#but I really struggle more than I let on sometimes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itsnesss · 3 days ago

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hihi!! could you please do a younger driver (like ollie or kimi) and a piece on missing the reader’s graduation bc of a race?

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫 | oliver bearman × fem!reader

summary | you graduate, but ollie misses it because of a race. you give your speech, heart heavy, thinking of him

warnings | fluff, soft romance, mild angst, long-distance struggles, emotional vulnerability, comfort

word count | 1.5 k

🖇 more ob87 🖇 f1 masterlist

Your dress has been hanging in the closet for days, protected by a garment bag. It’s the same one you picked out with your mom, the one Ollie said made you look like a movie star.

Less than 24 hours to your graduation, and as you place the cap on the bed, you check your phone one more time. Nothing. No new messages. No calls. No news from Ollie.

You knew. You knew there was a chance. A high chance, to be honest, that he wouldn’t make it. But you had made so many plans… He himself promised he would try everything to be there.

“What if I get there just at the end, and I give you a hug when you finish your speech?” he had said excitedly, days before.

You practiced that speech with him. Several times. On video calls from hotels all around the world. He corrected you, laughed when you made a bad joke, asked you to say it slower when you rushed.

And you did it hoping that, when you walked on stage and read the final words, his eyes would be waiting for you in the audience.

But now, less than a day away, everything points to him not being there.

You sit on the bed and dial his number. It goes straight to voicemail.

You take a deep breath, swallowing the disappointment. He loves you. You know that. But sometimes loving someone who also loves their dream is… lonely.

You want to scream. Not at him. At the world.

Then, your phone vibrates.

A voice message from Ollie.

“Hey... love. I’m sure you probably already know what I’m about to say. I tried, really. But I’m not going to make it. I’m stuck here because of the rankings. They won’t let me move anything. I’m so sorry. So sorry. I thought if I didn’t tell you earlier, there might still be a tiny chance. But there isn’t…”

Pause.

“It hurts more than I can explain not to be there tomorrow. I know how much it means to you. To both of us. But even if I can’t see you walk across that stage, I’ll be watching you from wherever I am. And when you finish, when you have your diploma in your hands… call me. Please. Because even if I can’t hug you, I promise I’ll be with you in everything that comes after.”

A tear escapes.

Tomorrow is still ahead.

The sun falls perfectly over campus when you leave the house with your cap in hand and your eyes still swollen from crying the night before. You look in the rearview mirror of your dad’s car and smile automatically. You’ve waited for this day for years. You imagined it again and again. But in all those versions… Ollie was there.

When you get out of the car, everyone seems to be shining. Your classmates take selfies, some rush to meet their families, others joke about not tripping going up the stage. You just look for a face you already know you won’t find.

The ceremony begins. Your name is on the program. You’re going to give a speech. One you practiced with him. One you read over and over so he could hear it between training, interviews, and flights.

“Now, please welcome our graduating class’s guest speaker…”

You’re asked to go up.

The lights blind you a little. The auditorium is huge. It feels bigger without him.

“Good afternoon. I want to start with something very simple… thank you.”

Your voice is steady. No one notices how tightly you grip the edge of the podium, or how your eyes wander over the rows, hoping to see him somewhere. Hoping you could trick fate and make him appear.

“Thank you to my teachers, my parents, my friends… and to someone who isn’t here today. Though he was in every rehearsal, in every word of this speech. This person… believed in me when I didn’t. He listened, encouraged me, interrupted me with bad jokes so I wouldn’t take everything so seriously. And even though he’s not sitting here today… he’s with me. I’m sorry. Because that’s what the people we love do: they’re there, even when they can’t be.”

There’s a long silence. Some people applaud. Others smile, not fully understanding who you meant.

But you know. And that’s enough.

When you step down from the stage, your chest burns a little. Pride, sadness, a warm hollow that carries his name.

You go through the ceremony like a spectator of your own movie. You receive your diploma. You get hugs. Your parents congratulate you. Friends take pictures with you.

And you smile. Because you made it this far.

But something is missing. And no matter how much you deny it, you feel it.

Later, when you’re at home, the dress already wrinkled and the cap on the table, your phone vibrates.

Ollie: Can I call you?

You answer with a simple “Yes.”

Seconds later, his name appears on the screen. You pick up.

“Hi,” you say, barely a whisper.

“You look beautiful,” he says without hesitation.

“How do you know?”

“I watched the whole stream. I had an interview at the same time, but I snuck away. I saw you give the speech. You have no idea how hard it was not to cry like an idiot at the part about ‘the people we love are there, even when they can’t be’…”

You bite your lip. There’s a huge knot in your throat.

“I really wanted you to be there.”

“Me too. Every second. Every damn second. Can I send you something?”

Before you can answer, a notification arrives.

An attached file. A video.

You open it.

It’s Ollie, in his hotel room, still wearing his team suit, holding a small homemade sign that says “Congrats, love. You did it. I’m so proud of you.”

“It’s cheesy,” he laughs from the phone. “But I made it while watching the ceremony. Just in case… you couldn’t see me, so at least you’d know I was with you. In my way.”

And you… you break down crying. Silently. With the full weight of having wanted that moment so badly with him.

“Thank you, Ollie.”

“I’m going to make it up to you. All of it. I promise.”

“No need. Just… thank you for not making me feel alone, even though you were so far away.”

Silence. Warmth.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, steady.

Your heart stops for a second.

“I love you too.”

And at that moment, even though you’re miles apart, even though you haven’t seen each other, even though there’s no photo of you both at your graduation… you know this day will live in your memory as one of the most beautiful ever.

Only three days have passed since your graduation, but it feels like an eternity. After the call with Ollie, everything was bittersweet: you knew he loved you, you knew he tried, but not being able to hug him that day hurt more than you thought.

And you accepted it. You learned to let go of the idea of “the perfect moment.”

Today is Sunday, and you’re at home, in pajamas, watching a documentary you’re barely listening to. Your family is out. You have the house to yourself. Your phone is silent. You don’t even know what country Ollie is in now.

Someone rings the doorbell.

You frown. A package? A neighbor? You get up dragging your feet, expecting anything but what you see when you open the door.

“Hi, love.”

And there he is.

With his suitcase at his side, a cap crooked on his head, hair messy like he just ran out of the airport. His eyes lock onto yours like he can’t believe he’s really seeing you. Like he’s afraid you’re part of a jet-lagged dream.

And you… you’re frozen in shock.

“Ollie,” you whisper.

“I didn’t want to miss another important thing. I took the first flight after the GP. I just arrived. I couldn’t tell you. My battery died, I lost signal, then I got lost in the airport… but… I’m here. And I don’t care how I look now, or that I don’t have a gift, or that I’m sweating like crazy. I just needed to see that you were okay.”

Your eyes fill with tears.

And then you run.

You don’t think. You don’t hesitate. You just hug him like your body finally remembers what breathing well means. Like he fits with your chest, your arms, your story.

He laughs into your neck, his hands firm on your back.

“It was so hard not to cry earlier,” he murmurs. “But this… this is a miracle.”

You pull him tighter.

“It’s not a miracle. It’s that you love me.”

He pulls back a little just to look at you. His fingers brush a strand of hair from your face.

“So much.”

“Want to come in?” you ask with a teary smile.

“Only if you give me coffee and a tour of a brilliant graduate.”

“I’ll give you anything. But the tour starts with you hugging me for another half hour.”

“Deal.”

You close the door. He puts down his suitcase. And without another word, you hug again in the hallway, as if the world has finally aligned.

#🖇️ ollie bearman #oliver bearman x you #oliver bearman x reader #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #oliver bearman #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader

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tobesolnelyx · 3 days ago

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I was thinking about yj!reader who has some kind ED (if you're comfortable with that of course, but I don't want to be too specific to make it harder for you) and when she joined the team she managed to disguise her fainting as overworking herself, ou just because of the heat or any excuse possible. She will almost never come to their celebration after, always pretending that she has something to do, especially if it's like going to a restaurant. Maybe some of the girls were suspicious but nobody really said anything because reader was always brushing it off.

Then the plane crash happened and everything changed. They weren't living anymore, they were surviving. Everyone was scared, lost but most of all hungry. Rations were scarce so they tried to make it fair for everything by giving the same portions. Everyone was worried about their own survival, the wilderness that they didn't notice reader giving more of her potions to other people, sometimes vomiting behind a bush.

But Van, she was her closest friend on the team (and maybe had a crush on reader) and she was already worried before the crash but now it's worse. She regrets not asking reader about this before since now it seems impossible. But, still, she won't give up on her friend (or more) and maybe try to confront them. Maybe reader will brush it off again, especially since Van is cheerful and makes jokes, but this time Van doesn't let it slide because she noticed and won't let it happen. Like maybe she will stay with reader with meals to help her finish, trying to make her feel better.

Could be good material for angst, hurt/comfort and maybe fluff since Van would be the type of person to say cheesy things and dorky comments to cheer up someone

Thx for your work but don't overdo yourself either, take care <33

— forever winter || van palmer x yellowjacket!reader (pre-crash/wilderness) 🦊

a/n: so hey, i wanted to write here a few more sentences than usual. works like that are always challenging. not because the topic is rough. honestly, no matter how it’s going to sound, exploring tough, disturbing topics is always intriguing for me. it’s challenging cause by putting here attractive character, i might make this sound like “oh you just need a right person and you’ll get better.” which i can tell from my experience, doesn’t work. i tried to portray this in most realistic way, basing of what i saw and got through. if you’re struggling with ED — you’re not alone. there’s always someone who can help you. take care. ❤️‍🩹

warnings: eating disorders. anorexia— this work might be highly disturbing to some. standard yellowjackets warnings.

summary: you were struggling with ED your whole life. it's 90's, not like you can give it a proper name. neither people understand. but van at least try to be there for you. even in the middle of nowhere.

word count: around 2.8k

The summer that year was unbearably hot—and you didn’t take it well. But it wasn’t the day-long headaches that eased only in the evening that were the worst. Nor was it the swarm of mosquitoes, or the sweat clinging to your skin with little provocation. No, the worst thing by far was the exhaustion. And perhaps, in some cruel way, you had grown accustomed to it.

The hollow ache of an empty stomach folding in on itself, digesting nothing but its own walls, was no longer unfamiliar—it had become an inconvenience, a discomfort you accepted even if you never truly made peace with it. Your hair clung to your brush more often than not, your nails turned brittle and fragile over time. And then there were the shadows under your eyes—deep, yellowish bruises that spoke of more than sleepless nights. Aching teeth, chapped lips, peeling skin—these things, you could endure. You could survive them. Someone once told you that to be beautiful, you had to suffer. And you were just beginning to understand what that meant.

You could endure it all—if it weren’t for the exhaustion. The dehydration. The weakness in your limbs, as if every motion dragged behind it a leaden weight, as if your body itself resisted movement. Your mind, sluggish and slow, seemed to process thoughts through a thick fog. And no matter how hard you tried not to, your brain focused on one thing and one thing only: hunger. Perhaps it was a natural instinct. That didn’t make it any less infuriating.

That’s why soccer practice, especially in the summer, was pure torment. You’d signed up because you wanted to lose weight. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. A path toward the body you’d always dreamed of—like the models gracing the glossy pages of magazines you’d hoarded since childhood. This was supposed to be your chance to finally live in harmony with yourself.

And though you did lose weight, looking in the mirror didn’t make you feel much better. There was always too much of something, somewhere—something that didn’t fit, didn’t belong. You were always chasing the next thing to fix.

The only good thing about the heat was that it gave you an excuse. A convincing one. When you fainted, you could always blame the temperature. So when it happened again during practice, no one seemed particularly surprised. The problem was, it was happening too often. And while people may not have openly worried, they definitely started paying attention. Yes, the heat was brutal, and most of the girls thought practicing under the burning sun was torture—but none of them collapsed as often as you did.

Naturally, the questions began. Shauna and Natalie were always the first to reach you. Natalie would grab a water bottle without hesitation, pouring it over your face in an attempt to revive you, while Shauna, in her soft and steady voice, murmured reassurances: that they’d have you back on your feet in no time.

And then, as always, when the world began to make sense again, Van would be at your side. She’d already ripped off her goalie gloves—gloves that, for fuck sake, smelled even worse in the heat—and made sure you sat for a bit before returning to the field.

“Hey, again...?” she’d ask quietly, frowning with concern. She’d study your face so intently that sometimes you wondered if Van could see something you yourself couldn’t.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you’d say, drawing a shaky breath as you sipped from the bottle. “It’s just the heat. I’m definitely not built for…”

That was usually when Jackie showed up. She’d purse her lips, displeased that you’d passed out again, but she never commented on it. You never got the lecture other girls did. You always had the strange feeling that Jackie understood. There was something about the way she carried herself that made you believe she saw you more clearly than anyone else. Sometimes, you’d catch her in the bathroom wiping her mouth after coming out of a stall. Other times, you watched her steal fries off Shauna’s plate without ever ordering any herself.

“Van,” Jackie would say in that captain’s tone of hers, as she stood there watching you, “maybe take her to the locker room?”

For the briefest moment, something softened in her eyes—but it vanished as quickly as it came. Moments later, she was already rounding up the Yellowjackets like nothing had happened. Fainting had become part of the routine.

Still, you’d never been more grateful to Jackie. Getting changed by yourself was already uncomfortable. But changing in front of others made your hands tremble and your jaw clench so tightly your teeth ached for hours afterward. Even though Van always seemed to let her gaze linger on you a few seconds too long, somehow, changing in front of her wasn’t so bad. Not when she kept talking the whole time, unknowingly helping you push your thoughts away.

"Think you can stand?" she asked, raising her brows — but before you could even begin to answer, her arm was already around you, gently helping you to your feet. If she was surprised by how light you’d become, she didn’t say a word. Her fingers brushed against your ribs, and you recoiled as if scalded. You didn’t want Van to feel what you yourself had long since stopped accepting.

"I’m fine, really," you said. The world tilted slightly, black spots dancing at the edge of your vision. You blinked rapidly to chase them away. Van still caught your wrist, just in case you decided to go crashing face-first onto the field and end up worse than before.

She watched you the entire walk to the locker room — like she was afraid you might fall apart the second she looked away. You were fairly certain Van had begun to notice. Maybe she didn’t fully understand what she was seeing, or what it meant, but it was hard to ignore the fainting, the fatigue, and the fact that… she rarely saw you eat.

"You think you can manage changing on your own, or…?" she asked, flashing a goofy grin as she helped lower you onto the bench. "You know, I could help…"

She started off with confidence, but a faint blush crept over her cheeks — one that clearly had nothing to do with the heat. You let out a short laugh, feeling a sliver of tension slip from your shoulders even though your body still felt like paper.

"I’ll be okay, thanks," you waved her off gently. Van nodded, trying to mask the flicker of disappointment, and obediently sat beside you — though by the way she fidgeted, you could tell it was taking effort to keep even that small distance.

Van had always… felt something for you. At least that’s how it seemed. The lingering glances, the way she tried harder to make you laugh than anyone else, the way she always sat next to you during lunch in the cafeteria. It all pointed somewhere.

The problem was, maybe you didn’t want to fully acknowledge any of it.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel the same. It was just… you couldn’t imagine what that would even look like. You couldn’t picture yourself in anything — let alone a relationship. And Van, for her part, had never pushed. Maybe because she wasn’t sure you even liked girls. The two of you had never quite met in the middle.

Now, she was watching you with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes — where concern lived instead. You had the sense she wanted to ask. Maybe about when you last ate. But the question never came. You turned away, focusing on untying your cleats.

"Hurry up before the whole royal court shows up," she teased, trying to make a joke. So you smiled — a small thank-you for the effort.

Van parted her lips slightly, her gaze drilling a hole into the side of your head. And for a brief second, you wondered if this wasn’t just a stupid high school crush.

Your stomach twisted, and this time it wasn’t from hunger.

The worst moments always came after a win. And okay, maybe that sounds strange, but that’s how it was. As part of the tradition, you’d all gather and head out somewhere—usually that one particular diner—to stuff yourselves with food. That’s why you always declined. It wasn’t even about whether you thought you’d earned it. You had played well. You’d done your part. Sometimes you were even tempted to go. You liked them. You wanted to be with them. Just a normal teenager.

But the fear of gaining weight was stronger.

Van was always the most persistent. She often turned it into a joke—sometimes grabbing you from behind and refusing to let go until you came up with some excuse, which she’d finally accept. Sometimes she tickled you, claiming she wouldn’t stop unless you said yes. In those moments, you almost felt normal. Almost—because the second you thought of a plausible excuse, guilt clenched your chest even harder.

You didn’t want to lie to her. Especially not when Van would wilt a little, nodding in quiet defeat. But Van wouldn’t understand. Not when even you didn’t.

“Next time, Van. I promise.”

But next time never came.

She’d tried a few times to invite you out. In her mind, she was asking you on a date. Even if you didn’t quite realize it at the time. Eventually, Van must have started to suspect the issue ran deeper. That’s why you said no. Every single time.

You rarely ate. You always shook your head when she offered you a granola bar or a can of Coke, even though the smell made your stomach twist, and for a fleeting second, you wanted to give in. Van was hard to say no to. But the voice in your head was harder.

“You’re wearing yourself out,” Van had said once in the locker room. You shrugged. If she thought it was just the murderous practices, fine. That was better than being seen as the freak who starved herself.

“I’m fine,” you insisted. “Just a weak immune system. I just need to catch up on sleep.”

You repeated it like a mantra. And though Van always looked like she wanted to argue—wanted to say even a blind person could see something was wrong, that no one else fainted as often as you did, or lost focus mid-practice—

She didn’t.

Of course, it started to affect your game—your endurance, your reaction time. Others noticed. They asked questions. But they always ran into your laugh, that wall of forced nonchalance.

“Everything’s fine. Just school. Parents. Tired, that’s all...”

They bought it. At first, they squinted, unsure. But eventually they nodded. Maybe they didn’t want to know the truth. Maybe it was too ugly to start poking at.

Jackie was the only one who never asked. Shauna and Taissa seemed like they knew, but didn’t know how to reach you. Natalie and Lottie had too much chaos of their own.

But Van wanted to know. She wanted to help. To fix it. Maybe because she wore the mark of a child of an alcoholic, and she needed to save you before it was too late. Before what happened to her mother happened to you.

But she was scared. And she didn’t know where to start.

And then everything—if such a thing was possible—got worse. The plane crashed on the way to Nationals.

For the first time in your life, hunger began to truly torment you. Especially since you couldn't suppress it with something as simple as chewing gum. All you had left was water, and that did the worst job of fooling your brain. For the first time, you learned what it meant to vomit from hunger. Sure, you'd made yourself throw up before—had even become skilled at it—but nothing prepared you for the convulsions that overtook you now.

Everyone was terrified, too focused on the simple fact that they had to survive on their own to notice you weren’t eating. There was no longer the luxury of feeling full. You hadn’t experienced it in a long time, so you figured you were the best equipped to deal with starvation. To be useful, you began secretly giving your rations to others.

You even volunteered to help Shauna distribute the portions. At first, it was harder. Shauna talked with you about anything and everything just to distract herself from slicing the meat that used to be a deer. In the fall, when Jackie was still alive and there was enough food to hush the growling in everyone’s stomachs, Shauna had carefully divided the rations.

Things changed drastically with the arrival of winter. When Jackie was swallowed by the biting cold, the rest started to believe in strange wilderness bullshit that you didn’t even want to understand. Even Van got involved. You didn’t comment—at least she had something to keep her mind occupied. At least she thought less about the hunger.

It became easier to pass on your portions. Shauna paid less attention, or maybe she simply no longer cared. It was hard to blame her. She hadn’t wanted you to help her in the first place, but eventually, you managed to convince her. Not that she was thrilled.

You told yourself this was how you helped. That someone else would eat more, that someone else would make it to tomorrow. You repeated that you were the best person to sacrifice in this way. That you were better at managing the hunger. No matter how tempting the dripping stew meat looked.

The vomiting got worse. And maybe you couldn’t eliminate the awful, omnipresent hunger that reigned in the cabin, but you convinced yourself you were doing something. And in a place like this, it was hard to hold on to any sense of purpose.

Life had turned into survival. Into slow days spent inside the cabin, while outside, the cold and snow swallowed everything up to your ankles. You were convinced you wouldn’t last much longer.

But Van had no intention of watching you waste away. Because, as always, Van noticed. She noticed there was slightly more meat in her bowl. She noticed you looked worse than the rest. Too thin even for these brutal conditions. Suddenly, Van regretted not asking sooner. She should have asked sooner. She should have pushed harder. Even if she wasn’t sure what exactly she was dealing with. How was she supposed to bring it up now? In these conditions, when everyone was starving?

So Van decided to act. She didn’t think confronting you would do any good. She was afraid she’d scare you off if she brought it up directly. Besides, you could easily lie your way out of it—just like you had countless times before the crash. If it had been easy then, it would be even easier now.

Action seemed like the better option. She had plenty of time to think in the awfully quiet, freezing cabin. She swore she’d keep you alive. Maybe she felt something more for you, but above all, she was your friend. And she wasn’t about to let you martyr yourself to death.

So one day, she set aside part of her meal and dropped down beside you. The floorboards creaked beneath her weight and you stared at her with wide eyes when she offered you a bowl filled with a few pieces of meat. Your gaze darted between the food and her. You blinked. Once. Twice. Van just smiled and placed the bowl in your lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I thought we could eat together," she said, popping the first bite into her mouth. Your eyes seemed glued to the tiny bowl resting on your legs, as if eating it would poison you. So Van did what she did best—she talked.

"I know this might not be your dream date," she joked, watching you. "It’s not mine either, but it’ll have to do for now, right?" She laughed softly. Then she paused, reading the look on your face, and cleared her throat. Quieter now, with that gentle smile she saved only for you, she added:

"I’d like... to take you out for a soft pretzel in New York someday." She confessed it softly, and finally, your eyes met hers. Your hands, driven more by survival instinct than will, clutched the bowl. Van pretended not to notice. She hoped that messed-up will to live would be enough to get you to eat. "A real date," she finished.

She said it out loud. No more jokes. She figured they could all be dead tomorrow anyway, and she might be wasting her last chance. There were already too many unspoken things between you.

"Van..." you croaked, but she shook her head. Maybe that could wait. First, she needed to make sure you’d eat. Something. Anything.

"Will you eat with me?" she asked, and it was as if you remembered the bowl again. "I can help you..."

Van was ready for rejection. She truly expected you to refuse. What she didn’t expect was for you to take the bowl in your trembling hands and inhale the aroma.

Turned out, that one time, survival instinct was stronger. Van quickly set her own bowl aside and took yours gently. You were so weak she doubted you could even feed yourself.

So that night, she fed you. Bite by bite, heart pounding loudly in her chest. She made sure you chewed everything properly, and stopped offering food when you said you’d had enough. She didn’t want to risk making you sick. Her hands trembled too, though not like yours. She kept talking, telling you the plot of the first movie that came to her mind.

When you were done, she wiped your mouth and slumped beside you, finishing her own portion. You hadn’t eaten everything. But you’d eaten something. And for now, that had to be enough. Now she had to figure out what movie to tell you about next time.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x you #my writing #van palmer x you #van palmer x reader #vanessa palmer #van palmer

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passionwillow · 2 days ago

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nsfw alphabet w anakin? idk if u write for him but i’m loving the star wars content <3

Anakin Skywalker - NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Soooo needy and handsy and affectionate. He might not always be the best at cleaning you up after, he just wants to cuddle. He comes down from that high and just tugs you into his side, kissing and nuzzling your face as he mumbles to you. "I love you, darling, so much."

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your boobs!! He is a boob man!!! He loves to kiss and bite and suck at them, use them as pillows. If you wear any sort of revealing clothes or show just the tiniest bit of cleavage he can't focus. He's so gone.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He isn't really picky. He'll cum anywhere: your thighs, stomach, chest, face, inside you. He doesn't really have a preference! Wherever you're comfortable is good enough for him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He'd love it if you took control. Bossed him around, tied him up, made him squirm and struggle. Being at your mercy, the person he loves the most? It would drive him insane.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very. He's been training most his life, and you were the first person he ever fell in love with. A lot of what he knows and enjoys, he's learned with you along the way.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary! He loves being able to see you, look into your eyes, kiss and touch you as much as possible when you guys are having sex. Bodies pressed together, your legs around his waist, forehead against yours as you kiss passionately.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Definitely serious. He's so focused and intent on you and your pleasure, making sure you're getting the best attention. He might smile and laugh sometimes, but mostly he's intense and gazing at you with so much love.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dark blonde pubes, almost brown, and he keeps it trimmed up nice. He likes to keep himself looking presentable for you, but sometimes when things are busy he doesn't get around to it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

So intimate. So romantic. He loves eye contact, loves saying the sweetest things to you while he's stretching you open, and he's always so attentive to your needs.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

More than he'd like to admit. When he's away on missions and can't have you near, he sometimes has to relieve himself. He isn't too keen on it he'd rather wait, but sometimes he just needs to focus himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Spanking, handcuffs, orgasm denial. He loves to tease you and bring you to the edge just to deny you and watch you curse at him. He knows when he finally lets you go it's going to be mind-blowing.

He loves to restrain you. The fact you just him enough to let him is more of a turn on than the fact you're at his mercy.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers having you in the bedroom. Quiet, isolated, comfortable, the space for you guys to do what you want. It's more spacious than closets or quickies in an empty room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Pretty much anything, but mostly stress. You take his mind off his worries, and it gives him a distraction, being able to lose himself in you and with you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you in any capacity is off the table. He also doesn't want to do anything to make you feel embarrassed. Your comfort is the most important thing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's learned his way around and is definitely skilled. He prefers giving just as much as receiving. He loves seeing his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips around his shaft.

But he also loves tasting you on his tongue, watching your face as he lays between your legs. The way your legs tremble, back arching..

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both! Sometimes he wants to be slow, take his time and be gentle with you. And othertimes he's so angry and frustrated that pounding you into the bed and being a little rougher sounds like heaven.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not too keen. He'd rather have the times to really focus on one another and enjoy the moment, but if you're desperate, he can't say no.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Experimenting is good with him, and the risk of getting caught entices him. He doesn't like hiding the fact you're together and couldn't give a damn if anyone knows. But he has limits, he isn't going to try anything that could hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man?? Hang on for dear life. He can easily go 3-4 rounds if not more some days, and he doesn't need many breaks.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's obsessed with using toys on you. He loves to try new things with you like a vibrator or handcuffs, even nipple clamps (he secretly wants you to try them on him).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he can be meeeeean. He will hold out all day after teasing you. Soft touches, filthy words in your ear, sultry looks. He'll have you so worked up you just pounce on his after the day is over.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He can get loud. Like- cover his mouth and muffle him before you get caught loud. He usually has to bite at your shoulder or neck to quiet himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves it when you play with his hair. Especially during sex. Feeling your fingers on his scalp, tugging and playing with the locks.. It always sends shivers down his spine and makes him squirm.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Pretty normal/average. 5ish inches, a little thicker than most guys. Dark blonde pubes that he keeps trimmed nice.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. He can focus on the tasks at hand and push his desires to the back of his mind, but sometimes he just can't help himself and has to pull you aside, softly begging for you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not very quick. He's holding you close and kissing your temple and forehead, watching you relax in his arms and waiting for you to sleep. He stays up for awhile after, thinking about things before he doses.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x plussized reader

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mtcloudsworld · 15 hours ago

Note

What do you hc your jason to look like

Anon has requested what my HC would be for Jason and I didn't think much about doing one myself but now that I've got some ideas in place, it's a pretty lengthy hc than intended😅 Warning: I did make the reader more personal than expected, I kinda got lost in the sauce and was having way too much fun with it. It is black!fem/college!reader based HC because that is what I can relate to.

I can understand if most of you won't read it cause it's not generalized but I just really had fun placing my personal life into a reader who may relate to what I've gone through in some way (hopefully that made sense 💀)

Tbh, if you can relate, you can relate. If not, then my apologies. This was just a really fun thing for me to do and think about. But it's not like I can't do another one so 🤷🏾‍♀️ with that being said, enjoy!

Please ignore any errors. Like, comment and reblog

─☁️

𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑑'𝑠 𝐴𝐵𝐶 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆

۫ ִ✶ ࣪ Warning | nsfw/sfw, +18, mdni, black!fem reader, college student, boyfriend!Jason, husband!Jason, friends to lovers, black!fem reader is described in the way I want, if you can't relate that's okay. I just found this to be fun to do and imagine, plus!size reader, curvaceous, introverted!reader, wifeblackfem!reader, sweet! Jason, protective!Jason, dom/sub, mentions of insecurities, trust issues, trauma and abuse, losing v card, intercourse, marriage

𝐽𝑎𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑇𝑜𝑑𝑑'𝑠 𝐴𝐵𝐶 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 𝑣𝑖𝑠𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑠

𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑣𝑒 ; 𝑚𝑡𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑑𝑠𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 ; 𝐼𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦

𝑨 = 𝐴𝑐𝑡𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒

Sometimes your independence can get the best of you. Actions speak louder than words though and best believe you don't have to ask Jason to do a damn thing because he's already ten steps ahead.

Oh, the dishes are already taken care of? Sweet.

Oh how sweet, he did the laundry this morning!

*Sniffs the air* is that... Alfredo I smell?

Oh yeah, baby, Jason's got it all taken care of. There's no reason to fret, no reason for you to get frustrated or stressed to the point you want to pluck your braids from out your head. He follows through with his word. If he says he's gonna do something, consider it as if he just signed a contract with his blood.

Despite trying to receive practical support, you can feel the trust in his promises through and through. He shows up and shows out when you least expect it. And it's not like you ask him to do these things or, once again, expect him to do it because he's your boyfriend. No, in your mind it's your responsibility it's your shit to deal with, not his. Understand he does it because he sees your struggling, he sees your stress and cares for your well being. If you can do it with his problems best believe he's gonna do the same for you.

And you grow to love that about him. You love that Jason goes out of his way to take care of you, especially as a full time college student working the night shift who has studies almost every single day? It's a relief to come back home and see the apartment spotless, opening the fridge to see food ready to be eaten, and a text message (that you failed to look at) list the things he did while you were away.

Now you're not one to be emotional but best believe you may have felt a tear or two slide down your cheeks while mentally yelling, OH MY SHAYLAAAA, MY SHAYLAAAA!!!

He's attentive, boo boo, that's his specialty. He notices every little obstacle in your way.

And please don't think he doesn't love the fact you can take care of yourself, because he does. Oh, he is more than happy that you have self reliance, but he's here now ── he's present. Asking for help doesn't make you weak, it doesn't make you a bother. In fact, it lets him know you can trust him. You trust him to do these things for you unconditionally.

"Thank you." The book is forgotten the moment you slip yourself on top of him comfortably. You feel the deep rumble beneath his chest as you lay your face against his pec. The book is marked and placed on the floor. Bulky arms engulfing you into a bear hug. Your body laxes and your mind goes mush. The feeling of his face buried into your braids, leaving kisses to your crown while massaging the nape of your neck, makes everything around you grow peacefully still. "No need, baby. I got you."

𝐵 = 𝐵𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡

He loves you. Every part of you, sexually and nonsexually of course. But if he had to choose his favorite body part on you, it'd be your thighs.

Mhmmm, those thighs. Those beautiful sexy thick thighs of yours? They just do something to him.

The size of them? Their perfect. Perfectly perfect for rh size of his hand to grope on. His hand practically occupies most of the space. The way he squeezes it, how his hand effortlessly slips between them to feel your warmth and allow his thumb to caress and sooth over your soft bronze skin, makes him feel so laxed. It lets you know he is feeling some type of way and just need you're attention for good, hot, minute.

I mean how could you deny them? They're so plump and plush, and the way your stretch marks adored them really makes him salivate at the sight. He loves how your legs effortlessly reach for him with the quickness, when you want his attention, when you want to talk to him, have eye to eye contact, wanting to crave him. Your determination drives you to wrap them around his waist, pulling him back and trapping him between your lucious thighs. You watch with a smirk how his eyes widen at the gesture, bringing yourself to wrap your arms around his neck and push your tits against him. "Where do you think you're going Mista?"

Most importantly, your thighs never fail to suffocate him when you sit on his face. He loves to smother himself into your skin, allowing his rough veiny hands to caress up the gentle parts of your body, groping at your ass to push your cunt further down for more.

It's safe to say, you're content to know he could die happily by them.

For you, it's not necessarily a "body part" but a part of his body. It's his voice. Like how he is with your thighs? It's the same way for you with his voice. The deep raspy baritone in his voice every time he calls you mama or mamas, baby or dollface makes your panties soak. His moans, whimpers and groans, ugh!! When he's being flirtatious and needy with you he has a way of being charming and cocky with you but also there's a tender side of him that makes you fall deeper.

You're proud to know he's comfortable showing his skin, whether that's walking around shirtless in only sweats or basketball shorts. He can approach you in just a towel with his hair soaking wet and tussled knowing that you wouldn't judge him of his scar or the huge Y at his torso. You practically gleam when he gets out of bed after a moment of intimacy with you to stretch his limbs showing off every aspect himself to you in the naked eye.

Nothing, preferably you liked him in nothing. Why? Because that body of his was made by the gods themselves, Lazarus pit or not. In a bashful yet proud way, he's happy knowing that you love how massive and bulky he is compared to you. At first he wasn't used to the shower of compliments and praises, he didn't know how to take it all. But the more he opened up to you, the more he grew to love your crazy obsession for him.

His autopsy scar beneath your lips isn't bothersome as you litter kisses over his chest, appreciating every little thing about him. Cyan eyes observe how you maneuver yourself between his legs. Hands wrapping delicately around his thick cock, he stiffens a little as you start to kiss along the underside of his cock, slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft, you feel the way he twitches at the palm of your hand. "It's okay baby?" Heart eyes gazing up at him for approval. He hums in response, reaching down to cup your face, brushing his thumb along your cheek to feel the tender texture of your velvet flesh makes his heart beat faster as a rush of excitement runs through him.

You start to tease him at first, leaving open mouth kisses at the base, dragging your lips up the underside of him to then lick and suck at the beautiful blush colored tip. You gradually invite him into your mouth. The warm embrace of your mouth engulfing around him makes your cheeks hollow. As you take him little by little, stroking him in the process, it brings his body into deep euphoria. Head lulling back into the pillow and eyes flickering close, a deep throat moan is heard as he feels your hands placed at the center of his thighs. "Mm, shit. Such a good girl for me, mama." He praises with sultry, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as you bob your head slowly. "So sweet for me. Such a sweet girl. Just know how to treat me..so well-- f-fuck." His eyes flicker shut, listening to how you suck him off tenderly at the tip before allowing your tongue to swirl round and around and around, "Mm, take me baby, take all of me. Fuck, that's it mama, show me--ugh, show me just how much of a good girl you are. Uh huh, that's it baby, go faster for me. Yes that's it." He whimper moans at the way your mouth messily deep throat him, slopper starting to roll down to his pubic hair where you then go to deep throat him.

He groans as a wave of pleasure runs through his veins, you sense the way his hand rests at the top of your head, using you as leverage to start deep fucking your mouth. He hears and feels you start to choke, your throat closing in on him just in time to feel his seed. You pull away breathless, observing the mess you made give his dick a pretty little shine underneath the limelight. Jason runs his fingers through his hair shocked by the short amount of time you made him cum. Though he didn't mean it, you didn't look at him with judgement or disgust. Nah, you looked to him with pride, bringing yourself to straddle on top of him and give him a passionate wet kiss. He groans at the feeling of you welcoming his fat cock to your needy soaking hole, shared juices playing as lubricant for him to slip right in you. With ease, the girth of him stretches you out more and more as you start to bounce back on him.

𝐶 = 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

Communication with Jason was... rocky at the start of the relationship. Especially when he was hiding his past and the fact that he was Red Hood. He knew if you got caught up in the mix of all his mess that would not only be detrimental to you and your safety but also to your shared relationship. Although he didn't want to hide this major part of his life from you and lie about every little thing, he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't lose you, that would be the death of him.

Then again, It was infuriating having all these unanswered questions left untouched.

And Jason knew you weren't stupid, you were attentive to the things he said and the things he does. He could see it all over your face. You're a very patient woman, always slow to anger with him. But that night in particular? The way your face twisted bitterly with worry and frustration in your eyes while you dabbed the alcohol covered cotton ball against the cut along his cheek. He dared to lock gazes with you.

No words are shared but he can see the hesitation, the wanting to furiously question every little thing, to argue and force him to tell you what the hell is going on.

But you don't.

Instead you sigh, bandage his cut and stand up to throw away the rest of the trash.

Your quiet. Too quiet and that's never a good sign. But you chose to be knowing if you argue with him it'll drive a wedge between you. And he hates it. The overwhelming tension and silence in the air, he hates it. He hates how distant you are. He hates how the bridge keeps growing longer and longer the more he dodges your questions. Because when you turn to walk away, you feel the firm yet tender grasp of his hand reach out for you. Pleading for you to come back, he pulls you into his embrace-- and you cling to him like a vest. Like your life depends on it. and he can't help but bury his face into your hair, telling you, "Please, please understand it's not that I don't want to tell you because I do. I just..." Sigh, "I can't risk it.* You feel his arms hold you tighter. *I can't risk losing you because of it. I can't bear the idea of you getting hurt by it. I just...can't let anybody know about you. Not yet." Not his family, not his friends, not the world or his enemies, could know a thing about you. He couldn't think of the worst possibility of someone finding out.

And after a moment of silence, you break.."I just want to be aware, Jason, I don't want be blind sided by whatever this is" your voice is shaky, so soft, so...broken. like the walls of Jericho falling at his feet. Your guard is down, allowing your tears to wet at his hoodie and it surprises him. He's so used to seeing you tough, being able to handle things without breaking down. You're never this emotional. Never this intense to the point of crying, and you hate crying, you hate showing your vulnerability. You hate being this intense about the situation. But because of your trauma, because of your past, the empty promises, hidden secrets and lies it's gotten you to this point.

You care and it shows in the way you fight with him about this. The way you fight with him just shows he's always on your mind. "I just.." you're trying not to cry, your hand clenching at his hoodie as you bury your face into his chest. "I just wanna know you're okay that's it, that's all I ask."

He groans internally. "It's not...safe. there's a possibility I could get hurt, to the point of death. It could make me go radio silent for months upon months and then come back acting like nothing had ever happened, it could become triggering for me but I know I need to do it."

There's a silence. A silence that has your mind spinning and you'll pull away, take a moment, bat your soaked lashes at him and say, "and when that happens? Can you give me a sign? A text or something to let me know of these things? I won't ask you, I won't... force you to tell me until you're ready but for the sake of my mental and not being left in the dark, all I need to know is that you're okay or that you're gonna be gone for awhile?"

His jaw clenches and he nods in consideration.

I love you endlessly.

The first time you saw that text it made your world stop. Okay, it's happening. It's..time.

A shared phrase, a shared promise, a shared code. He's gonna be gone for awhile but best believe you're the only one he's coming back to.

You eventually find out near the brink of death who he truly was. The worst time to find out but because you were his emergency contact someone had to know he was okay (Which some would find weird since his family was there with him but when shit hit the fan and he has no other options.) You were the only person to call when he found himself in a pickle. When he couldn't tell you himself what's going on. You had the right to know the whereabouts of your lover.

Your mind was swirling when you found out Bruce Wayne was his adoptive father, that Dick Grayson and the rest of the bat family were all his siblings that happened to be the most famous vigilantes in all of Gotham.

You stood before him, laid in bed unconscious with a heart monitor, IV bag attached to his vein and any other machine to make sure his body doesn't crash, feeling nothing but relief, confusion and worry.

"He talks about you ya know?"

"I didn't know, any of it, I swear I didn't."

Bruce nods in understanding. "He has his reasoning, all of us does. Its not your fault. It just comes with the job. However, we're glad to know he has someone other than us to rely on. You clearly care, if you didn't you wouldn't have rushed down here crying and asking what happened.

"I love him. I wouldnt want this for him but I do understand. I understand that this is just part of his life and that I have to adjust."

"ya know you don't have to. You have every right to walk away. It may hurt but we understand."

Your jaw clenches at the idea, walking away? After everything you've been through? Not a chance.

"I can accept this."

"Can you really?" Damian asks, moving to stand beside his father. "Can you really accept the fact that one day his life will be on the line? That you and your future may be in danger because of it? Can you really be that stupid to stand here and say you can handle any of this?"

"If it all means being by his side, cleaning his wounds, hiding his identity, hiding your identity-- taking care of him through and through, yes I can handle all of this." Your answer was serious as you gazed back at the youngest out of all of them, "If you love someone that much you'd do just about anything for them, wouldn't you? I would. I would because he deserves to know someone is in his corner, waiting for him at the end of the tunnel, he deserves that much support no matter what."

Bruce and the rest didn't say much more after that.

You stayed at the manor majority of Jason's time of healing. He wasn't exactly happy about it but talking your way out of it was no use. You were as stubborn as a mule.

Alfred and Bruce made effort in taking you to campus and picking you up after work. You made some time getting to know the Wayne family for who they were. You'd let Alfred take a break from caring for Jason as it had been a minute since you last saw him.

And after dressing his wounds, you'd feel him reach up to twirl a braid between his fingers grasping your attention. A small smile plays on your lips. Your fingers reach over to brush the white strands from his face before proceeding to caress at his cheek. "How are you feeling?"

He grunts, pondering in thought as glances over himself. "Like a bus ran me over ten times over." His humor was dry, but a smirk still appeared onto his lips when hears you stifle a laugh. "Yeah, well next time? Maybe look both ways before crossing okay?"

"Hm, duly noted."

You shake you're head with a smile pulling away to throw the trash. You come back and sit on the side of the bed gazing over his healed face. You notice how his face grows serious. He gulps, brows knitted as he's now in deep thought. He looks to you with hesitation, wanting to say a lot but don't know how.

"Y/n, I--" he gulps, lips parted a little. "I..I don't know what to say. I'm sorry I really am I just─" his lips twist to the side. Trying to find the words to say but can't bring himself to. He's frustrated with himself. Frustrated that it came down to this in this way. It's all out of fear. Fear of losing you. Fear of losing this relationship. Scared that you might reject everything because of his lifestyle

"Don't."

Your gazes lock. You give him a reassured smile, allowing your fingers to entwine in comfort. "You don't have to tell me now. I'm not expecting an explanation right off the bat. For now, just heal and rest, please?"

He was hesitant at first but nods, placing a kiss at the center of your hand.

𝐷 = 𝐷𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠

Jason was a nervous wreck when he asked you out. He thought he was supposed to show off and what not but really you were simple and subtle. You found it cute when he'd make a fool of himself, giggle when he'd say something stupid. You'd hold onto his arm, strolling down the sidewalk after leaving the restaurant and tell him I really had fun tonight, it was sweet, but please don't think I'm the kind of girl who loves all that fancy shit. I mean it's gorgeous don't get me wrong but I'm not into all that.

Dates with you were never difficult. If Jason had planned something ahead of time, you were usually satisfied. If he didn't, you're indecisive, unsure of what you want. Jason would start listing things, anything that sounds remotely good or he'll suggest a new restaurant or whatever and that usually goes well.

You're not the kind of girl to go to fancy restaurants where you have to dress up, drink wine, where the chandelier is dazzling approve you, and ballroom music is playing in the background. You didn't need all that expensive shit, y'all had enough of doing that at Bruce's galas.

It wasn't you and it wasn't Jay either.

A good ol' family diner, Italian restaurant, bowling, seafood or soul food spot, movie theater or drive in theater, Korean restaurant etc was just enough to get you out of your norm. For more quieter spaces such as a cafe or a library where it's subtle and cute was more up your alley.

There have been a few times where you'd spend your time on the fire scape and watch the sun set on the horizon or stargaze in each other's arms.

And if you weren't ready to end the night, a good ol' ride around the city became the cherry on the top.

"You so cute," Jason coos, smirking from ear to ear, "such a Tatortot." Your eyes roll playfully and your lips smack at the annoying ass nickname. Although you hated it you couldn't deny the burning along your cheeks and the meekness on your face when he pulls you into his embrace. With a cute pout your head turns to the side as you sway from left to right, "Mm, you know you love it." Listening to him speak sweetly to you, you feel how he kisses up your neck, leaving lingering kisses to your flesh while he drags his nose along the underside of your jaw, smelling the scent of strawberries and vanilla through his nose. "Yeah, yeah, yeah...I love you too." You say before feeling the deep baritone of his chuckle beneath his chest.

𝐸 = 𝐸𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒

Neither of you knew what you were doing. Neither of you were experienced. You were both virgins at heart but your minds were anything but innocent, body yearning, body wanting. Both equally attentive, nurturing and loving. Y'all learned through and through how to take care of each other's bodies like a temple.

The closest thing to anything remotely sexual was masturbation and oral sex. Undoubtedly you both craved for it, wanted it, needed it beyond what you were used to. At first you took things slow, gentle essence with grace, no need to chase the high when both of you wanted to enjoy the expanse of bliss running through your veins.

𝐹 = 𝐹𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

It might take y'all some time to cool off.

You're a very patient woman who is slow to anger, you're not quick to assume but sometimes your thoughts want to lead you to it. And once you're at that point, it's hard to snap back out of it. You need to collect your thoughts and come back with a sound mind. You can't talk to Jason when you're angry because you may say some unnecessary things, your voice may get loud out of anger and feeling like your patience wearing thin.

And after you two are able to sit down and talk like adults, I can say you are quick to apologize if you're in the wrong and quick to forgive if he's in the wrong. Undoubtedly you hate being mad at each other for so long but there are times when you just need space.

If there was ever a time Jason were to get mad at you, I can imagine Jason being the same way. He doesn't like raising his voice but it can overpower you. Just because he's mad and you aren't on speaking terms doesn't mean he's gonna stop caring for you. He's not gonna stop watching over you when you head back home from work. Tracking your every move. Making sure your drinking enough water, eating, resting, taking breaks in between studies. He's still gonna do the things he needs to do, kiss you on the cheek and tell you that he loves you before leaving.

𝐺 = 𝐺𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑

This man is your protector through and through.

Tracking devices, security systems and weapons of every kind is much needed when dating a vigilante, you are bound to be protected at all costs. He can't risk losing you to foolishness, can't risk you getting hurt. As Red Hood, he watches over you nightly, jumping from rooftop to rooftop he makes sure that you are home from work safe and sound. I'm telling you this man does daily check ins to make sure you're good. Jason is definitely the type to live, die, and breath by you. He'd jump in front of a bullet, a car, a moving train just for your safety. He's just that reckless when it comes to you and although you hate to think of something so damaging, it's the reality of his world.

𝐻 = 𝐻𝑎𝑖𝑟

I could imagine Jason being so caught up with his own shit he'd forget to care for himself. He's not worried about himself right now, he's worried about cracking this damn case. Now that he has you, he makes sure he's got a nice shave and clean cut. As far as pubic hair goes that's really up to you, he doesn't really have a problem with that. You do love the happy trail that leads into his pants, especially when he's shirtless and just wearing a pair of sweatpants. Mhmmm.

You barely grow hair. Your friends call you a hairless cat because you never had to shave your legs. Every girl you've come across was all astonished and jealous of you because of it. They were so smooth like butter, and glossy and moisturized as if you had just shaved. It would explain why Jason has an attraction for your thighs/legs. They're like velvet, they're just so soft to the point he wants to bite them. You barely got hair under your armpits─ you shave them every once and awhile but it's not distracting.

Your curls can be a lot to deal with but you love to wear them out naturally. It's not often you get your hair braided but when you do, Jason can't help but to get all smiley with you. He can't help but to look, (with permission) touch it. He even goes as far as to educate himself with asking questions about how long it takes, how they fo it etc etc etc. The same way you look at your man when he gets a nice cut, is the same way he looks at you, gorgeous and yummy. You always make sure your hair looks good and stays good before it's time to take them down.

With pubic hair, you personally love it clean, if not a clean shave you love when your hair is cut low. Jason doesn't necessarily have a preference. As long as you keep yourself clean and squeaky, he doesn't care.

𝐼 = 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑐𝑦

Intimacy started with innocence and uncertainty. Equally unsure of how this should go. Insecurity came to play and then doubt and hesitation. Both of you had to learn. Step by step. It had to take time. Sweat and tears, effort and patience. Acknowledge each other's likes and dislikes. How to be cared for. How do they like to be kissed? Are they dominate or submissive? Do they like to be overpowered? Overstimulated? Do they like it rough? Slow? Hard? Fast? Etc etc etc. Undoubtedly it took time. Your kinks and all weren't really discovered until later on in the relationship when communication and trust was solid.

It just depends on the timing and mood. You can equally be playful. A painful tease. Turn role play into something deliciously nasty. Due to trauma and abuse, some kinks are experienced more than others. Consent is always key no matter what.

Jason's a switch so he can be rough and possessive, delicate and sweet when he needs to be.

You're assertive and blunt, and most times that kind of takes Jason off guard. You come when he least expects it but it keeps him on his toes and he likes that. He likes how mischievous you can be, how your words can be as charming as the moon, how your eyes constantly look at him with love and hunger at the same time. You care for him with confidence, you know what ticks him off, what drives him insane. You have a mouth on you, but he knows how to handle it, how to punish you.

Though, you can also be submissive and shy.

You haaaate your submissive side, though.

Those are the times you're sexually frustrated and need him to do unimaginable things to your body, it's rough and unforgettable. It leaves your body spent and slumped afterwards.

It's the side that's too shy to ask for it after weeks or months of not getting any. It's the side that Jason adores the most because you are your most purest. The side that wants to be told you're a good girl, that you're doing so well for baby. The side that wants to be clingy and babyed. It's also the side where you're the most compliant, agreeing to almost anything that remotely makes you feel good and cum ten times over. This side doesn't really show until later on in the relationship, after all the tension and rocky moments together have passed. This is the side he loves to lavish on.

Blame it on ovulation if you want, but these are the times─ if you're not careful, where you might get pregnant. You're so desperate, so in tune at the idea of being breeded, of having his cum deep inside you that the consequences aren't really thought of afterwards.

It's the time when you haven't really craved for it in awhile and it just...suddenly hits you. It hits Jay too, but sometimes he's not really thinking about it because he's so deep into his missions. He doesn't neglect it though. Like I said he's very observant, very attentive. He can see it all in your eyes, the way you look at him, stare at him, glare at him─ you're practically fucking him with your eyes. He doesn't do things to intentionally make you a soaking puddle but he does. The way you act. You're like a helpless prey. You're not yourself, even when he touches you your body flinches but you yearn for it. He can tell you're just acting funny yet he's waiting for you to say something. Admittedly, Jason feels the same way too. There are times when he sees you just sitting there innocent minding your business, you're doing school work, stressed out, cooking─ doesn't matter what you're doing he just wants to ravish you. Shower you with praise and worship, fuck you like there's no tomorrow.

The poor boy is starving!

He's more forward than you are, he's asking you to tell him what's wrong, is there anything you need? Is there something he can do? The tension is there and he's on you immediately, begging to hear those sweet sultry words fall from your lips. Begging for you to just say it as plain and simple as 123.

Undoubtedly he's fucking you with no breaks in between, from sun down to sun up. He's fucking you so good to the point that you're crying and sobbing into the sheets, you're pleading for him, desperate for him and only him, you just want him to do his worst on you in the most softest way possible.

You're your most loudest, poutest, whiney moans that are high pitched and whimpering like crazy. This side has a chokehold on him the most because he has you in the palm of his hand.

Undoubtedly sex can make you feel like you're most rawest. You feel bare emotionally, physically, and mentally. You're souls are connected and senses every right and wrong thing about each other.

The aftercare is top tier, five star. Talking through what just happened makes you both feel more open, amenable and vulnerable with your emotions, mental state and well being. There's no hiding the tension, no secrets of any kind─ it's just rapport

𝑱 = 𝐽𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑦

I'm very iffy with this one because you don't really go out much outside of school and work, barely like people as it is so it's rare of you to be at bars/clubs or parties of any sort. I feel he wouldn't be jealous, moreso protective. You're not that kind of girl, so the idea of him being jealous is pretty low. He knows you’re loyal, so there's no reason to be jealous when he already has you. The most he’ll do if he’s jealous is wrap his arm around your neck, pull you in close, cold exterior while glaring at the other person, letting them know that you're obviously taken and going any further would be a big mistake

You're not gonna talk to anybody that's not Jason, point blank period.

Same goes for jason, however I feel like the situation with him would go like from him declining them the first time right? Telling them "Hey I got a girl, back up off me." And if they keep pushing up on him, not getting the obvious. He'll chuckle dryly, knowing in the back of his mind that they're playing a dangerous game and that you're not too far from seeing what's going on. "You might not wanna do that, lady." And if she still aint getting the hint. Best believe you're ass is gonna give it to her. Because no means no, what part of that do you not understand?

𝐾 = 𝐾𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔

Kissing you is like the heavenly flood gates spreading wide open. Kissing you is like a nice massage on a good tuesday night. Kissing you is escapism. Kissing you is listening to the blues under the midnight moon. Kissing you is like wedding bells chiming in the background. Kissing you is like all his problems melting away. Like the world stops spinning. Like time is of the essence but theres no rush through it. Its loving, its tender, its delicate, its gentle-- its a moment to forget everything but you. Though his cheeks may burn, his heart may flutter and body yearn, kissing you is a craving--an addiction he can never let go. Public PDA might not be his forte, but privately? He kisses how he fucks you, possessive and suave, warm and needy, dominating every sense of you. Kissing you gets him love drunk. It's just enough to gain a radiant high from the heavens.

𝐿 = 𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒

His one and only true love. His only exception. The only constant in his life that makes him feel like a good man, that makes him feel worthy of it all. You had a drive, a curiosity, a determination that turned him on. He doesn't talk to anybody else, doesn't show his vulnerability to anybody else and surely doesn't pin someone's home as his safe haven when he's hurt from patrol or just need time to get away from everything── you, you were his only exception.

He couldn't pretend like the feelings weren't there. It struck him like a nerve, like a cord the day he realized. It was sudden, it was quick, it was hard to be nonchlanat when you were standing here looking as good as you do.

His resolve disappeared the moment he leaned over to place a kiss to your lips. Full and juicy, they lingered with love and moved leisurely. He wanted to make sure you felt and tasted every part of him, made sure that this wasn't just any ol' kiss. It meant something. Something so meaningful. Something so out of his norm that it was hard to explain it all in one setting.

His actions were subtle but intentional, and as your lips departed, bodies still close, clinging onto each other. Your faces were still so close, to the point of nudging your nose against his, hood eyes gazing into each other's, there was a pause, a second when things just became...still, "I love you." he breathes, gulping nervously, hands gripping you tighter, scared to let you go. Your eyes flickered up at him, internally shocked.

"I--what?" He stands his ground, "I've...loved you for a while now. Wasn't too sure how else to tell you without being a nervous wreck but.. I do. I love you more than you think. And I know it may be difficult to believe or you're just not ready for it, but I felt you should know."

It takes a minute for you to register everything. For a smile to come on your face, to see the flirtatious yet teasing gaze in your eyes as you pout and coo at him, "You love me, baby?" Your arms move upward around his shoulders feeling yourself melt into his embrace. His hands drifting past your lower hips, making you sway from left to right, smirking like an idiot. "Mmhm, I love you, I love you so much, princess."

𝑀 = 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 (𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑚.ᐣ)

Weekdays; If Jason is lucky, he's usually home before you're awake. Gets himself a quick nap in before cooking you breakfast, preparing you some snacks and lunch for the day before waking you up. You're not a morning person, you hate getting up so damn early!!! You're a night owl at heart, it's hard to go to sleep at a reasonable time, so he has to get you up two hours before to get your body going and what not. Some hugs and kisses, maybe a quickie here and there before dropping you off at campus. Weekends; are your only time to be lazy, to sleep in late, have brunch, take a break from any and everything (and thats only if you don't have upcoming exams) otherwise you're spending most of your time with either Jason, Wayne family and or your friends.

For Jason, insomnia is a bitch. He tries to come home at a reasonable time (and by reasonable, i mean the lastest could be 2 o clock in the morning, but once again it all depends on his missions ya know?) but that never happens so sleep for him is off and on. On rare occasions, he's usually his best when he can sleep for a good 8 hours or so. I could imagine him being a snorer, loud or not. the kind to slot himself up against you and bury his face into your neck as he holds you tight at night, making sure he has that body to body contact helps him feel laxed and know that you are with him safe and sound.

𝑁 = 𝑁𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠

Nicknames for you: ma/mama/mamas, suga plum, buttercup, doll or dollface, baby, sweetheart, princess, tatortot (he uses this when he's being playfully annoying with you, it's funny to see you deadpan at him because you know he's targeting your height), hot pocket (comes into play when you have an attitude or your getting a little snappy at him), babygirl

Nicknames for Jason: pookie, baby, honey bun or bun bun (use this when you want to get something from him), sugar daddy (this is used to be playful, flirtatious, to watch how his face gets all red and shy but he always comes back with something so smooth and slick. It's meant to be funny but you think Jason honestly takes it seriously, in a good way ofc), mi amor, darling, Mista peaches because why not.

𝑂 = 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛

Like I said before at the beginning the relationship was still rocky because Jason was hiding his secret as Red Hood. It was kinda hard to be honest about everything, but when he told you his true lifestyle you took it to heart, and both made a vow to stay honest with each other from there on out. No more lies. No more secrets. Just being bluntly honest about everything, which neither of you had a problem with.

𝑃 = 𝑃𝘩𝑦𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐𝘩

Publicly, PDA isn't too extreme. Y'all are not the average couple where you're constantly on each other. Being by each other's side-- knowing when your presence is near is, in your defense, just enough for you to feel okay. Holding hands in crowded areas helps with your anxiety (the idea of being claustrophobic and people touching you unwillingly makes you cringe and feel icky afterwards.)

Placing his hand on your thigh when you're nervous or anxious (you tend to bounce your knee unknowingly), lower back hand placement-- another way to give you comfort, especially when his fingers slip beneath your shirt and drift over your waist to pull you a little closer, hand kisses, a kiss to your temple or cheek-- it was all just enough for the public eye to see.

Privately, the skin-to-skin contact is a must. Kisses and make out sessions are a must. Bear hugs and cuddles is a must. Feeling your hands run through his hair and scratch at his scalp is enough. Giving each other massages is a must. Big spoon, little spoon kinda love. Making time for each other, communication is a must, just sitting in each other's presence is all that's needed.

𝑄 = 𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒

No distractions—just genuine connection. Deep, meaningful discussions. Doing something enjoyable together, like cooking, playing games, reading together, taking long walks in the park or just simply laying on the couch with your back against his chest, hands entangled, his face burired in the crown of your head playing light r&b music in the background. Times like these you cherish the most, no ones rushing to get anywhere, the time is slow and love is just dazzling in the air.

𝑅 = 𝑅𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠

Spoiled rotten. Both of you-- moreso you, but definitely both. You'd give each other the world, moon and stars, hell even the galaxy. Jason isn't one to ask nor beg for anything because he feels he doesn't deserve it but you give it to him anyway because he does. Same way with you, if you even as look at something for so long, or you wanna buy something from amazon or at a store but you know you can't because you're a broke college student and can't afford shit-- more than likely he has already bought it for you. He always buys your favorite snacks and small little gifts here and there.

"Baby? What's this?" You ask coming over to sit close by him with a pretty cute gift bag in your hand. "Oh, just a lil sum sum for your hard work. Plus, i thought you might like it." He says resting his arm on top of the couch behind your head. He gives you a moment to open it. Watching as your smile turn into a pout as you pull out the gift makes his heart flutter. You turn to look up at him, "You spoil me too much." you expressed sweetly. Jason chuckles, shrugging like it was no big deal with a smirk on his face, "Hm, you deserve it baby. But i believe a 'thank you' would be much appreciated." Your eyes roll playfully hooking your finger over his chain, pulling him down to give him a few kisses before pulling away, "Thank you, mi amor, I love it."

𝑆 = 𝑆 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑆𝑎𝑑

Snacks and cuddles are all you ask for. Venting about it helps a lot. consulting and comforting you is the best. He lets you have your moment, whether angry, sad and happy, he lets you have your moment because feeling emotions is valid, you're able to feel how you feel.

Jason is really good at communicating his feelings with you. Sometimes he'll try to push it off to the side but he knows that won't work in the long run. So having you by his side with a listening ear, catering to him makes him feel content. He just needs to know someone is there for him, that he won't feel belittled or judged for feeling the way he does.

𝑇 = 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛-𝑜𝑓𝑓 '𝑠

Lying, broken promies, secrets are all the reasons you have trust issues with people. I mean, look at the people you have in your circle. Not very many huh? It's the same old story; you've gotten your heart broken way too many times to count. You've witnessed abuse emotional and physical and so opening up to people is very difficult on your part. If you don't like their vibe, or they betrayed you in any type of way. You're cutting them off or ignoring them immediately. Don't even bother asking them to be friends because the answer is no.

We all know Jason ain't the one to follow rules, he despises people who claim to stand for justice but act selfishly or cruelly, wary of people who try to control him or others. Loyalty is important to him, so if you betray him in any kind of way, he ain't taking it lightly. Ain't shit funny about that. He has little patience for people who are all talk and no action, back it up with some proof please, he dares anybody to do so. Lastly, when it comes to you, you're off limits, anyone hurts you, speak to you rudely, touch you nonconsensual-- they're a dead man walking.

Neither of you take any disrespect, discrimination or threat of any kind, don't even think about crossing that line.

𝑈 = 𝑈𝑛𝑖𝑞𝑢𝑒

Your determination and independence is what sold him. You have enough excitement for taking risks just like him. You rebel against the rules every once and while. You're the kind person who knows they have the authority and power to do something for yourself. You don't need anyone's approval for anything. When you want something, you work hard for it. It'll take blood, sweat, and tears but best believe you're gonna get it at the end of the day. The freedom you have over your life. No one else can decide your shit for you, only you can. You're the leader of your life.

His loyalty is what makes you feel secure. You don't ever have to wonder if he's on your side or not, if he's with you and for you. He's proven himself time after time that he's with you till death. He's here and ready. He's willing to do just about anything for you. You've never had someone this down bad for you. Never had someone willing to hold you down. He loves you through and through and wouldn't do anything to betray your trust.

𝑉 = 𝑉𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦

Personally you hated the size of your tits, the pudge of your stomach, your back rolls, the shape of your nose, the gap in your teeth. You just...uggggh ─ had a hard time accepting yourself for you. You're a curvaceous girl, thick in all the right places. You'd believe that you're holding up the most space because of your wide hips. Try to scrunch yourself up as much as possible. In Jason's eyes he doesn't see it that. I mean you take up most of the space in his heart but that's to be expected, that's suppose to happen. You take up his love and mind, you live rent free. He loves every part of you. He loves your gorgeous skin, your curls, your wide smile and the gap between your teeth. You're gorgeous in so many ways. He loves every inch of you.

Now I'm not saying you'd have any operations done to yourself unless there was a medical reason to or you want to lose weight, he's gonna love you regardless. It's not his body to control. What makes you happy will make him happy.

Jason was always insecure with his appearance after the Lazarus pit. Everything about him changed. He always avoided looking himself in the mirror because he just wasn't the same, it's not him, he feels like he's in someone else's body. Stolen someone else's image. He didn't feel attractive, he didn't feel confident in his own skin. It had to take you telling him that he was handsome for him to slowly approach the obvious; that he was a great looking man, sexy as hell. There was nothing wrong with him, scars and all. The shape of his build, the way he towered you like a sky scrapper. The way he could pick you up effortlessly making you feel like a feather.

𝑊 = 𝑊𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

Mr. And Mrs. Jason Todd got a nice ring to it don't it? The day you and Jason decide to get married, it's gonna be subtle and small. Nothing to extragvant but a few of your shared friends and family members will witness this happy moment. I'ma tell you the reception is gonna be chiefs kiss, on and poppin'. The day you both say I do and move on to the next chapter, is the day you will move into your shared home. Somewhere a little safer. A home built from the ground up with security all around. Somewhere closer to your job so that way your not driving miles around. Things are gonna be set in place for when you two are ready for kids. It might even be the time when Jason won't be a vigilante for too long. For when he wants to stay home most of the time with the kids till they've grown up and gone to still and be able to take care of themselves. For when they get spoiled and babyed by everybody. Oh yeah the married life is gonna be different fasho.

𝑋 = 𝑋𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑝𝘩𝑜𝑛𝑒 (𝑊𝘩𝑎𝑡’𝑠 𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔.ᐣ)

Mona Lisa by J-Hope

Soft Spot by Keshi

Her light by Cleo Sol

Stan by 6lack

𝑌 = 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 (𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟.ᐣ)

"Fuck I've missed you so much." He's breathless, hands roaming all across your body groping at the parts of you that made you feel sensitive. "You missed me baby? I can tell the way you're saying my name. Listen to you, so soaking wet." Kisses and love marks are spread all throughout each other's body. And as he crawls himself back up your body. Slotting himself between your legs his dick slides in your pink milky hole, thrusting in and out─ not waisting any time to feel you squeeze around him, clothing him with your warmth and sucking him deeper till he reaches your pillowy cervix. He's cursing underneath his breath feeling like a fish out of water. Your nails digging into the expanse of his back, whining his name as he fucks you so deep and slow. You gasp bucking into him more. "Fuck you're so deep. So fucking deep." you whimper, tilting your head to the side feeling his face bury into your neck. His hands were settled on either side of your head gripping the sheets, his hips swiveling into your pussy with need and greed. You spread your thighs wider, invitingly wanting him to bottom out. You feel sticky and hot, unable to control the hunger that strives you both to bliss. Begging for him to go fast, to dig himself harder. He's fucking you like a damn rag doll. "Mm, cum in me baby, cum in me baby please! I wanna feel it. I wanna be filled to the brim─ s-shit!" You're crying at this point. Tears streaming down the side of your face as you tilt your head back into the pillow. He growls, jaw clenched as he gives it to you ruthlessly now, still so fucking deep. His hips begin to stutter after a while, slamming himself into one last time to feel his dick shoot his warm cum into your womb.

You both can't be far apart from each other. It's a recipe for disaster yet it's the best time to crave for each other. Your touch starved and in need of attention. It's hard when he's on his missions because he can't contact you and you can't contact him until he's in the clear. So those times when he's back him standing in front of you, neither of you will be coming out of that bedroom anytime soon.

𝑍 = 𝑍𝑧𝑧

Having you cradled up in his side clinging to him like a life vest with the scent of each other being the last thing on each other's mind is the best sleep either of you could ever ask for. Being secure in the confines of his arms feels like home. It feels like love. It feels like even the world couldn't disturb you no matter how hard it tries.

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angelthefandomobsessed · 2 days ago

Text

Between Teeth, Between Claws, Between Them - Chapter 9 - Leona Kingscholar x Reader x Ruggie Bucchie

Sometimes actions speak louder than words. Sometimes words are just as powerful as actions.

(Masterlist: here)

(Link to AO3: Between Teeth, Between Claws, Between Them - Angel_Ashido - Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own])

༺═────────────═༻

In a bout of evening absentmindedness, your feet had guided you to the coliseum, where a few stragglers were practising their flying. The team’s practice should have finished earlier, but Epel and a few others you recognised as fellow first-years were doing laps around the field.

“Need something?”

Leona was by the coliseum’s entrance, leaning against the railing. While his posture was relaxed, his eyes were sharp and alert; a warrior resting, yet ready for battle.

“No,” you replied. “I was just out walking.”

Savanaclaw’s housewarden made a sound of acknowledgement, before turning back to his teammates. He watched them execute loops and sharp turns, giving you ample time to study him. You noted how his jaw tightened every so often, how his brows would furrow, how he would release a breath and then ease back to neutrality…

You couldn’t hear his thoughts, but you suspected that these movements were punctuating them.

“They’ve been improving,” Leona decided. “If they keep getting better, Ruggie’ll have to start worrying.”

“Really? I thought that Ruggie was a good player.”

Leona shrugged. “He is. But he spends his time running around after other people. These guys are staying late to secure their spots in next year’s interdorm. Some are vying for a place in the interscholastic tournament. It’s all pie in the sky for them, but it keeps them busy.”

You were about to point out that Ruggie spends most of his time running after Leona, but you bit your tongue. Leona seemed rather wistful - he didn’t need to be brought down. Instead, you scooted toward him, until you were standing shoulder-to-shoulder.

“Even if they don’t make the cut, it won’t be a total waste.”

Leona nudged closer to you, pressing his bicep into your arm. “What? Because they’ll have made friends along the way or somethin’?”

“Because they seem happy,” you pointed out. “And they’re doing something they enjoy. I think that makes it worthwhile.”

“You would think that… Saccharine sweet, as always, herbivore.”

“Hey now,” you chastised with a smile. “You know that I can be sour.”

The two of you fell into a companionable silence once more, looking up at the first-years. Until Leona spoke, yet again.

“You’re real good at pretending things’re fine. It’s pretty impressive. Frustrating that nobody else seems to see through it, though.”

You stood a little straighter at that.

“I don’t think I’m good at it… It’s more like everyone else is self-absorbed around here. Or a bit…” You struggled to find a delicate way to phrase it, but then realised that you were talking to Leona, and that it didn’t matter. “Dumb. They either don’t notice, or don’t care.”

Leona let out a short laugh, lips curving upward. “Hm. You’re right about that. Idiots, the lot of them.”

“It’s… not been easy, but having you and Ruggie makes it easier. I have my friends, too. They can be a pain, but they look out for me in their own ways. It could be a lot worse, y’know?”

“Guess the glass is always half full with you.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not. Sometimes I have doubts. I get really worried that I’m not doing things well enough, or that I’ll end up all alone in the end. Sometimes I think that people only like me because I’m a novelty, or because they feel sorry for me… But then I remember who I’m with, and that they aren’t like that.”

Leona turned to you, jaw tight again. You reached up and tapped it.

“Unclench that. I’m doing alright just now. No need to break your teeth.”

He rolled his eyes, but did as you said. “It’s… not easy to hear you talk like that.”

“Then let’s not talk about it,” you suggested.

“It’s worse to see you keeping it bottled up.” Leona shook his head. “Pretending things aren’t the way they are is pointless.”

“Dwelling on it isn’t any good either.”

Leona’s tail flicked at that.

After a moment of careful consideration, he said, “For as long as I live, you’ll never be alone here. So… There’s no need to worry about things like that.”

The importance of such a declaration was not lost on you. When you snapped your head to look at him, surprise coursing through you like a shot of adrenaline, you realised that Leona Kingscholar was blushing.

The sincerity of his words and the bashfulness of his very being hit you, turning you into a similarly red mess. “T-That’s…”

“It’s not up for negotiation.”

“I wasn’t going to negotiate. It’s just… Really nice of you.”

His face twitched, and he looked away from you.

“Guess you probably don’t think I’m a good guy. After everything, I get it… ‘Cause it’s true, no matter how you look at it. I’ll never be good, not the way that my brother is. I’ll never be a good prince and I’ll probably never be a good partner… I’ll either play dirty, or I won’t play at all. There’s a lot better than me out there… But until you find them, I’ll watch out for you.”

All you could do was blink, breathe, and process Leona’s words.

“You think you’re really smart, don’t you, Leona Kingscholar?” Your fingers felt numb all of a sudden. “You’re not immune to being dumb.”

He looked down at you with those bright green eyes of his, pushing you to continue. Daring you to continue.

“You’ve never gone against my will, or tried to push me to do anything. You’ve been kind to me, and you’ve looked out for me, and you’ve offered to keep looking out for me.” You took a steadying breath. “When you did the wrong things, it was to look out for your dorm members. I know that now. You’re not perfect, but you’re not a bad person. Not to me.”

“What if you’re wrong?” he asked, voice lacking in punch, as though he had been running. “What will you do then?”

“If I woke up someday and thought to myself, ‘Leona’s kind of a bad person’... I guess I’d try to steer you in a better direction. But ‘badness’ is relative. I believe that you can do a bad thing and not be a bad person.”

His eyes narrowed in challenge. “And if I did a bad thing?”

“Everybody does. To me, intention matters. And so does self-awareness. More than regret, which might seem odd.”

“That does seem odd.” Then, seeing straight through you, he asked, “Have you always felt that way?”

You suddenly felt very aware of your tongue, and the dryness growing within you.

“No.” The admission felt weighted. “I used to think that if someone hurt somebody else, it made them a bad person. That being ‘good’ was just common sense. But since coming here, I’ve realised that it’s a lot more complicated than that.”

“Was it seeing me overblot that made you feel like that?” Leona asked, arms folding across his chest.

“I guess that was part of it. But when I saw Riddle finally crack… It made me think about things.” As the darkness began to close over the field, the air around you grew colder. It would be winter soon.

“At first, when I saw how controlling he was, and how miserable he was making people, I thought that he was an awful person. I thought that he deserved to be punished in some sort of way. Then he overblotted and I realised that things weren’t so straight forward. I could feel his pain in the air, like it was my own. The emotions that he had been repressing, the wants that he couldn’t fulfil… It made me sick to my stomach. Then the same happened to you. I could taste the hopelessness, the way you wanted to close your eyes and keep them that way. And I realised that people do things for all sorts of reasons, and that bad circumstances don’t make someone evil.”

“So you pitied me and you pitied the pipsqueak?”

You mustered up a half-hearted glare at that.

“That’s what you got from that?” Typical. “If acknowledging the complexity of your circumstances and caring about you is pitying you, then I guess I did. If that’s a stab to your pride, you just have to deal with it. I care about you, Leona, and that’s not changing any time soon.”

The first-years began their descent, congregating at the center of the field.

“You’re real weird for a herbivore,” Leona said. “I guess that’s why I like you so much. I’ve never met anybody like you before.”

What should have been an offhand comment made your heart stutter. Whether it was caused by the direct, entirely earnest confirmation that Leona Kingscholar liked you, or the hint as to why he did, you were unsure.

While that light, fluttery feeling made you want to curl into yourself, it also made you want to push further.

“Then… Would it be weird to say that I could happily spend the rest of my life with you and Ruggie?” you asked.

“Extremely weird. You’ve only known us for a couple of months.” He seemed to toy with his next words before letting them loose. “But… I like the sound of that.”

The first-years made their way to the changing rooms. Leona glanced around the coliseum, and then turned to you with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“C’mere. Follow me.”

You did so without a protest. Leona led you to a small, hidden room filled with sports equipment. He disappeared into it.

“Should I be scared..?” you asked into the room, the question echoing.

“Whatever you’re thinking, get your mind out of the gutter,” Leona called back.

You smiled to yourself. “I said nothing gutter-worthy.”

Leona emerged holding a broom.

Your smile morphed to a frown. “My janitorial days are over.”

He sighed. “I’m not asking you to clean up. I’m asking you out on a joyride.”

You almost asked if it was safe, before realising that there was no safer person to ride with. Ruggie would probably drop you for the fun of it. Leona, however, had a reputation as a skilled flyer to uphold.

“Alright. It’s… getting a bit cold, though.”

“So demanding… Hold this, would ya?”

Leona shoved the broom towards you and went back into the room. This time he exited it with a bundle of black and purple fabric in his arms. He took the broom from you and tossed the bundle toward you. When you unfolded it, you realised that it was a jacket… A very spacious jacket.

“Thanks,” you half-shivered, pulling it on.

It felt comically large, mostly thanks to the billowing sleeves. You couldn’t imagine trying to play sports in the thing, but it made you warm despite the openness of the garment.

“Does it have some sort of magic in it?”

“Yeah, ancient magic. It’s called bein’ comfy,” Leona deadpanned. He flipped the broom in his hand and positioned it, ready for take-off. “C’mon, get on the back of the broom and try not to complain much. Make sure you hold on, too. If you fall it’s your own fault.”

“And they say romance is dead…” you mumbled to yourself as you met his demands.

When you had wrapped your arms around Leona’s torso, using it as an anchor, the broom took off. It was nothing like when Grim lifted a broom into the air; it was smooth and effortless, as though you were moving through a dream. Leona guided the broom into the dusky sky, lifting you to the highest point of the coliseum.

When you glanced down at the ground your arms tightened, the lack of support making your muscles turn rigid.

“Haven’t you ever heard of not looking down?” Leona quipped without looking back. “You’re so tense I can feel it.”

You pressed closer to the broad expanse of his back, feeling the wind stinging against your exposed face.

“Aren’t you cold?” you had to yell to Leona.

“No. I’m using a spell to regulate my body temperature.”

If he could do that, then what was the point in the coat..? Actually, I’m not going to ask. The answer’s obvious.

Leona flew forward, away from the coliseum and across the main campus. Everything looked tiny from the sky, like little figurines. As cliche as it sounded, it really did make your problems seem small… But perhaps that was due to the company more than anything else.

He cared about you; of that much you were certain.

You relaxed into him through the journey, trusting him to set the pace and guide the broom.

“Hey, Leona?” you said, moving closer to his ears so that he could hear you.

“Hm?”

Your heart thundered. There was no way that he couldn’t feel it.

“Would it be weird if I told you that I love you?”

The broom shuddered for the first time since take-off.

Leona had it under control before you could register the disruption.

“Yeah,” he said, the sound rumbling through you. “It is weird. Do I need to point out again that we met a couple of months ago?”

“I know. But it doesn’t change how I feel. You don’t have to feel that way too. I… just wanted you to know. Sorry if that’s… awkward.”

“It’s fine,” Leona responded, quick as an arrow. “I don’t think I’ve used the word ‘love’ since I was a kid. So don’t go expectin’ any grandiose declarations. I’m no poet.”

“I don’t need anything fancy. All I need is for you to be there… And you’re very good at doing that.”

The two of you approached the edge of the school; Leona turned, retracing his steps… or, perhaps, retracing his glides.

“What about Ruggie?” he asked.

“It’s… strange, but I think I love him too. The way I feel about the two of you… That’s never happened before.”

“That’s… good.” Leona’s words were choked out, strung with tension. “You aren’t making this easy for me, are you?”

A sense of unfettered pride flared within you; for the first time in your little threeway game, Leona was utterly rattled by you. If only you could see the look on his face…

“Don’t tell Ruggie that I said that. I want to tell him myself. When the time’s right… Whenever that is.”

Leona chuckled. “Make sure you have chapstick when you do. He won’t let go of you after pulling something like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. ‘Give him a scrap and he’ll scarf down the whole meal,’ right?”

“Heh… Looks like you’re finally learning.”

When you touched down back at the coliseum, you still felt as though you were floating. You dismounted, and got to look the lion in the eyes.

Leona’s expression was hard to read. It was… new. You hadn’t seen him make a face like it before.

The quiet was cracking under the weight of everything you both wanted to say.

“Thanks for the ride,” you tried, shrugging the coat off.

“Anytime,” Leona responded. He moved to take a step forward, and then changed his mind.

“Leona… You don’t have to be afraid with me,” you coaxed. “If you want something, tell me.”

“I’m not scared. Just…” He shook his head, making a noise that sounded like a growl. “Stand still, will you?”

You did so, watching him as he kept swithering.

A determination fell over him, and he took that step toward you. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to yours. It hadn’t been what you were expecting, and you weren’t entirely sure what to make of it, but it seemed important to Leona, so you pressed your forehead into his.

He pulled back, face flushed once again, and took the coat from your arms.

“Goodnight,” he said, firmly.

You smiled at that. “Goodnight, Leona. See you soon.”

Feeling what could only be described as victorious, you left the coliseum with a spring in your step.

(An extra long chapter after missing a week <3 How are we feeling after that one?)

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #fanfiction #twst #leona x reader x ruggie #ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader #romance

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