#has anyone else’s brain made that connection

[h50europe]

BUCK / TOMMY - HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A FANDOM SCORNED!

I did some thinking. Never good, but my brain can't wrap around the breakup that came out of the left field.

Recently, it was announced that a spin-off of "9-1-1" is in the works. While no locations have been finalized, Hawaii and Las Vegas have been suggested as potential settings. The showrunner is already working on the project, with filming set to begin in March 2025.

However, one of my biggest fears has come true: the focus of the showrunners is being diverted from the current show to concentrate on this new spin-off. All the energy runs in the new project. Also, at this point, we don't know if the mothership will be renewed. Without an early renewal, we must wait until May for the announcement. That is another reason why they are focusing on the new show. I wonder if this is why the plots feel rushed and repetitive. It's nice to revisit the past, but not ad nauseam. 9-1-1 does it too often lately. What's the point in bringing back Gerard and turning him into the butt end of a joke? What's the point in digging out Abby's Tommy and hanging it around Tommy Kinard's neck when nothing was ever mentioned in the past. The focus is clearly not on the current show. It feels like Tim abandoned the ship to board a new one. It's fresh, it's crisp, it leaves room for a lot of things. Even if the breakup was meant as a shocker. If your focus is somewhere else, you don't see it. Right now, the mothership is leaking and starting to sink. If Tim keeps his focus on the new project and isn't invested in the current show, the lights will go out sooner rather than later.

Bringing in an established character was probably the biggest mistake Tim could have made if he wasn't meant to stick around. Bring in Mary Sue or Marty Stu to be a LI but not a character with a history that connects to so many people on the show. You can't sideline them forever. Especially as Buck's bi-arc was announced as something big. And it was big. A bit too big to be treated the way it was. The fanbase that had built around TEVAN, or BUCKTOMMY, within weeks, was massive. It drew so many members of the queer community into the show. Suddenly, many of them felt seen. Tommy and Buck were different from the other queer characters out there. Different from what was represented on any other show. People were willing to watch to get the slightest glimpse of them. Because they felt real. Their chemistry shot into the stratosphere.

And then you go and end it on such a horrible note? I don't care if the haters call Tommy a plot device. Everyone on the show is one at some point—even Christopher, Eddie, or anyone else from the main or recurrent cast, Karen, for instance, the Wilson kids. You name it. Tommy Kinard came, saw and conquered. So why not give him more room? They did it with Taylor (yes, I know JLH was pregnant then, but that's reason enough? I doubt it). As I said in my other long post, you could cut in a sequence of 5 minutes and show a summary of Tommy's and Buck's life.

Tim makes the same mistake as many showrunners do. Cramming a shitload of plots into 42 minutes of airtime. Is it really necessary to tell that many stories in such a short amount of time? That feels like speed dating. You blink, and you miss an important scene. Every episode, you jump from plot A to B to A to C to B. We didn't have this fast pacing in season 1 or 2. Stop it. Make Quality plots over quantity stuff.

In Tommy's voice: And for God's sake, clean up that mess you created with that shitty breakup, or the audience will wither away.

I'm sorry. I could write a book about what is happening in my head. You'd get Super Brownie points if you made it here.

[dseerie]

My Thoughts On Why Astarion Acts The Way He Does

While I'm waiting for Baldur's Gate 3's cloud status to upload, I've been thinking. I've seen a lot on social media about people questioning why Astarion disapproves when your character wants to save the gnomes (since they are also under an abusive master) or assisting the refugees and how he is always wanting a reward instead of just doing something nice for the sake of it. And I've talked with people who have helped me put this into better words. At least I hope. So I wanted to explain my perspective as someone who was abused when a kid/teen/even early adult.

I fought my abusers whenever I could, figuring if it was going to happen, I'd piss them off, which was satisfying. I liked seeing them hurt when bad things happened to them. I enjoyed making them suffer as I was, even if it wasn't the same as how they abused me. Then when anyone else made me angry, I wanted them to hurt (I never physically fought because I didn't want the pain, but I wished suffering upon them.). If someone started issues with a different authority figure, it annoyed me quite a bit because then I have another problem. And what if my abusers found out I was involved when I wasn't because someone I was with was upsetting the authority figure? It would become just one more issue I had to deal with. Too many details and nuances to keep track of when my mind needed to focus on the first problem. It made sense to stay on the good side of authority figures to keep myself safe and avoid trouble.

For me, something had to be worth doing or my mind just went back to worrying about sh*t, back to the fight or flight survival response. I needed that reward dopamine. Getting praises wasn't doing it for me, since I would forget the good because of the bad. Trauma brain is funny like that. I needed something physical and worthwhile to make me happy.

It's the reason why Astarion is my favorite character that I connected with the most. Not because of his beauty (not that he isn't an elegant elven man. Just that it wasn't what got me to like him. I'd lean more toward Gale or Wyll if it was by appearance for the male companions, though seeing Astarion half-naked with abs was a real shocker. I seriously thought he was a skinny elf 😳), but because he reminds me so much of how I was and how my thought-process worked. How I kept people away by being rude just enough without them wondering if they should say something to my abusers. Because no matter how many times I told people outright I was being abused early on, no one helped, only tattle-told on me.

And I haven't even completed a playthrough yet. I only just got to the Elfsong before starting a Durge playthrough. First playthrough was an asexual Tav to get to know the characters and storyline (I kid you not, I made my Tav a Charlatan rogue then discovered Astarion was also a Charlatan rogue when I was in the forge 😂). As I got to know them a bit more, Astarion intrigued me the most and when Patch 7 came out, I decided to play a Durge Romance. The first Durge both traumatized me up to Act 2 and made me adore and respect Astarion even more. So yeah, I'm romancing him on this Modded Durge Romance playthrough despite Gale having an interest in me, who is the male companion I would connect with if Astarion wasn't a companion (I'm literally just starting the Underdark area and Gale is already at 100 approval while Astarion is at 79 approval. I wish I had a library, I do have a cat, and I love me some white or pink wine 😋).

This is what my perspective of why Astarion acts the way he does. He's not bad, per say. What happened to him for 200 years has made him what he is. Nobody can fix someone else, but they can be guided to help fix themselves. I've been working to fix myself since I got out of the situation. And I want to be the one to guide Astarion toward fixing himself.

If I think of more, I'll see about adding. For now, thank you for reading. I hope you have a great day. 😊

[obsolescent]

was obsessed with dave strider at 14 and now my brain is like oh another blond dude with emo hair hi leon kennedy

[bunnihearted]

being too weird and unlikable and off putting and always being shunned and turned into an outcast everywhere i go and not having felt the connection and healing friendship has on you for so many years has really done a number on me

[akkivee]

regardless if it’s a timeskip or not i do think the new outfits signify a new chapter in their lives??? like in the case of bat:

kuukou’s still punk still monk lol but more importantly, he still has his sachihoko symbols on his haori thing. kuukou’s always changed the symbols on his coat whenever he gets a new one so it’s an important point!!! sachihoko are guardians to protect from storms so kuukou still has his protector/protection imagery

jyushi’s overcoat is still the same style but it is longer and darker and his outfit as a whole is grandiose lol like even more vkei, so i’d say this is jyushi’s final form a jyushi more true to himself and braver than ever before and ready to perform on his biggest stage yet

hitoya’s i’m not too sure actually lol but it reminds me a lot of his fit back when he helped out kuukou and jyushi. if that’s the angle then it might have him playing support for whatever he’ll be getting into as jakurai’s partner. also lends to his own knight imagery since that’s the period of time we see him as a defender

[lokissweater]

i know your name ✭

{gojo satoru x f!reader}

summary: gojo satoru was practically everyone’s god as his shiny charming reputation has followed him ever since high school and through college— his band he had with his best friend suguru packing the local college pub every night just to see him sing and play the bass. unbeknownst to you, satoru has been keeping an eye on you, and when you officially meet him right before one of his shows, satoru just about falls to his knees over you.

warnings: MDNI. college au, CAR SMUT be patient!!, fingering, squirting, a bit of oral hehe, cursing, angst, FLUFFF, FILTHY DIRTY TALK, a sprinkle of degradation, tinyyy mentions of alcohol and drinking, gojo is obsessed with reader, afab!reader, jealousy.

word count: 8.8k

authors note: oh my goodness this one took me a FAT MINUTE but it’s SO SO CUTE and i hope you all think so too!! thank you thank you for all of your notes on my works!! MWAHH.

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“please come with me to the alley, i don’t think i can handle one moron and an even bigger moron by myself.”

shoko shimmied her jacket onto her shoulders, a disgruntled and pleading look on her face as she turned to face you. “they’re only playing a few songs, and you don’t have to drink!”

you laughed softly. “who’s they?”

“suguru and satoru, they’re playing at the alley.”

“gojo satoru?”

the cogs in your brain spun as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, a bit apprehensive. the alley was the place everyone went to at your college to get drunk and laid, and it also happened to be the place where the two boys played their band almost every night— satoru mainly having connections with the owner of the bar to even allow a bunch of college kids to trash the place to begin with.

you didn’t necessarily know satoru, but in your years of observing him back in high school, you knew he was viewed by anyone and everyone as a god, his reputation shiny and impressive as he had the greatest charisma and charm you had ever seen.

you remember back to when basically every other day he was getting confessed to in the halls or in class— or after school… or literally anywhere now that you thought about it.

but satoru has never been prideful or rude, even though it was something that was supposed to be written for him being the most popular guy— but he just simply didn’t follow it.

satoru was kind. really kind. and even though he got millions of confessions per year, he treated each rejection with gentleness and respect, never turning a cold eye to anyone as he apologized profusely and tried to help them feel better.

he always volunteered to do your class banners and plan your school’s activities, festivals, and field trips so nobody else had the burden of missing out on the fun. he always helped out the gardener after school and watered the plants with them (soon after practically taking over the entire shift for free and telling them to relax on a bench), tutored his friends and peers when they asked him for help, and made anyone that felt left out feel included.

that’s why he was so popular. gojo satoru was a ray of sunshine with bright blue eyes and white ruffly hair, with a gorgeous face that you never saw without a smile— loud and obnoxious and a little clumsy, but kind.

“i still don’t know why they started a band.. but they get pretty big tips every night so i guess that’s why,” shoko muttered, sipping the last of her iced tea as she got up from her seat— the cafe you were both sitting in quiet and warm as you copied her actions and stood. “or could be because satoru likes the attention.”

you weren’t close with suguru or satoru like shoko was, and you’ve never even properly met them either, but you always listened to her whenever she’d complain and understood her completely nonetheless.

you laughed at her last comment and smiled. “i’ll go… but i can only stay for two songs! i have class at seven am tomorrow.”

she smiled wide and threw her arms around you, “thank you thank you thank you!”

you’ve never actually been to the alley before, only having heard about it through the grapevine and from your other classmates that went, parties and concerts and drinking never really on the schedule for you. you honestly loved parties and concerts, and you loved the idea of hanging out with people and doing whatever your hearts desired until the sun came up.

but ever since you started college, your high school group kind of disappeared, and now you only really have one true best friend that you preferred over anything else, that being shoko. your nights are usually always calm and filled with studying or self care, your little life quiet and independent as you navigated through the days on your own.

and although you were a bit lonely at times, yearning for another soul to share your nights with, you learned to enjoy your own company.

the alley was a couple of blocks down from the cafe you and shoko were originally at, your ears already picking up on the vibrations of guitars and drums from outside as she approached the bouncer at the front, not even being able to get a word in before the big man was already telling her no.

“no?!” shoko dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “i was literally here last week, i’m friends with the band that’s playing.”

“sorry we’re at max capacity—”

“it’s okay, they both can come in. they’re on stage with us.”

your eyes snapped to the door and you recognized geto suguru, his long jet black hair cascading down to his shoulders as he sported an all black outfit— politely smiling at the bouncer.

the man moved to the side and ushered us in, shoko’s shoulders dropping in relief as you both walked in and over to a table by the stage. “thank you suguru.”

he nodded. “if i don’t, satoru will throw another fit again and say you don’t love him if you don’t show up.”

shoko rolled her eyes and looked at you, her lips pressed into a thin line. “you see what i mean?”

“shoko!” a loud, booming and enthusiastic voice rang through the pub as you turned, spotting none other than satoru with his long arms open, more or less throwing himself on her. “you came!”

“you threatened me—”

“i did no such thing!” he sprung back. “are you not here out of the goodness of your heart? to support your two best boys living their dreams?”

“no.”

“shokooo!” he whined and you giggled, which caused him to snap his head in your direction, finally noticing your presence.

her.

“oh! hello,” he smiled kindly to you and extended his hand. “i’m satoru, and you are?”

“y/n!” you grinned sweetly and politely to him, taking his cold hand in yours and shaking it.

“are you a friend of shoko’s?”

you nodded.

he cocked his head to the side, “how come i’ve never seen you around?”

“oh i don’t go out too often, that’s probably why,” you laughed lightly, a little embarrassed by your answer.

he beamed anyways, his smile so big and brilliant that you were starting to see for yourself exactly why everyone loved him so much, not that you didn’t already know the reason behind it in the first place.

“me neither!”

satoru was still holding your hand.

“yes you do!” shoko scoffed. “you’re barely ever at your apartment and i always have to be your designated driver—”

he gawked, glaring at her. “that’s not true! i was home yesterday!”

“because you were hungover.” suguru mumbled.

you laughed again, and satoru turned back to face you, a grin on his face.

just then, a rather large group of guys started making their way towards your area, all beckoning and calling for satoru while holding up several shot glasses, his head snapping towards their direction and flashing a dazzling smile.

“satoru come!”

“satoru take some with us!”

he gently let go of your hand and raised his, waving high as he readjusted his black round sunglasses up the bridge of his nose, “give me a second! i’ll be over!”

satoru turned back to you, resuming the conversation.

“sorry, she lies. she likes to lie. i’m glad i didn’t go to high school with her.”

“yes we did— i’m going over to your followers and stealing a shot, goodbye.” shoko grumbled, throwing her purse on the table and walking away, dragging suguru along with her.

“we actually um..” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “we went to high school together.”

“oh i know.”

your eyebrows pinched together.

he knows?

“you used to water the garden on days i couldn’t afterschool, right?”

your eyes widened a little.

“oh! and you used to fix the class banners whenever i didn’t notice my fuck up, which was always.” he patted the top of your head and laughed, “thank you for that by the way.”

“you knew?” you murmured, a rosy tint to your cheeks.

“duh,” his eyes softened. “i’m sorry i never thanked you properly then.”

you shook your head dumbly, a little spaced out as you took in what he said. “no it’s okay.”

your eyes then fell to the instruments and band set up behind him, suddenly remembering that he was performing tonight.

“so what do you guys play?” you spoke up gently, hands wringing behind your back. “do you play original songs? or covers?”

“covers! 80’s covers.” he explained excitedly. “suguru and i switch off singing. i play the bass and he plays the guitar, and we have a couple of extra friends in the back playing the drums and keyboard.”

your eyes sparkled as you watched the stage set up process, black chords scattered everywhere on the ground in disarray as several individuals on the platform tuned their instruments or plucked out a few notes.

“80’s?” you perked up. “what kind of 80’s?”

“what kind?”

“yeah! morissey? the cure? new order—”

satoru was awestruck, mouth slightly parted. “you know who they are?”

you quickly nodded, a cute smile on your face.

“you like the cure?” he asked quietly.

“i love the cure.”

satoru practically had hearts in his eyes as he beamed down at you with a stupid face, his heart a little frazzled with a familiar feeling sparkling in his chest.

“satoru!”

he snapped out of his trance and spun around, suguru on stage beckoning him over. “sorry, we have to start.”

“okay!” he walked backwards as he quickly faced you again and smiled, a little frantic. “i’ll talk to you after we play! i’m gonna quiz you on it so pay attention!”

you laughed, your hand covering your mouth a bit as you nodded. “is it counting towards my grade? or is it extra credit?”

“extra credit if you go on a date with me after the show!”

you stopped.

“she can’t! moron,” shoko suddenly appeared beside you and threw an arm around your shoulder. “she’s only staying for two songs!”

gojo’s jaw dropped slack, his shoulders slumping as he got up on stage, arms out. “two?!”

you grimaced, an apologetic look on your face and kind of feeling like a lame grandma as you nodded, “i have class at seven am tomorrow!”

before he could even respond, satoru got pulled by tech crew to test out his microphone, and you and shoko gradually settled yourselves on the high bar stool chairs at your table.

“odd,” she muttered with a funny look on her face.

“hm? what is?” your eyes switched to hers.

“satoru’s never asked a girl out before.”

your eyes bulged open. “never?”

“never.” shoko sipped a little at her beer and gave you a comforting smile. “i’ve always seen girls try it with him and ask him out or simply just follow him around like a lost dog, but he’s never gone after anyone.”

you watched a little smirk spread across her face, and your hands grew a tiny bit sweaty as you swallowed thickly.

“if you’re interested in him, there’s a line. but i think you have a head start.”

the music started— suguru introducing himself, satoru, and the band calm and pleasantly before they began playing their first song. it was loud and rhythmic, vibrations murmuring through the floor as your glass of water shook on the table with every note.

they weren’t bad at all— they were actually pretty good, really good, and you found yourself not really wanting to admit it since it seemed like satoru was good at a million different things regardless of category or genre.

“do they have a name for their band?!” you yelled over the music, leaning your frame a little closer to her without taking your eyes off of the stage.

shoko snorted, “the strongest monkeys.”

you threw your head back and laughed loudly, looking at her incredulously. “really?!”

as he performed on stage, satoru noticed you laugh and he smiled against the microphone, a vision he connected back to high school, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he was internally a little unsteady as your pretty eyes watched him play and sing— feeling embarrassed whenever he would trip over a chord clumsily like he seemed to do at every freaking show, but feeling better seeing as it made you giggle.

by the end of their second song, you showed shoko the time on your phone and tried to stand as discretely as possible in attempts at not disturbing anyone around you, grabbing your purse from the arm of your chair and swinging it over your shoulder.

but when you looked up, satoru was already looking at you as suguru spoke through the microphone, his eyes wide and pleading as he held up his index finger.

“one more song!” he mouthed. “please.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip anxiously, your eyes darting around the pub and back to the time on your phone before they landed again on satoru.

“stay.” he mouthed again.

and for reasons you couldn’t explain, your body pulled you back down on the stool and you sat— shoko quirking an eyebrow at you in confusion.

satoru’s face broke out into the brightest smile, a smile equivalent to the blinding rays of the sun as he pushed up his round sunglasses and gave you a cute thumbs up.

“thank you.”

and your heart stuttered.

you eventually decided to stay for the rest of the show, seeing as it was already late as fuck anyways— and they played few more songs then, a mix of well known 80’s songs as well as a few underrated ones, your head nodding gently to the beat and swaying your little shoulders. in the midst of it, satoru had been watching and glancing in your direction so many times throughout the show, that he subconsciously started mimicking your little shoulder sway on stage as he performed.

college girls screamed practically every five minutes when the boys did anything, some even going as far as running up the platform and reaching up for satoru’s hands or ankles as he played, him smiling bright at each and every one of them with shoko shaking her head in disappointment— her forehead falling to the palm of her hand as you laughed.

ironically by the end of it, the band closed with the cure, and as the crowd dispersed and several took their leave from the alley— some shouting words of praise at the boys, you and shoko stood and walked over to the stage. satoru in a heartbeat noticed you coming over and hooked his mic quickly back on the mic stand, tossing the strap of his bass over his shoulders and setting it down before hopping off stage.

“did you like it?” he panted hopefully, trying to catch his breath as his forehead glistened with sweat, his hands on his hips.

you smiled gently. “i did! good job, you both played really great songs.”

suguru gave you a small smile in gratitude from the platform as he unplugged and untangled a few chords— and satoru beamed, nodding. “i’m glad! okay, here comes your quiz!”

“oh god.”

“we played the cure at the end…” satoru dragged out.

“mhm…”

“what song?” he tilted his head to the side, and your cheeks went pink as you grinned.

“pictures of you,” you replied softly. “it’s my favorite one.”

satoru’s forehead fell to rest against your shoulder, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“i would expect nothing less from you, y/n.”

you hummed out a laugh, and his heart did a tiny somersault at the sound before he picked his head back up and looked at you softly.

“thank you for staying.”

shoko bounded over to you then and looped her arm through yours. “ready to go?”

you nodded quickly before smiling sweetly at satoru. “i’ll see you around! thank you for—”

“wait!” he shot his arms out frantically with wide eyes. “what about our date?”

you froze. “our date?”

“unless you want the quiz to count towards your grade…” he mumbled lowly, eyes darting on everything and everywhere except you with pinky cheeks.

“i didn’t think you were being serious about that..” you spoke gently.

his eyebrows furrowed. “why not?”

“because you’re gojo satoru,” shoko butt in.

you quickly flicked her forehead— your lips pressed into a thin line, earning a little laugh from satoru as you turned your head to look at him again.

“i have an early class tomorrow… ill see you around though, okay?”

without thinking, satoru reached over and placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you to face him.

“let me take you to class.”

shoko and suguru exchanged a look and your lips parted, eyebrows pinching together.

“what?”

“i’ll take you to class in the morning,” he looked desperate. “and i won’t count the quiz towards your grade.”

you were skeptical, very skeptical, unsure of what satoru wanted from you in this situation. you had just met him, properly at least, and though you knew he was a good person, you weren’t sure if that was still relevant in the field of picking up girls.

you looked to shoko, who shrugged, and your eyes landed back to satoru’s pleading one’s, your entire body and soul hesitating.

“i—” you gnawed at your bottom lip, a nervous habit as you took in the way he looked like a sad little puppy the longer you took to respond, your heart not having the ability to ever say no to anyone, ever. not even him.

“okay.”

his shoulders relaxed, and he let out a puff of relieved air as he gave you the biggest smile, nodding hopefully.

“okay! h—here-” he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “if i could— if i could have your number? and i’ll text you when im on my way and stuff…”

you shakily took satoru’s phone, the screen already opened up to the ‘add contact’ feature as you typed in your number before passing it back to him.

“thank you!” he beamed. “i’ll see you tomorrow then?”

he was so excited, and you really didn’t know why, but you couldn’t help but give him a sweet smile of yours in return, nodding.

“see you.”

when you finally arrived home that night, it didn’t take satoru even ten minutes after that to text you.

(unknown): i have good news for you miss y/n

you stared at your phone, your heart jumping a bit as you typed back a response.

(you): and i have bad news for you satoru

(satoru): WHAT

(satoru): ok wait me first

(satoru): congrats you passed my class!! that quiz bumped up your grade from 0% to 100% ur so smart

(satoru): but if your bad news is you rejecting me i’m FAILING you

(you): HAHAHAHA

(you): silly silly

(you): my bad news was that i always have banana milk on my way to school in the mornings and unfortunately i don’t have any extra for you :(

(you): i ran out ;(

within the two minutes that it took for you to respond with your declared bad news, satoru was absolutely shitting it, wholeheartedly believing you were going to reject him and leave him to dramatically rot away all alone.

he replied quickly, a goofy smile on his face.

(satoru): that’s literally the only reason why i asked you out :(

(you): and how do you know i have banana milk in the mornings before school?

(satoru): OH

(satoru): SO ABOUT TOMORROW

you giggled, wiping the last of your makeup off and turning off your vanity light before jumping into bed, snuggling into your covers as the cool air softly touched your face from your open window.

(you): *address*

(you): pick me up at 6:30 please, if that’s okay :)

(satoru): i’ll pick you up at six miss y/n

(you): SIX WHY

(satoru): for a breakfast date silly!! okay goodnight xoxo

you hadn’t even realized the huge stupid smile on your face until your rosy cheeks started to ache.

(you): HAHAHA

(you): goodnight <3

a heart?!

satoru stuffed his face into his pillow, feeling like little love birdies were flying around his head and pecking at his hair.

the following morning, you ran your fingers through your hair and probably fixed your outfit a million trillion times before you were satisfied, a huge lump in your throat as you gnawed so much at your bottom lip that it drew blood.

you were nervous, but why? you didn’t know why. maybe because it was gojo satoru picking you up. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t had a guy try to hit on you in what felt like a decade, the last time really being the last day of high school when you randomly found a note in your locker, the words literally illegible.

maybe it was the fact that satoru was the most handsome man you have ever seen.

but so was he to everybody else.

(satoru): i’m outside! :]

you wiped your clammy hands on your legs and stood, hiking your school bag further up your shoulder before walking down the stairs and out the door, seeing satoru seated in his car in your driveway.

you timidly opened the door to the passenger side and stepped in.

“hi!” he greeted cheerfully and proceeded to place his hand on the back of your headrest as he backed out, looking through his rear view mirror.

“hi!” you said gently. “you’re not tired?”

“nuh uh,” he smiled at you. “i had three energy drinks before i got you.”

your head instantly whipped in his direction. “satoru— three?!”

he giggled at your reaction, the sides of his blue eyes crinkling as he patted your head. “don’t worry silly, i’ve had maybe five at a time before—”

“five?!”

you slumped against the passenger seat and closed your eyes. “satoru, you’re gonna develop heart problems if you keep this up.”

“nah,” he reached into the backseat, his eyes still on the road. “i’m the strongest.”

and you snorted then, watching him retrieve two small bottles of juice from the back without taking his eyes off of the road.

“i got us orange juice— wait do you like orange juice? oh fuck maybe—”

you giggled and waved him off, taking both bottles from his hands. “it’s okay! i do like orange juice, thank you.” you settled them on your lap neatly. “i’ll hold them while you drive.”

“aww thanks sweets,” he murmured affectionately, and your face instantly went warm to the touch.

“i also got us breakfast bagels so we can sit and people watch before your class—” his eyes snapped to yours. “if— if that’s okay.”

your heart skipped a beat at his planning, nodding as you reached into your school bag and pulled out a little yellow carton, holding it out for him as he drove.

satoru tore his gaze away from the road momentarily and looked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“your daily morning banana milk?”

you smiled softly, nudging it towards him. “for you.”

he physically melted as he looked at your sweet sweet face and back towards the road.

“you’re giving up your banana milk— for me?”

you tore off the straw from the back of the milk box, sticking it through the little opening and offering it to him again.

“yup yup.”

he bit his lower lip as he gratefully took the milk box from you, giddy and flustered on the inside as he took tiny sips.

“an absolute delicacy, thank you miss y/n.”

before you even realized it, satoru was already pulling in to the campus parking lot, shifting his gear into park and turning off the ignition before opening his door.

“don’t move!” he sputtered suddenly. “don’t touch that door hold on—”

he slammed his door shut and you watched quizzically as he ran across the front of the car and opened the door for you, flashing an award winning smile that could shatter the earth if he wanted to.

you still couldn’t piece together why he was doing so much for you or why he was interested in the first place, but as you watched him set up the breakfast bagels cutely as you both sat on the bench, him carefully handing you yours along with your orange juice, you didn’t really have the heart to ask him why.

maybe it was the more selfish side of you, the one that always longed to share little moments like this with another being, the one that always spent her days alone watching movies or doing little crafts in her room to keep the time going, a bittersweet feeling in your chest every time you saw your classmates or casual friends post about their parties or outings.

you hadn’t realized that you didn’t respond to whatever satoru had said, and you snapped out of it.

“fuck— i’m sorry satoru, i spaced out.” you laughed softly. “what were you saying?”

he stared at you, his eyes examining your face. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?”

“what were you thinking about?”

“it was— it was nothing,” you took a sip of your orange juice. “i forgot.”

satoru shoved his face close to yours, your breath hitching and your cheeks growing pink as you watched his eyes scan every part of you, his expression concerned.

“something’s bothering you,” he hummed. “am i being too forward? i’m— i’m sorry sometimes i don’t even realize—“

“no!” you shot your arms out frantically and placed them on his shoulders, “no, it’s not that, you’re okay satoru. everything you’ve done has been really nice, so thank you.”

your voice was so sweet as you spoke to him, and even though it made him feel better to some degree, he still couldn’t shake the empty and sad look he saw on your face when you were spaced out.

he slowly retreated back and hesitantly nodded as you placed your hands back on your lap, your fingers then tearing a piece from your breakfast bagel and plopping it into your mouth.

“did you ever find…” he spoke in between bites. “a note in your locker the last day of high school?”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “how do you know about that?”

he swallowed, a sheepish look on his face. “that was me. i put that note in.”

your eyes widened as your body completely froze over, putting your bagel down— the wrapper crinkling underneath as you did so.

“really?”

satoru nodded, his flushed cheeks prominent on his pale skin as he suddenly found his bagel super interesting to look at.

“what did it say?”

he looked at you baffled. “what did it say? what do you mean?”

you giggled then, your hand covering your mouth as you leaned forward a little bit. “i could— i could barely read it. the handwriting-“

“oh my fucking god!” satoru threw his arms up in despair. “that explains so much. i was so sad i straight up thought you hated me.”

you stopped. “what do you mean?”

“i wrote my name and how i thought you were really pretty, and then i wrote my number at the bottom.” he dropped his shaking head in his hands, laughing. “but i wrote it really fast because i saw you coming so i just stuffed it in there.”

he slumped over his legs on the bench, his elbows on his knees as he moaned.

“you think i’m pretty?” you asked softly.

he turned his head to the side as he was hunched over, sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he smiled gently. “very.”

gojo satoru thought you were pretty.

you smiled cutely at him, reaching out and pushing his sunglasses back up his eyes, yours warm and endearing. “silly.”

you leaned back on the bench and giggled. “to be fair satoru, even if i was able to read your note, i probably would’ve thought it was a prank.”

“a prank? why?” his shoulders deflated, an unamused look on his face. “because i’m ‘gojo satoru’ like shoko said—”

“no,” you pushed. “because you’re a good person. you always go above and beyond for others and i’ve seen that as long as i’ve known you.”

you crossed a leg over the other and smiled softly. “and because of that i’m really not sure why you like me satoru, i haven’t really done anything special but—”

“what you just said is a crime. the way you think about me is the way i think about you.” he cut in, eyes serious. “you think you don’t do anything special? i literally watched you all through high school bend over backwards for people, for me, like i did,“ he sighed through his nose. “but your intentions were genuine and pure, mine were not.”

he finished the last of his bagel and crumpled up the wrapper into a ball, tossing it in the trash can next to him as he leaned back.

satoru swallowed. “i feel like if i don’t do the things that i do for people, ill end up disappointing everyone i know. i feel like everyone’s built this image of me that i don’t even know where the fuck it came from—” he shook his head. “but i don’t want to tarnish that. i don’t want to let people down. so i just let them ask me for stuff. i don’t even like going out that much either, believe it or not. i just go when they call.”

he crossed his arms. “whenever people do do something in return for me, it’s like i’m forever in their debt and they’re always expecting something from me back.”

your sad eyes softened, the confession in front of you a reaction from him you realized must’ve been buried deep deep down his chest— without any prior chance of resurfacing until this very moment.

you never thought about his situation this way. you would’ve never thought that satoru could’ve felt like this about his own reputation, something you guiltily believed was a thing he was absolutely floored over.

“you never expected anything back from me though,” he murmured. “you fixed my fucked up banners and switched around reservations when i absentmindedly chose the wrong thing for our school field trips, and you never said a word about it to me or anyone, and you didn’t expect anything back.”

he finally turned his bright blue eyes in your direction, and looked at you so deeply, so sincerely, that your mind went completely blank.

“that’s why i like you,” satoru bashfully scratched his cheek. “you do special things everyday and— and i was moved.”

there was a moment of silence, satoru staring at the ground as you stared at him, a delicate and insecure side of him unfolding before you that you don’t think anyone has ever seen, and you intended to keep it that way— wanting this special moment selfishly just for you.

you slowly leaned forward then as you made him look at you.

“its natural for you to be upset and think indifferently about people walking all over you, toru. it doesn’t mean you’re not genuine or pure.”

raising your arm, you poked his pink cheek gently and gave him a little comforting smile. “it actually only further solidifies to me how much of a good person you are. because even though people take advantage of your kindness, you help them with what they need regardless, and do way more.”

his eyes softened.

“at the end of the day, even though it makes you a little mad, you want to help people, because if you didn’t, you simply wouldn’t do it.”

you nudged his shoulder playfully with yours, “but not anymore, okay? from now on when people are blatantly taking advantage of how nice you are, you have to draw a line they can’t cross.”

he smiled wide.

“i’d let you cross it.”

“no not even me,” you shook your head. “not that’d i’d ever anyways.”

he looked at you, and then unexpectedly, satoru slowly leaned in and pressed a delicate, soft kiss to your cheek— his lips lingering there greedily for a few seconds more before pulling away, your shocked bright pink cheeks making him burst out laughing.

you missed class without even realizing, but you didn’t have an ounce of care in your body, seeing as satoru was worth more than anything from that point on.

since then you both hung out a lot more, and you still had your little quiet nights of self care, arts and crafts, and movies— except now, satoru was present in every activity.

satoru longed for your lifestyle, and you longed for his— so the act of watching movies together until two in the morning, making horrific origami bird shapes that never looked like the pictures in the instruction manual and laughing, sorting through his 80’s cd collection in his apartment while he sampled a few for you on his bass, and singing the cure so loud through his car sunroof while he drove you aimlessly at night with a strong grip on your thigh, were all a perfect blend of exactly what you both needed most.

it was several months of spending every waking moment together that you soon eventually became a little thing with satoru. there wasn’t an official label, and you guys hadn’t even kissed, but the longer than normal embraces, kisses on each others cheeks, and intertwined fingers everywhere you went was an obvious sign that something was there.

you picked up on how people looked at you more often rather quickly ever since satoru started bringing you around his circle, wondering how you came out of nowhere and captured his attention when thousands had tried for years.

and though most welcomed you with open arms and kind smiles, the majority of his girl fan base was bitter.

shoko often told you to just shake it off and not pay any mind to it, saying that it was a bunch of mean girls with nothing better to do, but it got a little harder once a pretty black haired girl named lina started grabbing satoru for conversations almost every night at the alley.

and today was no different.

“hi sweets!” satoru greeted you enthusiastically, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek as you arrived early to the pub to help him and suguru set up for tonight’s show. “you look very pretty today.”

“thank you!” you smiled wide and leaned up on your tippy toes, your body automatically pulling your lips to his until you quickly steered them to the corner of his mouth, pecking lightly before settling back down on the soles of your feet.

that wasn’t the first time you had almost accidentally kissed him, but it wasn’t just you, as satoru slipped up almost every second of every day when you both were together— the thought making you laugh internally as you followed him to the stage.

“don’t help out this time—” he pleaded gently with you as he took a high barstool chair for you and dragged it closer to the stage. “i want you to just sit and be pretty.”

you tilted your head to the side. “why toru? i don’t mind helping out i like it—”

“no i know!” he smiled sweetly at you. “but i want you to just sit there and relax and not lift a finger tonight. you’ll hurt yourself if you do.”

you giggled softly and nodded, hopping up on the stool and wringing your fingers together on your lap as you watched satoru set up his amp and readjust his mic stand, gnawing on your bottom lip as you watched the way his biceps and chest looked in his black compression tee.

“are you thirsty sweets?” he asked, his eyes trained to the ground as he untangled a bunch of chords and threw them behind him. “i can get you something from the bar?”

“oh no!” you shook your head quickly. “it’s okay toru you’re busy—”

satoru hopped off the stage and jogged over to the bar, him exchanging a few words with the bartender that you couldn’t quite make out until he jogged back over with a cold glass of sugary iced tea, placing it on your table under a coaster.

“for you.”

you smiled sheepishly, “thank you.”

“if you need—”

“satoru! hey!”

you snapped your head over to the entrance and saw lina, her wave a little flirty as she bounced over to the both of you.

lina only spared you a glance before her sparkling suggestive eyes landed back on satoru.

“oh hey?” he looked over at the clock on the wall. “im sorry, the alley doesn’t open for another two hours—”

“oh i know!” she twirled a strand of hair with her fingers. “i just wanted to stop by and see if you needed any help? you know, setting up?”

what.

your eyebrows pinched together and you looked at satoru, waiting for his answer.

“oh! um— sure! thanks!” he smiled at her, and you felt a pang of annoyance through your chest as you watched him lead her on stage and give her directions, much like how he did for you when you helped out.

you crossed a leg over the other and looked away.

satoru wasn’t your boyfriend, so it wasn’t like you could say anything or feel the way that you did… but then again, isn’t he kind of? you didn’t know, and the more you wracked your brain to try and figure out what exactly the both of you were, the angrier you got at the situation in front of you.

satoru flashed lina his world famous dazzling smile, cracked joke after joke and made her laugh, helped her when she went “confused” and helpless, and even showed her basic chords on his bass when she asked.

you pursed your lips, eyes narrowed. satoru was smiling at her the way he smiled at you and cracking jokes the way he joked with you, and your jealousy only grew as you let your mind wander if the way satoru treated you was actually anything significant if he was willing to do it for some random girl.

you sat there for what had felt like forever, people starting to pile in for the show as the alley opened, and you hopped off the stool bitterly to cool off in the restroom, not bothering to let satoru know.

just as you got in line, you felt a hand tug at your wrist.

“y/n!”

you turned around and spotted shoko, smiling until she took in your annoyed expression.

“what’s wrong?”

“lina,” you muttered.

“oh god,” shoko leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “what the fuck is she doing now?”

“satoru help me, satoru how many chords does a bass have? satoru you’re so good at singing! satoru you owe me after this!” you mimicked, your heart heavy as you let shoko lead you back to your table.

“she’s getting braver,” she muttered. “say the word y/n and i’ll fake trip and spill my drink on her it’s easy—”

you snorted, “no no, it’s okay shoko. if satoru wants to let himself be drooled over and do nothing about it in respects to me, he can be my guest.”

the show started, girls already screaming and running up the stage with, of course, lina front and center by satoru, jumping and wiggling her sick fingers up at him.

satoru was like he normally was at his shows— attentive to everyone and being just who he is, but what ticked you off more than usual was how much attention he was paying to lina, way more than the rest, and you couldn’t even watch the stage anymore when satoru reached down and held her hand for a moment, not once glancing up at you.

you were done.

“i think i’m gonna go!” you shouted to shoko over the music.

“what?!” shoko grabbed your arm. “don’t go! it’s almost over! i wanna see you chew him out!”

you laughed and shook your head. “i can’t stand being here, and he clearly doesn’t care whether i’m here or not right now so—”

more screams.

both of your heads snapped to the source.

lina was on stage with him.

you scoffed and grabbed your purse, ignoring shoko’s protests as you pushed your way through the crowd and away from the stage.

when satoru finally decided to scan for you through the pub, his eyebrows furrowed as he saw your seat empty and shoko glaring straight murderous daggers at him.

“where is she going?” he mouthed to shoko.

“home!” she spat loudly, getting up herself and disappearing through the crowd.

satoru’s eyes immediately widened, his fingers clammy and numb as he started to pluck the wrong notes, suguru giving him a weird look.

“carry the show without me,” satoru quickly told him, frantic. “please, i have to go.”

suguru nodded and waved him off, seeming like he knew why satoru’s skin was sickishly pale as he carried on calmly.

it wasn’t like you to just leave without him or not tell him anything, so as he threw the strap of his bass over his shoulders and handed it to a tech member, he hopped off stage and ran through the crowd, ignoring their pleas of protest or the tugging he felt at his clothes.

you were halfway down the parking lot when you heard the pub door slam open and footsteps running towards you.

“sweets!—” satoru yelled. “hey- where are you going?!”

“home!” you yelled over your shoulder, arms crossed as you kept walking.

satoru’s stomach dropped.

“y/n!” he caught up to you and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around as he tried to catch his breath. “why? are you okay?”

“just fine!” you spat. “why don’t you go back on stage and drool all over lina—”

“lina?” he gawked. “drool? what are you talking—”

you shrugged his hands off of your shoulders. “do you not see how she’s been all over you for what seems like fucking months?! and you just let her! i’ve been ignoring it but today you really pissed me off—”

you turned away again and he immediately grabbed your waist with his hands, pulling you back.

“hey- no. tell me what i did okay just tell me—”

you scoffed. “you really don’t see it? first of all she came to the alley two fucking hours early today, and then she’s all over you and you’re all over her and you’re smiling at her and making her laugh like you do with me, and then she’s playing the little damsel in distress helping you set up while i just sat there and watched—”

“all over her?” his eyes narrowed. “i couldn’t give less of a shit about lina—”

“apparently you do!” you moved away from him, his hands falling from your hips. “because she’s giving you the ‘i wanna fuck you eyes’ every two seconds, and you’re holding her hand while you’re on stage, and then you literally pulled her on?! what the fuck am i supposed to think with that?!”

“i didn’t pull her on she jumped on!” satoru exclaimed, his arms out. “i’m sorry sweets that i didn’t notice okay i really am, but have you stopped to think that maybe i didn’t notice because i don’t care about her? i—”

“satoru you’ve been completely ignoring me the minute she got here—”

“toru.” he cut you off, voice firm. “it’s toru not satoru.”

you stopped, frustrated and hurt tears slowing brimming your eyes as you looked at him. “maybe you being a little flirt for everyone was okay before, but the minute you decided to butter me up and kiss my cheeks and call me sweets, that should’ve been over.”

“it is!” he exclaimed. “it’s been over! it never even started in the first place!”

“yes it did! you think i haven’t been watching how you are with people since high school?— you know what i’m done. i’m leaving.”

you sniffled and spun around again, but satoru only grabbed your wrist tightly and wrung you back.

“you think i haven’t been watching you?! i’ve loved you since fucking high school god dammit! i’m obsessed with you! when we officially met at the alley and i introduced myself i already knew your name and you know that! i don’t give a single living fuck about lina or anyone else but you! it’s always been you!”

you wiped your tears roughly with your sleeve.

gojo satoru loved you.

“so no. you’re not done. please don’t cry. all i’ve ever wanted was you and i let you slip through my hands in high school because i was a coward, and id rather die than let you slip through my fucking hands again and lose you over a stupid fight when i just got you!—”

“you’re not losing me i’m not going anywhere toru where the hell are you getting that from?!” you exclaimed.

“thank fuck then, so what are we still doing?! i’d cut everyone in my life off if you asked me to!—”

“no don’t do that! i was just jealous okay and i’m— and i’m angry—”

“okay but do you love me?!” he pushed angrily.

“yes! of course i do you know that!”

“okay so do i baby so what the fuck are we still fighting for?!”

“i don’t know!”

“stop giving me your little attitude then and come kiss me!”

your lips instantly collided with his as you threw your arms around his neck, fast hurried kisses that knocked the wind out of you as you both hungrily and fiercely tried to swallow each other’s lips, satoru tapping the back of your thighs and signaling you to jump on him.

you immediately sprung up and wrapped your legs around his waist, him holding you tight as he carried you over to his car and leaned you against the backseat door, his lips messily licking and swiping over yours as he seemed drunk on the taste of your sweet spit alone.

satoru dug through his pockets without breaking from your lips and found his keys, unlocking his car with a tap of a button and gently lowering you inside, him scrambling in after you and slamming the door shut, locking it.

he towered over you as he latched his lips back on yours, you laying flat on your back with your legs spread, satoru’s big cold hands on the sides of your thighs as he slowly slid your tiny little denim skirt further up— right up until he felt your silky panties under his fingertips.

“i gotta—” he said in between kisses. “take them off—”

you nodded quickly. “please take them off—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish before he practically tore your panties down your legs and stuffed them in his back pocket, his breathing erratic.

“oh my goodness,” he spread your legs gently, eyes completely wide and glazed over as he looked at your slick and shiny pussy. “you’re so pretty baby, just like how i pictured you.”

he ran a finger down your slit and your hips jumped, your teeth biting down on your lower lip as you let out a symphony of whines that satoru wanted to record on his phone and play morning, noon, and night for himself and his dick.

he stared mesmerized at your fuzzy pink cheeks and swollen wet lips as he slowly rubbed over your clit, you immediately grabbing his unoccupied hand and sticking his middle finger in your mouth to suck in response.

“oh my god—” he threw his head back, his delicious adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. “you’re gonna make me cum in my fucking pants.”

he felt you bob your head up and down slowly on his finger and his head snapped down, eyes widening as he watched you act like a little slut for him, his hands with a mind of their own as he inserted his unoccupied middle finger in your slurping hole.

you let out a muffled gasp through the digit in your mouth and you spread your legs wider, his long and mouthwatering finger pumping in and out of you slowly, satoru’s body literally shivering at the sounds of your warm squelching pussy.

“listen to her baby…” he hummed. “she’s so fucking loud for me… how embarrassing.”

“toruuu,” you whined at his teasing, clamping your legs shut as you felt the tip of his finger hit that sweet spot in your walls that made your toes curl.

“open your legs.” he demanded. “who said you could close them, hm? i sure fucking didn’t.”

satoru picked up the pace and slipped in his ring finger without warning, your walls stretching and filling up as he abused your little cunt rapidly.

“you ever squirted before baby?” he huffed out, lips eating up your neck as you shuddered, your body jolting up and down at how fast he was fingering you.

you shook your head dumbly. “n—no, i don’t think i can—”

satoru laughed and bit your neck meanly. “yes you can sweets, your little pussy was just waiting for me to do it.”

he went even faster, a series of slap slap slap’s filling the car as his palm and digits hit your cunt repeatedly, sticky and soppy as he moaned over and over in your ear, absolutely intoxicated with the sloshing noises of your pussy and the way it was speaking to him, satoru utterly and incandescently obsessed with everything that was you.

“m—my god—” he panted, his pace brutal and animalistic as his long fingers rapidly plunged into your gummy hot hole, his tongue licking and slopping all over the side of your neck, your moans straight up filthy as the windows of his car fogged up.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—” he dragged his mushy kisses from your neck up to your chin and back to your lips. “be my girlfriend—” slap slap slap— “p-please be my girlfriend be my girlfriend i need you so bad i c-can’t live without you anymore—”

you eagerly nodded, your thighs shaking as you gripped his shoulders and tried to keep up with his kisses that swallowed your lips up hole. “y-yes— mph! i will toru i will—”

his car shook violently as he fucked your cunt with his fingers without mercy, an unfamiliar intense feeling bubbling up at the pit of your stomach as he did so, your entire pussy pulsing and swollen as you squealed, massive droplets of liquid spraying all over satoru and the leather seats of his car.

“fuck yes baby, give me what i want that’s it—”

satoru groaned so loudly as you squirted, him jerking his nasty fingers to selfishly get more out of you.

“thaaaats it sweets—” he panted, slowing down. “that’s it.”

you evidently blacked out at this point, your brain misty and distorted as you tried to come down from your delirious high, a high you’ve never ever felt before with your own digits.

satoru licked his fingers raunchily and lowered his face to your pussy, cleaning up any remnants and left over drops on your thighs and pussy with his perverted tongue, your body jerking and you whining again as you shut your thighs closed in overstimulation.

he came back up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before flashing you the biggest most innocent smile, as if he didn’t just absolutely destroy your cunt minutes ago without grace.

slowly, you regained a sense of direction and finally looked at him properly as he sat down and pulled you gently up by his arms, your body practically limp as he settled you on his lap and hugged you affectionately, his cheek squished up against your forehead.

“so can you squirt or what.” he teased softly, a smile still on his face.

you giggled shyly and buried your face in his neck. “i made a mess.”

“that’s literally what i wanted don’t even start.” he mumbled, and you laughed again, louder this time.

“were you serious about me being your girlfriend?” you asked suddenly, your voice smaller and timid. satoru pulled back and tilted his head, catching your eyes with his.

“of course i was,” he said quietly. “i literally begged you while my fingers were knuckle deep in—”

you covered your face with your hands and laughed with a whine. “stop! okay okay! i get it.”

you took your face away from his neck and looked at him properly, tilting your head cutely as your eyes shined and sparkled with affection, him giving you the same look back as you leaned up and pecked his lips lovingly.

“you know…” you began. “when we first properly met and you asked me out that night, shoko told me there was a line i had to stand in if i was interested in you.”

satoru snorted, his eyebrows raised. “a line?”

you nodded. “mhm. you literally can’t pretend there isn’t one toru… and lina is in it too,” you finished off, snickering.

he rolled his eyes and huffed, feigning annoyance, but when he looked at you again, he only smiled and stared at you like you hung the moon and stars yourself, a blush to his pale cheeks that never seemed to go away as long as you were around.

“line or not—” he sincerely spoke.

“you’ve always been the first one.”

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 2

If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!

But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”

Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”

“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.

Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.

He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.

That's still a very big if.

“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”

Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.

“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”

Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”

He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.

The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.

Trying to scare them off indeed.

“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”

“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”

Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”

The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.

Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?

Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”

He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.

“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”

One tap to the comm. No.

Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.

The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.

Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”

If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.

Masterpost

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby trope Simon Riley / female reader

You’re startled.

He can tell just by the way your eyes pinch at the corners, your shoulders high and tight beneath your ears. You’re flustered, you’re stressed, rubbing small circles on the baby’s back, playing with the hem of the their hat.

Your discomfort, the unease radiating from your frame, combined with the saw blade currently buzzing through his brain, nearly makes him dizzy.

Still, even in this moment, you leave him breathless. He feels the same itch, the same swell of emotion as he looks at you, drinking every single detail in like a starved man.

He tries, and tries to make the connection.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

What does that mean?

It feels monumental, feels like there’s a black hole opening in his stomach, sucking his heart out into the universe to be obliterated.

It’s just there on the cusp, teetering on the edge.

I didn’t know how to contact you.

“I’m uh,” the baby’s tiny arm flings out a little fist towards your chest, and slide your finger into their grip, smoothing your thumb across, what he imagines, is very soft skin. “Do you have a minute?”

He nods wordlessly.

The cafe is quiet.

Simon can’t see the baby’s face. They have your complexion, your hair… but he doesn’t know what they look like. Not really. He doesn’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl.

He doesn’t know anything, and inside this out of control situation, he yearns for it. The plan. The knowledge, the ability to plot and counter plot the next move.

This… instability, this lingering question in the air-

fills him with fear.

An earl grey sits in front of you, spiraled steam curling in the air across the table, where you’re rocking a little bit, side to side, swaying like a sailor.

You worry your lip between your teeth. "I know this is kind of... a shock." He blinks. "I tried to find you, I scoured social media, I went back to the to the pub and asked if anyone knew you, I had them look through all their credit receipts from that night, but... everything was a dead end. It was like you were a ghost." His lips twitch.

"Why?" He thinks he knows, thinks he understands now, but he needs to hear you say it, needs to watch your lips form the words. You stare down at the table before taking a long, deep breath, placing your hand protectively against the back of the baby's head.

"This is your son, Simon."

And there it is.

He's a dad. There's a tiny life, a tiny piece of him, in this world now.

He's a father. A father, to a son, just like his brother was. A father, to a son, like his own father was, and his father before that. A vicious, endless cycle. One his brother vowed to break, and did.

One that terrifies Simon now.

The first words out of his mouth are unintentional, and cruel. "Are you sure?" He winces as soon as it splays out in the silence, and you wilt into a shade of embarrassment.

"I uh, yeah. I'm sure. The pill isn't foolproof and we weren't exactly... careful. I... um... there's no one else." You grimace, averting your eyes, and his stomach clenches.

"I didn't mean-"

"It's fine." You wave it off, keeping him at arms length. You keep your gaze down, and he curses himself. Making a mess of it already.

He's very good at compartmentalizing. It comes with the job, always has, but in this moment, he's struggling to stopgap the flow of consciousness that seems to be melding together by the minute. Worry, panic, fear all roar at the forefront, but beneath them, buried by mountains of darkness- shines something unexpected.

Happiness. Hope.

A baby.

Something possessive thrums inside him, beats in the veins of his heart. It's reverent, identical to way he felt the first night he met you, the night the two of you made him. Together.

You had his baby. You did. The girl who was everything. The sweet girl who took him like you were made for him.

No matter what happens, no matter where you go, he'll always be the man who gave you a baby. Who gave you his son.

It's sick, how pleased he feels. How satisfied. Something long buried in the genetics of human beings, now rearing its head inside his own.

You were everything, and now- you always will be.

His throat is suddenly very tight, nose stinging with effort to allay his emotions. "What's his name?"

"Orion." You smile, timidly, but tears shine in your eyes. "I really like stars. I used to tell him all about the constellations when I was pregnant. I call him Ry for short." Orion.

"I like it." He tells you gently, and you smile again, more confident.

"I'm glad." He studies you. You're beautiful, possibly even more so now, but there's a thread of exhaustion pulling across your face, like you haven't slept in a year.

A new realization settles in his bones like a chill, and his stomach pitches. He thinks he might sick.

You said there's been no one else, so you've been alone? Did you do this on your own? Do you have family, friends? Anyone to help you?

He's no fool. He watched Beth go through it all, struggle through it all, even when she had support.

And he was the asshole that walked out of your life that morning, not caring for the consequences. Not caring for you.

He missed it. He missed all of it.

"I'm sorry I left that morning without... saying anything. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I'd take it back if I could." Your lips part in surprise, and then you nod.

"I- thank you." The baby fusses, tiny cry sounding from your chest, and you fidget with the carrier, pulling him free. "Do you want to hold him?"

Orion fits against his chest perfectly. It's like he was always meant to be there, nestled on top of his forearm, staring up at his dad. Simon is painfully and hyper aware of the little activity in the cafe, the people coming and going, but it does nothing to stop the tears that wet his cheeks.

"You're a natural." You whisper from your new seat next to him, hand smoothing over the back of the baby's head. "I knew he had your eyes, I remembered them so clearly. When he was born, it felt like I was looking into them all over again."

There are a million things he needs to say, to explain, and a million questions he needs to ask. Already the clock is ticking down to the time that he'll need to report on base. Already, the curtain is closing on this tiny piece of heaven he's found himself inside. He needs to tell you, have a frank conversation with you about his job, his life, everything.

But when he looks down at Orion, slowly falling asleep in his arms, and then looks up at you, he decides everything can wait.

The world looks different now, and he's never been more grateful-

and terrified.

[makedamnsvre]

too many thoughts in my head . its 1:30 am

[beneathashadytree]

RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER

Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)

Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽

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Masterlist

“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.

They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”

In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”

Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”

“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”

No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”

With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.

“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”

Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”

He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”

Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”

“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.

They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”

He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.

His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.

“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”

“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.

“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.

With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.

“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”

“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”

“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”

“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—

Chomp!

His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.

“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.

A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”

“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.

“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.

How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.

“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”

“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”

Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”

With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.

Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”

“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”

Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”

“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”

With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.

“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”

His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”

Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”

At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.

“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”

His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”

“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”

“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”

“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”

He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”

“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”

“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”

“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).

They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”

Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”

Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”

“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”

It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”

Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”

“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”

“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”

“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.

“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.

And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”

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[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc Crossover

Danny and Ellie somehow get tangled with Cadmus and frozen for study later. Obviously it comes to the JL’s attention and they all go ‘oh no another clone’. Anyone’s choice of who they think it is or if it’s a collection of people they took DNA from and meshed together to make these two sassy children.

Would be funnier if they came to DC universe by accident and didn’t have time to really learn about it before capture. The result being they have no idea superheroes are a thing and the heroes just thinking ‘these kids were traumatized and held captive, they don’t even know who Superman is!’ and cue another layer of hilarious misunderstanding.

When confronted about the whole clone thing, Danny immediately defends and protects Ellie. Obviously. Then they notice he was not defending himself, to which Danny goes ‘I’m not a clone!’ The heroes look at each other in clear doubt. ‘Oh he was in denial or seriously didn’t know who he was made from. That will make this harder.’

I may have started something though…

They found a discrete laboratory hidden in plan sight, underneath an office building. When researched, they found connections to Cabmus.

Considering the last encounter they had with the organization, they wanted to be prepared. Hence why when the small team noticed Batman walking down the stairs, Superman followed behind with a tight expression.

“Report.”

Red Robin stepped forward.

“Two cryo-stasis containers holding two nearly identical people. The first a male, approximately 13-14 years of age. Stable. The second a female, younger, approximately 10-11 years of age. Also stable, but her stats are lower than the boy’s.”

“What do you know?”

“Virtually nothing,” Connor says casually. “There are no documents left behind, digital or physical, and there are zero labels on these things.”

They arrive toward the back of the basement where the two frozen containers were sitting upright. One unit obviously smaller than the other most likely holding the girl. Batman has to peer down into the larger unit to see the boy’s face. Frost collected on his eyelashes and black hair like a forgotten doll. No movement from either forms, not even breathing.

“So we don’t know who they are made from,” Superman pushes, clearly displeased.

Batman keeps looking at their faces. The curve of their noses, the shape of their jaws, the positioning of their cheekbones. They didn’t look like Connor. No, they reminded him of someone else.

“We suspect hybrids of some sort,” M’gann contributes. “A mixture of different heroes if I had to guess, but there is no way of knowing with our lack of information without waking them up.”

“Can’t you look into their minds?” Clark questions.

M’gann squirms at the directness and Connor steps forward to defend her. Tensions rise.

“No, sir. They are frozen so there is hardly any brain function except to keep them alive. They aren’t even dreaming.”

She looks them over sadly, obviously distraught with not being able to connect to their minds in anyway.

Batman turns to Red Robin, the younger already watching him.

“You see it too, right?”

Batman grunts. Yes, he saw it.

“Is there a way to move them?” Batman brings back the focus.

“The containers are connected to the buildings power and then a back-up generator in case of emergencies. We’d have to switch the power to something mobile and there’s no telling what kind of effect that would have on the kids,” Connor explains, against the idea of moving them.

“It’s six in the evening. Most everyone in the building above as gone home for the day,” Red Robin helpfully adds.

“Evacuate the rest. Then call a medical team.”

“Wait,” Superman interrupts as the three younger heroes jump to do as instructed. “You’re not thinking about waking them up now, are you?”

“You have a better idea?”

Batman doesn’t even look at him as he studies the stats on the old screen connected to the nearest pod. This one holding the boy. He’ll be the first one out seeing as he’s the more stable one.

“They could be dangerous. They could try to attack us.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Batman deadpans. He didn’t state the obvious that they were children who had been frozen for who knows how long. If anything they’ll need reassurance that they were safe, not weapons in their faces as soon as they wake up.

Clark was not happy with his decision, but as long as he didn’t antagonize them Bruce left him alone.

It wasn’t long before they were ready to begin. Three medical personnel stood several yards back behind the heroes. Red Robin begins the defrosting procedure and they have to wait maybe an hour before the door slides open. There is a breath among them as they wait for his eyes to open. Instead they hear a cracking of thin ice and the boy falls forward without the door holding him in place. Connor is the one to catch him before he hits the floor face first.

Superboy turns him to lay him flat on the floor, the boy’s body still stiff with cold. Frost makes his hair and eyelashes brittle. His lips are a faint shade of blue.

“He isn’t breathing,” Connor informs quickly.

One of the medics push forward first, oxygen mask in hand.

“Bring the thermal blankets. We need to get his core temperature up,” the woman urgently instructs.

They get to work quickly in warming up the boy who is too small and fragile. After several minutes of the medics squeezing air into his mouth and rubbing his limbs and chest to get the blood flowing, the boy takes a breath. Then another. He coughs roughly, his throat scratchy, and starts to shiver.

“There we go.”

He whimpers and tries to move his hand, but the action is jerky and unpracticed.

“His eyes,” M’gann informs them, finally able to get some brain activity. “He can’t open his eyes. The ice-“

Connor takes a water bottle the medics brought and poured the room temperature water over his eyes to melt the ice holding them together. The boy jumps in surprise and tries to turn his head away but Connor continues until he can manually wipe away the ice and water from his eyelids.

Blue eyes. The boy has bright sky blue eyes. They aren’t the Krytonian blue, but they were still familiar.

He blinks and squints and looks around, breathing picking up at the people surrounding him and the unfamiliar environment. M’gann, sensing his distress, kneels down and sets a warm hand on his leg.

“It’s okay. No one here will hurt you. You’re safe now.”

He doesn’t relax, but he seems to at least understand her. He studies their uniforms and then her face before his eyes flick to something behind her and they widen. His breath stutters in his chest, making him wheeze out on the exhale.

They look behind the green skinned girl to see the smaller pod still holding the little girl, no change in her status.

The boy reaches out a shaky hand toward it, scraping against the cold concrete in his lack of energy to lift it.

“She’s okay too.”

He opens his mouth to speak, licks his lips, tries again.

“-ou-,” he rasps. His breath hitches and he’s coughing again. They help him onto his side.

“You want us to get her out?” Red Robin interprets.

The boy squints through the tears from the lack of oxygen at the hero. His expression is scrunched in discomfort and worry. As enthusiastic as he can manage, the boy nods.

“Okay, we can do that. You just have to wait, she needs to thaw out, just like what we did with you,” Red Robin explains to the boy.

He nods again in understanding, his eyes glued back to the girl in the pod. He still shivers harshly and his breathing isn’t regular but he’s not panicking and in no shape to attack them, so it seems like they were in the clear with that one.

While the girl is thawing, they get him more comfortable with warm blankets and get him to drink some water for his throat. He still wasn’t moving much except to curl up on his side and breathe on his colorless fingers. Every time he swallowed he cringed like he was drinking acid, so talking was off the table for now.

The boy was fighting sleep by the time the container door slide open. Connor was there and holding her before she could fall like the boy had.

Superboy lays the girl down close to the boy, seeing the pale hand reaching for her. As soon as he backed away the medics were on her to get air in her lungs and warm her body same as they did for the boy.

The boy watches, quietly holding her hand. Siblings it looks like it. Seeing them side by side was startling. They seemed to be clones of each other, one just younger and the opposite gender, but they were the same.

It was concerning as the number of minutes increased and there was no change. She didn’t breathe or move. She looked dead.

“Get the defibrillator,” the medic ordered, urgent.

The boy surprisingly wasn’t panicking, instead he held a hard determination that made some of the heroes curious.

Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he leaned over the girl and started weakly pushing the blankets out of the way. Thinking he was just helping to make the medic’s job easier, M’gann helped until her torso was exposed.

“You need to back away so they-“

She stops when she sees him tug at the girl’s white shirt to get into direct contact with her skin, hand pressed to her chest.

“What are you-?”

He narrows his eyes in concentration.

Red Robin unconsciously takes a step back when the boy’s blue eyes change into a glowing toxic green, illuminating the girl’s face, frost shining in the light. The hand pressed to her chest also starts to glow the same green until it seeps into her skin like she’s absorbing this weird energy. It reminded them of Starfire actually.

The green in his eyes fades as soon as the unknown green energy is lighting up her entire torso just under the skin. He pulls away and looks expectantly at the medic holding the defibrillator. She flinches into moving, setting the machine down and charging it. She’s hesitant to touch the green energy but the boy nods in encouragement, not looking concerned for anything but the girl’s health.

“Clear!”

It takes one shock for the green energy to disperse through her body and cause her to gasp. The girl starts coughing harshly and the boy pulls her to lay on her side facing him. Connor quickly helps the boy to cover her in blankets. The boy goes as far as tucking them around her and taking one of his own blankets to pile on top. He was moving more easily now even if it was sluggish.

M’gann gasps quietly just as the girl starts sobbing, whining when the act of crying hurt her throat. The boy pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin so they could barely see her. They watch as he calmly comforts her until they are both eased into unconsciousness.

Batman give Superman a pointed look as he passes him. Clark doesn’t respond.

“Get them to the Watchtower med bay,” he orders.

It’s Superman who picks up the pile of two children tangled together and wrapped in layers of fabric, nearly throwing them at how light they both weighted. The three younger heroes follow behind, Tim mumbling about “Lazarus pits” and “Jason”, M’gann twisting her fingers in anxiety, and Connor keeping a close eye on the two kids being carried by his original.

It’s unsurprising that it’s Connor who volunteers to say with them when they are settled down in the med bay, still clinging to each other in sleep.

[joejhang]

fanon neil vs canon neil

god i am so FUCKING done with the aftg fandom mischaracterising neil i'm literally writing fucking ESSAYS about it and pacing circles muttering about it under my breath it's driving me up the goddamn wall so i am going to word vomit brain dump yap about all of it in an incoherent tumblr text post. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk

i've said it before and i'll say it again I HATE FANON NEIL. istg this fandom LOVES to mischaracterise neil and ykw i think i know why. they take the smallest most unnoticeable parts of his personality and then exaggerate them to disproportionate and unrealistic levels in order for him to fit their idea of a conventional, stereotypical and desirable main character. they smooth out his jagged edges and prick at his "insecurities" to make him more likeable, more acceptable and more conventional of a narrator/main character and in doing so erase so fucking much of his personality and draw as a character that he loses just about all of the flavour that made me love him in canon. and also especially within the andreil dynamic this fucking fandom just loves to tweak neil's character until he's basically unrecognisable just so they can cram andreil into some preconceived socially acceptable clichéd ship dynamic. because andrew is perceived as the typical mysterious, moody and grumpy love interest therefore neil just has to be the sunshiney smiley blushing cute softboy in exchange. yeah because all gay ships have to be grumpy-sunshine and black cat-golden retriever dynamic. i raise you: andreil's dynamic doesn't work because of their differences it works because of their similarities. if u think about it andrew and neil are honestly very similar people in the way they think and process emotions and events and that's what allows them to connect and understand each other. andreil would not work if neil was super sunshiney and a blushy soft mess and andrew was the stoic, never smiling, unemotional stone of a guy the fandom loves to make them. just accept they do not fit into the conventional boxes laid out by booktok for what gay ships look like. i fucking digress.

neil is also just insanely mischaracterised on his own. people love making him very jittery and insanely oblivious and easily flustered with a generous serving of self-esteem issues. i hate to break it to you guys: neil josten is not insecure. i don't think there's a single instant in the series where neil is actually insecure about anything. as a narrator, person and character, neil is very realistic, pragmatic and logical. ruthlessly so. i'd say on this, neil is even more cerebral and unemotional than andrew is. neil is very straightforward and realistic abt himself in his narration and i'd honestly say his opinion and views about himself are one of the only things in the story that isn't affected by his narrator bias. if neil is anything, it's self-aware. i'm now going to present all my fucking evidence.

neil doesn't have a sexuality crisis. literally in the entire series never once does he even question his fucking sexuality. it's implied he's already figured out he's aspec/demisexual from the moment nicky questions him about his sexuality. neil says "i don't swing" and follows up in his narration: it wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. and later when he starts his relationship with andrew he doesn't ever question the nature of his feelings towards andrew or even anyone else and is pretty clear about it when andrew breaches the topic: "kissing you doesn't make me look at them any differently" so yeah neil is pretty certain and aware of his sexuality.

neil isn't insecure about his appearance. i feel like this is gonna require a bit of work to explain but hear me out. it is mentioned several times that neil has a complicated relationship with his appearance because he looks so much like his father/abuser. this is obviously understandable; you wouldn't want to look into the mirror and see the man who gave u all ur scars. that being said, neil doesn't have a lot of strong emotions regarding his appearance. most of his feelings of panic tied to when r*ko dyed back his hair is because of how it would be a lot easier for his father to discover him now that he has his original colouring back. i'm also pretty sure neil knows that he's cute. like it's never explicitly stated but i've reread aftg maybe fifty times and trust me i can read between the lines. neil explicitly says that he has a "love-hate relationship with his reflection out of necessity" and while the "hate" part of that statement is obvious: he doesn't like that he resembles his father, i've sort of just accepted that the "love" part of it is that he knows he's kinda fine. it's not brought up by him at all bc neil as a person is not one to linger on people's appearances almost at all. i think the only people to get a decent amount of lines dedicated to their appearance in the narration are allison and andrew. but yeah i genuinely don't think neil thinks he's ugly or unattractive and he's probably definitely been told how cute he is by others enough that he doesn't harbour any delusions about how he looks. regarding his scars, he never expresses any insecurity towards them and how they look, he just doesn't like them on display understandably bc of how acutely they point to his past and childhood that he's trying to hide.

neil is actually very very confident in his own and other people's abilties. this is esp regarding exy. he knows he's good at the game. like he knows. the most distinct example i can think of for this point is when kevin tells neil that he was at castle evermore to try out for the perfect court when they were younger. neil doesn't even doubt for a fucking second that he would've made it onto the perfect court. never does. he skips over the second-guessing and doubt part and just straight up starts daydreaming about the future he could've had playing with kevin and r*ko. like that really got me bc it's easy to assume neil would be super unassuming and have low self-esteem but no like neil doesn't doubt for a fucking second that he deserves to be perfect court. it's just that he doesn't believe in r*ko's delusions enough to play along with it by the time he gets the tattoo. he's also insanely confident about the foxes and their abilities and also kevin by the end of the series. at the beginning he takes a pretty realistic vantage point and says that with the way things are, the foxes will never beat the ravens. but even with that pov he still has the gall to challenge r*ko on LIVE TV and i doubt he's lying when he declares so boldly to everyone that if the foxes were united they'd be an unstoppable force (and guess what he was fucking RIGHT). and by the end, when the foxes are united, he has no more room left for doubt at all. some guy tells neil to kick the ravens' asses and neil just replies with zero hesitation "that's the plan". like he's so fucking on board with it. and he never once doubts that kevin is the best striker in the game. like literally never. at first he considers r*ko and kevin on par with each other (possibly, it's never stated outright) but by the end he literally has no doubts when he says "kevin is the best striker" like goddamn the amount of confidence neil has is so underrated.

neil is a very unemotional narrator. it actually gets me all the time how logical and ruthlessly pragmatic neil's narration and inner monologue is. some of the only strong emotions portrayed in neil's narration are anger, irritation and occasionally grief, which is only ever triggered by major trauma-inducing events (e.g. dr*ke). almost all of his inner monologue is analytical and observing others and dissecting either other people or the situation he's in. and almost all of his decisions and actions are made based on impulse and instinct. neil is a very instinctive person. this is outright stated in the way he plays exy; in theory, he can't give u a lot, but in the heat of the moment he's at his best. this applies to practically all facets of neil's life. he never plans his moves or what he's gonna say (except like that one time when he planned out what half-truth he was gonna tell andrew post-columbia). he's super quick and on the ball and literally does whatever the fuck he wants at any given moment. he's also insanely good at compartmentalising. like it's difficult to explain but while his priorities are obv hilariously skewed, they're also very clear in his mind. things he considers unimportant he simply just doesn't think about. what others look like and what they think of him don't factor into his internal monologue or his thoughts at all he literally just files them away in the back of his mind until they do end up becoming useful or important to him. he barely comments on andrew's appearance at all until andrew becomes someone worth staring at and admiring for him. the only reason he describes allison and renee in the detail that he does is because it's important in understanding how and why he reacts to them the way he does. this man was literally about to lose his goddamn mind at the fall banquet but he specifically reserved his mental breakdown for after the banquet so he could spend his time roasting the fuck out of r*ko. bro fully locked in and was like "clock riko now break down later" and i respect it.

neil doesn't actually have a martyr complex. it's funny because almost all of aftg is him being the absolute fucking opposite of a martyr. he wilfully sticks around the foxes knowing he's putting himself and them in danger. he doesn't "sacrifice" himself until he's absolutely forced to by his father's people. by then, he's already told himself he can't and won't run and he's smart enough to know he'll never get away anyway. and going to evermore wasn't about self-sacrifice or martyrdom it was about protecting andrew and those two are pretty fucking different. he knew he was coming back from evermore and he knew that he wouldn't die there, despite all the shit he went through, so i don't think that can be counted as "self-sacrifice". he was doing what he had to do to protect andrew, the same as andrew would've done for neil or aaron or kevin or anyone else he'd sworn to protect. the kidnapping in baltimore was the culmination of neil's character arc, which isn't really about learning to be selfless and self-sacrificing, it's about learning to stand his ground and stop running. those things r crucially different: neil not running in baltimore wasn't about selflessness, it was about courage. yes, part of it was obviously inspired by the foxes and motivated by not wanting them to be hurt but i truly believe it ultimately was about neil learning to stand his own ground and make his own home and have it be something he's willing to die for. call it whatever u want honestly i just don't think neil is as much of a martyr/sacrificial lamb as the fandom makes him out to be.

[pinkeoni]

Will is Going to Die by Sacrificing Himself

...and come back to life. To me, it seems pretty obvious, but I'll explain why.

Will has been characterized as someone who puts others before himself since season one, even if it means costing him his life. The entire series starts off with Will casting fireball instead of protection during their Dungeons & Dragons game, putting his character in danger for the sake of the rest of the party.

This self-sacrificial nature is echoed in season two, but two a much more extreme end, when Will instructs everyone to close the gate to stop the Mind Flayer, despite knowing that doing so will kill him.

While we don't see this same self-sacrifice from Will in seasons three and four, we do see two related characters make their own sacrifices, possibly hinting at Will's future fate.

First we have the other character named William, Billy, sacrifice himself at the end of season three in order to stop the meat flayer.

Then in season four, we have Eddie sacrifice himself while the same song that played for Will after he came back to life in season one plays in the background— "When It's Cold I'd Like to Die" by Moby.

There are also little ways that we are told/shown of Will's selfless nature, such as giving a girl his tonka truck because she was sad, or giving Mike his painting under El's name. While this trait could be seen as admirable, I think it will ultimately be his undoing.

But why would Will need to sacrifice himself?

Well, we know that despite all of this time, Will still holds a connection to Vecna, and likely to the Mind Flayer and the Upside Down himself. Putting a stop to all of these things is going to be intrinsic to Will's arc next season.

I don't know how many people know about Noah's letterboxd, but he has been rewatching the Harry Potter movies.

Perhaps for personal enjoyment, or perhaps to study for his character?

The comparisons between Will/Vecna and Harry/Voldemort have been made before, and the Duffers are derivative of other sources if anything.

I think that this could be likened to a horcrux situation. At the end of season four, we saw Vecna be totally flambéd by the older teens, and yet, he's still kicking, and Will is the one to tell us this.

If the brain dies the body dies, but also, could the brain latch on to another body in order to keep it alive? Similar to how Harry had to die so that Voldemort could be defeated, I believe Will might have to die (at least temporarily) in order to take down Vecna/MF/UD.

We know that the show is bringing back "Should I Stay or Should I Go," which is going to prompt an important question that Will needs to find the answer to, should he stay or should he go? While this could also relate to his romantic endeavors for the season, I think that the song could be alluding to Will's choice to sacrifice himself in order to save everyone else.

What I think will probably happen is this: At some point in the season, Will is going to learn what has to happen, and he is going to go off to sacrifice himself without telling anyone so no one can stop him. (I'm guessing that Will can't just off himself, there's probably a specific way that it needs to be done).

Something I realized while making this post is that Mike is always the one who figures out what needs to be done, or brings up Will's sacrifice to others. My guess is that Mike is going to find out what Will is up to, and try to stop him. Emphasis on try, because I think this death is inevitable. However, bringing the show back full circle to season one (and because ST can never keep a main character dead), he will come back to life.

[hotshotsxyz]

this method acting (might pay our bills)

(1.1k) (gen) 8x02 coda with spoilers from the 8x03 teaser. it's still thursday on the west coast, so i'm counting this as a same day coda. anyway brad torrence is a menace and i'm setting up camp in his brain

Let it be known to all, Brad Torrence takes his craft very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that when he’s called to a real emergency, he answers that call without hesitation. After all, what better to inform his performance than real experience? Tonight, Brad is a firefighter; he doesn’t just play one on TV.

His fellow firefighter, Buck, doesn’t seem terribly enthused about his presence. He generally seems to have a worried air about him, though, so maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with him at all. There’s a certain degree of vanity required in his profession, but he isn’t entirely self-centered. Honestly, he’s just glad that Buck doesn’t seem to be starstruck. That would make this entire situation far more difficult.

“Try Athena,” Bobby commands, but before Brad can ask for her number, Buck’s already dialing. That’s fine, he supposes. There’s no time to waste.

Brad’s not actually completely sure who Athena is. Someone important, obviously, perhaps his lieutenant? His character on Hotshots is a bit of a lone wolf, but maybe there’s something else there to explore. He makes a mental note to ask the writers room about adding a new character in the back half of the season, a lieutenant for him to butt heads and then bond with. They could even make it a bit of a will-they-won’t-they. He’s sure they won’t mind a few rewrites.

The phone rings twice, then, to Brad’s surprise, the call connects.

“Buck? Where’s—”

“I’m right here, Athena,” Bobby interrupts. His tone is magnificent. Calm but firm, no doubt inspiring nothing but faith in the woman on the other end of the line, whoever she is to him.

“Oh, thank god, Bobby,” Athena says.

Her voice is a bit garbled. It wouldn’t make for good television, but some concessions must be made for reality, Brad supposes.

“I’m on a plane,” Athena continues. “It’s—it’s not looking great.”

“Athena, if there’s anyone who can land a plane it’s you,” Bobby says. There isn’t a modicum of doubt in his voice.

“If there’s anyone who can land a plane, it’s a pilot!” Athena protests. Brad wishes he brought a pen and paper. Her comedic timing is excellent.

“She’s got you there,” Brad says, leaning forward until his head is between Bobby and Buck.

The look Buck shoots him is just shy of murderous. He’d be a terrible actor, Brad thinks. It’s all about focus and purposeful expression, neither of which seem to be at the top of Buck’s priority list.

“Who the hell was that?” Athena asks.

“Brad Torrence,” he says smoothly, “but you can call me Brad.”

Buck’s expression shifts from murderous to incredulous. Again, terrible actor.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby says.

He inflects his words with the tiniest hint of irritation. It’s brilliant – how better to redirect the anxiety Athena must be feeling into something more manageable. Brad only hopes he’ll be able to meet her in person once this nasty business is over.

“I’ve got plenty to worry about. He doesn’t even make the top ten.”

Buck snorts. Rude.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Bobby says.

“Air traffic control is directing us to LAX, but—Bobby, I’m not sure we can make it that far. The hole in the fuselage is getting bigger and our airspeed is dropping fast.” Athena sounds scared, desperate. Caroline could learn a thing or two from her about emotional resonance.

“Did—did you say there’s a hole in the plane?” Buck asks. His voice has a certain gravely, intense timber that Brad supposes would do well in some genres. Action movies, maybe, but not the high budget kind.

“What do you need from me?” Bobby asks before she can answer the question.

“Do you got a runway in your back pocket?” Again, brilliant comedic timing. She has that perfectly acerbic wit that any good heroine needs to have.

Bobby thinks for a moment. “Can you make it to the 110?” he asks finally.

“That, I think I can do,” Athena replies.

“Buck,” Bobby says, only it sounds less like his name and more like a command.

“On it,” Buck says. He twists around in his seat and looks at Brad. “Give me your phone.”

“My—why do you need my phone?” Brad asks. “You’ve got one right there.”

“Come on, man, now,” Buck says, all bite with no room for argument.

“Fine, fine,” Brad says. He slides his phone from the pocket of his turnout pants and hands it to Buck, who doesn’t even thank him for it.

Instead, he turns back to the front and types out a quick text before dialing a number. The call connects almost instantly.

“Maddie,” he says, “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to shut down the 110, get as much traffic off it as possible. We need it completely clear from Sepulveda to Torrance.”

The woman on the other end of the line doesn’t reply directly. “All available units, we’re shutting down the 110. Create roadblocks south of Sepulveda and north of Torrance. All traffic must be cleared between those exits.”

“Thank you, Maddie, you’re the best,” Buck says when she’s done. So, some people do, in fact, get thanked when they do something helpful. It’s fine.

“Is it Athena?” Maddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “They can’t stay in the air much longer.”

“Alright,” Maddie says. “I’ll coordinate with the IC over there, get triage moved as fast as possible.”

“I’ll keep you in the loop,” Buck says.

The line goes dead, and Brad’s expecting to get his phone back, but Buck sends another text and dials another number. This time, it rings thrice before the call is answered.

“Buck,” a man says on the other end of the line. His voice is warm and honey smooth. Brad should ask his dialect coach about that.

“They’re not—Eddie, they’re not making it to LAX,” Buck says, rushed and a little less polished than he was for Maddie.

There’s a short pause, then the quality of the sound changes. “Where?” the man—Eddie—asks.

“The 110,” Buck says. “South of Torrance. We need you over here, fast as possible.”

It’s odd, hearing his name this many times when he’s not the subject of the conversation. If this was meant to be a TV scene, it’d be far too repetitive.  

“Pack it up, let’s go!” another voice calls. She must be a captain, if the authority she speaks with is anything to go off.

“We’re coming,” Eddie says.

Some of the tension in Buck’s shoulders seems to bleed away. Interesting. “See you soon,” he says.

He ends the call, and Brad turns his attention back to Bobby. After listening for a moment, he realizes that they’re now on a conference call, and Athena is speaking to someone who knows a great deal more about planes than he does.

Brad closes his eyes and leans back. They’ll be at the scene soon. It’s time to visualize. As long as he stays in character, nothing can go wrong.

[cjjohansson]

from across the room, to between the sheets.

natasha romanoff x reader. - for months you have been longing for her. tonight it finally changes. -

reader has a penis. fluff? SMUT! oblivious reader? who knows. i don't.

18+!!!!!

It first happened at a party Tony hosted. You thought it was innocent at first. The way she kept staring at you while she stood with her boyfriend's arm around her shoulders. But everytime she looked at you, you couldn't help but stare back. Your eyes continuously move slowly down her body, drinking her in. She has always been beautiful. Sexy even. And anyone who ever told you that THE Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, wasn't beautiful or sexy…were simply blind or idiots. 

You could talk about her for hours. Well at the start it was mainly about her body. But after that one party conversations flowed through you both. They came naturally. The connection instantly there as you spoke about everything and nothing at the same time. 

You both bonded over your traumatic childhoods at 3am when you were both plagued by nightmares. Which you always found amusing at how you both found each other even when you both lived at 2 different ends of the Avengers compound. 

You were a SHIELD agent and one of the best so to say. You weren't originally based there, you had only recently been moved a few weeks before the party.  

But it was like as soon as you both laid eyes on eachother you were both hooked. Like it was a secret connection that no one could know about. Her boyfriend was on the team. It would cause problems at work and it wasn't worth it. But she WAS worth it. 

The times she held you in her arms when you couldn't shake off a bad flashback after a nightmare. Her hand carding through your hair, her body pressed tightly against hers. You would be dead if her boyfriend had seen. 

You were friends. Good friends. But nobody knew. Nobody could ever know. She was technically your superior. SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND! 

Tony practically hosted parties every month. 

The same thing happening over and over. You would feel her eyes on your back and when you turned you were always met with her low smirk and longing eyes. But again he was always next to her. 

It happened for months, secret meet ups whenever one of you had a nightmare, your phone flashing up filling your dark room. A text from her. Always a simple text. ‘The garden.’ You would be out of bed in seconds. You had even gone as far to change the ringtone of her text, even when sleep filled you the sound of your phone recognising her text tone brought you straight out of sleep. 

It was difficult. Being friends with her was difficult, even though it felt like the easiest thing in the world. You started to think about her more often. She would plague your thoughts, the need to be next to her filled your bones. All you could think about was her, every second of every day she was in your head. There was no doubt that by this point you had fallen in love with her. She wasn't just beautiful or sexy. She was caring, strong minded, and intelligent. She was no longer just a body you could admire from far away. She was now a real human who your heart couldn't not fall for. It was stupid. 

God of course it was stupid. The whole time, from the moment you met her, she belonged to someone else. Her body laid with another. But your brain couldn't stop telling you maybe she liked you too. Why else would she seek comfort in another when she has someone already?

You always wanted to ask, but part of you also never wanted to know the truth. So you never asked. 

You thought a secret was better than nothing. So if that was the only way you could have her then that is how you would take it. 

But that all seemed to change when Tony hosted another party 8 months after you had first laid eyes on her. 

Your body shook in the elevator as you made your way to the party floor. The frill of finally seeing her again consumed you. You hadn't seen her for a week, she had been away on a mission and when she had come back you had them left for one too. You had only gotten home that morning. You couldn't wait to see her across the room, couldn't wait to see her smirk fill her face as your own eyes took her whole self in. 

You heard her before you saw her. Her infectious laugh had your head instantly turning to the bar where she stood with no other than Clint Barton. You knew he was her best friend. Maybe now after 8 months you could finally approach her in public but your whole body froze when you saw Bucky Barnes, her boyfriend, walk up behind her and throw his arm around her shoulders and pull her into a half hug. You turned in the other direction after that. But if you hadn’t maybe you would have seen the way she pushed him off of her and punched his shoulder calling him an idiot. 

You once again stood far away from her, but never once letting her out of your sight. You wondered if she could feel your eyes on her. And your question was answered when she turned away from the bar and her eyes instantly met yours. You had to hold the blush that threatened to creep up your throat over her finding you. But that wasn't what shocked you. What shocked you was her turning back to the bar and grabbing another beer, her feet moving her in your direction and before you knew it she stood in front of you. 

It was like you could feel everyone's eyes on you. People were definitely wondering why Natasha was approaching you of all people. Especially Bucky Barnes. 

“I missed you this week.” Natasha sheepishly muttered as she handed you the beer from her hand. Your blush came at full force then. “I missed you too.” You couldn't help but take a nervous sip of your drink as she chuckled at you. 

“Stop thinking about everyone staring at us.” Nat said louder this time, her eyes staring intensely into yours. “Well it is very hard to not think about it when your boyfriend looks like he wants to come over here and rip my head off.” You chuckle back at her taking another sip on your drink, but quickly shut yourself up when you notice her confused expression on her face. “And who is my boyfriend?” You choked on the drink in your mouth. Was she being serious? “Er? Bucky?” You reply, nerves filing your body once again. She laughed loudly at your reply, jokingly wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. You had never felt so confused. “Bucky? My boyfriend. No, definitely not.” Okay, definitely confused.

“Wait, what? He isn’t your boyfriend?”

“Have I ever said he was?”

“Well no, I just, whenever we are at parties he always has his arm around you and whispers things in your ear…I just assumed…”

“Ohh you assumed? Well you’re very wrong.” Her smirk back on her face as she now takes a sip from her drink. Her eyes flutter over your face, then they lower, following your whole body as she takes in your suit. “You look really, really nice tonight.” Natasha’s voice turns husky as she takes a step closer towards you. Your body is heating up over just her voice, your head feeling dizzy at how perfect this woman is. You manage to swallow the breath you were holding and find the courage to reply, “And you Tasha, are looking as beautiful as ever.” Her cheeks flood red, she lowers her head in embarrassment, you already knew how much she hated being complimented. 

You feel your arm move before your brain can actually catch up, your arm hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. Part of you expected her to back away. But instead she willingly moves closer herself, her right hand coming up and laying on your chest. 

You can feel everyone's eyes on you even more than you did a moment ago. The movement is so intimate and vulnerable. And she, the big bad Black Widow, was letting it happen. You feel as she takes a breath, her head finally lifting. Her eyes meet yours. And it feels as though everyone who was staring is no longer in the room. It is just you and her. 

“I don't know if it is just liquid courage, and I promise I’m definitely not drunk but I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while…” Natasha breaths out, nerves filling her body, an action you feel is so rare from the woman in front of you. 

“You can tell me anything.” 

“I…I have liked you since the moment I laid eyes on you 8 months ago in this very room. I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you…I just, I didn't want to lose whatever we had but I spoke to Clint and…”

“You spoke to Clint about me?” A teasing grin falls on your face, your insides feeling warm and fuzzy over her admission. “Is that all you have to say about what I just told you? Come on Y/n…I like you, and I like you a lot, like you consume…” Your hand touches her cheek first, your fingers play with some hair that has fallen onto her face. “Can you stop talking for 2 seconds and let me kiss you Tasha.” 

“Yes, yeah. I would very much like…” Your lips touch hers before she can finish her sentence. Your hand on her cheek holds her securely on your lips. Both of you move together, you move as one. Her hand curls around the edge of your suit jacket, pulling you impossibly closer to her. She can most likely feel your heart beating out of your chest as her tongue swipes against your lower lip begging for entrance and you want to allow it but the people in the room come back to your mind as well as your trousers tightening around you. You smile against her lips, her own curling up after yours as you both pull away from one another.

“I wish we could leave right now but people would definitely talk more about us than they are already going too.” She whispers between you both, her lips red and slightly swollen. 

“Yeah well they better not look down then.” You awkwardly murmur to her. Her eyes fly down and then back up again as your cheeks burn red again. “I don’t think I can stay here knowing you have a problem that I am very capable of sorting out.” Natasha huskily replies, her eyes darkening, she looks up at you through her eyelashes and you swear you feel yourself get even harder. You groan in annoyance. Your head leaning down to press into her forehead. “You're killing me right now red…” Natasha leans up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. Her head then moves so she can whisper in your ear, “Please, lets just leave…” She practically begs. You nod your head, your body winning over. She turns in your arms. Her ass pressing into you and you have to swallow the moan that comes over you. Your beers are long forgotten on the table you were standing next to. Your heavy arms are now around her waist and you bring her even closer to you. You both walk through the room attached to one another. People stare and all Natasha can do is chuckle at their faces. 

As soon as the elevator doors close, she turns in your arms. Her body once again leaning against yours as she chases your lips. A whimper leaves her mouth as you grip her ass and press her into you, your lips finally meeting hers. Her hand moves down to grip you through your trousers, a moan leaving your mouth at the sudden action. You manage to move your leg between her legs, her body shuddering as you take a hold of her hips. You grind her hips hard into you, her body shaking as she feels your muscles through your trousers. Your own body shudders when you feel how wet she is. 

“Fuckk, baby…” she moans as you start to move her faster against you, her body tensing up, your instinct telling you she is already close to cumming has you moving one of your hand to your trousers and opening them, your trousers becoming painfully tight over the sinful sounds falling from her. Natasha moves her lips down your neck, she bites and sucks all over your neck until you are moaning loudly, her face pulling into a smirk when she realises she has found one of your spots. She chuckles lowly against you but gets cut off as you pull her down even harder onto your leg, her hips moving faster as she suddenly cums. Her body tenses and her head falls against your shoulder. Her breathing fast, while she slows her grinding and then comes to a stop. 

Her hand instantly moves to your boxers but before she can touch you the doors to the elevator open and she is pulling you along to her bed room. 

You're not given the chance to even acknowledge her room as she pushes you up against the wall and her lips are instantly latched back onto yours. Her hand now successfully wraps around your hardened length as she jerks you teasingly. Your hands come up to her back, fingers finding the zip of her dress and pulling it down. She removes herself from you and steps out of her dress, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you take note of her bare body. It somehow makes you feel hotter knowing she was wearing nothing underneath her dress. You kick off your own shoes, pull down your own trousers and boxers, kicking them off somewhere in the room as Natasha starts to undo your shirt buttons. But they seem to annoy her as she chooses to rip your shirt instead. 

The showing of her strength has your breathing deepen. She looks up at you innocently, moving to leave a kiss on your lips, you go to chase them but stop when you notice her lowering herself onto the floor. Your eyes follow hers and take note on how she keeps eye contact while she teasingly licks the tip of your dick, your hips buck, impatience filling you, she notices the change in your face, desperation overtaking you and she finally wraps her lips around you. She takes you slowly, her head bobbing up and down until her nose finally touches your stomach. You try to stop yourself from thrusting but the sound of her gagging has you gripping the back on her head and start to fuck her mouth. 

You groan at the muffled sounds coming from her, your abs tightening as you pull her on and off of yourself. “Gon cum if you keep doing that baby girl.” Natasha’s eyes go hazy at your words, her body falling into submission as you bring her back to your tip. “You wanna make me cum?” Your cocky tone turns her on as she nods her head with you in her mouth, she brings one of her hands up to grip onto the base of your cock. Her hand and head falling into a rhythm. “Sh-shittt, gonna, I’m gonna cum.” You husk out, you half expect her to pull away but are met with her eyes connecting to yours once again and her head moving faster, you instantly understand, your hand pulling her hair into a ponytail, and fucking her mouth again, both of your groans fill the room and your body flinches as you finally release your cum into her mouth. She keeps sucking you dry as your body slumps against the door. She eases off of you slowly, getting back up to her feet. Her face comes into view and you feel yourself start to get hard again over the dopey expression on her face and the cum that is glistening on her lips. 

You don't stop yourself when you lean to kiss her, pulling her body closer to you once again. You never want to experience her body never being this close to you ever again. Her stomach presses against your already hard again dick and you pull her over to the bed. You sit comfortably against the headboard while she climbs onto your lap, leaving hot wet kisses over your neck as she grinds her hips over your dick. 

Your hands fall to her hips to lift her up, her hand flies down and moves your head to her opening. You slowly lower her, letting her get used to your size before you even attempt to move. "Fuckkk, baby you're so big." She breathes into your mouth as she starts to move her hips up and down at a slow pace. 

Your brain instantly falls into how you want the rest of this night to go. "Be a good girl and take it, yeah.." You reply as you slowly flip her over, with yourself still inside of her. "Fuck detka..." Natasha pants as you grind into her steadily. The russian falling from her lips turning you on even more. Her face contorts as you hit the perfect spot inside of her, her legs coming to move around your waist holding you tight, her hands falling tightly onto your back as she digs her nails into you.

"Fucking me so good..." Natasha breathlessly moans into the room, her body moving to meet your thrusts halfway. She grinds her hips into yours, her hands stretching down your back, mostly likely leaving blood in their movements, her mouth falling open in a silent moan as you pull out to the tip and slam back into her. 

You pull her hands from your back, not letting up your thrusting as you lay her hands above her head, your hands grip onto hers as you thrust even harder into her, you watch as your hands drain with colour with how tight she is holding you, “Wanna hear you scream for me, baby girl. Can you be a good girl and do that for me?” You pant out into her ear, her head nods as she moans sinfully. You repeat your action from earlier, you pull out so only the tip is still in her and roughly fill her up again, her moans getting even louder. You don't stop that action, loving the way her eyes close and pornagraphic moans leave her as you fill her up. You fill her up fast, your head moaning down to rest on her shoulder as you groan against her hot skin. Her head flies back at your rough thrusting. 

The whole room feels hot, her skin against yours feels hot. Your deep panting mixing with her moans.

You feel yourself coming closer to the edge, but you want her to cum with you. Your hands release hers and one moves to support yourself on the headboard, her hands moving back to grip your back, your other hand snakes between your bodies reaching her clit. "FUCK, Y/N! Don't stop, don't stop!" Natasha finally screams so loud you fear people at the party will hear her but you don't stop, your dick continues to move inside of her at a fast pace, your thumb speeding up the circles on her clit.

"Want you to cum inside, together." She says before she moves her lips between your neck and collarbone, her teeth biting into the area, she instantly tightens around you, her walls squeezing you to the point you have to change to deeper short thrusts. Your body is on hyperdrive at the thought of painting her walls with your cum. “You feel so fucking good, shittt. I’m gonna cum” Natasha moans.

"Okay baby, okay....cum- cum for me" You stutter out as you feel her gush around you, her cum hitting your stomach as you pull back more, your body tensing as you release inside of her, her body shaking as feels you cum inside. Your thumb slows down along with your hips, silently not wanting this to end. You look down not wanting to miss the way both of your cums mix together and squirt out between your thrusts.

Your moments eventually stop, her hands coming up to play with your hair, your body collapsing onto hers. Your body keeps shuddering as you feel her clench and unclench around you. Your dick already starting to get hard again. She brings your face out of her neck and kisses you slowly. It soon moves to passion as your hips slowly start to move inside of her again. Already wanting to take her all over again. She is like a drug, and you already know you're addicted.

“Fuckk baby, you're perfect, you're mine okay? You're mine…” You moan possessively against her lips, her own lips pulling into a smirk as she whispers back into your lips, “I was yours from the moment we laid eyes on each other.”

[stnexus]

a slip of the tongue…!

jason todd x fem!black!reader

MINORS DNI, NSFW, 18+

summary: stressful days and sleepless nights, jason has a remedy for that one. just don’t give him any attitude, that’s all he asks.

cw: minor little heated argument (reader literally just has a lil freak out moment), a few mentions of jason’s scars, reader is stressed, insomnia (?), reader thinks jason’s mad for a second but that gets cleared up quick, nsfw, squeaky bed frame(?), praise kink, overstimulation, dumbification, dacryphillia, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, mating press, missionary, cowgirl, this one kinda sensual you guys (i need this man so bad. tonight…we FEAST.)

names used (?): baby, pretty, pretty girl, beautiful, beautiful girl, good girl, daddy (used in moderation you guys)

word count: 3.5k+ (yet i was struggling to write my 1.2k final essay. THIS IS 12 FUCKING PAGES.)

A slam of the front door was all that rang throughout the house, the pitch black darkness was like a cold greeting. One that you had gotten used to when you would come home from work late in the evening. With Jason on his patrol and the house void of  anyone else, you were left to your own devices. Something that you sometimes wish was not the case. 

Dropping your keys on to the side table of your Gotham apartment, you pushed your heels off and kicked them out of the way of the front door. Flipping the light switch up and to the on position soon after. As your bare feet connected with  the cold wood flooring of the apartment, it seemed to ground you just a bit. 

This week at work had been hell, your boss had been working you so much you felt like if you blinked within his line of sight he would scold you for goofing off. So here you were. Sore feet, skirt and blouse cladded body tired as ever. Stripping yourself of your clothes one by one you held the pile of clothing in your arms until you reached your room, gliding through it to the connected bathroom.

Dropping the clothing in the hamper in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Your eyes were glazed over from your tiredness, your pretty brown skin was beginning to lack its glow, and the bags under your eyes were getting heavier by the minute. Stressed wasn’t even the word needed to explain your state of being. 

Another sigh fell from your lips, and a yawn followed soon after as you made your way to the shower. grabbing your pink bonnet off the sink where you had left it, you gathered your braids and tucked them into the bonnet, the band laying snug on your forehead. you hoped that the water that would soon come beating down against your skin could help you become less stressed. 

your shower was therapeutic, but not enough to fully ease your mind. no, what you needed and wanted was jason. you had missed him all day — knowing your home would be empty when you arrived home due to him needing to tend to important matters. as you climbed into bed, dressed in pajamas that consisted of an old shirt and shorts, the squeak of the old bed frame that needed to be replaced welcomed you. 

i need to remind jason to help me pick out another bed frame next weekend. your thoughts rang.

grabbing at his pillow on his side of the bed, you pulled it towards you. his scent seemingly pulls you out of the brain fog you were currently in, just slightly. but it is still not enough. soon you would realize even attempting to fall asleep was futile. even though your eyelids were heavy and begged for rest.

you tossed and turned for hours, huffing out a frustrated sigh many times into the dark bedroom. peeling your eyes open you peered at the alarm clock that read ten minutes to five in the morning. it dawned on you that it had been  almost six hours that you had been fighting to fall asleep.

shaking your head as you grumbled, you stretched your limbs as you pulled yourself from the bed. your bonnet slipped off in the process, but you paid it no attention. trudging out of the room to make way to the kitchen. grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you pulled the fridge open as you grabbed the bottle of juice and opened it. beginning to pour it, that's when you heard it—

it was the sound of familiar heavy boots hitting the wooden floors of your apartment. even though happiness played at the edge of your mind, your face barely portrayed it. you slightly jumped as your eyes met his own as he stood in the entrance of the kitchen. jason’s arrival was quiet, surely because he was confused about who was in your kitchen this time of morning. seeing as you were usually asleep.

“what’re you doing up, baby?” 

his question flowed through the air as he began to close the gap between you two. his helmet was nowhere to be seen, most likely tucked away somewhere in your apartment.

“couldn’t sleep,” your words came out rougher than you had intended. there was a beat of silence but it washed away as jason spoke again. his brows furrowed for a minute then relaxed as he rubbed a hand over his face, fingers running over his scars for a mere second. 

“so, before i forget, bruce wants the whole family to come over for dinner saturday,” he informed as he backed away slowly, sitting at your dinner table as he pulled off his boots. “said he’s not taking no for an answer.”

“jason, i don’t know—” you tried to inject, though he had not seemed to notice.

“i’m sure alfred will probably be cooking almost all day tomorrow, in preparation. everyone eats like they’ve never seen food before—”

“jason, fuck, i already have enough on my plate right now. my boss is up my ass every time i walk into the office. i’m up to my neck in paperwork, all because he decided to spontaneously lay off two of my coworkers. i haven’t been able to sleep one bit, even though i’m tired. on top of that, i have to work on saturday. i don’t have the time to worry about a fucking dinner at bruce’s house.”

the kitchen filled with silence as you stood in front of the fridge. jason’s eyes taking in your current state as he sat still after your outburst. your braids cascaded down your back, but the few that slipped over your shoulder to frame your face made him aware of the bags that began to form. you looked overwhelmed, stressed even. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize at first — which usually doesn’t happen.

“…you do seem tired, baby. i’m sorry i didn’t notice,” jason broke the silence. “how about we go to the room, i know exactly what you need to get to sleep.” 

“no, jay i’m sorry– ”

“it’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. i’m not angry,” jason ensured as he stood and walked over to you. grabbing at your free hand and pulling you towards him, taking the cup of juice from your hand. your head laid on his chest momentarily. “how about you go to the room? clothes off for me by the time i get in there, pretty girl.”

the weakening bed frame squeaks once again as you drop onto the mattress, jason grabs onto your ankle and dragged you closer to him as he got on the bed soon after. grabbing softly at your face, he slightly squished your cheeks together as he leaned down towards you to plant a peck on your lips that drifted into a heated kiss. without words, he pulled away, placing slow, open-mouth kisses down your neck — one of his hands grabbing at one of your breasts as he tweaked and played at your nipple. 

you felt completely vulnerable with how he was completely dressed; having quickly showered in the guest bathroom to give you some space. jason had dressed in a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants. his scent flooding your senses

“ you feel so soft, baby,” jason complimented,  “ ‘could play with this pretty body all day, every day.”

his words pulled a moan from your lips. reaching out to brush your hand over his hair you let out a small gasp as his lips wrapped around the nipple he had just toyed with. your hand tightened just a little around his hair, a flurry of black and whitened strands peaking through your finger as your acrylics ran over his scalp. his tongue dragging soft circles around the hardened bud at that moment. pulling away after almost two minutes, jason placed a kiss right above your nipple — then repeated his earlier actions with your neglected nipple. 

“pretty fucking tits,” jason grunts, eyes darkening as he looks up at you with your nipple between his lip, “such a beautiful girl.” 

“shit— thank you, daddy,” you let out as his hand snaked between you two. pushing your thighs that parted to accommodate him apart even more. feeling his rough fingertips part your slick folds in a teasing manner, you whined for some sort of friction and lifted your hips at his actions. to which jason listened as he sat his palm right above your cunt, thumb dipping downward to rub tight and heavy-handed little circles over your clit. 

“ ‘s that feel good, pretty girl?” 

“y—yeah,” you stutter out. 

“you know all i wanna do is make you feel good, right?”

“yeah, you make me feel so good, jay”

“so the next time you feel overwhelmed,” jason began as he began to lay kisses down your torso, stopping just below your navel, “don’t bring that attitude to me. just talk to me, ‘ya understand?”

“yes, f—fuck, i’m sorry daddy,”

locking eyes with you, jason licked a long stripe over your cunt. his tongue caressing your attentive clit. he did it a few more times before wrapping his lips around your hardened bud, taking harsh sucks at it as if he were trying to pull an orgasm from you. 

“ ‘taste so fuckin’ good,” jason spoke as his eyelids became heavy with lust, “nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout baby.”

feeling his hands drag over your inner thighs your hips seemed to move on their own as you attempted to grind against him. only for jason to let out a moan around your clit, hands now close enough to feel a thick finger prodding at your slit. sliding in slowly as his eyes trained on your face. the drag of his finger in and out of you was mind numbing as he found your most vulnerable spot within mere seconds — feeling you clench around him in approval of his actions.

“ ‘you gonna cum all over daddy’s face?”

“yes…!”

your dragged-out and whined confession was followed by almost immediate proof. the walls of your cunt clench around jason as he adds a second finger, tongue still dragging over your clit. a sheen of your cream decorating his fingers as you came crashing down.

“that’s it, baby, let it out,” jason spoke as softly as he could. lapping at every bit of your essence he could take in as if he would be ripped away at any second. though, your release did not stop him. his fingers continued to work you open as he pulled his mouth away from your cunt. watching as you clenched around his fingers repeatedly from the lack of a break. adding a third finger, jason listened to the moan you squeaked out in response. 

he was so attentive towards you, so it had not  shocked him when you declared that you were on the verge of cumming yet again. instead, he buried his tongue between your folds once again. his tongue heavy and wide as he parted your cunt. licking and kissing at your clit as if he were making out without it. 

“j—jay don’t stop,” you begged as your hips chased after his tongue. 

“mhm,” he hummed in agreeance, the vibrations from his response knocking you over the edge. the last moan you drew out hitched in your throat and slowly progressed into a slight whine. your thighs closing around his head, to which jason used his free hand to open them once more.

“there you fucking go, good girl,” jason groaned out a praise, laying a single kiss on your clit before he sat up from his position on the bed. bending down towards you to plant a messy kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as he pulled back you took in his disheveled look as he took in your somewhat dazed look from reaching your high twice. watching as he pulled his shirt off, you were greeted by the scar that spanned across his chest and abdomen.

“that was just two,” jason spoke, “i want to see you cum until you can’t think.” 

it was something you knew he would follow through with. especially when he laid you back down, spreading your legs once more as he tugged his sweats and boxers off in one go, getting you to wrap around his waist. with his knees digging into the mattress he slid his cock back and forth between your sticky folds, groaning as his tip met your clit and caused you to twitch due to sensitivity. wasting no time, he lined up his tip with your entrance. sliding in gently, he placed a hand between your breast, slightly pushing you into the mattress, while his other hand gripped your hip.

you could feel him filling you inch by inch, stretching you out as he pushed himself into you. your mouth slightly agape as he reached the hilt and left you with a moment to adjust.

“you’re so tight,” he slurred out, “ ‘thought i opened you up enough with my fingers, baby. loosen up for me.”

“i’m trying, jay— fuck, ‘feels like you’re in my stomach,” you replied in shaky voice. which only caused jason to grin in response. 

“you poor thing, you can take it. i know you can.” 

pulling his hips away from your own he swings them downward onto you, repeatedly. drawing — in his own words — the prettiest sound from your lips. his own moans and grunts slipped through at times, his sounds making you feel just as good as his actions. 

“oh shit, you feel so good daddy,” you swore as your fingers found a purchase wrapped around the hand pushing you into the mattress, the scars decorating them lying just beneath your fingertips. his strokes were sensual and deep — like he planned on driving you crazy. if he wanted you to think of nothing else but him he was definitely on the right track.

“yeah…? i want you to show me how good it feels. cum for me,” jason stated as his hand reach up at your cheeks, “you know what i want. let me see you cream all over me again.” 

“jason you’re so nasty,” you forced out as his hip persisted. you were growing a bit embarrassed at how you were squeezing at jason’s cock, his stamina surely helped him wade off his release. 

“i know you ain’t complaining,” he said with a huffed out laugh. a few swears falling from his lips as he pushed the feeling of wanting to cum far down his list of priorities.

“i—i’m not, shit, i’m cumming…!”

“cumming so good you’re trying to milk me i swear,” jason groaned out as he watched the layer of your sticky orgasm cover his cock, “fuck— not yet though, ‘gotta make sure i take all that stress away.”

it felt like he had already done so, with the way your mind became fuzzy as you surged through your third release. jason’s hips barely skipping a beat as he fucked you through it, prolonging the feeling of ecstasy. your words were starting to fail you as he pulled you down the mattress and stood to his full height at the foot of the bed. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder, the other following soon after as he pulled you into a mating press. 

grabbing at his forearms that he planted firmly on each side of you, you swore you could feel him everywhere as he pushed himself into you again. the feeling starting to become overwhelming as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. kissing at your brown cheeks he stilled for a moment as his eyes softened. 

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” jason spoke as his lips met yours again, “i’m so lucky to have such a hardworking, intelligent girl.”

amidst him praising you, he began to move. feeling as though he was trying to dig you out in the current position. 

“ ‘l—love you,” was all you seemed to let out as your words drifted off into useless babbling. his hips hitting the back of your thighs with each thrust as he planted a kiss on one of your legs.

“you know i love you too, baby.”

the room seemed to grow hotter as the bed frame below you squeaked at jason’s well paced thrusts. the little hair that began to grow in on his happy trail becoming covered in your slick as he rubbed against your clit with each thrust.

this time you were unable to even form the words to warn him of what was to come. you felt a tightness in your lower stomach that seemed to get worse with each movement from him. but this one felt different. the constant rubbing against your sensitive cunt in combination to him stretching you out was like he was trying to break you.

“that’s it, i know. i know, baby,” jason cooes as he reads your face, “all you need is to be fucked out. make a mess for me.”

you swore you saw stars as you gripped at jason’s arms. surely leaving impressions of your acrylics on his skin as you came. spurts of clear fluid bouncing off his abdomen as he continued to push himself in and out. 

“f—fuck, i need you to do that one more time.”

it was not long before you found yourself on top of him, bouncing as good as you could with how tired you were becoming. pushing his cock into your overly spent cunt, he had let you sink down at your own pace. it took everything in him to hold himself back but tonight was not about him. jason wanted to live up to his earlier statements: all he wants to do is make you feel good.

he watched as your bouncing started to become sloppy, your legs weak from the many times you had cum before. reaching his hands out, he intertwined his fingers with your own as he took in your fucked out state. 

“need me to help you, pretty girl?” 

“y—yes please,” 

that was all it took for him to pull you towards him. your head falling onto the white pillows beside his head, your face right next to his. taking a second to place your hands behind your back, he held your wrist together with one hand as he grabbed at your waist with the other. your knees stayed planted onto the mattress as he positioned himself. fucking up into you, his own hips pushing you up and down. the bedframe squealing under his continuous movements seemed to encourage him even more.

“ ‘treat me so good, daddy,” your whines were broken and tired. he was sure you would sleep nice and good when you two were done. but for now a chuckle left his mouth.

“you deserve it,” jason spoke in between his own breathy moans, “you work so hard, fuck—  yeaaa… squeeze me just like that. you are worth everything, baby.” 

the tears that had been playing at your eyes since he had you at the edge of the bed seemed to fall at the ringing of his words in your ears. feeling your heartbeat quicken and your stomach tighten you forced yourself to make sense through your nonsense rambling.

“ ‘wanna kiss, jay.” 

to which he didn’t complain. his hips never faltered as he turned his head towards you, connecting your lips once again. groaning as he felt you gripping around his cock as if he were attempting to leave your soaked cunt.

“want me to fill you up?” he questioned in between the kiss. a question you tried your best to answer but only forced out a mumble of mhm, yea. 

it didn’t take long, as you reached your peak, squirting once more as it dripped down jason’s balls. his lips were still on yours as his hips stuttered, moments later flooding your cunt with ropes of white cum. despite not looking down, you could feel his cum leaking from between your legs as you gushed around him. only for him to fuck back up into you a few more times before slowly pulled himself from your pussy.

“how do you feel, baby?” he questioned as he let your hands go. the hand that was on your waist moving to remove a braid from your vision as it had begun to slip as he adjusted himself under you. he had put his body flat against the mattress and allowed you too just lay on him in your fucked out state. 

“tired,” you replied as much as your worn out body would allow you. 

“how about we go pee, then when we get back we can both sleep all you want? i don’t have to handle patrol tomorrow, Dick’s got it covered.”

“mhm…i’d like that.”

“thought so. and don’t worry, i’ll handle that boss of yours, go ahead and call off for Saturday,” jason smiled fondly as he grabbed at your body. gearing up to pick you up and help you to the bathroom.