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thecapricunt1616 · 7 months ago

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Maca Root - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): By the time you heard keys in the door, you were already in your pajamas. He came in, clearly uncomfortable. “Shit you made dinner f’r us?! God you’re amazing baby” he wraps you in a hug. He smelt lightly like grease and sweat, but it was a smell you’d never dislike. It was distinctly Bear. Your Bear. “I did, you deserve somethin’ hot hm? How was your day?” You asked softly and kissed his jaw, and down his neck, before rubbing over his chest lightly and getting on your knees to unlace his sneakers to which he sighed gratefully, as his back was killing him after scrubbing the floors for over an hour.

♡ Chapter Inspo: Maca Root is considered a sacred feminine master plant in Peru and is involved in spiritual ceremonies for those wanting to unlock, release, heal, and bring harmony back to the body.

♡ Summary: You cook for Carmy for a change so he has a real dinner for once, & he thanks you with his mouth. Oh! And he tells you he wants to make things official.

♡ W/C: 3,330

♡ Posted Date: 05/10/2024

♡ A/N: Hello! I am literally SO dead I watched the eras tour live stream from Tess on TikTok- SHE PUT IN TTPD!! AAA! Anyway HAHA I had to talk abt. it because i'm literally dead, the whole set is FABULOSO!!! Anywhore - I am so happy with the love Vervain is getting omg! Thank you so much again @carmenberzattosgf for the lovely inspiring ask ILY forever! This one-shot is based on this ask ♡ here ♡ thank you so much oh lovely anon! I hope you like this, please send me an ask any time! As always requests are open everyone! Please enjoy :) *Smooches*

♡ Warnings for BTC: !UNEDITED! (We die like men!), NO Use of Y/N, Fem!Reader (Described AFAB), NO use of physical descriptors (Fem!Black!Reader friendly!), Use of pet names, Smut!, F&M oral giving & receiving, fingering.

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡

➵ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐫��𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞! ♡

➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡

➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

You quietly unlocked up Carmys apartment door, seeing as it was 11:00 and he still wasn’t home. You sighed deeply to yourself, slightly annoyed but slightly having expected this. So you go ahead and clean up the empty water bottles and redbull cans, vacuuming and putting his dirty jeans and tshirts in his washing machine for him and starting a load.

You even found some spaghetti and sauce in the cabinet, starting a pot on the stove knowing he was never later then 12:15, and he always ate when he got home since family service was at 3:00 and 9 hours on his feet rushing around a kitchen absolutely built up quite the appetite.

You stripped his bed and put on fresh sheets for the two of you just in time to strain the pasta, and queue up one of his favorite YouTube cooking channels newest videos. You weren’t sure how he understood anything going on given as they were speaking Russian- but he likes what he likes.

By the time you heard keys in the door, you were already in your pajamas. He came in, clearly uncomfortable. “Shit you made dinner f’r us?! God you’re amazing baby” he wraps you in a hug. He smelt lightly like grease and sweat, but it was a smell you’d never dislike. It was distinctly Bear. Your Bear.

“I did, you deserve somethin’ hot hm? How was your day?” You asked softly and kissed his jaw, and down his neck, before rubbing over his chest lightly and getting on your knees to unlace his sneakers to which he sighed gratefully, as his back was killing him after scrubbing the floors for over an hour.

“Y’re a fuckin angel- I don’t deserve that baby” he tells you this every night, but every night you continue to do it, because he does.

“Come sit bear” you drag him to the couch, gently tugging off his sneakers when he sits and he groans, resting his sore feet on the coffee table

“Oh shit- this is new?” He asked as he saw the tv, grabbing the controller and hitting play on the video of some Russian woman making soup.

“Mmhmm- here baby” you made up his plate and brought it to him with a fork and napkin to see he was already slumping down on the couch with his arms crossed and eyes hooded half asleep, he was exhausted. “Bear-“ you said gently and he woke up quickly, sitting up.

“Wow- thank you sweetheart, fuck this is so nice. I’m so hungry thank you honey” he took the plate and kissed you tenderly. “Wait- fuckin hell princess did you clean? Don’ be doin’ that I told you honey thas’ my job” he told you, twirling a good amount of pasta on his fork and taking a bite

“I did clean because there were empty redbull cans everywhere. And you deserve a clean place to hang out when you aren’t working mm?” You kiss the top of his head before heading back to the kitchen and putting away the rest of the pasta, then washing the dishes.

“Baaaaaabe!” He groans in annoyance when he heard the sink cut on and you washing the dishes you used to make dinner “stop! I can do those ‘fore work” he mumbled through a mouth of spaghetti and you giggle

“Ah yes at 2:00? In 3 hours? When I can just do them now?” You teased “id rather have the extra 5 minutes in bed with you” you told him and he blushed, finishing his food as you finished up the dishes and going to sit back on the couch

“Aht!” You tut “bathroom stinky garlic breath then bed.” You told him and he huffed, having been caught.

“C’mon m’tired babygirl come sit w’me” he said and gave you a pout, tugging your hips. You caught yourself on the back of the couch, hovering over him and refusing to give in and straddle his hips, knowing if you did he’d just roll over, lay down, and fall asleep immediately.

“Carmen” you said softly and he scrunched his nose at the use of his full name.

“Don’ call me that” he mumbled, hugging your torso and nuzzling his face in your belly, sighing tiredly.

“Carmen Anthony” you said in response and you laughed at the dramatic groan that came out of him, like a toddler being scolded. “It’s that time my dear, for you to go brush your teeth. Then you can come to bed and I’ll rub your back” you said and his head shot up

“Really?” He questioned hopefully and you giggle.

“Really truly. Get in that bathroom” you ruffle his hair and shut off the tv before heading to the bedroom. He came in a few minutes later, stripping down to his boxers and laying stomach down.

“Been thinkin’ “ he mumbled as you warm up the lotion in your hands.

“Yeah? What about sweetheart?” You gently rub his tight shoulders and he moaned softly at the contact, letting out one of his tired bear sighs as you called them. Just a long, breathy sigh that ended with a little grumble like an old man how bears did in nature documentaries when settling in for the night.

“ ‘bout us” he said and you smiled a bit, continuing to massage his shoulders and back.

“About us huh? What about us love” you counter. You and Carmy had been seeing eachother for about 4 months now, you’d only really been to the restaurant after closing when everyone has already went home but you had gone once for your sisters birthday - of course you told her you knew a great spot when she asked for recommendations. When he saw your name on the reservation list that night, he thought he was surely hallucinating.

When it was finally your reservation time, he went over to the window and looked over his restaurant. Sure enough, you were sitting there. It took everything in him to not go out there - you looked stunning. He wanted to tell you that, he wanted to get a closer look at what you were wearing. He always loved your outfits because you were into vintage fashion just like he was, one of your favorite dates was to get coffee together and then go thrifting.

But he didn’t, because he wasn’t sure you wanted anyone to know you were dating, but he did make sure to let Richie know to comp the table. He was confused as all hell, even more so when he asked ‘why’ and Carmen snapped at him -

‘I dunno cause it says it’s a fuckin birthday table on the reservation and I’m fuckin’ feelin’ nice? So just comp the table and get off my back, cousin.’

Because he hadn’t ever known another time where Carmy was ‘feeling nice’ before, but nonetheless he did as he was told per usual. Your sister was over the moon excited, gushing about what a great review she would leave and how nice it is they gave a random patron a birthday meal.

You weren’t sure if Carmy was okay with you telling people you were dating - so you agreed and just said it was awesome, pretending that same night the man who had made the meal wasn’t fucking you against his shower wall the night prior.

When he saw you that night, and asked why you never said anything - you told him you didn’t wanna be a bother or make him feel you were owed ‘special treatment’, he told you firmly you were never a bother, and that any time you want to come in to let him know because he’d make sure to get you the best spot in the house and of course you’d never pay him to eat there.

When you asked why he looked at you like you had 3 heads before telling you “cus’ you’re you, it’s my restaurant, and in my restaurant, you don’t pay- got it?” that was the end of the conversation.

“About…I dunno- y’my girl…but I’ve never really told anyone other then you before.” He said and your heart flutters.

His girl.

He’d never said that before - put a claim on you. You’re his girl, now. Not just a girl he’s seeing, not just a ‘friend’ which had been the running name you’d both used to describe your relationship, even though there was always a beat of awkward silence after the word came out of either of your mouths.

“I’m your girl” you repeat and he sits up on his forearm and looks at you

“You seein other people?” He asked seriously.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No Carmy. You have been the only person for…” you stopped, not wanting to embarrass yourself. You had known you wanted something serious with him from the start but were too embarrassed to admit it. “Some time now. So - yes. What about this do you want people to know?” You asked

“I wanna tell people about you…about us - that we’re- y’know..goin’ steady..is that alright?”

You nodded, a big smile forming on your lips. “Yes. Yes- tell anyone you want to. Can I too?” You asked

In response he turned on his side, pulling you to him and kissing you deeply. His tongue swiped along your lower lip, nose nudging the side of yours gently. You opened your mouth for him, tasting toothpaste and mouthwash on his tongue, you hum softly as you felt his hot breath fan your upper lip in a satisfied huff when your hand found his curls, gently massaging the back of his neck.

His calloused hand finds your lower back, pushing up his white shirt that you’d stolen from his hamper that smelt so distinctly of him you couldn’t help but wear it so when he left you too early in the morning it still felt as if he was with you. He loved seeing you wear his clothes, it drove him insane thinking about you, in his apartment, sleeping in his bed, wearing his shirt. It took up a lot more mental space in the mornings then he’d care to admit.

He rolled the lace hem of your faded patterned strawberry panties that Carmy adored. Even though you were getting warm from all the excitement, goosebumps still appeared on your skin from his gentle caress over your stomach before dipping his fingers in the fabric. You, without even needing to think about it, lifted your thigh for him and he cupped your heat for a moment with his hand, squeezing you with a light pressure.

You whined into his mouth, slack jawed from the contact, and you were no longer kissing eachother but more like breathing into eachothers mouths with the sucking of tongue and lips from Carmy. He spread you out with his forefinger as well as his ring finger, a wet click sound following the action. He dipped his middle finger over your dripping hole and you shiver, a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

He kissed down your chin, to your jaw, to your neck as he teased your entrance with the pad of his finger. You were a pathetic whimpering mess beneath him already, his hands always made you this way. “Please” you whimper and he kissed your jaw as his finger trailed over your exposed clit from having you spread so well with his fingers, even the gentle movement causing your hips to jerk and a cry to leave your throat

“Mmm always so sensitive f’me” he said, gathering more of the wetness from your pussy that was beginning to drip down the curve of your ass and gush with his movements. You gasp as he slathers that wetness over your bud, before easily rubbing his finger back and forth over it as he sucked a bruise into your collarbone.

Your hips rut into his hand, strings of curses mixed between saying his name until he sticks that middle finger inside with no resistance due to how wet you were, upon entrance his finger made a schlick noise as you were essentially sucking him in, like your pussy itself was begging how you were. “Christ” he muttered into your skin, pumping his finger in and out slowly, curling it every so often in search of that spot.

“Please please- another one” you begged and he adds his ring finger, curling them up together and you nearly sob your knees coming together subconsciously

“Open ‘em baby, c’mon lemme make you cum yeah?” He used his other hand to ease your legs apart to realize your thighs were quivering. “Y’bein such a good girl right now lettin me play w’you.” He said hotly in your ear, rubbing over your shaking thigh sweetly as he curled his fingers into the same spot, pressing with increasing pressure and with his palm, massaging your clit.

Your back arched off the bed, grabbing his forearm with one hand and the sheets with the other, gripping them both tightly and your walls flutter around him. “That’s it. Go ahead pretty girl. My pretty girl” he kissed your forehead gently, and the tender gesture mixed with being called his was enough to throw you into an orgasm that had you seeing stars behind your lids as you cry out his name.

Seeing you this way was his favorite part of the day, and it was so good that he sacrificed at least half an hour of his 5 dedicated to sleeping for it. So good, in fact, that seeing you squirm and writhe, mixed with you sobbing out his name and rambling about how only he has ever made you feel so good, and that you wished you could have him all the time - and his now sticky fingers he was able to palm his cock a few times, before sucking the slick off his fingers - the combination of all of that made him cum in his boxers like a teenager.

You hear him whimper at the tail end of your orgasm and you open your eyes to see him gripping his cock with creamy wet boxers, sucking on his fingers so much there was drool dripping down his chin. You couldn’t help but drop your jaw at how hot the sight was, the way his abs clench and unclench, the way his stomach tightens and releases as the waves of his climax crash over him. He was beautiful.

It wasn’t like you could help yourself. You sat up a bit and got on your knees, he didn’t notice because he was still in the thick of it - and straddled his calf. Now he noticed. “What are you-“ he’s interrupted by your nose in the crook of his thigh and his cock, breathing in the salty heady scent of his cum before taking the fabric in your mouth and sucking, looking up at him with big doe eyes through your lashes.

“Oh my god” his eyes nearly rolled in the back of his head, his jaw dropping at the sight before him. “You are gonna fuckin’ kill me” he said and you smiled a bit as you suck down the sweet salty flavor. His cock jumped at the action and you pulled the fabric up between your teeth, tugging down and his cock flopped out onto his stomach, half hard from your antics.

“Can I help you clean up?” You asked sweetly and he bit back a whimper at such an innocent voice being used to ask such a filthy question.

“Uh-“ he swallowed thickly, looking at your chin that was glistening with the sticky cum from his boxers “If- if I can clean you up after” he countered and you nod.

“Sounds like a deal” you said and gently took him in your dominant hand, licking a stripe from base to tip enjoying the way he twitched under your tongue. He bit his lip, sucking a breath through his teeth at the sensitivity so you eased up on the pressure of your tongue when you got to his tip, humming softly when it spurts out a little glob of pre, almost in thanks.

“Wow- you can go again? Already?” You asked amazedly and he shook his head quickly

“Fuck no - hell fuckin’ no, this’ as hard as ‘m’gettin’ it would hurt t’go like this“ he said and you pout a bit.

“Darn, would’ve been fun” you said and resumed rubbing your tongue over his length that was jumping and twitching at your stimulation. “Feels good though right?” You ask and he hums, in a way that almost sounded like a whimper but he clears his throat to cover it

“Mmhmm- feels- feels really good” he said and you smile, rubbing your lips over his vein that ran on the side, dipping your tongue between your lips to feel the girth of it. After a few more minutes of sucking and licking, and a few flicks of your tongue - he gently pats your head “think ‘m clean” he said a bit breathlessly and you looked up at him.

“You sure? I don’t wanna miss any spots” you joked and he chuckled

“I’m sure. And I want my turn now” he said and you wipe your drooly mouth on his hip and giggle before laying down and peeling off your soaked panties, thankful they were coming off because they were becoming uncomfortable - and chucking them who knows where.

“Ah, thanks f’usin me as a napkin very kind” he jokes and fixed his boxers before laying on his stomach in front of you, putting a thigh on each shoulder and essentially hugging your hips, supporting himself with his elbows and going to work right away.

He kissed over your thighs, up your wet sensitive lips to your mound, placing a gentle kiss there as well and gently nibbling on the pad of fat there. “I fuckin love this” he said, sucking on the mound of flesh. You giggled a bit, crossing your ankles together and watching him as he gazes up at you intently.

“You’re nibbling on me like a dog” you gently rub over his hair and scratch his scalp to which he hums in appreciation and licks you over, swirling his tongue over your clit and flicking it. You shivered at the action, thighs cupping his face and he pulled away a bit

“Please don’t make my ears pop” he chuckled, his hot breath ghosting over your heat in a way that made your toes curl.

“Sorry - sorry baby” you loosened your grip and pet his hair gently as he continued to devour your folds, slurping and sucking and lapping up all the wetness you had to offer. You moaned and whimpered, watching him as he dragged his tongue back and forth over your clit, resting his palm face up on your belly. You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers together over your abdomen.

“You’re so pretty Carmy” you praise, your other hand playing with his now sweaty curls from everything going on “such pretty eyes” you said softly and he hums gently, nuzzling your clit with his nose as he fucks you with his tongue, lapping up your walls from the inside as well. Your belly tightens, hips arching slightly off the bed “fuck baby I’m close” you told him and his eyes flutter shut in bliss, kissing your clit gently before sucking on it.

Your orgasm washed over you like a gentle, warm wave washing you out to sea. You hummed happily as your thighs shook, core clenching and fluttering around his tongue as he worked you through it, stroking your thigh gently. “So good- always so good bear” you said tiredly and kiss his hand. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment as he licked a stripe up your core to finish you off, before kissing your thigh sweetly.

You then felt him wipe his soaking wet chin and mouth on the inside of your thigh, and your eyes flicker back open to see him smirking teasingly. “What? S’just payback!”

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madlittlecriminal · 11 months ago

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can we have some jonathan crane head cannons / fluff with him and his gf having a big age gap?? (she’s like 19/20 just starting college and i’m assuming he’s like 30 something lol) anyway, ily thank u ❤️‼️💕

Age Gap ↦ Jonathan Crane × Female!Reader [headcanons]

i love you too, anon! :) i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: age gap (reader is 20, Jonathan is 30), reader majors in psychology, slight angst

You two met after he came to give a speech on psychology to your major.

He was intrigued by your questions, and you had developed a crush based off looks and his knowledge on psychology.

While it was your first semester, you knew he was smarter than your professor, who looked like took the job as a last resort.

Jonathan gave you his email in case you had more questions as he had to leave.

He wasn't going to lie though; you left a mark on him.

You were so invested in fear and his opinions even though you could ask your professor these questions.

Then again, it's been 10 years that he was in college, so professors probably changed since then.

You waited about a week until you emailed him.

You left this man anticipating your email and when he finally got it, he actually smiled.

"I have a question about your talk."

"What was the question?"

Did you go overboard with the questions?

Well, you sent him more than one which had him chuckling.

From there, you went to him for questions until it led to more.

He ended up giving you his number and you two began texting often.

He knew of the 10-year age gap between the both of you.

He was cautious at first, but he couldn't lie about the way his heart raced whenever your message came through.

You also couldn't deny how you always giggled like a kid on Christmas when he messaged you.

After about 3 months of chatting, you two made it official.

He'd take you out on little dates when you two had free time

He'd help you study for an exam for your psychology class and would reward you with a kiss on the forehead if you'd get the answer right.

If you'd tell him your grade, he'd hug you, kiss your cheek and say, "I'm proud of you, darling."

He'd then buy your favorite snack and give you cuddles.

If you had a low grade, he'd say, "I know you tried your best, darling. Don't worry. You'll get the next one."

And he'd still buy you your favorite snack and he'd still give you cuddles.

The same outcome for both because he can, and he will.

He never drew the line with you, and he was extremely patient.

If there was something you didn't like or didn't want to do, he'd understand and wait for you.

Then you found his mask.

Was it a test?

Possibly.

He's convinced whatever force was out there didn't want to see him happy.

He didn't know what it was, but you didn't look happy.

Which made him unhappy as well.

"I need time."

He froze as you rested the mask on the table before stepping out of his apartment and back to your apartment.

He gave you time, but he wouldn't as he did worry.

After all, he felt like it was his fault if this relationship ended.

But you called him a week later and told him you were ready to talk.

You two met up at a cafe, but he still listened to you.

You told him you were upset that he didn't trust you with this.

He said he couldn't risk anything happening to you.

You were still a bit cautious, but you gave him another chance.

It took time for you to get used to his Scarecrow counterpart, but eventually you did.

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x y/n #scarecrow #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow x you #scarecrow x y/n #dc universe #dceu #reader insert #x reader

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m1d-45 · 1 year ago

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Literally a lurker on your blog since ur early days but too shy to slide into ur ask box, hiii!!! I keep seeing cryo anon and teddy anon's brainrots and asks,,,, and like, regarding post impostor AU hehe

imagine after the hunt when your fave character/vessel begs you for forgiveness the most, practically turning their voice hoarse from their pleas to share just a bit of your mercy....

(you never showed your face to them, even when they were your most favored. how selfish of them, wanting more than they could ever deserve. but they can't help it. if you wanted them to die a thousand times over to repent, they would. just please, look at them again.)

post imposter au always tickles an itch in my brain I've never known existed. angry creator? boiling hot rage creator for their acolytes killing them when they've shown nothing but love and kindness for this world?? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP LORD

I wanna see guilt. And I mean GUILT. it's probably cause I'm petty asf and if I would be killed over and over and over again only for them to realize I'm not the fake I would literally lock myself up in whatever tower they built for me and never talk again. Creator's trust? Shattered, irreparable. Followers? Wallowing in the despair.

Thank u and goodbye heh. If it's not too much, can I be called Marcotte anon? Hehe fontaine reference hhhh,, anyways have a good day ily and ur fics <3

post-hunt can be incredibly good, entirely agree

the love you felt for the world is so strong already, and it only grows as you finally get to teyvat. being here, feeling the elemental energy, feeling the world greet you as you return after your rest.. what hate is more powerful than a love turned rotten?

you hid behind your veil, uncertain if you’re protecting yourself or them. it hurts to see their eyes tearing up as they plead, but what else are you to do? your hands shake when they draw close, and you can’t erase your own memory.

(you’d know. you asked nahida about it, but she’d only shaken her head. all she could do was clear the memories of teyvat, but not yours. it hurt, but was probably for the best.)

(despite it being a failure, that day was the calmest you’d felt in weeks. she was easy to talk to, and made lovely tea. perhaps you should visit again, if only to take a break from… everything.)

your solitude is comfortable, most of the time. a few of the hunters are a bit too comfortable with their sin, and are the ones tasked with bringing you food and other necessities. it’s not much better, though, since you can still see the guilt sinking in their eyes.

it’s a lose-lose all around. you want to see them, you want to see the world, but every leaf and branch is stained with the memories of the past, what used to be your favorite retreat now something else to hide from.

part of you is angry. furious at how easily they were tricked. it’s hard to stay mad at those you love, though, so you end up sitting in your window and watching the wind blow safely behind glass. your tea is from inazuma, this time, the faint edge of bitterness keeping you from sinking too far into much of anything.

leaves dance in the breeze. you won’t be seen again until they’ve long turned brown.

#i am. so sorry i meant to post this like three days ago fuck-#i’m normal and have normal working memory i swear #m1d : [chats]#marcotte anon #fontaine :]#also i’ll #m1d : [sweethearts]#sorry if this isn’t what you wanted i just be sayin words #hmm i was gonna say i’m gonna write for fontaine again but i think that would be too repetitive—#(i have made over 80 formal posts. of course i’m gonna be slightly repetitive)#two cakes it’s two cakes it’s TWO CAKES #as a reader it’s ‘i want thirteen exactly like this’ but as an author it’s ‘this was vaguely similar to something i posted a year ago :(‘#not technically a year but WHATEVRR #anyway anyway anyway um. freminet <3 #he’s got that flavor #god he just like me fr #i will build him or so help me god #i will be PRODUCTIVE TODAY i will be PRODUCTIVE TODAY i WILL i WILL

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sentientgolfball · 1 year ago

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can u pls do ummmm um dew/reader/rain :3 mayb a little jealousy smth smth ....... and like ummmm mayb things get a little wild or smth like idk ! hope this helps thank u champion <3

Next time you want me to write smut ask me out loud instead of sauntering into my ask box as an anon (jk ily but if you don't give me more substance next time i'll beat u <3)

Anyways possessive Rain is the best and you cannot boo me cause I'm right

MDNI 18+ my requests are open !

“And what’s this lovely Sibling doing all alone?”

“Working, Dew. Ever heard of it?”

You grabbed another crate of books and moved between the rows of shelves hoping to put some distance between you and the fire ghoul. You pushed the row on the shelf in front of you to make room for the newest editions and sighed when you were met with Dew’s smug little face peeking back at you.

“What a shame. I was looking for someone to play with and all that came to mind was you.”

“How romantic.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved the stack in your hand into place obscuring his face. You felt a small smile creep onto your face hearing the softest little whine from him, but it quickly fell when he rounded the corner. You crossed your arms as he closed the distance between you two. He was so close you could feel the heat that seemed to always be rolling off of him.

“Come on, all work and no play makes you a bad Sibling.” He trails a claw up your forearm. You have to fight the shudder you can feel pricking just under your skin. You’d be damned if you gave him the reaction he wanted.

You look at him with your best bored expression “If you want to fuck someone so bad I’m sure Phantom would be delighted to have you.”

You watched his eyes start to glow with the mention of the quintessence ghoul’s name. You felt a little proud of yourself for knowing just how to get under Dew’s skin. He stepped back from you with a dramatic sigh, throwing his head back.

“You really are no fun. Explains why Rainy took such a liking to you.”

That little fucker.

You don’t get the chance to reply before he walks past you towards the main doors of the library. You tense feeling the spade of his tail brush the side of your thigh. You swear you hear a snicker before you’re completely alone again. You groan and lean against the shelf you were working on when you hear the heavy doors open and then close. For the past few weeks, you have been having encounter after encounter with Dew that pretty much follows the exact same formula. He annoys you, asks you to fuck, and then leaves when you say no, but not before he gets some type of reaction out of you. It’s a game to him and despite constantly turning him down you couldn’t help but feel like you were the one losing. You had no idea what you did to gain the little fire ghoul’s attention, but you did know he was starting to draw you in. You hated yourself for even thinking that, but there was no denying it.

Actually, scratch that.

You knew exactly what you did to get his attention. It’s because you had gotten Rain’s attention. The water ghoul tends to spend a lot of his free time split between the lake and the library. A few months ago he had begun to appear during the shifts you worked. He didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, just sat in his usual spot and flipped through whatever he was currently reading. That didn’t stop you from staring, though. You had always thought he was a sight to behold, the way his blue-grey skin rippled like a pool when the sunlight hit him just right or how his fangs would poke out from under his lip when he was wholly absorbed in his story. You were enamored by him. All your feelings came to a head one day when he caught you throwing glances in his direction. He came over to you and you were sure he was going to call you out or tell you off, but all he did was introduce himself and ask if you wanted to know what he was reading.

From that point on, you and Rain had started to hang around each other more often. At first, it was innocent enough. Simply gushing to each other about the latest books you’ve read or sharing the gossip heard around the Ministry, but then hands started to wander. He’d give these little touches that would make your stomach flip and skin feel electric. He’d say these little things that made you overanalyze every conversation later that night in the shower. You’d squirm and he’d go on like nothing was happening, as if he didn’t know exactly what effect he had on you. It all tipped over the edge one night when he pulled you into an alcove after midnight mass panting about just how badly he needed you. The thought was quickly interrupted by a pair of ember-like eyes burning holes into your soul.

That was about the time Dew started to pop into your life. That was also the last time Rain tried for secrecy. Ever since then, he had been very outward about his affection, about his fondness for you. He even began taking to staying in your room a few nights out of the week. Your life soon became overrun with the near-constant presence of two ghouls. At first, it was almost like a dream come true, but now it was just your personal nightmare. As Rain got more possessive Dew got more insistent. It was getting to be a bit overwhelming if you were being honest.

Maybe I’ll talk to Rain about it…oh fuck Rain!

You checked the time on the grandfather clock that sat near the fireplace in the library and cringed when you heard the bells chime before you even finished reading the face. You were late. It was supposed to be one of your little date nights, something he insisted on doing recently, but you completely missed the meeting time. You hadn’t realized just how long you’ve been unpacking all the new books that were ordered. You groaned and moved the half-empty crate behind the front desk deciding it’ll be easier to just deal with the rest tomorrow. You left the library in a hurry to get back to your room. You’d be quick. You would just change out of your uniform and sprint to the lake no problem at all.

You paused when you were outside of your door. You leaned in closer and furrowed your brow in confusion. Either you were crazy or someone was in your shower. You carefully opened the door and crept in. You immediately sighed in relief when you saw Rain’s clothes draped over the chair at your desk. Of course he wouldn’t go to the lake without you first. You flopped onto the bed after changing out of your habit, idly scrolling your phone waiting for him to finish. You didn’t dare open any of the messages from Dew. The sound of the shower turning off made your head pop up. It wasn’t long before the door opened with a puff of steam and Rain walking out with nothing on but his sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He didn’t look surprised to see you sitting there in the slightest.

“Did you use all the hot water?”

“You could’ve joined me.” He shrugged with a smile before sitting down next to you, pulling you to his side.

“I take it we’re not going to the lake anymore?”

“Nah it’s too cold for that now.”

“I’m sorry I got caught up at work and–”

“Don’t be sorry sweet thing. We still have the rest of the night together.”

“But–”

You were cut off by him leaning down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck, planting a light kiss there. You tensed when you felt him pull away and sit up. His expression was unreadable.

“You smell like Dew.”

Here we go.

“Yeah he came to visit me at work…like always.”

“What did he want?”

“Oh, the usual. Asking me to fuck him and then making fun of you.”

He looked at you expecting you to continue. It wasn’t hard to tell you had something else on your mind. You played with his fingers as you spoke the next part.

“Rain what is going on with you two? He hasn’t left me alone since you started spending more time with me.”

Rain rolled his eyes “That’s just how he is. He has to have everything I have. He wants everything I want.”

“So it really is just a game to him?”

“More or less, why do you ask?”

You couldn’t explain it. The quick sinking feeling you got when Rain said this. Of course, you had always had that thought in your mind that Dew was just toying with you, but having it confirmed by the one who knew the fire ghoul better than anyone else made you feel strange. You shook your head trying to shrug it off, but Rain didn’t let it go. He turned fully towards you, putting a hand over yours.

“You wanted it to be more than a game, didn’t you?”

You floundered for a response, not entirely sure how to answer that. He laughed and it sends a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze and you see something dark, almost predatory there.

“I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s not going anywhere near you” he leaned in close and dragged his fangs over your pulse point “I’ll make sure of that.”

~~~

Everything only got worse from there. Rain now spent all of his free time in the library pretending to read while he watched you work. Any time Dew showed up you could hear the low growl from across the room. This only spurred Dew on. He would talk to you louder than necessary while making eye contact with Rain the entire time. You were mortified the day he commented on the fresh bruises and bite marks that peaked above the collar of your uniform. You were entirely prepared to see Rain attempt to kill him. That day didn’t come for a while, though.

It all happened so quickly. Dew has been uncharacteristically quiet all day. Simply watching you and occasionally actually helping you. Rain had been on the same page for ten minutes. And then it happened. You almost fell carrying the last of the massive crates of books and Dew was right there. He caught you just before you face-planted into the nearest shelf, holding you closer than needed asking if you were alright in a low voice. You didn’t get the chance to answer before you heard a chair scraping against the floor and Dew was yanked off of you. You watched Rain drag Dew out of the library by the back of his neck, tail lashing as he went.

That was the last you saw of both of them for the next 24 hours. The only thing that stopped you from believing Dew was dead at the bottom of the lake was that no new announcement regarding ghoul summonings was made. Your last straw was when you went to the feast hall and the ghoul table was noticeably empty. You decided that you were going to march down to the ghoul den, find Rain and Dew, and demand an explanation. But that was easier said than done.

You found yourself standing outside of the den. You had been standing for about ten minutes now. All your confidence drained the moment you saw the ornate doors with various claw marks on them. You were about ready to say fuck it and turn around when you heard shouting. The voices very clearly belonged to Dew and Rain. Well, you assumed it was Rain because all you could hear was the angry snarls of the fire ghoul. You pressed closer to the door to make out what they were saying.

“I don’t understand why you’re so pissy about this! It’s not like this is the first time we’ve shared a Sibling!”

“Oh please. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. Sharing. The great Dewdrop doesn’t share. He takes what he wants without considering for a moment anyone or anything but himself.”

“Aww you think I’m great.”

You jump back when you hear the sound of feet stomping closer to the door.

“Yeah Yeah go run and hide at the bottom of the lake. Maybe I’ll visit your sweet thing while you’re moping.”

The door flies open and you stare dead ahead at Rain’s chest, too scared to meet his gaze. You can feel him staring down at you. Your face flushes when you hear Dew cackle.

“Or maybe they’ll visit me.”

Rain hisses and there’s a moment of silence before his hand brushes your cheek. It trails down under your jaw as he tilts your head up to look at him. You feel your stomach drop to the floor when you’re met with that blank face that’s impossible to read. Just over his shoulder, you can see Dew staring at you with his head slightly tilted and a grin plastered on his face. Rain’s voice pulls your attention back to him.

“What are you doing here?” he says softly, genuinely.

“I…came to find you and Dew. I was worried when you both disappeared after what happened in the library.”

“Aww did you hear that Rainy? They were worried about me.”

Rain’s eyes narrow as he removes his hand from your face and grabs your wrist. He begins to leave the den and you have to dig your heel in to not be dragged along with him. When he feels the resistance he stops to turn and look at you confusion written all over his features.

“No” You’re feeling a lot bolder than you were five minutes ago “No. That’s not all. I have no idea what’s going on between you two but you need to kiss and make up. I’m tired of being dragged into the middle of this.”

“What’s going on is Dew cannot fathom the idea that I have interests that aren’t him.”

“I think what you mean to say is ‘I’m a possessive bitch who can’t stand it when the great Dewdrop looks at anything that’s not me’.”

Dew’s words and the glare from Rain make you have a sudden realization. This was never Dew’s game. It was Rain’s. You think back to all the encounters you had with Rain before the day he pulled you into that alcove and realize Dew had always been there. You now understand why he became a presence in your life after that moment. At this point though, you couldn’t care less about which ghoul wanted who or what. You were tired of their petty little pissing contest.

“Okay,” You rub the bridge of your nose “What’s it going to take to get you two off my ass and to treat each other like friends again?”

“You really don’t have to do anything. It’ll cool over like it always does.”

“Rain I am sick and tired of being in the middle of this.”

“You know, I have an idea. But I don’t think Rainy will be too thrilled about it.”

Rain growls at him and you too have an understanding of what that idea is.

“Lord’s below Rain if all it takes is letting Dew get his dick wet then what's the problem.”

“The problem is he can’t stand when it’s anyone else but him.”

“Can it Dewdrop,” you turn to look at Rain who looks ready to break something but the slight blush on his face betrays his thoughts “Would it help if you were there?”

“Ooo we picked a freaky one! Come on wet boy they’re literally asking for it.”

Rain sighs “You really wanna do this?”

“If it’ll get things back to normal then yes. Very much so.”

You did not realize how fast it would all move when you said those little words. The doors to the ghoul den were slammed shut as Rain stalked close to you with that hunter’s gaze. You were suddenly very aware of how easily it would’ve been for Rain to just get rid of you if he really didn’t want Dew around you. You start to back away from him but you end up bumping into Dew’s chest. You feel his hands wrap around your middle and his breath against your ear.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Rainy’s always liked the chase. Why do you think it took him so long to fuck you? It wasn’t just because of me.”

You yelp feeling yourself be quickly lifted off the ground by the little ghoul. He taunts Rain the whole way to his bedroom. You briefly wonder how many times this exact situation has happened when you see the look on Rain’s face. You don’t have much time to consider it before you’re being thrown rather unceremoniously onto a bed. You barely have enough time to blink before Dew is sitting between your legs.

“Alright dear Sibling, last chance. If you wanna leave just say the words and that’ll be it.”

You feel the mattress dip as Rain sits against the headboard. You look up at Dew and see his burning gaze and you come to find you want this a lot more than you previously thought. You gave Dew the go-ahead and that was all he needed. He practically pounced on you the moment ‘yes’ left your mouth. He kissed you harshly before nipping your bottom lip with his fangs. You gasped and he used this to slip his forked tongue into your mouth. He licked into you feverishly before making an attempt at shoving his tongue down your throat. His mouth never left yours as his hands traveled from your hips to your neck. He flexed his claws against your skin each time you moaned into his mouth.

You reach for him, trying to bring him closer to you, but the moment you do he is ripped from you. You whined in confusion as Rain pulled him off of you and onto him. You watched the way Rain pulled his head back by his hair exposing his neck. He squirmed and gasped as Rain kissed and bit at the scars on his neck. Dew reached a hand out and pushed lightly on Rain causing him to stop and gaze at him.

“Come on Rainy don’t be rude to our guest. I thought you liked your sweet thing?”

You looked away when Rain’s eyes landed on you. He smoothed a hand over your head, letting it continue down your back and under your shirt. You shudder at his cool touch and finally look up at him. He grins when he has your attention before darting forward and biting hard into Dew’s neck. He gasps and ruts ever so slightly onto Rain’s thigh as the water ghoul laps at the wound before any blood can dribble down. He pulls back and hums in satisfaction at the mark.

“Now you can play with him.”

He practically dumps him back on top of you. He doesn’t move from his spot sitting next to you against the headboard as Dew straddles your hips and pulls your shirt off. He latches himself to your neck as he drags the tips of his claws down your body to rest just above your hip bone. You can feel his tail snake into the bottom of your shorts, the tip of the spade creeping closer and closer to your clit. You gasp when it pushes past the fabric of your underwear and slides so slowly through you. He kisses up your neck and jaw as his tail flicks small circles over you.

You squirm as the spade traces gently over your hole before pushing in. Your moan is immediately swallowed by Rain bringing his lips to yours. He reaches over you and cups one of your breasts in his hand, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You try to concentrate on kissing Rain back but all you can focus on is the feeling of Dew’s tail dragging against your walls. Rain gasps and pulls back from you squeezing your chest harshly. You crack open an eye to Dew’s hand shoved down Rain’s sweats jerking him as he fucks you with his tail. You see something dangerous flash across Rain’s face as his eyes flick from you to Dew.

He swats the fire ghoul’s hand away and shoots up, grabbing him by the wrists. You yelp as he’s quickly pulled off of you when Rain flips their positions. He pulls Dew’s ass up by the hips and pulls his pants off him.

“I still think you’re being mean Rainy.” He wiggles his ass back against Rain’s dick. Rain peers over at you before pulling Dew flush against his chest by his hair.

“Get under him.”

You shift around until you’re laying on your stomach looking up at the two ghouls.

“Now suck it.”

You slowly bring your lips to the head of his cock and push the tip into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the slit before taking more of him. Dew’s breathy pants turn into moans as the slick sounds of Rain pushing into Dew fill the room. You had no time to prepare before Rain thrusts brutally into Dew causing him to be pushed to the back of your throat. You gag and the fire ghoul whines as your muscles contract around him. His hand shoots to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair guiding you up and down his dick.

He barely has to move you as Rain keeps up a devastating pace. Dew’s head is thrown back against Rain’s shoulder with his tongue hanging out of his mouth too blissed out from getting fucked from the back and the front. You have to focus on breathing through your nose as every thrust from Rain pushes Dew to the back of your throat. You work your tongue over the vein on the underside of his cock. It’s all you can do feeling the ache in your jaw and your forearms from holding yourself up.

You hear Rain hiss something in Infernal and it’s the only warning you get before you feel Dew spill hotly down your throat. You fight off a gag at the suddenness of it.

“You better swallow all of it. Don’t waste a drop of him.”

You do just as you're told and pull off of him with an obscene pop unable to hold yourself up anymore. It doesn’t take much longer before the sound of skin slapping against skin stutters and Rain grunts biting into Dew’s neck again as he cums deep inside of him. Dew flops forward next to you when Rain pulls out of him. The water ghoul runs his fingers through his hair and wraps his tail loosely around your wrist. Dew reaches over and squeezes your hand before turning his head to look at you.

Eventually you all roll around until Rain is between both you and Dew, holding you close. You feel yourself drifting off soothed by the sounds of the ghoul’s purrs, that is until you feel Dew squeeze your hand again. You look across to him and get a bad feeling from the glint in his eye. He slowly untangles himself from Rain and crawls over to you. He runs his claws over your thighs.

“Dew…” you warn, glancing up at Rain who appears to be sound asleep.

“Oh don’t worry about sleeping beauty. Just focus on me.”

You slap a hand over your mouth when his hand dips into your shorts. You closed your eyes and send a quick prayer to whoever was listening that Rain wouldn’t wake up to Dew doing his absolute best to pull you closer to your own edge.

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #raindrop ghost #rain x dewdrop #rain x reader #dew x reader #i hope you like it anon <3 #golfball writes

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2facedweirdo · 5 months ago

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Hey weirdo hope your trip and camp went well!!

My question is, what blogs/vns/creators do you like?

with tags so we know who ur talking to ofcourse!! have a good day!

hello!! My trips went well thank you!! hmmm….ok let’s see!

@campwillowpeak silly little vn with a pyromaniac,Gavin,Gavin’s friend and depressed dad <33 I love this game so much ngl

@mama- -sloth (I hope I wrote that right) AAAAAAA ILY SOO MUCH<33 HER HUMOR?!?! HELLO?!

@restartheartvn Ezra and Chris Ezra and Chris Ezra and Chri- I love this game, it has good storyline, good music and amazing characters!! Fun fact!! I headcanon kenneth as societyboy from blooming panic

@queenlilithprime SO SILLY PT2!! Amazing person in general tbh. They are honest, respectful, pretty just amazing friend ngl!! (Also happy restart heart anniversary!!)

@stnaf-vn. AHHHHH- again one of my very very favorites 🤭 it so fun and has amazing lore and art! Also Carter <3 (and friend of course but you know, Carter)

@itsya-boi never really talked much with yaboi ngl. But from what I’ve saw, they are also the best human alive! Would love to be friends with them, 10/10 human being right there

@you-and-him-vn Enemies to lovers with Chloe and Adam!! I love this game, THE LORE AND STORY HELLO??

@— unknown hermit as we all know hermit left so I’m not tagging her here, but I actually really liked hermit and think the didn’t deserve all the hate she got.</3

@thekrows-nest Krow!!!!!!1!1!1!1! Best boy right there!! Mwuah!! @winndycakes amazing person who has amazing art! They also helped me out when I got a hate anon along with @queenlilithprime which makes me value them even more. <3

@lavender-teardroplettes I.LOVE.SI ILY ILY ILY SOOOOOOO MUCH <33 my very first friend on this platform and I respect him for wanting to me friends with me!! I love him as a person again, genuinely 100/10 person right there 💗💗

@clownboymcchucklefuck Nothing can describe how much I love this person. THE SILLIENES??? SILLY!!

@fantasia-kitt 🤭🤭🤭 Now THIS is an amazing game who has a amazing future! Funfact2: I headcanon that my oc and hyugo are childhood friends!. As the creator however is also an amazing person you means well for their community. I hope the hiatus means well for them

@darqx AHHHHHHHHH. Every time I see a demon man that’s tall I.just.scream!! I love rire <3 as for darqx however I’m surprised that both of the other creators of btd got in scandals while draqx is still standing, impressive!

@robobarbie although I sti haven’t played seekL yet, I immediately know it’s gonna be a good game because robo made it. For blooming panic however, *deep breath* AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. IT HITS THAT ONE PART OF MY BRAIN AND SCRATCHES IN A WAY THATS ADDICVE. I also like their humor!

ANYWAYS LITTLE MUSHROOMS BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THESE BLOGS I WILL BE MAKING A PART 2 IF THIS CAUSE ITS TOOOO LONG AND IM TIRED!! SEE U LATERSSSS

Btw all games and blogs mentioned are amazing people and games check them out pls <3

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uhohdad · 4 months ago

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just finished rereading TGWCM for the umpteenth time! i absolutely adore all of your fics so please take your time :))

on the topic of TGWCM, if we were to go full on angst in true hunger games fashion (please don’t i beg you plsplsplspls), imagine if recordings of reader and konig’s AHEM AHEM were illegally distributed/obtained by rich capitol people, thus leading to a lot of people thirsting over konig. poor konig is then subjected to finnick’s fate of being a victor - sold to the highest bidder.

imagine he then finds out the distribution of said recording, one of his only precious memories with reader, being part of the reason of his fate.

(and maybe his only solace is rewatching said recording of the whole game really but especially chapter three over and over in his darkest moments :(()

please don’t be evil and actually do this if you did it i would die BUT ALSO i would gobble it all up anyway so uhh…

-🪼 (if you do emoji anons, could i please have this one if its not taken?)

hi hi hi!!! thank you so much for sending this y’all know all i ever wanna do is talk about TGWCM!! <3 <3

This ask shook me to my core it’s like you kids are in my head euheuheuheu. i love hearing your takes/predictions/thoughts so much!! i absolutely will be touching on the seedy prostitution ring the victors have to deal with in the final chappy. heavy emphasis on ‘the games never actually go away’ in this one

the thought of our victor rewatching the tape because it’s all they have left of the other - ugh you’re breaking my heart. Konig feeling defiled and dirty, a sad, broken smile on his face. Tears in his eyes while some heartless capital bastard snores away in the next room after using him for his body. His thumb stroking reader’s ribbon as he rewatches his time with reader at the oasis, closing his eyes and pretending he’s there with her instead of in his cruel reality. OUCHIE!!!

the aftermath is at 30k words now and I still have so much to get through!! (might have to split this one up eeeep) no spoilers but that recording is definitely going to come back to haunt our victor 😈

thanks again for your ask lovely it’s so nice to hear your thoughts/predictions!!! ily ily ily and i’m so excited to share with you all!! thanks for being so patient with me!! <3 <3 <3

⌜ KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU ⌟

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 months ago

Text

Hero

found u on AO3 and loved u immediately, your writing style is incredible and i’ve binged all your stories :) crack request popped into my mind the other day and i thought i’d share—> the pinocchio phenomenon about “my nose will grow” (i’m sure you’re familiar) except for its the sides (prob logan bc experiment) trying it on janus- “janus will be summoned” or something to that effect idk ily please never stop writing <3 – bumblebea2712

Okay, so I've been thinking about something for a while. In your fic, Silver Box, where Roman has that box labeled 'Ego' with all the positive reinforcement in it? What if one of the things that gets whispered from it is when c!Thomas told Roman "you're my hero"? Like, especially with the angst from POF/SvS Redux. Thinking about how Roman misinterpret Janus' nod as 'Thomas is lying' when he actually meant that Thomas was still the truth when calling Roman his hero again. I wanna see Janus trying to correct him and be like "that nod meant he was telling the truth, he still thinks of you as his hero, he still cares about you", etc. Just some Roman, Janus, and c!Thomas angst all bundled up with hurt/comfort. I have THOUGHTS, and so I wanted to share :3 – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat

If you're up to requests rn, could we have a Sanders Sides fic where Thomas himself is actually present maybe? – anon

Hey, would you be interested in perhaps writing a story where Logan assumes Roman is stupid because he isn’t articulate, and one day Roman has enough and is trying so hard to explain to Logan why he’s wrong but he doesn’t know the right way to phrase things so he just ends up getting more and more upset while Logan isn’t listening? – anon

Hey! I love your work (I’m definitely a Roman angst enjoyer 😅, but all of it’s good!!). If you’re open to requests, I was thinking about the control that Patton has over Roman because like,, a prince fights for honor. For good. And who decides what those concepts mean? Patton does. In some way, he controls Roman’s narrative. Anyways, h/c with Roman and potentially protective Remus. Thank you for considering!! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self esteem issues, self doubt, slightly unsympathetic logan and patton

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5984

"What honor is there that I can find now? What—how do I know what is right anymore? I've been behind a sword for so long, I fear…I fear I'm forgetting who I am without it." His breath comes out shakier. "And I fear…if I were to ever try to explain this to someone who wasn't you, my words would come out so clumsy they would impale me on their rusted edges." "There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all." "If only it were something that would be listened to."

Thomas sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, I think—is that all we're gonna be able to get done today?"

"I have no qualms about continuing, but I do not think it would be productive."

"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you go around in circles again and again," Virgil groans, long ago giving up the pretense of standing and paying attention, his forehead pressed against the stairs railing, "just call it here and let us go."

"Now, kiddo, that's not a very sporting attitude!" Patton puts his hands on his hips. "If Thomas thinks we're all involved in this discussion, then there's no point if trying to discount your own importance."

"I'm not discounting my own importance, I'm questioning my relevance." He glares through a gap in the bars at Logan. "This whole thing isn't gonna make me think it's not worth being cautious about, no matter how much L tries to talk me out of it. I'm Anxiety. Literally it's my job to be irrational sometimes. By definition—"

"But we've previously established that you do have some semblance of logical reasoning at points, and this could very well be one of those points—"

"Okay." Thomas cuts Logan off with a wave of his hand. "I think—yeah, I think we're done. I'm sorry, Logan, but I don't—we're kind of at an impasse."

"Here's an idea." Virgil's hand flops lazily up in a parody of raising his hand. "Why don't we ask someone whose literal job it is to come up with ideas?"

Logan's nose wrinkles momentarily and he sighs. "I do not see the value in asking either Roman or Remus to weigh in on this discussion when it has nothing to do with them."

"Uh-huh, so you wanna try to do the create-an-idea thing without the Sides whose job it is to do that?"

"We are all capable of coming up with ideas, Virgil, Roman and Remus simply represent Thomas's Creativity."

"Oh, yeah?" Virgil heaves himself up onto an elbow. "When's the last time you came up with an idea for an experiment on your own?"

"Preposterous. I'm perfectly capable of coming up with my own experiments."

"Do it. Right now."

"We are in the middle of discussing—"

"No, no," Thomas says, "please, I could use a break from thinking about this."

Logan's mouth works for a second. "Very well. Let's see…ah. A spin on the Pinocchio paradox."

"The what?"

"The Pinocchio paradox. A simple thought experiment on what would happen if the character, Pinocchio, uttered the words: 'My nose will grow now.' An interesting thought, given that—"

"That his nose grows when he lies and if it does grow then he told the truth which means it wouldn't grow which means he lies, sure, sure, sure, what does that have to do with anything?"

Logan adjusts his ties and raises a finger. "Janus will now appear."

Everyone in the room pauses, listening for the telltale whoosh of a Side appearing. Which it does, a few seconds later, and Logan gets cuffed on the shoulder.

"What was that for?"

"I'm not an experiment," Janus says, a bit too amused to be an indictment, "and am perfectly capable of showing up to slap you for being an idiot."

"See? Experiment successful."

"That's not—okay." Thomas pinches the bridge of his nose. "Janus, while you're here, you might as well weigh in on this."

'"Being arbitrarily asked to choose a side with little to no context as to what the options are? My favorite." He claps his hands a few times. "What am I choosing between?"

"Would it be better if I responded to this email now, saying that I'm not available for a call for the rest of the day, or should I wait and just call back tomorrow when I am free?"

"Ooh, what an interesting dilemma. How badly will your life be impacted by a negative outcome to this call?"

"Don't fucking start with me, J," Virgil warns, studiously ignoring Patton's language, "I know you've been listening this whole time."

"Oh, you're no fun." Virgil tips him a lazy two-fingered salute and he sighs. "Very well. Thomas, do you want to respond to this now?"

Thomas frowns. "What? Isn't that what you all are here for?"

"We can manifest different parts of you trying to figure something out, but that doesn't mean you don't have your own thoughts about it that aren't us. What do you want to do?"

"This line of questioning is pointless. Thomas has established that he doesn't know what he wants and he's asked us—well, I suppose that now includes you—what to do."

Janus slides his gaze to Logan, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's awfully presumptuous of you, Logan."

"Thomas? Is that an inaccurate conclusion?"

"…I mean, not really."

Logan gestures at him. "See? There you are. Now, either we are agreeing to call the meeting here and simply wait until tomorrow, or we are going to rehash the same arguments from the past hour and quite frankly, I think there is a better use of our time."

"Why are the twins not here?"

"Excuse me?"

"The twins. The ones who are good at coming up with solutions to problems." Janus glances around. "They seem conspicuously absent from this meeting where we are trying to come up with a solution to something."

"That's what I was saying."

Logan sighs, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright, if you insist. I do not see what sort of valuable insight they will be able to give us, but if you all want to hear what they have to say, then I suppose I cannot object."

Thomas smiles and reaches out to summon Creativity. A moment later, Roman appears in front of the TV, wincing.

"Thomas?"

"Hey, Roman, we, uh, we were hoping you could help us out."

Roman rubs the back of his neck, glancing around the room. "Uh, sure. What, uh, what with?"

"Thomas is struggling to choose between responding to a missed phone call and voicemail with either an email today apologizing and explaining his availability tomorrow, or simply calling back tomorrow when he is immediately available," Logan says smoothly. "Which option do you think is preferable?"

Roman just blinks at him for a long second. When Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly, his shoulders hunch a little and he curls in on himself. "I, um, I don't know."

"Just as I suspected. Very well, thank you Roman, you may go."

"Wait, what?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Virgil says, sitting up, "that's not fair, he's been here, what, all of two seconds?"

"Yes, and has just admitted that he doesn't have an answer to us, which is not a productive way to continue this conversation, therefore he can go."

"Wait, Logan—" Thomas holds his hand out, silently asking Roman to stay, "can't we just—how's he gonna be able to actually give his opinion if he doesn't have time to make one?"

"Roman, are the facts I've given to you unclear?"

"Huh? N-no—"

"Do you believe you have a firm enough grasp of the situation to form a conclusion?"

"I mean, yeah, I get it, but—"

"And you still don't know what option you prefer?"

Roman's quiet for a moment, his outstretched hand slowly returning to his side. "…no."

Logan nods. "Settled, then."

"Come on, Logan," Janus says, frowning a little now, "just because you didn't want him here doesn't mean you can throw him away as soon as he's said one thing that vaguely aligns with what you wanted."

"First off, that's an incredible level of irony coming from you—" both Janus and Roman flinch— "and secondly, Roman, would you like to be part of this meeting?"

They all turn to look at Roman, who shuffles under their gazes. He keeps flicking his eyes up to Thomas, then to Patton, then to Janus, before staring back down at his hands. The buzzing of the fridge becomes oppressive. He winces and rubs the back of his neck again.

"Roman?"

"…not really."

"Then it's settled, then. Thank you for your input."

Roman glances once more at Thomas with something almost like longing before he sinks out again. Virgil, who'd been watching him closely, turns to frown at Logan. Logan adjusts his tie.

"If that's all, then, Thomas, would you still like to end the meeting here?"

"Yeah, let's…let's call it."

"Very well. I shall be available if you need me further." He sinks out.

Patton sinks out next, giving Thomas a quick thumbs-up before disappearing. Janus exchanges a brief look with Virgil before he's vanishing too, leaving just the two of them alone in the living room. Thomas puts his hands on his hips, staring at the spot where Roman was.

"So that was weird, right?"

"Yeah." Virgil grunts as he sits up, hands balled up in the pocket of his hoodie. "That…I've never seen them…do that before."

"Did Roman and Logan have a fight or something?"

"I don't think so? I mean, I've seen them argue about stuff, but they always do that and it didn't seem like it was any more, like, intense than usual, so I don't…I don't know why that happened." He shuffles. "I've also never seen Logan be that…short with Roman before."

"Yeah, like, he was here for literally, like—"

"Like two seconds—"

"And then Logan was telling him to go again. And did you notice how he kept looking—"

"At you?"

"At me, yeah, did—did I do something?"

"What? Shit, no, Thomas, I don't think that's it. I think—" he sighs— "look, he's not gonna be happy I'm telling you this, but Princey's been going through some stuff lately and I'm not sure exactly what it is but I know it's been weighing on him a lot."

Thomas frowns. "How so?"

"Well, let me put it this way: have you been daydreaming a lot more lately?"

He thinks. "Uh, yeah, I mean, I guess so, but I haven't been doing that much recently, which kind of makes sense, I guess?"

"Yeah, well, that's Princey in the Imagination." Thomas nods and Virgil gives him a pointed look. "I'm telling you that Princey's been going into the Imagination more."

"Yeah, that's—isn't that what he does?"

Virgil scrubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, it is, but not like this. Normally when he goes in, he's doing it to come up with ideas or work something out, or…something. But recently…"

"But recently that doesn't feel like what he's doing," Thomas finishes, chewing on his lip, "yeah, actually, now that you mention it, it does kind of feel…different. Like—like they're…"

"Comfort," Virgil finishes quietly when he can't quite put his finger on it, "it feels like a comfort."

"Roman's going into the Imagination to comfort himself?" Virgil shrugs. "Why?"

"Like I said, he's going through some stuff. It's not—I'm not all up on how the Imagination translates to whatever your daydreams end up being, but I don't think—Princey's not even telling us what he gets up to in there."

Thomas sucks in a breath. If there's one thing he's learned after listening to them talk about whatever goes on in the Mindscape when they're not with him, it's that Roman loves to regale them with tales of his adventures in the Imagination, even if it comes at the expense of whatever else they're doing. To hear that Roman's been going off more than usual and he isn't telling them about it? Worrying, to say the least.

"When did this start?"

Virgil blows out a breath. "After the wedding."

"Shit, that's…probably not good."

"Yeah."

They both stare at the black TV. A bit of dust gets caught in a gust from the vent and sticks to the corner.

"…he's my hero," Thomas says quietly.

"Huh?"

"He's my hero. Maybe he's…maybe he's going to the Imagination to do the things heroes don't get to do."

"Okay, you gotta break that down for me a little more."

"The heroes don't get to be vulnerable. They don't get to…to actually stop and rest, not really. They have to keep going, they have to…" Thomas swallows. When did this lump in his throat get here? "They're not—oh, god, am I gonna cry?"

"Shit, shit, shit, uh—do you want me to get Patton back?"

"N-no, no, don't—" for some reason the thought of Patton reappearing sends a bolt of fear straight through his chest and he knows Virgil feels it too, shooting to his feet and watching as Thomas stumbles back to the couch— "I—oh, god."

"Hey, hey, hey, buddy," Virgil says, voice soft and low as Thomas buries his face in his hands, "take it easy, okay? You're okay, you're safe in the house, everything's okay. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Just a nice, deep breath, you're okay, that's it, good, now let it out…nice, do it again…"

Virgil helps talk him slowly through the well of emotion suddenly bubbling just at the base of his throat, the breaths coming out shaky but steady. Absentmindedly, he puts a hand to his chest and starts rubbing in slow, firm circles. The pressure does something to the frantic and flighty part of him, helping to soothe him back from whatever brink he hadn't realized he'd walked to.

"Hey," Virgil calls a few minutes later, "you with me again?"

"Yeah, I think so." He takes a couple more seconds just to breathe it out. "Roman's—Roman's my hero, and I don't know if he knows that I…that I still want to listen to him."

"What do you mean?"

"Afterwards. When I—when we were all—when the stuff happened. He said that he thought he was my hero and I told him he was and then he…"

"Freaked," Virgil finishes when he can't, "yeah, I remember."

"I don't…I don't know why that made him so upset."

"Well, hey," he says when that lump starts to come back to his throat, "let's not have you worry about that right now, okay? You—let's go do something else that'll get your mind off of it. Go rewatch the Office bloopers again, that always works."

"Will you—can you keep an eye on him for me?"

"Yeah, Thomas, I can do that. Now c'mon, those bloopers aren't going to rewatch themselves."

***

Roman walks slowly through the woods as the fireflies twinkle around him. He lifts a hand to push aside a branch, stepping through the shadows to emerge onto the thin dirt path that winds through the base of the trees. As the darkness falls, the thin blue lines grow deeper, darker, blending together to weave across the grass as little critters scurry back and forth. The whistle of the wind accompanies the crunch of his footsteps as he makes his way toward the cabin.

Movement from around the side and the man emerges, wiping dirt from his hands with a rag. He looks up and smiles as Roman approaches.

"Roman," he greets, with his voice warm, "how good it is to see you."

"I see I'm a bit too late to help with the chores." He nods to the rag. "I don't mean to impose on you."

"Nonsense, old friend, nothing you do could possibly be an imposition. As it happens, I have a stew on that I won't be able to finish by myself and it would be a great favor to me if you were to help me."

Roman chuckles. "How could I refuse?"

The man holds a hand out to him as he nears, settling it on the curve of Roman's neck and pulling him close for a brief hug of sorts. Roman turns his cheek to rest against the curve of his jaw, breathing out shakily. The man lets out a comforting noise and his fingers card through the delicate hairs at the base of his head.

"Come inside, dear friend, let the fire warm you."

"The night is warm already."

"It is young still, and will grow cold," he says as he begins to lead them up the stairs, "and you look to be the type of cold that does not thaw even in the hottest sun."

"I worry for the state of the realm sometimes, if I am truly so transparent."

"Only to me, dear friend, and only because you have seen fit to allow yourself to be so with me." He's coaxed inside a modest cabin, sat at a simple hewn table as a rich smell fills the room. He closes his eyes to breathe it in, opening them again when the low thud of a bowl and tankard draws his attention. "Eat, please. You know I can't bear a less-than-full stomach under my roof."

"You're too kind to me."

"Nonsense." The hand fits itself around his head once more. "You are worth being kind to, and even more worth allowing me to care for you. Now, come on."

The stew is simple, hearty, and as filling as he could ever want. Under the table, their legs press together, boots against boots, knee against knee. The fire crackles in the hearth as the last of the light fades from outside. He can feel his shoulders beginning to relax, the line of his body growing looser, more languid.

When they've both eaten their fill and the dishes have been set away to deal with later, he sits on the floor near the hearth and stares into the flames. A warm hand lands on his shoulder and brings his head to rest against another, light touch trailing over the bare skin under his sleeve.

"What troubles you tonight, dear friend?"

"I don't want to impose—"

"Shh, none of that now. It's an honor to be troubled by your worries."

He turns his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of clean sweat, of spiced apple, of wood smoke. "I struggle to remember what it is I fight for."

Gentle nails along his scalp. "How so?"

"There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all."

"If only it were something that would be listened to."

"Hey." He's nudged until he can look up at the man's face. "You once told me that all you wanted to fight for was this. For the chance for one to sit, in the peace and safety, with those they care for, and have that be alright. Is this still true?"

"Yes. But I don't—I no longer know how to do that."

The man goes quiet, contemplative, running his fingers gently over the edge of Roman's face. The touch coaxes a lump to his throat, a tear to his eye, and the man lets out another comforting noise, pulling him closer.

"Rest for the night, please, dear friend. My bed is warm, my touch willing. You fear losing who you are without your sword? Put it down for the night, stay. Remind yourself of how to enjoy the thing you fight for."

"If only I could be as persuasive as you," he mumbles, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the touch, "then I might never need a sword again."

He chuckles. "Well, I don't know if I can do all that much, but I have learned how to persuade you, my dear, and that will serve me well enough."

***

"Roman?"

Roman turns, spotting Janus as he trudges back from the Imagination. "What're you doing awake?"

"I was waiting for you."

He winces. "Sorry, I, um, did we have something planned?"

"What? No, no, sweetie, nothing like that, I only—I wanted to talk to you for a moment."

A chill works its way up Roman's spine and he suppresses a shudder, walking slowly to his room and opening the door. Janus follows him in, carefully closing it behind them and waiting while Roman tucks something into a drawer on his desk and sitting down.

"What's up?"

"Are you…are you okay?"

He flinches slightly. "Why, um, why?"

Janus looks pained. He glances around and seemingly comes to a decision before sinking down to the floor, crossing his legs and sighing. "You…seemed very upset after earlier, and I wanted to come and ask you about it."

"Oh, no, I'm fine, I wasn't—Logan was right, I wasn't going to be useful in that conversation."

"The one you were in for all of three seconds before you were being shunted out of it again?"

Roman narrows his eyes. "You know, it is kind of ironic that you of all people are worrying about that right now."

Janus barely has time to process how he feels about that sentence before Roman's eyes are widening and he's leaning back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, that came out really rude, I didn't mean that."

"You did, and that's okay. No, no—really, it is okay, Roman, you don't have to pretend like I didn't hurt you—that I'm not hurting you when I do things like that. No, no—" he stands as Roman covers his face with his hands— "please, sweetie, just—just listen to me for a second, okay?"

Roman nods, his face still hidden. Janus hesitates for a moment before gloved hands come down to rest on his shoulders. He leans down and carefully, carefully presses his chin to the top of Roman's head. Roman shudders a little under the contact but stays still.

"You've been distant lately," Janus whispers, as though afraid of breaking the silence, "and that's not a bad thing, sweetie, but it's…it seems like it's hurting you. And I'm worried because Thomas isn't—I don't know what Thomas would do without you."

Roman stiffens and immediately he knows it was the wrong thing to say. "I won't let Thomas down again, I know what I'm doing. I'm just—I'm sorry I haven't been very present lately, but I'm—"

"No, no, that's not what I meant—wait, what do you mean, 'again?'"

Roman hunches his shoulders. "I know I'm not Thomas's hero anymore, okay? You don't need to keep acting like I'm—"

"Wait, wait, sweetie." Janus crouches down, cupping Roman's face in his hands. "What do you mean, you're not Thomas's hero anymore?"

"That's what you said! After the wedding, when he said—when I said—and you nodded! Like it was a lie!" He jerks away. "We don't need to pretend that didn't happen, okay? I remember, it's not like I could forget something like that."

"No, no, Roman—no, that's not what I meant, I didn't—it wasn't a lie."

Roman goes still. He stares at Janus for a long moment, long enough for a bit of a smile to come to his face, like Roman's actually listening to him. Then Roman's expression darkens and the voice that comes out of him is darker and more venomous than anything Janus has ever heard.

"Do not lie to me."

"R-Roman—"

"No." Roman pulls away, standing up, towering over him. "You will not lie to me. Not about that, not about anything like that. Use me as your puppet all you want, everyone knows I can't stop you, but I won't let you lie to me about this. Ever."

He's already fumbling to get his gloves off, surging up and grabbing Roman in a tight hug, so close he couldn't hope to get an inch of distance between them. "I'm not lying," he hisses, almost into Roman's nose, "I'm not lying about this, Roman, I'm not. Thomas wasn't lying. You're his hero. You still are."

"Stop it—"

"My gloves are off! I can't lie with my gloves off, Thomas loves you—you're his hero—"

"Stop it!" The words leave Roman in a breathless cry and Janus is left struggling to heft his weight as his knees buckle. "Stop it, stop it—stop it, it's not true, it can't be true, it's a lie—it—it has to be—"

"Why does it have to be, sweetie?" They're back on the floor, Janus smoothing hair back from Roman's flushed face, awkwardly holding him in his lap. "Why did it have to be a lie?"

"Because—because—" he sniffles— "nothing makes sense anymore. I don't—I can't—I can't do anything."

He frowns. "What do you mean you can't do anything?"

Hands come up to circle his wrists, not to push him away, just to have somewhere else to hold onto. "Princes fight for honor, for what's good. I can't—I can't fight anymore."

Not much can break Janus's heart like hearing Roman admit something like that, fewer things still can threaten tears at the corners of his eyes like the ones badly concealed in Roman's voice. "What do you mean, sweetie? Why can't you fight anymore?"

"I don't know anything! I don't know what's good, what's honorable, what's—what's right, I can't…I'm wrong, Janus, I'm just wrong and I don't—I don't know how to be right again."

"Shh, shh, shh, easy, now, sweetie, shh…" Janus hauls him closer, pressing his mouth to his flushed cheek, still murmuring comfort. "Shh…that's it, just stay here with me a moment, okay?"

"J-Janus—"

"I'm here, sweetie, I'm right here."

Roman's stifled sobs land like mines in the room, creating a mess around them as he curls up tighter, tighter still. The door to the Imagination glistens softly and he can almost hear the distant crackle of a fireplace and that alone sends him further into the fit. Janus's hands remain gentle, holding him close, but everything keeps spinning and nothing, nothing makes sense except the hurt in his chest.

He's going to cry himself to sleep again, he realizes faintly as exhaustion starts to seep through him, but then Janus is kissing his forehead again and gently shaking him awake.

"Sweetie, listen to me: no one knows what you fight for better than you, okay? You're Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his hero—" Roman whimpers— "you do know what's right."

"N-no, I don't."

"Then who does know?"

"Patton."

Janus's blood runs cold. "Patton? Why Patton?"

"Patton's the Heart, he's M—he's Morality. He knows—he decides. I'm—I just follow." He sniffles. "And Logan—Logan, he's right, I don't—I'm so stupid—"

"That's enough, now." He runs a hand through his hair again. "That's enough, sweetie. You're not stupid. No—shh, shh, you're not. You know you're not."

"I am. I can't—I can't talk right and I don't know what I'm doing and—an' I'm just gonna mess everything up again."

Janus closes his eyes, bowing his head and taking a deep breath of his own. Cradling Roman's head to his chest, he leans down and kisses both his forehead and his cheeks, just staying there for a long, long moment. Roman's soft sobs echo gently in his ear and he tucks a stray piece of hair back from his face.

"You're not stupid," he murmurs, "you're not going to mess everything up again. You're okay. You're okay, sweetie."

Roman sniffles and shakes his head. "No, it's not. It's not okay."

"…no," Janus concedes, pulling Roman close, "I suppose it's not."

***

Not many things can happen in the Mindscape without Remus noticing, and almost nothing can happen to his brother without him showing up to knock some heads.

Case in point: when there's a tug in his gut telling him that Roman is upset, he grabs his Morningstar and sinks out without hesitating.

When he rises up in the living room, it takes less than two seconds for him to determine one: that Logan is picking on his brother, two: Patton isn't doing anything to stop him, and three: Roman is crying.

"Remus, not now," Logan sighs, "we're in the middle of something."

"You're in the middle of hurting my brother."

"R-Re?" He's got his arm around Roman's shoulders in the next moment. "W-wait, I need to—I have to—I gotta explain."

"Explain what, Roro?"

Logan sighs. "Roman has been trying, unsuccessfully, to explain that we are at fault for—"

"Ah, no." Remus throws a knife at Logan. "I didn't ask you. Shush."

"Remus! Throwing knives at people isn't nice!"

"Neither is making them cry! We're all in agreement." He tucks his head against Roman's, gentling his voice. "What're you trying to explain, Roro?"

"The—" he sniffles— "Janus said I should try—try talking to them and I said it wouldn't work but he—he insisted an' I—"

"Shh, shh, take your time, Ro, you're doing great."

"Heart. Morality. Prince. Logic."

Remus's little black heart breaks in two and he wraps his arms tightly around his brother. "Oh, Ro, it's okay. It's gonna be okay, lemme get you somewhere safe and I'll do it for you, okay?"

"You don't have to—"

"Trust me, Ro-bro, I got this."

Roman sags in his arms. "O-okay."

Remus quickly bids the Imagination to open its doors and sinks Roman out, giving him a gentle push into the forest before reappearing in the living room. He cracks his knuckles and grins.

"Alright, where were we?"

Logan sighs. "Remus, I don't—"

"Ah, that's right!" Remus throws another knife at him. "You, not listening to people who can't articulate things as well as you can! Rude and ableist, Loganberry, not a good look on you."

"I am not—"

"Roman can't articulate his thoughts as well as you can and so you think you're better than him, smarter than him, and that he's not worth listening to, is that explicit enough?" Logan opens and closes his mouth a few times but doesn't say anything. "Mm. And you!"

Patton yelps as Remus throws something at him too.

"You have a nasty habit of making Roman feel like a helpless little kid! You have a lot of sway over things like Thomas's sense of right and wrong and when you don't talk to Roman like he's your equal, you really fuck him up!"

"Language—"

"Don't fucking talk to me about my language," Remus says with artificial cheeriness, "talk to yourself about how not to give my brother an identity crisis!"

He stops throwing things, mainly because the rest of them are exploding or things he knows Roman would rather he didn't throw at them, no matter how tempting it is. The two of them slowly get their shit together, each with a different amount of regret. He doesn't really care about that, though, so long as they're not going to hurt Roman like that again.

"Good chat!"

And he sinks out to tackle Roman into Ollie's pond so they can have fun playing and not crying.

God, he loves his brother.

***

"Hey, Thomas?"

Thomas looks up and sees Virgil on the stairs. "Oh, hey, Virge, what's up?"

"You, uh, you asked me to keep an eye on Princey."

He sits up straight. "Yeah, what's—what's going on?"

Virgil sighs, rubbing his hands together. "There was a…not a fight, but some stuff happened. Turns out that Roman, uh, didn't believe you when you said you still thought of him as your hero and it…got bad."

"Do I want to know how bad?"

"Like, bad enough that Roman wasn't—shit, Thomas, no, I don't think you wanna know. Let's just say it was bad enough that he wasn't just going to the Imagination for comfort, he was going there because it was the only place he felt safe."

"Oh, Roman…"

"The fight—the thing was about Roman trying to explain to Patton and Logan how it fucked him up really badly, and he wasn't—you know how Roman's not always the best at explaining himself?"

"Yeah?"

"It—it wasn't really going well. Remus had to step in and do it for him."

"Wait, Remus?"

"Yeah, they're brothers. Remus—shit, Remus is really protective of Roman sometimes and this time wasn't an exception. Everyone's fine now, but it's…" Virgil sighs. "Logan and Patton have apologized and everybody's working on it, but I thought you'd want to know."

"How much stuff happens with you guys that I don't know about?"

"Honestly? I don't think you want the answer to that either."

"Jesus." Thomas scrubs a hand over his face. "Alright, well, thanks for telling me, Virgil. If…if there's anything I can do, let me know?"

Virgil nods and sinks out. Thomas puts a hand to his chest, rubbing in slow circles. There's a part of him that feels cold, still. Maybe…maybe he can figure out some way to help warm it up.

***

Roman wakes up to the sound of a crackling fire. He hums, rolling over, reaching for the edge of the bed, only to stop when his hands meet the thick red comforter. He frowns. This…this is his bed. He didn't fall asleep in the Imagination. So then why…?

He looks over and his eyes widen.

Across the room, tucked into a neat little alcove that definitely wasn't there when he went to sleep, is a merrily crackling fireplace. Above it, mounted on a gold plaque, is a cardboard sword with the words you're my hero written on it in red ink.

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#sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #dragonbabbles #fic

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necrotic-nephilim · 2 months ago

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WOAH Bruce not only feeding that assumption in steph but planting the seed of it by saying something about Jason while he’s behind her and they’re looking at the memorial case together. Like this being after a build up of like you said him being harsh with her training “you didn’t match those fingerprints fast enough they could’ve matched 50 in 40 seconds you took almost twice that” but being kind while he’s physically touching her. Bruce standing behind steph, not to the side but directly behind, with his hand on her shoulder and the hand drops down to squeeze her arms and steph looks down at it and turns around and kisses him. I think if steph sent a post coitus pic to Bruce he wouldn’t even get mad he’d just get horny thinking about them together. Thank you for the photo steph can I get one in your robin costumes next time

(based on this post and this post) oh my god. your vision anon. i was going to just build off of this with headcanons but the scene you described i cannot get out of my head so uh have a fic that's 6k and far longer than it should've been with vanilla sex that somehow is very dead dove anyway, also crossposted on ao3. ily i would guard you with my life- <3

When Stephanie thought about Bruce, she remembered skin that tasted like salt and brimstone. She remembered warm hands that held her more gently than she'd probably ever be held again. She remembered a cold voice that was more cruel to her than anyone had ever been.

Which, given who her father was, Stephanie personally found that to be a pretty fucking impressive feat.

She remembered a lot of things about Bruce. So many memories sat on her tongue and threatened to spill out whenever she opened her mouth.

Memories like Bruce's hand on her shoulder, giving her another lesson she never got to use before dying.

"You didn't match those fingerprints fast enough," Bruce said. He was unforgiving, and Stephanie didn't have to be looking at him to know his features were painted in disappointment. She scowled and focused harder on the slides in front of her, ignoring him. When she didn't answer, he twisted the knife deeper. "Tim could've matched almost fifty in forty seconds. You took twice that."

It was always Tim being dangled like a carrot in front of Stephanie's face. So many times had Stephanie wanted to twist around and snap at Bruce that he wasn't the only one who lost someone when Tim had to quit being Robin. Bruce wasn't the only one with a gaping hole in his chest that couldn't be filled.

At least Bruce had Stephanie trying to fill his loss. It wasn't like anyone had stepped up for her.

Stephanie's grip on a fingerprint slide tightened until she was sure the glass would crack. "Did Tim have you breathing down his neck the whole time, making unnecessary commentary?" Her snark could cost her this role she fought so hard for.

After hours of useless training that didn't even involve punching things, Stephanie wasn't sure if she cared about that.

It took a silent, brooding moment before Bruce answered. "In the field, you won't always be afforded an undisturbed working space. But you also can't tune out distractions that could cost your life."

If she could, Stephanie would punch Bruce. If she thought her fist had the slightest chance of actually connecting with his face before he dodged or deflected it, there would already be a satisfying crunch of bone against bone echoing through the cave. Just the mental image of it made Stephanie almost smile.

She took a slow breath.

"Point taken," Stephanie said carefully. She set the glass slide down, flexing her hand that still itched for violence. Another cruel comment was on her lips when Bruce's hand started massaging her shoulder. The touch was so gentle it forced tension out of her muscles, and Stephanie sighed. "Are we done?"

"No," Bruce was icy, lacking any emotion. "We need to go over your lackluster decoding skills again." His other hand came to rest on her other shoulder, massaging in tandem. It was an electric touch she wanted to lean into.

"For fuck's sake!" Stephanie threw her hands up, then dropped her head into them, rubbing her temples. "What has it been, four hours? We haven't even eaten."

The shadow Bruce cast over her just seemed to grow, engulfing every inch of Stephanie's existence. "This job isn't one that comes with luxuries. And it's a job you asked for," he reminded her. His thumbs were working into Stephanie's neck, perfectly pressing out a stiffness she'd been harboring for weeks. She couldn't stop herself from pressing into the touch. "If you lose even once... you lose things you can't afford to lose. Things I can't afford to lose."

Stephanie looked up from the desk. Her gaze snagged on the memorial case that loomed over her every time she walked into the case. The name that was carefully carved into the plate at the bottom of a boy she never even got to know.

Because he was what Bruce lost.

"You're not going to lose me." Stephanie turned her head to face Bruce, giving him a much kinder look than she'd been wearing just seconds ago. One of Bruce's hands drifted down to hold her bicep. "You know that, right? I know what you've already lost, but I can be better than that."

It was gently possessive. Like, at any moment, she could evaporate, and he would be alone again. For all his flaws, Bruce sure as hell knew how to tug on Stephanie's fragile heartstrings.

"You have no idea what I've lost." Bruce's voice actually broke, like he was a marble statue cracking, every grove held a story. Real emotion, real pain beyond her comprehension. That was a rare thing. Stephanie studied the way his face shifted. She tried to remember all the training he'd given her about noticing small changes and what they meant.

Sorrow and pain in his brow. Worry and tension in the thin pressed line of his mouth.

Love in his eyes. A familiar love Stephanie knew better than anyone.

But he wasn't looking at Stephanie. He was looking at the memorial case.

"Oh," Stephanie realized out loud, eyes going wide. "I didn't know- oh. I'm so sorry, Bruce."

Bruce's gaze snapped away from the case all too abruptly, as if he'd revealed far too much to Stephanie in a single instant. His eyes were guarded again, and he stared down at her with a tense expression, stroking her skin with his thumb.

It was stupid, that Stephanie had never considered this... thing with Bruce to be a unique thing. Maybe she liked the naivety of feeling special in how Bruce showed her attention. She was never going to be the only Robin, definitely never going to be the best Robin, but she had always assumed she was the only one Bruce loved, like that.

The lining of jealousy calling her bones was put out by sympathy for Bruce. The loss of Jason was worse, if that was how he and Bruce were. It was more than losing a sidekick.

It was losing a lover.

Was Tim the same? Probably. Undoubtedly, Stephanie decided. And Dick, the way Bruce talked about them. She'd always known Tim and Bruce were weirdly entangled in ways it wasn't her business to understand, but now, the pieces clicked further into place.

And in one way or another, Bruce had lost all of them.

Now here she was.

No wonder her training was thankless. She could die or leave him at any moment, in Bruce's eyes.

Stephanie properly turned around, spinning her chair. Facing him fully, none of Stephanie's concern was hidden from Bruce. He answered it with a frown, running his fingers through her hair and cupping her face. Stephanie looked at the hand as it lingered on her body. Like Bruce couldn't force himself to pull away. Like he knew he was being selfish, putting her in danger.

But Stephanie wasn't fragile. She had what other Robins didn't. Experience on the field, doing this on her own without Batman. Who knew how strong she could be under his touch, how she’d blossom.

Stephanie stood up and touched Bruce's face. She had to stand on her toes to do it, but she kissed him. Gave him the moment he always needed to go from stiff and overthinking to melting into Stephanie's touch. He kissed back and licked his tongue into her mouth, like she was a decadent food he was savoring.

How he always tasted the same, salty and earthy, Stephanie would never know. She'd add it to the tally of mysteries about Bruce Wayne.

Bruce's hand drifted down to Stephanie's waist. Then, like something out of a movie, He brushed aside all the fingerprint slides, letting some clatter to the floor so he could pick her up around her hips and set her on the table. She was raised up enough that she didn't have to strain to reach his mouth now, letting them deepen the kiss.

For a while, they stayed like that. Kissing and hands wandering. Stephanie slipped her hand under Bruce's cotton t-shirt, feeling against hard muscle and a bandage over a deep cut that had needed stitches only a few days ago. A part of Stephanie wanted to push her fingers under the medical tape, just so she could feel where the cut was. Press her fingers up against the painful wound, exploring where Bruce's flesh ripped open and paid the price for his sloppy actions, as he would put it.

But she didn't. Stephanie did her best to keep the more inhumane parts of herself out of reach from Bruce so he wouldn't scrutinize them and make her feel like more of a failure.

Bruce ran a hand up the inside of Stephanie's thigh until he found the zipper of her jeans and just rested his thumb there. His other hand was cupping one of her breasts in a hold that wasn't nearly tight enough for Stephanie's tastes. It was such a cruel thing, how he was rough and unforgiving with his words, but treated her like a doll about to break whenever he fucked her.

Just once, Stephanie would give anything to fuck the Batman and hear words from Bruce Wayne. Not the other way around.

If she told Bruce that, there was a non-zero chance he would throw her in Arkham for it. He'd told her at length how relationships with women like Catwoman failed because they wanted him to be gentle in places he couldn't be.

He found gentleness for Stephanie in those places, though.

Bruce trailed kisses down Stephanie's throat. She tilted her head back to give him better access for sucking colorful marks into her skin, making her shudder. Her body begged for more where her voice failed her.

"Are you hungry?" Bruce asked, his voice vibrating against her skin.

Stephanie's head was swimming. "What?"

She swore she felt him smile against her throat. "You pointed out we haven't eaten. Do you need dinner, Stephanie?"

"Oh, you bastard." Stephanie smacked his arm, and he let her. "Later. We can order Chinese or something after this."

"Good." Bruce's voice dropped a dangerous octave. He always found some covert way to ask for her consent without directly asking for it. Just another part of his mind games she would never understand.

His hands pushed under her shirt. He pulled away from the kiss long enough to pull it up over her head, exposing Stephanie's plain white bra. She fantasized about being the type of girl who wore fancy lingerie for an older man like Bruce, but that wasn't something for Stephanie's shallow pockets.

She knew she could ask Bruce. He'd probably fall over himself for the chance to buy her lingerie. He always said yes when it came to money things, and even offered her a debit card attached to one of his smaller accounts. Which, in Bruce's language, meant an account with only a couple million instead of hundreds of millions.

But Stephanie always said no. She needed some side of her life to keep to herself without Bruce influencing it.

She needed Bruce to know she could still hold herself above water without him.

Her fingers buried in his short hair, carding through the soft, dark strands that still had the scent of his sandalwood shampoo. If he grew his hair out, it would probably have a faint curl pattern, like the pictures Stephanie had seen of Martha Wayne, from back in the day. It was a shame he kept it so short.

"How are your ribs?" Bruce asked, his fingers brushing over the still purple bruise and making Stephanie wince.

"Fine," she insisted, wiping the pain off her face. She had been the one stupid enough to take a punch from a Riddler goon, of all people. She didn't need Bruce pointing out her failures now.

He didn't look like he believed her, but he didn't push it. Bruce just bent over to press soft kisses over the marks, like he thought his love could heal her. If it could, it would've by now. Just the thought made Stephanie shiver and relax more into his touch.

One of his hands snuck behind her to undo the clasp on her bra. Stephanie shifted her shoulders, and it fell to the ground.

Bruce latched his mouth around one of her nipples. Stephanie groaned and pulled his hair. He always let her be rough, if she needed it. Her nails left angry red marks down his back, and she held onto him so tightly there were bruises. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Stephanie was pretty sure Bruce liked the marks as much as she did, proof that she'd laid claim to him as much as he'd claimed her.

Their relationship was one of reciprocity if nothing else.

It was a maddening tease to have Bruce's mouth on her flesh. He kneaded her other breast with a strong hand that had crushed bones, brushing across her nipple until it was standing upright and there were goosebumps on her flesh. She wanted to stay like this forever, having the goddamn Batman worshipping her skin.

She needed more, though.

Stephanie unbuttoned her own jeans and shimmied them down. They were barely past her hips when Bruce grabbed her wrist.

"What have I told you about patience?" Despite everything, he used the same tone he would've if he was scolding her about rushing into a mission too quickly.

"You're a bastard," Stephanie was breathless just from the few touches he'd given her. Heat was pooling between her legs and she needed to alleviate the pressure somehow, like expressing an infected wound. Sometimes, Stephanie's cunt felt less like a sacred hole for pleasure and more like a bleeding gash that she needed Bruce to provide triage for. He fucked her with the same intimacy that he dressed her stab wounds, finding the gaping flesh and pressing into it until there was finally relief.

Bruce probably didn't see it that way. Stephanie didn't care.

He dared to laugh against her skin, deep and rough. "Relax. Trust your body. Trust me." His voice was so steady and firm, it was hard not to lean against.

Stephanie huffed, but bit her tongue. "At least take your shirt off. Fair is fair."

A gruff hum came out of Bruce, but he complied, pulling away to shuck the garment and give Stephanie one of her favorite views. Like watching a sunset over the Gotham horizon, every time she saw Bruce's naked skin was just a little different. The same gorgeous sight, but if her eyes wandered she would find all the new little scars, the older scars that were fading more, the ever-shifting wall of muscle that didn't look one bit human.

Stephanie groped his chest, running her fingers over coarse hairs that Bruce sometimes shaved, and sometimes didn't. She preferred the natural look, the same way she preferred when he went a few days without shaving. It made him just a touch animalistic.

He went back to devouring her skin with his mouth and hands. Stephanie was at Bruce's mercy as he kissed, sucked, and licked his way across the dips and valleys of her body. He was reverently gentle over her scars with soft kisses. Then he sank his teeth into sensitive places Stephanie never knew she had. The skin under her breasts, the stretch marks over her hip dips that had never quite gone back to normal after she gave birth.

The world spun around them and somehow, Stephanie was the only thing that mattered to Bruce.

When Bruce seemed pleased with the soft marks he'd covered her in, his hands finally pushed Stephanie's pants down the rest of the way, and he helped her kick them off with her shoes.

Then, he got on his knees.

Stephanie's eyes were wide, and her face turned a soft shade of red that matched the hickeys on her chest. "I haven't waxed-"

Bruce arched an eyebrow at her and pushed her knees open. "I don't care."

She didn't know what it was about Bruce, but Stephanie was always too shy about her body around him, expecting him to scrutinize it for the same faults he found in the rest of her. The first time they kissed, she started waxing that same night, from her pubic mound to her asshole, just so she would be smooth for him. She shaved more often, bought a nicer perfume, and tried her hair in styles she never would've worn before. It made Stephanie feel childish, but she could never stop herself.

She needed to be good for him.

Proving the point in his words, Bruce started kissing Stephanie's thigh. He left marks there, too, working his way closer and closer to her cunt. Stephanie could feel her heart rate spiking as the cold air hit her vagina. She was digging her nails into his scalp, too deeply, she realized. But like always, Bruce didn't seem to mind.

Finally, he made his way to his destination.

Bruce's tongue was hotter than a brand over Stephanie's cunt. She gasped and jerked. Every time, it never failed to make her dizzy. It was a reminder how inexperienced Stephanie was at sex. She offered to give him head and without fail, Bruce always said no.

Yet, he did things with his mouth that Stephanie didn't know were fucking possible.

Bruce licked his way inside of Stephanie, pressing his tongue as deep as it would go and flicking upward. A groan ripped out of Stephanie, and she was practically grinding on Bruce's face for more.

He used his hands to pull her folds open for better access. If Stephanie tried closing her legs, Bruce just pushed them back open with his elbows. He forced her on display for him, whining and squirming for desperate pleasure from his mouth.

"Bruce," Stephanie moaned, eyes fluttering. It was a simple pleasure, but an overwhelming one, hard to even look at Bruce without losing herself to it. Every time Stephanie looked down, those piercing blue eyes were locked on her, drinking up her reactions.

It was fucking intimidating, was what it was.

He moved his mouth upward and Stephanie shattered. Chapped lips wrapped around her clit and sucked until Stephanie's eyes were rolling into the back of her head. He flicked and twisted his tongue in ways that shouldn't have been humanly possible to send sparks up her spine. It was like getting shocked over and over again.

His fingers pressed inside of her hole, arching up. It was nothing like being finger banged by a horny teenage boy behind the bleachers and all the other clumsy sexual interactions that crowded Stephanie's youth. This was a touch with experience, fingers curling inside of her with movements that went for precision instead of speed or force. Like Bruce knew he didn't have to rush Stephanie's pleasure, he just had to find the right spots to tug at until he unraveled her.

"Fuck, Bruce!" Stephanie grabbed onto the end of the table and thanked every god that she didn't have super strength, because if she did, the metal would've crumpled under the force she put behind her grip. "You... you're going to drive me fucking insane... Bruce-" She canted her hips up to chase more pleasure. Her body was greedy, making up for how shy her mind wanted her to be.

There was a gleam in his eyes when she managed to look down again. She could see how smug he was about knowing it was only his touch that could reduce her to this, naked with pleasure dripping out of her.

She was going to make a mess of the table. The last time she did that, Bruce gently guided her to her knees and pressed her face into the slick puddle until Stephanie got the message without a single spoken order. Licking up her own cum while Bruce had fucked her behind, a hand around her throat.

That memory was one she still jerked off to. It was too rare for Stephanie to get those wilder, kinkier inclinations out of Bruce, no matter how much she begged for his dirty fantasies she knew he was thinking about every time he looked at her.

One day she'd convince him to do whatever he was thinking about the time he stared at her a little too hard when she was trying to get out of those handcuffs.

The thought of that alone had Stephanie's pleasure rushing toward its crest, and her noises got higher and more desperate. Bruce couldn't say anything, with his mouth locked around her clit and still working it so well, but he stroked her thigh with his thumb as if he was encouraging her to let go.

It may as well have been an order.

And Stephanie obeyed.

She pulled hard on Bruce's hair and clamped her thighs tight around his skull, holding him there. Bruce didn't force them open this time, he just let her body take what it needed. Stephanie was almost positive a third finger pushed inside of her to join the first two filling her as she hit the peak of her orgasm.

A scream tore free from her lungs. She kicked uselessly, one foot accidentally hitting one of Bruce's shoulders. He was a concrete wall, though, not moving or even flinching from it. He just kept licking and sucking and looking through his dark curls to stare at her as she howled. Stephanie tried to say Bruce's name, she tried to tell him how good it felt, but all the words got lost in translation. All she could do was hold onto him and ride through every electric wave, hoping he understood.

Of course, he did. He always did.

Just as Stephanie reached the peak of pleasure and tipped into overstimulation, Bruce pulled off of her clit. He looked almost disappointed by it, staring briefly at her soaked, pink folds. Like he wanted to stay there and make her suffer and beg for reprieve.

If Stephanie had any sense to her, she would've pouted about him not doing just that.

At least his fingers stayed inside of her. They weren't moving anymore, but they were a warm pressure, keeping her full and satiated as her body went boneless. Bruce studied her and watched Stephanie hold herself up with her arm to keep from flopping onto the table and passing out right there.

"Fuck me," Stephanie said, already knowing that Bruce was debating it. Sometimes he fucked her after he ate her out, sometimes he didn't- no matter how she begged for it. Even when she could see the tent in his pants. The time she'd begged particularly hard, he laid her out on his bed and told her to stay still and just jerked off on her tits, as if to prove some kind of point she didn't understand.

She did understand, though, how fucking hot it had been to have his spent pleasure against her skin. Perverse and disgusting, but hot. She had scooped it up with her fingers and sucked them clean in front of him, the only time she ever got to taste his cum. It earned her a scowl as he carried her into the shower, practically dropping her into the tub.

Of course, she did manage to get Bruce to properly fuck her in the shower. So it was a happy memory, no matter how Bruce's disapproving stare the whole time tried to taint it.

A healthy collection of memories. And still, Stephanie's greedy hands wanted more. She wanted, craved more than just his fingers inside of her.

"Please," Stephanie added when Bruce was quiet for too long. She did her best to appear submissive and doe-eyed, looking at him through her lashes and spreading her legs. "I want you to feel good, too. Let me take care of you." When the soft, sultry tone she used didn't do anything to make him budge, Stephanie sighed and grabbed his wrist, pressing her thumb against the pulse point to feel his hammering heartbeat. "Take what you need, Bruce. I'm not going anywhere."

Bruce groaned and Stephanie felt it in her core.

He pushed himself to his feet, fingers still buried inside of her. When he grabbed for one of the drawers to a nearby desk, Stephanie practically preened, knowing she'd won.

"We don't need a condom," Stephanie said. She tried this argument every time. It never worked. She never stopped trying. "I have an IUD and we both get tested regularly-"

"It's not up for debate," Bruce nearly growled. He pulled a condom out and ripped the package out with his teeth. Stephanie squeaked at the sight.

"Let me put it on, at least?" Stephanie said, trying to get her voice out of the higher register he'd startled her into.

Bruce didn't put up a fight as Stephanie opened his jeans with her hands and pushed them down just enough to pull his cock free. He handed her the condom and watched with rapt attention as she stroked him a few times. It got no reaction from Bruce, and Stephanie didn't expect one. She just enjoyed the feeling of his stiff, hot flesh underneath her touch. All the little places only Stephanie got to touch and hold.

She worked him until his cock was twitching, and he grabbed her thigh again and squeezed with warning. Hypocritical bastard. He got all the time he wanted with her body, but she was always rushed when she got to touch him, sliding her hand over his cock and rubbing a thumb over the slick head.

The condom was rolled on as Stephanie imagined putting it on with her mouth. She'd practiced the skill on a dildo more than once in anticipation of the day she finally got to show it off to Bruce. She licked her lips at the thought.

"Good," Bruce grunted when the condom was snugly on his length. It was a coveted, rare praise that made Stephanie almost choke. And somehow, he said it like it was nothing. Like he didn't even mean to. Like he was unaware of how it made her react.

She liked to pretend it just slipped out because he was so caught up in her, but the realist in Stephanie knew that, like everything else about Bruce, it was calculated. Still, she took what she could get.

Bruce tugged Stephanie closer to the edge with his grip on her thigh. It was practically manhandling, and she couldn't stop the moan at the rough treatment that begged for more. Instead of giving her more, Bruce just gave her a sour look and pulled his fingers out of her cunt, and pushed them into her mouth to keep her quiet.

To make her taste the pleasure only he could bring her.

Stephanie mewled and sucked on Bruce's thick, calloused fingers as he lined himself up with a guiding hand. The push in was a blunt pressure, then a fullness that made Stephanie lean back until Bruce wrapped his arm around her shoulders to give her support.

Their bodies were flush together. He buried his face into her neck and breathed in her scent while she tasted his skin, savoring the flavor she only found on him.

Salt and brimstone.

Bruce fucked her at a controlled pace. He never let go to push her body to the limit the way she knew he could. But with how overwhelming it was to be fucked by him, maybe that was a thing. Bruce was thick and long, driving air out of Stephanie's lungs every time he drove in.

He pulled his fingers free from her mouth, and she mourned the loss with a soft noise. His hand trailed down to press against the bottom of her stomach. She didn't know where the hell Bruce learned the trick, but the slight pressure on the outside of her body somehow made the thrusts more intense and filling. It made sure his cock assaulted her g-spot with every stroke and her back arched.

"Bruce, Bruce," Stephanie chanted his name, clawing at his back, not caring that her nails were catching on sensitive scars. She felt like she couldn't think. She locked her legs around his waist to pull him impossibly closer.

Her back arched until her head was practically hanging upside down, all while Bruce kept his face buried against her collarbone. So he couldn't see where her gaze fell and what made her stuttered noises get more guttural.

The memorial case danced in front of Stephanie's eyes, even from this upside-down shaky view, grounding her to the moment even as she was soaring through pleasure.

Stephanie didn't know much about Jason Todd. She didn't know his hobbies or his favorite books. She didn't know what jokes would make him smile and what worries clouded his head when he was trying to fall asleep.

But she knew they shared this. She knew, in this way, they were always going to be connected. Bruce had been buried deep in Jason the same way he was buried in Stephanie, chasing his pleasure. And just like Stephanie, Jason must've liked it.

How could he not, when being loved by Bruce was like being on a direct path of a meteorite? Fleeting, but brilliant in the chaos.

Stephanie tried to remember what Jason looked like, from the pictures. She tried to imagine how Bruce liked to fuck Jason and what Jason looked like under Bruce. How his dark hair got sweaty and his ocean-blue eyes squeezed shut. What type of noises he would make and what kinds of pleasure he liked.

Did Bruce suck him off? Eat his ass out like he ate Stephanie out?

Did Jason love the fall into absolution the same way Stephanie did?

All the mental images overwhelmed her as the Robin suit danced in front of her eyes, bright colors blurring together. The thought of Jason bent over the same table Stephanie was getting fucked on made her moan and her eyes squeezed shut.

In another universe, maybe they got fucked by Bruce at the same time. Two Robins for the price of one to finally get Bruce to go over the edge and take what he wanted from both of them.

For now, though, Stephanie would have to do the work for both of them. For all the Robins and this torch she carried.

She clenched down around Bruce as best she could. Her second orgasm was already too close. Usually she needed Bruce to stroke her clit to work her to the edge, but now, lost in all her fantasies of a boy she never knew, Stephanie was lost to it. She started to shake.

"Close," Stephanie warned, even when she didn't need to. Her noises were hitched and broken, lost in every thrust.

Bruce didn't speed up, but he did fuck her harder, giving her just a fraction of more force from his strong hips. It pulled a scream out of her, and Stephanie shattered.

The pleasure took its hold on her. Toe-curling and mind-numbing and every other cliche Stephanie thought only happened in porn. She clamped down around Bruce, so tight she didn't know how he managed to keep fucking her.

"Stephanie," Bruce whispered, so softly she almost convinced herself she hallucinated it. It was the only sign she got that Bruce had come, burying himself to the hilt just as her orgasm came to an end. He shivered and exhaled, and nothing else. No loud noises, no sexy dirty talk.

Just unspoken simplicity. Stephanie could appreciate it for what it was.

She nuzzled into him, pressing her head against his and holding him tightly. It would've been a hug if he wasn't still buried inside of her. She even dared to stroke his hair, like a mother soothing a child after a nightmare.

After an orgasm was the rare time Bruce allowed Stephanie to take care of him in these little ways, and she never squandered the chance. She hummed softly, carding her fingers through his curls and rubbing his back.

It wasn't a long moment.

"Chinese?" Bruce asked, pulling away from Stephanie's skin.

Stephanie rummaged around inside her worn mind, trying to find her cockiness. "Worked up that much of an appetite?" She gave him a sharp smile.

"If you don't give me a straight answer, I'll order Pizza Hut," Bruce threatened.

"Oh, gross." Stephanie made a face, afterglow sufficiently killed. "They have the worst pizza, don't you dare."

Bruce gave her a rare smile. He leaned in and kissed her one last time before they had to separate and be real people again.

That was where the memory faded off, for Stephanie. It bled into all the other little almost-domestic moments she had with Bruce.

It was a memory that stuck out because it was the first real time Stephanie had ever thought about Jason. And now, it was a fitting one to mull over as she was curled up against Jason’s chest, enjoying an entirely different afterglow.

And a much more sore body.

Because Jason didn't hold back all the things they both wanted more than anything.

"Say cheese," Stephanie said, holding up her phone to take a selfie.

Jason, whose head was propped up by his arm, looking perfectly serene, cracked an eye open. "What are you doing?" He sounded suspicious, watching as Stephanie twisted and turned the phone, trying to find the perfect angle.

She needed to make sure both of their bare chests were in the picture, with all the bruises and marks covering them.

She needed to make sure there was no mistaking what the photo meant.

"I'm sending this to Bruce," Stephanie hummed. She didn't smile for the picture, but there was an unmistakable smugness in her eyes as she snapped a couple of pictures, giving her options to pick from before pulling the phone back to her face.

Jason snorted. His grip on her hip tightened. "Why?" He didn't protest the idea.

Stephanie just shrugged. "It'll piss him off."

"You like kicking hornets' nests that much?"

"You've got no room to talk. How many heads were in that duffel bag again?" Stephanie gave him a deadpan look before going back to her phone. She debated on a message to send with the selfie, before ultimately deciding on none.

After all, Bruce was a man of few words. Surely he would understand.

Jason made an annoyed noise but didn't argue. "Tell me what he says back," he said, closing his eyes again and adjusting to get more comfortable in bed. This was his base they had chosen to fuck in.

The first place they fucked on was a rooftop. But of course, the lighting there wasn't the best for a selfie, so Stephanie had to hold off on taunting Bruce.

Sleeping with Jason was a lot more dangerous than sleeping with Bruce had been. She heard all the warnings and stories about what he was capable of and how he wasn't the sweet boy he'd once been.

Maybe she liked the danger. Maybe she needed someone who would finally stop treating her like a doll.

And just maybe, she needed to gloat.

The message was marked as read nearly as soon as it was sent. The three little dots indicating Bruce was typing appeared and disappeared no less than a dozen times. It made her smile, imagining him sputtering and cycling through emotions as he tried to figure out a response.

Just as Stephanie was sure she wasn't going to get any response, a message appeared on her screen.

Thank you for the photo. If you plan to send more, I still have your Robin suit. You can wear it in the next one.

Stephanie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She elbowed Jason in the ribs and showed him the screen.

Jason grunted and looked down for a moment, silent. "I'd fuck you in your Robin suit," was the only input he offered.

"Only if you're wearing yours too," Stephanie rolled her eyes at how unhelpful he was.

Jason gave the thought a hum, considering. "Ask Bruce if he still has it, and I'll think about it."

She had no idea if he was serious or not. It was always hard to tell, with Jason. She had no idea if Bruce was serious either. Maybe he was playing some kind of cruel joke on her too, trying to outsmart her in some game of chess just because she'd dare to mock him with the picture.

At the very least, she could be pleased she got under his skin either way.

Stephanie smiled and typed out what Jason had said, hitting send.

She always did like calling people's bluff. Whatever the outcome was, one thing was sure.

The game was on. And Stephanie wasn't stopping until she got the last fiber of Bruce's control to snap.

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