#but hey I did figure it out eventually right lol

[vaguely-concerned]

returnal did not cure my depression but it did give me a strangely healing new perspective that makes it all a bit easier to bear. that perspective being 'I may be having a rough time right now, but at least I'm not inside the head of returnal protagonist selene vassos'

[heegyukeluv]

... and a bit more (sjy)

EXTRA FOR "A HUNDRED SUNSETS" (read it here)

pairing: jake x afab!reader

synopsis: It's been years since you and Jake started dating, now dealing with adult life, which became an easy thing as you both shared it together, full of love and support. Yet, years in a relationship can make you wonder if your loved one still sees you with the same intensity. So you decided to reassure Jake that no matter how many years you stay with him, your love and desire will remain as passionate as ever.

my's note: i’m so obsessed with these characters AND SO ARE YALL WTFFF!! I’M THRILLED WITH ALL THE SUPPORT I’VE RECEIVED FOR THIS WORK i did NOT expect this to get this many likes and reblogs and comments and stuff 😭😭😭😭 sooooo here’s a lil gift as a THANK YOU!!! thank y’all for every word of appreciation towards my writing and my work. i really meant it!!! hope you enjoy this one as much as “a hundred sunsets” 💖

warnings: established relationship, jake is a bit insecure in this one, teacher jake (as a job! he’s not y/n’s teacher), pet names, reader blushing/turning red! smut w plot! (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) - oral sex (f. receiving), slight choking (j does to y/n CONSENSUAL. SHE ASKED. and please for god’s sake don’t do it if you don’t know how to do it properly), reader kinda suffocates jake (but he likes that lol), j. cums inside, unprotected sex (don’t do it !!), car sex (oral only!! f. receiving). lmk if i missed something!!

wc: 7.5k

NOT PROOFREAD. 

taglist 💖: @yvnempire

Jake’s head was aching with the amount of highschoolers he was dealing with everyday.

Choosing that career path was a childhood dream come true; to be able to teach other people about what he loves the most – after you, of course – brought so much joy to his life, he was constantly on cloud nine. Having you by his side to celebrate every little achievement with him played a big part in that as well.

However, as with every other job, there were some days he wished to erase from his memory in order to forget not only how stressful it was, but how annoying some teenagers can be. 

Jake knew he didn’t had to worry about your feelings for him in any way.

You showered him with love and affection in every single action of yours and that was pretty much enough. You would pack him lunch with cute little love notes, you would stay with him until late while he read his articles and prepared his classes, you would pick him up every now and then to get him to a date – even after years, you both still loved watching the sunset together, whispering love promises until nightfall, only to continuing saying them under the moonlight. 

Your big smile and shining eyes greeting him whenever he got home acted like words unspoken, but just in case you made sure to say them constantly.

But sometimes there are things that some teenagers say that can really hurt your ego and hit you directly in your insecurities if you let them in. And the words he heard that day echoed through his mind the whole afternoon. 

You were working on some work papers in the living room when you heard the front door unlocking. Quickly you stood up to greet Jake with a hug.

You never understood how you always managed to miss Jake even now, after you both started to live together, but at some point you just gave up trying to figure it out, accepting your fate of never getting enough of your amazing boyfriend. 

“Oh, hey there, professor,” you welcomed him with a sweet smile, already cupping his face with your hands and placing a tender kiss on your favorite lips, the same plump, red and soft ones you always loved to feel on yours.

“Hey, babe.”

You tilted your head, confused. Although Jake reciprocated your kiss, the mood wasn’t right. 

You never expected Jake to be bright and cheerful all the time, never, especially when coming home from such stressful work. Alongside that, his intense studying sessions in order to get better at his job and eventually become a university teacher helped him to get overwhelmed from time to time, so you respected the moments he vented out about his burdens, listening with all your heart and asking him if he wanted some advice or just to be heart.

Most times he just asked for a warm hug and a kiss, and of course, you under no circumstances would deny such a heartwarming request.

You knew it was the minimum, but you appreciated how Jake never discounted his stress on you. Actually he would be always saying you were his stress reliever, so you really weirded out with his actions today. 

Not only was his demeanor quite off, kindly pulling you away without deepening the kiss to leave his bag and coat beside the door, but his face expressed something you read as concern and sadness.

You watched Jake walking quietly to your room without explaining a thing, so you followed him right away, heart hurting in worry. 

“What’s with the frown, my love?” You asked softly when you both arrived at the room almost at the same time, you behind Jake, who was now starting to get undressed. 

He said nothing as he took off his glasses to put on the nightstand and unbelted his dark blue trousers, sitting on the bed to unbutton the first buttons of his white dress shirt, not fully finishing any of his actions like he was in some internal dilemma preventing him from working properly.

Your concerned gaze followed his every move until you finally heard his voice. “Do you love me?”

Now was your time to frown as you approached him. “What’s this question, Jakey? Of course I love you,” you sat beside him and your hand almost instantly grabbed his to gently squeeze it, playing with his fingers.

He was glancing at a random spot on the floor while you tried to read his face. 

“No, but like, do you still think I’m attractive? Do you really feel desire for me or do you fake it?”

You could see he was a bit embarrassed for asking that so you, again, reassured him with your words and actions. “I’m really confused right now, my love. Of course I do feel desire for you, you’re the hottest man I’ve ever met. And yeah, you are attractive as fuck, Jakey,” you lifted his chin with your fingers to face you. “What’s with all that? Tell me what happened, mhm?”

Jake locked his eyes on you for a second, already feeling a bit better meeting his favorite two orbs looking at him with so much love, warmth and reassurance. However, although he appreciated every genuine feeling from you, he wasn’t asking you for any of that at the moment.

He needed to know if you still saw him as an attractive guy,  so he averted his gaze as he started to spill what was on his mind all day. 

“Some random kid told me that you’d easily leave me for a hot guy if I don’t treat you right, and I don’t normally care about what some of them say because y’know, teenagers and their full of nonsense minds, but–” He sighed, pain starting to drip all through his words. “I– I know that you love me, and I love you too. But what if– What if I don’t pleasure you enough?” His eyes searched for yours again, eyes a bit red like he was about to cry. “What if you realize you can find some other person that can fulfill your fantasies and desires in a way I can’t?”

Jake let everything out all at once, every corrosive thinking that dwelled him throughout the day, knowing he was in a safe space, that you were his safe place. You got a bit surprised with the sudden rant, but listened with care and attention to know what to do whenever he stopped, but your head was already spinning with all the information he was giving you. 

How could he think that? Jake was an incredible boyfriend, in a way that you worried to give him love enough to keep him close, because the thought of Jake leaving you frightened you too much.

You always felt like no action or words of yours could show him how much you loved and needed him around. To imagine he thinks a similar thing made your heart pound in pain.

“You’re hot and young and beautiful and so easy to love. Everytime I ask myself how I managed to bag a goddess like you. I can’t bear the idea of losing you, Y/N–”

You had to shut him up with a kiss, and then another, and another, until you felt him relaxing under your touch. You moved your body to sit on his lap, his hands looking for comfort on your hips right away. “You will never lose me, Jake,” you whispered, his warm breath brushing against your skin as you admired each feature of his pretty face. “I love you. I want you. Only you,” you pecked his lips again before continuing to speak with a small smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re everything I've ever wanted, you’re everything I need, my love,” and one more sweet kiss. “Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

And then you finally kissed him properly, sighing when you felt his tongue searching for yours, touching you so intimately, so passionately, so full of love. Your hips were moving in little circles on his lap, already feeling yourself getting wet and his dick getting hard. 

You thought about sharing your own insecurities keeping the same theme, but that was Jake’s moment of being loved, and you were willing to let him know in every breath, touch, kiss, word of yours how much you cherished him, how much you adored his presence, how much you treasured every single moment with him, and of course, how aroused Jake could make you feel just by being close.

You never spoke directly to him about that, but Jake was magnetic. Your eyes always searched for him, observing how his movements seemed meticulously calculated to leave you wanting more, all the time making you lose your mind doing the simplest things.

Seeing him walking around the house wearing nothing but loose gray sweatpants that showed the hem of his boxers with his study glasses and messy hair always made you squeeze your thighs together and swallow hard on your seat.

Same thing whenever he got ready for work in the morning, getting all dressed up in his dress shirt with coats/blazers or just a casual long-sleeve shirt, never forgetting his black specs – everytime you had to hold yourself from tossing him back in the bed to ride his face with that fucking glasses. 

Or when he was focused on his studies, deep in thought with furrowed brows and lips pursed a bit, from time to time biting his tongue, making you worder how hard he could fuck you while looking at you like that.

And not to mention whenever you were in the car with Jake being the driver, his hands gripping on the wheel and his veiny arms popping out looking so unnecessary hot, to the point you almost had to ask him to pull over to fuck you deep with his slender pretty fingers.

You were so sure that your craving eyes shamelessly undressing him was noticeable, but now you got to know that maybe you should start to show off how he affected you more often in order to make Jake understand that his breathing near your ears alone could make you go wild.

You bit his bottom lip and pulled away while grabbing one of his hands from your back to lead it down to the hem of your shorts. “Feel that, Jakey?” You asked after forcing his hands to touch your clothed cunt, smirking. “Can you feel how wet I am just by kissing you, pretty boy?” Jake nodded dumbly while open-mouthed moaning on your lips just by feeling your already dampened panties, hooded eyes looking at you with nothing but passion and lust, his own dick growing hard in his pants. “That’s how much you affect me, my love.”

The whole atmosphere had switched and none of you complained, because the main reason for Jake's down feeling was the idea of losing you due him being unable to satisfy you, which you decided right away to tell and show him he was doing way more than you expected, and always so right.

Jake always surpassed your expectations. You were so fucking lucky.

“Let me love you, okay?” You quickly locked your lips one more time, addicted to his taste, before pushing him down to lay on his back on the sheets, hands leaving your warm, clothed pussy, to hold you still on top of him. “Let me show you how good you make me feel and how much I want you,” and your mouth searched for him again as if it never felt enough. 

Every touch of your sensitive area on his bulge was making both of you groan between the messy kiss you were sharing, the taste of his tongue on yours working as a drug, making you wonder if you could stay like that forever.

Unwilling you parted away again, getting out of the bed to start to undress yourself as a little show for Jake. That night fate designed you to choose to wear his favorite black set of lingerie, so he was watching you with hungry eyes, devouring each curve of your body with his eyes, like you were his favorite meal – and just to add, he would watch you the same way even if you were wearing torn clothes. Jake was so in love and obsessed with you, anything about you made him feel insane.

You gave him a smirk before removing your panties and climbing on him again, loving the way his eyes were glazed on your chest, the bra of the lingerie set making it squished together and too pretty for him to handle. He bit his own lip as if he was holding himself, breath growing heavy, the dim light of your shared bedroom making it look even hotter, with his messy hair, glistening, red, swollen lips and eyes full of adoration and desire for you. Only for you. 

“I need to eat you out,” he uttered in a hurry, almost sounding drunk when his hands touched your bare hips, caressing your warm skin and making you shiver. You smiled cheekily.

“Of course you do, pretty boy,” you planted a tender kiss on his nose, both of his cheeks, his chin and on his forehead, “That’s why I’ll be sitting on your pretty face right now,” and then a final kiss on his lips as you watched his eyes sparkle in joy and enthusiasm in anticipation, you couldn't hold a little laugh. 

Jake had a not so little oral fixation, always finding a way of placing his lips on you, nibbing or sucking any part of your skin he was able to, your pussy being his favorite. And who were you to deny such things? You always let him use your body for his own satisfaction, because you knew how hard he could get just by the thought alone of eating you out, and there were many times he came untouched while doing it. 

It was a win-win situation, with you hitting your best orgasms every single time, making your pretty noises just for him, dripping all over his tongue.

Jake’s heart fluttered with the view of you getting on your knees, hovering yourself while touching your dampened folds with your own fingers just to place your cunt directly on his mouth. He was in heaven, eyes instantly closing as he exhaled your scent, getting drunker and drunker on you.

You sat slowly on him, a little afraid of suffocating your cute boyfriend who now had his arms hugging your legs, pushing you down without a care in the world, like suffocating himself on you was everything he ever wanted. 

Jake always began with a big, long lick, collecting all you arousal just to feel your taste and mix it with his own saliva, drawing out a moan from you, before starting to suck you with passion, almost like he was slowly making out with your pussy, the tip of his nose constantly rubbing your sensitive clit as he went faster, the ragged breath tickling your skin while he was focused on you. 

Your hand searched for support on the headboard, the other unconsciously grabbing Jake’s hair just like you knew he loved, giving it a little pull once and while to show him how much pleasure he was giving you. 

“You always make me feel so, so good, Jakey,” you said with a gasp, your body reacting out of lust, hips rolling back and forth trying to match Jake’s rhythm. 

The whole visual underneath you showed a forbidden scene that only helped your arousal to increase; Jake’s sweaty hair was getting stuck on his forehead, eyes closed and arms holding you closer with his veiny hands squeezing your thighs, pushing you even more into his face. “And you look so fucking hot right now, Jaeyun. Shit.”

You threw your head back and rolled your eyes when he started to intercalate his movements to tongue-fucking you, lewd wet sounds now filling up the room. “Your mouth does wonders on me, you know that?” Your breath was heavy, your whole body on fire, the only thing coming across in your mind right now was to cum all over his face. 

You wanted to make sure Jake understood how fantastic of a job he was doing, like ever, and how much you loved the way he guided you through your pleasure, giving you everything you needed. “You always eat me so good, my pretty boy–” You interrupted yourself with a loud whimper when he focused on your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue on it. “I’m close, Jaeyun– fuck. I’m really close,” you could feel your orgasm building up on your core, Jake also noticed how your body was reacting by you avidly riding on his face, legs tensioning a bit, you already caring less about suffocating him or whatever – he always told you to go hard on him, and loved every time you did.

Jake was so in heaven.

He himself started to moan on your cunt, intensifying his attention on your clit, his mumbles vibrating in your sensitive area.

“You’re my precious boy, isn’t that right?” You said with your voice weak and heard a little muffed ‘mhm’ as a response. “So make me cum, yeah, Jakey?” 

To get you off was always Jake’s own pleasure, especially when he was using his mouth to do so. God, Jake loved to hear your pretty sounds, how you would moan his name so pleasing, your body trembling by pure lust, you losing yourself when you were close to your climax, overwhelmed by all his stimulus. 

So Jake focused even more to make you to cum. At this point you were a whimpering mess, rushing over to achieve your orgasm so desperately that small tears started to form in the corner of your eyes and your hands tightened on Jake’s hair when you finally did, spilling your juices all over his mouth.

Jake maintained his tongue working on you, passionately collecting all of you, groaning with delight as he felt your taste melting on his tongue.

You tried to catch your breath for a bit before removing yourself from Jake’s face, hissing when you felt your thighs burning due your own work and the position you stood for so long. You flopped on the bed besides Jake to recover yourself, listening to him gasping for air as well, but with a satisfied grin adorning his glistened, attractive lips.

“You are insane,” you whispered, smiling before propping yourself on your elbow to give him a sweet kiss, opposite to all the sexual atmosphere that drifted around the room minutes ago, your hands searching for comfort on his neck, deepening the touch.

“Yes, for you,” Jake replied between the kiss, shifting a bit to be on his side so he could give you proper access to his mouth, and also to rub his fingers on the bare skin of your waist, pulling you closer. When he did that, you felt his hard bulge brushing against you and startled, parting away from him to give a questioning expression.

“Jaeyun,” you touched his still clothed and neglected cock.

“Ah–” 

“Why didn’t you stop to at least remove your clothes?” You asked genuinely worried, already moving yourself to do what you just said. “This must be hurting so bad, my love,” you watched how his dick jumped out of his boxers when you took it off.

“It is…” He whispered, face contorted in pleasure and relief when your warm, soft hands started to pump his shaft. “But you’re always my priority, sugar,” he said with a smirk, looking down to watch you for a second.

You loved how Jake managed to make you smile and your heart flutter in moments like those, constantly ensuring that you felt loved before anything else.

You collected the precum leaking out of his tip with your fingers, to ease your movements as you accelerated a bit. Due to his sensitivity, he almost instantly opened his mouth with a loud moan and started to buck his hips into your touch, wanting more of it while whispering “P–Please...”

You kept giving the attention he needed, cupping his tip with your hand to move it in circles. Jake whimpered, voice cracking a little ‘fuck’. He was melting under your touch, so sensitive, his body slightly squirming beneath you, needing more of you.

Although you were enjoying the view and how reactive he was just by your hand alone, you wanted more of him, so you voiced it out in a serious tone “I really need you to fuck me,” as you moved away, leaving him missing your warmth around his dick so you could lay on your back on the bed.

Jake immediately understood the assignment, positioning himself over you, his necklace dangling near your face. You smirked as you pulled him closer so your mouth could meet his, but he broke the contact before you could do so.

“Let me just get rid of this shirt bef–”

“No!” You rushed to say, grabbing his arms to interrupt his attempt of removing his dress shirt, “Don’t, please,” you said quietly, feeling your cheeks burning by the shyness that hit on you, averting his curious gaze.

“Hm?” Jake lifted an eyebrow, puppy eyes trying to understand why you were reticent all of a sudden.

He decided to not undress himself fully as you asked to do so without questioning it much, leaning to kiss your neck, his soft lips already knowing every sweet spot of yours. His goal was to make you relaxed, reassuring you that whatever you said he would respect and listen with all the love he had for you.

“I have this fantasy…” You started to speak after a while, enjoying his light, still hot touches, now you being the one melting for him. 

“Yeah?” He whispered, keeping sucking, biting and kissing your neck, jawline and collarbone area, shivers spreading all over your body. He was thrilled with the idea of you sharing more from that side of yours, knowing damn well how hard to say it out loud was for you. Jake would always give you all the time in the world, though. 

You took advantage of his face being buried on your neck to keep talking with a slight lack of confidence. You were afraid of how Jake would react. “I–I always wanted you to– To fuck me wearing a dress shirt,” you stuttered a bit, but finally voiced out what have been on the back of your mind for a while, gulping nervously while your hands tried to find comfort on his hair, playing with it as a habit of tension.

You heard a little chuckle from Jake, which made you worry that he might find you a bit pathetic. 

But it was Jake, after all. The one that managed to surprise – and most important, to respect – you every single time. “You’re so cute,” wasn’t what you expected to hear. Jake pulled away, gently holding your chin for you to face him. “Does my gorgeous girlfriend get turned on by me wearing a dress shirt?” The sultry tone and the charming grin decorating his lips made you blushing even harder, not to mention the fluttering excitement in your stomach. “Did I get it right, sugar?”

You saw Jake shirtless countless times, yet the view right now of his chest showing just enough because the first buttons being undone alongside his dangling silver necklace was driving you insane, breath growing heavy as you licked your lips, not saying anything.

Every reaction of you being catched by Jake’s sharp gaze. “I need your words, my love,” he whispered, teasingly brushing his lips on yours.

“Yes, Jakey,” you whispered back, trying to push your embarrassment away. “You look so hot on it.”

“There you go,” he smiled proudly at you, but also confident by your compliment.

He finally kissed you properly, sucking your bottom lip and then immediately deepening the touch by adding his tongue, messily kissing you just how you wanted. 

One of his hands slowly found its way down your body, fingers brushing your folds before inserting two digits without a warning; due to your wetness he had no trouble in doing so. Your moan got lost into his mouth, your own fingers messing his hair even more, nails scratching his nape and scalp. 

Jake’s lips traveled down to your neck while his hand continued its job on your entrance, in and out in a slow, painful pace. He kept going down with his kisses, stopping on your still clothed boobs.

“Can I remove these?” He asked, pointing to your bra and you nodded, breathing heavy as you helped him to undress you fully, missing his fingers inside you.

Jake would constantly ask permission before removing any piece of your clothes, and in particular, your bra. You once told him how much more comfortable you felt wearing a bra during sex, especially if you were riding him. At the same time, you were totally aware of his love for your whole body, so alongside that, you gave him the consentment to remove the piece whenever he felt like it. And every time he questioned if he could.

Jake straightened his back for a second just to appreciate your beauty.

He questioned how he got so lucky to have you like that, all naked just for him to touch, gorgeous body just for him to glorify, your face, in a perfect blend of love and lust, just for him to see. Everything. Just for him. How?

“Only you can have me like this, Jakey,” you spoke softly with an equally gentle smile, like you were reading his mind tripping over insecurities again – although you felt a bit shy under his intense gaze. “You’re the only one I love.”

He sighed. A lovesick type of sigh, the one he let out whenever he realized – once more – how much in love he was with you, the one that always came with a cute smile, the one with a devoted gaze.

Then he leaned down again, giving you a quick kiss before continuing his work, focusing his mouth now on your tits, gently swirling his tongue on your hardened nipples while sucking on it. You gasped, hands rushing to tangle your fingers on his silky hair. He gave the proper attention to both of your boobs, making you even more wet, before moving down to kiss the interior of your thighs. 

“Please, Jaeyun– I wanna feel you inside of me, please.” You pleaded, already feeling impatient.

You heard him let out a soft laugh before trailing his lips all over your body, up to your lips, whispering with a sweet, yet alluring tone. “Your wish is my command, princess,” and he aligned his cock on your entrance, slowly entering you. He gave you little kisses all over your face, capturing all your expressions of pleasure and then said “I love you.”

Your lips curved with the tender, sudden confession, moaning when you felt him finally moving, your hooded eyes looking for Jake’s to whisper “I love you too, my love..”

And you also loved how Jake filled you up so good, so deep inside you, thrusting his hips in the pace he already knew both of you enjoyed.

Normally Jake would be willing to let you take control all over him, especially if you were using him to reach your own high – riding his face or his cock, coming all over his body, making a total mess. He loved that. But from time to time you would silently ask for him to take over, laying down on the bed and letting him be the one in charge of using your body. And he had to admit that he also loved that. 

To watch your eyes rolling whenever he hit your g-spot, the little frown of delight mixed with your mouth open, chanting his name in between moans in such an endearing, alluring way without even realizing it, fully surrendered. He could cum just by watching it.

The room quickly was filled with groans and moans from you two, Jake intertwined your fingers together and lifted both your hands above your head, holding himself steady as he kept thrusting harder and faster into you, wet sounds mixing with your names being whispered by each other’s mouth, lost in pure ecstasy. 

“Choke me,” you whined at some point, wanting more and more of that addicting feeling. “P-Please, choke me, Jakey,” you managed to move one of your hands still interlocked with his, positioning it on your neck, letting it go for him to do what you asked for, his movements slowing down a bit as he was trying to fully understand your request. 

Jake’s eyes gleamed with a bit of shock and excitement. Wasn’t your first time asking him to choke you, but everytime he got somewhat surprised. He placed his hands around your neck, gently squeezing the spot he learned from you that is the right one. Jake was always very cautious with the act, observing your reactions and never taking more than a few seconds, doing just enough for you to feel the pleasure you wanted to. And you so did. 

Your mouth fell open with a loud, choked moan when your air got stuck in your throat. The view of him with his white dress shirt holding you like that made your mind go dizzy for a brief moment. You gasped for air as soon as Jake released the tightness on your neck, feeling him kissing you right after but you couldn’t kiss him back, your orgasm near the edge already making you too messy and out of your mind, so he went down to bite and kiss your neck.

Jake’s hot breath on your skin, he sounding so gorgeous, lascivious groaning your name, together with all the overwhelmness your body was going through and his dick deep into your pussy the way you loved, was enough for your second orgasm to hit.

Without a proper warning you screamed Jake’s name while your walls clenched around his cock, he himself moaning with your tight cunt making it difficult to move. Your hand squeezed his when you hit your climax, and it took just a few more pumps until you felt Jake’s warm liquid filling you up along a groan. You hissed.

Jake fell on your body, panting hard and burying his face on your neck. You chuckled when your mind got back to yourself, remembering what all of that was about. “Does this answer your questions?” You asked, out of breath. 

“What?” Jake whispered, lips tickling your skin when he did so.

“That I’m not leaving you anytime soon.”

Jake hummed against your skin, now understanding what you meant. You felt him smiling right after. 

“I think I need a few more reminders, just in case.”

So on a random morning, while staying loyal to your job of making Jake fully aware of your deep need for him and how profoundly he affected you, you watched him getting ready for work with you still on the bed. 

You two always woke up almost together, while Jake took a shower and brushed his teeth, you made breakfast and prepared his lunchbox together with a cute note – it wasn’t an everyday routine since some days Jake had lunch with you at home or on a little date.

After eating, you would go watch and help him with his clothes whenever he needed it. You loved to watch him like he was your favorite show, especially because your day started a bit later than that so that was kind of the quality time you two shared every morning. 

But today the show was a bit… different.

Jake looked like a lost puppy, shirtless in front of his wardrobe trying to figure out something to wear, barely noticing you hungrily eyeing him up and down not caring much about his whole dilemma. 

He turned to you to ask. “This one or this one? What do you prefer?” 

You quickly eyed the options and pointed to the red and white striped long sleeve – one of your favorites, so it was your honest opinion, actually.

However you had other ideas running through your mind, so you went closer to him, hugging his warm body from behind before he wore the shirt. “But you look better without any of them, y’know that?” You glanced at him from the mirror in front of you both, your hands caressing his toned chest faking an innocence. Jake’s eyes caught yours showing your clearly second intentions, shifting to a darkened atmosphere right away. 

“You think so? Should I go shirtless then?” He asked playfully with a smirk. You giggled mischievously, turning him over so you two could face each other, your hands on his waist while he cupped your face.

“You’d definitely turn some heads,” you teased, leaning in closer, voice turning into a low whisper. “But I’d rather keep the view all to myself,” and with that your lips met his to share a passionate kiss, your small giggles and smiles getting lost in between.

Jake’s body pushed you to start walking backwards while his hands moved your head to the side to deepen the touch. You stumbled your legs on the bed, falling over it without breaking the contact, Jake hovering you as you felt his bulge hardening against your thigh. 

He broke the kiss to pick his phone from the nightstand, tilting his head. “We have about fifteen minutes,” and glanced back at you with a smirk, diving into you once again.

“More than enough,” you murmured, shivering with the feeling of the tip of his nose and lips brushing against your neck, giving little kisses on there, your panties dampening just by that. 

You sighed, letting out a quietly whimper as Jake’s lips gently sucked a sensitive part of your skin. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer for you both to kiss. You tried to undress him quickly, removing his sweatpants and boxers in one go with his help after he removed your shorts and panties, leaving you with only your oversized shirt.

You felt his hands traveling down your body until his fingers touched your folds just to collect your arousal to make you nice and ready for him. Jake jerked himself off for a bit, spreading his precum all over his shaft to finally replace his fingers.

He moaned in your ear when he finally felt your tightness around his cock, the action alone making you quiver. You loved to hear Jake’s pretty noises, especially this close. But you wanted more – and time was running out. 

“Faster,” you whispered while softly dragging your fingernails all over his back, annoyed by his slow pace not increasing gradually as you expected and wanted. 

However, Jake was in the mood of teasing you for a bit – as if you both had plenty of time – by keeping his movements the same, slow and steady, taking his sweet time to watch your frustrated frown. “Jaeyun…” He giggled against your cheek, kissing you afterwards and then he started to go faster, just how you ordered. 

Although he was a teaser sometimes, Jake's favorite thing to do was to comply with your wishes; anything you asked him to do he would be willingly doing it. And during intimate moments, he would take his sweet time to observe and understand every reaction of your body whenever he was touching you, at this point of the relationship already knowing how to read you and how to make you feel even better. 

So when you started to moan his name in between whimpers, one of his hands slid under your shirt to give your boobs a gentle massage, rubbing your nipples, making you squirm underneath him. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jake said tenderly, staring at your face contorted in lust. So gorgeous and just for him. 

His fingers let go of your boobs to rush down to rub your clit when you whispered “I’m close, please, don’t– Don’t stop,” with a ragged breath, pulling him closer in a messy, hot kiss. The well-known wave swept through your whole body as your warm liquid coated Jake’s dick. “Fuck,” you rolled your eyes, enjoying your high before coming back to reality to watch Jake focused on now achieving his own climax. “You always fuck me so good, pretty boy,” you whispered while panting and caressing his sweaty hair, a bit overstimulated by his thrusts into you. He groaned and you felt his dick throbbing inside you. “Always fill me up so good, isn’t that right?” 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, lips parted while his whole body trembled on top of you, his release inside of you making you moan due your sensitiveness. 

“I guess we– We went too intense for a quickie, sweetheart,” he said in between heavy breaths. You laughed, kissing the top of his head. 

“You’ll need another shower.”

You persisted in carrying on your plan whenever possible, loving Jake in all the ways you could, showing him how much of an amazing, attractive, irresistible and captivating man he truly was. 

Jake was thrilled with all the affection you were showing, not that you never did it before, but he noticed you being more obvious and confident about sexual talks; whenever you got turned on by him doing minimal things, you demonstrated through your words and actions. He knew how hard for you it was sometimes to be so open about your own desires, and he was genuinely happy that you were trying for him, but also unconsciously getting better for yourself. 

You were confident, so was Jake. You both created a bound so unique and powerful that could be scary sometimes, but worth it every second.

Jake appreciated every moment you voiced out your needs, now that you knew that he wanted to know any thoughts of your fantasies about him. 

On the other side, Jake maintained his whipped self as evident as ever.

Your smell all over the house, your gentle touches whenever you both decided to cook together, your laugh sounding far better than any tracks on the car radio, your cute pout when he had to go to work instead of being on the bed with you for a few more minutes, your presence being so notable when you both went out – and Jake feeling lucky to be the one holding your hands and making you giggle – and, of course, your lips always tasting like heaven, like home. 

Jake made sure that you felt needed, loved and cared as well.

And on that day he made one important decision, which was making him a bit more nervous than the normal as he drove you both to a little date on a distant beach you two discovered during one of your many car travels together. 

Paramore’s “Still into you” was playing on the radio and you were singing with a bright smile as if it was for him. He was so in love with you, soft eyes watching you whenever he got the chance, smile never leaving his lips. 

Jake was glad you couldn’t notice his heart beating fast – not only because of how gorgeous under the sunlight you looked, all happy, but due to his nervous self as well.

When he stopped the car, far enough to avoid any possibility of people seeing you two, he had one thing on his mind before putting his whole plan on work, breaking down the romantic atmosphere.

“I know it’s totally out of the blue, but I need to–”

“Eat me out?” You huffed a laugh, holding his hand. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’re a bit nervous today, my love. Is it because of your presentation next week?” You asked, watching him pause his moves to give you a flabbergasted expression, making you laugh. “I know how to read you, pretty boy,” and with that you gave him a cute wink. 

Jake bit his bottom lip before stepping out of the car. You watched with a smirk as he walked around to open the door for you, just to pull you into a kiss and drag you eagerly to the backseat. 

You giggled in between the kiss as Jake leaned you fully on the seat, hovering you the way he could due the limited space. Both of you were glad that you chose to wear a skirt that day, so things should be a bit easier.

You felt Jake’s hand sneaking into your clothing piece to slowly rub your clit over your panties the same moment he trailed down his lips to nibble every sweet spot of your neck, the one near your ear making you whimper, your hands scratching his scalp gently.

“You have no idea of how much I’ve been craving you. All day thinking about your pussy on my mouth,” his low tone made you shiver.

“I’m all yours, my love,” you replied in a similar tone and heard him letting out a groan.

Jake took your answer as a green sign, his impatient fingers moving your panties to the side so he could start to pump it into you. He observed your soft features turning into lustful ones and  couldn’t hold back his urge to capture your lower lip with his teeth before smirking and going down on you.

“Legs on my shoulder, princess,” Jake said as he positioned himself between your thighs, mouth watering as if he was going for his favorite meal. With your help he moved your panties down just enough for him to dive into you with passion.

Your hands found comfort on his hair, as always. Not only did you loved to grab it, feeling the silky strands running through your fingers, but Jake enjoyed it as well, groaning with pleasure whenever you pulled a bit harder or guided him to ride on his face.

Jake’s mouth made its work on your cunt by sucking, licking and flicking his tongue every once and a while, his nose rubbing on your clit whenever he shook his head purposely to create that friction, hearing your pretty moans filling up the car. Your back arched, your hips bucked forward and your thighs tried to close every time Jake gave more attention to your sensitive clit. His name being the only thing voiced out by you in between moans. 

The sensation of Jake’s hair tickling your thighs worked as a stimulus as well, your body always responded to any of his touches with such intensity, as if you were made just for him. And you strongly believed you were.

“I’ve got you, sugar,” Jake said muffed when he noticed your walls clenching more around his tongue, you threw your head back, breath growing heavier and heavier, your mind doing a full spin because of how good Jake was working on you. “Cum for me, yeah? All over my mouth, babe.” 

And as if he gave you permission to have your orgasm, you did, your juices being drunk by Jake fervently while you screamed his name. You were panting when he leaned over to share your own taste with you. Jake helped you to get yourself together, giving you water and a tender kiss on your forehead. 

After you both recovered – mainly you –, you got out of the car to watch the sunset. As you normally did, you sat on the car hood with his help, and since the car was facing the horizon you both could watch it together in a hug, with Jake between your legs.

“Y’know what I was thinking of?” Jake murmured against your cheek. 

“What?” You asked back, gently playing with his hair. The sound of the waves crashing on the rocks soothing the atmosphere. 

“When I once said I could watch a hundred sunsets with you, you’d still be the prettiest view,” he looked at you with tender, lovingling eyes. 

“Oh,” your lips curved in a sincere smile because of the reminiscence. “The first time we said I love you.”

“Yeah, I still agree with the last part,” he whispered, planting a small peck on your lips as you giggled. “But–” Jake sighed nervously, hesitant on his words. 

Your heart started to beat faster since you noticed a shift in the mood. “Yes, my love?”

“I don’t think a hundred sunsets will be enough, Y/N,” he said seriously and you noticed how his cheeks got colored by a light shade of pink. You blinked, confused. You watched Jake get a little box from his pockets, opening and showing you two rings, one of them having a moon and the other a sun. “Would you let me be with you for a bit more?”

Your lips parted in shock. Your eyes began to burn and before you could even stop it, tears ran down your face as you hugged him tightly, laughing in pure joy, repeatedly saying “yes”. 

Jake once promised you a hundred sunsets – and a bit more. 

Now you promised him your heart. A thousand times, if necessary. 

[gamblersdoll]

hi hun! Love ya work and everything bout it 😼😼 deserve more recognition fr I’m not too sure bout your rules for asks so feel free to deny but but but it’s rotting at my brain and I need it satisfied 😞 but reader being a brat and bakugo going to punish her at home but then she falls sick and it turns into domestic bakugo taking care of reader mhm? I’m so sick rn and I want domestic but I also want like Ughughugh idk babe do what you want with it just brain worms LOL

implied smut, fluff, comfort, domestic katsuki !

ping!

the notification goes instantly to his phone, you putting your phone down and laying against the mattress the both of you shared. your phone immediately goes off, taking a peak and its just him rambling to himself practically..

‘im going to fuck you up.’

‘keep playin with me at work and im going to play in your pussy next.’

you smile to the phone, but your stomach somewhat churns for whatever reason. you probably have another stomach bug, being prone to stomach issues and back issues. you reply really quickly, tossing your phone and groaning into the pillow in the fetal position.

it doesnt take long for him to get home, however. he busting through the room and seeing you curled up, he thinks your ready for him to take you like he did last weekend.. but something’s off, your skin is greenish and clammy. “hey.. you good? the matter?”

“dont feel good.” you mumble, hands clutch your stomach and moan. “sorry.. i know you were excited about fucking—“

“hoe, shut up.” he grunts, scooping you up and taking you to the bathroom. “where does it hurt?” he asks, watching you lift your shirt and he feels around. “here?” he asks, rubbing your neck and kissing your cheek. “sounds like you got another stomach virus.”

“yeah.. you dont have to be around—“

“didnt i just tell you to hush it?” he asks, flicking your head and starting a bath. the waters’ cool, him slowly settling you inside. “sit here for a sec, relax and ill fix some food.” he mumbles, talking about hes calling for the next week.

“you dont have to..” you mumble watching him untie his boots.

“i do, because i know im going to get sick and its for sickness and in health, stupid.” he replied, glaring at you. “you do know that i love you, right?”

you nod, feeling some what better.

eventually, he has you take some herbal tea and put you on the bed. “just rest, youll be okay— and we’ll figure it out.”

“are you mad that we cant fuck..?”

“have you or have you not been dating me for four years?” he asks like you had six heads, putting a hand on your stomach. “no im not mad, yes i still love you, no i wont hold it against you, no im not mad i got to miss work, yes i will stay with you.”

note taken.

[thisonehere]

Can you write about Smoke and female reader going on a date and some creep (maybe black or red dragon) walks up to the reader and tries to hit on her and even went far as smacking her butt really hard and Tomas loses his patience overall and beats the crap out of the creep?

My Hero

Tomas x reader

A/n: Okay, love this idea. I love writing Tomas in such a protective position. Btw, sorry to all the Rachel’s out there. Had to think of some name lol

C/w: Sexual harassment, S/a, mention of blood and violence

Tonight wasn't supposed to go like this. It was just supposed to be a fun little night for you and Tomas to unwind and spend some time together. Madame Bo's seemed like the perfect place to do it. The place as a whole had a really nice vibe always you feel at home . "I'm going to go get us a table." Tomas said to you. You just nodded as you took in the place. The smell of delicious food filled the air as restaurant staff and the distant sound of Bo berating someone. You smiled at it, you haven't been here for so long. "Pick the one with the nicest view." You ask Tomas as you dodged out of the way of a busy waitress with a tray full of food, the sight of it making you more hungry. "You're my nicest view." Tomas said with an abashed smile. You let a light chuckle at this. "Tomas! Really? Go!" You said with a smile.

You watched Tomas's giant figure disappear in the crowd. You waited at the entrance, your eyes wandered around and eventually found their way to the sky as you admired the stars above. It felt so nice to be out with Tomas, it was just him and you, just how you liked it. "Well, hello there." You heard a voice suddenly spoke to you. You looked down to find a stranger in front of you. He wore all black and small like a mix of alcohol and urine. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal a tattoo on his forearm, a clan marking. You narrowed your eyes as you immediately recognized, a black dragon marking. You didn't know the difference, but you did realize just how dangerous this could potentially be. He flashes you crooked smile, making your stomach churn in discomfort. Out of politeness you forced a smile into your face in return. "Um, hi."

"What's your name?" His eyes bounce up and down your body, eyeing specific parts of, you shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Um, Rachel." You lie, your eyes dart desperately inside, hoping that Tomas will come back right now to save you. "Rachel, huh?" He seems to bite his lip just a little. "Not bad for a Rachel..." He mumbles under his breath, causing you to feel more uncomfortable. You didn't like the way he was looking at you, you felt something horrible in your gut as you avoided eye contact.

"You come here often?" At this second you saw an opportunity. "Yes, I came here tonight with my boyfriend." You say, making sure to emphasize the boyfriend part. Hoping that this'll cause him to leave you alone. But he just shrugs at this. "Your boyfriend isn't here right now, is he? It's just you and me." His lips curl as you panic internally. "You know, me and my boys, we come here all the time. We go wherever we want actually, different states, different countries." his eyes gleamed at you expecting you to be impressed with his flex. "Uh, cool." You say awkwardly, trying to think of a way to escape from him. "What's your number? I could take you with me...if you are a good a good girl for me." You smile wanes at this. "Uh, excuse me, I have to go-" You try to quickly walk away, but he side steps you and blocks your path, that gross grin still on his face. "Hey, where you going?"

"Uh, M-My boyfriend's probably wondering where I am. So, I should go." You feel your heart begin to race as you try to get past him. But he's adamant about blocking you. "What's the rush? I'm sure he can wait." He stared at you up and down, the grin still on his face. "Come on, give a chance. I'm a nice guy." At that second, you see Tomas in the distance. His smile slowly fades as he sees the black dragon standing in front of you and the distressed look on your face, causing him to speed up. You drowned the man out as Tomas approached, you felt your heart beat against your chest as Tomas desperately made his way through the crowd of people. You were pretty sure the man asked for your number, he tried to ask what your sign was, he asked if you were even listening.

"Y/n! " Tomas called as he finally made it you. The black dragon looks over his shoulder, his narrowed eyes stretch at the sight of Tomas. He clears his throat and puffs up his chest. "Excuse me? Listen, I don't know who this 'Y/n is, but me and Rachel are having a conversation. Fuck off." He tried to make his voice sound deeper as his eyes darted all over Tomas's large figure.

Tomas steps in front of you, getting in the man's way. "Okay, feel free to talk to this 'Rachel', while me and Y/n excuse ourselves." If you could see his face, the man no doubt was confused. "Wait, what-" but Tomas interiors him, "Excuse us." Tomas gently takes your hand, "Come one." He softly whispers to you as you. "So it's like that 'Y/n', huh?". You avoid eye contact as you pass by him. "Alright then, let me know when you want a real man. I'll be sure to remember that sweet ass of yours?"

You gasp as you feel the sting of his hand slap your butt. Immediately, Tomas spins on his heels to face the Black dragon, who eagerly meets his face with a smirk. "What?". You were in too much shock to speak, you just stared at the two as they stared at each other. "Listen, you better run off before I-" but before he can finish his sentence, Tomas's fist slam into the man's face at lightning fast speed. The man slams onto the ground, a surprised look on his face as he clenches his broken nose. Many people inside stopped what they were doing to peer outside and see what was going on. "Fuckin' bastard, I'll-I'll kill you! And then I'll grab you bitch and-" he doesn't have a chance to finish, Tomas grabs him by the throat and begins to pummel him. You stood there and watched, slightly scared, you never saw this part of Tomas before. You knew he was Lin Kuei, but you never anticipated he could be this brutal.

After a few more hits, Tomas stops and stares down at his work. The Black dragon laid unresponsive, his blood painted all over Tomas's fist. He looks at you as if he forgot you were there, a mortified look forms into his face. "Y/n, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...in-in front of you-I-I" he lowers his head in embarrassment, he didn't mean to get so violent in front of you. But the moment the man touched you, everything went red for Tomas. "A-Are you okay?" He finally found the courage to speak. You looked at the Black Dragon and then back at Tomas, "I-I am...Thank you."

You offered your hand to Tomas. Your lips curl a little into a small but grateful smile. Tomas turned your smile and took your hand, and you both went back into the building, leaving the Black Dragon unconscious on the ground outside.

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Three

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.

Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.

A/N: Part two and one.

"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 

Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 

"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 

"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 

Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 

"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 

"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 

"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 

"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 

Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  

"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 

"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 

Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 

She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 

"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  

"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 

"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 

"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 

"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 

Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  

She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  

"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 

Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  

"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 

"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 

"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 

"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 

"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 

"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 

"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 

"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 

Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.  

"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 

Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 

Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 

Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  

"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 

Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  

"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  

"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  

"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 

"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 

Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 

"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 

Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  

"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  

Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  

"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 

"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  

"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 

Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 

She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  

If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  

Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  

"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 

————

By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.

She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.

“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.

“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.

“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”

“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”

“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.

As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.

By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.

“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.

“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.

“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”

Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.

“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”

You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”

“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.

“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”

Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”

A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”

“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”

You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.

“Sure. Sounds great.”

After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.

“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”

Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.

“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”

She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”

Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.

“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.

“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”

“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”

She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”

“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”

“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.

“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."

You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 

Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  

Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 

"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 

You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 

"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 

Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  

"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 

Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 

"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 

Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  

"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 

She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  

"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  

Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 

You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  

"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  

You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 

Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 

Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  

Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 

There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  

"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."

Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.

"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 

"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.

"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  

In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  

You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 

Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 

You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  

"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 

Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 

"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 

Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 

Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 

"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 

You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  

Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 

You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 

"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 

Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  

"I'm glad to hear that." 

You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  

"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 

"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 

She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.

"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."

"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 

Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 

You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 

"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 

Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 

"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  

"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 

She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  

A/N: Part Four is available here.

[deathbxnny]

helloo, platonic aventurine, sunday and jing yuan with a teen!reader like ai hoshino?

(reader is a talented and captivating idol/singer, but outside of their idol persona they are sort of empty, trying to understand love and often doing self-destructive things while doing so)

Hey there, Anon! Thank you for your request, and I'm sorry this took so long! Life sucks as usual, lol. Anyways, I hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Hurt/comfort, angst, platonic relationships, potential mentions of depression and themes surrounding that, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》SUNDAY

Sunday already knew alot about the life of an idol through his own sister being one. But this also meant that he could look right through you with ease. Hiding your true feelings from him was impossible, but that also meant that he wouldn't confront you about it immideately. He simply observes your downfall in this suffocating and fast lifestyle before finally pulling you aside to see what the real issue is.

He sympathises with you deeply, mainly due to your young age and him knowing how hard it is to uphold a perfect appearance all the time. He keeps an eye on you closely, not letting you drown in your self-destructive methods, no matter how hard you fight him on the matter. He knows there is only just so much you can take before you break completely, after all.

Sunday eventually forces you to take a break from everything, where he takes you under his wing and essentially nurses you back into a healthy mental space. Whether he uses his abilities or not is really up to how well you respond to this, but he won't let you return to your life as an idol until he's convinced of your improvement.

》AVENTURINE

Aventurine could also easily see through your facade, mainly because, in a way, he very much related to you. You were young, forced into this fast life as an idol that seemed to only spiral downwards until you were barely able to keep up your perfectly strained smile. He understood you. He really did, which is why he wanted to help you in the first place. But he knew it wouldn't be an easy task at all.

You were hellbent on concealing your self-destructive ways, the question of what truly meant and felt like always hanging over your head, heavy on your young shoulders. He'd reach his hand out for you, offering to help you out of this hole life has unfairly dug for you, promising that it won't hurt your idol life. Unless escaping is what you wanted.

He becomes somewhat of a mentor/big brother figure to you, someone you can come to when the days get too dark and you need a bit of light to guide you back to the exit. He knows that with time, you'd eventually be able to deal with things on your own. But for now, he'll be there for you, just the way he wished someone would've been there for him all those years ago.

》JING YUAN

Jing Yuan is rather sly, yet at the same time, very stern with his approach to your obvious self-destructive demise. He knew from the start that your life as an idol would be plagued with uncertainties and sadness that a young teen like you could never handle on your own for long. But he waits for you to come to him first, like you knew you could. He didn't want to assume wrong and anger you, after all.

He doesn't have to wait for long, however, as you eventually break and come to him with the near ashamed plea of wanting to take a break and get help from everything that has been plaguing your young mind. The life of an idol wasn't easy, and he knew that, which is why he simply obliged and announced to the Luofu that you'd be taking an indefinite break from everything. Your happy-go-lucky attitude had been completely demolished by then, the guilt killing you, and yet he still didn't let you slip through his fingers and sink any further.

It doesn't matter how long it takes. You'll eventually come back to singing in much better health than ever before one way or another, him cheering you on quietly with a content smile from afar.

Alright, Anon... I'm sorry if this isn't good, I've been super busy with everything lately, so I hope this is alright!! Thank you again for the request!!<33

[marchsfreakshow]

Red Nail Polish [Stan Bowes]

Smut / tiny bit of angst

Your boss never really spoke to you that much. Not really. So, you weren't particularly expecting a call from him at 12am asking you to come over.

This request is from AGESSS ago but I finally found some inspiration. Anon who requested it, if you're still here this is for you<3

Fair warning I haven't seen Pose for a bit so it might sound a bit ooc sorry.

Warnings: once again too much plot for a smut fic lol, brief 'sir' kink, Stan being kinda pathetic, oral (m), reader is a little mean occasionally.

18+! MINORS DNI READ MY SFW WORKS

No one's perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Stan never spoke to you. Tell a lie, he did. Occasionally. Brief hellos while he walked to a meeting maybe. Small talk maybe going over whatever he asked you to do.

There was never more than that. No lingering glances in your direction, no knowing smiles. Seemed like nothing. That's all your relationship was.

You worked like this for a few months.

Never speaking much together. Maybe you gave him lunch if he asked. You always found him cute though. The way his hair just sat the same every day, the way his eyes always gave you the same soft look when he walked past you. It was, slightly perfect. Too perfect.

Men have their secrets, you assumed he probably had his. That's probably why you liked his eyes. Too much of a past to stare at, too much to get into with your own boss who you barely spoke more than... 4 words to. You couldn't really casually go up to Stan and ask him, "Hey sir how's your home life? It's going good? Yea, your eyes say otherwise." You weren't insane!

The hours were long.

The weeks were tedious.

Eventually getting a few more words into Stan. Small conversations over lunch that didn't amount to much. The man found himself enjoying your company. "You do anything over the weekend?" He asked, adjusting himself in his chair a bit. Did he look uncomfortable? Probably.

The silence was nice, so you were slightly taken aback by his out of nowhere question. "Uh, went to see a production of Two Gentlemen Of Verona. That was nice."

"Oh, nice. On your own?"

On my own? What was that meant to mean?

"Yeah."

"Right."

The rest of lunch continued. Stan seemed off. On the edge of his seat, literally. He was uncomfortably perched on his chair, attempting to attain something just out of grasp. You noticed his fidgeting; flicking of his nails, slight playing with his food, eyes flickering around to avoid your own eyes. You wanted to pry but also figured you didn't talk enough to ask if he was okay. Stan would probably say that he's fine and you'd get right back to the slightest bit of uncomfortable silence.

Back to work.

Back to small smiles, little questions, and writing notes to yourself. For the next couple of hours. Boring and repetitive until 5:30pm. Everyone caught themselves up and left immediately. You found yourself a face in the crowd, heading towards your car before Stan got a moment to say 'Have a good evening' to you.

It was a lonely evening. He was used to hearing the TV play some children's shows for a while, hearing the little ones talk excitedly about what they did at school. Just being excited for no reason. But, no, he was greeted with silence this night. It was deafening. He had to be alone with his thoughts. It was another quick meal in the microwave. He had to face the rare few dishes still lingering in the sink. Mouldy food starting to stick to the porcelain. Only served as a reminder of the reality Stan currently lived in.

A lonely movie, lying on the couch in whatever clothes he could find. Staring up at the ceiling, blank-minded, thinking nothing. The movie waved past his ears. "Can I talk to you?"

Stan's phone call at 12am wasn't what you were expecting. You were half lying in bed, reading still. Very close to finishing the book, and that was what you were focused on. "Sir... Stan, it's 12am."

"sir...hey, call me that again," he murmured under his breath, closing his eyes. Lost in his thoughts of your voice. Maybe you shouldn't've been giving in to his desires. Stan had mentioned his wife, and his kids multiple times. He told you plenty of stories, but he seemed slightly out of it tonight.

Despite your lingering thoughts, you said 'fuck it' and responded quietly, your book closed on your lap. "Why sir? Something happened?"

"Yeah, actually. I, um, I was wondering if you could... come over."

A chuckle. "Stan.. it's midnight."

"I know. I know...just, please. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important." Stan eventually told you his address, and you made a quick mental note. Agreeing eventually, and you hung up. Maybe you should pack an overnight bag. Yeah, maybe you should.

The drive took more time than you expected. You didn't properly change out of your home clothes either, just slipping on some underwear and trousers that weren't so... messy. Knocking quickly with the overnight bag still in the backseat of your car. "Ah, hi." Stan looked a mess, more than you felt right now and it almost broke your heart.

"Hey...why did you want me to come over?"

Stan took your hand, led you inside, and closed the door once you stood in the living room. It was certainly more messy than you would have expected. A bit of trash, a messed up couch, a random movie still playing dully on the TV. This... certainly wasn't what you were expecting. "Stan?" You asked, peeking out to the hallway.

"Sorry...sorry." The man sniffled. He quickly ran a hand over his face then took a few steps back into the living room. "Uh, come sit down. I'll, get you a drink." The words, the steps and his look only added to your confusion. Sure he was certainly...alone now, but the mess, and his clothes.

You took a few steps towards Stan and immediately held onto his arms. "Stan. What's going on?" Cutting him off of any words he was about to say. Stan looked at you, then at your hands on his arms. Then back into your eyes.

"She's gone."

Eyes wide. "Oh." How do you comfort people again? More specifically, how do you comfort your suddenly divorced boss who definitely hasn't been invading your thoughts recently? His eyes found the floor, like it was the most interesting thing in the room and said nothing for a moment.

People like hugs right? That should work. Enveloping Stan in a hug, your arms around his neck. Holding him close for a moment as he reluctantly wrapped his arms around your back. Awkward, but somehow comforting. It went on for a little bit too long, and once you pulled yourself away, his eyes found the floor again.

He wasn't really thinking much. You blinked and he kissed you. Wait what? His hands on your cheeks. This was not happening. Before he continued to kiss you, you took a step away. "Stan-"

"Fuck. Sorry." The man uttered, sitting on the couch instead. He looked quite sorry for himself. A bit of a pathetic sight really. It tugged at whatever empathetic heartstrings you had left. Stan clearly did something, and you probably should've left right then and there. I mean, were you really thinking about this? There are multiple reasons for his wife leaving, presumably with the two little kiddies. "Look, I just.." He trailed off once he saw you settle between his legs.

"um.."

"You're obviously feeling upset, and I know you did something but I don't really know any other way to comfort you." You muttered, taking a loop in the sweatpants and pulling it so the waistband became looser. Stan brought his hips up for a moment so you could pull the fabric from his hips and let it settle around his ankles.

"you really don't have to.." He protested. Stan's protests were weak. He clearly hadn't been touched for a while. Or he was incredibly attracted to you. While yes technically, you didn't have to, you felt some semblance of upset for Stan and his situation. And you figured this would be the best way to temporarily help him out. Fuck it, you might get a raise out of this tomorrow once the man came to his senses, you didn't know.

Stan's lack of pleasure for a while was obvious. He was achingly hard already, and you had barely slipped your hand into his boxers. Bit sad really. But you digressed. Slowly touching him under the fabric for a few moments, hearing his breathing get heavier, and occasional little moans escaping him. Eventually, though, Stan pulled your hand away just to tug his boxers down his legs to join his sweats.

Ah, you knew what to do now. You muttered nothing to yourself, as you rested your fingers around Stan's cock again. Taking a breath, leaning in. Your tongue resting on the underside for a moment. "Ha.."

"You okay?" You asked, pulling yourself away for a moment, looking up at Stan.

"It's uh, it's been a while.."

"Figured." Ouch. That stung in Stan's heart for a moment. The feeling immediately replaced once your lips were wrapped around his dick once again. He couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to watch you or let his head fall back against the couch. So, he eventually decided to let his head fall against the couch as you started to take more of him down your throat. One hand resting next to him on the couch and the other hesitant to rest on your head. He didn't know what type of person you were, so he could've tried to push you down and you would've hated that.

But, you just continued without a care in the world. Eyes screwed shut as your cheeks hollowed with every movement. You pulled away from time to time to breathe, revelling in the sound of Stan's small groans, whimpers and gasps. They were the sweet sounds and made it all the better. The sounds of a lonely boss who you honestly, were still decently interested in.

Yea. You were definitely going to get a raise out of this.

Stan let out another groan, keeping his fingers taut against your hair. As soon as you felt the telltale sign in your mouth, you pulled yourself away, heavily breathing still. Starting instead to jerk Stan off quickly, keeping the same pace for another few moments, until he came in your hand. Dripping down his cock and your fingers as Stan bucked up to ride himself through his orgasm since you didn't seem to help him.

"a-ah shit. I'm sorry.." He muttered once he realised he made a mess of your hand. Coincidentally, a tissue box was by the TV stand, so you stood up, cum over your hand and grabbed the box, bringing it over to Stan. Not as satisfying as Stan had hoped, but it was something and it made him feel a little better.

Silently, you cleaned your hand up, throwing the stained tissues in the bin quickly. Stan followed, slowly cleaning himself up and dressing himself back up. Cue awkward silence for a few moments. "Thanks."

"Yeah. Course."

Another few moments of silence between the two of you, ads playing in the background on the TV. Looking around the living room as you just sat there for a moment. Stan finally said something, just your name. Looking over to you with a hopeful look. "Can we...can I..take you somewh-"

"No." Stan blinked and then looked over at the wall, feeling slight whiplash at you saying no immediately. "Whatever the fuck happened... whatever the fuck you did... It clearly only just happened. And I don't think that's a good idea."

"You just-"

"Yeah, I'm fully aware of what I just did Stan."

A beat of silence. Both of you felt like at least one of you said something wrong. You figured it was Stan. Who goes and suggests a date to their secretary right after their wife left them? "...a few weeks?"

"Try a few months sir." You knew exactly what you were doing with that word. Stan knew too. There was no need for you to call him that right now. Glancing at each other.

But you got up silently and walked out to your car, leaving Stan in confusion for a couple of minutes. Once you came back in, overnight bag in hand, Stan got the idea. Well, he hoped it was the right idea. Being led through the house until you were in his room.

You were sure this was going to result in way more than a raise by this point.

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

Tags: @babygorewhore / @taintandviolent / @oceanblvd111 / @nahoyasboyfriend / @slutforgarlogan / @briaroftheroses @american-horror-whore /. @evanpeterspeter / @feefymo / @fear-is-truth / @lacucarachapisser / @saintlucretia / @jazz-berry / @t8-ak47 / @lemoniiiiiii / @xrag-dollx

[theundercoversquid]

Of Red Cheeks and Red Race Suits

Pairing: Mick Schumacher x F!Reader

Request: hello, i was wondering if i could make an imagine with mick shumacher (we don't have enough lol)

In which the reader is a super badass pilot and Mick gets all shy because he doesn't know how to act with her and asks for help from the other pilots like Seb and Ocon to be badass only he gets all clumsy trying and in reality she being all cute and kind

A/N: This is set in a semi-made-up year (sort of based on the 2022 season, but with Ferrair doing better/actually being capable) with Mick in the Haas (but they treat him better), and the reader is in Ferrari with Charles Leclerc, but Charles joined after her, so she raced with Seb! (I was going to put them in Merc, but I figured since Mick is now a reserve driver that it would be weird)

Warnings:

Masterlist

Leaping out of your car, you ran, throwing yourself into the seething mass of red that was your team. They hollered, cheering your name as they reached out to touch you. 

You had just won the Bahrain Grand Prix, and you were leading the drivers standing. You were on top of the world.

Eventually, though, you had to part from your jubilant team. Instead of having to get weighed and do interviews before you could progress to the podium ceremony, you were on cloud nine!

As you walked over to the weighing scale, you could see a familiar flash of Green heading towards you!

"Seb", You called joyously. Throwing yourself into his awaiting arms.

"There's my little prancing horse." Seb prasied, squeezing you gently. "I told you that you were built for great things. And I was right. Look at you leading the championship standings!"

"I know, I can't believe it!" You beamed. Smiling up at your mentor and track Dad.

It was only then that you spotted the person hovering awkwardly off to the side.

"Hey, Mick." You greeted, beaming at the other German driver. "Congrats on P11. I know you will get points next time."

"Thanks, I uh... Congrats on winning." Mick stammered out. His cheeks flushed a red to rival your race suit—not that you noticed.

"Thanks," you grinned. Before you were swept up in more post-race celebrations, and dragged off to the podoim.

Oblivious to Seb elbowing a still blushing Mick in the ribs. A knowing smile on his face.

Strutting into the Australian paddock, you ignored all the cameras flashing at you as they all clamoured to get a photo of your paddock outfit; it being Thursday, you were only just getting started. But they did not care about that.

Thankfully, the further in you got, the more they left you alone. They were satisfied that they would have a good shot as they moved into the next driver to enter.

But you didn't care for their flashing lights.

As you continued in, you could see Estaben and Mick sitting outside, enjoying the Astrualina warmth before they had to begin their preparations for the media.

Smiling at the pair, you waved at them as you carried on. Oblivious to the red cheeks that you had left in your wake.

"Dieu, I knew you had a crush, but I didn't realise it was that bad!" Esteban laughed, looking at Mick's raging cheeks.

"Shush." Mick shushed frantically. Worried that somehow, you may hear the Frenchman teasing.

"What have you done to the poor man?" Lance questioned as he pulled out a chair to join the duo.

"Oh, well, a certain Ferrari driver just happened to walk past," Estaben explained in a conspiring whisper.

"Oh!" Lance laughed. "Yeah, that would explain it."

Mick just whined at his friend's teasing. His head flopping down to land on the table.

"I'm doomed."

"No, you're not." Lance Stroll assured him.

"Your Mick Schumacher, the great Haas F1 driver." Esteban cheered him on.

"And they drive for Ferrari and are leading the championship standings." Mick reminded them.

"Oh, yeah," Estaban said. "Maybe you should lower your expectations then."

"Estaban!" Lance admonished. Waking him on the arm.

"I'm joking, I'm joking." Esteban laughed. His arms raised in surrender.

"Have you thought about maybe telling them?" Lance asked softly.

"And get rejected." Mick laughed, "I think not."

"You don't know that." Lance refuted softly. "You might be surprised."

"What do you mean by that?" Mick questioned suspiciously.

"I have a hunch." Lance shrugged. "They treat you differently from how they treat us."

"He's not wrong." Esteban half shrugged.

"I'll offer you a deal," Lance proposed. "You ask them out, and if they say 'no,' you pick a destination, and I will take you on an all-expense-paid holiday to help you get over it."

"What about me?" Estaben protested, but he quickly shut his mouth at Lance's look.

Also ignoring the french man, Mick extended his hand to Lance. "Deal."

Lance clasped Mick's hand back. "Deal."

And with a shake, the deal was struck. All Mick had to do now was ask you out.

Something that was easier said than done.

It ended up taking till Monaco for Mick to pluck up the courage to finally tell you how he felt.

You were coming off the high of winning the Monaco Grand Prix, a lifelong goal for you. This meant that you had retaken the championship lead from Max Verstappen. So you were absolutely buzzing, feeling as if your veins were filled with the bubbly that had been sprayed on the podium.

Mick was also filled with Adrenaline; he had finally scored some much-needed points for Haas. The Adrenaline causing him to pull you to the side after you had taken team photos with your crew and had finally gotten out of your race suit.

"What's up, Mick?" You grinned at him. Your arm tingling from where he had softly gripped it when he asked if he could pull you aside. 

"Well, um." Mick stuttered, losing some of his confidence as his arm came up to scratch the back of his head. "Isortofmaybehaveacrushonyou." Mick blurted out, the words so rushed and jumbled you weren't sure if you had heard him correctly.

"Pardon?" You asked, still trying to work out what exactly Mick had said.

Taking a deep breath, Mick started again, "I sort of maybe have a crush on you."

"Oh, well, that's a relief." You replied airily. "Because I sort of maybe have a crush on you too."

"Really?" Mick questions incredulously.

"Yep." You replied, popping the P.

"Really?" Mick questioned again.

"Yep." You laughed at the incredulous look on his face.

"Real-" Mick started, but you interrupted him.

"Mick, just kiss me." And boy, did Mick not need to tell twice, as he instantly grabbed your face and pulled you in for a searing kiss.

[whore-4-drewstarkey]

Lips of An Angel- Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

summary: based on the song Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. (take a listen! i recommend it!!) Y/N drunkenly calls up her ex boyfriend drew, to confess her love she still has for him and all her regrets from their past relationship.

warnings: odessa…., alcohol consumption, emotional cheating (if you even call it that), angst, a tad of fluff if you squint, slight mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse (not from drew), lmk if i forgot anything bc i’m sure i did lol.

a/n: for starters…. i’ve been waiting to write this one and i was gonna do it for rafe first but it just felt more right to do drew lol. also please don’t come at me for the way i put odessa in this. (personal opinion: i don’t think they’re really a thing irl but whatever). for the sake of this fic i had to put her in it to work as she’s the only prominent female in his life besides his sisters so bare with me please. (personally not a fan of her for my own reasons and things i’ve read) hope you all enjoy this one!

revised and edited by the one and only @slut4drudy ilyyyyy

as drew had just put the last of the champagne glasses into the sink from his and odessa’s small get together with friends, he could hear his phone ringing that all too familiar ringtone… the ringtone he had set for only her. he thought to himself… how strange it’d be for her to call him at such an absurd hour after not talking to one another in two years.

him and Y/N had began to date their senior year of college at western carolina university, and just like every college couple, they eventually broke it off a few years later. it had been a mutual agreement when he got cast on netflix’s show, outer banks, as she didn’t want to hold him back any longer from achieving all the goals she knew he would. the two however kept in contact regularly until none at all just two years ago when she’d started dating her now boyfriend maverick. and from what Y/N seen drew had also moved on… to his costar odessa.

“hey, uh drew your phone is ringing. do you want me to get it?” odessa asked drew as he finished washing the champagne flutes, drying his hands hurriedly with the towel next to the sink.

“uh, nah, um i’ll go answer it. it might be my mom. you know her and not being able to sleep and missing her kids. i’m just gonna go in the reading room and take the call. i’ll be back out in twenty. sound good?” he asked warily.

“yeah yeah take your time. tell her i said hi for me” she smiled as his towering figure walked past her frame and into the living room, picking his phone up. his large thumb moved nimbly against his phones screen to answer the call from Y/N as he entered the reading room, plopping on the couch.

“h-honey, why you callin me so late? it’s kinda hard to talk right now” he stuttered out her pet name he hadn’t called her in years. all he received in return were her soft sobs from the other line. those little soft sobs shattered his heart. the last time he’d heard them was because of him. because he had spoke the idea of maybe they should break up. because he didn’t know if he could do the long distance relationship, and Y/N had just agreed. no hesitation because she wanted whatever would make him happy. and if that meant breaking up with her and breaking her heart, then so be it. she wanted what was best for him because she loved him.

“honey, why are you crying? is everything okay?” drew whispered out through the phone to his broken ex in an uneasy tone, as his jaw clenched. he hated the idea of her being sad. he always had.

“w-why are you whispering?” she sighed as more tears streamed down her face.

drew bit his lip, exhaling a huff of hot air he hadn’t known he was holding before speaking, “i gotta whisper because i can’t be too loud.”

“why? i-im sorry. i shouldn’t have called. this was so fucking stupid” Y/N slurred out into her end of the phone, catching drew’s attention.

“oh, well, my girls in the next room” he spoke as he paused to let her speak.

“like i-i said… this was st-stupid of me” she slurred out again before continuing, “you’re moved on. i get it”

“honey, Y/N, it’s not like that. i swear. s-shes not even my girlfriend” he tried to elaborate before she cut him off.

“then why’d you call her your girl?”she challenged.

“baby, you’re drunk. i can tell by the way you’re slurring your words. what’s wrong? why’d you call?” drew tried to deflect the question and ask the more important questions; why she’d called and why she’d been crying.

“answer my questions first please” she hiccuped through her phone and into his ear.

“we haven’t put a label on it. in all seriousness i don’t even know what i want. i don’t even think she knows what she wants. it’s more of a friends with benefits kind of deal” he sighed out as his left index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed once more, contemplating to speak what he’d been thinking for awhile now. “but honey, if i’m being serious, sometimes i wish she was you”

“i wish i was her too” Y/N whimpered out as she took a gulp of the vodka from the bottle she’d been coddling in her arms, sitting on the bathroom floor, hiding from maverick.

“i guess we never really moved on… did we?” he chuckled out, causing Y/N to smile at the sweet sound of his chuckle. it was bliss to her ears. she’d missed that sound so much in the last two years.

“now answer my question honey, what’s wrong? why’re you calling so later? isn’t it like after 1am there back home in charlotte. right?” he asked Y/N in a concerned tone, face scrunching up in worry as well, though she couldn’t see it.

“u-um. drew it doesn’t matter. forget i called you. okay?” Y/N tried to deflect his concerning questions he’d been shooting her way since the call had started.

“Y/N, honey. i’m not hanging up until you tell me what’s got you so bent out of shape that you’re drunk off your ass, drunk calling me at 1 am your time all while sobbing. i just won’t” he huffed out, losing his patience in the girl on the other line.

“joseph” she began to slur, sternly, “i said it doesn’t matter. go back to your girl or whatever the fuck she is to you” she hiccuped yet again.

“fuck, i cant believe i’m about to say this right now, but it’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name. it sounds so sweet” drew smiled to himself as he softly giggled. maybe it was from the champagne he’d had earlier or maybe it was the blissfulness from just hearing Y/N oh so sweet voice saying his name again.

“i love you” Y/N slurred out once more as she started to cry again. “i’ve never stopped” she continued. “i thought i could and would move on but i cant and it hurts me that we aren’t a thing anymore” she continued to weep.

“honey don’t say that. please” he frowned as his heart cracked yet again over his ex girlfriend and her words. more like over her admittance of missing him so much still even after all these years.

“why not, drew? it’s the truth” she sniffled as she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of his old college sweatshirt she’d still kept after all these year even after their breakup. she picked the bottle of vodka back up and took another swig of it.

“those words…. fuck. they’re coming from the lips of an angel baby. and hearing those words, it’s makes me so fucking weak. because as much as i want to be with you… i cant” he sighed as a single tear streamed down his stubbled cheek, not even bothering to wipe it away. he soon continued, “i never want to say goodbye, honey. and it’s so fucking hard to admit that. but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel” he dryly chuckled as the memories of their kisses ran through his brain. it still felt so real. the longing to be near her was still there. and the butterflies. and the desire to make her happy. and the want to make her feel safe and loved.

“drew, you’re the one who just said you guys aren’t even a thing so why would you even say that?” Y/N croaked out as she wiped more of her tears away.

“it’s complicated honey. i feel obligated to be faithful even if her and i aren’t really officially a thing. now please for the love of god, baby, why are you crying? what’s wrong? what happened?” drew exerted his concern as his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“i- uh, drew you cant do anything about it, so it doesn’t matter” she whimpered in a whisper, reaching for the bathroom door knob to make sure it was in fact locked. she squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she heard mavericks yells from their kitchen.

“you know, it’s funny that you called me tonight, Y/N/N, because we had some friends over and the whole time i was just thinking of you and how you’ve been. i haven’t heard from you in two years, hunny” drew whispered, his voice strained from the way his heart clenched in pain at the lack of communication between the two when they had both promised to keep in contact.

“maybe that’s why i dream of you. you know what they say, if you dream of someone that means they’re thinking of you. do you dream of me too?” she spoke shakily, as her jaw began to quiver, biting back yet another sob.

“what about maverick? and yes i’ve dreamt of you too, love. i do often” he confessed as he thought back to his dream he had of her from the other night. the two of them had gone on a picnic in the mountains back in their home state of north carolina, enjoying the scenery and all it had to offer, that was until he was awoken by odessa’s loud alarm blaring throughout his bedroom. drew’s lips parted once more as he spoke again, “and does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?”

“th-that’s why i-i uh called. he… uh he got mad again and s-started to throw some things around the kitchen. h-he said some things which isn’t out of the ordinary with him” her frail voice cracked as she finally admitted to him why she had called him so late in the first place. tears once again started pouring out of her once bright eyes which have now been filled with void. “he drinks… a lot. and when he does… he gets kinda aggressive. he will do things to me and say horrible things as well. i-i called you tonight because i’m drunk and i miss you and i know you’d never do this shit to me and because you listen. so well. you always have” she began to cry again for what felt like the twelfth time that night.

“honey, what are you talking about? has he hit you? do you have a place to go?” drew shot up at the mention of mavericks behavior coming from Y/N. he was on high alert and wanted nothing more than to protect her at that instant.

“i shouldn’t have even called. does odessa even know you’re on the phone with me? i don’t want her to get mad at you. i shouldn’t have even called” Y/N stumbled over her words due to the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d been drinking and maybe even a mix of anxiety.

“no, i don’t think she has a clue. i told her it was probably my mom, but, i knew it was you. i still have your number saved to my phone… with your ringtone too. couldn’t get myself to delete it, even after all these years” he confessed as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. he bit his lip in frustration before speaking sternly this time around, “Y/N, honey, tell me…. has he fucking hit you?”

“y-yes. but he didn’t mean to” she tried to excuse her boyfriends actions, though deep down she knew it was a lie. “and yeah if i have to i can go to my brothers but i don’t need anyone’s fucking help or pity” she blurted a little loud.

“fuck, Y/N” he sighed as fresh tears broke his waterline of his azul eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“it’s okay, drew, i promise. i’m not your problem anymore. i haven’t been for four years now.” she expressed as she drank the last bit of the vodka that was left in the bottle.

“Y/N can you do one thing for m-“ drew was cut off by a soft knock on the reading rooms door, notifying him that someone ,odessa, was on the other side.

“hey, uh you almost done? it’s getting late and i wanna go to bed” she complained to drew as he’d pulled his phone away from his attentive ears.

“u-uh yeah. let me tell my mom goodnight real quick” he stuttered nervously, worried she’d been ease dropping on part of the private conversation he’d been having on the phone with Y/N. and with that odessa nodded her head as she left the room, shutting the door as she went.

“what is it that you want me to promise you?” Y/N sniffled.

“call me if it gets bad again. i’ll fly out there immediately”

“i promise.”

“i never wanna say goodbye” he admitted to her after her promise.

“i don’t either, but you have to” she spoke flatly as she’d just heard Odessa moments before. she opened her mouth, speaking one last line, “i love you drew”

“i-i love you too honey” drew spoke the words he’d been bottling up since the day the two broke up, as fresh tears streamed down his stubbled cheeks. during the moment he spoke those words all he could hear were mavericks yells and bangs onto the bathroom door through his phone, before the call ended all together.

taglist: @slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

[saturdaycitrus]

Ven and Vel getting jobs xD

Dancer AU!! (technically Veneer isn't a dancer in this but my explanation will be on the bottom! TLDR it was just cool so yippee [there's lore!!!!!!!])

Also! sorry@imadumdumjewel for the late reply!

If you guys req anything, I'll get to it, just may be a tad late...

Anywho! I ran a lil poll on Twitter to decide on the types of jobs they would have so here we go:

So I actually forgot to put dancer Vel/artist Ven because I kinda thought Ven would kinda fit the thing but after I finished this art I was pretty happy I didn't put it on there lol.

I honestly think that the other job options seemed pretty interesting, but no one really suggested any other jobs, and almost everyone was enthralled with the idea of dancer Ven & Vel.

For Veneer:

At first, my friend and I were planning this, but nothing really felt right to us. I did suggest Ballerino, but it didn't feel like something Veneer would do without Velvet, because they kinda come in pairs. Gymnast was also a suggestion, but after a couple minutes, it was swiftly discarded because I didn't want to draw Veneer's toes.

Anywho, while searching for other options, ice skating appeared, and my friend suggested an interesting idea as to

Lore time:

When Veneer was young, his parents pushed him towards traditionally male hobbies, such as sports and more sports. When his dad saw a flyer for an ice hockey team, he signed him up immediately. However, some mischievous kid had taped a different number to the hockey flyer, so Veneer's father ended up signing him up for figure skating instead.

At first, Veneer thought he was out of place, after all, the ratio of boys to girls was significant and he found himself to be the only one in that class. He didn't enjoy it much and regretted that he didn't join Velvet in her breakdancing course. However, as he unwillingly went to classes, he slowly started gaining a love for the sport and noticed how beautiful it was.

That led him to go down into professional figure skating and join competitions, eventually leading him to go down in history. For Velvet

My friend suggested swapping traditionally male and female dance styles, which led to the eventual conclusion: breakdancing. Velvet is a strong-willed character who would definitely try to get her way (as shown in the trailer of the movie) and take the classes that she liked.

Lore time:

When Veneer got signed up to do ice hockey, Velvet felt like she didn't have to deal with her little brother all day, and felt that she had a lot of time to herself. At first, she found a lot of things to do every day, running to places, going to parties, and just generally having fun.

At this point, Veneer was still unwilling to go to figure skating classes, (turns out Velvet was the mischievous kid who changed the number on the ice hockey flyer into a figure skating course phone number) but since his father had already paid for a year, he had to go anyways. Velvet would purposely use this to upset Veneer when she didn't get what she wanted, but then would accidentally make Veneer cry, resulting in her getting lectured by her parents, and Velvet holding back tears as she apologized to Veneer (she was totes in the fault here tho).

She realized that the more free time she had, the more her parents would lecture her. She decided right then and there that she would sign up for a class. She spent days, scrolling her phone and watching videos of different skills to decide what she wanted to do. However, nothing caught her eye.

Then, one day, she saw a kid do a flip, and slip and fall miserably. First, she took a video and laughed, and then thought to herself, "Hey, I could do that waaaayyyyy better. That kid's a failure!" And so she threw herself into learning it, but unsurprisingly, she fell flat on her face.

She was unhappy with this result, so she immediately went to her parents and asked them to sign her up for a breakdancing course. However, she had a tendency to give up when things got annoying/hard, so her parents turned her away each time. However, both the nonstop pestering and the fact that she no longer was bullying Veneer (because she was too busy following her parents around and throwing tantrums), they finally gave in.

From then on, she started breakdancing classes, and Veneer was upset because now his sister got to do something she liked, but Veneer was stuck in ice skating hell. He was very unhappy for some time, but then decided, "If she's gonna be happy, I gotta be happier. I gotta upstage her". So, he took to ice skating and started focusing all his efforts on it.

Velvet, seeing her twin brother become increasingly devoted to learning the trade she had forced him into while she had just started to get bored of breakdancing, felt a spark of competition and decided to practice harder.

Her parents were really impressed. Periodt. Now they are famous both nationally (Veneer) and on the streets (Velvet, for breakdancing, not giving up). YIPPEE

THE END

[leqonsluv3r]

Hey how's it going? I was wondering if you would do an imagine of re4r Leon x Wesker reader, where she is Wesker's daughter

heartbeat

re4!leon kennedy x weskers!daughter reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: MDNI, 18+, enemies to lovers basic troupe (bc i can and im a slut for it), some foul language, mentions of readers raging daddy issues (thanks wesker), age difference by like a few years (reader is 21 and leon is 27), reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, smut (obviously), unprotected sex (for the love of god please wrap it), praise (and some small degradation), hair pulling, he slaps her once, spanking, slightly soft!dom leon, bratty and stubborn asf reader and whatever foul things i’m forgetting

“he sees her in a way that makes her bones ache, like the oncoming of a storm or a tornado before it wipes people out. she sees it, whenever she’s unfortunate enough to run into him. she sees the way he looks down at her (and not just for her age, or her height) but for who her dad is. albert wesker. did she ever want to be born? carry that title at the agency? fuck no, she never did. but leon, looking down at her like scum off of his shoe…only made her burn more. in a way that was dangerous, yet thrilling.”

— or leon finally has enough of weskers daughters shit and decides to put her in her place

an: this request is hopefully what you asked for anon? and if not, so sorry in advance lol. i just took your idea and ran with it. also, it’s super long, i got carried away. also making up for how long i haven’t posted. pls enjoy <3

hate it’s a very strong word. it’s the only word she’s ever used to describe dislikes and things she’d rather not talk about.

she hates leon, even though she’s not supposed to. she’s supposed to like him, be buddy buddy with him but she can’t bring herself to be. not when he looks at her like she killed his family.

she didn’t, just for some context.

she’s tried to reconcile with the feeling of him glaring daggers at her every five seconds whenever they’re in the same room. or the way he looks when someone else mentions your name. it’s almost like a fun drinking game.

see how many times leon can glare at you in one social gathering before your hammered. she would play it if she drank, just to ease some of the tension of the heated looks that coated his blue eyes.

and what did she ever do to him anyways? absolutely nothing. she just existed and apparently, just like her father, that was enough to make her scum on the bottom of the hypothetical shoe.

her father, that was another reason she hated when leon would glare at her. it’s like that’s all he could see, she could see the hatred burn in his irises like the plague. a hatred for her, her father and seemingly all the things that her father had done wrong.

which was a lot, to be fair.

but having to be right next to leon, while your father talked to you both, it was like she was in her worst nightmare and she could pinch herself just so she would wake up.

that was what was happening right now, sitting in the organizations main office, ada standing idle at the door, almost as if she was guarding it from her or leon making a run for it.

she did not want to be here with her enemy and the guy she hates sitting next to her while they wait for her father. leon apparently didn’t want to be here either, if his grumbles and small looks of discomfort were any indicator.

he was literally sitting in his rivals office, sneaking glances at ada every so often, sending small glares in your direction, all while they waited for your father to make his designated appearance.

eventually ada gets uncomfortable with the silence and the looks and leaves, probably to stand outside the room. you thank god, crossing your legs in your chair and scooting it away from leon’s figure in the chair next to her.

it’s like the tension could be cut in this room with a knife, she could see him glaring at her out of the corner of her eye. subtle glares that she could pinpoint not just from her endless training but from the fact of leon’s obvious lack of subtlety.

“can i help you? or would you rather just keep glaring at me like i killed your puppy?” she says with a small sudden look in his direction, catching him head on. he scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest, tossing some of his hair out of his eyes, “i don’t have to answer you.” he responds.

“at least you can fucking speak. i thought you only could communicate with grunts and scoffs.” she says with a small sarcastic smile, looking directly at him as if to size him up or something. she knew she could probably take him if it came to that. the thought excited her but also made her heart pick up.

he mutters something to himself and doesn’t say anything, which is typical leon behavior when he’s even in the same vicinity as her. she didn’t know why her father wanted them both here.

and she had no clue why she was literally being forced to sit in a room with someone who avoided her like the plague. she shifts in her seat and looks down at her lap again, drumming her manicured hands against her knee and bouncing her leg as she waited.

the silence was almost as thick as the tension, it could probably swallow them both if they weren’t careful. “can you stop doing that?” she hears him say in a low voice. she rolls her eyes internally, what was his problem now?

“stop doing what?” she says in a small snap, obviously irritated as she whips her head in his direction to look at him. his blue eyes were hard, stone like and it felt like he could freeze her just with a look. she was surprised that she wasn’t.

“tapping your leg. moving it. just stop.” he says as he glances towards her legs crossed over each other in the chair, one bouncing regularly as she just sat there and did absolutely nothing.

seriously? what is his fucking deal? she thinks to herself as she rolls her eyes at him again, ignoring his request as she continues to bounce her foot in her chair. she simply uncrosses them and lets her boot clad feet rest on the floor, still bouncing one leg.

he shoots her daggers, like a look that could slice her skin clean open. she didn’t dare look at him, knowing that she was pushing him, making him more annoyed and irritated. but she didn’t really care, she just wanted her dad to be here so she could get the fuck away from leon and his penetrating look.

he doesn’t say anything, the glares and sighs and scoffs never ending as she kept bouncing her knee as she anxiously waited. eventually, he got fed up and slammed a hand down on her knee that was bouncing.

“enough. i said quit it.” he says in a low voice towards her, leaning over the arm of his chair so that he could make his message quite clear: don’t fuck with him. she swallows and her eyes go a tad wide, she looks down at the knee he’s holding, his hand so large over her knee it makes images appear in her mind that she wants to not have right now.

“okay, jesus. i won’t do it anymore, just let go of me.” she says in irritated tone, moving her knee and her entire chair away from him. he slips his hand away and just presses his lips together, his jaw clenching like a fist. she swallows subtly and just keeps herself away from him.

“good. your finally fucking learning something.” he says in a small smirk finds its way onto his lips, she doesn’t dare look over at him fully. settling for the peripheral view of him in his chair next to hers, sitting behind the desk.

she doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before the door opens and albert wesker finally makes his long delayed appearance. and for once, she’s glad her father is actually in the room, the lesser of two evils at the moment.

but it still rings in her mind, what did leon mean? what did any of this mean? and…why did that touch on her knee send her into such a wave of confusion? she’d hope that some questions would be silently answered soon. 

turns out that the reason they were both there, was not for some lecture or some lesson. but rather for leon to teach her more about discrepancy during missions. which unfortunately for her meant that she had to train with him.

leon wasn’t thrilled about it either, he looked like he was about ready to punch her dad when he made the suggestion. and he argued, “why me? why not someone from this organization? why the rivals?” whining like a child who got paired with another child he didn’t like.

she would’ve laughed if her father wasn’t staring directly at her, glaring like she would get reprimanded for looking at him funny. but wesker didn’t answer leon’s question, just annoyingly stated that it was because he said, and unfortunately for the both of them thats how they ended up in their current position.

standing in a training room at the DSO, letting him attempt to teach her some moves. which if his instruction wasn’t good, she would be totally lost. at least he had that going for him.

she was offended by her father’s statement, not living up to his fucking beyond perfect standards. like no matter what she did, whatever mission she completed…it was like it meant nothing to him.

like she was just supposed to be just like him, stoic and untouchable. she wasn’t, she was nothing like him and he had to know that or he wouldn’t push her so hard and break her down like this.

knowing her weak spot of hatred for leon kennedy, using him as an excuse so she could get pushed harder and harder until she eventually broke into pieces. knowing how this would all play out, letting leon have his fun with throwing punches and swings her way like he’s probably always wanted too.

this is their third training session, the first two sessions spanned two weeks after the discussion with her father in the organization’s office. during this particular training session leon had been giving her shit, trying to poke at her, hitting all her weak spots that she didn’t even know she had.

“step into it and actually act like you want to hit me.” he says harshly as he looks down at her, his chest rising and falling fast as he pulls her up harshly off the matted floor. she swallows and tries to catch her breath.

“i do want to hit you. just not for training purposes.” she hisses as she lets him pull her up roughly by her arm, landing on her own two feet again, pulling out of his grab on her arm. he sends her a disappointing look, “funny.” he deadpans as he looks at her.

“oh yeah, fucking hysterical.” she moves back away from him, moving hair behind her shoulder as she does, going to the edge of the mat in the training room. he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, “maybe if you fucking hit me like you were supposed too-“

“shut up! shut the fuck up. i will hit you. i will.” she says in a hiss as she comes charging towards him, almost sprinting as she tries to land a punch to his face but he blocks her faster, holding her fist in his large hand. “enough.” he demands, pushing her fist away harshly.

he spoke in that same tone like he did four weeks ago and she felt something in her falter. something weaken, like a dying fire inside of her bones and body. she stopped, for her own good, dropping her hand back by her side.

“you need to stop being so fucking counter intuitive with your movements. i could see that weak punch coming from a mile away.” he explains as firmly as he could, sending a small look of irritation her direction. she catches the look, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest.

“and how does one do that?” she says with a small look of annoyance and obvious boredom. something happening within her at his firm tone that she couldn’t quite place. it just felt different, she didn’t know how to feel about it.

he takes a step towards her, slow and methodical. he takes her hand that attempted to throw a punch at her, he makes a fist with her smaller hand, forming a punch gesture. “this,” he raises her formed fist by her wrist. her breath faltering a little as he does this.

“you never ever want to form a loose fist, ever. first step,” he says with conviction and firmness, she can’t even pretend to be irritated. not now, not with his hands on her hand and his tone so firm and reprimanding.

“fist tight, curled knuckles but keep them out.” he says as he runs the pads of his fingers over her knuckles, smoothing them out as if they were ripples in the sea. she simply lets him, not having the fight left in her to even move. she simply swallows and nods, as if she could focus on his direction right now.

“second thing,” he holds her wrist up with the curled fist he formed with her fingers, “always aim with purpose. always throw your punch with intention.” he says firmly, looking down deep into her eyes as he did so the message came across.

he chuckles dryly, “not like you did before when you charged at me.” he states, holding her tiny wrist in his large hand. proving his point further by dropping her hand back down at her side. her fist uncurling as a breath is released from her lips.

“now, let’s try another defense, practice the punch and do what i told you. maybe you won’t be entirely unfortunate.” he says with a small crooked smirk, mocking her obviously as he backed up. she didn’t have it in her to poke him back, she didn’t even know what was happening to her.

like she had been reduced to a puddle at his hands, only a simple touch on her hand, a firm tone and a teaching. not even a lecture, just a simple firm instruction. she was confused, but she would continue.

even though her insides felt strange and uncomfortable, like a change that was happening inside of her that she couldn’t even pinpoint and she hated it.

a month into training sessions and she still felt that weird feeling in her body whenever his tone was firm and hard towards her, like a scolding parent.

but now it was different, she felt like she was suddenly awakened. like a part of her was different. she knew it wasn’t just his training. she could tell that much, leon must’ve sensed something.

because now he’s talking to her as they sit down on the bench of the D.S.O training room, her body turned towards him, crossing her legs in her lap. she sips from her water bottle, wiping her sweaty forehead as she feels his presence next to her on the bench.

“does it hurt?” he asks suddenly, making her snap her eyes towards him, her brows furrowed. she’s surprised he wasn’t bickering with her or lecturing her on her performance in his training he’s been giving her.

“does what hurt?” she asks as she swallows the water, looking at him, brushing some sweaty hair out of her eyes from her forehead. her water bottle clenched firmly in her lap, adjusting on the bench.

he sighs and leans forward a little, propping his elbows on his knees. she keeps her eyes trained on him, where they about to have a heart to heart? seriously? she could act shocked, but deep down within her she felt something shift. “your relationship with your father. does it hurt?” he asks in almost a whisper. like it wasn’t supposed to be spoken.

she parts her lips a little, glancing down at her water bottle as she tried to think of an answer. did it hurt? did the relationship with her father, the untouchable albert wesker, hurt?

if it was like asking if a cactus hurt if you touched it, or if fire burned you if you got too close.

she already knew her answer after a few beats of silence, keeping her legs crossed on the bench. she swallows, words that have wanted to be long awaited left her mouth, “yeah, it hurts. but not for the reasons you probably think.” she responds softly.

he glances over his shoulder at her, letting it sink in, letting her response soak into his bones. “what reasons then?” he asks her, moving some of his hair out of his eyes with a small move of his head. he needed to know if his suspicions were correct or not.

or if he had been hating her almost unprovoked by the simple nature of who her dad was.

she takes a glance back up at him, looking at the way his muscles strained against the back of his t-shirt that he had worn to training today. she feels heat pool between her legs and bites her lip, a response to his question on the tip of her tongue.

“he expects perfection, all the time. blood or not blood. and it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how many missions i go on, it’s never enough.” she explains as she tries to focus on the conversation with him, she can’t deny that her gaze on him could burn holes if she looked hard enough.

and the uncomfortable pooling in her underwear did not help this situation one bit.

but still she continues, “being his daughter is a burden when it should feel like a blessing.” she whispers as she blinks her eyes, the truth felt freeing even if it was to leon, an enemy almost turned acquaintance in this past month.

he looks over at her again, leaning up and settling straight against the bench. he looks almost like he’s finally understanding now. getting both sides of the story. like he had been looking at his enemy or his competitor as one, when really it was just her and wesker.

she wasn’t him, he knew that now. he needed to be sure and now he was. he felt guilty like he had hated this girl forever for no purpose entirely, just because her father had a tainted reputation within all agency’s.

“is it really that bad?” he asks softly, again, almost as if he’s afraid to ask it. like it had been so bad hypothetically and it was too much. leon fears he already knows the answer to his question.

his blue eyes look over her sweaty and worn out frame, sitting innocently criss crossed on the bench next to him in the training room. she looked like a hurt little girl who had scraped her knee on the pavement and now leon was the one to tend to her wounds.

not her father.

“my last mission, i went to aruba. i took down an entire fleet of enemies and people without batting an eye. i typed up the report, gave it back to him and instead of saying good job, anything…he told me that my diligence was sloppy and unnecessary.” she says with a small swallow as she looks down at her water bottle in her lap, blinking some water away from her eyes.

tears or sweat? who knew.

her hair followed her, curtaining her face only slightly. as she let out a pained laugh, shaking her head, leon had opened the emotional can of worms without even potentially realizing it. “as if me taking down people, almost an entire colony, meant nothing to him.” she cracks out, taking a small shaky breath.

she looks over at him with a slightly pained expression, moving her hair out of her eyes. he could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. he wishes he could fix what damage wesker had done by simply being her father.

but he knew he couldn’t. he could only stop hating her, and that was easier said than done. but he could try, make her have something or rather someone to latch onto, to reprimand her in a way that didn’t damage her self esteem.

“what if i told you that i don’t want to be at your throat anymore? what would you say to that?” he says with a small press of his lips, looking over her sweaty and exhausted body. his cock hardened in his training gear of the thought of what lie beneath her workout outfit.

god, what would her lips feel like? sucking him off, pretty and perfect as he slid his dick into her mouth. probably look up at him all teary eyed and desperate. hell, she would probably thank him for it.

he was trying to ignore it, his dick twitching in his pants as he saw her think over his words, the gears turning in her brain.

she felt her lips part, a small breath leaving her. was it shock? some undercurrent of happiness? she didn’t know she couldn’t piece it together right now. not when she was trying to ignore her arousal and stay focused on the words coming out of leon’s mouth.

“i’d like that a lot.” she responds with a small smile, one that he hadn’t seen before. one that she hadn’t let grace her face in years it felt like. he knew this wasn’t going to be easy, being so close to her now, not being enemies.

but still, that understanding was there. she didn’t need him hating on her anymore, sending glares that were clearly reserved for her dad, her way. she didn’t deserve that, even if her father seemed like the evil embodiment of everything he hated.

he could see she was nothing like that, he smiles only slightly and nods, “alright. friends? acquaintances?” he says with a small stick out of his hand towards her. she looks down at it, swallowing thickly, his hands painting images in her mind that weren’t exactly appropriate right now.

she nods, still smiling, “friends.” she says softly and reaches out to wrap her hand around his, shaking it. his size so clearly dwarfed hers. her heart swelled a little, her core pulsing.

they were both lying to themselves and so obviously aroused, it was only a matter of time before the tension snapped. and all hell would break loose.

the next week, she walks into the D.S.O training room and she’s nervous, nervous for what? she’s not even sure but she sees him sitting on the bench like he was last week when they agreed to be friends.

he sees her walk in, she notices something different in his gaze this time but she’s not sure what. he looks almost…hungry. like he could just devour her with one look. “hey, sorry i’m late…” she begins to apologize and he stops her with his words.

she drops her workout bag on the bench, “don’t worry about it. but i have something in mind that’s different today.” he says with a small glance over her legging and sports bra clad body.

he already felt half-hard, just looking over her body and her curves. how he could get over the hate, see her as something so attractive and so delicate was beyond his comprehension. all he knew was he had to have her now, he had been thinking about this all week.

she didn’t know what he meant, she did know that he looked at her in a way no one ever had before, something deep and unrecognizable to the untrained eye. “what did you have in mind?” she asks quietly as she looks over into his eyes, her body trying to find out what he had in store for her.

he got up off the bench and stepped towards her, looking down at her with his hungry blue eyes. “you’re attracted to me.” he just states, keeping her eyes pinned on his.

she blinked up at him and nervously laughed, “what are you talking about?” she tried to brush it off as she looks up at him, trying to fool him with a nervous smile. “are you…are you trying to mess with me leon? it’s not funny.” she releases a shaky breath again.

he chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at her, finding her idea of trying to mask it adorable. he reaches up and tucks some of the loose strands of hair behind her ear. “no, i’m not messing with you. you need my guidance, you need to be taught a lesson. but i’m not doing it unless you want me to.” he says with conviction.

she shivers at his warm touch on her skin, simply innocent but making butterflies and arousal occur to her body. he wouldn’t do it…unless she wanted him too? what could he possibly be talking about? did he mean…?

“are-are you talking about…?” she breathes shakily as she looks up at him, her chest rising and falling fast as she does. “sex?” she whispers and it doesn’t even sound like she’s saying it. the words feel so alien coming out of her mouth.

he nods slowly, tracing his hand that was fixing her hair down to her chin. “if that’s what you want, yes. your attracted to me, i’m attracted to you and we don’t hate each other anymore.” he points these things out as a storm of emotions swirls around in her head. 

he’s attracted to me? to me? the person he hated and glared at for as long as she knew him. she almost couldn’t believe it. but she got over it quickly, realizing that he was offering sex…with him to her so freely and openly.

“those are your only…reasons?” she whispers softly as she looks up into his eyes, blinking steadily as she tries to reconcile and decide within her brain what she wants to do.

“i have plenty of reasons. but those are the only ones you need to know right now. don’t believe me?” he says with a small look of intimidation in his eyes, because why would she believe him considering her history even though they were “friends” now.

she slowly shakes her head, he grabs her hand in a firm grasp like he did when he was showing her how to form a fist. he leads it down to the front of his pants, his half hard cock in his jeans resting underneath her hand. she swallows as she maintains contact with his pant clad erection.

“you see now? you understand? hmm?” he leans into her neck and whispers those words hotly against her skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over; pebbling her skin. arousal finding its way uncomfortably more beneath her leggings.

she nods wordlessly, looking at him as he keeps his head by her neck, he chuckles lowly. “use your words, you know how to talk baby. i know you do.” she can feel his smirk against her skin as he says that.

“yes, i understand.” she says in a soft voice that sounds nothing like her own. she moves her hand from his erection in his pants to his chest, rubbing her hand over his t-shirt, feeling his muscles beneath it.

“good girl. now, i am going to fuck you.” he says in her ear, her hole pulsing at the praise around nothing. she doesn’t even have it in her to care anymore, she’s losing all sense of rational thought at his close proximity.

she hums, feeling his lips ghost over her neck as he dangerously presses a kiss to it her skin, nibbling at it. she finds herself making a small noise that’s trapped in the back of her throat.

she practically melts under his touch, grasping onto his t-shirt. “don’t worry baby. i’ll take care of you. tell me you want it. or should i find out on my own?” he says lowly in almost a predatory growl against her neck. she shivers at his words, only imagining what he could mean by that. “i want it. i want…i want you to fuck me.” she says in a slightly whiny voice.

it’s hard to believe that it’s even her, she feels nothing like herself pressed up against him, his lips nibbling and sucking at her neck, his hands ghosting her waist. she’s not in control anymore like she usually is and it feels nice to hand it over to him, especially like this.

he smirks into her neck again, pulling his lips away from her sweet pale skin. he chuckles lowly, “good. now,” he steps back and looks down at her, looking at her sports bra, “take that off.” she blinks up at him with dreary eyes, she follows his orders though.

not having it in her to say no at this point. she pulls the zipper that’s down the front of it, the material underneath a little sheer. he can see the outline of her hardened nipples barely underneath. she continues to take it off, unclipping it from the front and letting her breasts spill out of it.

goosebumps all along her bare upper half as she feels his lustful glare penetrating her chest. eyeing her breasts with hunger. she lets the useless sports bra slip onto the floor. the cold air kissing her skin.

he reaches out and massages her breasts, “mmm, imagined how they looked. gotta say, i’m not disappointed.” he says with a smirk, he guides her over to the bench, nudging her to lay down, her head resting on the bare wood as he straddles the bench. he grabs her legs lifting them up over his shoulders, each ankle resting on his shoulders.

“mmm,” he leans down and presses his mouth to her chest, taking each nipple into his mouth while massaging the other, tweaking the nipples in his hands. she writhes underneath him, making small noises, her thighs pressed up to her stomach as he leans over her and devours her chest.

she lets it slip once, only once and once it does she regrets it. everything just feels so good and his mouth working on her chest is enough for it to slip out in ecstasy. “daddy…” she moans softly.

her body freezes up a little, waiting for him to recoil, to push her away and make her put her sports bra back on. but instead he looks up from her chest, releasing one of her breasts with a small pop. his gaze even hungrier if that was even possible.

“you gonna let daddy fuck your pussy?” he says in a low rasp as he grasps at her chest again, massaging her breasts again that he had devoured. she doesn’t act shocked that he agreed to the name, she just nods mindlessly.

“good girl.” he says with a small chuckle, leaning back. he lets his hands slide down from her breasts to the hem of her leggings, pulling them down with fervor. he scoots back and pulls them off of her legs, throwing them on the floor by her discarded sports bra of the training room floor.

he gets up from the bench, popping the button on his pants and pulling them down his legs, kicking them off with his shoes, removing hers as well. she looks at his large erection that’s straining in his boxers, a small spot of precum on the top where the tip must be.

she swallows a small noise as she lays her head back down on the bench, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. he looks down at her body, “no underwear? did you know this would happen? or are you just being a naughty little girl?” he says with a mocking tone as he catches her trying to press her thighs together where she lays on the bench.

she looks up at him from where she lays against the bench, she shakes her head. “i’m not naughty. my underwear…they just get ruined too easily, daddy.” he tilts his head with a small smirk, “is that so? are you lying princess?” he says as he straddles the bench again, pulling her by her ankles close to his boxer clad erection.

she shakes her head feverishly as if she could lie to him, he leans over her, lightly smacking her cheek, “your just desperate for my dick baby? is that it? even being near me and your soaking.” he says with a small mocking laugh as she just gazes bleary eyed back at him.

the light tingle of his small smack against her cheek makes her body light up like an electric shock, her hole clenching around nothing. the degrading going deep to her core, everything that he’s saying is just making her painfully more aroused.

her core is practically aching for him at this point. she nods up at him, “yes, daddy.” she says with a small whimper, he smirks and shakes his head, looking down at her glistening pussy.

“mmm, yeah, pretty tits and a pretty pussy. your just a beautiful sight baby.” he says with a small hum. she feels herself whimper softly and become wetter at just his words of praising her body. “your practically leaking on the bench, but don’t worry. i won’t leave you waiting for long.” he says with a small smack to her pussy, making her back arch and release a strangled noise.

“dirty girl.” he says with malice, he gets up again, walking over to the training room door, locking it and making sure no one could even look in here. he then takes his shirt off and walks towards her again, “on all fours baby, do it for daddy.” he says with a small gesture of his hands.

she bites her lips and shakily gets up off of the bench and gets on all fours, he grabs her duffle and puts his t-shirt on it, moving so she can rest her head on it for stability. he crawls behind her on the bench, rubbing the flesh of her ass with his large hands.

“such a pretty ass too, baby. hmmm,” he says in fascination as he lightly skims his fingers over her asshole, making her keel forward a little into his bunched up shirt on her duffle bag. he grabs her hip with one hand, keeping her in place. “nuh-uh, no moving from daddy.” he says with a small groan. he lightly smacks her ass, making her moan softly into the fabric of his t-shirt.

he feels a grin slide onto his face, “you like that? of course you do. your a naughty little girl.” he says and adds another smack to her other cheek. she releases another muffled moan into his t-shirt again.

he chuckles slowly, licking his lips. he leans back and pulls his boxers down, releasing his cock. he sighs in relief, finally able to breathe a little bit. “i’ll give my baby what she wants, even if she’s a naughty little slut.” he says with another smack to her ass, she keels forward again, her stomach arching into the bench.

her hole kept pulsing around nothing again as he said that, going straight to her core. her body still practically aching at this point for his cock. he chuckles and grips his cock in one hand, moving it through her slick folds. he keeps one hand still placed firmly on her hip.

she whimpers into his t-shirt as she feels the head of his cock touch her clit, teasing her. “please, daddy.” her whimpers muffled into the fabric.

he smacks her ass lightly again with his free hand, “shush, princess. you’ll get daddy’s cock in a second. i just need to make sure your ready.” he says with a small chortle again, he rubs his hand soothingly over her lightly red ass cheeks.

he takes his time coating his cock in her arousal, making her squirm and make tiny noises each time he does. “mmm, i think your ready for daddy’s cock baby.” he says with a small smirk, rubbing her ass cheeks, with his firm hands, sliding one hand down to brush the tip of his cock against her wet entrance.

she moaned softly, “yes, daddy.” she managed to get out as he nudged his tip in her entrance. she let out a strangled noise as he stuck the tip in, her fists gripping at the bench.

“just the tip baby and your sucking me in.” he groans as he nudged his cock further into her pussy, stretching her out more. “daddy…” she moaned weakly as she felt some drool slide out of her mouth and onto his t-shirt that her cheek was smushed against.

“i know, i know…just a little more baby. you can take it.” he says with a strangled noise, gritting his teeth as he slides more into her pussy, his length all the way inside of her at this point to the hilt.

“uhh, d-daddy…” she feels her body go slack a little at the fullness of his cock inside of her from behind. she finds it hard to focus on anything else right now, the feeling of his cock inside of her was so delicious and distracting.

“keep moaning for your daddy, wanna hear you princess.” he says with a small groan as he feels her pussy flutter around his cock, he reaches down and grabs at her hair, a fistful of it in his hands as he starts rocking his hips slowly against her, his hips slapping against her ass as he does.

she feels her eyes roll back and flutter shut a little, practically drooling as he yanks her hair up and causing her head to look straight ahead. she moans softly again, adjusting to his length. his hips move a little faster as he keeps her hair in a tight fist.

“so fucking tight, jesus.” he grunts as he keeps moving in and out of her. she moans daddy again at each thrust of his hips. she feels so fucking full and it almost feels like her skin is on fire in the best way possible.

he keeps fucking her, his hips moving faster as he keeps one hand on her hip to guide her hips back in as he thrusts, his other hand tugging at her hair as she moans and whines. “fuck…daddy…mmm, i’m close…” she manages to get out as he keeps thrusting into her, hitting that spot inside of her that made her vision go blurry.

he keeps making small grunts and noises of pleasure, “let go baby, i’ve got you. cum all over daddy’s cock.” she keeps releasing noises at every slap of his hips against her ass. she has his permission and she cums on his cock with a few more thrusts and hitting her sweet spot inside of her.

seeing stars dance in her vision, her body dropping back to his t-shirt, her thighs shaking as she releases and clenches around his cock. he releases her hair, the other hand holding onto her hips, a low groan escaping him as he feels her cum all over his cock.

the feeling of her squeezing around him is addicting and he knows he won’t last much longer. he fucks her through it and chases his own orgasm.

she bites her lips as small tears leak out of her eyes at the overstimulation that he gives her from his cock still moving in and out of her. “shh, it’s okay…baby, i’m close…gonna cum inside your pussy…” he manages to get out in between strangled noises, his hair dampening with sweat slightly.

she cries in a small whine of pleasure as he finally releases inside of her with just a few more thrusts, her pussy milking his cum so he doesn’t spill a drop out of her. she feels her body go slack as she comes down from it all, her chest rising and falling against the bench where she stays bent over.

he rubs a small reassuring hand over the curve of her ass, “you okay? i didn’t hurt you did i?” he says with a small hint of clarity as he slightly pulls out of her. she shakes her head into the fabric of his balled up t-shirt.

“here, here.” he grabs his boxers, climbing off of the bench and pulling them over his legs, he sits down on the bench. “put on the t-shirt, then cmere.” he says in a gentle but firm tone. she shakily moves her limbs and grabs his t-shirt from where it was crumpled up on top of her duffle.

he grabs his sweat rag from his own gym bag, patting his thighs for her to sit on. she adjusts his shirt over her body and moves to sit in his lap, burying her head into his neck and holding onto his bare chest with weak fists. he cleans up the inside of her thighs, over her sensitive folds.

she shivers and tries to move away from it, “shh, it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m just cleaning you up.” he whispers into her hair, pressing a gentle kiss there. she nods slowly, her eyes fluttering shut and relaxing into his lap, he pulls the rag away and puts it in his duffle next to him on the bench.

“was that good?” he says into her hair, looking down at her face with a small crane of his neck. “yeah, it was good.” she smiles softly as she tilts her head up and opens her eyes lazily. he smiles and rubs a hand over her back in a soothing gesture, feeling his heart bloom into a cathartic way he hasn’t felt in years.

“how about i take you out for dinner sometime? hmm? properly treat you.” he says with small squeeze of her hip, she smiles up at him, nodding. “i’d love that.” she says with a small sigh of content.

she held him as he held her in the aftermath of their love making and deep down they both knew that this was the beginning of something new for the both of them. something real, something exciting and full of love.

they couldn’t wait for what the future held in store for them.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

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[vaguely-concerned]

the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)

after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)

the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol

lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Show & Tell (M, cold)

Mark & Matt are back! In this, Matt has an awful cold and they have a busy night. That's pretty much it lol, there's a good amount of ~drama~ because who doesn't love drama? This takes place a couple months after 'Three', when Matt and Mark are dating but haven't told Greyson or Elijah and I'll be honest I've spent a lot of time on it and don't know if I even like it lmao. I hope you guys do, though!! It might suck, who knows!! Also, there's no sick character POV - it switches between Mark and Greyson's POV.

Ok, onward. Let me know how you guys feel about it lol.

CW: Male snz, cold, contagion mention, coughing, fever.

Show & Tell

“It’s not that I don’t want them to know. You know that.”

Mark gave his boyfriend a sidelong look; did he know that? He wasn’t so sure. “Matt,” he said, treading carefully, “it’s been three months. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

Matt sighed, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “I know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I mean, Greyson can be… I don’t know… touchy, I guess, about like, relationship stuff. Especially since the whole… Collin thing. And also, he can just be an asshole about dating within the kitchen. You remember when he caught us kissing.”

“Yeah, but I mean that’s just what you guys do, right? Poke fun at each other? And the Collin thing… That was, like, a year ago, Matt. He’s a grown man.”

There was a pause, then, and Mark knew he’d gone too far. Greyson and Matt’s relationship was way more than boss and employee; Greyson had taken a chance on Matt when no one else would. He’d given him opportunities that Matt couldn’t have dreamed of as a kid, and Matt was always quick to point that out when Mark grumbled about Greyson’s anger, or when he called Matt in on his day off, or the way he made fun of Matt making doe-eyes at Mark. Greyson has been there for me since the moment I met him, he always said. You have to take the good with the bad.

More often than not, Mark found himself rolling his eyes at this statement, or muttering Whatever, babe, under his breath, but he also didn’t want to push his new beau away. If Greyson was a weird non-participatory third in their burgeoning relationship… so be it. He’d put up with it, for Matt.

“Hey, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that; I know, you’re right, he’s been through it.” Mark pulled Matt in for a hug, making the other man soften. “I’m just saying,” Mark said, pulling away, “that if he doesn’t already know, he’s going to have to find out eventually. Right?”

Matt shrugged, then begrudgingly nodded. “You’re right, you’re right, just… I don’t know, give me a week. Let me take him out and actually tell him so it’s not just, like, a big joke that he parades through the kitchen. Okay?”

Mark smiled. “Okay. Yes, that works. Thank you, baby.” He swept Matt’s bangs off his face, allowed a frown to settle over his own. “You feel really warm. By the way.”

Without missing a beat, Matt pulled away and ducked into the sleeve of his hoodie. “Hh-! Hh’ITSZH-ue!”

“Bless you.”

“I’m okay,” Matt said in response. “Like I said before, I think it’s just allergies.”

“...Fever-inducing allergies?”

“Honey,” Matt said, pulling a hand down his face, “please drop it. We have like two hundred on the books tonight, it’s not like I could call out or anything.”

“So you feel badly enough to call out?” Mark asked, crossing his arms. Matt sighed, loudly enough for Mark to hear the congestion in his chest rattle.

“No,” Matt said. “I don’t.”

“Mmm.”

“Can we go back to arguing about me telling Greyson and Elijah we’re dating? I’d prefer that over getting the third degree about what is, at most, a cold,” Matt said, rubbing his nose on his sleeve. Mark raised an eyebrow.

“So now it’s a cold. Moments ago, you said it was allergies. What’s it going to be by the time you get to work? Bubonic plague?”

“I was thinking something a little more modern. Maybe scarlet fever. Hh- hh’ISHHH-uhh!” Matt crumpled to the side once again, and Mark sighed.

“Hilarious,” he said, deadpan. “You should take some dayquil, or something.”

“I’m okay, honey, really,” Matt said, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you this evening, okay?”

Mark hesitated; what would a good boyfriend do here? He assumed a good boyfriend would scoop Matt into his arms and place him in bed. A good boyfriend would call in for Matt – hell, call in for both of them so he could take care of his boyfriend – and tell Greyson and Elijah to figure it out, restaurant-be-damned. He’d spoon-feed Matt soup and they’d watch Criminal Minds and talk about who on the show was the most objectively fuckable and they’d fall asleep early and in the morning, Matt would be good as new.

But a good boyfriend would also tell their bosses they were dating; a good boyfriend wouldn’t put the onus on Matt to tell Greyson before Mark told Elijah because Greyson was an objectively harder person to tell. A good boyfriend wouldn’t give Matt shit for being nervous because him telling Greyson was akin to Mark telling his own father he was gay and fuck, Matt didn’t even have a father to tell, you asshole, you inconsiderate piece of shit.

He wasn’t a good boyfriend, that much he knew. So instead of manning up in any way whatsoever, Mark nodded and kissed Matt on his hot forehead. “See you tonight,” he said, and continued to kick himself as Matt trudged out the front door.

***

“They’ll tell us when they’re ready.”

Greyson rolled his eyes so hard that they felt like they might pop out of his head. “Oh c’mon, Lij, that’s such a cop-out,” he said, snapping inventory papers onto a clipboard and clicking a pen open and shut many more times than was necessary. “It’s been, what? Like almost four months since the whole making-out-in-my-bathroom incident? And it’s not like they’re good at hiding it, I think Matt slaps Mark’s ass fifty times a day.”

“Is that really new, though? You slap Matt’s ass fifty times a day,” Elijah said, glancing up from his own, much-better-organized inventory clipboard. “I thought ass-slapping was just par for the course in this kitchen. You’ve created a culture of ass-slapping.”

“That’s within the kitchen boundary, Lij,” Greyson said, his index finger and thumb pressed together and punctuating each word of this statement. “Mark is outside the kitchen boundary. The rules are different.”

Elijah snorted out a laugh. “My mistake,” he said, flipping the first page on his clipboard and examining the second. “I figured that culture extended to the whole restaurant.”

“Damn right your mistake,” Greyson muttered. He glanced back down at his papers, then tossed the clipboard on the desk and snatched Elijah’s out of his hand to toss as well.

“Dude,” Elijah said, “I was using that.”

“Do you think Matt’s scared to tell me?” Greyson asked, ignoring Elijah’s annoyance. “It’s not like I’d care. I mean, the whole thing makes sense, they spend seventy hours a week here together. It’s not like it’s easy to find someone to date outside this place, and trust me, it’s not like he’s missing out on anything in the regular world. Shit, if you were down, I’d start dating you.”

“I’d rather eat a jean jacket than date you,” Elijah said, leaning on an elbow on the desk. “And that’s not even because you don’t have my preferred equipment, it’s because of who you are. Fundamentally. As a person.”

“I just don’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell me,” Greyson said, ignoring Elijah’s statement outright. “Matt’s my dude. He’s my muse. He’s like if I had a kid, but didn’t have to do the gross horrible raising him part. He knows he can tell me anything.”

Elijah sighed, a heavy and resigned sound, and took the bait. “Grey,” he said, “yes, he knows he can tell you anything, but he also knows he’s going to get so much shit from you when he does tell you. I’m sure he’s just trying to spare himself the three weeks of jokes about the two of them dating. Maybe, if you could be serious for five fuckin’ minutes, you could approach him and ask him, hey, are you and Mark dating?” Elijah shrugged, both hands held in front of him as though to say just an idea.

Greyson scoffed, annoyed. “You’re one to talk. It’s not like Mark has told you.”

“Yeah, but Mark and I are coworkers. We don’t have some weird father/son codependent relationship like you two. Plus, Mark is only a talker when he drinks and he hasn’t had more than a glass of wine in front of me since they got together, so he knows I know he’s avoiding the conversation.” Elijah gave Greyson a pointed look then. “I’m sure he’s waiting for Matt to tell you. Dad.”

The chef rolled his eyes again and pushed himself to a standing position. “Fine,” he said. “I’m going to talk to him about it today. And I’ll be serious.”

“Great,” Elijah said, picking his clipboard back up. “I’m happy for both of you.”

Greyson placed a hand on Elijah’s shoulder as he walked out of the office and towards the prep kitchen, a gesture to thank him for the pep talk, and Elijah nodded in understanding. It wasn’t the fact that Matt had a not-so-well-kept secret that Greyson found troubling; it was the fact that he felt like he wasn’t able to tell his boss that hurt Greyson’s feelings. The chef got set up in the prep kitchen, pulled out his chef’s knife, and began sharpening it on his steel. He really thought he’d put it in Matt’s head that he could tell him anything. Apparently he’d been wrong.

As if summoned, Matt picked that exact moment to blow through the back kitchen doors – he was wearing a sweatshirt, despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm, and his hood was up. Greyson drew his eyebrows together, confused.

“Mornin’, sunshine,” Greyson called from his prep station. Matt swung around, obviously not expecting to see his boss the moment he walked in, and his face immediately crumpled.

“Hh- hhNGTSHZ-ue!” Matt attempted to stifle a sneeze into his elbow, which backfired immediately. “ITSZZHH-ue! Hh’ITZCHH-ue! HRRSHH-ue!”

Greyson blinked, surprised, as his sous gave into the paroxysm. “Wow,” he said when Matt finally stood upright, clearing his throat. “Bless.”

Matt nodded, swallowed, winced. “Yeah. Thangks,” he said, his voice low and congested. He walked towards the prep station – slunk may have been the more appropriate word – and hoisted his knife bag onto the counter. The next few moves seemed robotic, as though the sous chef were on autopilot; push hoodie off head. Roll up sleeves. Unzip bag. Make eye contact with boss. “What ndeeds to get prepped first?”

Up close, Matt looked like an even bigger pile of hot garbage than he sounded; he was pale – sallow, Greyson thought to himself, then vocab word of the day -, his eyes red-rimmed and laden with bags. His breathing seemed painful, labored, and uneven, and before Greyson could say anything, Matt turned back to his rolled-up sleeve to cough. “Dude,” Greyson said, taking a step back.

“Sorry, sorry,” Matt muttered, getting himself together. He walked to the sink and washed his hands, then turned back to Greyson. “Better?”

“That wasn’t what I meant by ‘dude’,” Greyson said, taking a step towards his sous and slapping a hand on his forehead. “That was ‘dude’ as in ‘dude, you look like fucking shit’.”

Matt wiggled out from under Greyson’s hand, annoyed. “I’mb fine, Chef,” he said. “Tell mbe what needs to get done.”

Greyson rubbed his face and gathered his hair on top of his head, buying time. Obviously, the conversation about him and Mark was off the table for the moment, but were they not allowed to talk about Matt’s very obvious illness, either? “Did you take anything?” Greyson asked, ignoring his sous’ question with one of his own.

“I was running late. Also, I don’t ndeed anythi- ITTTSZZHH-ue! HRSHHH-uh!” Matt folded himself in half to avoid sneezing in Greyson’s face, and collapsed into a coughing fit from the force of them. Greyson pressed his lips together.

“Where’d you pick this shit up?” Greyson asked, patting Matt’s back as the younger man tried to compose himself. “You haven’t been out on the prowl with me in months, so I take no blame.”

It was an attempt – a very obvious one – to get Matt to admit he was at least seeing someone, but either Matt wasn’t taking the bait or he didn’t hear him over his own misery. He cleared his throat and stood to his full height. “Can we please just start cooking? I ndeed a distraction.”

Greyson pressed his lips together; somehow, they’d had a whole conversation without really saying anything, a whole back-and-forth with not one question answered. “Okay,” Greyson said, stepping to the side to let Matt get situated at the prep table. “I’m going to grab some shit from the walk-in. You get set up.”

Matt nodded, obviously grateful, and started setting up his things while Greyson turned towards the walk-in.

Well, he thought to himself, sarcastically. That was productive.

***

“Alright, everyone, so we have 245 on the books toni -”

“HhuhhhITSZHHH-ue! Huh-! HhhRRSHH-oo!”

The servers’ heads popped up from their notes in unison and turned towards the closed kitchen doors, ten yards away. Mark cringed; Elijah raised his eyebrows towards Greyson, and the Executive Chef sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go check and make sure he didn’t burst a blood vessel,” he joked, prompting a collective giggle from the servers. Mark felt his heart sink deep into the pit of his stomach.

At his apartment this morning, Matt had clearly been coming down with something. Since he’d arrived at work, it was clear that whatever it was had settled in nicely; Mark had only been at work for two hours, but in those he’d heard Matt sneeze more than he had the entirety of their relationship.

“Jesus,” Mark had said when he first saw Matt, doubled over behind the prep table. “That really went from zero to a hundred. I just saw you, like, four hours ago.”

Matt had attempted to clear his throat before addressing his boyfriend: “Yeah, I guess,” he said, pushing the sleeves of his hoodie down to his wrists and shivering. Mark wanted desperately to tell him to go lay down in a booth or something – better yet, to tell him to go home and go to bed – but he knew he couldn’t do either.

“Can I get you some tea?” he asked instead, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from feeling Matt’s face for fever. Matt shook his head.

“’M fine,” he managed, picking his knife back up and wiping his hands on the front of his apron. “’S just a stupid cold.”

That had been about as far as their conversation had gone; Mark had been whisked away by Elijah to help set the floor up, and Matt had been forced to put his head back down and continue prepping. Normally, Matt would’ve been in pre-shift with the rest of the team, but Greyson had explained when everyone sat down that he was attempting to gain his second wind in the office and wouldn’t be joining.

“Anyway,” Mark continued, addressing the servers while Greyson stood to check on Matt, “like I said: 245 on the books. We do have a few VIPs…”

The servers jotted down what they needed to, and Mark finished his speech on autopilot. Elijah said something about uniforms being cleaned and pressed, and Greyson came back to join them all after a minute or two spent in the kitchen. When pre-shift ended, Greyson stopped Mark from walking away with the rest of the front of house.

“Mark,” Greyson said as the servers went to eat family meal, “hold back a second.”

Mark could feel himself immediately break into a cold sweat; Greyson never wanted to talk to him after pre-shift. Had he fucked up somehow? He knew they were too busy – overbooked, really – but Elijah had approved it. Said they needed the extra covers, since they’d be closed for a week next month. Maybe Elijah hadn’t told Greyson he’d approved the overbooking? Maybe -

“Hey, I just – I wanted to talk to you about Matt,” Greyson said when the servers had all exited to the kitchen. Mark swallowed, his throat dry. Oh.

“What about him?” Mark asked, his heart beating in his temples. Greyson huffed out a little laugh.

“You guys are dating,” he said – not a question. A statement. Mark’s face flamed.

“Did he – have you guys talked?” he asked, feeling his throat close. Greyson shook his head, a smile blooming on his face.

“Nope,” he said, palming Mark’s shoulder. “But now we don’t need to. Elijah!” he called into the kitchen, and Mark felt himself fly into action. He stumbled in front of Greyson before the chef could walk through the kitchen doors.

“Chef,” he said, holding his arms out so Greyson couldn’t get by, “you can’t tell Matt that you know. Seriously, he’ll kill me, he – I mean, he wanted to tell you himself, he said he was going to, like, sit you down and tell you and -”

“Sit me down? He’s not breaking up with me to be with you, I’m so fuckin’ confused why you guys haven’t just told us, it’s not like it’s a big deal -”

“It’s a big deal to him,” Mark said, cutting Greyson off. “It’s a big deal to Matt. I think – fuck, I don’t know, Chef, I think it’s like… you’re his person he gets to tell. You know? And he’s not feeling well and we kind of argued about it this morning and… please,” Mark said, biting his cheek to keep from crying. “Please, Chef. Just… he’ll tell you. Just wait for him to tell you.”

Greyson closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine. Okay. I’ll wait till the end of the week,” he said, moving Mark’s arm to get into the kitchen. “But if he hasn’t said anything by then, I’m saying something.”

Mark just nodded, and let Greyson by. You fucking moron, he chided himself. You absolute asshole. You gave it away, Matt is going to be so fucking disappointed, you’re such a dick, you can’t even let him have this one fucking thing. You just have to fuck everything up somehow. What the fuck is wrong with you?

What the FUCK is wrong with you?

***

Greyson would have been hard-pressed to think of a more difficult service than this one was turning out to be.

It had started fine; the flow of the evening was laid out well, the first turn went off basically without a hitch. Matt was on middle, and had loaded up on every medicine the office pharmacy had to offer, so while he was a little… high, honestly, he was at least in good spirits and able to do his job.

“We doing okay back there, everyone?” Greyson asked, peeking past the board filled with tickets to acknowledge his cooks, and Matt.

“Yes, Chef,” they answered – all except Matt, who hooted as though Greyson was a singer asking his audience how everyone was feeling out there. Greyson bit his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Only two hundred covers to go!” Greyson shouted as the printer spat out yet another ticket. “Order in, two salmon, three pork.”

About sixty covers in, things began to turn; the servers began to slow down, sending their food in as fire-alls instead of coursed out. The bar became backed up, so Mark was taking bartop guest’s orders and ringing them all in at once, sending a huge wave of tickets in at once – annoying, sure, but something they could handle. But then, tickets stopped coming in altogether – first, for five minutes. Then seven. Then ten.

“Elijah!” Greyson called into the dining room, not caring if the guests heard. The GM ran in at the sound of his name. “The fuck is going on, dude? We have ZERO tickets on the board.”

Elijah winced. “Yeah,” he said, “everyone is camping. We have like thirty people waiting to sit.” Greyson blinked.

“You’re kidding.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.”

“So you’re telling me, at least thirty people are going to sit down all at once. And order all at once.”

Elijah nodded, solemn. “I wish I wasn’t, but yes, Chef, that’s what I’m telling you.”

Of course, by the time the first set of guests got up and the second set sat down, they had a new problem: Matt.

It was seven o’clock; Matt had taken his last dose of medicine at four, and sitting around waiting on tickets to come rolling in again had stopped the flow of adrenaline. His misery seemed to have caught up with him completely just as the tickets started printing again.

“Order in,” Greyson called for the tenth time in three minutes, “a scallop, three filets, and a venison no dairy.”

“Heard, Che – HTSHH-uh!” Matt wrenched to the side to sneeze into the sleeve of his chef’s coat, an angry, grating sound that made the cooks wince. He coughed painfully into his shoulder, obviously trying to hold back. Greyson bit his cheek.

“Bless, Chef,” he called over the line, pulling yet another stream of tickets. “Christ… ok, guys, I’m going to read all these but let’s just focus on what I just called for now, these people… I mean, they’re going to have to wait.”

“Yes, Chef,” the cooks called – all except Matt. Instead of the goofy whoops from earlier in the evening, Matt responded by ducking beneath the line.

“HRRSHH! Huh-! Hh’ITZZHH-uh! NGTSHZZH-ue! Hh… hhhuh-ITZSHH-ue!” Matt covered his head with his arms, careful not to spray them, and sneezed into his lap until he sounded hoarse. Greyson could hear him attempt to sniffle, to no avail. He stood, shakily, and cleared his throat. “Heard, Chef,” he whispered, his voice hanging on by a thread.

Greyson pressed his lips together, feeling the temperature of his blood raising. God, this fucking kid – he should’ve stayed home, what good was it doing anyone having him here, sneezing himself hoarse, coughing til he was dizzy, probably infecting all the cooks and most likely over or under cooking all the fish. Greyson wanted to snap, Pull it together, but held back.

“Bless, Chef,” he called again, pointedly. Matt just nodded, dazed.

“Go ahead and call the ndext tickets, Chef,” Matt croaked. Greyson sighed, looked up, and yanked the tickets off the printer.

“Order in,” he said again, and again, and again.

***

The dining room was a fucking disaster.

Mark’s head felt like it was screwed on backwards; he could feel himself failing, and with every misstep he hated himself more. Can’t you put the tickets in right? Tracy asked you to help take the order for 32, have you gotten over there? This bar is filled with drinks, the hell are you doing?

If the dining room wasn’t bad enough, in the kitchen Greyson was clearly about to be sent straight over the edge.

“I need runners!” he called from expo, loud enough for everyone in the dining room to hear. Mark cringed, dropped what he was doing, and ran into the kitchen. The printer wouldn’t stop; the window was filled with plates, and the servers were tripping over themselves to get the food onto trays and out into the dining room.

“Mark! Take these, table 24,” Greyson said, pressing three scorching-hot plates into the floor manager’s hands. “And come right back, this fucking food is going to go bad in about three seconds. Order in!”

Mark took the food, dropped it, assessed the red marks on his hands and wrists and headed back to the kitchen. All of this would’ve been par for the course for a Saturday night, really, if not for -

“HTTSHH! HRRRSHH-uh! Hh’NGTTSZHH-ue!”

Matt.

The whole staff could tell he was fading fast. It was eight-thirty, and since about seven he hadn’t managed to go more than a couple minutes without collapsing into a fit of sneezes or coughs. His voice was completely gone at this point, and Mark could tell – even from ten feet away – that he had a pretty significant fever. All of this seemed to just further enrage Greyson.

“Chef,” Greyson called behind the line. “Get your third wind, I’m fucking dying up here I need this food out now! Order in, three salmon, two filets!”

“Yes, Chef,” Matt called, his voice so mangled Mark wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to get the words out. God, this was bad. This was so fucking bad.

***

There was no way they were going to get through all these tickets. There was just no fucking way.

It all felt like a nightmare at this point; Greyson was up to his elbows in tickets that just kept flowing. The food was dying in the windows, servers were grabbing shit that wasn’t theirs and fucking up what little flow they had going. Elijah was pouring free wine because ticket times were over forty minutes. And Matt was completely and totally stick-a-fork-in-him done.

At nine-fifteen, with twenty tickets on the board, Greyson looked up to ask his sous if table 55 was going to be up anytime soon; only to see Matt, caught in pre-sneeze torture with a knife in his right hand, moments away from splitting his left hand open.

“Matt!” Greyson screamed, and the sous chef snapped out of his daze and dropped the knife onto the cutting board. He gasped at the realization that he’d been millimeters away from maiming himself.

Enough is enough, Greyson thought to himself. “Mark!” he called into the dining room, not caring who could hear him. “Come and get your biohazard boyfriend and take him fucking home!”

The kitchen went completely silent. Matt blinked, clearly trying to unpack what he’d just heard, before wrenching to the side. “HHHITSZZHH-ue!”

Mark and Elijah burst into the kitchen then; tickets lined the board. Food lined the window. Matt was crouched down behind the line, and Greyson’s eyes were wild.

“Take him home,” Greyson said, making eye contact with Mark. “Or to urgent care. Or maybe straight to the cemetery. I don’t care where he goes, but he needs to get off my line.”

Mark nodded, and stepped behind the line to gather Matt, who slumped into his boyfriend’s arms. Greyson watched Mark hold Matt close, felt his chest contract when he heard his sous chef whisper, “Baby, I don’t feel good,” into his boyfriend’s chest.

“Go,” Greyson insisted. Mark helped Matt off the line, lead him into the office and pulled his hoodie over his chef’s coat, and walked him towards the back exit. Thank you, Mark mouthed to Greyson, who just nodded in response.

Once they were through the back doors, Elijah stepped forward. “Get back there and help them,” he said. “I’ll do expo. We’ll get through it.”

“We always do,” Greyson muttered, and pushed past his cooks to get to the middle of the line. “Alright: let’s land this fuckin’ bitch of a night in the harbor.”

***

The quiet calm of Matt’s apartment was in such direct opposition to the prior evening at work that Mark felt he might actually have whiplash.

The floor manager checked his phone for the tenth time since he’d woken up twenty minutes before. Elijah, via text, had filled him in about what happened after he and Matt left; it had been a shit show, but they’d gotten it done. There had been worse nights, Elijah said, though Mark couldn’t remember one. His boss let him know that he’d closed the restaurant for the day, to give everyone a well-deserved break. Thank God.

Greyson had texted both Mark and Matt apologizing for outing their relationship, and told Matt he could take as much time off as he needed – not that Matt had seen it yet. The sous chef had passed out the second his head hit the pillow the night previous, and he hadn’t stirred in over twelve hours.

Mark had responded to Greyson; it’s all good, Chef, though he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. He was glad that Greyson had told Mark to step up, to get Matt out and take care of him. But Matt… fuck, he was going to be upset when he woke up.

Speaking of which.

“Has anyone ever told you you text really loud?” Matt croaked quietly over Mark’s shoulder. Mark slammed his phone onto the bed and rolled over to face his boyfriend.

“No, I don’t think I’ve gotten that one before,” Mark said, caressing Matt’s face. Matt smiled, a little sadly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Mmm. Like hot fuckigg garbage,” Matt whispered, closing his eyes. “Tired. Shitty. Fuckigg embarrassed.”

Mark pressed his lips together; he wasn’t sure what to say. He settled on: “Can I make you some tea?”

Matt huffed out a little laugh that turned into a nasty-sounding cough. “In a mbinute,” he said, “I just wandt to lay with you for now.”

So they did. A silence fell over the two of them – Mark stroking Matt’s hot face, Matt with his eyes closed. After a few minutes, Matt opened his red, rheumy eyes. “So, he kndows.”

Mark felt his heart sink. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess he does.”

Silence surrounded them again. “I guess I should’ve kndown,” Matt said.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said. Matt smiled a little.

“You were right,” he teased. “You’re always right.”

“I’m rarely right,” Mark corrected. “But I think we made it pretty obvious.”

“Mmm,” Matt hummed again. A beat went by where neither of them said anything, until Matt’s body took over. “HHRSSHH-uhhh!” he sneezed, exhausted, into his hand and wiped it on the comforter. Mark couldn’t help but laugh.

“Bless you,” he said. Matt smiled, eyes closed.

“You’re gonna get so sigck,” he muttered, on the edge of sleep again already.

“Yeah,” Mark said, pressing a soft kiss onto his boyfriend’s lips. “That sounds accurate.”

Matt opened his eyes, slowly. “You kndow I love you. Right?”

A firework lodged itself into Mark’s aorta, blew his heart right to bits. “Really?” he asked, the wrong answer, but his first reaction all the same. Matt laughed in earnest.

“Really,” he said, closing his eyes again.

“I love you, Matt. God, I love you,” Mark said, kissing Matt’s lips again. “I’m sorry about last night. I love you. Thank you. I love you.”

Matt opened one eye this time, touched Mark’s face, and closed it again. “Thangk you,” he murmured. “’M gonna go back to sleep ndow. If that’s cool with you.”

“Go to sleep, baby,” Mark said, his heart so full he was sure it would burst. “I love you.”

And even though Matt was already snoring by the time he had said it again, he couldn’t seem to stop muttering it in time with his boyfriend’s snores. I love you. I love you. I love you.

[spicyllewyn]

Kinktober 5. - Pregnant / lactation.

Will Dempsey x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Pregnancy + lactation. (+18)

As you all know I hate Will for no real reason, this is my peace offering to a fictional character, lol.

Word count. 2K

Summary. You love babying him.

Kinktober masterlist.

Pregnancy was becoming unbearable at times; you felt heavy, your feet ached even after just a few steps around the house, and sleeping at night was turning into a daily battle. Fortunately, there was no doubt in your mind that you had chosen the right life partner.

The only thing keeping you sane right now was Will and how he went out of his way to make you happy and make this whole thing more bearable.

You always joked with him, saying that anyway, all of this was his fault, so the least he could do for you was to fulfill your cravings and massage your shoulders until you fell asleep.

Oh, and that pillow with a hole in the center that allowed you to lie face down.

"I miss my pillow," you murmured in a low tone as you remembered it. You closed the door behind you slowly.

Will's room was just as he had left it several years ago when he left home for college, where he met you. Nonetheless, you wandered around with curiosity, looking at his movie posters that perhaps only he had seen, and the occasional Lego figure that you doubted he would let his future child touch someday.

"I told you we could come up with some excuse."

"Every time you suggest we make up an excuse, it has to do with pretending that one of us died," you rolled your eyes. "Your parents are not believing it for more than two times in a row." When you had 4 walls around you for privacy, your hands went to the hem of your shirt, getting rid of it, clearly tired of wearing any type of clothing.

Will watched you from the bed, as if you were giving him a personal show. His eyes roaming over your bare skin, always lingering a few extra seconds on your breasts before looking up again and pretending that the lack of sex wasn't killing him.

You were both too introverted to simply ask at gynecologist appointments, “Hey, is it wise to have uncontrolled sex against some furniture at this point in pregnancy?” so you just assumed the answer was no.

“Did you do something to your hair?”

You frowned at his question.

"What?"

“I'm serious, I notice something different about you.”

One of his pillows landed right in his face, making him laugh. You already knew that joke too well.

“Yes, idiot, I'm pregnant.” The mattress squeaked as you lay down, only wearing your loose pants and the sports bra that had become your best friend a few days ago because it turns out that your normal bras decided they didn't want to close anymore eventually.

That was the only piece of fabric that kept your tits in place, tight and comfortable. It was also a headache for Will.

The changes that pregnancy had made in your body never ceased to amaze him even though he had analyzed each one for hours as the months passed. There was the obvious, that completely new sparkle in your eyes, your cheeks flushed 24/7 and your skin seemed to be glowing more than ever.

But on the other hand there were the things that made him fantasize about the nights he stayed on the couch fucking his own hand to try to control the impulses that attacked him more times than he would like lately. Your hips became wider, your thighs were softer but oh, his favorite part was definitely your breasts.

Round, full, hard, delicious.

You were complaining about pain recently and he didn't know if that was a sign that he should help you in some way or just not touch you and wait patiently for the pain to go away in a few weeks when the baby was born.

“Did you know…” He murmured, taking his eyes off his phone for a few seconds to look at you. You did the same.

Lying together to chat or just watch stupid videos on your phones had become routine when the pain in your back kept you from sleeping or when you took too many naps throughout the day and all your energy was reserved for the night.

Yes, Will stayed up with you each and every one of those times.

"Did I know what?"

“Did you know that there are freaks who like milk?”

You frowned.

“I like milk, what's so strange about it?”

He rolled his eyes with a small smile.

“Breast milk, I mean.”

“Oh…” Needless to say, you already knew that the father of your future baby was… peculiar. He had perfectly mastered the act of bringing up the strangest topics of conversation lately. You shrugged. “It doesn't seem that strange to me.”

"No?" If your gaze hadn't returned to your phone you would have noticed the mischievous glint on his eyes.

You had taken the bait.

“No, I mean.” There you went, to reason with the madman, always engrossed in his midnight talks. “You used to suck on my boobs all the time, do you mean you wouldn't do it anymore if there was milk involved? Not to mention that you are addicted to eating me out, it wouldn't be the first time you drink some liquid from my body.”

“Mhm.” He pretended to consider your response before nodding slowly, agreeing with you. The truth is that Will had considered the possibility since he had noticed the circular stains that suddenly began to appear on your shirts. “You have a point.”

"See?" You felt triumphant to think that you had changed his way of thinking. Your gaze returned to your phone and you took the topic for granted.

“Though I don't understand how anyone could be sexually attracted to that.”

You looked up again.

“Are you kidding?”

“Of course not, don't you think it's strange?”

You rolled your eyes, finally lowering your phone and placing it on the cabinet next to you so you could face him.

"Do you want to try?"

"What?" He played dumb and you fell into his trap again.

"Do you want to try? I will show you that there is nothing strange about it.”

He again pretended to consider your proposal and with his lower lip trapped between his teeth he nodded slowly.

"Good." He also put his phone aside, sitting up in bed as if considering which position was best to settle into. His pupils dilated when he saw you take off your top.

He had been trying for a long time not to stare at your completely naked breasts or else we wasn't going to be able to control himself anymore. Your nipples were always hard, occasionally with a drop or two of milk running through them, so sensitive and delicious.

You looked at him, clearing your throat to get his attention.

"Take off your shirt." Your voice sounded like an order.

He obediently did so. His tanned skin making your mouth water and making your cheeks blush even more than usual. You were a hormonal mess a long time ago.

“How should I…?”

“Just lay your head here.” You pointed to the hill where your pregnant belly began, just below your breasts.

“But, I don't want to hurt-”

“You're not going to hurt me, Will.” Your voice came out in frustration as you gave two small taps to the area you had pointed out before. He hesitated a little before taking his place there, the weight of his head and part of his body was not uncomfortable, on the contrary, his body heat felt stupidly good.

Skin to skin contact was something you wouldn't trade for a million dollars.

“You look so pretty like this.” You whispered in a low, loving voice. A dopey smile on your face when you had the chance to see him from a completely new angle.

His huge eyes were fixed on you, he had to look up so he could fix his gaze on you while you looked down. Your fingers gently ran through his hair, a while ago you had noticed that his curls became more noticeable when his hair was a little longer than usual.

“Go on.” You cooed while he licked his lips.

You didn't have to ask twice, Will settled into his spot and took part of your breast into his mouth, pressing his tongue against your hard, sensitive nipple.

A shiver ran down your spine, resulting in a wave of pleasure directly between your legs. A delicious heat pooling on your lower abdomen.

He for his part moaned against your skin. You tasted so sweet.

“T-That's it.” You encouraged him with blushing cheeks. “Just like that, baby.”

It didn't take him long to pick up the pace he wanted, you could hear him gulp and suck, over and over again while your trembling hands ran through his hair slowly, comforting him.

You knew how much he was enjoying it when you saw him close his eyes. A couple of drops running down the edge of his lips.

“You taste so fucking good.” It was the only thing he stammered before going back to his job. He rested the weight of his body on you a little more and you didn't complain, you missed having him on you so much, caging you against any surface that he found and his body.

He raised a hand, his fingers squeezing your breast as if he wanted to squeeze out every last drop. His cock twitched under his baggy pants and you at the same time squeezed your legs together, your slick already making your underwear wet and sticky.

“Do you like it, baby?” Your voice was breathy.

It was incredible how your bodies began to react as if you were a pair of desperate teenagers, seeking relief in any friction you might have with each other.

“Help me with t-the other one, yeah? Please?" You begged when you could finally feel some kind of relief on your tit, it was no longer hard and swollen. All this time you had only needed this? If you had known before.

He looked up with dilated pupils, licking his lips with heavy breathing.

"Please." You whispered once more, your fingers giving his hair a light tug that snapped him out of the spell you seemed to have placed on him with just a few gulps of warm milk.

You gave him a push with your hand and he obeyed, tracing exactly four circles around your right nipple before leaning down again and taking it into his mouth. Now that he was almost face down to reach the other side his hips began a slow rocking motion against the bed.

You, meanwhile, squeezed your legs together, your soft thighs giving you a bit of relief that made you whimper.

“Such a good boy.” You closed your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly, finding it impossible to calm the rhythm of your breathing. Eventually you understood that it wasn't just the sensitivity of your body, it was the situation.

Your sweet voice praising him, listening to the way he swallowed and the way he whimpered desperately just from the pleasure that sucking on your tit gave him.

You were no longer hiding the clumsy movements of your hips, nor was he the way he pretended to be fucking the mattress. His sensitive cock throbing every time he rubbed against his favorite blanket.

The friction was giving delicious warmth to his needy erection and your milk was doing the same to his entire body. Warm and delicious running through his throat.

Your thrusts were making the mattress creak under your bodies although you didn't last more than a couple of seconds longer. Abstinence was your best excuse to explain why something like this had led you to have one of the most delicious orgasms of your entire relationship.

It was definitely not what you had done per se, right?

When he pushed himself up so he could kiss you you could taste the milk and his saliva combined. You understood well why the taste had driven him crazy.

“See?” You whispered against his lips. “Not weird at all.”

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[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 13]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Light Alcohol, Attempted Kidnapping, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 8.8K

(13/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: IT'S FINALLY DONEEEE this is crazy how many chapters have I updated this year? LMFAO Not fully proofread by my awakened mind yet but I did run it through grammarly lol I'll give it a proper look later

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2012

Things were different. Lonelier. And maybe a bit sadder. You stood in front of the room that now loomed over you, and you took a deep breath to steady your nerves. You opened it, the door slamming against the wall with a loud bang, and you waited, you waited for the usual ‘Get out of my room!’ But none came. And there hasn’t been one for months now. You walked inside, still a mess and untouched as it was the night before he left, and you sat in the middle of it, hugging your legs close to your chest.

“There’s another party downstairs,” you said out loud. “I was thinking I should go for a walk, should I?” You wondered aloud. No answer. No 'Wait for me,' no 'ask Dick to go with you.' Just silence. You just wanted a quiet place to escape the noise, what with the gala going on downstairs and your father acting in front of the masses, you just didn’t feel up to it. Besides, Dick wasn’t even there to keep you company this time. You sat in the silence for a while, looking around the room as if he was hiding somewhere and was about to jump out to scare you. But no surprises came. Instead, you got up, took one of the dusty books from the shelf, and left the room.

“Oh, hey!” A younger boy stood in front of you, he looked vaguely familiar. “Could I ask you a quick question?” 

“Yeah, the party’s just downstairs, walk down the corridor and you’ll hit the ballroom eventually,” you answered.

“No, it’s something else,” he shakes his head.

“Ah, the bathroom is also downstairs right next to the ballroom,” you cut him off and turned to walk into your room.

“(Y/N) Wayne. I know who your father is, we need to talk.” That got your attention. You stopped with your hand on the doorknob and sighed.

“Right, he’s a businessman, nothing else,” you nodded. But the boy’s face remained grim. “Let’s go somewhere private,” you nudged your head further down the hall and he followed. Once you were both situated in a secluded part of the mansion, he spoke up.

“I’m Tim Drake,” he introduces himself. You shook his hand. Tim Drake, a couple years your junior, you've seen him around in your family's galas before but you've never really talked to him, you were always more preoccupied with your brothers or too busy taking pictures to go up to the boy who tended to stay on the sidelines more.

“I know.” Now you remembered him, he’d gone to a few of your father’s galas before.

“Oh, cool, I was worried for a second, we didn’t usually talk much,” he says, “you were always with two older guys.”

“My brothers.”

“I know that,” Tim shrugs. “I tracked you down because I had a favor to ask you,” he says.

“Sure,” you agreed only as a formality. The Waynes and the Drakes were somewhat of friends. Tim glanced around.

“Batman needs a Robin,” he says quietly. You wondered how he figured it out. There was no point in hiding anything either, he must have been really smart to have figured out your identities, even people who worked right next to your dad couldn’t have deduced it. “Don’t try to deny it, I have pictures,” he says. You shook your head.

“If you’re asking me then that means that Dick said no, huh?”

“Right away,” Tim mutters.

“I can’t give you an answer,” you told him. But Tim’s eyes seemed to shine, as if he’d found a treasure he’d been looking for. Why he was so desperate, you didn’t know. “Well, either way, you figured them out, I’m sure you can think of something too just in case,” you replied bluntly. 

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he says. “Even just thinking about it is enough.”

“Why do you feel like you should do this, though?” You asked him.

“I…” Tim hesitated. “I’m sure you know as well as I do the kind of rampage Batman has been on in the city.” You were. Recently, you were certain, that your father and the one behind the mask are two different people now.

“And you think having a Robin would help him?” You muttered. 

“Yes, I do, and who better than his own daughter?” He asks. You looked away and toward your clasped hands.

“You may be asking the wrong person, Tim, I have no qualifications to be a Robin,” you say.

“Better you than none,” Tim insists.

“I could never do what they did,” you shut your eyes. “The Batman... he scares me,” you mumbled, clutching onto the book in your arms a little tighter now.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. You held your hand up to stop him. 

“I’m sorry too, Tim, this isn’t a good time,” you shook your head, stood up, and you left. You admired Tim’s good intentions, truly, but they paled in comparison to the thoughts that ran rampant in your mind right now. You just lost a brother. Your father didn’t want to listen to you. Your other brother was nowhere to be found, and that left you to mull all this over. 

You felt lost.

Lost in your thoughts, and all alone. This was the first time, the first in a long time, where you once again felt alienated in this manor. Not a vigilante and barely a Wayne, was donning the Robin mantle what you needed to do to be seen again?

You didn’t know.

~

2022

The three brothers climbed onto the train after Damian pulled an insignia out of his pocket. 

“The Captain sends her regards,” Damian says to the guards. They salute and march away after leading them to a private cabin, one that Damian shut and locked as soon as the other two were situated.

“Alright, Damian, you first,” Tim invites him. Damian nods.

“After that man teleported me here, I woke up on a battlefield, it was… very different than the ones we’ve seen before,” he says. “Everything in this world is different from ours, laws, people, everything,” he says. “I don’t even know where to start for you two. I’ve been here for almost two months now and I’m still learning things.”

“Two months?!” Tim shouts. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Damian, you went missing two weeks ago,” Jason corrects.

“Weeks? No, no, I’ve been here for a while now,” Damian shakes his head. Tim pulls out the remains of the watch. “Where did you get that?”

“(Y/N) left it behind before she left,” Tim mumbles.

“This is it. This is the watch that the stranger had too,” Damian takes the watch and opens it.

“So this is the culprit then,” Tim looks down at it. “Maybe we could reverse it somehow to get home.”

“Not in this state, it won’t,” Damian shuts the watch in his hands and places it in his pocket. “I’ve been trying to do my own investigation, but without the watch and with the constant surveillance I’ve been drawing blanks.” 

“Superveillance?” Tim, always the skeptic.

“To avoid any unnecessary complications, I had to hide in plain sight, but that greatly restricted my movements,” Damian grumbles. “Now you two, how did you figure it out?”

“We were tugging it around, and somehow it activated the mechanism inside of it,” Tim explains.

“Before I was transported, the man swang it back and forth, maybe moving the watch is key to activating it,” Damian hypothesizes.

“Movement of some kind, but it has to be precise, otherwise you’d be teleporting everywhere with every step,” Tim swings the pendulum of a clock, but in its sorry state nothing happens.

“Well, either way, we’re not going to figure out shit with it like this,” Jason shakes his head. “I say we find (Y/N) then we figure out how to fix the thing.”

“That’s a good start,” Tim agrees.

“Luckily, I know where she is,” Damian cuts in, “we’ve been sticking close to each other since I landed here.”

“That’s good! She’s alright, then? Safe?” Tim worries. Damian hid the smile behind his hand.

“Good, great even, and most of all safe,” he answers. The train halts and Damian stands up first. “But, since I have you both here, we’re going to have to figure out a way to have both of you go under the radar too. So I’ll share the story we've been using.” Tim and Jason shared wary glances.

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“We’re from the mountains—”

“Fuck, couldn’t you have come up with something more believable?” Jason groans.

“Trust me, it’s worked so far, it explains our general lack of knowledge on how everything in this universe works as for the lack of ID,” he starts, “so, we’re from a mountain village. Recently, due to impoverished conditions, our parents sent all of us down to start working and to send money home. It works with (Y/N) in her position, it works with me being inducted late, and we’ll find a way to make it work with you two.”

“Sure, alright, I’ll play along if it means we can get home easier,” Tim says.

“Home… yeah,” Damian nods, but Jason is quick to catch his unease. He chose not to bring it up, though.

“Fine, yeah, I’ll be a farmer, or whatever,” Jason leans back against the seat.

“This world, though, you mentioned different laws. Hell, Jason and I got arrested for taking care of things the way we usually do, how can you explain that?”

“The law enforcement in this world is basically airtight, and it’s based on an honor system,” Damian explains, “At any moment, someone can be removed and replaced in the Knighthood under two circumstances: reasonable petition or honorable combat. Reasonable petition is when enough people with viable grievances petition for a member to be removed. Honorable combat is when someone challenges a Knight for their position. Because of this system, a natural respect is garnered by the people, and as a result of that there’s hardly any petty crime. As for the larger crimes, those are dealt with quickly, there’s far worse problems to deal with in this world than crime,” Damian says.

“And the law?” Jason probes.

“No unreasonable violence without just cause and material evidence,” Damian says. “That’s the best way to put why you two were arrested. The victim ran away so you didn’t have their testimony, the criminal was knocked out cold so he couldn’t say anything anyway, and two people without IDs were spotted at the scene. Not a good look, right?”

“Fair enough,” Tim brushes his shoulder.

“It’s a good thing you two are in civilian attire, makes it easier for you to blend in,” Damian says.

“Yeah… speaking of, where’s your uniform? What’s with the get up?” Jason asks.

“It’s at the apartment right now, we had to keep it hidden. To be able to integrate quickly I joined the Knighthood alongside a new regiment, I lucked out in the timing, but because of that I have a strict regimen to stick to, it’s been hard to investigate, but now that I have you both here we should be able to delegate.” The train slows to a stop and the cabin door opens automatically. Damian held a finger to his lips to signal that the conversation was over and the older two nodded. Damian leads them out of the train and the trio steps into a high-ceiling station. “We’re in the citadel now, the Knightsguard is the primary form of law enforcement here,” Damian says just loud enough for them to hear.

“This looks right out of a fantasy book,” Tim looks around.

“Uh… yeah,” Jason watches people interacting with holograms and other tech he couldn’t have even imagined. “So, where’s (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I’m taking you to her, obviously,” Damian grimaces. “But she’s busy right now, we’ll have to wait, but you’ll be able to see her,” Damian leads them down a series of corridors. “I need you both to remain calm while we’re here, though, remember we have to fly under the radar if we’re all going to go home, that means we have to play by their rules,” Damian says.

“Yeah, I can be calm,” Jason huffs. Tim and Damian deadpan toward him. “What? I can!”

“Says the man who decked someone first thing,” Damian chuckles.

“How’d you even know that was us anyway?!” Jason gasps.

“Two men in their twenties, one used excessive force on a civilian and the other screamed in frustration when it happened, then they argued with each other right after,” Damian recites. “I didn’t even have to listen to your names to know it was you two,” his mouth falls into a flat line.

“That could’ve been anyone, though,” Tim says.

“Sure, in any other earth where law-breaking was common, like ours. I already explained to you that things are different here. Not to mention, those other worse things to worry about,” Damian led the two into an arena-like room.

“Dami! Over here!” A voice yells out.

“Ooh, Dami, huh?” Jason nudges him and Damian rolls his eyes.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he glowers.

“It’s kinda in the job description,” Jason snarks and Damian frowns.

“You two are so similar,” he mumbles under his breath. “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he responds to Retta regardless and the three approach them.

“Whoa, who are these?” Lowen asks.

“These are my brothers, Tim and Jason,” Damian introduces them. “They are also from our backwater mountain village,” Damian glares at Hugo.

“Whoa…” Hugo was stuck in admiration, though.

“You two, the group here are my friends, don’t be weird. The one eating a sandwich is Niers, the one who called us over is Retta, the girl playing with those rocks is Luciana, the one reading over there is Lowen, and the one making googly eyes toward Jason is Hugo,” Damian runs through the list and the group exchanges awkward hellos.

“Well, you’re all just in time! The Brigade’s about to start their sparring matches,” Retta points toward the ring in the middle. “Every month the Brigade checks their individual progress through these matches, randomized opponents and randomized scenarios. Though we don’t have to be here, it’s always fascinating to see how quick-witted they are. Truly they are the best of the best for a reason,” she explains.

“Yeah? We’ll see about that,” Jason mutters.

“Jason’s somewhat of an expert,” Tim nudges him.

“What about you?” Lowen snarks.

“He’s smart,” Damian answers for him.

“That’s… that’s it?” Lowen hums.

“Trust us, he’s the most important one,” Jason sighs.

“Oh! It’s starting!” Niers leans forward, pulling out his phone to start recording. “Looks like Officer Jones and Lieutenant Wright are first,” he says.

“Jones is the one on the left, Wright, I’m sure, looks familiar,” Damian speaks so only the two could hear him.

“Holy shit… that’s Alex,” Jason squints his eyes. “What’s he doing here?”

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself,” Damian leans forward. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“In our line of work, those don’t exist,” Tim replies.

“What’s your first impression of them? Just a curious question,” Luciana butts into their conversation, she’s looking at Jason, the so-called expert.

“Well…” Jason leans forward. “Both of them are in the military, that’s clear from their builds. Jones has a broader build, though, his shoulders are heavier but his arms are just as built, he probably uses a heavy weapon, right?”

“Right, he uses battle axes,” Luciana leans back. “And the lieutenant?”

“Hm…” Jason thought back, he’d met Alex a couple of times, that nerd. He couldn’t imagine him wielding anything as heavy as an axe, and with that more balanced build it was clear that, if anything, he would only be able to use lightweight weapons. Then again, Alex is a nerd, and if this world is straight out of a story booy then one thing could be plausible. “Magic user.”

“He is an expert!” Niers gasps.

“Just lucky guesses,” Jason hums.

“Watch the screens there,” Retta points to the monitors. “Look, you can see who’s fighting on that first one and the second one shows the random scenario.”

“Swords, wow,” Lowen closed his book and watched with an intent gaze. “Just look at the way they even hold them,” he was amazed, and rightfully so.

“So, you both have talents in martial arts?” Retta asks.

“Yeah, but I’ve never used a sword before,” Jason shrugs.

“Observe carefully,” Damian mutters. Tim and Jason catch onto his words and they turn their focus to the fight ahead of them.

~

2013

You walked downstairs one night, the moon was high in the sky and the stars just barely peeking out of Gotham’s smog. You had another nightmare, the same one you’ve been having for a while now. Your fear of being left alone because of the looming threat of death was one that you didn’t think would be going away any time soon. You walked into the kitchen, ready to pour yourself a glass of water.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Tim says behind you. You gasped in surprise, nearly dropping the glass while turning around. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. There’s a mug in front of him, freshly poured and still cooling down.

“Is everything okay?” You pulled up a chair in front of him and he hesitated before answering.

“… No,” he looks into the mug in front of him. “I know I volunteered to become the next Robin but… training’s been harder than I thought it would be,” he shakes his head.

“That bad?” You rest your head on your hand. “Is Dick being too hard on you?”

“No, it’s not that, if anything Dick is the only one I’m actually learning from,” Tim shakes his head. “It’s just… it’s a lot,” he admits. You leaned forward on the table now.

“Well, for what it counts, I know next to nothing about fighting crime, so if you ever want to take a break, why not spend the day with me? I’m just a boring old civilian, but it’ll be nice to get some fresh air once in a while,” you offered.

“You’re not just a boring old civilian,” he shakes his head. “But… if you’re not doing anything tomorrow, maybe we can do something then?”

“Tomorrow?” You hummed. “Sure, let’s go do something after school,” you nodded. “I’ll tell dad so don’t worry about it, if he gets upset he’d have to go through me first,” you joked.

“Yes! I can’t wait!”

The next day, you and Tim were practically bouncing in your shoes waiting for the day to be over. Tim wondering what you had planned and you wondering how the day will go. This is the first time you’d have something of a younger sibling and you were so excited about it. You were excited to spend time with Tim the same way your older siblings spent time with you. It was a miracle that your dad agreed to let you take Tim out for the day, granted Dick did most of the talking, but you were thankful nonetheless. And, once the bell rang, it was nearly in the blink of an eye that both of you were outside.

“So, what are we doing today?” Tim asks.

“Hmm…” you pulled out two slips of paper and showed them to Tim, blank side up. “Choose one.”

“Any of them?”

“Yup, the one you choose is the one we’ll do today,” you nodded.

“Okay, well…” he looks between them both and selects the left one, “ice cream?”

“Ice cream it is,” you showed him the other paper which simply read ‘Arcade’ and you saw the way his eyes lit up, “this one is for the next time we hang out.”

“Next time?”

“Sure, even heroes need breaks,” you nudged him. “Anyway, there’s this hole-in-the-wall place I used to go to all the time, you’ll love it there, they have this cookie-butter flavor that is just so good,” you hummed.

“Cookie butter sounds good right now,” Tim follows at your heels.

“Hey, catch up! Don’t walk behind me like that,” you waited for him to join you at your side before continuing onward. “Look at those, Timmy,” you pointed into the shop window at the shoes. “I’ve been wanting that pair since forever,” you pointed at the one in the middle.

“Why don’t you just buy them then?” He asks you.

“Where’s the fun in that? My mom taught me from the get-go to earn things before getting them. Sure, her way was a bit…”

“Illegal?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you tilted your head to the side and nodded, “so I decided to combine both her and dad’s philosophies.”

“Beating people up?”

“No, no,” you shook your head quickly. “Work hard to make the prizes more worthwhile. It’s good for goal setting, and motivation, and it feels nice to finally reach a goal,” you pointed at the shoes. “I’m not going to buy those shoes until I graduate high school. No ifs, ands, or buts,” you announced. You and Tim walked into the ice cream parlor next to it and Tim slid into a booth. “How about you, Timmy? What’s your motivation?” Tim hums for a second.

“I want to do what’s right,” he says.

“You sure about that?” You asked him. He looks confused. “Think about it, Tim. I’m gonna get our ice cream.”

“But, that is my motivation.”

“That’s like premeds saying they want to save lives when asked why they wanted to go into medicine,” you explained.

“Well, you want to be a premed, why do you want to go into medicine?”

“Surgery, I want to specialize in that specifically because I like cutting things open,” you laughed and Tim’s face grew grim.

“Are you serious?!”

“Yeah, I mean, cutting things open with consent, duh, but see it’s small reasons that will help you drive your bigger one,” you say. “Anyway, what flavor do you want?”

“Chocolate, please.”

“Sounds good, think about it, Timmy, I’ll be right back.”

~

2022

“Talk about crowd,” Carter looks out from his spot. “When did we become zoo animals?” He nudges you.

“Who knows? It started out with the twins observing us, and now we have half the knighthood here,” you shrugged. “Poor Nix, though, he got the short end of the stick with swords.”

“He was never good at that subject,” you and Carter watched the sword slip out of Nixon’s hand and land stuck to the ground beneath. Alex, meanwhile, stops the blade right as it would’ve hit Nixon’s neck.

“Yield! I yield,” Nixon rose his hands and Alex put the sword away, offering his hand instead, which Nixon took with pride. “Good one, Lex,” he pulls Alex in and the two bump shoulders before separating. “Hey, stage’s all yours!” Nixon flags you both down.

“Yeah, yeah, take your time to walk that one off,” you fired back. Nixon rolled his eyes and followed Alex.

“Nixon, you have to pay more attention to your footing, I didn’t even have to worry about striking you since you were too busy tripping over yourself,” Alex says, “it’s amazing that you can wield an axe a foot taller than you.”

“Hey, come on, an axe is weighed totally differently than a sword,” Nixon shrugs. “Who’s up next anyway?”

“That would be us,” you raised your hand alongside Carter’s.

“Oh, now this I gotta see, you two don’t get paired up often,” Nixon grins. “My money’s on the Captain, of course,” he whispers to Alex.

“That all depends on what the random scenario is,” you shrugged. “If it’s anything other than swordsmanship or rifling, I’m screwed,” you sighed and followed Carter out, keeping your eyes glued to the screen to see the scenario. The words moved through the screen quickly in a wheel-like fashion until they settled on one phrase.

‘Hand-to-hand combat’

“Damn it all,” you cursed. Carter, meanwhile, stretched his arms across his chest. “You’re an expert at this one, Adara.”

“You would know,” he answers with a grin.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. You grabbed the wraps from the table and secured them around your hands. “Go easy, maybe?”

“You’d hate me if I did,” Carter held his hand out and you shook it with a firm grasp.

“Good answer,” you separated and took a deep breath and, once the buzzer sounded, your first move was to block, of all things. Too preoccupied with what was going on in the stands, you were more focused on not getting knocked down.

“Hey, she kinda looks like (Y/N),” Jason whistles. Damian and Tim turn back to look at him, the latter’s jaw on the floor.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” Damian clicks his tongue.

“That is (Y/N)!” Tim gestures toward you with open hands and Jason whistles louder.

“Oh!” He leans back to get a wider view. “Oh,” his voice drops alongside his jaw. He shoots up and runs down the bleachers.

“Jason! Don’t do anything dumb!” Tim makes a move to follow, but Damian pulls him down.

“Shh!”

“He’s gonna blow our cover!”

“You’re both going to blow our cover if you make a scene,” Damian hisses. 

“(Y/N)!” Jason cupped his hands around his mouth and your head whipped to the side.

“Jason?!” Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“Twelve o’clock!” He shouts. You duck your head in time to dodge the jab.

“Distracted, cap?” Carter pulls his fists back and you hold your arms in a defensive stance while shaking the shock from your thoughts. You knew Carter well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let you off easy, and such was true when he landed a hit clean on your jaw. You stumbled back on slightly, pushing your mandible back in place.

“Good hit.”

“Not good enough apparently.” Carter was relentless, you knew he had a natural talent at this but goddammit you were about to get schooled in front of the newbies. You blocked another hit from him and ducked under his swing. You could only dodge him for so long, you’d have to fight back eventually, but he kept all of his weak points well-guarded, moving just enough every time to block you off. It was when he knocked the wind out of you, causing you to stumble back and land against the railing, then a small ray of hope appeared.

“Hey, kid,” Jason takes your shoulders and holds you steady, “come on, shake it off. When dealing with opponents twice your size, you gotta go for the spots they won’t think twice of. Looks like this guy doesn’t skip chest day, but if you look at his proportions, your best bet is to go for the legs and then you throw punches,” he instructs. You nodded your head shakily, your pride was getting in the way of your logic right now.

“Yeah, okay, why?” Was all you were able to get out.

“I’ll be damned if my little sister loses in a hand-to-hand fight, this is my bread and butter,” he hits his chest with his fist. “Now go fuck him up!” He pushes you forward and you roll your neck, the world stabilizing around you and your breathing steadying again.

“Okay, I’m back,” you hold your hands in front of you.

“Isn’t that cheating?” He nudges his head toward Jason.

“Please, he just wanted to say ‘hello,’” you shrugged and charged again. Go for the legs, that’s right, that was always Carter’s weak point, why didn’t you think of that before? Good on Jason for noticing it as soon as he looked at him too, just goes to show you still have a lot to learn. Color Carter surprised when you roundhoused him first, knocking him onto his back and grabbing him by the collar. “Yield.”

“Nah,” he grabs your arm and sweeps you off of your feet, you were airborne for a while before you felt yourself pinned to the ground. You broke free from his grasp and rolled to the side, regaining your footing quickly to move out of the way of another swing.

“Come on, (Y/N)!” Of course, Jason was always the loudest in the room. You adjusted steadied your stance and threw a jab just as you moved out of the way of Carter’s right hook.

“Who’s he, anyway?” Carter asks.

“Focus,” you duck behind him and sweep his legs again, this time Carter falls forward, but you grab the back of his shirt on time. “You always keep your back open,” you shook your head.

“Well, I usually have you to watch it,” he pushes up and pivots on his heel, once again grabbing your arm, but you took this as a chance to slam your knee into his abdomen, effectively knocking the wind out of him and pushing him to the side. You stretched your arms out again and, right as he recovered, you landed a hit clean against his jaw, knocking him onto the floor. You shook the stinging pain out of your hands while he raised his right one. “Yield,” he adjusts his jaw and you help him up.

“Goes to show I’m captain for a reason, right?” You pulled him close so you could whisper in his ear. “Why’d you let me win? I know you can pack a harder punch.”

“Half the knighthood’s watching, and that guy who said ‘hello’ is glaring daggers at me,” he nudges his head toward Jason. Jason. You let go of him and turn to your brother, nodding toward the side of the stage, and he catches your signal, going in that direction while you drop the wraps back in their place. “Where are you off to?”

“Investigation, watch over Eve’s and Alex’s spar for me,” you walked under the entrance and spotted Jason at the end. “Don’t get excited, he let me win,” you jutted your thumb behind you, but Jason still had a proud grin on his face.

“Does it matter? Look at you go, kiddo!” He clapped a hand against your back and you groaned. “Now… what the fuck was that?!” His shout was obvious and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Look, Jay, a lot has changed since we last spoke, but more importantly, what the hell are you doing here? How? Are the others about to come pouring in?” You asked.

“Oh, actually, Tim’s here too.”

“Tim’s here too?!”

“Yeah, wanna say hi?”

“Jason, be serious, you shouldn’t be here, the three of you!”

“Well, duh, Tim and I came here to nab you and Damian and head back.”

“Head back? Do you even know how to head back?!”

“Sure,” Jason pulls out the wristwatch and you grab it, looking at the damaged insignia on the front. It was almost too scraped and worn through to be able to get a clear image, but the shape was a dead giveaway.

“How did you get this?”

“You left it behind?”

“Me? No, no, that’s impossible, I don’t use this model,” you said.

“Model? Wait, you have one of these?” Jason points at it in your hands.

“Yes, kind of, it’s complicated, Jay.”

“And you never came home?!” You stopped. You took a deep breath.

“… No,” you shook your head. You opened the watch. “Whatever you two did to this, it’s busted beyond repair. It can’t get you back now, and the models I use are under lock and key by the Crown,” you shut the watch with one hand and handed it back to Jason.

“And since Damian’s still here then you haven’t been able to get it, huh?”

“Without putting him at risk, no,” you crossed your arms and Jason mirrored your stance. “I’m not going back, Jay.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you,” he says while rubbing the back of his neck harshly. “Look, I know you have your reasons, and I’m not going to bang my head against a wall to understand them—”

“I thought you of all people would understand,” you interjected.

“What?”

“You didn’t come home either, did you?” You asked.

“That was different.”

“How so?” You stepped up. “We both died because of a mistake that father made and we both came back fundamentally changed from who we were before, how are we different?”

“Because you are you and I am me,” Jason points to you then to himself. “I… I can’t explain it other than that,” he shakes his head.

“Sister,” Damian approaches with Tim in tow.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” you took the watch from Jason’s hand and held it up. “Look familiar, Damian?” You held it by the chain and the younger nodded. “Shit, this just got more complicated,” you muttered. You shoved it into your pocket as soon as you heard footsteps.

“Ayo, Cap!” Nixon waves his hand. “Ayo… everyone else,” he observes the group while the rest of the Brigade follow behind him. 

“Whoa, long time no see, Alex,” Jason waves.

“Hello, Jason,” Alex nods his head. “I don’t suppose daddy dearest will be next, will he?” Alex whispers toward you.

“Interesting to see a familiar face,” Tim was already making connections, you could see it in his expression.

“Shit… the Queen’s gonna kill me,” you slumped your shoulders and your eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Would it be nepotism if I just tossed them in some honorary role?” You looked at Alex.

“Yes, very, but they’re too old to take the recruits’ test too,” Alex hums.

“It’s fine, there’s no need,” Tim cuts in. “We’ll be in and out, we’re just here to get Damian and (Y/N) and we’ll be on our way—”

“Whoa, whoa, what do you mean you’re here for the captain?” Carter subtly steps next to you now. “Sure, take the kid, we were looking for ways to send him back anyway, but you can’t take her.” He looks toward you and you sigh.

“What do you mean we can’t take her?” Tim frowns.

“Stop,” you held your hand out and the group fell into a tangible silence. “Look, we can’t have this conversation until we even find a way to send them back. We haven’t had access to our watches since we came back, and we can only use those with a direct Royal order, so until then, we’re going to have to find a way for you both to lie low, that’s why I inducted Damian into the Knighthood, it gave me a way to keep an eye on him while I researched the monster outbreaks,” you explain.

“There’s monsters here too?” Tim asks.

“Naturally,” you nodded. “Any of you have any ideas on how I handle my brothers?” You looked at your team.

“You are taking this surprisingly well,” Alex comments. You look at your watch.

“No time to freak out, I have to head down to the lab soon, there are developments with the daemon I need to check out,” you silenced your phone, “well? Anyone?”

“It’s a long shot, but…” Eve hums. “I know we have openings on our research team, we could probably fit them in there,” she says.

“I could do that,” Tim says. “Jason, though, I’m not too sure,” he looks at his brother, who crossed his arms.

“There is that way,” Alex speaks up but you shook your head.

“No way.”

“Well, it’s your best bet if you don’t want Jason around vials ten times older than he is,” Alex insists.

“What is it? I can handle it,” Jason nods.

“Mm… who would he fight though? He has to take someone’s place,” you mumbled.

“Or, if he fought someone with high authority and they were impressed with him that could work too,” Alex insists.

“Who has that authority?” You asked him.

“…” Alex didn’t answer.

“Oh,” your eyes widened slightly with the realization. “Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Jason, repeat after me,” you looked at him and he nodded. “I, Jason Todd.”

“I, Jason Todd.”

“Challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“The Captain of the Brigade.”

“For a position on their team.”

“For a position on their… team?” Jason’s head tilts slightly.

“Sure, challenge accepted,” you took his hand and shook it.

“Wait… What?!” You pushed him toward the arena. “Hold on!”

“See you guys in a bit, I’ll explain everything after this, promise, meanwhile someone makes up an ID for him and Timmy,” you looked at your team and they nodded, heading toward the stands. “Jason, make it look realistic, yeah? Eyes everywhere.” You pushed him out of the entryway and Jason looked around the arena. He’d seen it from above, but to be in the center of it all was a whole new experience.

“Get a load of this! Someone challenged the Captain!” A voice shouted.

“Captain Wayne?! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

“Who is he anyway? Someone pull up his ID.”

“Not every day we see someone not in the Knighthood challenge, should be interesting.”

“What did you get me into?” Jason asks, looking around the now looming arena.

“Shh,” you pointed toward the screens. The phrases rolled in roulette until it settled: No scenario. “Well, that’s just luck.” Two tables rose on either side of you. “Take your pick, Jay. Whichever you choose I’ll go with too. If I’m impressed, I’ll induct you in, if not… well, we’ll deal with that after,” you shrugged and stood at the table, waiting for your opponent to make his choice. Jason, as predicted, picked up the pistols. “Don’t worry, there’s an enchantment on them, nothing here is deadly,” you told him, picking up your own pair of guns. “We’re sparring, not killing.”

“Sure, yeah,” he gives them a spin to test their weight, and, strangely enough, they felt perfect. “So what exactly are we doing?”

“Only way I can keep you two close by. Tim goes with research, you stick by me. I can’t have you running off punching people, Jay.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Not here you can’t, god, you’re worse than Damian,” you readjusted your grip around the handles. “Think of it as a spar, you’ve done plenty of those.”

“This isn’t fair, though,” Jason stood at one end of the arena. “You’ve watched me since I started, you know all my moves.”

“Not true, there was a three-year gap, right? I would hope you learned something new.”

“Oho, you really are my sister if you’re making jokes about your death,” Jason held the pistol up. “I saw that fight too, let’s get caught up,” Jason takes the first shot and you move out of the way just in time, taking your own shot in response.

~

2015

“So, anyway,” Tim takes a bite of his cheeseburger while you drank your soda, “Conner did some crazy shit where he ripped the robot in two, it was insane!” Tim continued to tell his story but soon he caught himself.

“It’s okay, he’s still your best friend,” you urged him to continue.

“Still, though, I mean…” Tim crosses his arms.

“At least he did it the right way, he broke up with me first,” you shrugged. “And it’s good for you too! You don’t have to hear me talking about him anymore,” you nudged him playfully and continued eating. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sis,” he shakes his head. “Plus, I’m out here with you, why would I want to talk about work?” Tim groans. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” you hummed. “I’ve just sent out my applications. I’m looking into some different universities,” you pulled up the list on your phone. “I’m really looking at Metropolis or Central City, they have strong STEM programs that I’m interested in,” you said.

“Oh… what about Gotham U?” Tim asks. You look up from your phone and you don’t quite think you’ve seen that expression on him before.

“Of course, that’s my safe university, I’m pretty much guaranteed acceptance with my namesake alone,” you cleared your throat. “Is… is everything okay, Timmy?” You asked him. You couldn’t beat around the bush anymore. You’d noticed Tim being a bit more… resistant to certain things going on in the house. You leaving for college being one of them, you never noticed just how close you two were until now.

“Bruce… he doesn’t need me anymore, huh?” He says quietly.

“Oh, Tim, don’t say that,” you straightened your posture and you took a deep breath.

“And you… you have an actual younger brother now,” Tim says quietly.

“Hey, come on, blood doesn’t make the bond,” you say. “Plus, no one could ever replace you,” you continued. “I mean, not just anyone memorizes 200 digits of pi for fun.”

“Come on, that’s nothing!” Tim grumbles.

“Definitely something, Tim I cry tears of joy when problems tell me to just use pi instead of 3.14,” you laughed. “But, I’m serious, Tim, if anything you’re going to get promoted,” you grinned. Tim shoots you an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, I guess, I don’t know what exactly I’m so worried about,” he says. “I mean… well, I don’t know,” he stops and decides not to pursue it any further. “But, uh, Metropolis, huh? That’s a good school!”

“I know, just a little far now that I think about it,” you muttered. “Gotham’s program isn’t so bad either, I guess,” you hummed and took a quick glance at Tim, who already seemed a little happier.

“But, (Y/N), you don’t have to go there, you looked excited talking about those other two,” Tim catches your glance. “It’s just… they’re far,” he leans back against the booth. “We can’t be with you there, you know? You’d be on your own and you’re a Wayne and…”

“Hey, I can handle myself pretty well, I think,” you insisted. “I mean, I made it this far, right?”

“Because you had us!”

“Tim,” your voice dropped and you looked both ways, ensuring that no one was listening. “I get that I’m not as… extraordinary as you all, but I’m not helpless, I can take care of myself, I’ve been taking care of myself, and I know you mean well, but Tim you’ve gotta trust me a little,” you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not as fragile as Dick likes to make me out to be.”

“That’s… that’s not what I meant,” Tim looked away and you sighed.

“I know, I know you just want me to be safe, all of us,” you crossed your arms. “But I can’t just live in fear. One thing being in this family teaches you is how to be careful,” you looked to the side. “And another thing it teaches you is that family is what you make it,” Tim looked at you now. “Dick and I aren’t blood-related, neither was Jason, and neither are you, but still I have never looked at any of you as anything other than my brothers. The same goes for Babs, Steph, and Cass, you’re all my family regardless of anything, and I will always put you all first. But, with that said, the same goes for Damian. He’s young, alone, and probably confused, we can’t alienate him just because of his background, if anything, that’s why we should accept him more. And you, Tim, I get it, you’re different from the first two, but that doesn’t make you any less than them, hell, I bet if Jason were here right now he’d say the same.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts, Tim, I mean it, you’re amazing!”

“Maybe… maybe I’ll take a page out of your book then, (Y/N), retire early,” he says. Your shoulders slumped.

“Whatever you want, little bro. And if you do, I’ll be here to help you out. And if not, I’ll still be here.”

“Even if you’re miles away?”

“You know, there’s this wonderful invention called cell phones.”

“Stop it! You know what I mean!”

“Yes! Yeah, of course, even if I’m partying it up in Central City, if you call me I’ll come running, I know you’d do the same.”

“Well, that goes without saying,” Tim crosses his arms now.

“So… the new team, huh? I’d love to meet them.”

“Oh, you are going to love them, (Y/N)!” Tim beams.

~

2022

You just narrowly dodged the bullet this time, had Jason already gotten a reading on you? Impossible. You had to switch up your tactics quickly or else you’d actually lose. Think, (Y/N), what was he going to do next? Jason, as much as a wildcard he is, you could read him easily. He had these kinds of wind-ups to certain moves, you noticed. Like now, that roll of his shoulder, he’s going in for a hook so now you had to think about where he’s aiming. If he ducks low enough it’s your abdomen, if he keeps his level then it’s your shoulder. Leave it to Jason to play dirty, he picked up the pistols only for them to be a red herring, but, then again, you should’ve expected this from him as soon as he holstered the damn things.

But you knew him as well as he knew you. You play by the rules, maybe a little too much, out of the box operations were more of Carter’s forte while you and Alex tried to stick to orders more. But, come to think of it, you’d always been this way. Always doing what you’re told and never standing up until you have to. Then here’s Jason, an absolute force of nature when he’s pissed and an unstoppable machine when he’s focused.

You dodged his punch and bounced back, creating some distance before aiming the pistol and taking three shots. One on his arm, the other on his leg, and the third missed its mark when it grazed his shoulder. On each impact the bullet dissipated, hitting him with enough force to push him back but hardly enough to leave more than a bruise. You switched hands and fired another round, this time the bullet grazed his cheek and Jason couldn’t stop the proud smirk that rose on his face.

You never really got why your siblings were so crazy about sparring. Sure, you got it from a training standpoint, but their obsession with it was on a new level. It was just a pass time for them and you’d just sip on a juicebox and wait for them to finish.

But you get it now.

It’s a whole different language, one that was perfected by the Waynes. Each attack was like a part of a conversation, let’s get caught up, you get what he meant now. Even your spars with the other members of the Brigade weren’t this entertaining, and everyone in the stands agreed. Usually, you’d hear roars of shouts but this time it was silent. Everyone was watching in tense observation, trying to see if Jason had what it takes to join the Brigade and, hell, he actually might.

“Come on, Jay, you picked up those pistols, use them,” you taunted. Jason shook his head and charged again, you barely moved out of the way this time. “You’re faster.”

“I do cardio with Steph.” You ducked under his swing.

“Wider shoulders too.” He grabbed your fist before you could hit him and you shook him off before he could toss you.

“Dick would kill me if I skipped chest day.” You held the pistol up but misfired.

“Thought he was more of a glutes guy.” Jason evades your attacks easily.

“You know that’s all genetics.” He shrugs and you take this chance to shoot at his foot, causing him to lose his balance temporarily.

“True.” It didn’t last long, Jason was up on his feet in seconds and you were planning your next attack.

“I’m starting to think you just use those things as a safety blanket,” you looked at either pistol and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You know one thing about you that hasn’t changed, kiddo?”

“What?”

“You still don’t look under you.”

“What?” You looked down and your breath stopped, seeing the array of bullet shells and spikes beneath you. “Now when did you get those?”

“Had them from the beginning, you just weren’t paying attention,” he shakes his head.

“Effectively, this would be a draw,” you looked around you, one misstep would be something of an unfortunate lego brick under your shoes. “Neither of us can move forward,” you explained.

“Oh yeah? Boring,” he shakes his head.

“This match is over,” you announced, stretching out your neck and, in seconds, all the weapons disappeared as if in a simulation and the cheering was deaf to you. “I like you, you’re not Brigade material, but I’ll find a place for you,” you held your hand out and he shook it.

“Sure, I look forward to it,” he says. 

“So, I have to ask, why didn’t you use them? Wanted to prove you didn’t need them?”

“You really think I would shoot you? Spar or not, I couldn’t do that,” he shakes his head. You stopped for a moment, but regained your senses before anyone could notice. “Now what?”

“I either get my ass kicked by the queen or we start your onboarding, should be quick, I’m putting you in one of the honorary squadrons,” you nodded. Jason followed you into the end of the arena. “What we talked about earlier? We discuss it to no one. Not Damian, not Tim, and no one on my team,” you said.

“What did we talk about again?” Jason caught your hint.

“Captain! Captain, we have a problem!” Marion was quick to meet you.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That beast from a few months ago, the one that attacked the new recruits! It’s back! It’s in the courtyard right now! Aldryn’s moving the royal family to a safe house as we speak.”

“Shit,” you looked at Jason, then to Marion. “Take me there,” you pulled your phone out and held it to your ear. “All members of the Brigade report to the courtyard, we have another Daemon to take care of,” you held your hand over the speaker, “Mary how many of them are there?”

“We counted one so far, but if it’s anything like before…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

“You take the recruits and go somewhere safe, we’ll call for help if we need it.” You ran off toward the courtyard and Marion looks at Jason.

“Who are you?” She asks.

“I’m with her,” Jason jogs after you. “What the hell is a Daemon, (Y/N)?!”

“We have monsters. This is a recent one that happens to decimate towns,” you explained, “why are you following me? Go somewhere far!”

“I wouldn’t even know where to go!” Jason defends. You both stop once you reach the outdoors and Jason swallows down his words. “That… is that it?”

“Whatever it is… that is not the one that attacked the recruits before,” you looked up. It was huge, bigger than anyone you had fought before. It towered over you easily while fresh blood dripped down its maw. It spots you and its ears straighten in alert while its eyes, empty white sockets, bored their way into you. Your eyes drifted to its neck and you could just barely make out the glint of metal that was hidden in its fur. You held your phone up again. “We need it alive.”

“Roger,” Nixon answered first.

“I’ll handle crowd control,” Alex says.

“I’m on my way now,” Eve was next.

“Can you handle it until we get there?” Carter.

“Sure… maybe.” The beast growled and, maybe you were just noticing it, but with every roar or grunt the skies seemed to get darker.

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[tswwwit]

Lol omg at your last ask because imagine dippers under some truth spell and ends up spilling a bunch of secrets that Bill already knew and had stashed to use for later

This is no longer 'last ask' relevant because I had this partially written in my drafts for like a million years - but a Truth spell on Dipper would be very interesting!

So I took this prompt and didn't really answer it except in some ways.

Here's a thing!

“You never bring me any souvenirs.” Bill complains. In an all-too-whiny tone, and an all-too-close lean into Dipper's personal space.

Plus, it's a blatant lie. One Dipper shouldn't respond to. 

He does anyway. “I literally brought you harpy feathers last week.” 

“Doesn’t count! That was for a ritual you wanted to pull off!” Bill sounds miffed, though he also plants a palm on Dipper’s head and starts ruffling hair. “Now where's the emerald from last March? Or like, the headdress from that cult with all the rabbit bones? The good stuff."

Dipper grunts. He focuses on navigating back out of the cave, turning the clay tablet over in his hands.

Figures Bill would remember all the times he did get something. His memory is excellent. And he’s greedy, because a new toy every time is a big ask. 

What does Bill expect, anyway. Not every situation Dipper gets into has something to bring back. What could he even offer? An ear taken off every monster he has to fight?

Wait, no. Bill would love that.

Dipper makes a face. “You've just proved that it's not ‘never’. With examples." 

"Sure, but when’s the last time it was cool?” 

Dipper sighs. No point in arguing. Bill could go on forever about how 'unfair' it is that he doesn't get trophies from every trip, or trinkets from conquered lands, or, again, ears from every enemy. When he’s decided to complain, no reasonable argument will shake him out of it.

“Too bad, then. You’re only getting some gifts.” Dipper shakes his head rapidly to dislodge Bill’s hand from his hair. "It’s hardly the worst thing that’s ever happened to you."

“Hey! I could argue that it’s related! In fact -”

Dipper tunes out the rest of Bill’s ramble, rolling his eyes. Listening with half an ear to Bill's ongoing tirade about being a poorly kept man, and unappreciated in his time. 

Despite how much he already has, Bill always wants more. Somehow he sniffed out Dipper’s latest excursion, showing up right at the end and looking for ‘loot’.

Which Dipper, by all rights, should prevent. 

 Anything magical falling into Bill's hands can cause chaos, no matter how innocuous it seems. The flower incident alone is reason not to hand Bill anything, ever, and the fact that Dipper still does sometimes should be appreciated, damn it.

Bill's complaining on and on, but whatever. Eventually he'll get bored.

 In the meantime, Dipper turns the clay tablet around again with a frown. He found something interesting, at least.

Whatever this is, it’s definitely not a language he recognizes. The script is strange, scrawled in different directions. For all he knows he’s holding it upside down. He hopes Bill doesn’t notice until he’s figured out - 

"Whatcha got there?" Just as expected - and right on time. 

Dipper feels the tablet yanked out of his grasp, unfazed. He doesn't break his stride.

"I found it in the lair, after... you know." Charred bones, explosions - Dipper wishes he could use, like water, or something, but mastery over even one element is powerful as is. "Anyway, that monster was collecting a lot of weird magic stuff, and this was the only interesting thing it had." He shrugs. Then, because Bill will like it, adds, "So... to the victor go the spoils?"

“Now that’s the spirit!” Bill gives him a grin, holding the tablet up to squint at it. Thankfully not turning it around. One point for Dipper, on not looking incompetent.

Still, if anyone can read it…

“What language is this?” Dipper not-so-subtly leans over, trying to peek around Bill’s arm.

"Old Draconic," Bill says, without missing a beat. Humming to himself as he apparently reads the text. Perking up a bit, smile widening. "Oh, hey! Iambic pentameter."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing, sapling. I just wish when people did the whole 'ancient poetry curse' thing, they'd get a little more creative. You never see hexameter! Or tetrameter! Not even a tasteful use of spondee.” Bill sticks his tongue out.  "Come to think of it - I don’t think anyone’s done a prose epic that made the reader wanna tear their eyes out since Joyce."

Sometimes with Bill, you have to read between the lines. The long, irrelevant babbling lines.

"Just tell me if I need to get Ford or not." Dipper says, flat. He rubs at the bridge of his nose. 

Among all the other stuff, Bill said ‘curse’. Never, ever a good sign.

Though the monster he just took down wasn’t a dragon, and that wasn’t really a ‘horde’ so much as something resembling the contents of the Mystery Shack, there’s absolutely no good thing about a curse. If Dipper somehow triggered it - 

Great. As if hanging around Bill alone didn’t invite enough bad fortune, he’s picking up parts of his own stupid curiosity.

"Nah, don’t bother with the loser uncle!" Bill waves his concern away, amused. “This is just purple prose! Buncha  ‘oooh, bad things’ll happen if you mess with my stuff.’ Totally boilerplate spellcraft with some flowery wording.” 

With a shrug, Bill dismisses the whole thing. Which includes chucking the tablet over his shoulder, but Dipper manages to snag it before it falls and shatters into a million pieces.

“Typical dragon horde enchantment. All bluster, no burning.” Bill keeps walking without a care in the world. “They’re full of hot air!”

“So I’m not cursed,” Dipper prompts, catching up to him. “Aside from you, I mean.”

“Flatterer,” Bill says, slightly warmer. He continues, shrugging. “No reason you would be! No dragons in the area, and the warning sign there’s too old. By my guess, the original horde was raided centuries ago! Just another piece of random crap that got dragged into that junkyard." And he ruffles Dipper’s hair again, in the second-most annoying way. "You’re stuck with me, though.”

Dipper ducks and twists, thus freeing himself from the minor torment. “I think I can live with that.”

One would think that chatting with a demon - one as cryptic and ominous and aggravating as Bill - would only cause irritation, at best. 

It still does, of course. But when it comes to Dipper, Bill… sometimes lays things out straight. On occasion. Especially when he’s instructing, doubly when it comes to magic. Like he’s trying to pour all the facts he can into Dipper’s brain, overfilling the cup.

If his goal is to overload this one mortal mind, though, he'll have to work a lot harder. 

Dipper gets out his notebook, while Bill looks away, and pretends he didn’t see it. Yet another poorly-veiled lesson, with Bill obviously trying to plant seeds re: actually casting curses. Tough luck managing that. His subtle lean towards chaos might escape the unwary, but to Dipper? Bill’s way too transparent.

The fact is, that Dipper absorbs things fast. Even Bill will admit it, sometimes without being prompted. 

That Includes stuff Bill doesn't even know he's teaching.

Bill’s also rambling on about historical curses, and how often these things backfire, or misfire. It’d almost sound like a series of unconnected, gossipy anecdotes, if it weren’t for the extra technical details. 

And Dipper’s not falling for it. As far as he's concerned, his first curse was his last one.

But then…

Even if he’s not going to use the knowledge, there's no reason not to learn it. Knowledge about making curses can also be used to break them, after all. Taking all the facts Bill smacked a ‘For Evil Purposes Only’ sticker on and using them to shatter an evil plan would be very satisfying.

They’re nearly out of the cave at this point, so Dipper figures it’s fine to let his guard down a bit. The monster's dead, all the traps were cleared out on the way in - everything should be fine.

He clicks his pen a couple times, and asks Bill to repeat that last thing, about the life drain. It gets a snort of amusement, but Bill’s more than happy to elaborate at length. Dipper struggles to keep up with Bill’s rapid-fire speech; he's trying to make this intentionally difficult, damn it.

Bill leads on with careless gestures and an uninterrupted stride. Getting ahead of Dipper by several meters, but Dipper’s got to note down what he says before he has to do something awful, like ask Bill to repeat himself.

Dipper is, in fact, so busy trying to write in shorthand, and walk, and not hit a stalactite with his face, all at the same time, that he sort of loses track of where he is.

And okay, maybe he trips over a rock slightly, and nearly faceplants, bonking against the sudden curve of a wall with a swear.

Dipper takes a step back, rubbing at his forehead. Annoying, but, whatever. There were a few traps around, but he pretty much cleared out the cave on the way in, so it’s probably - oh, hell.

Not fine, he dropped the stupid tablet.

Great. The only really interesting object, shattered into half a dozen pieces. So much from saving it from Bill; Dipper himself fumbled the bag.

He backs up to evaluate the damage -

The stone sinks under his foot, and something goes ‘click’.

With a start, Dipper raises a shield without thinking, arm jerking up as he wills his magic into the gesture. It's solid enough for something done on reflex, but an impact hits hard on his side, with sudden, stinging pain. 

And a pretty hard impact, at that. He didn’t get it solid enough, damn it, wasn’t expecting something physical -  

Dipper wheezes out a breath, slumping to the ground and clutching his stomach. 

Alright. So. He got most of the traps. 

He sits down, and lets his head thump back against the stone, teeth bared in a grimace. Stupid. Should have been paying attention. 

The commotion makes Bill turn his head, blinking at Dipper sitting on the ground. 

Then -  because he’s an asshole - he starts laughing. 

“I know I’m fascinating, sapling, but really?” He tuts, setting fists on his hips. “Not sure if I should be flattered that you’re obsessed with me, or disappointed that you’re dumb enough to walk right into a wall.”

Dipper sucks in a breath, gingerly touching his side. Doesn’t seem like - he glances down. Sure, it stings, and his shirt’s torn, a long, shallow cut on his stomach, just near the old scar. But that’s about it. Over to his side, an arrow rolls against the ground, stone head clicking against the ground.

Over by the cave mouth, Bill’s cackling. God, he’s a jerk sometimes. 

But he must not have seen the trap set off, too wrapped up in his own stupid bullshit, or he’d be less of one. Dipper knows that for a fact. Though he’d really, really prefer he’d never had that experience. 

“C’mon, kid. If you’re not even more brain damaged from your bump, let’s ditch this joint.” Bill jerks his head over his shoulder. 

Dipper hugs himself around the torso, grimacing. Not bothering to respond. His heart is still pounding, or he’d have a retort ready. Adrenaline’s helped him out in a lot of situations, but not with talking. He’ll get up when he’s ready.

“What, you smash your skull open or something?” Bill raises one arch eyebrow. 

Though Dipper knows why Bill’s like this, it’s still deeply annoying. He shakes his head in lieu of a reply. In a second, he’ll be calm enough to tell Bill exactly what he thinks of his incredibly poor bedside - and cave-side - manner. 

“Figures. Can’t leave you alone for five minutes without your guts spilling everywhere.” Bill clicks his tongue, folding his arms and stepping forward. “What’s the damage?”

“It hurts.” Dipper says, through gritted teeth. Then pauses. Wait, he meant to say - He shakes his head rapidly, only for more words to force themselves out, unbidden. “I got cut again.”

Again, not what he intended. Dipper lowers his chin, teeth clenched. What the hell, he shouldn’t have said that. Bill’s mocking aside, maybe he did hit his head a little too hard. Once Bill gets the mockery out of his system, he’s going to be a total pest about it, too.

With a huff, Dipper slumps. Settling in for a sulk, waiting for the next jab - But there’s no insult forthcoming. Or argument. 

In fact, Bill’s gone totally silent. Which is super weird. 

Dipper looks up at the cave entrance, expecting a comment or a question, or at least a huge grin. He tenses up, hunching over.

And meets a frozen, unsmiling face. 

Bill dropped his arms, they hang limp by his sides. His expression’s gone blank.

The next moment, he’s right in front of Dipper, kneeling and tugging at his arms with alarming urgency. 

“Alright, lemme see.” Bill’s face is very close. Though he’s trying to pull his arms away, Dipper resists out of sheer surprise. Bill growls, eye darting around until it lands on the arrow. “Oh for - Really can’t leave you alone for five minutes. Move.” 

Another pull, less hard this time. Like he’s trying to ease Dipper’s arms away.

“Wh- Hey!” Dipper plants a foot against Bill’s chest, but that hardly stops anything. He raises his arms. Holding them up, in fact, like he’s at gunpoint. Where’d this come from. “Don’t get upset, I’m fine.”

“Ha! Good one, sapling. Who’s upset, exactly?” Bill says, teeth bared, and in a deeply upset way. He tugs Dipper’s shirt, up, fingers tracing the cut before pressing into his stomach. “I’m just wondering if I need a replacement mortal this soon into your miserable existence. No big deal!”

Okay, this is too much. 

Dipper struggles up, despite Bill trying to shove him down again. Bracing himself on the cave wall, and glaring. “Calm down already.”

“I’m perfectly calm.” Bill says, through gritted teeth. At best he looks miffed, but he’s at least stopped trying to make Dipper lie down in the recovery position or whatever. With a glare, he tugs up Dipper’s shirt, prodding at the shallow cut. “What the hell, kid. I thought you said it hurt!”

“Ow.” Dipper’s stomach jumps at another poke. He smacks Bill’s hand away. “It does, alright? Quit poking.”

Bill doesn’t seem impressed. His fingers trail over the larger, older scar on Dipper’s left side, then glares at Dipper’s stomach like it’s insulted him. A beat, then - “You don’t usually complain.”

“I-” Okay, true. Dipper glares anyway. “Shut up.” 

He doesn’t complain because it’s the only option. For all that Bill whines and teases and taunts Dipper, all the time, about being some ‘fragile mortal meatsack’, already rotting before his eyes, he really doesn’t like it when it’s brought forcefully to his attention. 

God, he shouldn't have said anything. Ninety-five percent of the time, there isn’t any harm to mention. But when Dipper does ends up showing he is kind of… mortal, and it’s small, he just. Doesn’t bring it up. For all that they bicker all the time, he doesn’t like to make Bill upset.

Bill grunts, mouth turned down at the corners. He stands up quickly, folding his arms. His lip curls up in a sneer. “If you wanted attention, kid, there are way better ways to-”

Oh, fuck that. Dipper flips him off, and starts storming off. 

God, this is stupid. Whenever Dipper ever breaks a bone or something, he gets teased about being so weak and vulnerable. Which he is, but neither of them like the reminder. 

These days, it also comes with some weirdly maybe-sincere ‘kiss it better’ thing that Dipper then has to disinfect. A lot of hovering, and rambling commentary. Sometimes creative descriptions of how much worse it could have been, and Dipper never needed those, at any time. Bill gets oddly fixated on such random little moments, and it’s just -

Dipper doesn’t like it, is all. Bill gets the way he gets, it’s a lot, and it’s easier just to avoid it. If he were a different guy - a human guy, or even mostly-human monster- Dipper might try to talk to him about it.

But Bill’s a demon. Not normal, barely sane even on his best days, and worse, he’s Bill, so. That conversation would go precisely nowhere.

Behind him, he hears said demon approaching, fast. Stupid jerk. He should be as tall as his real form. That’d be fair. More accurate, too, and then Dipper could properly stomp off without Bill catching up so easily.

Already the bastard is by Dipper’s side. A tall, irritating presence. Hovering close without grabbing on, which adds to said irritation. 

Dipper leans away, but Bill catches him around the waist and drags him in.

“Don’t get so grumpy, sapling, you’re fine! A little nick in the outer layer rarely killed anyone since they invented antibiotics.” Though he pinches Dipper’s cheek, he yanks his head away with a grunt. Bill sighs. “Everything’s a-okay here! Looks like I don't have to find a replacement just yet.”

Bill’s an idiot. Dipper scoffs, though an unpleasant feeling crawls in his gut. “Oh yeah? Who would you replace me with?”

“Eh, not like I got anyone specific in mind.” Bill waves that off, nonchalant. “But I have options! Lots of options.” He bumps a hip against Dipper. “Keep that in mind before you go charging off into obvious traps.”

This goddamn liar. Dipper  elbows him in the side, because the asshole deserves it. 

Not that Dipper’s worried, or anything. From what little he’s heard of Bill’s exes in the demonic rumor mill - Bill’s been, as they say, less than successful. Already Dipper’s outstripped his longest by years.. Bill can lie day in and day out about his options, put on a brave face - but they both know he’s not going to find this again. Not easily. 

“Good luck finding another husband, asshole.” Dipper says with appropriate derision. It’s annoying that Bill even brought it up. There’s a good riposte in there, somewhere - but while his brain is coming up with an insult, his mouth runs on automatic. “But I was really worried that you would last week. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all day until you sent a dick pic. It was weirdly comforting.”

Bill turns toward him with genuine surprise. He even blinks a few times, no retort emerging, and Dipper looks back at him with equal surprise. 

Until his mind catches up with what he just said. 

Dipper digs his heels in the ground, slamming to a halt. Clapping both hands to his mouth, eyes wide.

Beside him Bill nearly trips at the sudden stop, flailing for balance with a swear.

Shit, shit shit. Dipper really didn’t mean to say that. He knows Bill’s not looking around, that he’s not interested. Cynically, that he couldn’t manage it if he was. Last week was just a one-off anxiety, like all the others Dipper’s brain comes up with when it gets too much free time. Totally irrational, and really hard to stop fixating on.

Bill keeps staring. Not angry, just confused, for long enough that Dipper wants to shrink into the ground and melt into nothingness. 

Then he asks, “What the hell, Pine Tree?” 

“I don’t know! I don’t know why I thought that. I don’t know why I said that.” Dipper cringes into himself, grimacing and ducking his head. He runs a hand over his slightly sweaty face. “I didn't even want you to know I got hurt.” 

At that, Bill snorts. “Oh, please. I’d have seen that first time I got your shirt off. You can’t keep secrets from me!” 

Dipper folds his arms, internally seething - and his stupid mouth moves to say,  “I’ve done it before.” 

This time, the silence is tense.

Dipper wipes his sweating forehead again, not daring to meet Bill’s eye. God he shouldn't have -

Before he can think, he blurts out, “I think something’s wrong.” 

“Probably!” Bill agrees, with a smile just a little too sharp. He takes Dipper’s face in both hands, eye narrowed. “Hold still a sec.”

As Bill’s eye flickers blue, and the magic between them surges -  Dipper squirms a bit, but. Well. If anything’s wrong with him - magically, anyway - Bill’s the best one to diagnose it..

Bill tilts his head to one side, then the other. After a moment, his mouth twists up into something unpleasant, eye glowing slightly brighter for an instant.

Then he sighs, and lets Dipper go. His expression is neutral, except for the slightest downturn of his mouth. His lips part like he’s about to speak, then twist up into a grimace.

Uh oh.

Whatever Bill saw, he didn’t like it.

“What?” Dipper pats his head, then his chest. If there was something weird, magically about him, he - wouldn’t be able to tell, actually. He’s too close to get a good look. Oh god, what if he did hit his head too hard, and something in his brain is bleeding, or worse. “Wait. Am I dying?”

“Worse! You’re telling the truth.” Bill claps his hands together. Though he’s smiling again, it’s brittle and annoyed. “Don’t suppose you know any curse breakers that aren’t your great-uncle?”

“Not really,” Dipper admits. Bill's words catch up to him, and he bites his lip. Then, because the situation deserves it, “Fuck.”

Protection curse. The tablet.

Damn it.

A part of a horde, from a long time ago. Messed with. It should have been something less awful. Like warts, or sprouting plants from his skin, or a big fireball. Pretty much anything else would be less awful.

Truth curses are rare, they’re difficult as hell - but judging by the words spilling out of Dipper, he’s caught a pretty strong variant.

Of all the curses that could hit him. Why this one.

Hell, maybe it’s intended to be the worst curse possible for the ‘thief’. That would explain how targeted this feels. 

And knowing Dipper’s luck, that part was explained on, like, the back of the tablet.

“Welp! Good thing I’m not short on contacts, kid.” Bill grapes his shoulder, shaking him a bit, before he trails an arm over Dipper’s shoulders. “Who wants some fumbling idiot uncle to fix this kinda spell, anyway?”

Dipper would! If it was feasible. He makes a brief attempt at shrugging Bill’s arm up before letting his shoulders slump.

The idea of Ford hearing about this is….

Dipper sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Ford really would have a way around this. He'd certainly have the best intentions, Dipper’s certain. He'd...

Also not have the best sense of boundaries.

Though he'd be doing it for the right reasons, he'd ask the wrong questions. Out of concern, and arguably valid worry; he's never fully believed that Bill can't influence him. Despite how many times Dipper’s tried to explain it to him, Ford just can’t wrap his mind around certain truths.

With this curse, though. Between poor social sense, the Pines curiosity, and what Dipper might blurt out, while compelled to answer - 

On this, Dipper agrees with Bill. They’ll have to find something else to break this.

In the meantime, he’ll manage, like he has all the other times his life has sucked. Hardly the worst case scenario. If Bill had been cursed - someone who lies like he breathes -  Who knows? Give it a few days, and he might just explode from all the backed up bullshit.

“Wait.” A horrible thought strikes. Dipper reels on his husband, eyes wide. “Are you okay?”

“What, me? I’m a perfectly moral human man,” Bill says, resting a hand on his chest, lifting his chin with pride. “A boring sentient mammal who’s never found curses entertaining.” 

Yep, Bill’s fine. As always, it’s Dipper who gets the short end of the stick. 

He breathes in slowly, and lets it out. 

Yeah. Still sucks. He’ll deal. Cursed, but not dead. In danger, but not the worst - and his husband’s being annoying, which means he’s perfectly fine. There’s a solution too - it’s just going to be a huge, annoying process getting to it. 

“So,” Bill says, slowly. Drawing the word out in a long string, while he finger-walks his arm up around Dipper’s shoulder.

Uh oh.

Speaking of annoying…

“Watch it,” Dipper hunches his shoulders, not daring to look his idiot husband in the eye. “You’re this close to sleeping on the couch for a month.” Not a big enough threat, Bill’s still thinking- “Or for a year.”

“Oh, sure,” Bill says, in a distracted tone. His fingers pause on their walk, one ‘leg’ poised on Dipper’s clavicle. They hold the position for a long moment, tapping out a little marching step - and seconds later, his palm slaps down on Dipper’s shoulder. “So, Pine Tree! How do you feel about this ‘Bill Cipher’ guy?”

Though Dipper resists, and he really tries to, the words slip out past his teeth, his lips form the sounds -

“I love you.” God. Damnit. He clenches his fists, as Bill’s sheer smugness radiates from him like heat. “And I’m thinking about shoving you off a cliff right now.”

When Bill paused, Dipper thought he might have fended this off. Wishful thinking, really, Bill’s almost impossible to stop. Dipper used what leverage he had, but all he’s managed to avoid are the worst, most invasive questions.

When it comes to Bill, that’s pretty close to a win.

Not that it’s going to feel like one.

Bill has, in fact, been encouraged. Now that he’s heard something he likes, he leans in like a weird creep. Dipper can practically hear the leer in his voice. “And on a scale of one to ten, how handsome am I?

“Ten point five,” Dipper needs to loosen his jaw or he might break a filling. Being pumped for information is bad enough without pumping up Bill’s already ridiculous ego. “You bastard.” 

Bill’s chest puffs out, there’s a strut in his stride. The grin is so wide now Dipper’s pretty sure it should hurt- and if he dares to pucker up, he’s not getting lips on his awful face.  “And am I the most clever and sexually amazing guy in the universe or what?

This time, Dipper snorts. 

“Definitely not.” He ignores the sharp, indignant sound next to him, tilting his head in thought. “For one, there’s succubi and incubi, so. Sexually, you’re not even on top amongst demons.” He glances over at the offended ‘o’ of Bill’s mouth. “And I know you’re not the most clever, because I win our debates nearly half the time. Maybe you’re up there, but not the most. And that’s just the surface level stuff.”

Dipper doesn’t have a complete cosmological view of the multiverse, but he has learned a lot. Mostly stuff he picked up from his husband, and demonic gossip. It’s absolutely enough to go on a long, long ramble about how Bill most likely doesn’t rank number one in anything. If Dipper avoids the topics where he actually is.

He’s barely fifteen seconds in before Bill starts scowling, with a grumpy hunch to his shoulders - But screw him. 

Dipper starts smiling, just a bit. Then, to be a dick, he adds, 

“The ten and a half is just me, anyway. To the average human, you’re maybe an eight..” Dipper continues, over another spluttered protest. Again, true; not everyone likes the slightly inhuman maniac cyclops look. “Six with your personality.” 

Bill groans. “Ugh, you pedant.” He squeezes Dipper’s shoulder, jostling him slightly. “C’mon, you know what I meant! What’s the real - “

“Don’t ask questions if you can’t handle the answers,” Dipper warns, jabbing Bill in the chest. So far it hasn’t been too much, but it could be. Time to draw a line. “I will suck so much fun out of this for you.” 

Bill Cipher, unintentional teacher once more. Now Dipper knows the curse isn’t about perfect truth. When he can deliberately misinterpret a question’s intent, and can go on tangents  - that means he has loopholes. There might even be more, if he tries.

And if they can’t get this settled soon, he’ll need every one of those he can find.

“Clever brat.” Bill’s frowning, but he can’t disguise the amusement in his voice. His eyebrows wiggle, his arm hauling him close -  "Go ahead, then. Anything else you wanna share?"

"I know two and half ways to kill you, Bill Cipher." Dipper gets right up in his face. He won’t let Bill push this any further. "Don't tempt me to use them."

Being face to face like this, Dipper watches Bill’s eye go wide - ha, didn’t expect that, did he. With that threat, he’ll - 

Start cackling. And weirdly, turn a little pink. Dipper feels all the momentum he had whoosh out of him like sad balloon animal. 

“Boy, you are a saucy one!” Bill whistles, low. He places his hands demurely on his cheeks, fluttering his eye at Dipper with amusement. “Oh, yeah. Talk deadly to me.”

By this time, Dipper figures he should be used to stumbling into demonic flirtation. Only it turns out it’s basically fractal in nature, and he keeps running into new and newer edge cases.

“Fun as this is - we gotta get you cleared up, and no time like the present!” Bill’s calmed down enough to scoop an arm around his waist, leading Dipper onward. “Can’t have you babbling everything to everyone, y’know?”

“What, you don’t want me telling you everything?” Total bullshit. Dipper elbows him in the side. “I thought you wanted to get in my head.”

“Hey! I didn’t ask for our game to be set on ‘beginner’ mode. That’s boring.” Bill flicks his fingers - but he’s got his ‘evading questions’ look on. “You’re lucky I’m so- oof.”

Another elbow, harder this time. Bill grunts, but capitulates. Rubbing at his eye briefly, he sighs.

“So! How many of my secrets would you say you know, Pine Tree?” Bill tightens his grip on Dipper’s waist, tugging him closer. “And I’m talking about the ones that I wouldn’t enjoy getting out in the world.”

“More than I can count.” Dipper says without thinking. Then, with thinking -  “Oh.”

Dipper hadn’t considered how much Bill’s taught him, before this exact moment. How much he’s learned. Even unintentionally. Especially unintentionally. 

Crap, even his threat before was kind of - 

Shit. There’s definitely, absolutely, no way can they go to Ford about this. Total recipe for disaster.

“See? We both got liabilities in play here.” Bill moves easily as Dipper picks up the pace. If anything he’s amused, and not feeling nearly as urgent. Another reason he’s an idiot. “All we gotta do is get you patched up quick, and no more loose lips sinking ships! Easy-peasy.”

“It better be,” Dipper mutters. Nothing ever goes right for him. And by extension, them.

“Trust me, kid! I got this handled!” Bill snaps his fingers - and smacks Dipper’s butt with a wink. “I know some guys!”