Dick explained.

          Jason, once again, narrowed his eyes at Dick, trying to study him. It intrigued him, and maybe he was needing more help than he wanted to believe. “Fine.”

#

Both vigilantes sneakily got in the small apartment through the window. It was a central building, right next to the University and Jason figured close enough to the precinct Dick worked for. Jason got in last, and Dick closed the window after it, pulling the curtains shut.

           Jason was left in the middle of what he guessed was the living room. There wasn’t much, a TV, a couch and a couple of armchairs, but it was enough to be considered cozy. The kitchen was right next to it, and Jason could see that Dick used it a lot, judging by the amount of plates that need to be washed. The dinner table had flowers as a central piece, and it was neatly arranged, a stark contrast from the sink only a few feet away from it.        

           “The flowers are not mine, they’re my roommate’s,” Dick mentioned, as he noticed Jason gawking at it.

           Roommate? Jason judged it weird. He never would have thought of Dick as a roommate type of person. He guessed he was more of a loner. Then again, judging by the amount of superhero groups Dick had been a part of, Jason may be wrong about that guess.

           “I’ll go get her,” Dick mentioned, ripping off his mask and heading towards Y/N’s room.

           Dick knocked lightly on the closed door and by the lack of response, he knew she was already sleeping. He pushed the door open and closed it with a soft thud. In the dark, he carefully made his way towards the end of her bed. He sat on the edge of it and softly laid his hand on her feet. “Hey,” he shook her slightly, “wake up, I need your help.”

           Y/N groaned, “What time is it?” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

           “Too late to be up, too early to wake up,” Dick said, a smirk creeping its way on his face.

           “Your favorite time of the day, then,” she retorted, getting up to a sitting position, and rubbing her eyes. “What is that you need?”

           “There is a gang kidnapping kids from the streets of Gotham and selling them as slaves, and I need you to find a lead,” Dick said.

           “Isn’t Babs better suited for the job? She lives in Gotham,” Y/N quizzed, her voice still sleepy. Dick knew she was trying to find a way out of this, but he knew she was the best person for the job.  

           “Honestly I didn’t even think to ask her,” Dick said to her. And he really hadn’t, because somehow, he knew she was perfect to deal with Jason. “Please, I’ll owe you one,” he pleaded.

           “And another debt to your endless list of favors,” she said, getting out of bed. “Someday, I’ll actually collect them,” she strided towards the door and opened it.

           “Thank you!” he exclaimed while she was getting out of her bedroom. She waved him off.

           Y/N rubbed her eyes while she made her way towards the kitchen. She reached for the kettle and opened it. At the sight of the pile of dirty dishes to wash, she cringed. She swore, Dick should be able to handle his responsibilities better and she couldn’t believe she would end up cleaning them again. She opened the tap and filled the kettle with water. After it was already on the stove, she turned around and leaned against the counter. She looked around the apartment and she was slightly surprised at the sight of a stranger, which she guessed was eyeing her curiously. She didn’t know, after all, she couldn’t see his eyes.  

           “Dick?” she called him. He scrambled out of his room, towel wrapped around his waist, ready for a shower. After 2 years of living with him, she didn’t even spare a glance at his physique, which intrigued Jason. “Why is there a stranger in a muzzle in our living room?”

           Dick’s shoulder’s relaxed. “Oh, this is…” he glanced at Jason, searching for a signal if it was okay to tell her his identity.

           Jason snapped out of the daze he was in, got up and extended his hand to her. “I’m Red Hood.”

           She shook his hand, narrowed her eyes at him. Dick knew that look. Her mind was already at work, trying to figure who he was. He bet by the end of the night she would already know. “Nice to meet you, Red Hood. I’m the person who’s going to help you,” Y/N said.

           “Great, let’s get to work then,” Jason dropped her hand, and smiled under his muzzle (was it really a muzzle?).

           “Sure, just let me get my computer,” she left towards her room. Jason eyed Dick, who had a smirk on his face. He knew something that Jason didn’t, and he didn’t like that feeling.

           She came back to the living room moments later, and dropped her computer, a notebook and pencils on the table. She moved the flowers away from the center of the table and spread her things on it. She pulled a chair and sat down in a funny way. She then looked back at Jason, “Well, sit down I can’t work without knowing where to look.”

           Jason promptly hurried towards the chair next to her. He sat down and tried to keep his cool façade. She blushed at the awkward silence between them. “Just say what is your problem and I’ll hack my way to a lead for you.”

           This woman was weird. No, she made Jason feel weird, that was a better description. “I’ve noticed some unusual things a couple of months when I was patrolling Crime Alley. Some street kids that I often check on were missing, and no one I, uh, talked to had information about them. So, I started to ask different questions and discovered this operation. Now, I’m here,” He finished, as she typed away. He was impressed that with very little information she was able to start hacking. Babs would need a little bit more out of him.

          The kettle started to whistle, and Jason was about to get up to turn it off, when he saw the stove button turn by itself. The kettle then started to float towards the cup with a tea bag in it, started to pour boiling water in then returned to the stove. The cup floated towards the table landing perfectly next to the girl’s hand.

          Jason had seen freakier things, but this was definitely one of the freakier. He then noticed the pile of dishes in the sink was significantly smaller, and one of those dishes was currently being washed down, but no one was there to wash it. He turned to the girl again, who was now having a sip of her tea and reading lines of codes on her computer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask, would you like a cup of tea?” she turned to him, her eyes twinkling.

          “No, thank you,” Jason started, “How did you that?”

          “That what?” she turned again to her computer, now analyzing security camera footage. She scribbled something on the notebook beside her, and Jason couldn’t decipher it even if he wanted.  

          “You know, the floating cup thing. The dishes washing themselves, all that,” Jason explained.

          She smiled, still looking at the computer. “The mind is a powerful thing, Jason. I just happen to be gifted with the knowledge of how to harness that power.”

          “How do you know my name?” Jason said, slightly scared, but he would never allow himself to show it. He breezed over the enigma she had presented to him. He would have to question Dick about it later.

          “Oh, once you know the identity of one Batfamily member, it’s easy to figure out the rest, so I just went by elimination,” she tapped away a little bit more. “You can take the mask and the muzzle off if you want. And the cups are on the second cupboard to the left, if you want tea now.”

          Jason was left speechless, and that didn’t happen often. This girl was…extraordinary. Dick soon waltzed into the room, towel hanging from his shoulder and wearing the most hideous pajamas Jason had ever seen. “So, everything good around here?”

          Jason got up from his chair and grunted to Dick, “A word,” while waking past him and entering what he assumed—and thank God it was—Dick’s room. The woman was unfazed by this interaction and continued to type her way.

          Dick entered his room once again and closed the door behind him. “What is it, Jason?” he had ripped off his mask and muzzle. They were already bothering him anyway and there no point keeping it on.

          “Who is she?” he growled.

          Dick was slightly taken back by this. “What do you mean ‘who is she’? She’s my roommate, Y/N.”

          “No, I mean, who is she?” Jason corrected.

          “Oh, oh,” realization dawning on Dick. He smirked. “She figured it out, didn’t she?”

          “She figured it out, didn’t she?” he mocked Dick. “Yes, she figured it out!”

          Dick tried not laugh, but he just couldn’t help it. “Why are you laughing, you dick?” Jason borderline yelled.

          “It’s because you don’t know her,” Dick said between laughs. “If you did, you’d know that there was no way that she wouldn’t figure it out, Jay. She’s too powerful to not.”

          “She is freaky that’s what!” Jason continued to freak out.

          “Says the guy who came back from the dead,” Dick argued. “Look, Jason, I know you’re freaked out because she figured it out and you didn’t want to. But I’ve been living with her for about two years, and when I say it was inevitable that she worked out who you are, I mean it,” Dick saw that Jason’s breathing had calmed. “Y/N is one of the most trustworthy people I know, and she will take this secret to the grave. I can vouch for her, and Babs can too.”

          “Babs knows her?” Jason questioned.

          “She’s one of Babs oldest friends,” Dick responded, knowing Jason had a somewhat of a soft spot for Barbara.

          Jason sighed and begrudgingly said “Fine. I have a question, though.”

          “Sure.”

          “She said something about the mind being powerful and some other bullshit I didn’t pay attention to, and what was that supposed to mean?”

          “I don’t know,” Dick said “She never told anyone about how her powers work or how she got them. We just know that she can do anything she wants to,”

          “So, what, is she some fancy Green Lantern?”

          “Not exactly.”

          There was a knock on the door. “Can I come in?” she said, muffled. Dick opened the door and reveled her, not in her pajamas anymore, but wearing black head to toe, and holding one of Dick’s old masks. Her hair was braided, and Jason tried to figure out how can she do that with so little time. “I found something, and you’re not going to like it.”

          Jason groaned in irritation. “What is it now?”

          “I dig up some security footage and those guys you fought tonight, they were a decoy,” she said, which earned her an angry groan from Jason. “Then I did some more digging and I found some conversation records. There is a bunch of kids being moved today from Gotham’s docs.”

          “When?” Jason said rubbing his face, trying to not blame himself for messing up and leaving Gotham that night. There was no way he would have known.

          “Half an hour from now,” she said.

          “Fuck,” Jason said lowly.

          “I’ll go put my suit on again,” Dick said making a motion towards his wardrobe.

          “No, you just got home. I’ll go with Jason. If we want to make in time you know I must take us there,” she argued. Dick knew she had won this one.

          “Take us there how, exactly?” Jason questioned, taking a step forward, his mask and muzzle in hand.

          “You know exactly how,” she smirked.

          Jason groaned yet again. Of all the turns he thought his night could have, he was not expecting being teleported from Blüdhaven to Gotham by a weird girl he had met, what, an hour ago. If only he had ignored Dick, things would have been much, much easier for him. No, this is for the kids, he thought. And he would do everything for the kids.

          “Let’s go then, weirdo,” Jason rushed her. She smiled and put on the mask she was gripping. It suited her more than suited Dick.

#

#

They positioned themselves above the ground, hidden for anyone from below them, but perfect to view everything from above. She was smiling, and Jason couldn’t help but glance sideways at her. The situation was grim, and she was smiling. She must have noticed that he was looking at her, because her smile faltered, and she mumbled an apology.

           “I’ve never done field work, I’m just excited,” she quietly explained. Jason turned his glance downwards and his eyes landed on group of 7 thugs all surrounding a specific container, that was about to be loaded to the ship currently docked at the port.

           “Be quiet,” he said. She followed his gaze towards the group of thugs and perked her ears up to listen in to their conversation.

           “They mention something about a mask,” she said to him. “I can’t distinguish there is too much noise coming from the container.”

           “Shit,” Jason grunted. “I’m gonna take those guys out, you take care of the kids,” he explained.

           “But they are heavily armed, you’ll need help,” she protested.

           “I can take care of myself,” he said. “I have a plan,” then disappeared from her sight.

           Y/N sighed. She would have liked to know the plan. But, for now, she should stick to what she was told to do. She started to move towards the container that held the children, wishing she wouldn’t be seen, and knowing for a fact she wouldn’t. The closer she got to the container, the louder the noise got. Screams and cries of help form children of all ages, but mostly very young, if she had to guess.

           She broke the lock of the container but willed the doors shut. Red Hood hadn’t dealt with all the thugs, yet, and the kids running rampant while armed men were fighting was not a good idea.

           She looked at him. He was struggling. She knew if she let him deal with on his own, giving him maybe a few more minutes, he could take all the armed men down. There were only a couple left anyway. But she was in a hurry, and the kids were more important than a display of power Red Hood was trying to do.

           She strode towards two men who had their back turned to her, stopping a few feet behind them. She willed herself to flicker just for Jason, just a heads up that she was near enough. She then smashed the armed men guns with her bare hands, twisted the barrels in a weird shape, making sure they couldn’t use it. Finally, she gracefully knocked them out, making herself appear again.

           “I told you to take care of the kids,” Jason said, knocking the last one of the thugs unconscious.

           “I did take care of the kids,” she said. “I told you would need help.”

           “I didn’t need it, I had everything under control,” he walked towards the container, her trailing behind him.

           “You didn’t. I helped, it was faster, and safer, might I add,” she said, as a matter-of-factly.

           He hummed, and she was not sure if it was in agreement or if he was just trying to move on from the subject. “Do you know what you are going to do with them?” she asked following him as he walked towards the open container.

           “Free them,” he said, grumpily.

           “Yes, I know,” she said, “but you can’t just let them back at the street. They might get captured again.”

           “They won’t,” he answered.

           “How’d you know?”

           “Because I have a plan,” he said, giving her the sensation of a déjà vu.

           “Tell me then, your plan.”

           Jason stopped at his tracks, shocked at her bluntness. “They are not going back to the street because I won’t let them. I have a place where they can stay, and we are going to take them there.”

           “And where exactly is this place?” she inquired again.

           “It’s just outside the city, don’t worry,” he said.

           “I’m not, I’m just wondering how we are going to take what 40 plus kids to ‘just outside the city’” she mumbled.

           “Well,” he said cheekily, “I promise I’ll help.”

           She sighed in resignation. ‘Do it for the kids,’ she thought. “Fine,” she said.

           “Don’t you need the address, or something?” Jason inquired, as she walked towards the bunch of scared kids.

           “Try ‘or something’,” she said. She then knelt in front of the kids, a warm smile on her face. She tried to convey safety to them, and Jason admired that. “You are safe now. We are going to give you somewhere to sleep and eat, but for that I’m going to need to take you in small groups, okay?” she said calmly.  The attentive faces of the kids soften a little and some nodded in agreement.

           “Great,” she smiled again. She got up and turned to Jason. “Is there someone in this place to take care of these kids, because I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave them alone in a strange place,” she argued.

           “Don’t worry, I have someone there right now,” he responded.

           “Are they competent?” she questioned.

           “Depends on your definition of competent,” he smirked underneath his half-mask, (yes, it was not a muzzle).

           “Oh God,” she sighed, exasperated. “I’m going to start to take them there.”

           “And I’ll tell them you are coming,” Jason said.

#

#

After that night, Jason could not believe, they had made progress. Actual progress and not that half-assed steps he had made before. And he could not believe also that the safe house he started was working perfectly. Admittedly, maybe recruiting only Roy to help him run it was a bad idea, but Y/N was helping tremendously too.

           The kids came and went. They couldn’t keep them there all the time, otherwise they would be just as bad as those they were trying to combat. The most of those 40 kids they had first rescued had gone, but some stayed to help around the safe house, and Jason was grateful for that, even though he would never admit it.

           Y/N had stayed too. She was everything and more, Jason realized. Just when he thought she couldn’t surprise him, she did something and swept him off his feet. He didn’t like that Y/N had some much control over him, but then he saw her, and everything changed in his mind. Roy would see that and tease him endlessly. No matter how many times he said that she was nothing more than an ally, Roy would give that look—that fucking look that made him blow his brains out of his head—and he would know that he was right. Jason would have to kill Dick for introducing her to him.

           The night was quiet. They were planning a stake out just outside what they believe would be the operations building of the trafficking scheme, so before that, there was nothing else left to do other than patrol the streets to make sure the kids were okay and not missing in the slightest. That left him so much time to think. He hated that.

           He was definitely not falling in love with her. That would be ridiculous. It would have to imply that he maybe thought she could love him back and he thought that maybe he couldn’t be loved. Could he? But Y/N was so amazing, she could surprise him. Like she always did.

           No, this was just his mind playing tricks on him. It’s all Roy’s fault really, if it wasn’t for his insinuations Jason wouldn’t be thinking about this at all. Or maybe he would be, and Roy just gave him a push towards the path he was in to speed it up a little bit.

           So, what if he was falling in love with her? What could possibly be bad about that? He wouldn’t be lonely anymore, that was a good thing. And he would have a great companion with him, because she was amazing. He would finally have someone to take to meet Alfred, after all the old man was subtly pressuring him to put himself out there and meet someone. It just so happens that he met someone in the same ‘work field’ as him. That wasn’t bad.

           Or it actually was, because if someone discovered his identity, they could kidnap her and torture her, or worse and that made Jason’s blood boil out of anger and fear. He could never put her through that. He had something to prevent it from happening, he could never, ever, be with her. That way Y/N was out of harm’s way.

           What was he thinking? She could t—

           “J, code black. Our location is compromised,” Y/N said in his comms.

           He took a millisecond to process her information. He immediately took a turn and headed towards their house. “Are the kids okay?”

           “Yes, they are all with me, but I can’t take much longer. There are too many of them, Roy won’t be able to hold them back for too long,” she said, panting a bit.

           “Please, hold on,” he begged.

           “I can’t,” she said, her voice cracking. “I’m going to take them somewhere else.”

           “Where? Please, hang on, Y/N,” he rushed her, nervously.

           “Ask Babs, she’ll know,” then her comms went static.

#

#

Babs knew. She knew more than Jason anticipated.

           He helped Roy take down the rest of the invaders. Then they took everything compromising from the house and headed to the address Babs had given him. To say it surprised him would be predictable because coming from her, of course it would.

           This place could rival B’s place in magnitude. It was huge and intimidating. If Jason himself hadn’t lived in some place similar he would have felt weirded out by it. But he was in no place to judge. Roy and Jason had stripped themselves of their gear already when then were confronted with the door of what appeared to be Y/N’s Manor.

           Jason barely knocked on the door when a stoic looking woman opened the doors and ushered them inside. He could hear the kids talking in the distance, but there were more pressing matters to be dealt with. “Y/N said to usher Roy to help the children and for Jason to find her. Now, which one of you is which?” the woman said sternly.

           “I’m Roy,” Roy said quickly, probably out of fear, or something.

           The lady hummed. “The kids are in the guests house. You just follow through the door and you’ll hear them,” she said with a bit of disdain in her voice. Roy ushered himself of the awkward and somewhat overwhelming situation Jason found himself in. Lucky bastard. “That must mean you are Jason,” she eyed him head to toe. “I can see what she meant.”

           “What did she mean?” he inquired following her as she started to walk up the huge staircase.

           “Nothing of your concern, I’m afraid,” she dismissed him. “Y/N is very ill after the stunt she pulled to help you I’m hoping you have an apology up your sleeve.”

           “Apology?” he said in shock “I’m sorry but she did what she did in her own accord. I didn’t force her to do anything.”

           “You must be really special,” the lady said. “Her room is the last one to the right. It took me quite some time to pry her off the children, so, if you will, please be quiet, she must be sleeping by now.”

           With that the lady abandoned him on top of the staircase, alone to muster up courage to face potentially the love of his life. (Potentially only, he hadn’t yet sorted all of his feelings).

           He walked towards the room. He hoped something would happen in the middle of the way, that Y/N would suddenly jump from her bed, find in the middle of the hallway and say ‘I’m okay now, you don’t need to say anything to me. We can go back to hunting these fuckers with no feelings involved’ but with every step he took he realized that nothing was going to happen. He would have to tell her something.

           He hesitated when he was faced with the door. Her name was written on it, in a pretty color. His hand hovered the doorknob. He would do this. He should do this. He owed that to himself and Y/N. He had to be honest to both of them. God, how he wanted to kill Grayson for complicating his life.

           Jason finally opened the door. The room was dark, and Y/N’s soft breathing echoed through it. She was peacefully asleep, covered by soft blankets, her all black outfit and mask sprawled out on the floor.

           He slowly closed the door, careful to be as stealthy as possible. He figured it could be slightly creepy that he was walking into a sleeping woman’s bedroom, unannounced. Jason shrugged the thought off and looked for a place where he could crash that was not her bed. He found a large and somehow soft armchair next to a gigantic bookcase littered with the most random books. It ranged from It to all Harry Potter books, passing through all of Shakespeare’s plays and all in between those. Jason’s heart swelled and he swore he fell in love with her a little bit more. If he had fallen in love with her that is. Which he had.

           He made himself comfortable at the armchair, resisting the need to pick one of the Shakespeare plays at his disposal to read until the sun rose in the horizon. Jason would have to wait until Y/N woke to talk to her. He took off his shoes and hugged his legs. Easily, against all odds, he fell asleep.

#

#

Jason woke up and noticed a very fluffy blanket on top of him. He stretched his arms and legs. The room was oddly quiet. No echoes of Y/N’s breathing, nor shuffling through bed sheets he had heard the night before.

           He took the blanket off him, and folded neatly, placing it on the chair he had slept on. Her bed was empty, and Jason’s heart tightened thinking that something had happened, and no one cared to wake him up. He looked around and noticed that the clothes that were on the floor were no longer there, but her mask was on top of her nightstand. Her bed was neatly made, almost looking like no one had slept in it.

           The door made a loud creaking noise, making him turn hastily so see it. Y/N was carrying a hot mug, oozing a delicious coffee smell and a plate with a freshly baked croissant on it. Jason’s heart stopped beating erratically at the bad thoughts that had once passed through his head and focused on her. She was there. She was alive. She had brought him food. She was out for his heart.

           “I thought you’d be hungry when you woke up, so I brought you some food,” she said, laying the mug and the plate on a coffee table near the armchair Jason had slept on.

           “Thank you,” he said picking up the mug. “Are you okay?”

           She smiled. “I’m better. But my head can’t seem to stop pounding.”

           Jason smiled at her lighthearted comment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there I—”

           “Jason, stop. Don’t give me that ‘It’s my fault’ bullshit, ‘cause it wasn’t. It could have happened to anyone, and I’m glad I was there to take the kids out,” she said.

           “Are the kids okay?” he was so worried about her that the thought of any of the kids getting hurt hadn’t come to haunt him. He trusted her so much that subconsciously, he knew she would never let that happen.

           “Physically, yes. Mentally, I don’t know, it was quite a shock to everyone,” she sat on the armchair.

           Silence fell between them. Jason quietly ate his breakfast as he contemplated whether he should tell her. He felt like a stupid teen, picking petals out of flowers wondering if she loves me, she loves me not. “I need to tell you something,” Jason blurted out.

           “Okay, then,” she reacted.

           “I—” he gulped. “I can’t seem to say it,” he whispered.

           “It’s okay you don’t have to,” she smiled.

           “No, I need to. It’s been killing me inside,” he said. “I can’t go on with this without being completely honest with you,” if only Roy could hear him now, he would laugh so hard. “I think, no, that’s not right.”

           “Jason, it’s okay. Start over,” she said softly.

           “I might have feelings for you,” he finally said it.

           “Might?”

           “I have feelings for you, and it has been eating me inside. Every time I look at you my heart goes crazy, and I used to feel so confused at it, but now I know why.”

           She was stunned and Jason regretted his decision immediately. “I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry, can you just ignore I said anything it would—”

           “Jay, stop, just stop talking,” she said. She took his hands out of his face and hold it tightly with hers. She smiled brightly at him, and there went his heart again, thinking it was funny to play heart attack with a guy like Jason. “I can’t pretend you didn’t say anything. Because I might have feelings for you too, and it might be eating me inside as well.”

           Jason smiled. “Really?”

           “Yes. Although, I can’t say my heart beats as wildly as yours does,” she said laughing softly.

           “Ah, I forgot you can hear it.”

           “Yeah,” she whispered.

           “How long have you known then?” he questioned. “That I like you,” he should have said love, but he didn’t want to freak Y/N out.

           She smirked. “I’ve had my suspicions for a while. Mostly because Roy kept making suggestive comments about it.”

           “Stupid fucking Roy,” he grunted under his breath, making her laugh deliciously.

           “Yeah,” she breathed out with a smile. Jason looked softly at her. “You know, I wouldn’t mid if you, somehow, happened to kiss me,” she said cheekily.

           “You cheeky bastard,” he laughed. He scooted over to her, stopping close enough so that he could at least rest his hands on her. “Can I kiss you?”

           She smiled brightly. “Well,” she said amused, “I don’t see why not.”

[pesewla]

If I may ask for more -since you got me screaming in joy as I read your last two drabbles- can you write a scenario where Tyki realises he is in love with Allen? And they make love for the first time?

ofcc this is highly saucy so viewers beware. i’ve always felt the truth would (canonically) come out when allen’s turning into nea... tyki is not pleased

“Nea,” Allen muttered feverishly, dull eyes fixated on Tyki’s approaching form. He took a wobbling step backward, a spare hand stretched out behind him like he was afraid of falling.

Tyki shook his head carefully. “…I’m not Nea,” he tried, forcing a note of humor into his voice. “Is the city smog getting to your head, boy?”

Allen’s face didn’t change, but his mouth pressed into a firm line. Tyki noticed that his Innocence, while activated, was covered with a dusting of thick white feathers. Allen took another step back, raising his arm as if in self-defense.

“Your mind looks different,” Allen accused. A cool wind blew past them, making a whistling sound as they passed through the city’s stone and mortar. “I won’t let you keep me here.”

“Hey, now,” Tyki said. This certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to find today; Tyki’d simply noticed the presence of the 14th when out hunting a wayward shard of Innocence. Tyki had followed his instinct against all better reason and had ultimately found the boy smoldering in the darkness, his Innocence blaring on one side and his Noah screaming on the other.

He took a quick step forward, faster than any human eye could follow. Tyki placed a hand on Allen’s forehead, and winced. It was boiling.

“You have a fever,” Tyki announced, glancing him up and down. The kid looked thin and destitute. “Jeez, can’t you manage on your own, boy?”

Allen took another step back. “Why are you even talking like Tyki?” he whispered, looking lost. Allen’s eyes were glued to Tyki, sure, but it was like he was staring straight through him and to the horizon. A look of horrified realization dawned on his face. “- Oh. You can see my thoughts, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean –“

“Nea. Nea,” Allen was saying. “I want to help you, but you can’t –“

Allen wobbled suddenly, his already-paled face draining of color. Tyki moved forward a second before it was too late and caught him before he could faceplant into the pavement.

“…Jeez,” Tyki sighed, glancing down at Allen’s slackened face. He lifted the boy up, trying valiantly not to stare too much at his delicate features; doing so felt like an invasion of privacy.

Tyki found the nearest inn and paid the keeper generously for a last-minute reservation, pretending like he didn’t notice the man’s accusatory glares back and forth between him and the unconscious boy. It wasn’t like that.

For the next six hours, he changed the washcloth on Allen’s hot forehead, paced around the gloomy suite, listened while Allen whimpered, and fought the growing sense of panic in his chest.

Tyki knew the panic was stupid. If anything, he should relish in the 14th’s transformation; finally, even if he were a traitor, their family would be fully reincarnated and reunited. If anything, Tyki should feel joy.

But he felt anything but that. A sinking feeling, too large for words, was slowly closing in on him. The more he watched Allen shudder and call out in his sleep, trying fruitlessly to push back on the consciousness looming over him, the sicker and angrier Tyki felt.

“Nea,” Allen groaned for the umpteenth time that night. Tyki fidgeted in his chair and stared out the window, trying to push down the feeling of doom. Suddenly, Allen’s skin darkened, even darker than Tyki’s own skin. He cried out, his back arching like a cat’s, and then relaxed.

“T – “ Allen whispered, sinking back into the pillows. “Tyki?”

Tyki stiffened, then got up from his chair. “Boy, are you up?” he asked, peering over Allen’s flayed-out form. But the boy’s eyes were still closed, and he was still breathing in and out rhythmically. That’s not good. Tyki hesitated, then reached out a hand to jostle his shoulder. “Boy. Allen. Allen. Allen, wake up.”

Allen’s eyes fluttered, and then slowly opened. Gold, cat-like eyes stared upward at Tyki, then narrowed. Tyki tried to keep his fists from clenching, opening his mouth to greet the newest Noah –

Allen coughed suddenly, and his eyes faded back to iridescent violet. “Tyki,” he said, and this time it felt like a statement of fact rather than a question. A flood of relief washed over Tyki, irrational as ever. Why? he asked himself again. He didn’t want to feel such relief. “What –“

“You nearly Turned,” Tyki said blasely. He tried lifting his arm from Allen’s shoulder, but Allen grabbed it, looking like a deer in headlights. So they stayed frozen in that spot for a beat more, Tyki staring at Allen with feigned apathy.

“I think Nea can read my thoughts,” Allen murmured, looking a little offended.

“And what makes you think that?” Tyki asked.

“He… acted like you,” Allen said through gritted teeth, averting his eyes from Tyki. Tyki smiled, painfully amused. “Don’t take that the wrong way, though.”

“Hm,” was all Tyki managed. He ran the statement through his mind several times, running a hand through his hair after he’d reached the same conclusion over and over again. “Well, damn. Is this what confirmation bias is?”

“Huh?” Allen said, blinking at Tyki.

“You’re going to turn into the 14th soon,” Tyki said, inhaling sharply. He pressed his fingers to his temples and laughed darkly. “But I want you, for some reason. Isn’t that irritating?”

“Huh?” Allen said again, voice an octave higher. He squirmed on the sickbed, which moments ago Tyki had assumed would be his metaphorical deathbed. “What – that’s not funny, Tyki.”

“I just spent six hours coming to terms with the fact that I’d never talk to you again,” Tyki scowled. “It was surprisingly horrible.”

“How kind,” Allen bit sarcastically.

“You want me, too,” Tyki declared, voice dripping confidence. “That’s why Nea pretended.”

“You’re full of yourself, you bastard,” Allen said, eyes flicking between the door and Tyki multiple times.

“I don’t hear a denial,” Tyki said, shrugging off his heavy overcoat. He leaned forward, gracefully lethal, pressing Allen even further into the bed.

“Well,” Allen said uncertainly, feeling Tyki’s weight shifting on top of him. “This isn’t right.”

“Tell me to stop,” Tyki muttered. “Right now, I’m really frustrated…”

Allen was silent, so Tyki leaned forward, narrowed eyes drinking in Allen’s face. He secured himself on top of Allen’s midriff, brushed a hand through his hair, and then pressed their lips together in a way that seemed angry. Allen stiffened defensively, so Tyki kneaded his lips until they opened, inserting a tongue between his teeth. Tyki kissed him like he was pouring emotion into the boy’s body, grinding his hips into Allen’s as he went. Finally, the boy’s form loosened, and he extended a hand to tangle his fingers into Tyki’s hair, while the Noah kissed him like it was what he had arduously earned.

“Why do you have to be the 14th?” Tyki growled, having pulled away for a second. Allen was staring at him with flushed cheeks and vulnerable eyes, and Tyki pushed him down harder, like that would inspire him to talk.

“I don’t know,” Allen whispered. He was looking at Tyki in the same way he’d looked at ‘Nea’ – like an apparition. Tyki fiddled with the buttons on his dress shirt, and pulled it off, critically examining the thick scars running across the ex-exorcist’s chest.

“How long?” Tyki snarled, tracing Allen’s scar with his fingernails. Allen shivered. “How long have you been wanting…” Tyki stopped the question there, removing his own shirt and then going to Allen’s pants. “I don’t want that bastard to be you. He makes - my Noah… shake with rage. And now there’s what, a day? Two? So, this is the only chance I’ll ever get.”

Allen was quiet, just staring at Tyki as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. “Tyki,” he whispered fervently as Tyki’s hands brushed over his underwear. “Are you –“

“Don’t ask me if you already know.” Tyki’s anger was beginning to fade, though.

“I…” Allen’s voice was raw. “When I’m with you, I feel like myself. But isn’t this too…”

“Far? Which part? Where you nearly ceased to exist?”

Allen shut his eyes. “You brought me back.”

Then they were both totally naked, Tyki climbing on top of Allen once again to kiss him with a manic sort of energy, like he alone could keep Allen grounded in this world. “Tyki…” Allen groaned as Tyki’s hands ghosted over the boy’s erection.

“Do you think about me?” Tyki wondered aloud, wrapping his hand around Allen’s dick. Allen’s hips bucked against Tyki’s chest. Allen whimpered affirmatively.

“I think about you. But I hoped it was because I wanted to kill you,” Tyki said, almost regretfully. He glanced up at the boy’s face. “It’s entertaining nonetheless.”

Tyki kept the boy pinned down and squirming while he ran his hands along the boy’s dick, Allen’s hips still grinding rhythmically against him. “Do you want to stop here?”

Allen shook his head, eyes full of some kind of light. “I – “ he moaned, as Tyki’s hand moved again. “Feel human again.”

“How ironic.” Tyki paused, struggling against his desires. Then, he brought both hands up to Allen’s chest, pushing down on him as he kissed the boy slowly. Tyki drew away, Allen’s eyes still closed, the boy still splayed out on the bed. He was startlingly beautiful, Tyki admitted. Tyki grabbed his overcoat and threw it over Allen’s vulnerable body.

Allen made a noise of surprise, and Tyki watched his mouth form the words – Wait. Don’t stop. Tyki took a moment to regret his decision, then looked away. “If you want to go further, don’t disappear,” Tyki sighed, fumbling around for his pants. “Don’t lose.”

[magpie-scribbles]

Gasoline (Rappa x OC Hoshi)

Chapter 1: Little Trouble

Rating: M (Whole story rated E)

Warnings: Drinking, stripping, violence, unsolicited attention

Word Count: 2.7k

Wowwie! It’s the first chapter of Rappa and Hoshi’s Origin!

Once again his scheduled fights had been a let down; squirming little pricks begging for their lives, for him to not beat them into a pulp. If they couldn’t dish it out or take it they should fuck off. The past few weeks had been like this…maybe the past few months, uppity little shits trying to show off their quirks and their power. Doesn’t do you much good when you’re gargling on your own blood and begging your opponent for mercy. His knuckles didn’t even hurt after that last fight, and they had dragged the guy outta the ring, cause he couldn’t even stand up after the beating he took. 

It wasn’t much of a rush when your opponents sucked…So after a lousy couple of fights and a less than ideal payout, he sticks to his usual routine.

He’s pretty certain the door’s on it last legs as he shoves it open; maybe because of him, but it wasn’t like he was the only restless and riled up person that came to this seedy little club. Hell he probably wasn’t the shadiest or the rudest either; though he had started a few fights here, some had been better than his matches. 

The bouncer that does jack shit, nods at him in greeting; guy probably didn’t get paid enough to take care of half the riffraff that dragged their troubles here. Most the time Rappa just watched as he hauled piss drunk sobs out, or waited until a fight ended with someone unconscious; the loser getting kicked to the curb. The only time he had ever really seen the man do anything was when someone got too handsy with the dancers or threatened one of the bartenders. 

It wasn’t like Rappa was complaining, this place was a little slice of heaven in it’s own rough way. Besides the beer was cheap and wasn’t too watered down; and it was nice to see some ass and tits after a night of beating the snot out of people. 

A drink girl passes him on his way to a seat and he orders a pitcher, she looked  him up and down for a moment as if trying to decide if she should give him one to himself before walking off agreeably. There was no way one pitcher was going to put him on his ass, especially since he downed a few burgers and nearly a whole bag of fries before he got here.

He doesn’t have a usual spot, he’s not the kind of guy that would waste time marking his territory in a place like this, where ever has a decent view is good enough for him. 

He should be grossed out by the tackiness of the chair or the grittiness of the floor as the legs scrape as he pulls it back, but hell if he was; slumping into the seat and propping up his feet on the table, completely relaxed and content.

One girl is working the stage, circling the pole with practiced ease, almost looking bored, another was giving another very overzealous patron a lap-dance. A light tap on his shoulder and he turns his head; drink tray, with a very full pitcher angled towards him. The pitcher almost looks like a normal sized mug of beer in his hand, the drink girl doesn’t even wait for him to respond, just walks off; at least she didn’t tell him to get his feet off the table.

Taking a swig he watched the show on the small poorly lit stage; he wonders if others could see it, the raw energy below the barely there clothing as the woman worked the pole. True he was a man and thought with his dick but he could also appreciate the power behind it, if anything the power was just as sexy. 

As he nurses his drink bickering piqued his interest and another patron was trying haggling the price of a lap-dance from one of the other dancers and he snorted when she pressed her foot too harshly against his nuts; daring him to try further bargaining.The man quickly paid up; too bad he was hoping for a scrap; Rappa doubted the squirrelly little businessman could have taken her.

He drains the rest of his drink, not even a buzz running through his system yet, he stared down at the foam at the bottom of the pitcher wondering if they watered it down, usually he at least felt a little relaxed. He looked around for the drink girl; the place had gotten busier, he gazes at the flickering clock on the wall they still hadn’t fixed the stupid thing. 9:12pm…at least he thought it was a 2 on the end. The business men were crawling out of their holes or away from their boring family lives, general riff raff and scum, looking for a place to get smashed. And Rappa could only hope this meant some action, this place usually saw some good tumbles after 9 and fuck where was the drink girl?

Growling he knew his seat was going to be taken if he got up to go to the bar, but maybe that meant someone would fight him for it and if that didn’t get his blood pumping. Hauling himself up and rolling his shoulders, he didn’t bother pushing his seat in. 

The place is already crowded enough that he needs to physically push his way to the bar, not that it’s hard, but he just wants a fucking drink. One guy is loudly boasting, standing right in his path and paying no attention to the behemoth seeking to get passed him. So Rappa does what he always does and lays a large hand on the mans back and shoves. There’s a scramble and some concerned gasps as the man is catapulted over a nearby table, but no one dares reprimand the beast that shoved him, especially not after they saw his sheer size.

Finally he wades through the sea of other patrons to the bar, the music is getting louder and he’s glad to at least find a seat at the bar, even if the backless chair looks comically small under him. He slams the pitcher on the counter, loud enough that it could be heard over the sound of the environment. 

“What’s a guy have to do to get a fuckin’ drink around here?” he rumbles. 

It’s almost too quick for his eyes to catch but then there’s a small head of pink hair popping up from behind the bar. Bright eyes staring him down. He had never seen her here before.

“It’s called waiting your turn!”  she quips, grabbing one of the drafts and pulling into a regular sized pint.

For a moment he wonders why she’s still kneeling and then he realizes she’s just a tiny little thing…and she’s telling him off. He’s caught off guard for a moment, most people are intimidated by him immediately but she’s…oh, well now she’s ignoring him. 

Slinging the drink down the bar towards another patron, another calls out their order and she rolls her eyes. She turns to face him, still nonplussed by his size.

“Ok, what’cha want big guy?”

He grins and goes to say something when he hears a wolf whistle.

“Look at you, you little thing!” 

She’s already bristling as she looks over her shoulder for the offender.

“Surprised they don’t have workin’ the pole up there; well why don’t you come over and sit on daddy’s lap and work somethin’ else.”

Rappa looks over, a skeevy man with slick back hair is eyeing her up and patting his thigh.

The little pink haired bartender looks back over to him, and fuck if she was directing that feral smile at him he might be a bit cautious about bite behind those teeth.

“Excuse me for a moment.” she says sweetly and bats her eyes.

She moves achingly slow towards the cat-caller, swaying her hips side to side, and, well he’d be lying to say he wasn’t watching the curve of her pretty little ass as she sauntered. 

Casually she leans on the counter, back curved enticingly and chest out as she gazes at the sleazebag that had been talking to her. Slowly she reaches out and grabs his tie, fingers gently pulling on the material. He lets himself be pulled.

“Well look at you, what a good little girl.” he growls at her, or tries to.

Rappa is very curious at this point, wondering if she’d just go with the flow and get some extra cash from the guy by taking him out back but then…

“You don’t look like a daddy.” she tilts her head, and if Rappa had a drink at the moment he’d be doing a spit take because she’s full on sucker punching the guy square in the face. The only thing keeping the man from falling backwards out of his seat her iron grip on his tie. And then she tugs him back, slamming his head into the counter before finally releasing him.

The man whines pitifully hands coming up, getting ready to catch any blood, when he finally decides to sit up.

“And ya sure don’t sound like a daddy.” she huffs, rubbing her knuckles on the back of a drink cloth. The guy is still refusing to look up at her, but he whimpers when she leans down, hand going under the bar, reaching for something Rappa can’t see. “And I ain’t a good girl.” the hand below the bar, pops up and she’s placing one of those little overly sweet, dyed cherries on his head.

She stands back up and smiles.

“That one’s on the house!” she says in a sing song voice. 

She practically skips back over to him, mood seemingly unsoured.

“Now, let’s try this again.” she leaned her elbows on the counter in front of him and rests her chin on steepled fingers. “What can I get for ya big guy.”

The smile she gives him is genuine and he can’t help but smile back and release a bellowing laugh, nudging the empty pitcher towards her.

“A refill.” he settles on his forearms, now that the commotion has settled, or at least it appeared so for now. The little bartender picks up the pitcher; where it looked comically small in his hands, it looks comically big in hers.

“You drink all this yourself?” she looks into the bottom like it might hold a clue. “Wowwza! You can pack it!” 

She seems almost excited about that, and he can’t help but find her more and more amusing. He eyes down the bar, the man she had punched is still nursing his wound, bloodied napkin pressed to his nose. Rappa sneers when the man caught his eye. 

“Whatcha havin’?” she grabs his attention as she moves over to the drafts.

“Triple IPA.” 

Immediately she recoils, wrinkling her nose and sticking out her tongue.

“That stuff’s so bitter!” still she turning to pull more of the deep amber liquid into the pitcher.

“It’s gotta good alcohol content.” he replies smartly.

“So do Martini’s and Pimm’s!” she shoots back.

“I ain’t drinkin’ pussy drinks.” he drums his figures against the bar, maybe that would get a rise out of her, he was interested to see more of her reactions.

“I Ani’T DrinKIn’ PuSsy DrINks.” she mocks, slamming the pitcher back down on the counter dangerously close to one of his hands, some of the beer sloshing over the side and onto his fingers. “At least they don’t taste like piss.”

He grabs the refill and takes a long swig, watching as she pops and few cherries into her mouth…and a few green olives…

“And how would you know what piss tastes like?” he arches his eyebrows after as satisfying swallow and foul smirk pulls at his lips. He wonders if she’ll punch him.

She observes the lemon wedge in her hand for a moment before biting into it.

“And why would I tell you? Maybe it’s a dirty secret.” she says around the wedge as she continues to suck on the sour fruit.

He nearly spits out his next gulp of beer. 

“Sakuretsu!” someone calls from behind him, and he watches as the drink girl pushes her way through the crowd, looking rather annoyed. “Stop. eating. all. the. GARNISH!”

The small bartender, no, Sakuretsu sags dramatically and throws the lemon away. That’s a mouth full of a name for something so small. She starts removing empty glasses from the other woman’s tray and putting new ones on. 

“So, Sakuretsu-” he begins when the drink girl walks off with her orders.

“Ugh, no.” she whines and he cocks his head. “Hoshi, my name is Hoshi.” she says something else under her breath but he can’t make it out. 

“Well, Hoshi, you won’t tell me why ya know what piss tastes like, will ya tell me why I haven’t see ya here before?” he’s already halfway done with his pitcher and he’s finally starting to feel the buzzing through his body.

“I got some friends, pulled some strings.” she’s not shy in her answer and he has a feeling her friends probably aren’t good people. “Guess you can’t exactly go around nicking people’s wallets for all your chump change. So a real bonafide job is the way ta’ go, it’s a lot less fun though.” so she was a little pickpocket.

“Awfully honest.” he rumbles leaning closer. She works fast, seemingly already good at the job she had just gotten.

“No point in lyin’, it’s beatin’ around the bush! ‘Sides you don’t seem like the type to be an undercover boy.” she waves him off almost boredly, and then suddenly she’s in front of him smiling. “I bet’cha you’re one of them underground fighters!” 

He can smell the citrus from the lemon she had been eating, and fuck she’s a cute little thing; with the alcohol thrumming through him he can definitely feel his dick twitch.

“And you’d be right.” he rumbles, leaning a little closer wondering if he’d scare her off.  

“You probably knock the snot outta them!” she says excitedly, fuck the fact that she seems into it definitely has him even more interested.

He has to pull away to to clear his head, which he completely ruins by finishing off the rest of his beer; dammnit and he needs another, especially if this little bartender was going to keep toying with him, he wonders if she even knows what she’s doing. Pushing the pitcher back he taps plastic with a blunt nail, his eyes hooded, the lopsided smirk pulling at his lips dangerously close to something he might wear in the bedroom. She doesn’t seem to notice his primal look.

“Wow, you’re a fuckin’ BEAST!” she grabs the pitcher in awe. He’d definitely like to hear those words again.

She turns to fill it up again and he takes the chance to dig the heel of his hand roughly against his dick. Fuck… true he’s gotten hard from the girls here before but that was the strippers; maybe getting another drink wasn’t a smart idea, but Rappa wasn’t a smart man.

She gives him the refill but it’s hard to pay attention to beer because she’s crooking her pretty painted finger at him and he leans in. She glances around quickly before pulling a card out of her top. 

“Took that sleazebag’s card.” she looks very happy with herself. “And!” she flicks it. “I’ll pay off your tab with it if ya get me into watch one of the fights for free.”  

He still had enough brain power to consider her deal. True the entry fees went to pay the fighters, but his prize money was going directly into the pitcher in front of him. It honestly wasn’t much of a decision at this point with a good portion of his blood running straight to his dick rather than his brain and the rest singing with alcohol.

“Deal.” 

“Yes! bloodbath! “ she pumps her fist and grins at him. “This is gonna be fun!”     

[unik0rnu]

Page 11, Exposure

-Good ol’ wild west, our next target, Boss. And judging by the map we are halfway through, dayum, i’m fucking impressed how much we did. Gage let out a long whistle while eyeballing her pipboy map, approaching together the next target, Dry Rock Gulch. The rocks around were massive and the scenery was very convincing into bringing some dusty cowboy memories. Even weather was fitting their excursion. 

*plop* Lucy was working her jaw on a pre-war gum drops, making Gage nerve vein show up on his face each time she blew a balloon. -Looking how they…*plop* could create pretty much anything, no wonder Nuka World is so tempting as a base *plop*. He took a chance while Lucy mouth was running and gave her pat on a back strong enough that the gum flew out of her mouth. 

- Khyy, what the hell Gage? She coughed repeatedly and shook a fist in his face. 

-You know it’s annoying as fuck and ruining your teeth with all that shit it still has, consider it me taking care of your sweet mouth and my calming therapy. He grinned and turned his head towards the park entrance. 

-----

The wind was pushing small clumps of dry grass around and nothing could be heard from inside the park other than rolling paper cups. At the gate they were welcomed by the warning sign “Danger, Bloodworms!”. Lucy stood behind the raider and eyeballed a sign. -Bloodworms… She froze in place and the blood slowly drained down from the face making her fairly pale, despite the warm rays that were hitting them. Gage was relaxed, even slightly happy. 

- Ha, just some stupid worms? That’s it? Nice change for once, ain’t it Boss? Hm? Gage turned around back to her after not receiving a single response. She was standing, looking at sign and then back at him spinning the knife in the shaking hands. - You okay Boss? Don’t ya tell me you are scared of some crawling dicks? He put a hand on her shoulder and shook it a bit to get at least a word out her. - Boss?

- I…i…just got hit by the sun too much and blacked out for….a second. Uhm…ye worms, let’s go. You first since you are so….eager to stomp them. She lied through her teeth and took a deep breath as they started moving. Going right behind, nervously scanning area around, she pulled out silently a dose of calmex in a hope of injecting just a little bit more but as Gage stopped abruptly walking into his back, she dropped it on the sandy ground and kicked it aside hiding her failed attempt.

-Shit, you sure you are okay? You act freaking weird since we entered. Raider turned around his head just enough to show his angry brow expression and moved back on. Lucy let out a silent sigh seeing her syringe getting lost in a sand as they walked away. 

The robot silhouette showed up behind a corner greeting them with a very stiff cowboy act “yiihaah-doggies-of-the-wild-west”. - Now, that’s interesting…there will be nice spare parts once i’m done kicking the shit out of you, sheriff. Raider cracked his fist preparing to give machine a solid hit through the glass but Lucy pulled his hand away. 

-Just wait a moment goddamit, information first, smash after, right? He hmphed but backed away lighting a cigarette, letting her do the all the wire work. Few sparks in the back and there it was, every information they needed served on a table. 

Sadly as the robot recording was going on about the worms and possible nest the her face was turning more and more into fear expression. Before Gage had a chance continue on his disturbed action as he strolled around with his smoke Lucy was already out of control kicking the robot down and swearing uncontrollably. The sound of metal smashing and thumping reached the ground under, waking up everything lying beneath their feet. They were coming and they were hungry. 

----

- Well, good fucking job Boss…He threw the smoke aside and stuffed a fresh magazine into the rifle. Lucy was feeling the nerves crawl upon her legs and clenching its boney fingers in her throat. She was shaky as fuck trying to defend herself from parasites jumping out of the sand but with each one joining them she was losing this battle, mostly with her mind. Gage noticed her unusual moves, lack of confidence, something was indeed off but there was no time to talk. One of the worms managed to reach under her metal armor with its round jaws filled with hundred needles, biting into her shoulder blade in the back. She dropped to her knees, a fearful scream leaving her mouth just pushed her right hand man to shove more bullets into the crawling filth of this park. As he fended off the last of them he ran right to her, pulled the worm out of her back, ripping some of skin in the process. 

-Argh! That was so slow and gentle ugh. She groaned.

-Fuck, what the hell was that? What the fuck is wrong with you?! He was angry, demanded answers but she couldn’t speak, panting heavily, as she looked up and saw the familiar shadow, standing in front of her. Same one, over and over again, shaping into the man that was giving her orders 200 years ago.

 -“So weak, Feit. I’m disappointed”. He kicked her in the face, sending into unconscious state.  

Now Gage was not just angry but also worried. He noticed some unusual curly smoky shapes slowly fading in the air but assumed they were just radiation doings.  He threw her over the shoulder and carried to nearest shack sighting deeply.  They went through so much already, much worse, be it gators or glowing mirelurks but he still felt like she was hiding something or refusing to open up all of her secrets. 

---

A spiky sensation in the wound woke her up. It took more than one stimpack to make the blood start clotting with this one. Gage threw the empty syringe to the side and awaited in silence for her to stand up. He was calm but certainly not in the cheerful mood. 

- I…think, i need to tell you something more about… She started but the big palm of his hand grabbed her by the throat and pushed to the wall, cutting her sentence. 

- You think?! I fucking thought we trust each other at this point and that includes no motherfucking shit behind the back. He released her shortly, seeing her eyes widening in fear, not wanting to cause any more pain by pushing her to the wall but he didn’t back off. - And what the fuck is that? Dozens of calmex? Are you a fucking addict of sort and missed it at our lovely introduction last time? He pulled a bunch of syringes from the pocket that he stumbled upon while patching her up and put them aside on the broken table. Lucy was ashamed and sad, it was coming to her at one point, deciding it wouldn’t be such a big deal not to tell him about her phobia since bloodworms were pretty rare occurrence. Not this time tho.

 - Okay, fine! I use calmex very often. Got addicted to it even before the war, helps me to calm down, focus on many matters and when phobia kicks in. I’m sorry but i felt like its not that important and would just make me look i dunno… weak, Christ. She slipped down the wall slowly down landing on her ass and hiding her face with a hand. She wasn’t sure if to tell him about the shadow that haunts her as it would sound completely ridiculous to the simple man like Gage.  

- You looked pretty weak back there trying to hide it. Boss, while beating eaten slowly alive. I ain’t like too some shiet out there, fuckin bugs for instance, you should have told me something. He pulled a chair and sat in front of her leaning a bit forward. 

- It ain’t like that Gage, it’s paralyzing me, bringing those flashes from back when….the court decided to teach me a lesson. He popped open a bottle of nuka cola and handed it to her. Whatever sugar it has left will help her to boost up some energy. 

- Go on Boss…nothin to be ashamed off, get it out.  Seeing his surprising willingness to listen she continued after taking a sip. 

- I thought i was doing something good, wanted to deliver justice at every corner. It didn’t matter to me that the man i was defending had a crime past. He found out the court was corrupted, cops too, making up their own evidences and shit. He got pulled up there and i did what felt right, defended him. The judge…didn’t like it…i ended up in a dirty cellar, pulled out of my office and tortured. Gage crouched by her side and put the hand on her shoulder. 

- You don’t have to continue if its too much, Boss. He slowly raised her head with his fingers to look at her. She swallowed hardly yet another sip of cola.

- They said i needed my righteous bitchy mouth cleaned and they brought them….leeches, fucking hell, the disgust and pain… even if time went ahead two hundred years, for me it still feels so recent. Lucy left out a deep sad sight and looked raider in the eye. 

 - After that my..boss found out that calmex would calm me and dull the unnecessary memories and feelings during my jobs, making me more efficient and..i got addicted, pretty badly. Sorry i didn’t tell you, it just felt…stupid to share something like this. She pulled herself up, worried about his response but started putting her gear together, herself too. He stopped her by putting the hands on her hips and turning her around to face him.

- Hey we are in this together, our plan, fight, hell even fears included i don’t care what crap else, we are partners Boss. If u have a problem, we will fucking solve it, okay? I’m sorry for what happened to you, i truly am, fuck, but just…stop hiding shit from me, no matter how dumb it might feel for ya. Alright? They nodded at each other as an agreement and to her surprise Gage handed her back all the calmex syringes. - You will still need them here, that ain’t something u solve in one evening Boss but…we will get to that okay? Now let’s exterminate that shithole.

They came back, dirty from dust and blood, with a few bites too to the Fizztop but again successful, in the favor of Operators. As the drugs cleared out of Lucy blood system she rushed to the bathroom, ignoring the Gage’s yelling behind, pushing the door after her but still leaving an open crack. She had a strong urge to just take off her armor and clothes and scratch everything down with water from her. To her luck there was already one filled bucket under the sink. She undressed to her underwear and without hesitation grabbed a handle and threw it all over herself throwing the empty bucket aside. Gage heard all those noises and curiously peeked through the door small opening. She looked so desperate, rushing and harshly rubbing hands against her skin. Even the black dust around her eyes looked more dramatic than ever, smeared downwards and to the sides. He respected the boss privacy more than ever but this time it was just an act of care, reason, maybe something more that made him cross the line of the door. 

-Hey, its over. Just, shit,  try to calm down Boss. She stopped and looked at him, a bit embarrassed but slightly angry of being disrupted like that in the state she was. 

- I am calming down, right now, can’t ya fucking see?! She groaned but realized shortly he deserved a better response -Shit…sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at ya, you helped me get through back there but…i would like to be alone now. She sighted, grabbed her dumped clothes from the floor and slowly walked past him but his lower arm grabbing her around the waist stopped her. The pile of clothes flew from her hands down as he turned her around and pulled towards him.  

- No…that ain’t an option, not before i get to see that face back to its usual shape. He said with a low voice, almost growling, putting his other hand under her cheek, brushing his fingers through her wet hair.

- What the fuck are y--  He leaned to kiss her before she could ask anything more or worse, punch him in the face. Lucy decided to leave those two options for another occasion as her mind drifted off from the anger and stress, surprised by the raider move but fully committed to these few seconds.

- Shit. As Gage pulled off he expected at least a slap but her hands instead landed around his neck. His confidence allowed him only to stand still, looking down at her as he wasn’t really a man of many words, especially in these kind of situations.

- I didn’t expect you have it in you. She bit her lower lip. -You can go on, if you feel like. She raised her eyebrow at him letting a slight smirk twitch on her face. 

- Fuck..i do feel like, Boss. He grabbed her by the ass and pushed up. She allowed it, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him for another kiss, deeper and longer that round. Gage pushed her against the wall for better balance. 

They kept it for a while but raider didn’t cross the next line yet, didn’t want too and neither respect would allow him this time. He lowered her back as she pulled off. - You look better, Boss, especially with that blush of your face. He joked, trying to relax the atmosphere after, mostly for himself. 

- Thanks to you, i guess. She brushed her cheek and smiled, turning her head away.

They stood for a moment but Lucy decided to not ask any more questions, keeping these incidents as unprofessional as they can get and as much as he wanted to. Felt easier that way, not knowing what next day might bring.  

- You up for a small drink at patio before hitting the bed? She asked while gathering her clothes, scattered around the floor. 

- Actually, why the hell not, Boss. Business talk this time tho. He grinned and followed her to the patio. 

  The rest of the evening they indeed, drank and talked, sharing some more of their past and joking around. She felt good around him, safe even, slowly letting the thought of trust slip in and let her guard down at last. She drank down her last glass of booze before hitting him with last question. 

- Hey, can i sleep with you here, from now on? I still dislike open spaces like that but maybe with you around it will feel better. Gage paused, holding the glass at his lips putting it down slowly. 

- Do you mean fu...? 

- No, no. Just sleeping Gage, jezz. I will keep hands to myself too unless you feel like breaking some rules. She chuckled covering her smirk with a hand. 

- You better keep these hands away from my smokes. He joked back. - Okay, Boss, if you want to, i won’t kick you away, not on purpose at least.        

  It been hell of a time since they both slept with someone, sharing a pair of mattresses. Gage let her fall asleep first before he took down his eyepatch, wrapping it around his hand and turning his back to her. Lucy still kept her knife under the pillow but not for him this round.   

[dontcallmecookie]

some titans dick whump??

Sand and Poison

Part 1 of the Dick Grayson Must Die series

Summary: In which a favor for the League goes horribly wrong and Dick and Rachel suffer the consequences. 

Warnings: Whump, canon-typical violence.

~~

Dick collapsed against the door, pounding on it. Kori rushed forward and swung it open. The room exploded in wind and sand as Dick shoved Rachel inside first, stumbling after her. Gar hurried to escort Rachel to a cot as Dick and Kory slammed the door shut behind them. The girl was hot and sweating and covered in sand, coughing loudly. Dick tripped inside and Kori guided him to collapse on a cot by the door. He landed on his stomach, hacking loudly with hair covering his eyes, sand streaking his face.

"Jesus," Kory gasped, eyeing the knife embedded deeply into the back of his thigh. "Stay put. I-I'll go get the kit." She scurried off, leaving Dick quaking and coughing roughly. The sand blew against the walls, pounding like a pressure washer. It was only a matter of time before their impromptu abode fell. They just hoped it was after the storm passed.

"Rache-" Dick rasped, the girl coughing loudly in response. Gar looked up from stroking her back.

"She's good. Well, better?" he guessed, eyeing Dick nervously.

Dick nodded, eyes rolling back. He pressed his face into the stale mattress, wheezing as the fabric wiped the sweat from his brow. It was hot, so hot. Everything was blurred with heat distortions, poison racing through their already overheated systems.

"I'm back," Kory announced, dropping the first aid kit next to him. He cracked an eye open, looking back at her.

"N...knife..."

"I see it. Gar." The boy plowed his way over, ready to help. "Hold it still," she instructed, tilting her head in the direction of the weapon. "Dick, we need to take your pants off."

He closed his eyes tight against the world because of course they did. Kory moved to his waist and he grunted, swallowing and rolling over to his hip. Gar hovered above the blade handle, ready to keep him from accidentally rolling onto it. Kory grabbed his belt and slipped it off, long fingers making quick work of his buckle. Even to the sun woman, his skin was scalding hot.

"Hips," she commanded and a deep cough scratched its way through his throat in protest. Rachel hacked again and the room turned to her in worry. Kory recovered first. "Hips," she repeated sternly. Dick held a breath captive and grunted, managing to lift his hips enough to slip the pants down. Even that meager inch was enough to have him collapsing into the hard mattress, sweat pouring from him as his brain melted with fever and poison. He turned away to avoid coughing on them, Kory guiding him back to his stomach.

Rache made a wheezing sound and Dick waved at her, mumbling at Gar to go check. The boy got confirmation from Kory before stepping around her and rushing to Rachel's side. She was burning up, hair and skin caked in dirt and sand.

"Gar..." she muttered throatily, hand finding the boy's arm. She squeezed and he wiped sweaty curls from her face. The pillow beneath her was already darkened with sweat, her face flushed with splotches of fever and sunburn.

"I'm here," he squeaked out. "What do you need?"

Her eyes closed tightly and she gaped at the air around a word she couldn't say.

"Antidote," Dick supplied.

Gar looked back at him, nodding. "Antidote, on it. Water?"

She nodded vigorously. Dick shook his head, eyes pressed shut against the spinning world. "N-no."

Rachel moaned in protest, more coughs dragging their way through her. Tiny puddles of red formed at the corners of her mouth and Gar tried very hard to pretend those had always been there.

"No water," Dick repeated. Gar swallowed nervously but nodded, understanding.

Dick watched him rush off to get the syringes. Another round of coughing shook him, and he convulsed weakly. His head fell forward, cheek planting against the metal bed frame. It was so hot, even the metal burned. To him, though, it felt like bliss. Eyes slipped closed unconsciously, reveling in the relief.

"Stay awake," Kory demanded, seeing the life drain from him with the fever and poison and sunstroke and whatever else was going on inside his body. She had a scalpel, tearing at the leg of his pants around the knife. The cold steel touched his skin and he flinched as it burned against him. "Sorry," she apologized quickly. She wrapped a palm around the small blade, warming it.

Gar came back with a syringe, offering it to Dick. The former Robin shook his head, blinking lazily, and waved sloppily to Rachel. Her first. Gar understood and sat at the girl's side, finding her arm. The needle went in easily in his skilled hands and immediately she started to relax as the drug took effect. Stupid lab. Stupid trigger happy bad guys with their toxins and sprays and deadly chemicals. Gar set the needle aside and checked her pulse. It was strong and steady, but she was still wracked with fever. He sighed, deflating as her clear eyes fluttered closed.

"She's good," he informed Dick, who sighed tiredly. Then Kory's long fingers ever so delicately touched the handle of the blade in his leg and a scream whistled out through his clenched teeth.

"This has to be removed," she sighed because no one was about to enjoy this. "Gar, come hold it." The boy rounded to Dick's feet and hovered.

"What're you going to do?" he frowned as she repositioned herself by Dick's shoulders.

"Hold him down."

"Shit."

She squatted to force herself into Dick's untrustworthy field of view. "We're going to take it out," she said and he managed to focus on her long enough to nod, hacking softly. A string of goopy blood swung from his mouth. Worried, she wiped it away with her thumb and spared a moment to slip her hand under his bangs, making a face at how hot he was. Even to her, it felt like he was on fire.

"What's the normal human body temperature?" she wondered absently.

Gar shrugged. "Uh, about 98.6?"

"...run low..." Dick added quietly.

Kory nodded, shoving his hair aside and checking again. "He's way too hot."

"How much?"

"Can't tell for sure. Feels like 104?"

"Shit..." Gar gasped, eyes growing wide in concern. "That's, like, dangerously hot. Like he should be in a hospital before his brain starts leaking out of his ears hot."

She swallowed, only slightly relieved to know what they were up against. Sizing down the opponent was the first step of defeating them. Still, she needed to center herself and focus on one thing at a time. His fever was deeply troubling, and a major factor of it was the poison he (and Rachel) had in their systems. They could cure it with Bruce's antidote, but not until the knife was removed. Once the medicine was administered, it was crucial that the subject (her friend) remain as undisturbed as possible. "Okay. Dick, we're going to take the knife out."

Getting the nod from her, Gar raised his hands, gripping the handle carefully but tightly.

Dick's eyes rolled up to her, wide as pale moons. "''t's cu'ved...!" he slurred.

"What?" Kory asked, leaning close.

"'t's n't straight..."

"Gar, wait!" she yelled, but Gar heard his name and yanked, tearing through an inch of skin before the resistance forced the blade to a halt.

Dick screamed quietly, curling into the mattress. His hands gripped the bedframe hard enough to shake the entire structure.

Instantly Gar knew something was wrong and dropped the knife, hands raised. It shook and settled, stealing Dick's breathe.

"Dick! Dick, breathe," Kory instructed, hand squeezing his shoulder tight enough to bruise. He staggered, clamping down on his lip as the pain surged through him. "Breathe," she demanded again and he let out a shuddering breath, every muscle tense. She looked up to Gar, a disapprovingly glare surrounding her green eyes.

The boy shrunk away, shocked and ashamed. "I, I didn't hear..."

"S'okay," Dick gasped, shaking his head minutely. "Jus'... be careful..."

"Okay..." The boy swallowed thickly, fingers curling around the blade again. "It's curved... apparently. Good to know.

"Up..." Dick wheezed.

The chuckle that came out of the boy was borderline hysteric. "Oh, so it's curved up. Right. Of course it is."

Kori was watching him, her gaze reassuring in its steadiness. She gave him the signal and he leaned the handle forward, guiding the blade out of the wound. The tip caught on some flesh inside and he was forced to give it a harsh yank to get it out the rest of the way.

The group took a collective sigh once it was free. Dick deflated like a balloon, wheezing and coughing weakly.

"Almost done, Dick," Kory warned and he rolled his head in the mattress, too far gone to nod properly. "Gar, get another needle."

"On it." The knife clattered from his shaking hands and Dick flinched nearly to the other side of the room. Kory was on him immediately, calming him back down. A moment later, a syringe was shoved toward her and she scooted to the side, giving Gar access to Dick's arm. She stroked the former Robin's face, taking in his flushed cheeks and fluttering eyelids as the antidote was administered. He wheezed, her palm catching one last weak cough.

Gar moved away and she looked up. "Is it done?"

"Yeah," he replied quietly, eyes downcast. "He should start feeling better any minute now."

She turned to Dick to check, who was nodding sloppily. "Gar..." he croaked, the boy kneeling by his head. Dick's arm twitched and Gar took the hand, holding it firmly. "You... you did well..." And with that he was out, going so still the Titans almost panicked thinking they had killed him.

Gar sniffed, swiping a hand across his face. He blinked and looked away, chewing on his lips. Kory chuckled lovingly at him, rubbing his back. "He's proud of you," she said. "Here, you go check on Rachel."

"No! No, his leg, it still needs to be-"

"I can wrap it."

He shook his head at her. "It needs to be cleaned and stitched. I can do it. I know how."

Smiling fondly, she motioned forward. "Alright, then. Go ahead."

The boy stood quickly, snatching what he needed from the first aid kit. Kory sighed, checking Dick's temperature again. "How do we lower this?"

"His temp?"

"Yeah. It's still too hot."

"Normally, acetaminophen would cut it. But I don't know how it will react to the antidote in his system."

She quirked an eyebrow. "So what do we do abnormally?"

"Cold compress?" he shrugged, threading the stitching needle.

She chewed his lips, looking down at Dick scoldingly. "In the middle of a sandstorm. Right."

"Well, I would say Rachel could help but..."

She sighed, inspecting their makeshift safehouse for anything that could be helpful as Gar set the needle aside and got to work cleaning the wound. "How is it?" she asked, jutting her chin that direction.

"Gnarly. And not in the good way," he replied tightly, squinting as he inspected the damage. "He definitely shouldn't have walked all the way here."

"Right. You wake him up and tell him that."

"Hell no."

[studpuffin]

For SMUTMAS, can I request Bichie with an exhibitionist kink??? Please and thank you, my beautiful Sho 💕💕💕

I’ve never been to a sex club but I’m doing my best 

Richie is practically shaking with excitement as Bill takes his arm, guiding him into the club. Bill always looks good, but tonight Richie has to stop himself from drooling when he looks at him. His dark jeans and his soft gray t-shirt show off his body in just the right ways that has Richie tingling all over.

He’s so glad they’re going to a sex club.

Bill looks at him out of the corner of his eye and grins, “Excited?”

Richie nods, kissing his neck, “I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” he lets Bill guide them over to a couch near the side of a small stage. There’s already a couple up there. They’re kissing. Two men, maybe a little older than them. Bill puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him closer.

“Do you wanna go up now?”

Richie shakes his head, “Wanna watch for a minute first. Gotta warm up a little,” he grins,” Wanna put on a good show right?”

Bill grins and kisses him. It’s not a slow kiss at all. Bill goes right in for it, tongue tracing over Richie’s lower lip. Richie moans low in his chest and kisses back putting his legs over Bill’s lap, breath hitching as Bill’s hand curls around his thigh. His thumb strokes the inseam of his jeans, so close but still so far away from where Richie wants him to touch.

Richie pulls away to kiss his neck and makes eye contact with one of the guys on stage and a thrill rolls through his stomach. The guy is getting blown by his partner and he’s staring dead at Richie sucking on Bill’s neck.

Richie, ever the performer, figures why not give a really good show. He pulls back and looks down at Bill, “Kiss my neck.”

“What?” he looks at Richie curiously.

“Just do it,” he kisses him softly and then nods toward the stage, “We have an audience…”

Bill glances at the guy and then smirks, “So you wanna show off…” he purrs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Richie’s pale throat, “Went them to see how good you are for me?”

Richie moans, letting his head fall back, “Fuck yes. Want you to show me off…You always tell me I look good doing it.”  

“You do look good,” Bill cups the bulge in his jeans, “Feel good too,” he purrs against his neck as Richie arches into the hand that’s massaging him through his pants.

Richie’s eyes flick back to the two guys on stage. The shorter one whispers to the other and they both look at Richie and Bill. Richie winks at him and tangles his fingers in Bill’s short red hair, keeping him attached to his neck. Bill digs his teeth into his skin and Richie groans, “Trying to mark me up Big Bill?”

“Mmm. So everyone who looks at you knows you’re mine,” he presses his lips to his ear and Richie shivers.

“Let’s give ‘em a show then handsome,” he slips off his lap and holds out a hand for him and Bill’s eyes sparkle with anticipation. He takes Richie’s hands and pulls him up onto the low platform. The crowd whistles and Richie practically glows under the attention. Bill comes around behind him and hooks his chin on his shoulder, lips pressed to his ear again.

“You like when they look at you,” his fingers creep up Richie’s shirt and expose his stomach which clenches under his soft touch, “You always needed to be the center of attention.”

Richie snorts, “Says you. You always were the center of attention,” he turns in Bill’s arms and they’re kissing again. Now they’re showing off, Richie sucking his lower lip, moaning as Bill squeezes his ass. They both sink onto the neon purple couch, Richie straddling his lap. Their hips rock together and Richie sits back to pull his shirt off and Bill dips his hands under the waistband of his jeans and underwear, squeezing his ass. Richie’s thighs tighten around his hips and they grind together. Richie pulls back and tugs at Bill’s shirt, his blue eyes wide, shining with lust, “Take it off…”

Bill fixes him with a searing hot gaze and then strips off his shirt. Richie’s eyes travel down his broad chest and his hands follow, nails leaving faint pink lines in their wake. Once his hands hit the button he undoes them and drops to his knees. Bill runs a hand through his dark curls and groans as Richie noses at his crotch. Bill tucks his waistband under his dick and balls and Richie doesn’t waste another second. He swallows Bill all the way down to the base gagging as he swallows. His eyes close and he feels Bill slump back against the suede cushion, his fingers pulling Richie’s hair in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head. His moan comes out muffled and raw. Almost unconsciously he starts to rut against Bill’s leg. He’s so lost in the feeling of Bill’s dick in his mouth he only barely hears the crowd anymore but when he does it makes his hair on the back of his neck stand up and his dick gets even harder in his jeans.

His hand comes up to stroke his Bill’s balls. He pulls back and drops his mouth to them, licking and sucking. He wants to taste his cum so badly and when he looks, Bill is staring down at him. He still has a death grip on his hair and his pupils are so big that you almost can’t see the green in them anymore, “What else do you want Rich? Wanna show them how good you take my cock?” He has that strong commanding look in his eye. The one that makes Richie’s knees weak and his heart rate speed up to a dangerous level.  

He nods and Bill pulls him to his feet. He takes him by the chin and kisses him, wet and hot, as he undoes his pants and pulls them down below his ass. Richie turns and kneels on the couch, and throws a look over his shoulder at Bill and catches a glance at the crowd. A few couples are making out but most of them are watching him and that warm light-headed feeling washes over him again as he sinks into the couch. Bill leans in and kisses him, “Still good?”

Richie nods,” This is perfect. Come on Big Bill,” he arches his back, dropping his head onto his arms, “Gimme something to write home about.”

Bill snorts in amusement and leans in to lick Richie’s exposed hole, “I seriously doubt Mags wants to hear about me eating your ass at a sex club.”

Richie giggles and breaks off with a moan as Bill starts to eat him out with such vigor he almost falls over the back of the couch, “Jesus Christ Billy warn a guy,” it comes out thick in his throat and needy. He feels Bill smirk and drag his tongue over his skin. He bites down on the meat of his hand to muffle his sob and Bill reaches up to pull his hands away.

“Let them hear you,” his voice is soft but commanding. It leaves no room for argument and when Bill dives back in Richie outright sobs. He turns his head to look out at the growing crowd in front of the stage. Bill’s fingers dig into his ass as he sucks the sensitive hole. Richie pushes back against him and his eyes flutter closed. He’s already painfully hard and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Bill fuck me,” he finally manages to get the words out without his voice shaking too terribly. Bill’s hand settles on his shoulders and flips him onto his back, fishing lube and a condom out of his pocket. Sneakers, jeans, and underwear come off in quick succession, and Richie drops onto his back, legs falling open as Bill pops the cap on the lube and easily slips two fingers into him. He’s already fairly relaxed from being eaten out and he makes a content sound deep in his chest.

“Fuck Richie you’re so sexy. You’re doing so well for me, taking my fingers so well. Showing everyone how much you like getting fucked,” Bill says, lips pressed to his inner thigh as he presses his fingers deeper into him. His dives back in, licking over his hole, moaning enthusiastically, if not a little muffled.

Richie’s head lolls back and his glasses start to slip off. He grabs them, slipping them off and putting them on the table next to the couch and the world goes blurry. He lets his eyes close and Bill adds a third finger. Richie can’t see him but he can tell that he’s got that glint of concentration in his eyes by the way he’s pressing his fingers down on his prostate, “Bill,” he reaches down to grab his hair and pulls him up into a kiss, “Shut up and fuck me.”

Bill sits forward and kisses him, “Impatient.”

Richie grins against his lips, “Slowpoke.”

Bill smirks and kisses him deeper, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back onto the couch  feeling for the condom as they make out, “Roll over,” he whispers, “I want them to see you,” he kisses him again, and then pulls back with a smirk and “I want you to watch them see you.”

Richie groans, “Oh fuck…” he rolls onto his hands and knees looking out into the crowd as Bill lines up and pushes in. He moans, bracing himself on his forearms as his fingers tremble, “Fuck yeah Big Bill.”

He feels Bill grab his hips, moving in steady, well-placed thrusts. He leans in, kissing Richie’s shoulders and back, “Look at you looking so beautiful baby,” he rests one hand between Richie’s shoulders as his chest drops to the couch cushion, “Fuck yeah just like that,” he snaps his hips forward, grinding against Richie’s prostate.

He’s pretty sure he blacks out for a second as Bill grinds into him. Even if he was wearing his glasses he’s pretty sure his vision would have gone fuzzy. Someone in the crowd whistles again and he feels a dopey, fucked out, blissful expression creeps across his face. Richie arches his back and rocks his hips against Bill as he gets pounded into next week. He’s getting close to coming. He reaches back to grab Bill’s wrist, giving him a quick squeeze of encouragement and he Bill squeezes back as if to say ‘go ahead, Richie.’

Richie sobs in relief as he comes against his stomach and he slumps down on the couch. He feels Bill’s hips stutter and come in the condom and Richie starts to giggle as they both sit up and kiss. Richie pulls on his boxers and takes a little bow, a stupid grin on his face as Bill throws an arm around him and pulls him off the side. They both dress quickly and run out into the dark parking lot.

“I can’t believe we just did that. Holy shit what a rush,” Richie cackles, “Holy shit that was amazing,” he flings his arms around Bill’s neck and kisses him hard, “Shit I love you.”

Bill kisses back and grins, “I love you too Tozier,” he backs him up against the car and kisses him again.

Richie grins, “Thanks for doing that for me.”

Bill squeezes his hand affectionately, “Believe me,” he grins, “Pleasure is all mine.”

[autumnhobbit]

this seems like the perfectly rational time to post an absolutely horrible thing i wrote in response to an absolutely horrible concept @lurkinglurkerwholurks introduced to me. take two guesses what it’s about, judging by my usual fare.

Bruce found the warehouse too late and too early.

The entire search was hell, from the realization that Jason was gone, to finding his note, to tracking his location, to realizing the Joker was out and had activity in the area, to finding the truth about Jason’s mother, to frantically flying as fast as his plane could take him to the desert, to being forced to land two hours drive from the village. All the while, he was trying to reach Jason, to warn him. Jason hadn’t answered once. Bruce would have been willing to chalk it up to spite, to distrust, to Jason’s emotional state. Which Bruce hadn’t noticed, hadn’t realized the scope of, hadn’t fixed until it was too late.

But once, as he was halfway there, Jason picked up.

“Jason!?” Bruce couldn’t stifle the desperation in the way his son’s name escaped him. He shouldn’t be doing this...this was Robin’s line, he shouldn’t call him Jason, but he couldn’t, he can’t bring himself to protocol.

No answer. Bruce listened, breathing hard, foot jamming the pedal to the floor.

A rattling echoed fuzzily across the line, and a mad, gleeful cackle followed instantly after it. Bruce’s blood froze in his veins.

“Jason! Jason, talk to me, please—“

A gulp that sounded wet. A scuffle, and then a crack! The line disconnected.

Bruce felt as if there were no air left in the car. His heart hammered against his ribs so hard he wondered if there was any spaces between beats. If there ever would be again. He had Jason. Joker had Jason.

Joker knew he loved Jason. He’d known that for God knows how long, but now he had Jason, and Bruce wasn’t there. He couldn’t protect him.

Bruce wanted the car to go faster. He couldn’t make it go any faster. The temp gauge was already far beyond what it should be. Bruce couldn’t think about it overheating. About it stopping, not working. About Jason, alone with the Joker. Jason, who sounded bad. He sounded like he was drowning. They were in the desert. He highly doubted Joker decided to douse him with water to give him a little cold.

Bruce tore the cowl off. He couldn’t breathe in it. He scraped his gauntleted hand across his face, smeared the uncontrollable wetness from his eyes all over himself.

God. He can’t. He couldn’t do this. Jason sounded like his mom, when he watched her blood froth from her mouth, even while it pooled on the front of her dress. When he’d heard her like that, she hadn’t lasted three minutes. Maybe not even two. She gasped and she gasped and she choked and she stopped.

The car leapt off a dune and crashed down into the dip below it. Bruce’s face was rammed into the steering wheel by the inertia, and blood joined the snot and tears coating his face and the chestplate of his armor.

He had to get there in time. He had to.

He sobbed again in earnest when he saw the warehouse in the distance, huddled among a few abandoned buildings knotted together in the midst of the empty sand. He steered the car directly for it. Up the hill it climbed at a speed it was definitely not designed for, on footing it was definitely not designed for. He didn’t care.

He swerved it when he realized he was coming up too fast, and nearly rolled it over. It screeched to a stop hard, and he didn’t even wait for it to fully stop. He didn’t put it in park, he didn’t even turn it off. He leapt out and hit the sand, and as soon as he was halfway to his feet again, he ran.

He rammed the door with his shoulder, and it gave without a moment’s pause. He ran inside.

It was shockingly darker inside the warehouse than it was out in the heat of the sun, but his eyes were drawn to the small, bloodied shape, anyway. It would be hard not to. Jason was on his side almost in the center of the warehouse. There was a short trail of blood behind him, from a thick, dark pool of the stuff just a few feet back, surrounded by bloody handprints and smudges. He’d tried to get away. Joker had done it there, had beaten him over there, and Jason had tried to crawl away, but had only gotten so far. Even from the distance, he could see Jason’s shoulders hitching, his chest trembling as it moved slightly, oh so slightly. But the noise. The noise was so awful, he nearly threw up instantly. Bile rushed up in his throat and he had to force it down, because he didn’t have time for it. Jason wasn’t moving aside from the twitch, up and down, jerking faintly the whole way, and all that was left of his voice was a small, shrill whistling that sounded drenched with blood. Bruce could see it on his face, trailing down his chin.

All this, in barely the space of a heartbeat Bruce could almost irrationally swear he didn’t have. The next instant, he was on his knees beside Jason, his hands shaking above his son’s small, broken body, and only now did he see something else that made his stomach turn. He hadn’t even noticed the other, larger body sprawled out less than six feet from Jason, the body Jason’s shattered wrist was reaching listlessly out towards, lying on the concrete. Sheila lay there, her eyes open and staring, a bullet hole in between them. Her brain was blown out the back of her skull.

Bruce sucked in air that smelled and tasted like blood and gunpowder. Oh, Jason. Poor baby.

Jason’s eyes were open, too. But they were rolled halfway back in his head, only a small smudge of brown visible. They were half-lidded, like he was half-asleep.

Bruce ducked down to his eye level anyway. “Jason,” he whispered helplessly, his voice shaking. “Jason.”

Jason’s eyes didn’t shutter. He just lay prone and breathed blood. Up and down. In and out.

Bruce’s clumsy hands were in Jason’s hair and ever so lightly cupping his face. His jawbone gave just a bit and Bruce nearly doubled over, barely inches away from him. “Jason,” he sobbed.

Still nothing. Bruce took a breath through his teeth that hissed with tears, and forced himself to rally. He had to get Jason out of here. He had to get him help.

“Jason, I have to...” he choked off, looking again at Jason’s body. How his uniform was torn, his ribs were crushed in on one side, his legs were twisted and broken like toothpicks, his arms were splayed and unmoving. “I have to move you.”

He moved his hands, unwillingly, from Jason’s fragile, beaten skull, to his swollen shoulder and his bruised knees. He felt sick tucking his hands beneath his son, smearing the blood and likely hurting him, but Jason probably was in so much pain he was in shock, anyway, even before the blood in his lungs and nose and mouth, and what choice did he have?

He still had to close his eyes an instant and sit, trying to steel himself. The rattle of air going into Jason and coming out soggy went on.

“It’s going to hurt, baby, I—I’m sorry,” Bruce choked out, and lifted halfway through.

He didn’t even make it a foot off the floor because Jason wailed, head back, shattered ribs heaving, right in his ear and the most agonized, childlike cry he’d ever heard in his life. Bruce had him laid back down again faster than if he were a hot poker he’d accidentally grabbed, and it took him a moment to get his breath back, to make the blackness ease off from the corners of his vision. And it came back quickly, because Jason was crying. The jagged rise and fall of his whole body was now punctuated with broken, half-realized sobs, that still carried more pain than Bruce had ever heard from a human in his life. His baby’s brown eyes were invisible, now. Clenched shut.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” Bruce realized he was crying, too, repeating the inadequate phrase over and over like some sort of spastic. He didn’t think Jason could hear him, so lost in his pain, drowning in it. He was shaking finely from head to foot.

Somehow, under it all, Bruce heard beeping. He glanced up.

A red timer stared back at him. It was at a minute and seventeen seconds.

Bruce looked down at Jason. His child’s face still had unspeakable suffering written all over it, even as the life had slowly but surely seeped out of him. His breathing was weaker, his movement more muted, but he was still whimpering very faintly, even as more blood frothed from his lips, darker.

And Bruce knew right then that he couldn’t move him. He’d probably kill him trying.

Jason was likely all but unconscious at this point. He was barely breathing. Bruce didn’t need to check his pulse to know his heart was probably in the midst of failing under the strain. His eyes were closed, his face slack and empty. His cheeks were ashen under all the blood and grime.

But he was still crying in his sleep.

He was his son, his child. He’d made him laugh on the day his parents died. He’d been by his side, whether as Robin or as himself, for the last few years of Bruce’s life, and Bruce had never, ever imagined he could be so happy after his mother and father. He’d had glimpses of it with Dick, and he loved Alfred like a father, but Jason was his child, wholly his, and loved him like that were true. Like it was the only thing he knew to be true.

And he knew that Alfred and Dick were no less loved than Jason, and the thought of them struck him like a knife through the heart, but Jason...Jason was lying beneath him. Dying. God, Jason was dying.

And he couldn’t leave him. He wouldn’t leave him alone. Even if Jason would never know.

Bruce laid down on his side facing Jason, between his mother and him. He took his gloves off and gently laid his hand atop Jason’s outstretched one, only curling his fingers as tight as he dared. The other hand he wrapped around Jason as much as he could, his arm circling his back and his hand cradling his head. He took a deep breath and settled there.

Briefly, he wondered if he should try to get his comm. Call Alfred and tell him goodbye, and he was sorry. Tell him he loved him, and to tell the same to Dick. To thank Jim, and Barbara, and Leslie, and Lucius.

But there wasn’t time. A glance cast over Jason’s body told him the timer was at fifty-seven seconds. He wouldn’t have time to get all that out, and it wouldn’t be fair, to Alfred, or Dick, or any of them. He had made the necessary preparations years ago, when he’d first left to find his way, before Batman was ever born. Alfred would know where the will was, and what needed doing. He’d updated it regularly since. He’d updated it when he’d taken Jason in, to make him one of his heirs and to ensure he’d always be cared for and looked after. Bruce had wanted him to live on, long and healthy, after he was gone.

He choked at the thought, but just held Jason tighter. He tucked his head up under his chin for a brief moment, then ducked to press a hard kiss to his forehead.

“I love you, Jaylad,” he said, to the near-silent air. “I love you, Jason.” He hadn’t said it enough before. He would say it now, and keep saying it. Even if Jason couldn’t hear him.

The timer crawled on. It was going by quickly, but he couldn’t help but feel it was dragging, too. Probably had something to do with the fact that he knew it was coming and was trying to brace for it. It felt like it should be faster, but when he glanced up and saw the thirty-one left on it, his breath left him.

He didn’t look at the timer again. He looked at Jason’s face.

Even marred by bruises and a broken jaw, his son’s face was familiar to him. The jagged jawline, the button nose, the freckles. The delicate eyelashes and hard, expressive brows. All the little pieces that made up Jason. His Jason.

“I love you,” he whispered again.

Jason’s eyes fluttered.

The beeping went on.

Jason’s eyes opened to dull slits. Bruce? he whispered soundlessly, bloody lips moving with nothing coming out.

The bomb went off.

___

Bruce’s eyes opened once after, and he was surprised they did. He regretted it, too, as he was instantly smothered in agonizing pain across every inch of his body. His face and neck were scorched and burned horribly, shrapnel stuck out of the suit every few inches, and the inside of his lungs felt as scorched as his face. Drawing breath smarted enough to bring tears to his eyes. The sky was dark and grey, and lit up from the bottom by flames. Something heavy was pinning his body from the side down, and he couldn’t feel his feet.

Somehow, he realized by shifting minutely, he’d held onto Jason. His son’s body was still entangled with his own, his black head still and silent against Bruce’s chest.

And Bruce didn’t have to check him to know. He was gone.

He’d known it was coming. He’d known it was coming quickly. But it still hurt. It hurt more than anything he’d ever felt. He closed his eyes and pulled Jason closer to him, no longer afraid of hurting him.

The tears cut streaks down his charred cheeks and stung and itched, but he had no capacity or will to stop them. He held Jason and cried softly to himself while the smoke billowed up and drifted back down and hung in a suffocating cloud above him, blocking off the stars.

___

It was thirteen hours before Alfred realized the gravity of the situation.

It was thirty-six before he had managed to find and collect Master Richard and make his way to the desert in another of the planes.

It was thirty-eight before they found the warehouse. They’d been looking for an intact building. Instead they found a pile of ashes and smoldering rubble, and a column of smoke towering a mile high.

Alfred had a feeling they both knew before they landed, but they searched anyway. It took them another solid eight hours to scour the rubble, with the caution of responders practiced in search-and-rescue.

It was Alfred who uncovered them, lifting a piece of roofing only to see the charred face of a boy he would recognize anywhere, in any condition. The same face he had seen for the first time over thirty-four years ago, when Master Thomas and Mrs. Martha had brought him home from the hospital, scrunched and silent in a striped white blanket.

He was curled up on his side in the rubble, like he had been when Alfred had put him to bed the night his mother and father had died.

For a moment he thought to try to shield Master Richard from the sight. But the lad was too fast, and had crossed the mess to be behind him the instant he’d paused. Ah well. Sooner or later they would have found them. Alfred tamped down his own grief, magnified by the sounds of his other grandson’s mourning, and positioned with him to lift the rubble off them fully, uncovering both bodies.

Master Jason was shockingly small in Master Bruce’s arms, even for the lanky form he’d just recently grown into. His body was mutilated beyond belief, and Richard pivoted and threw up upon seeing him, but his face looked almost peaceful against Bruce’s chestplate, cupped gently there with a large hand, stiff in rigor mortis.

Together, Alfred and Richard carefully lifted the bodies onto a gurney to be covered with a sheet. They could not separate Jason from Bruce, and they did not bother to try.

On the flight home there were friends to be called, bad news to be delivered, crying over the coms to be done, arrangements to make.

But when Clark Kent, and Diana Prince, and Donna Troy, and Barry Allen and his family, and Barbara and Jim Gordon came to the Manor’s grounds for the private interments in the family cemetery, only one grave was dug. Bruce and Jason were buried together, side by side.

[calleo-bricriu]

Don’t ask why I keep subjecting myself to this, because I don’t have a good answer.

More of this awful book.

Skimmed the rest of chapter 13. Nothing terribly interesting, Mizpra being all excited for her mother possibly having a stroke when the train's altitude changes, talk about how weak and pitiful Burke is (and, for some reason, to keep him from "catching cold" she makes him strip and wrap up in two wool blankets which seems like it'd be incredibly itchy), Mizpra tries to hasten the whole "give mom a stroke" thing by getting her mother day drunk.

A lot of references to alcohol being a stimulant again which, no.

Burke shows a little concern for Mizpra keeping her mother drunk and outside on an observation platform all damn day, so she tells him to go back inside and stop bothering them.

Wasn't at all concerned that her mother's face was turning blue because that's a normal thing I guess, shakes her mother awake, and of course her mother has the sroke and now she's just, "Oh shi--wait a minute, I didn't consider what might happen if the stroke kills her!" Not the best planning, Mizpra.

So she starts drinking and talking at her possibly dying mother about how she's going to ruin Obera's life.

And, like every poorly written villain in fiction, she says something ridiculous to herself: "Hell hath no horror; Heaven hath no hope."

At this point, I'd agree with her, only just in regards to this book.

Chapter 14 and we're back to Leigh.

Rev. Bald, we find out, knows a lot about alcohol and doesn't like his collar or waistcoat.

Finds out in a letter from Mizpra that he'll get paid once she's got proof of her brother's life being in shambles again.

For the time, five thousand per year as long as Leigh is in prison isn't all that bad; he really needs to step his game up because so far all he's done is invite the guy to hang out once, got shut down by Obera, and left.

"[...] literally poured the liquor down his throat," yeah, that's how drinking works.

He goes off for a good eight or so pages about how it's no crime to be poor out of absolutely nowhere. I mean, he's not wrong but why is he talking about it to the walls of his library?

Oh look, Leigh came to visit under false pretenses and seems to suspect that's the case but decided not to worry his on vacation wife and did exactly what he told her he wouldn't: Hang out with Rev. Bald.

Because he's a genius, he suspects Rev. Bald is being paid off by Mizpra to fuck up their lives and also thinks he'd sell her out if he was ever discovered. At this point you know damn well Leigh is basically the author because there's no reason at all Leigh would even HAVE that suspicion unless he'd been reading along with the rest of us.

Anyway, he got lured out there under the pretense of seeing or looking at some case of a morphine addict who isn't actually there.

So, because Leigh is a genius and understands everything, including more than most of those who study theology, Rev Bald pretty much plays right into that and says vague, sort of wrong-ish things just so Leigh the Genius will be compelled to correct him at length to, you know, remind everyone that he's a genius and better that everyone at everything.

Because he's a genius and you're not.

And Leigh sits there picking apart religion which might have been interesting if he weren't just sort of repeating himself with more and more pretentious wording.

"Do you know of any religion that has really made man better?" is a perfectly reasonable rhetorical question, at least.

Ah, and Leigh is into Darwin.

But, hey, Rev. Bald tricked Leigh into going out with him. I mean, Leigh would probably just say he's playing along but, you know...

They end up going to a dodgy district where everyone still somehow remembers Leigh from his drinking days. Probably should have picked a different neighborhood, Rev. Bald. It's like you didn't even research your mark.

We find out Leigh doesn't want to go to the first bar because he legit spent an entire week there without bathing or eating or sleeping just drinking and, I have to be honest, if I'd done something like that and was sure the people there would remember me, I probably wouldn't want to go back there either.

They end up in a bar and Leigh is, so far, being good and not drinking and has decided that Rev. Bald was going to be HIS victim--not sure what kind of victim, probably just to out him as working for Mizpra.

Oh hey, it's not just a bar, it's a brothel! Or, as Leigh's narrative describes it, a "dark, opprobrious den of crime and shame." Turns out he doesn't like makeup either, especially red lipstick because, as we all know, only whores wear that.

And now he's remembering some murder scene in the same place because not only is he a doctor, author, scholar, philosopher, and Merlin knows what else, he's ALSO a detective I guess!

I have to admit the memory of one of the workers at the place punching an actual, been there long enough to be bloated corpse because when you do that it makes apparently amusing sounds for the crowd of other people there who also found this amusing was, in and of itself, so absurd it made me laugh.

I'm sure it was meant to be horrifying but you can't read something like, "Over the prostrate victim bent the diseased-eaten harridan. She was amusing her companions by punching the inflated tissues, laughing and shrieking at the crackling, whistling effect it produced, while the dank denizens of the place gave vent to their pleasure by libidinous expressions and Paphian oaths," and NOT laugh.

Also the author is trying to tell us that, when he went to pull the punchy prostitute away from the corpse, her wig came off and her brain was straight up exposed through her "rotting skull".

For a fucking doctor you'd think he'd know that there is no actual way she'd be alive so unless he hallucinated this zombie prostitute...

So he thinks he's being taken to see the morphine addict and, of course, it's just a prostitute. She might also be a morphine addict but not the one Rev. Bald was describing as near death.

"Various odors in the room seemed to run in strata, as each step brought visitors to a different zone of pungent, offensive odors."

What are they?

Cigarettes, beer, lobster somehow, butter, cheap perfume.

I've been in worse rooms.

So she apparently IS the morphine addict he was talking about earlier, not like Leigh believes it, and Rev. Bald is going to just go ahead and leave the good doctor alone with her.

Leigh's first, uh, method of examination is to lift her arm, stroke her armpit, then drop her and move closer to the light to...look at his fingers. What the hell?

She was cool with it the first time but when he did it again she kind of freaked out which is perfectly understandable.

So there was a guy hiding in the curtains that was meant to jump Leigh but, Leigh being Leigh and good at everything, noticed him first and gave him a one punch knock out because Leigh is just that awesome.

And somehow Leigh, Rev. Bald, the woman, and the unconscious man are all locked in this nasty little room, the woman is going to apparently beat the hell out of Bald and broke a bottle over his head then, satisfied with that, shouts over to Leigh to continue beating the hell out of Rev. Bald because he'd set up the other guy to jump him.

Probably not a good idea to take Leigh to a brothel where everyone knew him.

She keeps smacking Bald in the head with a glass bottle and finally Leigh stops her before, y'know, she kills him. His reasoning for that was that killing him would be inconvenient for everyone which is fair enough.

Short conversation of, "Well if either one of them is dead we're both screwed, let's clean up the blood and I'll go get a police officer or whatever."

He comes back and--she's tried to redo her makeup to get back to work but there's this line about her hiding her powder puff: "[...] which she quickly hid in the bosom of her waist"--I don't think I want to know where she put that powder puff but I really hope she washes it before using it on her face again.

The lady then starts lecturing the mostly not conscious guy on the floor of her room about how it's his fault she's a prostitute somehow; based on how she's talking about money, sounds like she's one of his girls.

And that's it for chapter 15.

Chapter 16 is some flashback from the brothel woman about how she met Leigh; of course, since he's a genius doctor he offered, for free, to give her "deformed and useless" child whatever operation it is he needed. It's never specified, just that the kid is "deformed".

Also a lot of references to "dirty Poles" because it's gross to have to listen to Polish in an emergency room I guess.

Anyway, he's like The Saint Doctor who gives free medical care to everyone because he's a genius (of course) and none of the other doctors understand him. Also, he was just paying for everyone's medical care out of pocket because at some point, through one of the time skips, he went from jobless drunk to highly esteemed and rich author, lecturer, doctor, and scholar.

Getting really tired of Leigh.

She gets jolted out of her daydream when the train stops.She asks the "kindly old Irishman" who was cleaning up the station if she could hang out, he figures she's sober, so he says she can and she goes back to daydreaming about Leigh.

Whatever was wrong with her "deformed" kid was fixed and he's apparently recovered and Leigh arranged for the kid to be basically put in a foster home at some farm because that was apparently legal at one point, to just--give other peoples kids to someone else with no oversight.

Her name is May, we find out two chapters fucking late.

And she was somehow the thing that got him to clean his act up because that's how addiction works.

Now she's not daydreaming anymore because the train is about to arrive.

Chapter 17 is more of the same of these two catching up and talking about Rev. Bald being kind of a dick.

Also, who talks like this? "In his presence the finer feelings of her sex were aroused, her self-respect was active; and he knew it."

REALLY tired of Leigh now.

Basically, between really awkward sort of flirting we find out what anyone reading figured out several chapters ago: Mizpra is a terrible planner when it comes to remotely murdering people and Rev. Bald is proof of that because he basically fucked it up the first night.

And now he's going to go introduce his prostitute friend to Mops.

I feel like that's something he should have discussed with Obera first?

Ah yes, back to "masculine voiced women" who are, of course, matrons at some kind of--I don't even know what at this point, and I don't really care but of course, the women the author wants to have us view as bad are always mascluline in some way and are occasionally also fat and clumsy.

Like he's got any room to talk. I've seen photographs.

Oh of course, a religious boarding house for children of prostitutes where the manly, fat, clumsy women routinely berate the children.

In fairness, places like that did exist until fairly recently so I'm okay with the author kind of dragging them.

Ah, yes, Obera, gone from child-like and saucy to, "[...] radiantly beautiful, and in that full activity of healthy womanhood, which only true love and motherhood can develop."

Anyway, she starts begging Leigh to just straight up murder Mizpra, has a crying fit, then falls asleep and he starts waxing poetic about how her tiny little woman brain can't fully understand the situation.

Of course, Obera doesn't want the prostitute to see Mops because she's a "horrid, bad woman".

And that's it for chapter 17.

[bat-losers-inc]

Kintsugi: Chapter 5

Warnings: panic attacks, drug use, and adult language.

Summary: Final Crisis/Red Robin AU. Dick admits Tim to a psychiatric facility after Bruce is lost in time. Jason finds him suffering at the hands of a Scarecrow-copycat and breaks him out. While safe in Jason’s apartment, Tim still struggles with panic attacks and drug withdrawal. At a loss for what to do, Jason calls Roy Harper.

Pairings: Jason Todd & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Roy Harper, Roy Harper & Jason Todd.

As Roy drove them back to the safehouse, casually inquiring about some recent news stories that he’d seen coming out of Gotham, Tim stared out the back window feeling spacey and drunk. He squinted at the passing buildings and the brilliantly illuminated billboards, but couldn’t focus his eyes enough to read any of the signs and advertisements before they streaked past him into the gloomy distance.

“Could you turn up the heat?” Tim asked, acutely aware that Roy had complied with this same request only five minutes earlier. While the cool spring air had felt like a relief from the stuffy diner only a moment ago, Roy’s car seemed to trap in the cold air despite the number of bodies in the car radiating heat. Though it was a lie, Tim was almost starting to believe the story Jason had sold to the stranger in the parking lot. He really did feel sick; suffering from clammy palms and brisk shivers seemingly all at once.

Tim caught the flash of Roy’s eyes in the rearview mirror but it was hard to tell who his concerned gaze was directed at. Perhaps, both of them, thought Tim. He knew his withdrawal symptoms were getting worse and would only continue to get worse until his body recovered from its current chemical imbalance.

“Hey, Tim,” Jason slid off his leather jacket. “Take my jacket instead.”

He pressed Tim forward slightly with a hand between his shoulder blades so he could flip it over Tim’s shoulders.

“You sure?” he asked, though his fingers were already curling into the smooth brown leather and pulling it tighter around his frame. He felt bad taking Jason’s jacket since he was already wearing a pair of Jason’s old sweats as it was, but he didn’t know if he could play down his reluctance if Jason changed his mind and asked for it back.

Jason smiled, with a hint of knowing humor. “Yeah, I think I overdressed. That’s my bad, I never know how to dress in the spring. One moment it’s cold and windy, the next it’s raining and it’s up 15 degrees.”

Roy pulled the car around to the back of the safehouse and into one of the old loading areas previously used for stocking shipping trucks. While the trucks had been cleared out when the facility went out of business, it seemed Jason still put the space to good use as a makeshift garage. As Jason slipped out of the back to pull the rolling steel door down behind them and lock it with chain and padlock, Tim caught sight of Jason’s motorcycle propped up on its kickstand across the room, part of it’s red trim visible under the sheet covering it.

Tim pointed a thumb back over his shoulder at it as Jason straightened up from the floor. “How come you didn’t take the bike to come find me?”

Jason laughed and shared a smile with Roy over the roof of the car. “Oh, man, wouldn’t that have been a sight! Me trying to make a discreet getaway with your skinny ass flopping around all unconscious over the handlebars.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve pulled off bigger stunts than that with just a motorcycle,” said Roy. “I’m sure you could have made it work.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered. Bike’s in the shop after a nasty run-in with Clayface. I’ve got to take the whole thing apart and clean it piece by piece before I can see if it’ll even run again. Who knows, might have to buy a new engine if there’s clay in there as well.”

Roy whistled, “Damn, Basil.”

“If you’re taking it apart anyway, I could make some upgrades to the tech. If you want, that is?” offered Tim.

Jason walked over to him and didn’t stop until he was close enough for Tim to smell the faint lingering scent of coffee on his breath as he exhaled a tired smile. He reached out and tugged his jacket by the collar so it rested further onto Tim’s smaller form. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m poor.”

“No, I’m offering to work for free.”

Jason rolled his eyes before leading the way out of the loading area and up the concrete stairs to what had been converted into the first floor living area of the safehouse. “I know, but I wouldn’t be able to afford the tools you’d need to make anything with. Circuit boards, soldering iron, electricals wires that kind of shit.”

And Tim was beginning to understand what Jason was talking about as he looked around the first floor. It was comprised of three loosely formed sections. The first area was a living room consisting of a worn-looking leather couch, a threadbare rug, and a small TV propped on top of a stack of wooden crates turned sideways to double as a bookcase. Next to this was a workspace that was just a wooden table with three Mac desktop computers placed on top and an office chair in front. Finally, in the back corner of the large space was the kitchen (probably the most lavishly furnished area out of all three sections of the first floor) sporting a butcher block table, a dangling array of pots and pans, and floating cabinets stocked with chipped coffee mugs, plates and bowls, and your grandmother’s finest depression glassware in all it’s emerald greens, deep blues, and salmony pinks.

Tim, honestly, stood there in shock at such an eclectic sight of homegoods and turned away from it to look around, if only to spare his eyes. He caught sight of a bin shoved against a wall next to a bank of windows.

“Why do you keep a bin full of your broken Red Hood helmets? Do you fix those up as well?”

Jason came up next to him and offered him a glass of water in a decoratively cut salmon tumbler. “Oh, I sell them off to Red Hood fans as ‘found artifacts’ on Ebay. I usually can get a couple hundred for the heavily dented ones. Maybe a solid fifty bucks if it’s shattered and missing certain parts.”

“Oh, you still do that?” asked Roy, coming over and taking the glass of water Tim had waved off. He drank heavily from it before continuing. “I tried that for a bit but nobody really cares about destroyed baseball caps, even if I do specify that they were cut in half by alien death lasers.”

Tim glanced between them, thinking only of how horrified Bruce would be if he learned about this side hustle Jason had going. “But… aren’t you worried about people getting access through your old comm links inside the helmets?”

Jason made a face. “No. I rip out the comms myself before I sell them. I’m not stupid, Tim. I just have bills to pay. Welcome to the vigilante life without Bruce Wayne’s trust fund to fall back on.”

Without Tim even noticing, his trembling had subsided for a period. It was only now, as he felt a chill race up his arms, the hair bristelling, that he realized another spell had started up again. Tim stumbled back so he could lean back against the edge of the butcher block table on trembling arms, he sucked in a sharp breath in an effort to steady his sudden nausea.

“Hey guys, I— ” Tim looked up towards the two older boys and regretted it almost immediately as the room lurched and sparkled with pinpricks of light.

“Tim? You good?” Roy’s eyebrows were drawing together as he gave him a once-over.

That growing buzzing in his ear was rising high enough to block out whatever Roy was trying to say to him. He tried to shake his head no, but found his head just as uncooperative as his tongue. He was aware of the heavy weight of his limbs, a feeling like he was sinking into mud, and of Roy’s sudden appearance at his side as he took Tim’s dead weight over his shoulder and half dragged him up the stairs. They laid him down on a narrow bed, and Tim watched Roy and Jason as they stood over him arguing with sharp gestures and vivid expressions, a tv drama with the sound cut off.

He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. He felt like some large invisible hand had dropped out of the sky and pinned him to the mattress. Tim was used to fainting from blood loss: the dizzy spells, the loud thump of blood in his ears, the weakness in his limbs, he had experienced it all before. But this sensation lingered for so long that Tim feared he’d suffocate under the crushing weight bearing down on his chest.

Roy cut off his argument in mid sentence and looked sharply down at Tim. Perhaps he’d made some sound of distress without knowing it? Before he could ponder it further, Roy’s strong fingers were digging into his shoulder and pulling him up and over the side of the mattress, pushing Tim’s head down between his knees.

Tim was surprised by how quickly the worst of his symptoms abated after that. He experimentally tried to move his hand and watched as his fingers gave a hard twitch against his bent knee. Noise, too, was slowly creeping back into Tim’s ears. He definitely wasn’t back to normal, but it was significantly better.

“ — I’ve got some Benzos from a dealer I’m familiar with. Pills— he didn’t have whatever Tim was given at Breckenridge on hand. But what was I supposed to do? I had no idea how much to give him and he was unconscious at the time.”

Roy grunted, fingers sliding free of Tim’s hair.  “Could have gotten him tested when he woke up. A urine sample at least.”

“Listen,” snapped Jason, his jean-clad legs visible from Tim’s upturned position. Tim watched him shift his weight onto his other foot and then back again just as fast. “I was just happy he did wake up. Do you want me to go get the pills? I can get them they’re right—”

There was a sudden burst of movement and Jason cut off abruptly. Tim raised his head, curious. Roy had seized at one of Jason’s gesturing hands, stilling it in a tight urgent grip. “Don’t tell me where you keep them and don’t tell him.”

Roy’s eyes cut to Tim. He swallowed hard when he caught sight of the look in Roy’s eyes— a look that showed that Roy knew just what he was capable of losing to another relapse if given half the chance.

“Go get it from wherever you’re keeping it, but it stays in your hand or locked away at all times. Do you understand me? No matter what I say to you. You never hand those drugs to me and you never put them down out of sight.”

Tim wondered what it was like to be so distrustful of your own body and its cravings. To feel like human and demon cohabitating one frail form. The demon half— resistant to exorcisms— always waiting for the perfect opportunity to take control of your limbs and lead you into disgrace if you let down your guard. Tim was beginning to understand why addiction organisations had adopted the serenity prayer into the very fabric of their programs.  

Jason pried his wrist free of Roy’s hold and attempted to rub away the lingering pattern Roy’s fingers had left around his wrist like a bracelet. “I’ve got it, man. I promise I won’t let you get tempted.”

Roy shoved up to his feet. “No I will be tempted, Jason. This whole fucking situation is one big horrible temptation for me. Which is why I shouldn’t be here!”

“Then why did you come, huh?”

“I came because you asked me! Because you’re my best friend and I was worried sick about what would happen if I left you on your own with this. I mean, just look at him, Jason— ”

Tim cringed as Roy flung an hand in his direction.

“ — It’s only been a day and a half and already you’re doing so well!”

Jason wouldn’t be swayed from his original argument, even to defend his own actions.

“You came to Gotham because you wanted to help. No just for one day, not just to set up, but to really help Tim— to help the both of us when we’re days into this mess of a situation and worn down by it. You know the process better than anyone and how to help on the worst of Tim’s days because you’ve experience it too.”

“I can’t do it, Jason. I can’t be responsible for someone else’s recovery—”

“You know just as well as I do that sponsoring someone else is the best way to stay clean. And your sponsor is closer to you now more than ever. If you need more support to fall back on Croc’s—”

“Do not spit that NA bullshit at me right now! I’m not ready to sponsor anyone when I feel like I’m one misstep away from using again.”

Jason’s tone had lost its anger but not it’s earnestness. “You’ve been clean for three years, Roy. You’ll ready to take the next step.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” said Roy.

“I know,” said Jason. “I’m just presenting you with the opportunity to step up to it.”

Roy dropped his gaze to a stack of books piled up in the corner. He rubbed slowly at his crossed arms. “Just—” he sighed, hand rubbing at his eyes. “Just go get the pills, please.”

Jason stared at Roy’s averted back for a long moment before turning and heading back downstairs. The sounds of objects being shifted around floated up to them in the echoing space of the safehouse.

Roy said nothing.

Though he hadn’t been yelling at him, Tim felt called out by his previously harsh words all the same. He dropped his eyes to the floor, not daring to move until he heard Jason thumping up the metal staircase, feeling burdensome and unworthy of causing such a rift between a two longtime friends like Jason and Roy. He was dirt— less than dirt, even. Should he just take the pills and leave? Trudge back to his apartment, file the emancipation papers, and ride this out alone with the doors locked and the shades pulled down until he was clean? Save everyone the trouble.

Would Jason even let him? He’d said no, but maybe it Tim really pleaded with him...

He couldn’t hide the fact that the prospect of setting out on his own, in his current condition, scared him more than anything. He was vulnerable in a way he’d never been before, and doors and locks would do nothing to stop Ra’s and his men from coming to collect him if Ra’s wanted to. The only thing that Tim had previously had going for him when he was locked away in Breckenridge under a false alias, was the knowledge that Ra’s didn’t know where he was— but sick and alone at home was another matter entirely.

Jason appeared at the top of the stairs and approached Tim, a tiny plastic bag filled with little white pills in one hand, a glass of water in the other. By the time Jason crouched down in front of him, Tim’s heart was pounding an aching thump inside his chest and his stomach was coiled tight with knots.  

“Just give him one for now, just to ease his symptoms.” said Roy from the corner of the room.

“Here, Tim. Take this,” Jason said.

Tim felt ready to die from his panic. He stared between the single pill resting in Jason’s palm and the pills inside the small bag, counting how many were there. He was afraid to take the one Jason offered out to him— afraid of prolonging this process, and at the same time he wanted to tear bag out of Jason’s hand and tilt a few into his fist and swallow, to drown out the world until it faded into a tiny buzz at the back of his head. Something that he could ignore for a bit until he felt more up to it.

“I’m sorry!” Tim burst out all at once. He curled inwards, pulling his legs up onto the mattress, unsure of when exactly he’d started crying. But his breaths came heavy and ragged and the tears in his eyes washed out Jason from view.

“Hey, hey,” Jason had put down the glass and Tim found himself pulled against Jason’s chest, his face awkwardly pressed against Jason’s breast. “Shh, it’s gonna be okay, Tim. Here just take this and you’ll calm down a bit.”

Jason slipped a pill past his lips and tipped his head back to catch a sip of water. Tim swallowed reflexively, mostly afraid that he might choke on the pill if he didn’t with the way his chest was spasming through sobs. Jason pulled him close again and Tim heard but couldn’t make sense of the murmuring conversation that occurred between Roy and Jason, for it sounded horribly technical and out of place with what Tim was feeling in that moment. He was transported back to Breckenridge, remembering the constricting sensation of orderly’s hands pinning his own to his sides, a needle sticking into him, and the voices of a station nurse and his doctor exchanging notes over his head that sounded like they came straight out of a medical textbook.

What do you mean? Tim wanted to cry at them but he could already feel himself slipping down into the mattress beneath him. Jason’s hands tucked a blanket around his shoulders and then they were gone.

And then he was gone.

  Jason left the safehouse, and in that moment he felt that it was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

Only minutes ago, he’d looked down at Tim, tucked under a blanket with tear tracks still staining his ruddy cheeks, looking younger than Jason had ever remembered seeing him. Just a kid, a horribly fucked up kid that Jason was trying to save.  

“You need to go back to Breckenridge,” Roy urged. “Keselman’s office is the only place we have that could give us the record of Tim’s dosages.”

“Go back to an active crime scene? Are you kidding me? I might as well walk myself into a Bludhaven police station.”

“It’s suicide.” Jason stressed for added effect since it seemed like Roy wasn’t getting that.

 “Not necessary,” said Roy, “You killed him in the basement where he was working off the books. Those notes might have been overlooked as irrelevant by the detectives at the time.”

Jason’s eyes lingered on Tim.

Roy stood up from his crouched position on the edge of Tim’s bed and walked over to Jason. He gave his shoulder a squeeze. “He’ll be fine. I’ll be right here to look after him.”

“But the pills— you said you couldn’t— what if he needs more—”

“He’ll be fine with what we gave him for now. It’s enough to take the edge off and help him sleep for a bit.”

Jason nodded, if begrudgingly and went to get changed into his full gear for he was unsure what he would find waiting for him back in Bludhaven. With the pills safely locked at of reach, Roy tossed him his car keys and Jason drove towards Bludhaven with his utility belt and helmet resting next to him in the passenger seat. He parked the car a few blocks away on a side street with little traffic and slipped into the rest of his gear under the shadow of a broken streetlight.

From his previous research of the psychiatric hospital Jason understood the medical offices to be on the upper levels and on the other side of the facility from where patients were housed. Jason guessed the idea was to keep patient and visitor interactions as separated as possible unless visitations had been scheduled. Much like, Jason thought with dark irony, the way a prison facility was arranged.

But even with that thought lingering in the back of his mind, Jason was glad for the enforced separation since it meant that Jason was able to stay far away from the added security and police tape that blocked off the lower levels that Jason had explored the night before.

He entered the building through a service door whose locked he picked with ease. Then came the slipping and ducking again, this time past the doors of the medical staff— their office aglow in overhead lighting as they busily held conference with other psychiatrists or typed away at their papers. Jason found himself having to duck low under the windows placed in their doors so his shadow couldn’t be seen moving past.

When Jason found Doctor Keselman’s office, he saw that Roy’s argument had held up. While the doctor’s office wasn’t the prime scene of investigation, it had still been picked over by the detectives on the case. The sheer mess of paperwork and empty filing cabinets was enough to tell Jason that. But even still, much of the doctor’s paperwork and patient files remained.

Alvin Draper’s file, however, was not among the stack on the floor. Jason stood and surveyed the room with a critical eye, humming the jeopardy theme song to hurry along his slugging and distracted brain. It was hard to focus on anything in particular in the current darkness of the space but he dared not turn the lights on and risk attracting curious eyes to a dead man’s office.

 “If I was a mad scientist where would I hide my notes?” Jason asked himself, his hands sliding underneath the bottoms of the desk drawers, hoping to find a hidden cache. Jason picked open locked drawers and slid the couch away from the wall, but continued to find nothing but lost paperclips and dust bunnies.

He let his head fall back against the arm of the couch with a thud, staring disparagingly up at the water stains overlapping on the ceiling tiles and contemplating his remaining options. “If I have to go back down to that creepy fucking basement again there’s gonna be another murder I swear to god.”

Jason tilted his head to the right and squinted. “Oh, don’t tell me he did a Breaking Bad. What a fucking idiot.”

Jason jumped up and grabbed one of the guest chairs from around the front of the desk and dragged it up again the wall. He stepped up onto it and as quietly as he could, worked the screws out of the wall vent with the back of his knife, collecting them into the cup of his palm. He pulled the cover off of the vent, his breath held tightly in his chest, hoping beyond hope that it didn’t make any noise. Jason crouched down and laid it on top of the desk before shining a light up into the vent.

The sight that greeted him made his heart soar for deep at the back, duct-taped in place, was a clear case holding a series of papers and an audio recorder. Jason shoved his arm into the vent and ripped it from its hiding spot.

Standing over the desk with it, he cracked it open and skimmed through the papers tucked inside. Scanned copies of Alvin Draper’s medical records— pulled straight from his file and promptly returned as if nothing was amiss, handwritten pages full of calculations and notes, and finally tucked underneath it all a small field notebook. Jason unwound the cord ties and flipped through it hungerly, feeling excited— in a way that would have almost made him feel uncomfortable if he’d stopped for long enough to think about it— as his eyes skimmed down through the diary entries noting the strategic increases in the listed dosages and their side effects.

Jason stared down at the final entry, dated only a few days ago, for a long time. He tried to wrap his head around the last noted dosage that Tim had been given while mentally comparing it with the one on the first page of the journal. His mind drifted back to the scene that he’d left unresolved in his safehouse, pushing away the background noises of the stirring papers on the desk and the the tick of the wall clock at his back, in favor of recalling how quickly Tim’s panic had increased to the point of spilling over into a panic attack.

 Jason’s thoughts jumped backwards with a jolt. Stirring papers… he’d placed them on the desk but he hadn’t open the window—

Jason jerked his gaze up from the notebook and found Damian’s katana drawn and held ready to cut his face in half. Dick, in Batman’s suit, was just slipping his other foot over the window sill and straightening up to regard him. “Motherfucker.”

“Where is he, Jason?” Dick growled in his best Batman voice. Close, he thought, but not nearly as intimidating. “Where’s Tim?”

Jason tucked the notebook into an inside pocket of his jacket. He held up his hands, arms spread wide in a gesture of peace.

“Okay,” he said. “So here’s the thing—”

He flung the chair he’d been standing on at Damian’s chest and bolt for the door.