#maybe it’s being generous but like. maybe this story COULD have worked if it had been an intependent project or separate star wars story

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Twelve Days: Part 3**

Part 3 of this littel series! Thank you for your patience and for reading this story! I will create a post for all the parts soon! Hope you guys enjoy and feel free to send theories or any ideas that you guys would want me to consider incorporating.

Warnings: infidelity, break ups, mentions of depression and anxiety and their symptoms, mentions and use of alcohol and drugs, breast/ nipple play, oral sex (m and f receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms

WC: 7.8K

Day Nine:

Harry’s POV:

Harry was still reeling from that steamy night you two had shared a couple days prior. He was relieved that you weren’t regretful of what had happened that night. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if you’d shut him out afterwards. He wasn’t regretful of what had happened but maybe just a little bit upset of how it had happened. He never wanted you to feel like he had done that because he was lonely, like you’d said then. Or worse, to get back at Julie for her infidelity. In all honesty, he just liked being around you more than he remembered.

He really was worried that this would feel out of the blue for you. But, meanwhile Julie was off with this Joe guy this time around, he was growing apart from her and his love for her was starting to fade. You were also dealing with a lot and he had wanted so badly to check in and to talk to you, to be there for you, but you had asked for space from everyone and he wanted to respect that. He felt that he could have reached out anyway, just to let you know that he had your back or was there to support if you ever needed it, but he hadn’t. And now, he was a bit concerned that this all would seem like a convenient time for him to get close all to just hook up with you.

The context in general just had his anxiety skyrocketing and he was struggling to play it cool. Even the fact that you were playing it so cool had him worrying just a bit more because he liked you! And maybe to you it was just a thing that you’d done in the heat of the moment and again, he’d end up with hurt feelings. He would jump at the opportunity to do it again though, that’s what was scary to him. And well, like he had mentioned to you before, it wasn’t like he was just realizing what a catch you were. He knew that from way before. And the more he got to know you over the years, the more he grew to care about. He had found himself admiring you before but it was never more than just a thought in the moment. When you started to date Ash you started to pull away from all of them and he didn’t like that. To him, it was red flag behavior to have a partner who always wanted you to change things for the relationship to work. You were sacrificing a lot to keep that relationship going. And sure, you put on a happy face when someone you love asks you to do something for them but moving to the other side of the country where you know no one? Being away from your family? You had done everything you could and still, you were left high and dry.

A part of him understood what you had said when you told him that you felt weak for letting Ash affect you that way. He was familiar with the feeling, he had allowed your sister’s infidelity slide before. In a way, what he had going with her would be better than retuning to England and be neglected by his own family. At least here he knew that your family loved him and supported him. He had friends that were like his family, colleagues and mentors that were like parent figures to him and helped him get to where he was now. For all of that, he felt that staying in an unhappy marriage wasn’t such a big price to pay. But like all things we compromise our happiness for, it started to take a toll and now, he needed Julie to let him go.

Y/N’s POV:

After your first sexual encounter with Harry it was relieving to know that you were both on the same page about it. However, there was still a lingering fear over how far it would go the next time. Would there even be a next time? Should there even be a next time? The day prior had just been spent at the house relaxing with everyone, there were thankfully no weird or tense vibes between you. You’d gone out to shop for the Christmas meal ingredients and the rest of the ladies decided to tag along, which you were a bit bummed about because you wanted to take the time to think about what the fuck you were going to do about this thing with Harry. He was important to you, you did have love for him to a certain degree because he was part of the family, but now you were attracted to him and that could easily become something else. Something more…and well that would be weird, wouldn’t?

“Y/N!” Your aunt raised her voice as she waved her hand in your face.

“Huh?” You asked as you finally snapped out of your thoughts. 

“I wanted to know what wine the Christmas meal will pair well with?” She inquired. “I do prefer a white but depends on the red it goes with, I wouldn’t mind it.”

“I’m not too sure to be honest, just get what you like.” You assured her and she seemed satisfied with that answer before putting down the bottle of white she had picked up.

As you turned your gaze to find the scallions you locked eyes with your sister who gave you a slightly questioning gaze. To be fair, you did seem quite out of it and it wasn’t with no reason. You had a lot on your mind right now. When you located the scallions you started making your way over, not missing that she had followed after you.

“Hey, you good?” She asked you and you briefly turned to her and nodded.

“Yeah, just have a lot on my mind.” You explained.

“Mmm…with the holidays and all?” She asked and you just nodded. Obviously, she was asking if this had anything to do with Ash and you just agreed. “I do too. I’m really glad Harry got to be here for this. He really loves you guys and well, vice versa!” She explained, “But I do wish I could spend the holidays with well…” she trailed off.

“It’s that serious?”

“Yeah. Or at least to me. S’why he came a few days ago.” She said and you nodded. “I wonder what Harry’s gonna do when we split up…” she said quietly.

“I think he’ll be okay.” You assured her.

“Yeah… I do hope he finds happiness though.” She said and you felt your tummy do a funny flip when you wondered if you could make Harry happy? But that idea soured when you wondered if your sister would feel the same about Harry’s happiness if he wanted to explore that with you. Regardless, you let the thought go because it was a ridiculous one to ever consider. It’s not like anything with Harry could actually take off. You just offered her a smile before grabbing the little bunch of scallions and put them into the produce baggy. 

“Hey, ummm…I really just need some alone time today. Could you maybe talk everyone into going out for dinner so I can just cook something for myself and unwind a little?” You asked and she smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” She assured you.

With that, you felt a bit more at ease. You were looking forward to having some quiet time in the evening. That was until your sister asked if she could come into your room.

“Yeah, come in!” You called out.

“Hey, would you mind if Harry stayed behind with you? He’s not up for acting like everything is perfect with us.” She explained. You felt your body warming up at the sound of that. “He’s goo about keeping to himself.” She added in, as if you needed any further convincing.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You mumbled back as nonchalantly as possible.

“Okay, thank you. I don’t know if you noticed that he’s been sleeping in the room over here?” She asked and you nodded.

“I heard him coming in one night.”

“Okay. But I did tell him you really wanted some space tonight so he’ll be mindful of that.” She assured you.

“Thank you for going these lengths.” You smiled at her.

“It’s the least I could do for you after…you heard me out so graciously and-”

“You don’t need to thank me for that.” You assured her and she nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll see you tonight then.”

“You can also take them to get drunk afterwards if you want…” you added and she chuckled.

“We’ll see where the night takes us!” She said before leaving you.

After everyone had gone, you emerged from the shower and lazed around for a few more minutes undisturbed, which seemed a little odd to you. So you made your way out to the kitchen, thinking that you might coax Harry out to join you, but you were nearly done with your carbonara and he had not come out. You’d made enough for him, so decided to go get him. Your gentle raps on his door were greeted by him slightly opening up for you.

“Hey, I made carbonara for us for dinner.” You informed him and his lips quirked up a bit.

“Oh great, I was just about to order in.” He explained and your brows knotted together in confusion.

“You were gonna eat alone?”

“Well yeah, you wanted space, no?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s true but not necessarily from you.” You explained timidly and he smiled a bit wider. “Kinda thought you would’ve come to grab me the moment everyone was gone.”

“Normally yeah. But I just…I thought it was because of me, you know? That you needed some space.” He explained.

“Oh…ummm…I can’t say that our situation hasn’t been on my mind a lot.” You explained, “But it’s more to do with everyone looking at me like a wounded bird.” You explained and he smiled a bit. “Like I get it, but goes back to the pride thing we talked about before. I just hate that I feel like I’m doing good but then everyone looks at me like I’m not and it makes me feel like shit.” You elaborated.

“For the record you are not giving wounded bird vibes. It’s more non-combative and I think that scares your family a bit. They might think it’s a facade when it’s not. You’re just moving through the acceptance of it.” He said, “Well, at least that’s what I gathered from what I’ve seen and what we’ve talked about.” 

“Well, thank you for…seeing me.” You said softly and he smiled. “So…do you want to have dinner with me?” You asked again. And he didn’t need any further coaxing before he was serving himself the other half of the food before you two were sat beside each other on stools around the kitchen island as you talked about how your days had gone. Your laughter had just died down from a story Harry had finished telling and you reached over to him.

“Wait, wait, wait….” You giggled. “You had sauce on your chin.” You laughed breathily as he held still for you to swipe it away with your thumb.

“Thanks.” He hummed as you pulled your hand away to wipe it on the napkin by your plate.

“Of course.” You assured him.

“I’ve been…thinking a lot about what happens when we go back home.” He said and the lightness of the mood started to fade.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… like I…I care about you a lot and I don’t want you to feel like I just used you and I too don’t want to feel… used. I think it would hurt a lot more coming from you.” He explained. “But then, I also understand that no matter how we go about this, it’ll look really bad on us if we decide to…you know?” He said inquisitively and your gaze softened as you started to read between the lines of what he was saying. Did he want to try to be with you? “I don’t even know what I’m saying any more just…forget about it.” He mumbled.

“Harry.” You sighed as you reached for his arm. Your palm anded gently over his bicep. He looked up at you from his empty plate. “I don’t know what the fuck we’re even doing but I know that I feel safe with you. I feel taken care of. You hear me and see me. And whether it’s right or wrong, I have a huge fucking crush on you too.” You admitted “Just saying, you know? In case you…didn’t pick up on that before.” You said with less confidence now as you started to feel a little uncertain of the vulnerability you had just displayed. 

However, before you could second guess yourself any further, Harry was reaching for your face and leaning in as his lips kissed yours. You easily melted into his kiss and started leaning into him as well. And as your kiss grew more heated you had been moved onto the couch. You could feel his arousal through his pants and it was making you lose your self-control. You were obsessed with the way his arms squeezed around your waist so strongly, it made you feel small and delicate in his hold. It was different than with Ash, where you often felt like you were the one who did the caretaking. When he was holding you like this, you felt taken care. When he kissed you as deeply and intentionally as he was, you felt safe and warm from deep inside. 

“Let me suck you off.” you mumbled again his lips and Harry inhaled sharply.

“You don’t have to.” He breathed out.

“I want to.” You assured him, “Really badly.” You added, your eyes bore into his gaze, asserting your desire. “Please?” You asked softly as you placed a single kiss on his lips and then pulled back. “Know you want me to, so stop pretending.” You hummed with a smirk as you kissed his chin, then his jaw, and then his neck, where you sucked gently.

Harry rolled his head to the side to give you the space to work down the column of his throat with your lips. You were gentle, to ensure you weren’t leaving any marks on him, no matter how badly you wanted to. Your hand started to slither up beneath his shirt, feeling up his abs and his taut chest before bringing your hand down to the elastic band of his sweats. Your finger teased at it before you slid back a bit on his lap, enough to grope around the bulge in his pants. He sighed shakily as you rubbed the heel of your palm over his cock back and forth, making him squirm beneath you. After a bit of teasing you started to slide down to your knees and there was no falsified chivalry on his end any more. Harry was rushing to slid his bottoms down to his ankles while you pulled one of the pillows to the ground to kneel more comfortably. And when his cock was standing tall before your face your mouth started to salivate. You were so impatient to get him into your mouth. You reached for him and give him a few gentle strokes. You smiled up at him as you heard his breath hitch. His hot and smooth skin was making you impatient, so you just lowered your face and gave a testing lick from the base to his tip. 

“Fuck, please get me into your mouth.” He muttered desperately. You smirked up at him and proceeded to part your lips and sucked his tip between your lips. You let your tongue swirl around it, finding the underside of it and rubbing against it. You felt his thighs flex beneath one of your hands as he moaned deeply. “Fucking hell…”

You were wet just from hearing his lovely sounds as you sucked him off. You slowly started to take more, enjoying the feeling of his fingers tangling into your hair and helping you keep the pace that was making him shiver. He was bigger than your previous partners, so you were struggling with not being too sloppy, but he didn’t seem to mind it. Specially as you gagged around him as you tried to get him in all the way.

“Fuck, just use your hand for now. S’okay, you’ll get it eventually.” He assured you and that alone had your pussy fluttering, your walls were pulsing steadily from how turned on you were. 

Harry was encouraging and vocal and it was the hottest thing that you’d ever experienced. Even more so as he held you gently by the head and started to thrust into your mouth, you relaxed your jaw to help him get in as deep as he was craving. His muttered curses and praises were music to your ears. Despite that tearfulness in your eyes, you were thinking about when the next opportunity you’d get to do this again would be. He was getting close to coming from what he was saying and you were desperate to get a taste of him. You started to suck around his tip again and started to stroke at the pace he’d been thrusting, taking over once again. You felt his body just relax into the couch as one of his hands skimmed over your cheek, feeling the bulge of his cock against it.

“I’m gonna come…fuck…” he moaned deeply as your hot, little mouth worked him to his climax. And moments later you could feel his body starting to tense up beneath you. His breath hitch and you glanced up at him, his head was thrown back into the cushions, eyes squeezed shut as his jaw started to slack until the deepest moan flowed from his mouth as he started to come. His hand went back to your hair, gripping it hard as he held you in place until you felt the first spurt of his cum pooling on your tongue. You moaned around him in response which made his cock twitch as he started to shoot more of his sperm into your mouth. You swallowed around him quickly before you felt a few more spurts fill your mouth with his warmth and flavor before he was panting and threading his fingers into your hair. His thighs were trembling as you gave a few gentle sucks to clean him off before you pulled away from his length and let it plop down against his thigh.

He was still half hard and it made you wonder if he’d get back to full size if you played with him ever so gently. But that plan was soon cut short as he pulled you up onto the couch until you were laying across it. Harry was laid on his side as he kissed you and help you get your own pants and under wear down your legs until his fingers were skimming over your labia and then sliding down to your entrance to feel your arousal. You were so fucking wet, it was embarrassing in the slightest. He spread your arousal around you and started to rub against your clit with two gentle fingers. The circular motions were dizzying as you kissed sloppily. Your legs were spread for him, allowing him ease of access while he pleasured you. 

“Please.” You whispered as his two fingers teased at your entrance. He smirked and then sat up and placed the throw pillows beneath your back to prop you up enough against the  inner corner of the couch and then he sunk down between your legs onto his knees. You had a perfect view of him kissing up your thighs as he guided one of your legs over his shoulder and held the other open by the back of your thigh and planted it against the couch. 

When his lips met with your clit your walls clenched tight. Watching him was something different entirely, it was even more erotic to see him throw all caution out the window as he just buried his face between your legs. His hot, smooth tongue rolled over your clit in intentional swipes until you were trembling. You were pressing him even closer to you, grinding up against his face as you did everything you could to feel even more than you already were. When he finally put his fingers back in you were done for. 

Two of his thick digits were gliding in and out of your little hole with ease. The soft squelching sounds of the friction was making you eve more wet for him. The way he was thrusting in and rubbing into your g-spot and then sucking on your throbbing little clit was making your vision blur with pleasure. You just wanted to come for him and if he kept this up you would be making a mess. It was too much in the absolute best way possible. Your blood was flowing hot and heavy through your veins, you were completely losing yourself as your hips started to grind into his movements all on their own. You were right on the edge, just needing a few more seconds of his merciless fingers prodding into your g-spot to get you to come. A broken cry left your mouth and then it happened. Despite how badly you wanted to watch, your eyes squeezed shut and your head rolled back into the pillows as you started to come. 

“H-harry! Oh my god!” You gasped as he started to finger fuck you a bit harder and he started to rub at your clit with his thumb instead as he leaned over you now.

“Look at me. Right at me, baby.” He said lowly and your glassy eyes met with his and he smirked at the sight of you all fucked out from his fingers alone. “You’re squeezing so fucking hard. You’re gonna come again, aren't you?” He asked and you nodded, “Come on then. Come for me, baby.” He egged you on and kissed you to swallow down your sounds. 

Your walls were spasming around his fingers erratically. Your thighs were trying to close around his body but couldn’t as he was in the way. But thankfully, his pace and intensity started to diminish enough that you started to relax. And when he pulled his fingers from you he sucked them clean before delving back into your space to kiss you. Your lips smeared together sloppily for a few more minutes as you caught your breath and came down from your orgasms. 

“Alright?” He asked with a teasing smile and you nodded wordlessly, still reeling mentally. You pulled him back down for another kiss. This one was slow and deep, you both got lost in it for several minutes until the kiss ended naturally. “I really fucking like you.” Harry said softly and you felt your face going all hot with a blush.

“I really like you too.” You whispered back.

Day Ten:

To say that you were on cloud nine after your evening with Harry, was an understatement. You just felt good all around in a way that you hadn’t in quite a long while. Even the lingering concern of what you would do in regards to your sister wasn’t enough to break you out of this high you were feeling. 

  Not surprising, but everyone was pretty hungover from their dinner and drinks outing the night before. You and Harry had to go and pick then up nearly at 11pm. By then, you two had been cuddled up in your bed and watching a film but the call from Julie soon came for you two to come to their aid, one of you to drive them home and the other to drive back Julie’s car. All this to say that your morning was quiet. By the time you’d returned from your walk, showered, and sat for breakfast, only you and Harry were up and active and found yourselves on the lounge chairs, taking in some sun side by side. The look he gave you revealed that he wanted to be closer, but alas, that wasn’t possible in this particular setting.  

It was past noon when your sister emerged from the pool house, she had ordered in some food and was going to get it. The door bell ringing is what roused everyone else and you and Harry made them breakfast for lunch and aided them in balancing out the effects of the hangover. You had retired to your bedroom for a bit and you perked up at the soft knocks on your door. You were fully expecting to see Harry but saw your sister peeking in instead.

“Hey, do you have a few minutes?” She asked and you nodded, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. She dropped onto your bed and exhaled shakily. “Thanks for keeping Harry entertained. I know it’s not your responsibility but-”

“Oh no, it’s alright. We get along well and I’ve liked having someone to talk to.” 

“Okay. He seems to enjoy your company as well and ummm…I just…I don’t want you to get hurt any more. Like, maybe he’s doing other subconsciously, but I feel like he’s flirting with you a little just to make me jealous or upset? I don’t know…” she sighed and you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“I don’t get that feeling at all, Julie. I think that it’s nice for someone to see you and appreciate you when you haven’t had that for a long time. He’s not creepy and he doesn’t make me uncomfortable in any way. I think the way that you guys are all walking on eggshells around me trying to not make me feel overwhelmed with care, he’s just being a little bit more attentive towards me. That’s how he’s showing me that he cares about what I’ve been dealing with, you know?”

“And you’re okay with that?” She asked and you nodded.

“He’s not over bearing about it like mom and dad are.” You explained and she nodded in understanding. “Also, we’ve just…gotten a little closer with everything going on. We both needed someone to confide in, you know?”

“And what about me? I confided in you but you’re siding with him?” She asked and you sighed.

“It’s not that simple…I think we’re both in the position of being let down by people we were in love with.” You explained and she sighed.

“Right.” 

“Yeah and it’s just…easier to be there for each other when we know what it is that we’re dealing with, you know?” 

“Yeah. I get it.” She said curtly and then stood up wordlessly and left. You sighed and were tempted to go after her but decided to just give her some space before bringing it up again.

It was around dinner time when you had stepped out for a little smoke, you had skipped lunch and with this small tiff with your sister now on your mind, you weren’t feeling too hungry for dinner, but you needed to have something. Harry interrupted you and stepped out onto your small patio.

“Hey.” He greeted you and you smiled slightly.

“Hey…so my sister came by and basically wanted to know if I had noticed that you were being really friendly with me to piss her off.” you explained and he sighed. “I told her that I did see it in that way and that we were actually getting along really well and just sharing what we’ve been dealing with and that we were both bonding over the experience of disappointed by people we were in love with.” You continued, “And then she got upset and left. So if she’s pissed at you later it might be because of that.” You informed him.

“Noted…” he hummed and took the joint that you offered over. He took a hit before returning it to you.

“When we get back home, we should make time to hang out.”

“Of course we’re gonna hang out.” Harry said.

“I know that…but Julie might not be too happy about us being friends.”

“Is that what we are then? Friends?” He asked you with a small smirk.

“Yeah. We are…for all intents and purposes.�� You explained. “I just really don’t want her to keep thinking that you’re doing this to get back at her for cheating, you know? Maybe if she sees that we have a genuine connection she’ll be more open if anything more pans out.” You explained cautiously. You didn’t want to jump the gun with what this could be with him and you also wanted to protect your sister’s feelings.

“So, just to clear this up…down the line…if I asked you on a date…”

“I’d say yes.” You assured him with a timid smile as your eyes met his.

“Good to know.” He hummed with a smile. 

Day Eleven:

You had woken up feeling a bit more deflated. Your sister’s anger had carried over into the night and no doubt into this new day. She was also giving Harry an extra cold shoulder, not really worried about keeping up appearances, like she usually would. That night, she asked Harry if they could go out and talk. Harry did text you that she was still pretty pissed off and you just went to bed instead of waiting up for a visit from him. Sure enough, your theory was proven correct when you joined everyone for breakfast and your sister just shot a quick glance at you before carrying on with fixing up her plate. She also seemed to be ignoring Harry and was being curt with everyone else, so at least her wrath wasn’t limited to you.

But throughout the day, she just continued having drinks, keeping her buzz going until she just had to lay down for a bit. Your family celebrated on the 24th, given your mother’s cultural background so you counted her out of helping you with dinner prep and Harry jumped in, in her stead. You were having a lovely time with him and your mom to prepare the meal you’d all share later on before your gift exchange. After a couple hours of work you’d all gone your separate ways to get ready for dinner. You always did a family picture before eating, so you got slightly dressed up for that. You had just finished your make up and then got into your outfit. It wasn’t anything too fancy, just pair of brown, gingham print trousers and a green button up cardigan. You got some chunky, silver hoops on and left the chain you wore everyday around your neck. For the photo, you got into the ballet flats you’d brought, you’d definitely change back into your scuffette’s after the photo. With a few spritzes of perfume, you were hurrying out of your bedroom since you were being called to hurry up. You saw everyone already out in the living room, talking about what the best arrangement would be for the photo. In the end, you just sat criss-cross on the ground and after a few attempts everyone was pleased with how it came out and you all sat down for dinner. 

“Seems like Julie’s back to her normal self.” You said to Harry as she insisted on fixing his plate. 

“She’s just really fucking drunk.” He said quietly, “Lucky for us, she’s an affectionate drunk.” He mumbled and you hummed. 

Soon everyone was seated and you started having your meal together. Due to her drinking binge, Julie was definitely being the life of the party. At least for now, everything was going as it should have. You were all laughing and getting along, your worries being the last things on your minds. You rushed off to change after eating so that you could participate in the games more comfortably. And it did help, because you were having a lot of fun playing board games with everyone. You and Harry were exchanging heated glances the entire time and it was going by unnoticed thanks to everyone’s slight drunkenness. And soon after, you also enjoyed a couple rounds of karaoke to kill some time before opening the presents. When you guys did your traveling christmases you only did a secret Santa amongst each other since the main expense was the traveling bit. Regardless, your mother had gotten you the lovely earrings that you’d put on your wishlist and you immediately got them on. Everyone else seemed pleased with their gifts and maybe it was because they were so drunk. The first one to tap out was your sister, who disappeared to the pool house as you guys had a few more goes at the portable karaoke mic Harry had brought along before your aunt turned in and then your parents soon followed. It nearing 2am though, so you weren’t surprised and well, your issues with insomnia were coming pretty in handy as you and Harry had another go at a card game, Go Fish, for your benefit.

“You have to know that I’m a sore loser.” You warned with a grin.

“Well, you can work on it.” He chuckled quietly. “Do you have a five?”

“You suck.” You mumbled as you handed it over and he chuckled.

“Losers can get prizes too.”

“Like?” You asked with a smirk.

“Like…loser has to share their bed with me.” He said lowly and your lips twitched up in a slight grin.

“Looks like I have no more sets.” You decided and he laughed quietly before you also started giggling quietly. Eventually, you did lose, but in a larger sense, you’d won. 

Your lips met Harry’s gently through your giggles as he walked you down the dark hallway to your bedroom. Thankfully, you’d left the door ajar and you two were able to push inside easily. He closed it quietly before walking over to you and grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his own. 

Your kiss was slow and deep, absolutely dripping with the yearning that had been building up between you two over the night. The way his hands started to roam over your body made you feel desirable in the best way. You could get lost in your lust for each other and enjoy it completely. He was so warm, you wanted to feel him skin to skin. So you tugged at the hem of his t-shirt and he very quickly got the hint. Your lips made a quick smacking sound as they parted wetly from his. You reared back to allow him to get undressed and you took advantage and pulled off your top quickly. Before you even had a chance to unclasp your bra he was pulling the cups down and leaning down to suck at your nipple. You sighed happily as his free hand reached around you to get the bra off. You loved how impatient he was and appreciated his urgency. Next thing you knew, you were falling back onto your bed as he kissed over your right breast now. You whined lowly when he nibbled down with a little too much force on your sensitive little bud. Your tight grip in his hair reeled him back.

“Sorry.” He mumbled against your heated skin and then started kissing his way up to your lips again.

“S’alright.” You assured him before he pecked your lips again. “Ummm…I did have a question though… did you ummm…did you want to h-have sex?” You asked him with a slightly nervous tone on your voice.

“Eventually. But I think that tonight we both drank a little too much for comfort.” He brought up, “So to answer your question, yes. But tonight’s not the time. Tonight, I just kinda wanna lay here and hold you.” He hummed with a smile.

“Topless?” You asked and he grinned.

“If possible, yes. I like how it feels to be against you, skin to skin.” 

You felt your blood rushing up to your face at this suddenly romantic feeling blossoming between you two. He settled in beside you and draped his arm over your waist to hold you close. 

“What I said earlier about waiting? Was that the right answer?” He asked and you smiled.

“Definitely.” You confirmed. “But I still want to. I want to so freakin’ bad.”

“Stop with that please.” He chuckled before landing a gentle smack to your lower back. You grinned and then leaned up to land a gentle smooch to his bottom lip.

“Does that mean no kissing?” You asked.

“No, we can definitely kiss.” He mumbled as he dipped down and attached his lips to yours. Suddenly you heard the sliding door from the pool house open, meaning Julie had emerged. “Shit, shit, shit!” He whisper shouted as he  untangled his body from yours. You heard the sliding back door open as well, and just like that, she was inside. Harry was trying to find his clothes without turning on the light. 

“Harry?” You heard her calling from a distance.

“Hide! Just hide!” You rushed out as you heard her coming towards the hallway and calling for him again. 

Harry rushed out to your small patio and out of sight just as you heard your sister’s soft raps against his bedroom door. You sprung out of bed and grabbed a hoodie you had thankfully left on top of the dresser and rushed into the bathroom to get it on in case she decided to pay you visit. You had just put your hands through the sleeves when you heard your bedroom door open and the first thought you had was to flush the toilet and after a few moments you ran the tap to ���wash your hands” and then stepped out to see her splayed out on your bed.

“Fuck! What’re you doing here?!” You asked her, trying to sound genuinely startled by her presence.

“Have you seen Harry?” She asked you monotonously and you didn’t trust your voice, but spoke up anyway.

“Uhhh, nope.”

“He’s not in his room.”

“So he’d be here?” You asked.

“I don’t know…just thought maybe he said something to someone if he took off or something.” She then pressed herself up to sit and sighed. “The bed kinda smells like him.” She said softly.

“I think that’s you. You’re wearing one of his shirts.” You pointed out to her and she glanced down and then let out a little giggle. 

“Duh…Sorry…I just…I have a weird feeling.”

“About?”

“Him. He’s been…weird on this trip. Everyone was asking me about it at dinner the other day and I just, didn’t know what to say.” She explained.

“How about a little bit of the truth?”

“No. Way.” She said defensively as she got out of your bed.

“You can’t hide the truth forever. And you don’t have to tell them all the gory details just yet. But, just say that things aren’t going well between you two and are just deciding what the next move is. And not to rub salt in the wood or whatever, but I can’t imagine a world in which any person would be comfortable playing pretend for this long. Maybe you’re better at carrying secrets than he is? Specially if he’s only been keeping it for your sake.” You explained and she sighed.

“I feel like such an asshole every time I talk to you.” She muttered as she walked past you and out of your bedroom. “I’m going to go back to bed.” She said lowly and then closed the door behind her. 

You waited in complete silence, ear pressed against the door to ensure that she was actually heading off and when you heard the sliding door to the backyard open you quietly opened up your own little patio door and Harry hurried inside, trembling from the cold.

“Jesus, m’nearly hypothermic.” He chattered and you were quick to pull open on of your drawers and hand over another sweatshirt you had. You liked them oversized, so you knew he could fit into it easily. And he was quick to pull it over his body and then pulled you into his arms to get more warmth.

“I think you should sleep in your room tonight. Julie, she’s got like a feeling about you or something. She seemed upset.”

“As if she had any right to be upset…” he mumbled.

“I know, but we just need to take it easy, I think.” You weighed in and he nodded.

“You’re right. One more day here and then we can figure things out.” He said quietly as he gave you a little squeeze and you nodded.

“Yeah, just one more day.”

Day Twelve:

It was Christmas Day, but it was also your last day at this house. After Julie’s little midnight run in you had a really hard time going back to sleep, so you started to pack up and then got tired around 6am before passing out for a few hours. It was nearing midday when you woke up again because of the commotion in the kitchen. You washed up and then headed out and greeted your family who were barely starting their first meal of the day. You had just finished fixing your plate up when you saw Harry and Julie approaching hand in hand. They were all smiles as they talked while taking their time to make it to the main house. It was so believable to see them like that, it made your stomach drop. And then you felt that ache in your chest that made your throat start to swell up in that familiar way it always did when you were sure to cry. 

“Looks like everything’s back to normal.” You heard your mom say before you just forced your gaze away and focused back on the task at hand. Whatever the hell was going on right now, you didn’t want it in your face, so you were planning on sneaking away to your bedroom to eat but where soon called out.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Your aunt asked loudly just as your sister and Harry made it inside. “Come eat with us! It’s our last day.” She insisted with an eager smile. But you were just glancing at Harry who immediately found a way to untangle his hand from Julie’s, but only to pull her into his side. You looked back at your aunt, ready to decline.

“Exactly! Our last day here. We should eat together.” Your father added in decidedly.

“Okay.” You said and found your seat between him and your aunt. 

To say that the PDA was on between Harry and your sister, felt like an understatement. This was reminiscent of the when they first started dating. At that time you were very observant and vigilant around Harry. He was new to your lives and you wanted to ensure that his actions matched his words. And obviously, they did and he absolutely fawned over your sister in a way that made you jealous. You were seldom jealous of her but when it came to this kind of attention, she always seemed to be the lucky one. The way her lovers would dote on her and adore her was unfamiliar to you. You hadn’t had that before. You’d always landed the worst people, wolves in sheep’s clothing. You had started to wonder if maybe there was something wrong with you because the way he was looking at her, whether it was genuine or not, was not something you had experienced before. And you wanted it so badly. You finished eating quickly and then slipped away, not wanting to have to look at that, at him, any longer. 

After a while, you heard everyone starting to head out to swim and you decided to stop being a party poor and join in. You had just stepped out of your bedroom when Harry stepped out of his room.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You responded.

“Look, about earlier-”

“No, don’t worry about it.” You shook your head, “It’s a me thing. You did nothing wrong.” You assured him.

“I’m still sorry.” He said and you smiled slightly.

“I must admit…I was a little…jealous too.” You confessed.

“Don’t be.”

“It’s just…always been a little neck and neck with us…a lot of comparisons and competition… so I just…get insecure around her sometimes.” You said as you looked down between you and focused on a spot on the floor. Confessing this to him was hard enough, you would be writhing in discomfort if you held eye contact.

“Look at me.” He insisted. “C’mon.” He insisted and you glanced up into his eyes and smiled at him and then he just surged forward and kissed you passionately. You were lost in it for a few moments before pulling away.

“Not smart.”

“I know, sorry.” He hummed and gave you one final smooch before pulling back. You then just looked at each other for a few moments and then you surged forward and grabbed his jaw and just as you started to tiptoe to reach him you heard a gasp and froze.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You heard your sister question angrily. 

“Jules, just leave it.” Harry cut in as you turned around. 

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking-”

“No! You weren’t! What the fuck?!” She whisper shouted. “I knew it!” She seethed. “Whatever the fuck this is, it ends with this trip.” She asserted, looking between the two of you. “I know that I fucked up but that’s still my husband.” She said to you directly now and you nodded.  “And you’ve been sabotaging me, haven’t you? To get to him?” She asked and you scoffed.

“No!”

“it’s not like that.” Harry chimed in and she glanced to him. “Don’t even act offended or territorial over me. You don’t love me.” He reminded her and she clenched her jaw.

“Whether we’re divorced or not, that’s still my sister. It’s fucked up.” She said. “This all ends here.” She stated firmly before rushing off. Your eyes met Harry’s in concern and he shook his head.

“It’ll be okay. It’ll all work out.” He assured you.

“I hope so.”

“It will. It’ll be our Christmas miracle.” He said with a small smile and your own smile started to spread over your lips. 

“Okay.” You whispered, deciding to believe him in that moment. You had to believe that everything would work out exactly as it should. These twelve days had been absolutely perfect and it couldn’t end there. There was definitely more to him. To you. And to what you could be together.

NEXT PART...

---- TAG LIST ----

@daphnesutton @mads3502 @triski73 @xoxxjada @fangirl509east @stylesftcher @charlottesrecommendations @taintedwonderland-blog @goobernickle @loverofhsandallthings1d

[fishuus]

i guess this is a rec list of stuff i liked in 2024?? no particular order, i just wanted to yak about some things i had a good time with.

bang brave bang bravern: maybe this isn't a legit comparison but i keep thinking of it as "what if samurai flamenco had a significantly tighter story (tomokazu sugita is also there)". if you like giant robots, you might like this. if you like a completely straight-faced commitment to the extremely funny bit of contrasting hard military scifi with the absurdity of classic giant robots, you might like this. if you're interested in sugita playing a robot who's a bottom, and also there's a lot of gay shit and the earnest power of true love, you might like this!

digimon story cyber sleuth & hacker's memory: a really fun set of turn-based jrpgs. cyber sleuth took me a while to warm up to (the localization could be better, to put it generously), but i came to enjoy its slightly offbeat sense of humor. hacker's memory, otoh, i loved from the start. it does a great job showing how cyber sleuth's story beats happened in parallel while still keeping the focus on a fantastic new cast and their own plotlines. the first game is a more standard digimon story about saving the world, while hacker's memory widens the perspective and shows a bit of the systems at play in the background. just a super satisfying game on every level for me.

shin godzilla: personally i love logging off work and my many meetings and watching a movie about a guy who has to go to even more meetings. i'm kidding, this was really fun (on account of all the meetings). i'll get to his kamen rider and ultraman movies too at some point.

gilgamesh (gardner & maier, also the david ferry version): paying my respects to the original yaoi 🫡

judgment: i wanted to try a rgg game without committing to playing 8 of them in order. turns out this is a perfect standalone game. it's such a tightly written story and character study, and it's really fun to play. kimutaku is so good at playing yagami so low-key, so tamped down, that when he explodes you really feel how angry he's been all along. the english cast is also great -- i enjoyed greg chun's take on yagami as well. (i played lost judgment too but wasn't quite so high on it. alas)

siren: watched sgf's excellent lp and loved this horror stealth game. the motion-capture work for the faces is a pretty cool workaround for the rendering limitations at the time while adding to the off-kilter vibe. i'm also a huge sucker for when studios lean into mixed media and use photos of real props (magazines, IDs in wallets, letters, etc) in their games. the story is kinda obtuse – and literally requires you to read extra official content to get some of the answers – but for something with such vague, stilted cutscenes with equally vague and stilted dialogue, especially with the added layer of a classic ps2-era english dub, i became attached to the entire cast stuck in this extremely bleak and scary scenario. i guess the best way i can sum it up is that it's a game that knows exactly how to play you.

digital devil saga 2: finished right before the world is actually set to end in 2025 in the game lol. it's so good!! i'm grateful that even after all this time, i managed to go into this mostly blind, because the way the plot reveal recontexualizes so much about the first game and the absolute rank relationship dynamics between some of the characters just blew me away. probably has some of my favorite character designs of all time, and i also think it's sooo fun to play thanks to my having turn-based long jrpg brain sickness. such an all-timer of a duology.

nine sols: i'm still not done with it on account of it being a parry-focused metroidvania and me sucking shit at both platforming and parrying, but it's great! it feels so confidently produced, kinda wild considering how different it is from their previous two games, devotion and detention (both of which i also highly recommend). the art and design work are beautiful, and i'm really enjoying how bleak the plot is. you can tell they made two horror games before this lol. i also love story mode. thank you, story mode.

風林火山韻雷 -bring it back-: lmao. anyway, it's a super fun song and mv that packs in everything i like about akyr (mixing traditional with modern both in the song and the imagery, high energy, everyone's great ofc but takayuki kondo especially killing it with that bridge, akyr making aggro songs about murdering their enemies).

[vircareris]

Here I am. In prison again. At least I'm not stuck forever. But 20 years in prison is a lot of time. Eigth times the total time I have served in jail, if we don't count my wait for trial due to this conviction. Other diference is last time I were in a more restrictive área of county jail as that time I wasn't there beacuse of a misdemeanor. Later I'll explain what happened.

Five have already passed but I have a long journey before being on the street again.

Prison isn't so bad, but county jail was much better. I wasn't in a small cell with only one cellmate to consume my patient with. Instead it was just chilling with your group of friends in the dorm. And the others being relaxed meant enjoying moment together with them

Is pretty similar in the sense of guards monitoring us, something I just don't care about, as my cellmate at least won't drag me to the whole. At least on purpose. And well, wearing orange t-shirts and trousers. And out footwear being orange to. Good combination. After spending time with other guys , my favourite part of jail. And it's still here. However for me it was new having big capital leters printed on my trousers, on the leg. I liked it. It's much cooler than just orange. Also other improvenent is we having tags with our info. Coming with a necklace. It's part of fashion.

Finally, at least this place is cleaner than county jail.

Now i'm just listening to music. My cellmate is hanging out on the bunk under mine. Resting after an audience wich went wrong.

His parole was rejected.

He's so calm beacuse it's not the first time. He has previous experiences falling with parole board. For him it was a diference of few months, but he says he will still be there when his daugther gives birth.

Well, he has already spent more than 9 years in prison. Few months won't make a big diference. Considering the time spent at county jail waiting for trial, by the moment he is released he will already have spent 11 years and three months behid bars. So four months is not like this is a big deal for him.

Once he told me why a man like him, with a job and a family could screw up his life like that.

Easy money. The paradox is his lawyer costed him much more money than the one he earned through ilegal activity.

My cellmate is waiting his release to meet his daugther again. And he's planning to stay there when his first grandson or grandaugther is born. To help her daugther with raising the child when she and her husband are at work. That's how he plans to compensate for the time he wasn't there for her and her brother there years.

He hopes that helps him making peace with his former wife. And maybe return. She was upset after he dragged family savings to pay for his legal defense. After he was sentenced, she divorced. Later she married other man, whose vices, even if not unlawful, deviated path of his stepson.

Also once he is released he's going to visit his son. who's also in prison, but in a diferent state. But that's other story. I'll just say my cellmate's son is serving 37 years. More than our total incearceration time together. Assuming neither him nor me puts a feet in prison again. However according to letter that guy wrote to his father, he is enjoying his time in prison.

I would say he is nuts but I had fun my time in county jail. But life had not played dirty tricks with me yet.

But he has acepted it. He has already made peace with his past and is making plans for his future. He basically acepted he was really stupid and now is preparing himself to continue his life outside.

Seeing he calm is so annoying for me. He has somewhere to go, a lovely daugther waiting for him, and soon he will become a grandpa. His family has two generations after him. And her daugther lives at a farm now, wich used to belong to her in laws, and her husband inherented.

So he will go from this concrete box to a house surrounded by green, in the country. To live a relaxed life.

Meanwhile I have no home, as I used to live in a rented apartament. It wasn't much but it's bigger than my cell. Althougth smaller than my dorms at county jail. Honestly I found jail more confortable than that apartament.

Also I have no offspring. Neither a woman I want to make peace with. Yeah, I had a fiancee, but I don't think she wants to go back with me. Last time I knew about her was last month, when she, after years without comunicación, sent me a photo of his wedding.

Seeing him so optimistic it's so annoying, so I need music to distract myself. I just have to be patient some time and wait for other guy who was stupid enough to screw up his life to become My new roomie. It's just few months and he will be gone. And not, I don't mean he will be gone in that way. At least not if I want to get out of this place ever. Even if it's hard to find a reason.

But being mad at a man was the reason I am here.

A year passed had since my release. After leaving prison, thanks to my girlfriend's mom I found a new job in a week. It was in a pet shop. From jailbird to selling birds. And others pets to of course. Whatever. I was in charge of cleaning actually.

But I could pay rent at least. Next year I found a better job in a retail company and started fixing electronics as a freelancer. At least I could pay rent. A year later, since I had not been arrested again, I was ready for the next step. Taking advantage of my financial and legal stability I decided to propose marriage to my girlfriend. So I saved money for the next months to buy her a good ring. And finally I purchased it. She agreed to marry me. A year later we started preparing for the wedding.

But one afternoon his cellphone rang. That notification. A disaster. I discovered he had a lover. We had an argument. I discovered she had her first affair with other men the year before I was arrested for first time. But it didnt last long. She ended admitting started the guy of the messages shortly before my fourth arrest.

I forgave her. But we froze plans for wedding until following year. Fortunately we had not hired any service yet or spent a single cent.

When we decided to resume, she looked for dress and a place for the party. But before we Made a decission the incident happened. I got out of job two hours earlier. I went home just to find her in bed with a new guy. I was furious and I violently assaulted the other guy. He run from my Home but I chased him for few meters. He ended with life threatening injuries. That's why I got so many years in prison.

In the dorm.

[ahalliance]

qantoine’s coping mechanism to feeling left behind being both self-isolating and becoming possesive of those he cares for is so juicy as a concept . like yeah you go you funky creachure, manifest those complicated and sometimes contradictory emotions

[asmodeusamaryllis]

I don't think I can keep being open minded to n@tl@n guys

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[daydreamerdrew]

Tales of Suspense (1959) #92

[thewritergx]

Caught in the Act: Stepdad!Joel Miller X F!Reader

Summary: Joel catches his stepdaughter with her boyfriend and decides to show her who’s really in charge. 

Warnings: Unhappy marriage, mommy and daddy issues, drinking. Smut Containing: Age Gap (Reader is 18+ with undisclosed age, Joel in late 30s), Joel is your stepdad (don't read if your not into that), Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Caught in the Act (Reader with secret boyfriend), Jealousy, Cheating, Spanking, Fingering, Kissing, Oral (F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V, Creampie, Pet Names: Darling, Baby girl, Little girl, Daddy. 

Word Count: 4.5K

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune. Free color text generator. If you'd like more Joel Miller stories, please go check out @pearlessance.

In the beginning, Joel Miller had hoped he would make a great stepfather. He hoped he would get along with you, find ways to make you laugh, get to know all your interests, and maybe help with schoolwork. He had been a father before, after all. He was sure he could do it again, even if you were already a teenager with your own life. He could guarantee you were safe, loved, and had a warm bed to come home to.

But, it turned out, you were completely different than what he had experienced with his daughter, Sarah. She was grown now, off to a big city hours away from him. Joel always thought she was easy to raise, but after living with you for the past two years, he was one hundred percent sure being a stepdad was nearly impossible. Now, he would settle to know he was a ‘kinda okay’ stepfather. 

Joel knew that you hadn’t really done anything wrong. You were a good girl, always coming home before curfew, making all A’s in your senior year, and never bringing around any shitty dudes. But fuck, if you weren’t slowly ruining his life with your little outfits and teasing glares. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, the way your eyes lingered on him, but he could feel you in the back of his mind all the time.

Maybe it would have been easier for him to manage if it happened slowly, the gutted feeling he got when looking at you. But it came on fast, like a truck traveling ninety miles per hour into a brick wall the day you moved in. He hated to admit it, but a part of him deep down in the darkest pits of his decaying soul, loved it. A kind of unimaginable pain he craved constantly, like when you get a small bruise and can’t help but press into the discolored skin. You know that icky, repulsive feeling you get when you touch wet food in the sink? That was how he felt every time he looked at you, his skin recoiling into itself as you hugged him goodbye, your arms wrapped loosely around his waist.

The fantasies were the absolute worst, haunting him like an uninvited spirit watching in a dark corner of every room. He would imagine the most ghastly, devilish images when he was alone. Ones where you would be all spread open for him, letting him devour your swollen pussy while he pumped his fingers in and out of you. Ones where you were waiting on your knees at the front door, a perfect set of lingerie displaying your tits as you sat with your mouth open, waiting for him to come home from work and fuck your little throat. Ones where you were screaming into your pillow as he stretched you open with his thick cock, pounding you into the mattress until you were begging him to stop. It was driving him insane. Insane like he couldn’t control himself. Insane like he wondered if he might have needed to get some serious professional help.

There was a time when he had truly loved his wife. At least he thought he did, hoped it. But she was always so busy, traveling out of town for some important work conference or meetings. He hated being lonely in his own home, hated that he fell asleep knowing you were right down the hall, no one stopping him from sneaking into your room and taking you like a dirty little whore. You didn't deserve it. He knew you were a good girl, an intoxicating innocent clouding his mind. It was exhilarating but left a bad, sour taste in his mouth, sort of like biting into a rotten piece of fruit. His wife was becoming more of an annoyance, her body never helping ease the pain of you. He would try, truly he would. But every time her hands landed on his skin, he thought of you, sleeping alone down the hall. 

“Joel?” Tommy waved his hand in front of his face, “Joel?”

Joel shook his head, eyes darting to his brother and thoughts snapping back to reality. “Huh?” Joel pitched the bridge of his nose before running his hand through his hair. “Sorry. Uh, what were you sayin?” He sat quietly across from Tommy, his broad shoulders pressed lazily into the small booth, red vinyl sticking to his back. 

“You okay? You haven't listened to a word I’ve said.” Tommy laughed, taking a swig of his beer and eating stale french fries. 

“Actually, I ain't feeling very good. Think I might be sick,” Joel muttered his words, hoping he was putting on a believable show. He felt fine. He just wanted to be back home. Back with his girl. As much as he loved his brother, he was begging to be close to you, not in some shitty dive bar avoiding the flirty glare from the bartender. 

“You should get home, rest.” Tommy stood, throwing down a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket. 

“Yeah, it's getting late anyway”. Joel dragged his body from the booth, slamming down the rest of his drink and grabbing his keys. 

It took everything in Joel’s body not to sprint to his truck, his boots stomping across the gravel parking lot. He jumped into the truck, the engine rowing to life. His jaw was clenched, music vibrating through the speakers as he gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white and tight against the worn out leather. 

He stumbled into the house, shoulders dropping and his eyes falling to the cold hardwood floor as he walked inside. The house was eerily quiet, the living room dark and empty. He had expected you to be in your usual place, sitting on the couch, wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a crop top that somehow showed way too much and nothing at the same time. His hands rested at his sides, eyes darting to your bedroom with a slight frown. 

You knew it was wrong, the way your panties instantly soaked in a pool of arousal anytime you were alone with Joel Miller. It was happening at an alarming rate lately, your mother always gone on work trips or fancy dinners. It was agonizing, your skin constantly on fire for a man you could never touch. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact day or even moment when you started pinning for the man. He was just always around, messy hair always falling in his eyes in the morning, eyes sparkling in the sun as he mowed the grass, and the way he rolled his sleeves up, the material hugging his toned shoulders as he washed the dishes. He was a goddamn masterpiece waiting for you to fall apart and end up in arms. It was wrong on every account. He was rough, older than you by a good fifteen years. Not to mention, he was married to your mother. 

You relished in the fact you were finally home alone, the perfect opportunity to get yourself some type of release from the constant yearning. Joel didn't like leaving you alone. Your mother was already gone all the time and he wasn’t going to be another person in your life too busy to show up when you needed him. As much as you loved being around him, feeling his gaze from across the room, you needed a night to yourself. You knew you shouldn’t. You wanted to respect Joel and his house, but it wasn’t nearly enough to stop you. 

You laid on your bed, a loose t-shirt hanging off your shoulders, goosebumps rising over your body. You had been seeing a guy for a few months, keeping him a tightly wrapped secret. He was sweet, tall, and smart. The boy hovered over you, his hands falling to your hips as you grind into him, lips lightly parting and panting breaths flowing from you. His fingers grazed the hem of your red panties, the material hugging your waist. He brushed his lips over ours, pulling you into a gentle kiss. Not enough to send any sparks but enough to leave you whining and body raving. His hands traveled lower, dipping just inside your panties. You gasp, bucking your hips into his hand for any type of friction. You were so close to a release, hoping it would help settle the growing need for Joel. You had to stop yourself from imagining him, stop yourself from moaning his name as the boy dipped a finger inside you. 

Joel stood in the living room, debating on whether to knock on your door. Maybe you were hungry? Maybe you needed help with that new anatomy project? He lingered towards the door, hand hovering over the handle when he heard a quiet whimper. He listened for a moment longer, the sound of small moans reverberating on the other side. He should knock, he knows that. But in a second of impulse, he was swiftly throwing the door open.

“What the fuck?” Disdain dripped off his tongue, his broad shoulders standing in your doorframe as you lay on the bed, legs spread open. The boy’s hands roamed over your body, kissing your neck and palming at your panties. 

“Joel, oh my god! Get out,” you yelped, quickly pushing the boy off of you. You watched as the muscles in Joel’s jaw tightened, the veins in his throat contracting as he swallowed a huff of air. 

The boy stood in front of you, helpless fear written all over his face. “I’m uh...I-I’m gonna go,” he muttered, quickly throwing on a pair of Nike Sneakers. God, he looked pathetic. Weak and small next to the man you had really been longing for. 

“Yeah. You do that.” Joel cut his eyes at the boy, begging him to give Joel a reason. Joel wanted nothing more than to throw that kid against the wall and fuck him up so bad the cops would have to drag him out. But, he held back, hands crossed around his chest, the muscles in his shoulders flexing against his body. The boy awkwardly slipped through Joel, his eyes on the floor and shoulder shrugging. He squeezed himself between Joel’s large frame and the doorway, quickly leaving with a slight slam of the front door. 

You felt your body trembling, the edge of euphoria quickly fading and leaving you feeling empty. You felt your throat go dry, fingers shaky as you looked at Joel, your eyes darting between him, the floor, and your quivering fingers. 

“Who the hell was that?” Joel stepped into the room, scanning the way your bottom lip pouted, eyes full of regret and fear. It was cute, the way you were avoiding looking at him, but he needed to see the look in your eyes when he was talking to you. 

“No one,” you whispered, voice barely audible over the sound of Joel’s hitched breaths.

“No one? You let…no one touch you like…that?” Anger rose higher, Joel’s voice thick with venom and a hint of disgust.

“N-No. I-I.” You shifted in your bed, sitting on the mattress with a ‘thud’. “He’s just some guy I’ve been talking to”.

“Does this ‘guy’ have a name?” Joel stood at the foot of your bed, his feet planted in the carpet. His eyes filled with darkness. 

“R-Ryan.” You spoke matter-of-fact, skin growing hot with embarrassment. 

“Ryan?” Joel sucked his teeth, his tongue pressed against his lips as he repeated the boy's name. Stupid and plain, he thought. He wasn’t even hot. He looked like a fucking nerd. Were these the kind of guys you actually liked? He definitely wasn't good enough for you and Joel could guarantee whatever he was about to do with you would have been over in five minutes. You deserved so much more than that. Deserved a real man. A man who could give you everything you needed, leave your body exhausted and voice raspy from screaming. “And what were you and ‘Ryan’ doin’?” 

You somehow mustered up the courage to look up at Joel, your cheeks flustered and on the verge of tears. “Nothing,” you mumbled again, eyes quickly falling down Joel’s body.

“Didn’t look like nothin’. Looked like you were about to spread those little legs for him. Were you gonna let that kid fuck you?” Joel stalked towards you, his large frame lingering over you like a lion stalked its prey. 

You cringed at his words hating the way it made your body all hot. “N-No! I swear. I wasn’t. I just…” You shifted again, pulling your shirt down in hopes of hiding the wetness formed in between your thighs.

“Just what? You were just under him, lettin’ him rub your pussy and you weren’t gonna fuck ‘em?” Joel grabbed your chin, his calloused fingers pulled at the soft skin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze as his thumb stroked your cheek softly. 

“I-” You tried to speak, words harshly cut off.

“Were you gonna suck his dick?” Joel dragged his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing into the soft skin. “Think that kid could actually give you what you need?”Joel chuckled, a sinister vibration shuddering through you. “You need to learn some goddamn respect, sweetheart. Bringin’ a boy like that into my house”. 

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. Please, I-I thought you would be gone longer.” Every nerve on your body is electrified with the soft touch of Joel's callous hands, a heavy contrast between his words. He was so close, the smell of whisky on his breath wafting between you.

“You’re sorry?” Joel huffed, “I don’t think you’re sorry, darlin’. Think ya’ liked it. Think ya’ wanted more, huh?” 

You stared up at Joel. You hesitated but voiclessly shook your head yes. There was no point in trying to hide it, not with your flustered cheeks and glossed-over eyes.

“Think I need to teach a lesson about what happens to little girls like you.” Joel sat next to you, his chest expanding with each breath as he pulled your arms, directing your body until you were all sprawled out, ass in his lap and face in the blankets. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, bunching the material at your waist to finally reveal those tiny red panties, your cunt swollen and outlined under the lace.

“Look at these fucking panties. Got all dressed up for him, huh?” Joel’s fingers travel to the thin material between your legs, hooking at the fabric before letting it go with a loud ‘pop’. He caressed your skin, calloused hands squeezing at the fat of your thighs. 

You flinched, your skin begging for more of him. Goosebumps rose across your body and your breath hitched in your throat, waiting as Joel’s hands lingered on your ass. 

“Joel, What are you-,” A loud slap echoed across the room, Joel’s strong hands striking the curvy fat of your ass cheek hard. Your body rejected the sensation, causing you to stur against him, hips writhing in a stinging pain. 

“Stay still,” Joel demanded, his words rushing through you like lightning strikes a metal pole. He struck you hard again, hand lingering on your skin a moment too long, caressing you before he spanked you again.

“Ow!” You immediately cried out at the unexpected impact. Your skin stung, and a red handprint started to form. 

Joel ignored your plea, slapping you again. This time, harder, enough to almost make you cry.

“Joel, ow!” A tear formed in your eye and your back arched with each impact. “I’m sorry, Joel. Please, I’ll be a good girl”. 

“Don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet, darlin’,” Joel hit you again, fingers traveling down to your panties for the second time.

“Look at how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over my lap, sweetheart.” You moaned at his words, his hands palming at the sensitive skin, panties adding a rough sensation as he rubbed small circles on your clit. “This all for me or did that dumb boy do this?” 

“Fuck, Joel. P-please,” You bucked your hips, ass on fire but begging for more. 

“Answer me,” Joel growled, striking you again. His fingers moved just slow enough to work you up, but leave you whining for more. 

“Ahh! J-just y-you. I don’t e-even like h-him,” you yelped, cold air hitting your body as Joel reached for your top, swiftly pulling it over your arms and past your head. 

“Ya’ don’t even like him? Then why was he in my house? Why were you lettin’ him touch what’s mine?” His fingers returned to your cunt, settling on your soft skin and tugging on the lace. Finally, he was pulling the fabric down your legs, exposing that glistening pussy he had been craving for an eternity. 

“I’m sorry, daddy.” You swallowed hard, mouth going dry as you laid completely naked over him. Your ass stung and your pussy was crying. 

Joel spread your swollen lips, using two fingers to expose the arousal leaking from your tight hole. “Look at that,” Joel whispered, his fingers softly rubbing the outside of your soft lips, gathering your arousal thick on his fingers. He moved slowly, expertly rubbing your clit in a figure eight motion. You shuddered, the feeling just enough to add a sense of pleasure under the pain of your abused skin. You bucked your hips back into his hand, little moans falling out of you. 

His free hand traveled lower, lightly circling the soaking skin of your cunt, tight and swollen as he pressed his finger gently inside. 

“Oh god,” you squealed, Joel’s finger pressing right against that sweet spot. 

“So responsive. This is what ya’ like, huh?” He curled his finger up, his other hand still massaging your clit. “Like makin’ a mess on your stepdaddy's fingers?” He whispered, quickly adding a second finger to pump into you. “I know you do. You’re fuckin’ drippin’, baby girl”. 

Every muscle in Joel’s body was flexing, his toned arms stiff as he hits that sweet spot over and over again. The sensation is almost too much, your stomach tightening as he stretches you out. 

“Fuck, daddy. Please”, you cry, your mouth falling open as Joel ignores all your pleas for mercy. That tight feeling in your stomach grows, and shaky legs cause your hips to falter.  

“I know you're close, baby girl. Cum on your daddy’s fingers. It’s okay.” Joel struggled to keep you from sliding off his fingers, your walls tightening around him as his fingers press into your velvet skin.

“Joel!” You’re practically crying, eyes gripped close as a rush of euphoria flows through you. Everything in you relaxes, that sweet sensation leaving you vibrating with pleasure. 

“Good girl,” Joel mutters, eyes locked on the way your body is sucking his fingers in, your juices running down his hand. Joel hesitates for a moment. He thinks about fucking you with his fingers until you're a burning pile of ash under him. Reluctantly, he decides to show some type mercy, gently helping you lay back on the bed. 

He positions you on your back, your knees bent so your feet lay flat against the blanket. Before he can think, before he can force himself to get up and walk out the door, he is sinking to his knees and wrapping his arms around your thighs. 

“Let me clean you up, darlin’,” Joel mutters, placing gentle kisses down your stomach.

He settles on your thighs, lightly biting at the skin and sucking harsh red marks. He spreads your legs wider, hovering his face above your core. He can guarantee your little boyfriend was not planning on doing this. 

Jole’s breath lands on your pussy, hot and slow as he licks a long stripe through your folds. Fuck, that’s the taste he had been dreaming of, like heaven oozing out of you and onto his tastebuds. He uses the tip of his tongue to tease your clit, flicking it up and down against you. Your hands fall to his thick hair, tugging at the loose strands that fall down his forehead. Joel hums, sending a vibration through you as his spit mixes with your wetness. 

His tongue traces every part of your core, settling back on your clit. This time harsher, like he's on a mission. His teeth graze the gentle skin, fingers digging into your thighs as you fuck his mouth. You're a mess under him, bucking your hips into his mouth as he sucks at the plump skin. 

“That’s it. Just like that. Cum on your daddy’s mouth, little girl”. Joel’s words echo through you, his tongue ripping another orgasm through you like a hot blade cuts through rubber. It's gentler but just powerful, leaving your mind foggy and breathless. 

“Such a good girl,” Joel growls, quickly forcing himself to stand. Finally, he gets a real look at your body. Your hair is already messy, red strands falling down your shoulders. Your nipples are swollen, the dark pink buds standing on edge. Fuck, you were breathtaking. 

Joel knew this was the moment that he truly couldn’t come back from. Maybe there was nothing wrong with just helping his girl get off. It was safer with him, he thought. But actually, fucking you? It would be too much. He should leave. He taught you a lesson. Taught you who you really belong to, right? He thought it would be easier. Thought he could stop whenever he was getting too close to crossing that line of no return, but his feet were planted in the ground and his cock was throbbing against the zipper of his jeans. 

Your eyes pleaded up at him, pupils dilated as you watched in silence. You didn't look scared and he found no hint of regret in your eyes. You looked happy even, a slight smile on your face.

“Think you can take your daddy’s dick?” He stood above you, watching your pussy dripping with his saliva. 

You nodded your head, arms grazing the soft skin of your stomach. He shouldn’t fold this easily. He should’ve made you say it, how much you wanted him. But that little nod was all he needed to kick off his boots and pull the zipper of his blue jeans down. 

“Just, fuck…Your mom can never know”. Joel pulled at his shirt, swiftly throwing it up over his head. His broad shoulders were finally on display, the muscles in his arms all toned. You had never seen him like this, his chest sprinkled with greying hair. He was like a Roman painting, his stomach firm but with a little bit of extra fat to grab onto. A true dad bod, you thought. 

“I know. J-Just want you. All of you,” you muttered, sitting up on your forearms as you watched him pull his jeans down his legs, leaving him in a pair of dark briefs. You could tell from here just how hard his cock was, the fabric strained and tight against him. 

“I know, baby girl. Think I don’t see it? The way you're always watchin’ me? Or the way you grab my arms when ya’ laugh? Fuckin’ drives me crazy, ya know.” Joel stepped closer, his heart pounding in his chest. God, he really was about to fuck the little girl he was supposed to be helping raise. I mean, it’s not like you shared blood or anything. He wasn’t actually your dad. He was just a guy…married to your mom. 

“Just let me know…if gets to be too much,” Joel groaned, closing his eyes as he swallowed. He cursed himself for this, pulling his boxers off his hips. As much as he hated it, his cock sprang free, dripping with precum as he dragged his body to hover over you. It was a sweet relief, the air hitting him as he pumped his hand up and down his dick. 

Joel spread your legs wider, his hips falling over yours as pulled you into a hungry kiss. His lips meet yours with a subtle taste of whiskey and you. His tongue slowly licks at your lips, his hands gripping your hips as he lines himself up to your entrance. You open your mouth a bit, letting him trace his tongue against yours, exploring every crevice of your mouth. The tip of his cock brushes against your clit, his large member teasing you and gathering your wetness. 

“Please,” you whine. Your arms fall down Joel’s shoulders, meeting his eyes as he gently presses his tip past your folds. 

“Fuck, baby. So fuckin’ tight.” Joel growled, pushing himself inside you with a sweet burning stretch. 

“Oh, Joel!” You moan, your throat tightening around your words as he sinks deeper inside you. You're taking half his cock now, so much bigger than the boy you had been seeing. 

“I got you, baby. Doing so good.” Joel’s head fell into the crease of your neck, placing hot kisses as he hit the back of your pussy. He stayed like this for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of him before he pulled back. “That’s a good girl. Takin’ her daddy so well.” Joel dragged himself out, leaving the tip inside before falling completely back into you, brushing against your g-spot like a pro. 

“Feel so good,” you whine, your nails dragging down his back as he picks up speed. 

“God, baby girl. Fuckin’ doing so good.” He tries to hold back, hips growing just slightly rough as he fucks deep into you. 

Your body is trembling again, your heart sinking with every thrust and a single tear runs down your cheek. He was so big, hitting your cervix over and over again. 

That feeling was quick to creep back, your chest tightening as he pounded into you, cock pumping in and out faster and rougher. 

“Daddy, please,” You cried, your body fighting off the euphoria as Joel pressed his weight against you. 

“It’s okay. Cum on Daddy’s big dick,” Joel growled, no longer stopping himself from making a complete mess of you. He watched your eyes flutter close, your back arching off the bed and your hands digging into the blankets. He snapped his hips, a loud echo ringing out across the room and you clenched around him, thick white cream coating the base of his cock. 

Just like that, you were crying out his name and shaking uncontrollably. Your orgasm ripped through you, hard and undeniable. 

“Daddy! Fuck yes!” You screamed, your hips bucking into him as you bit into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” Joel ground against you, hips never faulting as you withered under him. “Like Daddy’s cock, huh?” He growled, his own high building as he watched you shudder at his touch.

“I love it, daddy. Love your dick so much,” You whined, forcing your walls to open up for him. 

“Yeah? Wish I was fucking you a long time ago baby. Wanted to since I met ya’.” Joel’s rhythm grew messy, hips slapping into you at an unprecedented pace. “Gonna let your daddy cum inside your little pussy?”

“Yes, please Daddy. Want your cum,” You stuttered, your voice all raspy and barely audible. 

Fuck. Joel couldn't stop himself and he was thrusting as deep as he could, sinking all the way inside you until his balls landed on your clit. You were so beautiful, so tight around him that his mind was all clouded and drunk. 

“Goddamn. That’s my good girl. Lettin’ her daddy get her pregnant. Want to carry my baby huh? Get all swollen while your mom’s out of town. Bet she wouldn’t even notice.” Before he could stop himself, he was painting your walls white, fucking every drop of his cum deep inside you with a painful need. 

“Yes, Daddy!” You whined, watching as Joel slowly pulled out, his cum dripping down your leg. He dragged himself off of you, hitting the mattress with deep panting breaths. 

“Love ya’, sweetheart. Always have.” Joel muttered, his words spread out and uneven as he pulled your back against his chest. His mind was racing, the reality of what he had just done weighing on him like a ton of bricks.

He should have knocked.

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

------

See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

[endlessdreamworld]

God, I finally caught up on the HSR story and I'm so down bad for this man, this traumatized guy, my poor little meow meow.

So here's some yan! Aventurine X gn! reader headcanons that have been rotting inside my brain for the past few days. Bark bark bark rate up soon please haha!!

In the early stages of your relationship, his behavior matches his superficial self, the shell he shows everyone. One of his first gifts to you would be a credit card attached to his personal bank account. 'Don't ask! Just spend.' He'd get a hit of endorphins every single time he sees a charge coming through from you. He knows it's you because he named the profile attached to that card with some corny pet name with a slew of emojis beside it, taking up an obnoxious amount of space on the screen of his phone.

It doesn't take long for him to be utterly obsessed with you. How could he not? You're just so... everything! His everything. It's at this stage, the mask slips off. Material gifts are no longer enough, and the gifts he gives you are pieces of himself. He'll overrule whatever pet name you gave him in favor of honey -- a reference to his heritage.

And speaking of heritage, he's prepared quite the gift for your one year anniversary. Once the sun had long set on a sinfully indulgent all-day date, and after some desperate and incredibly needy sex when the two of you are tangled up in a knot of your sweat and burning feelings, he'll give you his present. Kakavasha, he'd mutter into the sensitive skin on the side of your neck mirroring his commodity code. It's one of the few things he owns that truly matter to him, and he can only hope you'll accept his humble gift.

He's needy, so very very needy in general, about everything, always, in every single way. Pathetically so. He can't hold your hand like a normal person, your fingers must be laced. Kissing? There's rarely a moment when you're not being kissed, and he's generous with the sheer variety he provides you with. Sometimes it's little soft sweet kisses that are more like whispers against your flesh. Other times, he'll kiss you on the hand or face only to never pull away as if he's moving into the real estate on your bare skin wherever he can find it.

And after a particularly horrible day, he'll return home without greeting you in his usual cheerful way. You'll immediately know something is up, even more so when he puts you into a vice grip, kissing you in such a way where it's like he's trying to suck the air out of your lungs. It's as if he believes you can baptize him with your spit and turn him into something worthy of walking around other human beings, a luxury he can never afford himself. On days like this, he feels so utterly unworthy of the life he's taken from the people who have been unfortunate enough to cross paths with him, one stolen day at a time. Of course, he's shameless enough to steal from you of all people -- the sweet little giving thing that you are.

He dreams about working up the nerve, or maybe stooping so low as to ask for your hand in marriage. Whichever comes first. It's something he would have thought a lot about up until that point. He's got more money than he could ever spend in his lifetime, even if one of his hobbies was lighting huge stacks of credits on fire just for fun. With that in mind, any gem no matter how priceless would be a bauble in comparison to what you deserve for putting up with him. Of course he could carve off a piece of his cornerstone, a piece of him, and give you a fragment of God to decorate your finger. But if life on Sigonia IV taught him anything, it's how quickly your most precious belongings can be taken.

So naturally, there's only one thing he could think of that would be more valuable than that, only one thing comes to mind that can't be taken. The idea came to him in passing, an idea that's quite literally staring him in the face.

He's tried getting rid of his commodity code in the past, but even with all of his money, there's nothing that can make it go away without leaving some sort of mark. It was just easier to accept it and it slowly faded into the background over time.

So what would be more valuable than a piece of him, a piece of God? Why, eternity of course, something truly priceless. It would only be proper to get your wedding band's tattooed. You'd even be considerate enough to encourage him to pick an Avgin pattern.

While the idea of a ring as a symbol of your bond is nice, a ring is an object. Objects can be stolen -- or worse, taken off. Countless times were the things he held dearest taken from him. Although those days are long gone, and even though he's a gambling man, he wasn't about to take any chances. Not now. Not with this.

Having your promise to love one another until death do you part sealed onto your skin would give him tremendous comfort. If anyone wanted to take this away from him, the symbol of his vow to you, they'd have to peel it off of his cold, dead body. But first, they'd have to manage to kill him, of course.

Aventurine is hard to get a read on, which is just how he likes it. He's been many thing: a scoundrel, a villain, a confidante, a friend, a rival, a whipping post, a beggar, a tool, a whore, a hound, a pawn, a con artist, and a killer; all things he wouldn't hesitate to become again if the situation demands it. It's in his nature to adapt to what he needs to do, and who he needs to become. But no matter how much of a shapeshifter he pretends to be, the core of his being is unchanging and inviolable, for better or worse.

He's still that scared, lucky, little shivering Avgin boy no matter how hard he tries to play dress up. He needs you to find Kakavasha underneath all of the masks and bullshit he hides behind.

Every day he bets on you to find him, the real him, and love him. The wager? Just the usual -- his life.

[mangoku]

Oh I did that once with spider verse I believe. Except I was also on the floor while my dad sat normally at the dinner table enjoying the movie. I’m not 100% sure which movie it was (I was on the floor eyes closed and couldn’t see) but I do know that I was reciting that bad boy. Knew it off by heart. Picturing it vividly in my minds eye. Also it might be helpful to know me and my dad both had some edibles prior to this, he had a reasonable amount and I… did not. Hence why I was on the floor. Also my dad has an unfortunate habit of brushing off vomit warnings from his kids. I don’t think he’ll be making that mistake again

i had a dream that kurtis conner made a video where he was watching sharkboy and lavagirl but with his eyes closed the entire time for some reason. only when the movie was playing. he would react like "haha, i know what happens in this part!" with his eyes closed while the scene is playing

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. �� Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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@wandalfnation

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

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[rin-may-1103]

Biggest Regret. (Part Two)

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Bruce had finally found a peaceful moment to sit down and go through his work emails; there were no sibling homicide fights, prank wars, and thankfully no vigilante-related headaches.

Just a peaceful afternoon; normal polluted Gotham skies, the usual city ruckus of honking horns and shouting, and the constant footsteps back and forth past his closed office door.

taking a sip from his old mug, Bruce opened his laptop. Quickly typing in his password for the hour, he made his way to his email. surprisingly, less than 90 emails were waiting for him. Usually, he had hundreds to go through.

hmmm. Another check for this being a suspiciously good day then, it just made him more anxious for when the other shoe would fall.

peaceful for Gotham, for him, never meant anything good. It always happened right before a tragic event or large-scale Arkham breakout. he could hope for it to just be a peaceful day, but he knew wishful thinking was useless.

taking another sip, Bruce started scrolling through his emails, reading the subject lines to sort through which ones were more important. After a few minutes of reading, Bruce stopped and reread the second to last email's title, his eyebrows furrowing:

A Video From Your Son.

Now, Bruce was truly confused; Why would one of his kids email him? let alone through his public work email? They've been told multiple times to email him through the bat-email if it contains anything important or time-sensitive. Heck, they've been told to just text him it if it was important, he always answers a text faster than an email.

His Bruce Wayne email was notoriously ignored for multiple days; mostly for his cover story, but also because he spends most of his time doing Batman stuff. (Reading Wayne Enterprises emails usually wasn't something at the top of his list, the kids know this.)

so, then why would one of them email him?

hmm. maybe? maybe one of the boys set up a long-term prank or something. They know how long it takes for him to read his emails, so maybe they sent it knowing it would take a while, which means they had plenty of time to set something up.

yes, that's it. it makes total sense.

Clicking on the email, he was greeted with a boy (who looked a lot like Damian, but who most certainly wasn't) sitting gravely on a wooden box in some dark warehouse.

sitting up straight, Bruce set his mug down and studied the paused video. the boy looked so much like Damian that Bruce almost wanted to believe he was a clone. but his bright stern blue eyes and and apparent freckles pushed the idea away.

Yes, clones can have imperfections, especially when made in a rush, but never something as drastic as the wrong eye color or a genetic quality the one being cloned didn't have. Unless, the one making the clone had no idea what they were doing, but Bruce doubted Talia would have allowed someone to take Damian's DNA before he was given to Bruce.

and the boy on screen had scars, lots of scars, meaning if he was a clone then he was made before Bruce even knew of Damian.

hmm.

there were no clues provided in the kid's surroundings; the warehouse was surprisingly empty of anything important or telling. the kid had even chosen a spot where Bruce couldn't tell if it was day or night, or if the lights were on. which took away the usual ways of figuring out where the boy was.

No sky meant he couldn't calculate the general area based on season and celestial bodies. And because he couldn't tell if the light was from industrial lighting or daylight, he couldn't cross out warehouses with electricity. The kid was smart. smarter than the average citizen at least.

he was also wearing discreet clothing; which meant Bruce couldn't trace him through that either.

leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees, Bruce pressed play and gave the video his full attention.

The boy on screen sat in silence for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. his hands rested in his lap, his poster rather relaxed as he sat on his wooden crate.

"This is video eight." the boy spoke, his voice rough with sleepless nights and yelling. Did he yell at people often? or had he gotten into a fight previously? there were seven other videos, but this was the first one Bruce saw. he'd have to go back and see if he had somehow missed them.

"don't worry, you didn't miss anything." the boy chuckled humorously, running one of his hands through his hair. Bruce noted that it shook, the kid was probably nervous, or hungry. the kid looked too skinny to be healthy...

"no, this is just the eighth time I've had to record this." the boy continued, dropping his hand back into his lap as he slumped forward, his black hair falling into his face.

"this video," he continued, not glancing up, "is for Bruce Wayne's eyes only."

there were still no visual tells on where the boy was, not even audio cues for Bruce to study. frowning, Bruce rested his head on his hands, taking in everything the boy said.

"Hi Dad," Bruce sucked in a breath, tensing up as the kid finally glanced back at the camera.

"I'm Danny. you likely don't know I exist, and if you're receiving this; I'm already dead." he chuckled like the thought of his death was laughable. "well, more dead than I already was." he snorted, shaking his head in a way that reminded Bruce of Damian when he was exasperated or disappointed.

"Maybe it's cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem," Danny, the kid's name is Danny, looked away. He rubbed his neck awkwardly as he continued, "But you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would've put you in danger."

Danny let out a breath as he pulled his legs up onto the crate, "this email is set to automatically send if I haven't opened my laptop for three days. I sometimes set it longer if I'm expecting trouble or going to be away for a while, but I've most likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you're receiving this."

Danny looked so tired as he looked back at the camera, the dark bags under his eyes worse than even Tim's after a week-long investigation.

"I don't know who killed me. Obviously, I'm recording this in advance... I have my suspicions though. it was most likely either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons." Danny reached beside him and held up a two pictures, "This is Maddie and Jack Fenton, and this," another picture, "is some GIW agents."

Danny snorted as he glanced at the GIW agents, their startled faces slightly blurry as Danny stood in front of them and took a selfie. bruce wasn't sure if he was amused or not that the kid took a selfie with his potential murderers but then again, Bruce could see all of his children doing it too. (Bruce could also see himself doing it.)

"i half-died at 14," Danny suddenly added, tossing the pictures to the side. "became the local ghost superhero..."

he stared off to the side for a moment, "but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost me apart molecule by molecule." Danny glanced back at the camera before his eyes widened, "my parents! I mean, my parents and the GIW wanted to tear me apart, not the town! though they probably wouldn't have disagreed with it if asked..."

"anyway," Danny shook his head, "my money's on that being what happened..." Danny looked down at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, "there will be nothing left of me to bury..."

"Sorry about that!" he suddenly added, a bright smile on his face. Bruce could tell it was strained, forced in hopes of not upsetting him.

"you'd probably have to cremate me if there was, it'd be a waste of wood to get me a coffin... though I'd really prefer if I wasn't set on fire," Danny chuckled, trying to hide a full-body shiver.

He sat in silence for a moment before Danny continued, "The rest of the story is this: I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of nine. they sent me on a mission and I just had to take the opportunity. I successfully faked my death."

Danny sat up now, fully focusing on the camera, "My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that's the reason I'm reaching out to you."

Danny let his feet fall off the edge as he grabbed something from next to him, keeping it out of view for now. "you're a civilian," Danny stated like it was a fact he knew to be true.

Bruce clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself still so he could focus on what Danny was telling him. he wished he could reach through the screen and hold the boy, whether he was his son or not, he obviously was talking about the league which meant Talia hadn't told him.

Talia hadn't told him, and if he was anything like Damian, then he would have no reason to believe otherwise.

"If you know too much about the League of Assassins you'll be in danger, but I need you to save my twin Damian." Danny's words were like a final nail in the coffin, the final straw to keeping his heart from breaking again.

it was true, it had to be. How would Danny have this information otherwise?

"he's likely still there after all these years. he never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. he's probably going to be stabby: he's an assassin after all, but it's not his fault. Ra's, our grandfather, indoctrinated him a lot more successfully than he did me. Damian was more susceptible to it... it's not his fault." Danny repeated, clenching the object he had grabbed.

"Please," Danny pleaded, "save him. I'm begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please take it."

Danny bit his lip and glanced down at his lap, "I w-," he quickly glanced around before shaking his head, "I long for a time when it would have been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I've seen of you on the news with your oldest kids."

he looked up with a water smile, "I bet you're like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I still don't know how you managed that, it's been six years." Danny chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"This is my, um, my old league sigil." Danny held up the object he had been holding, revealing a golden disk with thick rope connected to it. it had the demon head's symbol on it.

"A coat of arms. I'll leave it somewhere for you. hopefully, you can use it to get to Damian." Danny gently placed it back on the box. "I'm keeping it in a box in the walls of my room. You should be able to find it."

"I wish you and your family the best," Danny sniffed, looking back at the camera. "thank you for listening. From your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton."

Bruce stared at the paused video for a minute, just trying to process everything he just saw. he needed confirmation, he knew it was true, it had to be, there's no way Danny could fake this. but Bruce needed to confirm. make sure he isn't seeing things.

absently, Bruce pulled out his phone and dialed his youngest's, was he still the youngest? or was Danny? number.

the tone didn't even ring longer than five seconds before his son's voice echoed into the silent office, "Father."

"Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?" Bruce asked, not cutting around the bush.

dead silence, he couldn't even hear Damian's breath.

then, "...Who told you?"

Damian's voice wasn't angry or fearful, it was sad and confused and wavered like the last leaf on a tree clinking on for dear life in a blizzard. it cemented the break in Bruce's heart as he stared at the tearful face of his son, his son who claimed to be dead already.

hanging up, Bruce quickly sent the video to Damian and waited. he needed a minute to process what just happened. Clicking play, Bruce rewatched the video, hoping to find another clue.

Damian called back a few minutes later, the sound of Danny's voice echoing in the background telling Bruce his son had watched and rewatched the video just like he had.

"Father. I do not care what state he is in, even if there is only a single molecule left. I'm going to bring him home. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny, the truth."

"I couldn't agree more, Damian," Bruce grunted, standing up. Pushing his chair in, he turned his laptop off and made his way to his office door. "I'll be home soon, gather the others. tell them all hands on deck."

"yes, Father," Robin replied, hanging up not even a second later.

Shoving his phone in his pocket and opening his office door, Batman started making his way home.

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