#meaning he was THAT type of head manager that just tries to be everyones awkward friend🤣🤣🤣

[justacynicalromantic]

All of this.

Also, people forget that, as an angel, Aziraphale can do actually good deeds, help people. The cases like with Job - where he must lie to Heaven to not do something monstrous - are actually few and far between.

Most of his time, as an agent of Heaven, he spends doing goods things and reports on them.

And he likes that job.

If only the "bad angel" Gabriel and his underlings didn't force him to do all those awful deeds from time to time, right?

While Crowley, as a demon, is physically unable to do good - he would be punished by Hell for doing a good deed. Plus he must actually do bad deeds all the time and report on them.

Aziraphale can't understand why Crowley would not want to change that.

Remember the "I can't return this book to that woman. That would be a good deed and I am in trouble with Hell enough as it is".

So, for Aziraphale, it's a no-brainer. He can't understand why Crowley - who actually would love to help people but, as a demon is unable to - would not choose to become an angel again.

At worst, he'd have had to lie and manipulate facts in those rare times when Heaven would want him to do something bad - like Aziraphale has been doing all his life - and be a good-doer in all other times.

BUT! Now that Aziraphale holds Gabriel's former position? They wouldn't have to!

At least, that's what Aziraphale believes.

No more lying and hiding, when trying to genuinely help humans. No more fearing repercussions for being a genuinely good person. This is Aziraphale's dream come true. This is freedom.

Remember?

"I am just a demon that goes along with Hell as far as he can, you are just an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can"

"Isn't it... lonely?"

"Yeah"

Well, no more of that!

Metatron dangles in front of Aziraphale the biggest dream Aziraphale has had for millennia.

Like many others, I have a lot of thoughts about different things in Season 2. So many things that I want to write about that I end up not writing anything at all. So if I am ever going to get things out I should start now. Maybe I am crazy, maybe I am not, but I read the conversation between Aziraphale and the Metatron a little differently.

The first thing we see is the end of that conversation: M: You don't have to answer immediately. Take all the time you need A: I- I don't know what to say M: Well then, go and tell your friend the good news I don’t think this is about taking his time to decide whether he is taking the job or not, Aziraphale already said yes.

That is why the Metatron ends with a confident “Well, then go and tell your friend the good news”. When Aziraphale turns around and walks towards the bookshop, his face is like that of a student going to defend their thesis in front of their committee or an accused going to their trial. It is scary but you can’t turn back.

The “Take all the time you need” is about breaking it to Crowley that Aziraphale is going to Heaven and that “Crowley can become an angel again.” Take your time to have this conversation. Aziraphale doesn’t know it is a goodbye yet; Metatron does. That’s why he comes in immediately after Crowley leaves and innocently asks “How did he take it?” meaning “how did he take the news that you are leaving?” He didn’t ask “Is he coming?” or “did he accept?” or anything of the sort. He knew Crowley wouldn’t come from the very start.

“I don't know what to say” may then be a “thank you, I am so very grateful for your generosity.”

Aziraphale said yes without discussing it with Crowley first, which is a very Aziraphalean thing to do. Remember how he lied to Crowley about Adam’s whereabouts? Crowley and him were not having an argument about it then, they weren’t fighting, in fact Crowley was sure they were on the same page, in the same team. Aziraphale unilaterally decided he was going to tell Heaven because Heaven were the good guys and they would stop the apocalypse if only they knew where Adam was.

At the bench Crowley offers his place and Aziraphale responds “I don’t think my side would like that" He hasn’t forsaken Heaven yet, he still has hope, he still believes Heaven can correct course and become what Heaven is supposed to be because underneath, the core of Heaven is inherently good. He went rogue because he didn’t trust Heaven’s current management, but he didn’t lose faith in the Heaven-that-should-be.

In the first episode of Season 2, at the coffee shop, he sheepishly says "It’s nice to tell someone about the good things you’ve done now that I’m not reporting to Heaven". He misses Heaven, he misses his job, his purpose. He is unmoored and Crowley is not being the supportive friend Aziraphale needs right now. Aziraphale is going through a crisis that Crowley went through and moved on from a long long time ago. Crowley forsook Heaven after they kicked him out and metaphorically forsook Hell very early on ("I'm on my side" in Job’s times already). He's peachy! And he can't understand that Aziraphale cannot just walk away.

Metatron exploited Aziraphale’s doubts, validated and encouraged them. "But Heaven. Well, it’s the side of truth, of light, of good" is a line that Aziraphale would never have uttered if not for the encouragement that the Metatron gave him. “Like the old times. Only even nicer” is Aziraphale’s imagination running wild, after the beautiful picture Metatron painted. The Heaven-that-should-be is the Heaven-that-was before the rebellion, the Heaven that Aziraphale can make happen again. How can Crowley not see that?!

“But… obviously you said “No” to Hell, you’re the bad guys” is also Metatron’s fueling Aziraphale’s doubts. “you’re” instead of “they are”. If Heaven is inherently the side of good, then Hell is inherently the side of evil. Angels are inherently good and demons are inherently bad. Crowley is at heart a little bit of a good person, Aziraphale has 6000 years of proof. His Fall must have been a mistake or something. How can Crowley not jump at the opportunity to go back? To right that wrong!?

Metatron is not stupid, “The name of your establishment Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death. I assume they always ask for coffee [...] so predictable”. He doesn’t say it outright, but in urging Aziraphale to take the post, he is also implying that the alternative is “death”, it’s a threat, bad things would happen to Earth, to humans, to Crowley. See how Gabriel messed up, he was a bad Supreme Archangel, he led Heaven astray, he didn't work out. if you don’t step in, everybody will suffer, you are the angel for the job, only you can bring Heaven back to the light, to what it should be. For Aziraphale it is a bit of a no-brainer. Now he only needs to convince Crowley.

[luvrbug]

When they have a crush on you

«─────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───────────»

▸ Characters; Law, Kidd, Luffy

▸ Warnings; GN reader

▸ a/n; my first OP work !!!! im still trying to grasp how to write for them but !!! i hope you all enjoy :] (psst- requests are open!)

«─────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───────────»

-> LAW

▸ Law refuses to show any emotional vulnerability. So when he realizes that YOU are the one making his emotions go absolutely haywire- its not a good scene.

▸ He cares about you so much. He doesnt form attachments easily, so when he does prepare for him to never let go.

▸ He starts to avoid you. Like, you cannot find him on the polar tang type of avoiding. He's afraid to put you in serious danger, he's wanted by the world covernment, has billions of beri on his head- he couldn't stand to put you in more danger.

▸ Law SAYS he is perfectly content with holding these feelings in until he dies. He is lying. At some point his frustration comes to a head and he just , corners you in the sub after not speaking to you for THREE WEEKS and word vomits all his emotions out while looking like a tomato.

▸ If you accept law is . surprisingly elated. This commitment doesn't feel heavy or scary like he imagined. He's not the biggest fan of PDA but he ABSOLUTELY links pinkies with you when walking around. (bepo, shaichi, and penguin are yall's biggest fans ever. they SO hide in the bushes during the first date and get discovered 😭)

▸ If you reject law .. he'll retreat back into his shell. He was open with you, and now he probably wont be. ever again. Really awkward interactions ensue.

-> KIDD

▸ He's so oblivious to his own emotions !!!!!! He's so mean to you all the time but he's killing anyone who lays a hand on you. He feels nauseous and feverish and embarrassed whenever he's around you but he's anxious and jittery when you're NOT around!

▸ He gets sooo jealous too. you could be like, sitting next to someone and he'll be breaking a tankard in his fist 😭.

▸ HE TRIES SO HARD TO IMPRESS YOU!!! He's smashing someone's face in extra flashily when you look his way. Carrying super heavy objects when youre in his vicinity. showing you all his latest inventions. He's almost like a really aggressive, abrasive puppy waiting on you to praise him.

▸ He probably blurts out all of his feelings when you sit just a little too close after one too many beers. He's raging at you for "making my head all spinny" and "making me feel like im gonna vomit glitter" while Heat and Wire are cackling in the background. Killer has his head in his hands while Kidd continues his drunken rant.

▸ If you somehow manage to wrangle him back to the ship and accept his confession, you will have a clingy, kissy kidd to deal with. He will not let you go. Your post-confession gift is a cranky, hungover kidd.

▸ If you reject him ... Kidd practically explodes. Not at you, but everyone who pisses him off is getting chewed out 10x as bad. He's hurt, and he needs time to tend his wounds. Your friendship will never be the same, but he won't make your life a living hell.

-> LUFFY

▸ Luffy is straightforward, honest, and determined. If he likes you, he'll say it loud and clear. He doesn't exactly know the line between romantic and platonic feelings, so it'll take someone like robin or sanji to clear that up for him.

▸ He is also very physically affectionate. Where you go, luffy goes. You have to practically beg to go to the bathroom alone. Skinny, Tall, Short, Chubby; luffy loves it all! He gomu-gomu no cuddles you constantly.

▸ He doesn't really get jealous. He trusts you! And he knows youre great, so obviously everyone would want to spend time with you! Just make sure he's in your top priorities.

▸ Luffy's confession is in everything he does. He never steals from your plate unless he's given permission, always makes sure you get the best cuts of meat / best quality veggies. He may just suddenly hold you and kiss you if hes in the mood. Luffy is probably on the aro/ace spectrum, so your relationship may be on the platonic spectrum some days + the romantic spectrum some days.

▸ If you turn down all of Luffy's advances, hes naturally a little let down. He won't stop caring about you, but he'll attempt (key word; attempt) to give you space and not be so affectionate. (how could you possibly turn this boy down >:[)

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Cancer and mentions of previous child death

It’s been a week and Jay still hasn’t told Bruce or Alfred.  Jason spent the first couple days walking around Gotham trying to stop his heart from exploding out of his chest. Then he beat the shit out of the training simulations– which he failed multiple times because he hit the fake version of the Joker with multiple lethal shots. 

Obviously, he has checked on Jay, and apologized for freaking out, and tried to convince him to tell Bruce, but the kid always managed to evade doing just that.

Hence why he was currently stress cooking.

Maybe four dozen chocolate chip cookies, 3 batches of blueberry muffins, and an ungodly amount of chili dogs were excessive, but he needed to otherwise he would find himself storming up to younger Bruce and just telling him. Which wouldn’t be the worst thing, but it might make things difficult.

It would be so much easier if the kid just spilled the beans himself. But Jay was holding onto that god damned can so tight. Now if Jason could just… loosen the grip…

They were all currently eating dinner on the patio, because the early April weather was nice for once. Tim was also there, because Jason had made too much food, and Alfred encouraged Jay to invite the kid. Jay had also apparently wanted to invite Babs, but obviously since Kori and Dick were engaged it would be awkward considering a version of Dick was at the manor.

Jason hummed, “I feel like we’re missing someone.”

Tim looked around at everyone, “Our Dick?” His face turned red, “That came out wrong.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s not it.” Jason knew exactly where he was going with this, but he had to play it right.

Dick grabbed another cookie, “Damian, Stephanie, Duke and Cass.”

“I’m not as close with them as you are, dude.” Jason took a bite out of his chili dog, and chewed as he pretended to think about it, “Oh! I know! Uncle Clark.”

Jay immediately sat ramrod straight. If Uncle Clark was here, he’d immediately see the giant brace on Jay’s knee. Then he’d use his x-ray vision, and he’d immediately make that face like someone kicked his puppy and tell Bruce. 

Then the anxiety washed off Jay’s face, and was replaced with a glare, “Seriously, Jason?”

Younger Bruce’s face went blank, “Clark… is dead.”

“You mean he hasn’t come back to life in this universe?” Jason… totally forgot about that. To his credit, he was in a coma at the time– or catatonic.

Younger Bruce frowned and then glanced at older Bruce, “Not that I’m aware of…”

Older Bruce grunted, “He didn’t come back until early May. At least for us. It could be different in this universe.”

“Oh.”

God damn it.

Jay wanted to bang his head on the table hard enough to knock himself out. He couldn’t sleep a wink last night because of the incessant throb in his knee.

He gritted his teeth, “Jason Peter Todd, I swear if you play ‘Drops of Jupiter’ one more time, I’m going to–” cry. He was going to cry. That’s what he would do. He was going to cry. Who plays songs about their mother who died of cancer at 7:30 in the morning? “I’m going to kill myself and blame you.”

Dick immediately whipped his head to Jay, so he added, “Hyperbole. But I will smack my head on this granite and blame it on you.”

Jason frowned, and then wordlessly switched the song to ‘Ronan’, by Taylor Swift.

And it’s not like Jay didn’t know exactly what Jason was doing. He knew what he was doing as soon as he came down and the song started playing. God he was an asshole. 

Though… it was probably an asshole move for Jay to ask him to keep it a secret. He just needs time to…gather his thoughts and figure out the right way to tell Bruce. 

Dick patted Jay’s shoulder, “Want me to drop you off at school?”

“Please.”

Dick handed him his crutches and grabbed his backpack for him as he hobbled to the garage, “April’s not the best month for him. He died on the 27th, so… that’s probably what’s with the mood and the sad songs, and all the cooking.”

He felt something twist and knot in his gut. He was making Jason’s already traumatic month so much worse, and even more traumatic because he’s reminding him of Mami and–

“Jay? Are you ok?”

He nodded, “I was just thinkin’ about how Jason really is Jesus. Did he die on Good Friday?”

Dick chuckled and ruffled his hair, “I dunno.”

It took him an unnecessary amount of time to get to lunch. Not only was he slower because of his broken tibia, but crutching around had him winded. It forced him to sit with Tim and his friends, because the table he usually sits at fills up before he can get to the cafeteria.

Now he didn’t mind sitting with Tim and his friends, it just felt odd as a Junior sitting with a bunch of Underclassmen. But, they also didn’t pay much attention to him. Usually he just napped the entirety of lunch. 

Well, he didn’t nap, because he could not sleep around people he didn’t trust, but he rested his eyes, and to everyone else it probably looked like he was asleep. 

Most of the table got up to get cookies, but Tim stayed behind with Jay. Then he felt the table shift on the opposite side. Except the weight shift wasn’t as drastic as it usually is with the guy who usually sits there, so it was probably someone new. 

Jay didn’t have the energy to check who it was.

“How asleep is he?” Oh! It was Stephanie. Wow, this feels like a crossover episode.

He felt a gust of air blow on his face, and jokes on Tim, Jay’s known how to fully fake sleep since he was ten. Meaning no flinching during sleep tests, “He’s out. I guess.” To Tim’s credit he probably knew he wasn’t fully asleep.

“Ok, you’re like a Batman and Robin superfan, aren't ya?”

He heard Tim pause, “How did you know that?”

“Your screensaver is subtly Robin themed, your backpack is subtle Batman, whenever they’re mentioned you pretend to not pay attention to the conversation, even though you are, and,” She let out a snicker, “I saw the stack of photos you have of them when you let me take gum from your backpack. They’re really good by the way.”

Jay knew that Tim was beet red, “Oh. Thanks.”

“Anywho, do you know the last time Robin was seen out? Cus people have been saying the last time he’s been seen was the warehouse explosion by the docks.”

Why was she worrying? He told her he was going to retire.

He could feel Tim trying not to glance at Jay, “Yeah, That was the last time he’s been spotted. Though, I’m sure he’s just recovering or something.”

“Ok. ok.” She drummed the table with her fingers, “Fuck, can you keep a secret?” There was a pause where he assumed Tim nodded, “Alright.” She leaned closely across the table, and he felt Tim move in closer as well, “I’m Spoiler, and I kinda know Robin. I don’t know who he really is or anything, but I’d consider us to be close. He told me he was planning on retiring.”

“What?” wait, he hasn’t told Tim about that yet, “Did he tell you what he���s planning on doing? Is he gonna stay in Gotham, or move to New York like Nightwing?”

“No. He said he was retiring retiring. Like no more fighting.”

“He’s giving up being a hero?” Tim’s voice was blank, “Good for him, I guess.”

“That’s not–” She sighed, “The last couple times I’ve seen him, he’s been…tired. Not as quippy or flippy. I think… I think something’s wrong.”

There was a pause, “Now that you mention it–”

Jay picked up his head, “Ya know Barney, if you were really this worried, you coulda called.” 

Stephanie’s eyes blew wide in realization– Bruce is going to go berserk– Then she glanced over at Tim, who rolled his eyes, “Ok, I know too.” Then he turned to Jay, “Jason, why the fuck didn’t you tell me you were retiring, but you told her?”

He shrugged, “Professional courtesy. And it never really came up between us. I only told B after I got half my hair singed off. I still haven’t told N.”

“So you’re officially retired?” Stephanie raised an eyebrow, “I would’ve thought you’d make your last appearance as Robin special.”

“Technically, I have two and a half more weeks, but, uh, seeing as…” He looked at the crutches, “Can’t exactly do much.”

Tim nodded, “And as far as Gotham knows, you went out with a bang.” 

Stephanie hummed, “My mom works at Gotham General and has been talking about this kid who’s apparently obsessed with Robin. Apparently she tells the other kids stories about him. Maybe you can make that your last appearance. I can come too if ya want.”

Jay smiled, “That sounds like a good idea. Is the kid gonna be there this weekend?”

“I’ll ask my mom and get back ta ya on that.”

Jay looked at Tim, “Wanna meet your mini you?”

Tim shook his head, “I would love to, but it’d be odd for a random civilian to be hanging out with two vigilanties.”

Jason was currently in the middle of whipping up his second batch of raspberry meringue cookies– by hand– when both Bruces decided to corner him.

Honestly he wishes it was Dick. At least he could get him to eat half of the cookies to then justify Jason making more. 

“Jay, lad, your baking is really good, and we all enjoy it, but…” Older Bruce looked at the multiple tupperware and gallon sized ziplock bags filled with assorted cookies and cakes, “I think it’s beginning to teeter on the excessive side.”

He looked up from examining his peaks and determined they weren’t stiff enough, “This isn’t nearly enough. I was planning on bringing these to the homeless shelter for easter.” He continued whisking the meringue.

Younger Bruce picked up a Robin themed Peep he made and squished it, “Easter’s not for a week, Jason. You’ve also been stress cooking for a while. What’s got you all strung up?”

“Strung up? I’m not strung up. In fact, I’m Pinocchio after he got turned into a real boy. I got no strings on me.” He started whisking the meringue faster. That was probably the worst lie he’s ever lied.

There was a sharp inhale from the doorway as Jay crutched in, “If you’re Pinnochio, your nose is gonna poke a hole straight through the wall.”

Jason inspected the meringue peaks again, and was unsatisfied. “And yours could touch the moon.”

Jay froze as both Bruces immediately frowned at Jay, but Jason only needed younger Bruce to scrutinize Jay, so he gave him the boxes of raspberries, and pointed to the sink.

Younger Bruce held up the Peep, “Peep, for a peep?”

Jay groaned, “I don’t wanna Peep.” He sat down on the kitchen stool and leaned his crutches against the countertop.

“But he does have something to Peep.” Jason added. 

Older Bruce set the raspberries down next to Jason, “Can we stop saying Peep?”

Jay’s eye twitched as he glared at Jason, so Jason just grinned back. 

Younger Bruce was looking at Jay patiently as the kid played with a part of his knee brace, “I’m pretty sure I have…” He clamped his jaw, and then took a deep breath, pressed his lips together, “...no interest in finding a partner of any sorts.” He held up little jazz hands, “I’m Aro/Ace.”

Jason set his forehead down on the countertop, and banged it once, “That’s… not what I wanted him to tell you. I did not mean to out him.”

Younger Bruce ruffled Jay’s hair, “Either way I’m proud of you, Jason.” Bruce gave him a small smile, and Jay leaned in closer. “Ok, so you’re pretty sure you have what?”

Jay looked up at Bruce, “A new Robin I would like to pass the mantle to. I’m also planning on telling Dick when I visit him next week.”

Jason made a buzzer noise, “Nope, Try again.”

Jay scowled, cracking his fingers,“I also might’ve told Stephanie Brown that I was Robin.”

Younger Bruce frowned, “You what?”

“Bruce, I think she’s a really good person, and I trust her.”

Older Bruce cleared his throat, “It takes us some time, but we trust her too. In our timeline, she becomes Robin for a brief period of time, and she’s currently Batgirl.”

“I was actually debating on making her Robin. I guess she’ll be the backup if Tim says no.” He turned back to younger Bruce,“She’s a good person. We’re also planning on visiting the kids in Gotham General as Robin and Spoiler this weekend.”

Jason paused, “The kids who… have been affected by rogue attacks, or who are… sick?” Because, yeah, Jason tries to make it a point to help out in Leslies clinic, but seeing the patients who have been diagnosed with cancer is always hard. Mainly because Leslie’s clinic doesn’t have the resources to give those patients proper care.

Jay's face contorted like he ate something sour, “Fuck you.” He spat out, standing up and grabbing his crutches, “You’re not Jason Todd, you’re a shitstain of an excuse that crawled out of his grave.”

And suddenly he was 19 again. Coming home soaked in blood wondering if he was tainting his own memory. He was 18 staring at an empty grave knowing the kid who died would’ve hated the person he became. He was 17 holding a detonator in his hand; not recognizing the person he saw in the mirror.

But this wasn’t about him. This was about a 16 year old kid with cancer, who was too afraid to tell his dad about it for God knows what reason. And Jason has just been prodding and prodding, and– “Jason–”

“I don’t need a dead man’s opinion on how to live.” He crutched out of the kitchen and Jason started to follow him when younger Bruce grabbed his wrist.

Jason twisted his wrist out of the hold and pointed in Bruce’s face, “Watch the damn cookies. And don’t you dare eavesdrop.” 

He continued after Jay, “Wait, Jason, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Jay started hopping up the stairs, “I– Don’t– want– to–” He almost missed the step, but he landed on his bad leg to regain his balance. Jason supported him by the armpits and slowly lowered him to the ground before he could go crashing down.

Jay’s eyes began to water and face screwed up. He punched Jason in the chest, which hurt, but he stayed still as Jay attempted to get back up, but failed. He punched him again, “I hate you!” It could probably be heard from every point in the manor, “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” 

Each hate was reinforced with a punch, each one with less power behind it, until Jay was sobbing into his chest, “I want them here. Why aren’t they here? I just want Mami and Papi.” 

Jason felt his eyes start to burn as he wrapped his arms around the kid.

“And I-I love Bruce and Alfred, but I want them. I miss them. I-I need– I needed them.”

Jason nodded, trying to figure out something to say, but he couldn’t. His heart had crept into his throat and was squeezing his vocal chords.

He… He needs to be a real adult and tell Bruce. None of the sideways routes to get Jay to spill. He has to be direct. 

After Jay stopped crying, Jason made sure he got up the stairs safely and went back down to the kitchen where younger Bruce looked like he was having a crisis and older Bruce was staring at the cookies. He would’ve laughed at the sight if it weren’t for the circumstances.

“Bruce, Jay–”

Bruce picked up his head so fast, he probably got whiplash, “You died?”

“Yes. But Jason–”

“Died, as in, your heart stopped.”

“Yeah, but that’s not important–”

“Not important? Jason you died.”

Jason blinked, “Yeah, but you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. Jason–”

“I do not think I am focusing on the wrong thing. Why are you so calm about this?”

He groaned, “It happened like… eight years ago. This body doesn’t even have any of the same cells as the one that was buried–”

“Buried?”

Jason threw his hands in the air, “Whadaya think Bruce did with my body? Kept it on a table for six months?”

“Six months? I thought your heart just stopped, and then CPR! How–”

“Oh so you accept Superman coming back, no problem, but when it’s me, suddenly it’s impossible.”

“He’s Kryptonian! And you–” Bruce buried his face in his hands, “you would’ve been… you wouldn’t have known–”

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal when Jason–”

Bruce uncovered his face, leaving only bafflement, “Am I not allowed to be distraught over my son dying?”

“Yes! You’re allowed to be! But I am not your son. Your son ha–”

“But you are my son! Doesn’t matter what universe. In every universe you exist, I will always see you as my son, and I will always want the best for you–”

“It never ends well for me!” His voice cracked on the last word. 

Bruce frowned and took a step forward, “What– what do you mean by that?”

 “Fuck.” He ran his hand down his face, “You’re watering the wrong plant.” 

That seemed to snap Bruce out of his state of distraught, sending him out of the kitchen. 

Jason went back behind the counter to pipe more meringue roses, but found himself just staring at the tray.

He couldn’t even tell him.

He literally took over the Gotham drug trade before he could legally drink, and he couldn’t tell a father that his son had a tumor.

“Jason, are you alright?”

He snapped out of whatever trance he was in, “I just hate April.”

Bad news is, Bruce definitely knows something’s wrong and is very much doing his hovering but in the Batman way– thing. 

Good news is, because Jay dropped the Dead-Jason bomb, he was hovering around Jason and not Jay. 

Bad news is, Jay feels super guilty for all the things he said to him, especially considering he stayed with him while he was having his episode, and even though he’s been a complete ass about it, he still hasn’t told Bruce or Alfred about the tumor.

Good news, Bruce let him drive the Batmobile to Gotham general since grappling wouldn’t work well with his knee, and Alfred couldn’t drop them off unless they wanted to risk their secret identities.

He pulled up right next to Spoiler, and rolled down the window, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”

Jay was 90% sure that Stephanie was grinning under the mask as she slid in, “Wait, how are you drivin’ with your knee?”

“When your partners are generally under the age of 16, you tend to realize that autopilot features are more practical.”

She nodded and glanced at all the buttons, “I’m assumin’ you’re gonna to tell me not to touch any of them.”

“Most of them are speed enhancers or shock absorbers. You can touch them, but they won’t activate unless we’re going over 70mph.” Product of Dick’s ADHD.

“Is there an aux cord?”

“Dude, there’s bluetooth.”

Jay parked the Batmobile in an alleyway a couple buildings from Gotham General. Did that mean he had to crutch around farther? Yes. But Bruce told him he can’t just park the Batmobile in a normal parking space. Was that a while ago? Yes, and he didn’t think to ask if the rules change if he has a broken knee.

“Oi, Tinky-Winky, would ya mind grabbing the cookies in the trunk?” 

“‘Course, Mike Wazowski.” She went around back, “How the fuck do I open this.”

It took them about 15 minutes to walk into Gotham General, mainly because of Jay's incredible crutching skills, and when they got there the receptionist was not impressed.

“What’s with the cosplay kids? If you’re gonna commit to being Robin, ya gotta at least wear the short shorts.”

Jay gave the receptionist (Drew) his signature Robin grin, “I wore the short shorts for almost four years. I got the road rash to prove it.”

“Look kid, if ya wanna get your knee checked out for free and without anyone contacting CPS, try the free clinic in Park Row. Ya don’t needa wear your upcycled Halloween costume there.”

“I don’t need my knee–” Well, he does need his knee to be checked out, but that wasn’t why they were there, “I’m really Robin, do you have one of those TSA bucket things? I’m about to start pulling outa buncha bat-themed things.”

Drew rolled their eyes, then looked around and gave him one of those empty paper bins. He started with his utility belt, “Ok, so I have my rebreather, some batarangs, and my grapple gun.” then he moved to his right pocket, “Some tranquilizers, a lockpick, and a universal tool,” He reached into his left pocket, “smoke pellets, bat-bolas,” He then reached into the pocket that was near his left knee, “A first aid kit, various antidotes to fear toxin, Ivy’s spores and Joker Venom and… some bat shaped goldfish.” He grinned, “I also have some stickers in the pocket under my brace.”

They blinked, “How do you fit all of that…?”

Jay gave her a little shrug, “Because I’m Robin.” He began taking the things and putting them back in its place. 

Stephanie stole the goldfish before Jay could put them back in his pocket, “We heard there was a Robin superfan, and we just wanted to say hi.”

“Let me check with Pediatrics.” Drew dialed a number, “Hey Ruth, I have Robin and one of his caped friends down here. Think I can send them up?” a pause, “Hold up, let me ask,” They looked back to them, “How long are ya kids free till?”

Jay looked to Stephanie, “I’m free for the whole day, but I’m your ride home.”

She shrugged, “I just gotta be home for dinner.”

“Before the sun sets. We took the Batmobile.”

Drew nodded, “The kids are sayin’ around 7:30. So that’s about four hours in each unit.” Another pause, “Well, I can give ‘em the bands, but you’re gonna have to figure that out.” another pause, “I’ll send them up in like… five minutes. Oh and Robin’s on crutches.”

Drew settled them with visitor passes, and Stephanie traded them for a ziplock of cookies, and they hobbled to the elevator, and went to the pediatrics floor. 

They met Ruth, who was a sweet old lady that almost refused the cookies they had brought, but did for the sake of her colleagues, and guided them to the Medical Unit.

Jay decided to leave his crutches at the door (even though Ruth protested about bones not healing right– The bones weren’t growing right in the first place) just to preserve a bit more of the Robin magic. The brace and the limp were already breaking the illusion, he didn’t need the crutches to completely shatter that.

Maybe… maybe that’s why he couldn’t tell Bruce about the tumor. Because when they put on the capes they became close to gods. Except Jay could no longer be extraordinary because his bones were growing wrong. Something in his cellular makeup was fundamentally flawed. 

No.

Today is not about him. It’s about these kids. And they deserved to be blithe. So Jay refused to let himself allow any negativity take over his consciousness. Not when all these kids’ spirits were immediately lifted just because Robin had come to visit them. 

And he was glad Steph was with him, because even though not many of the kids knew who she was, they ended up adoring her. She somehow knew every time when Jay’s energy started to run low and found ways to keep the kids from noticing that. 

They took a break around 2:30 for a late lunch, where Jay once again rested his eyes. 

“What’s got you so tired? I thought you were off the night shift.”

“Knee won’t let me sleep.” It’s become more of a routine. Resting during lunch because he couldn’t fall asleep due to the stabbing bone pains in his knee.

“Why not just take ibuprofen or something?”

He shook his head. Even though he took it when he had those fevers, he’s not going to take it for pain he can power through. “Even if they’re in fancy packaging, I can never really trust them.”

She slowly nodded, “I think I get it. My mom got hurt when I was younger. Now, she’s…never off the painkillers.”

“My mom–” he played with the velcro on his brace, “She, uh, she had cancer. After a while we couldn’t afford chemo. So she switched to painkillers. Every once in a while they were laced.” He shrugged. “I guess seeing that at a young age hardwired something in my brain.” He doesn’t usually talk to anyone about this. Yeah, he’s changing the topic, “The Wayne foundation has a rehab unit. I, uh, added things into the program that I thought would help. Obviously it’s your mom’s choice, but you guys can talk to Bruce…Wayne about it when you’re ready.” 

“Thanks Robin.” She placed a hand on his arm, “And I’m sorry about your mom.” She paused and frowned, “We’re goin’ into the Oncology unit next. Are you gonna be ok?”

He gave her a small smile, “It happened a while ago. I’m fine about it now.” He’s ignoring the fact that he was crying for her like a much smaller child four days ago.

He’s also ignoring genetics and how technically he’s not fine about it now because it’s really cutting him off at the knee right now. Haha, that was kinda funny.

Not really.

If the tumor grows too large he might have to get his leg amputated. Was it already too big? He… he hasn’t really been thinking about that. Mami didn’t have to get her arm amputated. They caught the tumor early enough to scrape it off and blast any of the remaining bad cells with chemo. 

…If the tumor grew too big it could kill him. And Bruce and Alfred and Dick– they’d all be– 

He stood up.“I’m gonna call B real quick. Tell him how we’re doin’.” 

Stephanie nodded, “Can I have your sandwich?”

“Knock yourself out.”

He hobbled over to the family bathroom, shut the door behind him and pulled his phone out.

All he had to do was tell him. Three words. I have cancer. That’s all. They were just three words. They were each words that have been in his vocabulary since he was little. They weren’t foreign. They were just words. 

Words are easy.

He pressed on Bruce’s number, and waited as the line rang.

He could say it.

Three words.

I have cancer.

He would say it.

“Jay, Lad. How’s the visit going?”

“It’s goin’ good. It’s goin’ good.” He rubbed the knot forming in his chest, “All the kids love Spoiler by the way.” 

Bruce chuckled, “I already said I trust your judgment, I just need more time.”

“Yeah, I know.” It’s just three words, “Hey Bruce?”

“Yes, Jason?”

Three words. He could say three words, “I… love you.”

Those… were the wrong three words. He’s a wimp. He’s a schemiel. He’s the biggest cream puff to ever cream.

There was the sound of something dropping, then a pause, “Is everything alright?”

It’s ok. He can still tell him. He can– “We’re about to go to the pediatrics oncology unit.”

“Will you be alright? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I’m alright. Besides, I still haven’t met the kid Stephanie was talking about.” Yeah, all the kids were excited to see him, but the way most of the parents acted wasn’t the way a parent acted when their child was meeting their hero. 

Wait, he’s distracting himself, “Bruce, I–”

“Do you want me to swing by?”

He paused. Letting the blood rush in his ears from the words left unsaid, “Yeah.”

“Ok. I have a couple things to finish up, but I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Ok.” Jay was about to hang up.

“I love you too, Jay. You mean the world to me.”

“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath, “Cool. Amazing. I’m gonna hang up now. Bye. See ya.” He hung up and tapped his phone against his forehead. 

It’s ok. 

It was better this way. It was definitely a conversation that was better to have in person.

Obviously he wouldn’t tell Bruce in front of the kids, or in front of Stephanie, but he’d tell him.

He’d tell him. 

He went back out to where Stephanie was, only to find her talking with Ruth. Break’s over.

It was… It was a lot harder trying to stay upbeat for these kids. He was acting like a lifeboat for these kids and their parents, when really he was being pulled into the same riptide.

At least the nurse (Nancy) who was guiding them through was nice about it. She’d take a little longer while walking to the next room, pause in front of the door to tell them the kid’s name and if they were more shy or talkative. If today was a good day or a bad day. Then she’d take her time while telling the parents– she’d just give them more time.

Then Batman came, and Jay doesn’t know if that was better or worse. 

It was better for Stephanie. Since Bruce was there she let herself slip out, if the kid didn’t seem to pay Spoiler any mind. It made guilt bubble in his stomach.

Maybe it was better for Jay, because Bruce knew him better. That also made it worse. But better. It was better.

They paused in front of the only door they hadn’t been to in the wing, “So this is our last kiddo of the day, Evelyn. She’s nine and she’s a big fan of yours. We saved her for last so she could have the most time with ya, Robin. She says she met you a while back, so– well, ya know to at least pretend to remember her even if you don’t.”

He leaned his shoulder against the wall for support, “Nanc, have I let you down at all so far today?” 

“Yes. You’ve been walking around without your crutches. Giving all the medical professionals around here aneurysms.” though she said it with a playful grin, so she couldn’t be too upset. “She’s been pretty chipper all day, so, this’ll be great.” Nancy slipped into the room to give the parents a heads up. After a minute she peeked back out, motioning her head towards the room.

Jay stopped fidgeting with the end of his cape and followed Nancy in. 

He gave a little salute to the dad, and who he assumed to be her older sister, who was filming. When he was in the girl’s line of sight, she gasped, “Robin! You came!”

The memory of a seven year old girl lost in Robinson park during an Ivy breakout was brought to the front of his mind. He remembers playing on the monkey bars with her while they waited for both Batman and her dad to find them. “Of course I did.” He looked back at Nurse Nancy, “Ya may not know this, but Evelyn and I go way back.” He sat down in the chair next to the bed, gesturing to Stephanie, “This is my friend Spoiler, and you remember Batman. From last time. God, it feels like it’s been forever. Ya haven’t gotten caught up in any of Ivy’s schemes recently, have ya?”

She grinned at his recognition, “I haven’t, but by the looks of it, you have.” She pointedly looked at his knee brace.

“Puh-lease, ya really think someone could get the jump on me?” He lightly smacked the side of his brace, “This was a product of my own demise. Really I’m my own worst enemy.”

“We kinda match.” Evelyn shuffled around the blankets, showing off a yellow cast over her knee.

He froze. Huh, he guessed they did match. “Can I sign it?”

She looked at him with stars in her eyes, “You really wanna sign it?”

“What’s the point of having a cast if it’s not decorated?” He reached into his back pocket to grab a sharpie. 

Stay gold, ~Robin and then he started doodling a bunch of bats.

They continued talking– something about a tv show about a ladybug and a cat who were also magical superheroes– then she started talking about Harry Potter, so Jay obviously recommended Percy Jackson. Then she started talking about a tv show about gem people? And the universe? At least Stephanie understood the tv references and apparently her favorite stone was amethyst. Which made sense, because of the whole purple theme.

He could see the moment Evelyn’s Dad built up the courage to actually talk to Batman, “Thank you for coming. It really means a lot to my daughter and– thank you.”

Bruce hummed, turning his gaze from Jay to the man, “Robin has a big heart, so when Spoiler suggested visiting…”

“Wait, I gotta show you my drawings!” Jay turned his attention back to Evelyn as she reached for the bedside tray, but it was too far from her reach. 

She started to turn around to grab it, but her sister stopped her before she could hurt her leg in the process, “Let’s slow down a bit here. Robin’s not gonna magically disappear without saying goodbye.” Her sister moved the tray closer to Evelyn and sat down at the foot of the bed. Now that the camera wasn’t covering her face, he was pretty sure she was in his physics class. Crazy small world. Her name was Reagan.

Evelyn grabbed the papers off of the tray and handed them to Jay, “This one’s of you and me playing on the playground, because we never go to go on the slide, or the swings and those are the best parts of a playground.”

Jay grinned, “I would say the best part of a playground is the merry-go-round.” 

Evelyn’s Dad turned to fully face Bruce, “It still means a lot. You and Robin saving the little things.”

“This isn’t a little thing at all. If someone hurts Robin, I can punch them back. With this–”

“This one's you and Batman taking a vacation because Reggie says you guys really need one,”

“--You’re much braver than I am, Mr. Harris.” Bruce looked back at Jay, “I don’t know what I would do if I found out one of my sons were sick.”

“--and this one… this one is you fighting Cancer for me.”

Jay forced himself not to freeze. He kept his eyes glued on the drawing of Robin zapping a glob that was presumably cancer with the bat-cancer-be-gone ray, while Evelyn stood behind him.

Jay took a deep breath, “Here’s the thing about Cancer. Its power is that it multiplies. If I tried to fight it alone, it could just multiply and take over.” The words clawed at his throat with hypocrisy. He undid the clasp to his cape, “but if we have more people to help us, like your doctor, and the nurses, and your Dad, and Reagan helping us, and we use chemo warfare–” He placed the cape over her shoulders, blinking because the lenses of his domino were starting to fog up, “And a little bit of Robin Magic, I think– I think we can fight Cancer. Together. And win.” 

Evelyn leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his torso in a hug, “Ya really think so, Robin?”

He returned the embrace, nodding, “Yeah. You’ll win.”

They dropped Stephanie back off in the Burrows, when Jay realized they weren’t headed back to the manor. They were going deeper into the city. 

Bruce must have sensed his confusion, but he didn’t say anything to clarify his thought process. However, Jay didn’t ask, because eventually they got to Wayne Tower, and Bruce grappled them to the top, so they were overlooking Gotham.

If there was any time to tell Bruce, it would be that moment. Or maybe it was probably when they were in the car, or when he broke his knee, or right after he got that first fever. But the past was the past, and he had to tell Bruce. He’s held it off for long enough.

He kicked his leg, “Hey Bruce?”

Batman grunted in acknowledgement. Cape fluttering in the wind.

“Thanks for bein’ here for me.” He wrung out his fingers.

He felt Bruce’s gaze turn to him, “I know I am not the best at communicating, but I’ll always be here if you need me.” 

Jay searched Bruce's eyes, wishing he wasn’t wearing the stupid cowl.

It’s just three words. He could say them. He inhaled slowly and opened his mouth to–

“I’m proud of you, Jason.”

He was going to scream. He was going to throw up. The unsaid words felt like they were growing and growing and soon they would be stuck in his throat, never to escape. “Bruce, I–”

“I mean it. I know it was tough for you, but you still tried your best to brighten up each one of those kids’ day. And you did. Just like you have mine, every single day since you hit me with that tire iron. You have a big heart, Jay. One that has grown with time.” Bruce paused, before placing his hand on top of Jay’s, “I think you would’ve made her so incredibly proud. Your mother. And your father. They would be proud of the man you’ve become, and the future you’re striving for. I know I am.”

His eyes began to burn as the lenses to his domino fogged up.  No. He wasn’t going to cry. He had to be strong while he told Bruce. He had to be.

Jay scooted closer to Bruce, who opened up an arm to wrap part of his cape around Jay, holding him closer than he usually did. Like a subconscious part of him knew that Jay was slowly slipping away. “What we do– it’s dangerous. If you– If what happened to–” Bruce paused and took a deep breath, “I’m glad you’re allowing yourself to live. I am beyond grateful you’re hanging up the cape.” Bruce rested his chin on top of Jay’s head, “Though I’m gonna miss having you by my side.”

“You’ll make sure to watch your six? And not spook any kids? You’ll–” His mouth twitched into a frown, which he immediately tried to turn around, but it was like the muscles in his face weren’t connected to his brain, “You’ll be ok without me?” 

“Jay, lad, I’ve been at this for a long time. I think I’ll do fine. Besides, you said you had a successor in mind.”

“I gotta get Dick’s blessing first. Then I’ll tell you. But they also have to agree, and it’ll still take a while for them to get up to Robin standards, and—”

“There’ll be some adjustments, but you’ll still be close. If I’m ever in any real trouble, I trust you just as much as I trust Dick. Active vigilante or not.”

Jay undid the top velcro on his brace and then tightened it. He has to be strong. He has to tell him. He undid the velcro again and then refastened it. Then again and again and–

“Jason, I know you probably feel guilty right now, but you deserve to be happy. This doesn’t have to be permanent if you don’t want it to be. I want you to be happy and let yourself move forward. No matter what that path looks like, or how many times you change directions, I’ll support you.”

He focused on the sliver of golden on the horizon, peaking through the cityscape, “I need to quit. Being a hero, it just– it won’t work anymore.” He took a deep breath, trying to sync up with the rise and fall of Bruce’s chest. 

He had to be strong. 

He had to tell him. “I…” 

‘I don’t know what I would do if I found out one of my sons were sick.’ 

“...Just realized, this is our last time out as Batman and Robin together.” 

He would tell Bruce. Just not now. Not when it’s supposed to be a happy moment. 

“It is, isn’t it?”

He looked up at Bruce, “We had a good run.”

Jason wanted to go home. The longer Jay held out telling Younger Bruce that he had cancer, the more likely it was that Bruce was going to pummel him for not telling him that his son was terminally ill. And it’s not like Jason hadn’t tried multiple times. He’s tried cornering him in the study, where it just turned into another conversation about his death. He tried telling him in the Batcave, but there was an emergency and Batman was needed, and he tried telling him while Jay was visiting the hospital, but then he got a phone call and had to leave.

Not to mention, the anniversary of his death was slowly creeping up on him, and he couldn’t even be alone because they were kind of stuck in the manor until they were found and brought back home.

How long does it take to find someone? Three someones? It’s not like Tim and Babs had to build a whole new machine. Obviously, time could be passing differently for them, but the more time they took the wider his gaping hole of guilt grew.

That was why he was currently encoding a message to add to the beacon that read ‘Come quick. I keep dying. This isn’t fun anymore. ~JT”

Suddenly, a hand rested on the back of the Batchair, and out of instinct, Jason was about to punch the person it belonged to, when he realized it was just Alfred.

And then he realized it was Alfred, the person he’s been trying his hardest to avoid because he would immediately know Jason was hiding something and he would feel guilty for lying to him.

“Master Jason, when was the last time you slept?”

Jason grinned, “Last night.” Albeit, it was only an hour or two because his mind has decided he isn’t allowed any peaceful dreams, but it was the truth, “Personally, I think you should be asking younger Jason that. That kid’s eye bags could replace his backpack and still have extra room.”

Jason knew he messed up when Alfred made his ‘that is precisely the topic I wished to discuss with you’ face. “So you know what is troubling the young master?”

“I’m not talkin’ to the kid.” He felt like a stupid little kid who had just been caught and was now grasping for any excuse.

He could tell him. He could tell Alfred and then this whole nightmare would be– it wouldn’t be over, it would probably get worse, but sometimes things need to get worse before they get better. 

He took in a deep breath, “Jason–”The door of the elevator in the batcave dinged, and out came the kid in question. “...Has something to tell you.”

Why in the world could he not get the goddamned words out? It was like some mystical force was stopping him from doing so.

Jay froze and gave Jason a pointed look, but then looked to Alfred, “Yeah, I do! I was wondering if Jason and Dick could come with me to visit the Titans. Apparently Roy, Donna and Kori really wanna meet you two.”

Jason stared at Jay.

Jay shrugged all innocently, “Dick said your deathiversary was soon too, so maybe being out of town for that would be a way to take your mind off…of…it?”

Jason turned to Alfred, “Can you tell your grandson that I am not talking to him.”

He raised an eyebrow, “And why might that be? I thought Master Jason had apologized to you for his outburst from the other day.”

“He knows why.”

Alfred looked from Jason to Jay, then back to Jason, “Well, I can assure you, I am not keen on playing telephone. I expect you both to have sorted out your issues before you make your way back upstairs.”

And with that, Alfred left.

And Jason, being the stubborn man-child he was, refused to talk.

“I really am sorry for throwin’ your death in your face.”

Jason glared at him.

“Ok, I know that’s not what you’re angry at me for, but can you really be angry at me for havin–”

Jason got up to leave. Jesus Christ, was he always this difficult?

“Hold up–Wait! I tried to tell Bruce, I really did! Multiple times. But every time I tried he would interrupt me, or it wasn’t the right time, and if ya really think about it, it’s kinda better this way–”

Jason turned around, baffled, because “Better this way? Please, explain to me how letting’ a tumor grow is better than tellin’ your guardian you’re sick.”

Jay paused, “When you put it like that, it sounds bad– but if I tell Bruce now, it’ll be nothin’ but x-rays and MRIs and blood tests, and then surgery and–”

Jason was going to smack his skull open on the stalactites.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, and I will… eventually… do those things, but knowin’ Bruce, if I tell him now, he’ll make me cancel my trip to New York.” Jay dragged the stool from the workbench closer to him and sat down, “What if I can’t tour Columbia by the time it’s gone? It’s my dream school. How can ya expect me to just throw away my dreams? The moment we come back from New York, I promise I’ll tell Bruce. I just want the week with the Titans to be…normal before everythin’ falls to pieces.”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose as his intestines braided themselves together in a knot. Why was he about to… “If you don’t tell him as soon as we’re back, I’m gonna. Are we clear?”

“Yes.” Relief flooded onto Jay’s face, “Thank you.”

(Author here! We’re about to go to Titans Tower, and I’ve been re reading comic storylines and I don’t know what lineup I want, so, I am mixing and matching, so please don’t come at me. Also, my main knowledge of the Titans come from the show Teen Titans, so just a heads up if they’re not how they are in the comics. I also really wanted Raven in this, but if timelines are timelining, she should be evil right now, so… I guess that works in my favor plot-wise, but gosh darn it, I really wanted Raven in here. Oh well)

Out of everyone, Jason was pretty sure Dick was the most excited to see the Titans, which made sense, because Jason barely knew them at this age, and Jay had the impending doom of talking to Bruce about cancer. Jason also had the impending doom of getting the snot beaten out of him.

Still there was an odd energy about Dick. Like he didn’t also fully like the idea of seeing the Titans again. Which was somewhat understandable, because Kori was his ex and yada yada yada. Also, something about the wedding not working out because Raven went evil and crashed the whole thing. Maybe Dick should’ve given them a heads up on that, but also, props to Raven. It was pretty badass. Apparently Dick and Kori were still together, from what Jason could piece together, but honestly, he barely tried to understand their relationship on a normal day, and he wasn’t going to start trying now.

They were in the elevator when Jay’s eyes blew wide and he started digging through his backpack, pulling out a bottle of cheap cologne and spraying it on his chest and the backs of his knees. 

Dick coughed, “That’s a bit too much there, Jay. Are you trying to assault Gar’s nose?”

Jay raised his eyebrows, “Yeah, actually.” 

The elevator door dinged open and they walked into the living room of the Tower, just as Jason realized Jay was doing it to get Gar off the cancer scent. 

He scanned the room and groaned when he realized who was in the room.

Jay followed Jason’s gaze, smile immediately dropping into a scowl, “What are you doing here?”

“Kyle! Hey, what’s up, man!” Dick strode over to shake Rayner’s hand.

“Nothing much,” Rayner light heartedly clapped Dick’s back,  “Got back from the Oa a couple days ago.” He turned his gaze to Jason looking him up and down, before turning to Jay, “There’s no way your five foot ass grows to be that.”

Jay crossed his arms, “I am five foot four, Elphaba.”

“Jason.” Dick gave Jay his ‘be nice’ look.

Jason nudged Jay, “Yeah. Don’t disrespect the Witch of the West like that.” He gave Kyle a wicked grin, causing the dude’s mouth to open slightly, “Besides, he’s like Rango.”

Kyle’s ring dimmed, before he grit his teeth, causing it to brighten again, “I’m gonna get dick– or Donna. I’m gonna get Donna.” and then he sped off.

Jay grinned and held out a hand for a low five, which Jason obviously returned.

Dick looked from the door Rayner exited from to Jay, “Hold up, why don’t you like Kyle?”

“He doesn’t like me.” Jay moved to sit on the couch, “If you’re asking me to be polite with him, I’m not gonna. I don’t owe him nothin’. In fact, he–” 

Suddenly a toddler came out of nowhere running straight for Jay, “JAYBIRB!!” 

Since when have there been toddlers in Titans Tower? 

Jay’s face immediately lit up, “Lian! H–ow, watch the knee, how have the Tiny Titans been?”

“Miwage dwowned in da toiwet.”

If that was Lian then…Jason and Dick immediately turned to the door, “Roy!” 

Roy grinned and walked over to ruffle Jay’s hair, “Hey guys, how're you liking our reality?”

Dick leaned against the couch, with a grin, “It’s a lot better than most of the realities we’ve been to, that’s for sure.”

Ya know who’s going to actually beat up Jason? Dick. He was going to pummel him for not telling.

Roy turned to Jason, “Puberty hit you like a freight train.”

“It was the forbidden Mountain Dew.”

Roy nodded, “Dick said something about a Lazarus Pit. He was ranting about Talia when he came back last month.”

“Oh my god. Did he say anything about her kidnapping me? Because she didn’t.”

Roy looked to Dick, who nodded and mouthed the words ‘she totally did.’ 

“If you continue to scorn her, I will tell Damian, and we’ll both stab you together.”

Jay looked over the couch at them, “Who’s Damian?”

Dick opened his mouth to respond, when Victor and Gar walked in, causing Jay to sit in a way that was forced to be casual, “Hey guys!”

Gar immediately sniffed, and then sneezed, looking at Jay with a frown, “Are you wearing Nautica?”

He gave him little finger guns, “It’s… Adidas.” Jay grinned, in a ‘my lies have worked’ sort of way. 

“It’s… too much, that’s what it is, Brah.”

“You vaguely smell like the boy’s locker room.” Victor went to sit next to Jay, where Lian immediately started playing with the blue lightbulb things in his cyberskeleton. “I saw videos from you visiting that hospital. Is Robin taking a more domestic approach to vigilantism?”

“Sure,” Jay crossed his arms, sank deeper into the couch, and gave Victor a half smile “But not in the way you’d think.” Just then, younger Dick and Kori walked in. Minus Donna, Jason was pretty sure that was the current Titans lineup, so… Jay snorted, “Looks like Kyle’s officially useless.”

Younger Dick looked like he was about to lecture Jay about being nice but his expression turned to concern, “Have you been eating enough?”

“Hi Kori, hello to you too, oh least favorite brother of mine.”

“I–” Dick frowned, “Did Bruce adopt another one?”

“Nah. Not yet at least.” Jay carefully stood up and gestured to the rec room “I actually wanted to talk with you about something.”

Jay crutched over to sit on the armchair in the rec room as Dick closed the door, “Is everything ok?”

The concern on his face was clear as day. And Jay knew before coming that he would notice something was up. He was sure the only reason he had Bruce and Alfred and everyone in the manor relatively fooled is because they’ve seen him every day while his health declined. Dick on the other hand– the last time he saw him was a month ago while he was dancing, flipping, and singing on stage. Now, Jay could barely make it up a flight of stairs without being winded.

But this was supposed to be a fun, happy trip. For his future. He doesn’t want to think about a stupid tumor that will be gone hopefully before Christmas. 

Maybe he could write his Common App essay on it.

“Jason?” Somehow Dick had made his way towards him and was now sitting on the arm of the couch Jay was on. 

He blinked. Thoughts. Right. Words, “Whaddya think about Tim?”

Dick tilted like he didn’t understand what Jason was getting at, “I think he’s nice. I’m glad to see you making friends.”

“Ok, cool. That’s great. So, I’ve been trainin’ him, but not like too much, with simulations, I haven’t told Bruce yet, but I think, he’s a good fighter and–”

“Time out,” Dick held up a hand, “I think you’re forgetting to mention a couple of things. What are you training him for?”

“To be Robin. Duh. What else? I’m askin’ if ya think he’d be a good fit. Cus ya know, you’re the first.”

There was a pause, “Did… Bruce fire you again?”

Jay shook his head, “Nah, I’m choosin’ to retire. That way things’ll be smoother when I start che…ollege. College.”

Dick smirked, “So you’re planning on filling Bruce’s nest before it becomes empty.”

He tilted his head side to side, “More or less, yeah, but I wanted to get your… blessing? Yeah, blessing, to pass down the mantle.”

“Look at you.” There was a soft smile on his face, “All mature and grown up.” He paused, “But you’re not allowed to be taller than me.”

“Dude… No need to rub it in. I’m not planning on swimming through wiper fluid anytime soon. Or ever.” 

“What, Little Wing? Don’t want eternal youth? Ra’s skin is just glowing. Maybe radioactive, but glowing.”

Jay grinned and rolled his eyes, “But seriously, do you think Tim would be a good fit? Cus, if not, I dunno, you can choose–”

“I think Tim’s a great choice. Mainly because the alternate versions of us seem to already know him, but also, you’re the one who currently has the yellow cape. If you think it would fit around Tim’s shoulders, then I support that.”

“...technically, a nine year old has it.”

Dick chuckled and ruffled Jay’s hair, “Then he’s gonna have to get that kid’s approval.” He slid down the arm of the chair so they were both sharing the armchair.

Jay shoved at him, “Get off! Your giant tushie is crushing me!”

Dick, like his namesake, just made himself even more comfortable, “So, are you planning on joining the Titans? Got a new name picked out?”

Jay tried again to make more room for himself to no avail. And God was trying to fight with Dick tiring, so he just crossed his arms, “I told ya. I’m retirin’. No capes. No kevlar. Just Jason Todd-Wayne.”

Dick looked at him like he didn’t believe him, “Like… no more vigilantism. Period.”

“Mmmhm.” he tightened the velcro to his knee brace.

“Are you sure everything is alright?”

He nodded, shifting under Dick’s scrutiny. There’s no way Dick could actually figure out Jay had cancer, though. He might be having the same train of thought older Dick had, but Dick didn’t have enough context clues.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m here if it’s something you feel like you can’t talk to Bruce or Alfred about.” Dick paused, “Or if it’s something you should tell Bruce or Alfred, but just… can’t.”

He could.. 

No. 

Jay had to be the one to tell Bruce. He had to hold it together for him. He couldn’t act like a scared little kid who needed to hide behind his older brother, “I’ve just been pretty stressed recently. And I know that my workload is just gonna get heavier, and I love helping people, and I loved being Robin, don’t get me wrong, but… I can’t anymore.”

“Jason, I’m not going to get angry at you for growing up. I just wanted to make sure you were doing it on your own accord. Not because someone was forcing you to put down the cape.”

“Bruce didn’t fire me again, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Well, yeah, but also, do you want blueberry pancakes?” Code for ‘are you being blackmailed.’

He gave him a small smile, “I’m retirin’ on my own accord. I was plannin’ on doing it eventually, but…” He shrugged, “Universal signs and all that jazz.”

Dick gestured towards the knee brace, “Was it the dislocated knee?”

“Actually, it was getting three fevers in one month.”

“So that’s why you look like a sick Victorian child who just recovered from scarlet fever.”

Jay huffed and leaned back into the couch, “Well that wasn’t a nice thing to say.”

Jason does not understand why he agreed to come here. Yeah, he was kinda friends with Roy, and Kori, and Donna, but not this version of them, and it is so weird being about the same age as all of them. 

Currently, Jay, Dick (the younger one) and Donna were touring NYU. Dick (his brother), Roy, Lian, and Gar were outside teaching Lian how to do cartwheels, Kori was out running errands, because now the Titans were throwing Jay a retirement party, and… he had no clue what everyone else was doing. 

Doesn’t matter anyways. He was in his own little bubble re-reading A Death in the Family by James Agee because Jason was a masochist and wanted to see if the comic from that one universe drew inspiration from the novel or if they just used the title.

He heard someone entering the room, and based on their gait, it wasn't Cyborg, who tended to have a heavier step, so process of elimination, “Skidaddle, Rayner. You’re infecting the room with green vibes.” Now, did Jason have a reason to hate this version of Kyle? No. Not really. But Jay obviously had his qualms against the dude, so Jason did too.

Rayner, like the nuisance he was, sat down on the couch perpendicular to Jason, “Are you magic or something?”

Was Kyle trying to condescend him? Not him, but Jay, but that was still him. Jason looked up to fix him with a deadpan stare, “Take a wild guess.”

That got Kyle to slightly shift in his seat. Wimp. This wasn’t even his half deadpan. And contrary to popular belief, Jason could be nice, so he went back to reading.

Except someone obviously didn’t take the hint that he didn’t want to be bothered and he could feel him staring at him. Back during his multiversal game of cat and mouse, usually when Rayner started staring at him, it ended with fists flying.

“Do I have something on my face?” He asked without looking up from his book. It was probably such a Bruce move, but oh well. Some Batman things work.

“I’m just confused on how you’re supposed to be Robin.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What, picturing me in the green shorts?”

“I wasn’t.” A pause, “It’s just, primary colors don’t seem to fit the ‘Angst Ridden Bad Boy’ aesthetic you’ve got going on. At least the younger Jason’s a theater kid, so it makes–”

Jason side eyed Rayner, “I will smack you back into orbit, if you do not shut your trap.” It was typical of him to somehow jab at him and Jay at the same time.

Kyle just shrugged and flipped the pages of a sketchbook, “Feels like an empty threat, but ok.”

Before Jason could prove him wrong, the elevator opened, and Dick, Donna, and Jay poured out. 

“.--the Bobst library was… It probably holds more books than the library on the Watchtower.

God, it was behemothic.” Jay crutched over to the couch Jason was sitting on, handed his crutches to him, and then flopped onto the couch.

Jason balanced the crutches against the couch, “How was NYU?”

“Huge. And… pulchritudinous. In a modern art-deco sorta sense. There’s a lotta windows.” Jay was forcing himself not to breathe heavily, but so he probably wasn’t letting on how tired he actually was.

Dick definitely picked up on it, because he handed Jay a water bottle and sat next to Kyle, catching a glance at his sketchbook, looked at Jason, and then frowned like he was mentally adding a conversation to be had.

Donna sat next to Jay, “The tour guide was nice. She made sure to stop and talk at places where there was seating in case Jason needed a break.”

“Which, I didn’t, because I’m a vigilante, but I took them because a normal civilian wouldn’t have my stamina.”

Dick leaned forwards in his seat, “Sure, Jase. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Except, Jay couldn’t sleep at night. The throb in his knee was pretty much unbearable at this point. The pain was alway worse at night. 

He left Dick’s room as quietly as he could– since the guest room had been built, he’d been sleeping there, but since older Jason and Dick were here, he was fine with going back to rooming with Dick. Pillow walls.

He didn’t even know what he was gonna do, walk it off? He could barely do that. Honestly, it made his tibia feel even more like a crispy sponge, rather than a bone. God, that’s basically what it was. 

He probably wouldn’t even have his leg for much longer, would he? It’s been at least two months. What if it–

Nope. It probably didn’t. Otherwise he’d feel worse. Right? 

Jay was so lost in thought, he almost walked straight into Gar. Who was looking at him like he’d just been shot or–

Fuck. 

“I knew it was smelling off earlier… you– Jason, your scent is off.”

He felt his ears start to ring as the blood rushed from his face, “I mean I… am going through… puberty.”

His face contorted into something on the edge of worried and confused, “Jason, you smell like… you smell like a tumor.” 

“Maybe… someone on the tour had cancer.”

Gar sniffed again, and slowly shook his head, “Maybe we should go sit down, and then I’ll get Dick–”

“No! Don’t tell him!” It was a whisper shout, but even he could hear the panic in his voice.

He frowned, “You know?”

Welp, there goes plausible deniability. There goes hoping it wasn’t actually cancer and he was just overreacting. “Well… I assumed? I wasn’t fully sure. But I guess, now I know.” He hated the way his voice cracked on that last word. He couldn’t even get angry to get Gar off his back on this because his knee fucking hurt and he just wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t because cancer is stupid. “Just– please don’t Dick. I haven’t even told Batman about it yet–I’ll bake you cookies or something. The jam-filled ones that you like?”

“Dude, you–” Gar covered his face with his hands, and–

This was going to be the end of it wasn’t it? He doesn’t know how he managed to get Jason to agree to keep quiet, but he has a strong feeling he accidentally manipulated him. And currently, the only way he knows how to manipulate Gar is by bribing him.

Gar took in a breath, “When are you planning on telling your boss?”

“When I get back.” He saw him glance at Dick’s door, “Please, Gar. I know that once I get back to Gotham, it’s just going to be test after test, and then treatments until… December at the earliest, and… I just… I need this week to be normal.”

Gar stared at him– no, not at him. Through him. “Ok.” Gar sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I… I get wanting that week of normal, and I know the testing sucks, but the sooner you start those treatments the sooner you’ll get better, dude.”

“It’s just three days.” Jay of all people knew how much could happen in three days. How things could go horribly wrong over a weekend, “I don’t wanna cause him any grief. Please.”

Gar took one long look at Dick’s door, and then turned around to head back towards his own room, but paused at the door, “My mom bought a box of Hertzoggies after my dad cured me from Sakutia.” He looked back at Jay, “We can share a box of cookies together next year.”

Jay gave him a small smile that hopefully said I don’t think I could ever repay you and I’m sorry for manipulating you even though it was a complete accident and I didn’t know.

He was in a room full of a mountain of red, green, and yellow. But the colors were dull. They weren’t as bright as they should be. They were muddy, and brown and… covered in blood. 

Bruce was carrying bodies. One at a time. Each of them in a pristine black suit, placing them each in a coffin. When he looked back to the pile of suits, they were all lined up, each in cases on display. Like a museum of dead robins.

It wasn’t just a museum of dead robins.

It was a museum of dead Jasons.

Each with a plaque at the bottom saying a good soldier, a good soldier, a good soldier.

A uniform too tattered to even tell it was a Robin suit. A uniform covered in ice. A red vest covered in track marks.

A yellow cape with red staining the collar. A case filled with dirt, green gloves barely peeking through the surface. A hollowed out red shirt, intestines still spilling out. 

A costume the size of a toddler covered in cocaine.

Why at the bottom of this case was he still a good soldier?

He closed his eyes. He’s seen too much yellow. He’s seen too much green. He’s seen too much red. 

It’s too much red.

He bumped into Bruce assembling a case. One that didn’t have a suit inside of it. At least not yet. 

Not yet.

Jason was on edge. In all fairness, it was the 26th. But he was going to blame the nightmare and just forget the major trauma anniversary, because hell yeah.

He forced himself not to bake, because younger Dick had put him on cake duty for Jay’s surprise retirement party tomorrow. They’d get the tower ready while Dick, Donna and Jay were touring Columbia. 

Honestly, Jason was glad for the distraction planned tomorrow, but that didn’t help him with the fact he needed a distraction today. 

He found Jay in the living room, half curled up on the couch, a book close to falling out of his hands, because he was asleep. Didn’t even wake up with Jason’s approach. 

He carefully placed a pillow under Jay’s head, and moved  the book on the coffee table. Where, from underneath, a green dog was looking at him. But Gar’s body was angled towards the entrance to the living room.

Kinda like he was guarding Jay.

Hold up, Jay wasn’t wearing any cologne to mask the scent of the tumor. So Gar knows. Did… he tell Dick? Because Dick would probably immediately call Bruce, and thank fuck.

But if Dick knew, he would probably call off the retirement party, because lowkey, it’s a happy cancer! Party with context.

So Dick probably didn’t know. So why was Gar keeping this?

He debated asking, but then Rayner walked in the room, looked like he was going to say something, but immediately closed his mouth when Jason shot him a glare– No. When Gar let out a low growl.

Yup. Gar definitely knew. And if that was Gar’s reaction to someone about to get into Jay’s space while he was sleeping, he was trustworthy enough. 

Jason exited the living room, dragging Rayner by the upper arm, as they made their way to the stairs, “Wanna spar?”

Kyle frowned and then shrugged, “Ok.”

Boom. Distraction found. And he gets to beat up Rayner. 

The next day, Jason was slicing up bananas and a pineapple to go in between the layers of the hummingbird cake he was making, when (his brother) Dick wandered in to check on him. 

“Need any help?”

Jason’s knee jerk reaction would’ve been to say no, but something about how close he’d gotten to Dick in the past few months made Jason hold up a banana and the pineapple, “Which would you like to cut? The bananas, or the ananas.”

That caused Dick to grin, “English is so weird. They just had to be special with their pineapple.” 

Jason looked at the fruit in question, “It is pine-y, I’ll give it that, but you can not tell me this looks like an apple in the slightest.”

“It's fragrant, and an excellent fruit. Ananas fit so much better.”

Dick took the pineapple and one of the heavy duty knives, and started chopping it up.

Jason finished slicing the bananas, so he moved onto the cream cheese frosting. 

Dikc had finished cutting off the peel and had moved to quartering the pineapple, “Do you remember the first time we cooked together?”

“The time when we made the sarmale mofongo fusion, just to see if they’d work out, but then the bat signal went off, so we were rushing to finish off Killer Moth before accidentally burning them?”

“That was one crazy night, wasn’t it?” Dick chuckled, “No, I’m talking about the time we were cooking here. I think you were thirteen? Maybe you had just turned fourteen. It was over that summer.”

Jason frowned, trying to remember, but he couldn’t. If this trip was teaching him anything, it was that he didn’t remember as much as he thought he did. He shook his head.

“We made tochitura together.” He could see Dick smile at himself, “You had to climb the counter to reach the cornmeal for the polenta. And, I had made tochitura with Alfred, and on my own, loads of times before then. And I loved Alfred’s cooking, but there was always something missing.” Dick stopped chopping to look at him, “I’ve had this conversation with the Titans in the past, and I guess the feeling is like missing your parent’s cooking.”

Jason nodded, though he doesn’t think he could remember missing their cooking. Just cooking with them. 

“Whenever I cook with you it tastes like… it tastes like them. It tastes like Haley’s. Like a rest stop in the middle of nowhere, and coming back to the stove every five minutes asking when the food will be ready. It tastes like family.” 

“Oh.” Jason suddenly had a really dumb thought, “You had a ratatouille moment?”

Dick blinked, “Oh, fuck you, yes. I did. But I was actually getting somewhere.”

“Yeah?”

“That was the moment I knew you were my family. Just wanted to let you know. And, I’m glad you’re alive.”

“Oh.” Jason cleared his throat, and dipped a spoon into the cream cheese frosting, holding out for Dick. “You’re a good older brother.”

The Columbia Campus was supposed to be smaller than the NYU campus. At least that’s what he read online. So It should be less tiring. Which was why Jay decided to leave his crutches in the car. Dick was starting to suspect something was up with him, and he had to prove to him he was ok.

Not prove per-say, just… show.

And ignore the glare Dick gave him when he said he’d be fine without them. What a hypocrite. When he came to yell at Bruce last year, his leg was hurt and he definitely wasn’t using crutches.

The tour group was much bigger than their tour group for NYU, and the tour guide was definitely giving the vibes of not wanting to be there.

Jay, Dick, and Donna, had started off in the front of the tour group when they were at the Manzanita Welcome Desk, but now that they were fifteen minutes into the tour, they were starting to trickle towards the middle.

He had run around the entire city of Gotham while he was homeless. He was not getting tired walking around 32 acres.

He picked up his pace. 

A mother of a kid on the tour glanced at him in concern, and he gave her a little smile. 

He didn’t need pity. He didn’t need his memory of visiting his dream school to be tainted with the fact that–

No. He’s not even going to think about it right now. He’s just going to finish this tour, talk to some of the academic advisors for the pre-med track, and then, take a big fat nap.

He let himself trickle towards the back of the group, so he wouldn’t hold anyone up. Dick and Donna followed suit.

Donna frowned, “Are you sure you don’t want me to go get your crutches?”

“I’m fine.” but his breaths were coming out heavier. And they were more than a couple steps behind the group now.

The group started to slow as they passed the Alma Mater statue.

The mother from earlier glanced back at them, and then looked at her son pulling out her phone, “Can we pause here? I want to get a photo of my son with the statue.”

The guy’s ear turned pink, “Mom…”

Jay knew she was just being nice. And he was grateful for it, for the wiggle room. But he wasn’t helpless. 

He was Robin for crying out loud. He was fighting 4 rogues a week two months ago. He was doing six flips a night six weeks ago, while dancing and singing. He was carrying bodies out of a building rigged to explode less than a month ago.

Yet he couldn’t even keep up with a stupid tour guide who didn’t even want to be there. 

He was dully aware of the fact that the mother had finished taking pictures, and they were starting up again.

He was panting, like he’d just run a marathon, and both his legs were aching, and his heart was pounding, and–

How much has his health regressed in the past month?

How close was he to–

He felt the blood drain from every limb in his body, leaving his ears ringing. 

The concrete beneath him began to feel like he was lost out in the sea. Tilting from left to right–

Something gripped his upper arm, as he buckled into something firm. Something steady. And he thinks that firm-steady thing was guiding him somewhere.

But he couldn’t breathe. Something was in his trachea and was stopping him from breathing.

What if it was the tumor?

There was a light thumping under his hand, as it slowly rose and fell. “Alright Jason, breathe with me so I don’t look like an idiot over here. In…” His hand rose, “and out…” and fell. 

He tried to take a deep breath as his hand rose, but his breath hitched, causing him to fully break down. All he could hear was the static-y sound of blood rushing back into his ears.

“I can’t…” 

“You breathe every day Jay. In fact–”

“W-What if I can’t. What if it metastasizes? What if I can’t– what if I can’t go here, and, and never become a doctor and–” He let himself build dreams and he could hear the castles crumbling in the distance.

“Jason?” Dick’s voice was quiet, and barely audible. Dragging Jason back to the present.

They were sitting on the steps next to the Alma Mater. Their tour group was farther off, but not close enough to where they could hear them, and Donna was gone.

Jay wiped his cheeks, frowning, “Where’d Donna…” He trailed off when he saw the look on Dick’s face. When he realized the words he’d let slip out. 

“She, uh, she went to go get your crutches.” Dick swallowed, “Jason–” His voice cracked, and his eyes turned glossy. He opened one arm for a hug

Jay’s eyes began to burn again, as he dove into Dick’s embrace, “Please don’t cry.” he mumbled into his shirt.

“I’m not gonna– it’s just allergy season.” though, he could hear how fast Dick’s heart was beating. How short his breaths were. 

“I–” it was just three words. Why could he never bring himself to say it? “My mom… she had cancer.” 

Dick’s heart changed pace, but his voice was even when he next spoke, “I didn’t know that. What type did she have?” 

“Wanky janky bones.”

He felt Dick nod his head slowly.

That was supposed to make him laugh, why wasn’t he laughing?

“Are you sure?”

How much he wished he could say ‘no, I’m not sure, actually, I could just be overthinking’

Jay assumed Dick took his silence as a yes, because he held onto him tighter.

Dick pulled away, to look Jay in the eyes, incredulity clear on his face, “Bruce hasn’t noticed yet, has he? There’s two of them in the manor, how–how’d you get away with– did you not get an x-ray of your knee when you dislocated it? Fuck, you broke it– Is it the same one that’s been bothering you since the musical?”

“...yeah.” Jay undid the velcro to his knee brace and then tightened it. “Uh, I think Bruce forgot about that.”

“Bruce? Forget? We are talking about the same man, right?”

“Yeah…” To be fair, older Jason’s dissociation face was one of the most uncanny valley things Jay’s seen in his life.  “To be fair, I am a master at distraction.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, “Is there a reason you’re not telling Bruce?”

“Well, I…” rip, stick, rip, stick. “I dunno. At first I was makin’ sure everything would be in place so that it wouldn’t be like I was… pullin’ the rug out from under Bruce’s feet.”

Dick looked like the puzzle pieces were falling into place. “So… things will be smoother when you start… chemotherapy.”

Jason nodded and started picking at a hangnail, “And once I got everything in place…I just, I could never find the right time to tell Bruce.” Jay chewed the inside of his cheek, “I was close to tellin’ him last week. Back when we were visitin’ all the kids at Gotham General. And he was talkin’ to one of the dad’s and I don’t think there’s gonna be a way for me to tell Bruce without completely throwing him off kilter because he said– Bruce said, ‘I don’t know what I would do if I found out if one of my sons were sick.’ How am I supposed to tell him now?” He leaned into Dick’s shoulder, “I want to tell him. I need to tell him, but–”

“Jason. There’s no ‘buts’ here.” His voice was soft but firm, “Tomorrow, we’ll go back to Gotham together. We’ll sit Bruce down, and if you can’t bring yourself to tell him, I will. Ok?”

Jay nodded. Throat closing up with another whimper he refused to let out. 

Dick moved his arm so he was holding Jay more comfortably, and rested his chin on Jason’s head, “Te iubesc.”

I love you.

“Dick…” His eyes burned as he lost any semblance of composure he had gained. As more hot tears rolled down his cheeks. As he buried his face in Dick’s shirt. “I’m so scared.”

“Atunci te voi proteja, aripa mea mică. Mereu.”

Then I’ll protect you, my little wing. Always.

Dick called Donna  to ask her to bring the car closer to the Low Memorial Library. They didn’t finish the tour, nor did Jason get to meet with an academic advisor for the pre-med track, they ended up going back to Titans Tower earlier than they had planned

Dick got out of the car and went to help Jay, but he brushed him off, “I’m tired, not helpless.”

Dick opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but stopped himself before he could

This week couldn’t have just been normal like he planned it to be? Why couldn’t his bones just… be normal, and grow how they were supposed to? Why…

Why couldn’t he just have a normal life? 

The doors to the elevator opened and suddenly confetti was littering the air, and the first thing his eyes caught sight of was a banner that said “Happy Retirement!”

He could feel the twin cringes from both Donna and Dick. And, since he was an actor he had to play the part. He turned around with his hand covering his mouth, “You guys… you didn’t have to do this for me.”

But, maybe Dick and Donna were way too visibly anguished to the rest of the Titans, to just brush it off, because they had various levels of confusion and concern written on their faces.

Kori was the first to speak up, “What’s wrong?”

Neither Dick nor Donna answered her question, and Jay shrugged and started crutching towards the couch, “Ooh! Cake.”

Almost immediately after he sat down, Lian came running towards him, and pounced, “Happy we-tiwerd-mend!”

Except, she had jumped right onto his knee. Causing numbness to buzz the area before crackling white hot pain took over. And his stupid dry eyes decided they were going to tear up, again.

Suddenly, Roy was squatting in front of him, like he was a little kid, which he wasn’t. He wasn’t. “Are you ok, Jace?”

“Yeah.” He angrily scrubbed at his eyes. He’s been through worse pain, why was he acting like such a baby now.  “Tibias are so futile.”

Roy looked confused, but still nodded.

He glanced at older Jason, and– “For fucks sake, half of you already know.” He buried his face in his hands. “One of you guys can share with the class.” 

There was a beat of silence before Gar cleared his throat, “Jason, um… Jason has cancer.”

Everyone was frozen in place. Except for Lian, who tugged his sleeve, “What’s cancer?”

Jay gave her a little smile, “It just means I’m sick.”

“Does your tummy hurd? My tummy hurds when I’m sick.”

Jay let out a little chuckle, “Nah, my tummy doesn’t hurt. But I’m a lot more… tired than I used to be.”

“You do look weally tiward.” 

“Thanks, Lian. Now that that’s settled, can we have cake?”

No one answered, except for Lian, “I wan cake too!”

He scooted around Roy so he could reach the coffee table and cut a slice for himself and Lian. And sometime while he had moved to cut the cake, everyone had unfrozen and started to move, but he was ignoring them. He was going to enjoy his cake and ignore the pity. He doesn’t need pity. 

They were currently back in the guest room where Dick was passive aggressively packing his things, “Why did I think this universe would be any different? This whole time–”

“Oi! You say that like he’s already dead.”

“Positive vibes, my ass.” 

“Well, forgive me for trying not to lose my mind while watching different versions of myself die in every single universe we go–”

The door opened, then closed, and there stood younger Dick, “Excuse me, what?” Then he shook his head, “You know what, I– that’s not what I wanted to talk to you guys about, and I’m going to assume that was a hyperbole, and please don’t tell me because I will not be able to focus on what I wanted to talk with you guys about.” He took in a deep breath, “How, in a house filled with detectives, did no one figure out that my brother was sick?”

And that was Dick’s ‘I’m about to beat the shit out of someone’ voice. Jason was going to get the biggest ass beating of his life by Dick– by both Dicks. 

Older Dick sat down on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his hair, “In hindsight it was so obvious, and I thought something was up a month ago, but I thought he was just depressed. I checked in with him and– I knew something was wrong, I just didn’t think it would be…”

Younger Dick’s eyes flickered towards him and then he frowned, “But you knew.” 

He was going to die again, this time by his brother's hand. God, he always thought he was Cain. “I did try to get Jason to tell Bruce himself. And when it was clear he wasn’t going to do it, I tried to tell Bruce and Alfred myself. It's just… It was like there was always something stopping me from doing so. Either Bruce would cut me off with matters he thought was more important, or something would come up and he’d have to leave.”

“Why–” Younger Dick’s phone began to ring, eyes narrowing when he saw the caller ID, and then cut the call. “It was Bruce. Why–” The phone started to ring again, and Dick hung up again. Then it rang a third time. 

“For fucks sake,” Older Dick answered the call, and motioned for him to answer.

Younger Dick put the phone up to his ear and then frowned, “You’re not my Bruce.” a pause, “Yeah, they’re both here with me right now.” The amount of guilt laced in Dick’s expression could probably fill up an entire swimming pool, “Yeah, he probably didn’t pick up because he’s taking a nap.” Dick handed the phone over to Jason.

He frowned and glanced at Older Dick. Why would Bruce want to just talk to him? “What’s up, Old Man?”

“Nothing really. I just wanted to check in with you. Are you… are you doing alright?”

“...Yeah? Why wouldn’t I–” And then it hit him, “Oh. I forgot it was the 27th.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He saw the Dicks sign something back and forth between each other– Older Dick explaining what’s up with the 27th. Minus the death part.

“I suppose that’s most likely because it’s not even April in our universe.”

“Yeah. Probably.” Jason paused, “Are… you doing ok?”

“Of course.”

“...ok… I’m gonna give the phone to Dick– Like, our Di- Richard.” he handed the phone over to him.

Younger Dick made eye contact with him and signed, Clearly a retirement party, today of all days, was just a bad idea all around.

Jason shrugged, You didn’t know.

I should have.

Stop with the guilt. Doesn’t create solutions. 

“--Ok, Bruce, I’ll– yeah. Can you give the phone to other Bruce? Dick needs to talk to him.” Younger Dick made a deer in headlight look and Older Dick signed, Tell your B-R-U-C-E that you’re coming. Give him a heads up.

Younger Dick flipped him off and took the phone, pausing for a minute. “Hey Bruce.” his mouth was pressed into a tight line, “We… had to leave earlier than we planned.” Dick’s knee started to bounce, as he looked down to his shoes, “No. There wasn’t any attack or anything. Have you… have you noticed anything about Jason recently?” Dick’s eyes turned glossy, as his face scrunched up, and he looked up at the ceiling.“No– well, Bruce he’s–” Dick sniffled, while older Dick went to put a hand on his shoulder, “Bruce, he–” a tear escaped from his eyes, and he buried his face in his hands, “This… this isn’t really a conversation to have over the phone. I know you’re probably thinking of the–” Dick paused, “No. It’s urgent, but not that urgent. We’re leaving tomorrow anyway.” He let out a shaky breath, “Yeah, I’m coming back to Gotham. For Jason. He wants to tell you. So when he tells you, can you just listen to him? Please?” a watery smile appeared on his face, “Yeah, I’m ok. I’m ok. I didn’t think I would– ugh.” He wiped his eyes, “This is embarrassing.” His eyes began to water again, “I-I love you too. Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Dick hung up and rubbed his eyes pretty aggressively, “Fuck.”

(Author here, I was debating whether or not to include this scene, but yk what, I will)

ABBA.

Jason shouldn’t have expected anything else from Younger Dick. Or any Dick for that matter

It was the next day, and the four of them were currently in the car, with the Dicks in the front, (Dick was driving) and the Jasons in the back. (Jason had lost the battle for the passenger seat.)

Jason glanced at Older Dick who was tapping the steering wheel while humming.

“And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end; Masters of the scene; We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more.”

And then he turned back to Jay and Dick who were both fully into the song, pointing at him with a huge grin on his face, “You know what I mean”

Honestly, it was really fun if he ignored the impending doom of death lurking in the corner.

He grinned, and sang along “Voulez-vous (aha)”

Maybe the sooner they left the reality, the better chance it gave Jay of beating cancer. 

“Voulez-vous (aha)...”

Incongruities must be purged. Jesus, that voice was getting too loud. Where’s his mind-muffler?

The song ended, and– “Is this real? Is this a fanta–” Then is skipped to the next song. 

By Richard, and his little driver’s seat skip button.

“NO GO BACK!!” 

No one skips Queen. He was glad Jay was on the same page as him.

Older Dick glanced over, “Dick, I’m begging you, please don’t. Please. If I have to listen to Jason belt Bohemi–”

Jay looked at Older Dick, through the rearview mirror with hurt laced in his expression, “Are you saying you don’t like my voice?”

“No! Not yours–”

“But… we’re the same person.”

“Bud… you’ve barely hit puberty.”

Jay’s jaw dropped, as Jason had to turn to the window too conceal a laugh.

Jay gave younger Dick’s shoulder his ‘kicked puppy’ expression (that Jason could no loner pull off) and Dick changed the song back. 

“NO!! Wait! What about–”

“Is this real?”

Younger Dick patted his shoulder, “How bad could it possibly be?”

Jay and Jason turned to eachother,“Is this a fantasy?

Older Dick glared at him, “It’s only bad with context–”

Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality”

Jason smirked, “But Dick, Now you have more context.  Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see; I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy; Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low; Any way the wind blows doesn't really matter to me, to me.”

Older Dick knocked his head against the steering wheel.

“Mama, just killed a man; Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he's dead; Mama, life had just begun; But now I've gone and thrown it all away”

Dick looked back to him, “Holy fuck, Jaso–”

“Mama, ooh, didn't mean to make you cry; If I'm not back again this time tomorrow; Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters.

“Too late, my time has come; Sends shivers down my spine, body's aching all the time; Goodbye, everybody, I've got to go; Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.”

Jay grabbed his arm,“Mama, ooh;I don't wanna– dude… get a therapist.”

Younger Dick looked between Older Dick and Jay, “Am I missing something?”

Jason shrugged, “I see a little silhouetto of a man; Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?”

Jay… was going to throw up. He was going to puke. Yeah, the car ride was a great distraction, but as soon as the Gotham air hit, it was like a tsunami of anxiety decided to wash him clean.

Alfred met them in the garage, where Dick (his brother) immediately wrapped him in a hug, “Master Dick, it’s lovely to see you.” 

“Yeah, Alfie, you too.”

Jay tried to crutch past the two, but Alfred obviously noticed, “Ah, Master Jason. Master Bruce wishes to speak with you in the library.”

He was going to scream. He was going to scream. He was going to scream. “Oh. Not the study?’

“He specifically requested the library.”

A place where he would be comfortable. Does Bruce know something was up? “Ok.” He glanced at Dick, who gave him a pressed smile and followed him to the library.

And there Bruce was waiting on the couch. With his look of concern slightly masked, “Hello boys.” he was sitting on the corner of the couch, so that Jay could sit closer or farther from him if need be.

Jay sat right next to him, “Hey, Bruce. How was your week with Bruce?” A decent amount of the poetry books they usually read out of were stacked on the coffee table, along with a pot of tea, and some cups. So Bruce knew something was wrong.

He felt the couch dip on the other side of him, and knew Dick sat down.

Bruce moved his arm so that it was behind Jay, resting on the back of the couch, “I suddenly understand why the both of you dislike it when I only communicate like a caveman.” A joke. To lighten up the mood. Bruce barely ever cracks jokes. He cleared his throat when it was obvious the joke didn’t really land, “I couldn’t imagine what losing you would–” Bruce cut himself off. 

Jay looked back at Dick who was making his ‘Wrong step!’ face. 

So… had Dick already told him– no. 

Bruce would’ve had him go straight to Leslie’s clinic. He reached for one of the poetry books on the table. One from “Goblin Market and Other Poems” By Christina Rossetti. Jay leaned his head against Bruce’s chest, and flipped to one of the pages marked with a post it note.

He smirked up at Bruce, “My secret I tell my secret? No indeed, not I: Perhaps some day, who knows? But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows, And you're too curious: fie!You want to hear it? Well: Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.”

“Jason, you have to tell him.”

“Richard, it’s what’s written on the page.” Jay cleared his throat and looked back down at the book “Or, after all, perhaps there's none: Suppose there is no secret after all, But only just my fun. To-day's a nipping day, a biting day; In which one wants a shawl, A veil, a cloak, and other wraps: I cannot ope to every one who taps, And let the draughts come whistling through my hall; Come bounding and surrounding me, Come buffeting, astounding me, Nipping and clipping through my wraps and all. I wear my mask for warmth: who ever shows, His nose to Russian snows, To be pecked at by every wind that blows? You would not peck? I thank you for good will, Believe, but leave that truth untested still.

“Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust; March with its peck of dust, Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, Nor even May, whose flowers; One frost may wither through the sunless hours.

“Perhaps some languid summer day, When drowsy birds sing less and less, And golden fruit is ripening to excess, If there's not too much sun nor too much cloud, And the warm wind is neither still nor loud, Perhaps my secret I may say, Or you may guess.” Jay looked up at Buce. “Does the self proclaimed world’s greatest detective have a guess?”

Bruce hummed, deep and rumbly to the point where Jay could feel the vibrations, “You’ve decided you want Tim to be the next Robin… because you’ve been tired recently?”

Jay nodded. He could hear Bruce’s heartbeat. Even and strong. His, on the other hand, was racing like a rabbit. 

He flipped the pages to the poem Mirage, “The hope I dreamed of was a dream, ⁠⁠Was but a dream; and now I wake; Exceeding comfortless, and worn, and old, ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.

I hang my harp upon a tree, ⁠⁠A weeping willow in a lake; I hang my silenced harp there, wrung and snapt, ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; ⁠⁠My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed; ⁠⁠For a dream's sake.”

He felt Bruce’s heart do a weird ker-sloosh before evening out again, “Jay… Lad, you don’t have to tell me right now, or at all, if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready to.”

“No. I have to tell you. Cus it’s been at least a month and–”

“At least a month?” Oh, that was his Batman growl.

Jay sat up, “I dunno, I was tryin’ to ignore it, but…”

Dick covered his face with his hands, “Holy… wrong conclusion, Batman.Also, this is a Bruce issue. There’s no one to punch, ok?” He crossed his arms over his chest and sank down into the couch, looking Jay in the eye, then to Bruce, then at Jay’s knee.

He continued flipping through the book, “I’ve been, uh, I’ve been thinkin’ about my mom recently. Kinda because I didn’t realize how many of her mannerisms I have until seein’ ‘em in other Jason. And he’s hers in the ways that count, but he wasn’t even born of her womb.” He cringed at that phrasing, “Not like I was.” He looked up from the page he landed on, tracing the design of the rug with his foot, “Remember when I got that first really bad fever? And then another one and then another one? I– I didn’t want to– I–” He cut himself off as his throat began to close up. 

He already cried in front of Dick, which was bad enough. He had to be strong about this. For Bruce. 

He looked back at the page, “I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone; Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears; Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief; No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf:O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf, My harvest dwindled to a husk: Truly my life is void and brief; And tedious in the barren dusk; My life is like a frozen thing, No bud nor greenness can I see: Yet rise it shall—the sap of Spring;” He took in a deep breath, “Gar basically confirmed it when I saw him, but I kinda knew before.” 

Three words. 

He could say them.

Dick grabbed his hand.

 I…” He felt his lips start to pull down, so he bit the side of his cheek, and looked Bruce in the eyes. And he knew that look. Bruce had put it together, but was just waiting for him to actually say it. To confirm. 

And–

His eyes started to burn, “Dad.”

His vision was too blurry to actually see Bruce’s reaction, but he felt his arms engulf him. He heard his heart against his ear. He felt his hand smooth out the curls on the nape of his neck.

“We’ll figure this out, Jason. I promise.” Bruce murmured, “I promise.”

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR rambles PT

PART. 3 BABY OF BEING CRINGY ABOUT MY OWN AU

LET'S GOOOOOO (Big send of too this chapter, holy shit)

Lol so like: One thing I didn't wanna do was suppress how much Zelda meant to Shadow Link's character arc for the sake of Vidow "Working".

Shadow Link does love Zelda FYI our mans is Bi. Idk if you noticed...but this whole comic is just polycule central there's no shipping wars, you can ship everyone basically. X'D

Zelda was a huge role in Shadow Link's character development to being a good boy, so it's only natural he's attached to her. (This will also be shown in the next chapter...Hehe)

Also the way his emotions around Vio are so charged that the best way he can put it to words is Vio is "Really cool" is like, so dumbly sweet. Bro can't properly even word how much he adores this man.

Shadow Link has made it no secret he wants to be buds with Vio for reals this time, and he's also 100% not interested in helping Gannon. So...There really ISN'T a reason Vio and him should have the same issues Vio was worried about. Thus, he tries to sooth Vio's fears.

*cough cough cough* gay. Shadow Link's so anxious about asking.

Lol so I got a "Writing rule" for Vio...He ain't gonna cry till I crack him completely like an egg. X'D He will get very close tho: Like this moment.

The way I put blush on the nose area specifically indicates someone's like, close to crying or is crying. I just like this face particularly because there's so much shit going on in that head of his.

The start of the hug is so damn awkward (Intentionally so)

These panels mean so much to meeeeeeee-

Everything about em

The hug, Vio's so close his face is squished (He's so adorable.)

Shadow Link doesn't immediately hug him back he's stunned.

Hehehehe. Vidow go brrrrr..

This entire page is just: PAIN.

Shadow breaks the hug to show him the book.

The wording leaves it so ya can't help but think he hoped the introducing of their friendship would change Vio's mind about being Link again...That his words earlier were just mad ramblings and not how he actually felt. But with a clear head Vio verbally says he still wants to be Link again.

Lmao bro tries not to crack again aaaaand fails.

The book is one about healing magic...What kinds are in there I wonder. ;) A refrence...to a past Selda game mayhaps?~

Also this frame of Shadow Link full blown ugly crying while pretending to be fine is so hilarious to me idk if it comes off as sad or funny but it's kinda both to me. X'D

Mans is crying for him and Vio at this point.

Vio putting the book down in favor of comforting Shadow Link is just kinda one of those things that like, if he had ignored Shadow Link the reader would have noticed, but him being like, decent is smth that isn't nearly as "noticeable" (Like, ya typically notice a character being shitty WAY MORE than you notice all the subtle things they do that are just, kind.)

Also Shadow still wants to be helpful even though he's like, sobbing his eyes out. X'D

He also tries to hide from Vio lmao. Vio saw the water works bro.

Quite a few things:

Shadow's still toxic, just a little. X'D He WANTS Vio around, he misses him like crazy and does not want him to leave, AT ALL. This is very obvious lmao.

But he's also at the point where he knows he can do better than just screaming and throwing tantrums like he did as a kid. But his true feelings about how betrayed he feels Vio still wants to be Link are STILL THERE. Even if he chooses to try and hide them.

Also funny detail: Vio blushing was a lowkey gag because of the whole "They're both attracted to red flags" joke.

You could also take it as him being scared shitless, which he IS.

While he can't take back snapping at Vio, he certainly realizes his mistake very quickly and apologizes. So that's SOMETHING at least. (Considering the type of person he was before, a relapse or two is expected lmao.) I think him still having a certain level of anger management issues makes his character overall more interesting.

I like to think the only reason Vio gave him any patience for that, was because Shadow Link has been nothing but patient and there for him all night and he knows Shadow is emotional as fuck.

As Vio gave him shit for the fight with Blue earlier showed, Vio doesn't tolerate Shadow's crap when he's just being a violent shithead.

Hahaha. Remember when Link outright stated Vio wanted to be Vio and not Link. :) Link sure is a way more reliable narrator than...idk...The guy who lies...

*Whispers gently into your ear* Vio's not being very truthful here...

Notice: He only. ONLY brings up "Logical" reason...not his actual FEELINGS on the matter... He SAYS "I don't want to be Vio"

WHY. WHY!? TELL US WHY VIO!!!

He does have a reason but he's not tellin' lmao.

So, in the book it's not really...SPECIFIED where Shadow Link came from? Like I think all it says is "Gannon drew him out of the dark mirror"

...THAT IS SO UP FOR INTERPRETATION AND BRINGS UP SO MANY QUESTIONS:

Did he have a life in the dark world and was just, TOLD to do Gannon's bidding? His line of "I'm your living reflection in the dark world" MAYBE supports this idea...??? KINDA?

But my issue with that is: Shadow Link gives NO indication he has had a past in the dark world, like...at all. Nothing. No mention of family (Which...Reasonably wouldn't he have a dark version of Link's father???) He's the ONLY PERSON who's implied to be FROM the dark world. Also...The dark mirror isn't REALLY implied to be a PORTAL... The seal on Vaati and his demons was, but Shadow Link wasn't freed from that, Gannon "Drew him from the dark mirror" to release Vaati...So uh...HMMMM His also distinct lack of his OWN name kinda makes me go ???? Like...His NAME is Shadow Link...Like that's not a nickname. That's his NAME. (Like this just weirds me out because of a cannon "Reflection" of Link: in Ravio. Who like...HAS HIS OWN NAME???? ik Ravio isn't from the "Dark world", he's from Lowrule, but point still stands this is odd.)

Suffice to say, there's just not enough info here to draw a conclusion for me? So I gotta make shit up. X'D Shadow Link was created out of Link's Shadow by Gannon in FSR. This is also the reason he resembles a Gerudo male. Cause Gannon said "Mm yes, my evil Link sona will have my heritage. UwU"

Shadow link realizing he almost made Vio cry is so funny to me.

Vio looks so fucking pathetic there. lmfao.

Shadow's words only hit again like Link has stated: Shadow knows Vio

Whether intentionally or not: what he says hits Vio like a ton of bolders.

He's very hesitant to keep talking though because he doesn't want to hurt Vio either.

It's like, he's AWARE he's telling Vio this shit because he WANTS him to stay, but you also can't deny Shadow's at least CORRECT in a lot of his statements. How far should he push that though? Hmm.

His "Oh my god you're an idiot" face is hilarious. Shadow's like "You still don't get what I'm laying down dude??? REALLY!?"

*Explodes*

Lmao. That panel before they kiss is basically my favorite in the entire comic rn. X'D

Shadow pulling away and squishing Vio's face is also a favorite. Vio's just cute and squishable.

Vio stating the obvious: That his mental breakdown wasn't Shadow's fault. (Wasn't really anybody's fault it was inevitable, especially with the curse/Dark Link active)

Lmao. Vio's kinda dumb as bricks sometimes too. X'D

Shadow Link's fucking deadpan stare while Vio rants is so hilarious to me. Also the direct quoting of Vio instead of paraphrasing making his statement sound even more stupid.

Also fun dialogue thing: You'll notice the characters stutter or like, pause weirdly, Because I like writing dialogue a little more realistic. Like Shadow Starts off as "I-was" instead of like "W-was" like he thought of saying smth completely different at first or his mouth moved before his brain did. X'D

Their banter is fun, Vio's his sassy self. Shadow giving him all the kisses we desired...

Okay ngl this page hurts me X'D Like. Ouch. All of it hurts.

Because of how Link kinda abandoned Shadow Link (Even though he was always there) Shadow is OBVIOUSLY very hesitant to let go. It's super obvious Vio doesn't wanna let go either.

Also Vio kissing him back surprises Shadow. X'D He's still bamboozled Vio is receptive to his affection oof... (Would like to show him getting more comfy with it as the comic goes on like "Holy shit, nah he's not playing around with me he fr-")

They mean so much to each other. QuQ

Okay to make you laugh in these very serious panels: Because Shadow's floating Vio's standing on his tip toes.

On that note, can't wait to see yall for the next chapter, whenever I get around to it. X'D

[sonicasura]

TF/M+R: Wrecker's Little Girl

A set of headcanons involving Wheeljack adopting Kanya from Mario + Rabbids from this post here. Enjoy!

Kanya

Species: Rabbid, Spark Hunter variety

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Occupation: Inventor/Wrecker

A Rabbid who literally crashed into Wheeljack's life after the events of Last Spark Hunter. He took her in and nursed her back to health. Kanya is still arrogant, manic and a bit mean but mellows into a nicer individual thanks to Wheeljack. She only shows kindness to those who she likes. Has therapy companions in the form of a dud Bob-omb named Bub and a Chain Chomp known as Nippy. (Wheeljack still doesn't know how she got em but let's them stay.)

-Daddy's little feral princess. Kanya is often spoiled by the Autobot with her own workshop, testing ground and all sorts of stuff like plushies. Even has a homemade star shaped stim toy she can bite when nervous.

- Often fights in a mech suit but her main weapon is a remote control yo-yo called the Ring O' Bomber. This item rolls around an explosive that becomes active once detached the string and has a 10 meter radius to move alongside a 10 second timer before detonating. A new bomb regrows in 10 seconds after detachment.

-Loves terrorizing calm leader types and grumps. Doesn't get much jollies with skittish people though since they're too easy to spook. TFP Ratchet is terrified of Kanya and she vows to break TFP Optimus Prime's calm persona. Ultra Magnus was a fun challenge.

-Absolutely kidnapped Breakdown from MECH just because she wants to know his beef with 'uncle Bulkhead'. He'd endured the most awkward tea party until Wheeljack had to let the Decepticon go after realizing what Kanya did. Breakdown will take that than vivisection from the MECH documents said Rabbid stole. (Prime only.)

-Don't put any fingers in Kanya's biting range. Many Cybertronians nearly lost a servo for doing so, Autobots and Decepticons. A much bigger menace to the latter since they don't learn. (G1)

Wheeljack

Species: Cybertronian, Autobot faction

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Occupation: Inventor/Demolition Expert/Wrecker

Kanya's foster father who cared for her since she crashed into his life. A fun loving inventor that tries to steer his Rabbid daughter to use her chaotic skills for something better than world domination. (He managed to get her to become neutral!) Be careful when visiting his workshop though. Wheeljack's inventions still have a tendency to explode! Even moreso with his daughter now around.

-Likes to spoil Kanya whenever he can. The Autobot figures some positive reinforcement will help with her mental issues. Especially after hearing about the Rabbid's origins. It works since she didn't bite him on the second week of recovery.

- Need to explain an invention or plan? Wheeljack usually lets Kanya go over it with the group and adds commentary when needed. It makes her happy so why not?

-Spray bottle. He always carry one as Kanya has a habit of 'overloading'. A nice spritz snaps her outta an episode and he can care for her accordingly. Only Wheeljack is allowed to handle Kanya during this period. He has made it an established rule for everyone's safety.

-'Get out of jail free card.' There have been MANY times he had to rescue someone solicited to his daughter's "tea parties". Autobots, Decepticons, etc. He casually warned Team Prime about it. They didn't believe him until Wheeljack gave footage of Breakdown's party. (Prime)

-Only person who can pick up Kanya without getting bitten. He always gives someone warning to watch their servos around his Rabbid daughter. Do they listen? NO. Wheeljack just pats a smug Kanya on the head afterwards. (G1)

That's it for now! Until next time folks, transform and roll out!

[jacensolodjo]

I would argue that while House isn't on the spectrum (stop trying to explain away asshole behavior with 'idk... aspie??'), he likely has PTSD. he shows a lot of symptoms but they are overshadowed by his personality. a personality that likely is a coping mechanism in and of itself. Every attempt to lower someone's fever probably makes him flinch inside. Because the answer is ice. A fuck ton of ice. A fuck ton of COLD. And he will always remember the COLD. His leg will always remember the COLD in a NEW WAY. Exercise care is ice packs. Getting a bruise is ice packs. Muscle damage is ice packs. It's ice. It's cold.

Meanwhile Zack Addy and Vincent Nigel-Murray are on the spectrum and ADHD respectively. And I told myself I wouldn't get started on the fact that they took both these boys from me in such terrible ways but you know what they did and I'm still mad about it.

You realize Zack becoming an apprentice to fucking Gormogon is the stupidest fucking shit right? And you try to blame it on Hodgins but nobody else blames Hodgins for somehow managing to get into Zack's head about conspiracy theories. It's instead 'poor Hodgins' all over the place. What about Zack, who was for 2 whole seasons constantly trying to get support from everyone in his life especially the adult men in his life (booth and hodgins) and they both kept him at arm's length and if anything made it harder for him to socialize. What about poor Zack, who cared so fucking MUCH for Hodgins that even though he could have retreated from the experiment that literally blew up he stayed right there anyway? He just wanted everyone to be PROUD OF HIM. That's ALL he wanted. That's why he went to fucking Iraq! And you took that type of personality and you bastardized it. And then you locked him away with barely anyone thinking about him in their day-to-day. With nobody even TRYING to see if he actually did what he claims he 'would have' done. Not until he lets it slip that he didn't actually do the things he was accused of.

Then I got Mr. Nigel-Murray. My dude who is so awkward around people the only way he gets over it is by spouting off random ass facts that manage to pertain to things in the most ADHD way possible. And you have him SHOT. Because he was trying to be helpful. Because he made a mistake in being helpful. And he died terrified everyone actually secretly hated him and would be glad he was gone. Because nobody learned from Zack to just fucking tell these kids what they mean to you!! He was awkward, he made mistakes, he tried to fix them. And still "please don't make me go".

[avatar-anna]

Please, could you write a angst in which a reader ends up hearing Harry's friends infuence him to cheat on y/n with some model? But in the end the relationship is fine again :)

i miss the professor!yn x harry, so that's what we’re doing!

The Professor Series

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were reeling, never a good thing for you. When you freaked out, you spiraled deep into your thoughts, and it was often hard to pull you out once you couldn’t stop thinking.

Shaking hands, eyes brimming with tears, a numb sort of feeling. You needed something familiar to comfort you. You needed your favorite novels and text books, you needed Faye and the Emperor. You needed Harry.

But Harry wasn’t an option right now. He was off laughing with his friends, listening to them as they told him about all the models he could’ve been dating.

“She’s not good for your image, H. You’d be better off dating someone more suited to your lifestyle,” one of the half-wits told Harry. It was one of his managers. He actually said that.

“I’m in a relationship, Steve,” you heard Harry say.

“We can work that angle. Cheating scandal, love triangle, or even—”

You left before you could hear the rest.

They didn’t know you’d overheard them, of course they didn’t, but you had, and the way no one said a single thing to defend you.

You knew that you were awkward, a little antisocial, hard to talk to, and not like anyone Harry had dated previously, but you didn’t think Harry’s managers—and some of his closest friends—felt so strongly about his relationship with you. Or rather, felt so strongly about you.

Before you could hear anymore, you quietly left the kitchen where they were all gathered around. Harry wanted to have a small dinner party in London, and you’d actually been excited to get to know everyone better, but now you just felt stupid, a very unfamiliar feeling. Harry was one of the few people who understood you, who liked you. Sure your students did, but that was different. Harry was one of the first people who actually tried to understand you and didn’t try to change who you were, but that didn’t mean his friends would be the same.

Walking up the stairs as fast as you could, you locked yourself in Harry’s room, going straight for his bookshelf. He kept some for you whenever you left Cambridge to see him, and while the collection wasn’t extensive, it would work for now.

The cats were there too, but they were sleeping soundly on Harry’s bed, and you didn’t want to wake them. The Emperor could be especially cranky if he was woken up from a nap.

But despite your best efforts, nothing worked. You were restless, needing to read more and more so you could fill your mind. You couldn’t forget what was said about you, your brain literally wouldn’t let you, but you could overwhelm it.

You moved on from reading books to reading the backs of records, labels on shampoo bottles, crumpled up receipts, a stray newspaper, the warning on a bottle of moisturizer.

None of it worked, the words of that manager playing in your head over and over again. It made your heart race and tears spill down your cheeks.

She’s not good for your image, H. You’d be better off dating someone more suited to your lifestyle.

And then he actually suggested Harry cheat on you!

They were right, of course. If you looked at it objectively, nothing that person said was incorrect. Statistically, Harry probably would be better off dating someone that was more like him.

“Phone. I should use my phone,” you muttered, pulling the device out of your pants pocket and quickly unlocking it.

The Internet was like your personal ADHD medication. Your eyes were glued to the screen as your thumb scrolled and typed periodically. Names, dates, and statistics flooded your senses, and your brain soaked up every letter and number like a sponge, swelling and swelling until it was completely saturated.

Overwhelming yourself with information was the goal, but now that you’d done it, you hated the feeling.

You kind of just sat there, surrounded by the mess you’d made of Harry’s room. Your brain was short circuiting now, eyes staring blankly at Harry’s dresser, framed pictures nearly sat on top of it.

“Oh love.”

You heard Harry, but focusing was now difficult. You stayed put in the middle of the room, vaguely aware of Harry picking his way through the mess towards you. When he tried to pull you into his lap, though, you shook your head and inched away from him.

“No? Okay, I understand,” he said. “I have a feeling you heard certain...things that were said tonight, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Steve had absolutely no right to—”

“He was right, though,” you said, sniffling. “I—I did some math, and st—statistically you would have more—”

“Y/n, my love,” Harry said, gentle yet stern enough to make you look at him. “Did you ever stop to consider that maybe I don’t want to be with anyone else? What do your statistics say about that?”

The question immediately had you thinking. “Well, it would be tricky because I would have to quantify your affection, then—”

“That was meant to be a rhetorical question,” he interrupted, a small smile on his face. “I love you. I want to be with you. And I don’t need to date someone to be popular or increase sales or whatever the hell that guy was talking about. You know that I love you, darling. Why did you doubt that?”

Hearing him sound hurt by how quickly you were willing to believe the words of someone you didn’t know made you more upset. You never meant to hurt Harry’s feelings, and it wasn’t really about you doubting him, either.

“I don’t, b—but...”

“What is it, my love? You can tell me anything.”

“Do your friends really think of me that way?”

Because that was what hurt the most. Deep down, you knew that Harry was happy with you, that things between you were good, better than good, even. He’d had fake relationships in the past, as you very well knew, but he reassured you that those days were over.

But you’d never really interacted with Harry’s managers before. You didn’t know how they felt about their client being in an actual, committed relationship, and with someone who wasn’t as famous as him. This was the first time you’d properly met these people. They were nice to you when you were introduced, but obviously that was all a lie.

“Can I hold you now?” Harry asked. He didn’t always have to ask, but sometimes when you were upset or overwhelmed or both you preferred no contact.

Nodding, you said, “Yes. That would be fine.”

Harry immediately had his hands around your hips so he could pull you into his lap. Despite not wanting him to touch you before, you immediately relaxed against him.

He didn’t try to kiss you, or do anything but hold you, really, which was exactly what you needed.

It occurred to you then that perhaps what you needed wasn’t what Harry needed. A lot of times, he was the one caressing you, holding you, comforting you. If you thought about it, what that manager said would’ve hurt his feelings too, and all you could think about was yourself. How could you be so selfish?

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, twisting the rings on his fingers around.

“For what, darling? You haven’t done anything.”

“That’s my point,” you said. “The words that that manager said. They were hurtful to you too, and I haven’t even asked how you were feeling.”

“You’re not selfish, despite what you might be thinking,” Harry said. He leaned forward so he could look at you, eyebrows raised. “That’s what you were thinking, right?”

You nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“You are the most selfless person I know, Y/n. Being upset or getting caught up in your own feelings doesn’t change that.

“And to answer all your questions and ease your doubts,” he continued when you said nothing in reply. “Those people are not my friends. If they don’t respect our relationship, if they don’t respect you, then they can’t work for me, and I made that very clear tonight.”

“You did?” you asked. You’d left before you heard what Harry said, too afraid to hear any more from the other managers. You didn’t need more of their words burned in your brain forever.

“Yes, my love. Might’ve thrown a punch or two as well.”

“You what?”

The hand you were playing with didn’t seem cut up or bruised, nor did his face show any evidence of retaliation. But you knew Harry could throw a punch with both hands, so you immediately picked up the other one, and sure enough, there were cuts on his knuckles.

You stood up and immediately went into the bathroom to find things to clean him up. It wasn’t a lot, but you hated violence of any kind, and he knew that.

“Why would you do that?”

“You came up here and flooded your brain with information until your head was spinning, I got angry and threw a punch. We react differently to things that hurt us.”

You were still rummaging through cabinets and drawers, looking for something to clean the cuts with. But when Harry answered, he sounded much closer.

Looking up, you saw that he was leaning against the door that connected his bedroom to the bathroom, watching you go through his things.

“You’re not a violent person, Harry.”

And he wasn’t. He rarely got angry, but even when he did, he never physically hurt anyone before. You were technically a genius, but you didn’t have to be one to know that what you heard probably wasn’t the worst thing out of everything said, which was probably what set your boyfriend off.

He remained quiet as you set everything you needed on the bathroom counter. There was some hissing and wincing when you dabbed his cuts with cleanser, but other than that, he was silent, letting you focus on your work.

You weren’t condoning what he did, but having a task to focus on was helpful at the moment. The numbness washed away the longer you dabbed antiseptic onto his knuckles and gently wrapped them up. Your mind now had a singular thing to latch onto and focus on, and for that you were grateful.

“He could press charges, you know,” you said quietly, not stopping to look up at him.

“I know ,” Harry sighed. “You wouldn’t happen to have a law degree under all those PhDs, would you?”

“This isn’t funny,” you said, but when you met his eyes, it was hard to fight your smile. “And maybe."

“Maybe?”

You shrugged. “You just have to pass the bar.”

“‘Just have to pass the bar,’ she says,” Harry said playfully. “You never cease to amaze me.”

Your smile grew. “You’re quite remarkable too, you know.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Harry helped you clean up the bathroom, and his bedroom once you went back into it. Looking at it now, you cringed at the mess you made and quietly apologized to Harry.

He didn’t mind, just started putting everything away. Faye Winter and the Emperor we're now awake and watched from their spot on Harry’s bed, their big eyes blinking slowly as you put everything away.

The longer you and Harry put everything back in its place, the more you were able to calm down, feel less crazy. You were tired all of a sudden, and as Harry slipped out of the clothes he’d picked out for tonight, you went up to him.

“I love you,” you said, pecking his chest softly.

Harry took your face in his hands, the ever-familiar look of fondness on his face. “I love you too. Nothing will ever change that. You know that, don’t you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he spoke again before you got the chance.

“And no statistics or probabilities. No more math in our relationship.”

It was a hard thing to accept when you had proof that no one could be as certain as Harry claimed to be, but you supposed that was a part of life. You loved Harry right now, and you wanted to love Harry for as long as you were able, and you knew he felt the same.

“Okay,” you said. “And those managers?”

“They no longer work for me.”

You thought that was the end of that, it sure felt that way. Harry got into bed while you changed into your pajamas, which was really just the Cambridge University t-shirt you bought for Harry a while back.

He was reading a book while petting Faye Winter, who made herself comfortable on his stomach, as you slid into bed next to him. You still kept up the tradition of sharing books, but now you got to watch Harry as he read. It was something so simple, but you loved it. He just looked so cute with his reading glasses and what you dubbed his “concentration face.”

Time passed, and eventually Harry put his book away, ready to go to sleep. He usually started out on his side of the bed, but somehow in the middle of the night he ended up on top of you, or with one of the cats nestled comfortably in his hair. That was one of the sweetest things you’d ever seen, and the memory now lives forever on your phone’s lock screen.

“I never want anyone to make you feel like you don’t belong here with me, or that your intelligence is a bad thing. It’s a gift, Y/n, and no one should make you feel like it’s not, okay?”

It was kind of out of the blue now that you’d sort of moved on, but you could tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he needed to say it, needed you to hear it. He was one of the only people who knew how poorly you were treated in the past, so he knew how much hearing that would mean to you.

“Okay,” you said. You kissed him then, your fingers lightly dancing over the planes of his face. You needed him, but you knew he needed you too. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Of course. Loving you’s the easiest job in the world, and I never want you to feel like I, or the people around me don’t love and respect you.”

Harry fell asleep on your chest that night. What happened earlier clearly affected both of you, and under the cover of night, Harry felt truly vulnerable. He liked to be strong and protect you because you did have a delicate heart. But he was a gentle soul too, and sometimes he just needed to be held.

Finding the words to express how you felt about Harry wasn’t always easy for you. You weren’t as expressive with words as he was. So you showed him through actions and touches, like holding him and massaging his scalp as you ran your fingers through his hair.

You decided that that manager had no idea what he was talking about. There was no one more suited for each other like you and Harry, and anyone who couldn’t see that was either blind or an idiot. And that was a fact.

[offbrandhange]

Wedding Day ! | 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖘

Fluff & NSFW headcanons on your wedding day/night with some of the AOT boys!

! Slight NSFW !

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of sex, pregnancy. Fem ! reader.

Majority of this is fluff, but there are mentions of !BEEP! sooo yeah.

Characters: Armin, Eren, Erwin, Jean, Levi

a/n: I have to take my SAT tomorrow, please wish your girl good luck for those sweet, sweet good grades....

𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓 𝕬𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙 ~

Helps you plan the wedding and possibly loves it even more than you do. He’s a sucker for quality time. 

Armin would prefer a small or medium-sized wedding. If you want a large wedding though, there’s no way he’s holding you back from having it. 

100% a beach wedding. No doubt.

The venue is BEAUTIFUL. Spent countless nights researching and visiting places to make sure you got the best.

Eren is chosen as the best man, although Armin feels guilty for having to pick only one out of all his friends.

On the day of the wedding, Armin is a panicking mess. Eren and Jean literally have to give him a pep talk before he goes to stand at the alter.

Practiced deep breathing techniques before the wedding. Unfortunately, they aren’t working.

When you finally walk down the isle, Armin starts crying softly. Eren put his hand on his shoulder to comfort him......which just made him sob harder. He cried multiple times during the wedding.

Your wedding rings are the set his grandfather and grandmother shared :’)

Specifically told the bartender not to serve Connie and Sasha more than 3 drinks. He doesn’t trust them making their own alcohol-related decisions at his wedding.

Armin isn’t a dancer but....he practiced how to slow dance just for you.

Shy at first when it comes to the more fast-paced dancing, but Jean coaxes him into it, and he ends up having a lot of fun.

The speeches are so nice!!! But mostly because Armin asked Mikasa to read them over before hand to make sure they were okay.

After the wedding ends and everyone has left, you and Armin sit and watch the waves at night.

NSFW below !

The beach was reserved...meaning it is now completely deserted. I am now politely reminding you, Armin is not a saint. Honeymoon sex on the beach, anybody?

The sex is slow and sweet; he takes his time with you and kisses you all over. It’s 100% the definition of, “making love.”

If you’re down for a kid right now, Armin’s down for a kid right now. He WILL try for a baby with you if it’s what you want.

After you made a mess of yourselves in the sand...Armin would probably let you sleep for a little bit as he watched the waves. He doesn’t want it to end yet.

When he’s finally content, he would carry you back to the hotel, trying not to wake you.

Super considerate dusting the sand off you, and then tucking you in bed. He’s totally cuddling you to sleep, too.

𝕰𝖗𝖊𝖓 𝕵𝖆𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖗 ~

Pretty much gives you full control of the wedding planning; he only has a few requests.

Eren would be the type of dude to invite friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends. Your wedding is gonna be packed.

Has no idea what kind of wedding he prefers.

Please, god, don’t let him pick the venue. He will go to the first one, look around, and go, “Yeah, this is pretty nice.” That’s how you’ll end up getting married at an AirBNB with a nice backyard hidden behind the local Walmart.

Doesn’t know if he should make Armin or Zeke the best man, so he flips a coin to decide. It landed on Armin, and from that day on, Zeke was super salty.

Tries to convince you to try on the wedding dress/suit the day before. He can’t sleep that night because he’s so keyed up thinking about how pretty you’ll look.

On the day of the wedding, he’s super fucking ecstatic and practically bouncing all over the place.

Eren would get kind of impatient when waiting at the isle, to the point it would annoy the groomsmen. Jean came so close to saying something but was thankfully stopped by Armin.

When you finally walk down the isle, he’s BEAMING. He tears up a little bit out of happiness, but nothing too extreme.

Armin had to help him pick out the wedding rings otherwise you would’ve ended up with one of those plastic spider rings you win at Chuck e. Cheese’s.

Eren gets so fucking drunk you’re worried you might have to carry him back to the room by the end of the night.

Jean literally nit-picks everything Eren does the whole night....which almost ends up resulting in a drunken bar fight...at your wedding. It ends up fine, though, because Levi and Mikasa step in as bodyguards.

You SWEAR Mikasa is giving you dirty looks. Likewise, Eren SWEARS he’s getting dirty looks from Levi.

He does alright slow-dancing, but is so tipsy and distracted by how attractive you are to him, he’s kinda just....trying his best.

Absolutely OBLITERATES the dance floor when the fast-paced songs come on...

WILD assortment of speeches. Mikasa is crying, Armin’s reading a poem, Floch’s trying to get you to join his cult, Zeke is crying......and Eren is sitting there like, “Is this almost over.” You’d think it was America’s got talent, or something.

When the wedding ends, he 100% drags you to your favorite fast-food restaurant. Still in your wedding attire. Seriously, this dude is crazy, but he’s fun.

NSFW below !

When you get back to the hotel, he lets you eat your food--and then he fucks the shit out of you.

Way, way, way more rough than usual; super passionate sex. Multiple rounds, too. You don’t even KNOW how he has this much stamina by the end of the night.

Not even TRYING to get you pregnant, but his dumbass probably accidentally would.

Good luck trying to walk tomorrow!!!

When he’s finally tired, he is GONE. Like, you could scream bloody-murder and he still wouldn’t wake up.

𝕰𝖗𝖜𝖎𝖓 𝕾𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖍 ~

You can TRY and take that wedding planner from Erwin--the only way he’d give it to you is if you pried it from his cold, dead hand(s).

Tells people he’s married MONTHS before the wedding.

Everyone.....and I mean EVERYONE.....knows you’re getting married. he will walk up to strangers and brag about you.

Erwin invites everyone he sees. Elderly woman crossing the street? Invited. Barista at the coffee shop? Invited. Guy on the bus who offered him a seat? Invited.

All those people attend the wedding, too. Why? Everyone knows and loves Erwin. So when your wedding is literally PACKED with people you have never seen before--you’re only slightly surprised.

You know those reality shows where they have HUGE, expensive weddings? Your wedding would put theirs to shame. Erwin goes ALL OUT.

The venue? A literal castle. How did he manage to book and afford a castle? Don’t question it.

Your wedding dress doesn’t have a budget. Seriously, your wedding is crazy expensive--and straight out of a fairy tale.

You’re pretty sure Levi made himself the best man--and Erwin was fine with it.

Is super excited on the day of the wedding. He knows it’s going to be perfect; he got his eyebrows done just for the occasion.

When you walk down that isle his smile is SO BRIGHT. he is SHINING.

Yeah, those wedding rings? Imported from Italy, plastered with giant, real, diamonds. You will never be able to say Erwin doesn’t spoil you.

Pretty chill wedding, nothing’s too rowdy and everyone’s still having a good time.

Whispers sweet nothings and tells you how happy he is the whole night. He can’t go five minutes without saying, “I love you.”

Just TRY to get him to stop holding your hand; he won’t.

Erwin is so good at slow-dancing??? And he’s so careful with you, too. 100% the one in the lead, but he’s spinning and dipping you so sweetly. Not to mention the way he’s looking at you...

He’s a serious guy a lot of the time, but I honest to god believe in the sweetest way possible, you would genuinely have a really fun time fast-pace dancing with him. You would both be laughing at each other’s moves.

Majority of the speeches are super nice. Hange tried to get Levi to say something, brought him up to the stage and....he starred at the crowd for a couple awkward seconds, then walked off. He conveyed his message through his eyes, I guess?

The wedding is so long you weren’t sure it was ever going to end...

Hotel? Nah he booked that castle, that’s where you’re spending the night...

NSFW below !

You’re fucking in the king bed tonight baby, literally.

Pays attention to your needs/wants the WHOLE NIGHT. Seriously, he’s a soft dom, and makes sure you’re more than satisfied.

Tons of body worship?? He’s so sweet and careful with you.

Erwin secretly really, really wants to give you his babies and start a family with you on the honeymoon. If you’re willing, he will make sure he gets you pregnant; you’re getting no sleep.

After you’re done, he will run you two a bath and clean you off. He adds in a little bonus massage, too.

When you get in bed, he pets your head, cuddling you until you fall asleep. You could’ve sworn you saw him smiling before you drifted off to sleep.

𝕵𝖊𝖆𝖓 𝕶𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖎𝖓 ~

Jean would definitely help you plan the wedding--he values romance a lot, so having the perfect wedding for him and you, is important. He also doesn’t want to put all the weight on you.

Brags to his friends that he’s getting married--they all get tired of hearing about it.

Normal sized wedding--not too many, but not small, either. Lots of family and friends.

The venue is at a barn. Yes, he picked a barn. it’s a nice venue, too; the only problem is that he’s not going to be able to escape those horse jokes.

Marco is chosen as the best man--and when Connie hears about it, he sulks for a few days. He gets over it eventually, though.

He’s kind of nervous the day of--but Marco reassures him and teaches his some deep-breathing techniques.

Keeps his cool until he goes to stand at the alter--and then he’s in full-blown panic mode. “What if I can’t make her happy?” “What if she runs away with Eren?” meanwhile, Eren is standing right there with the other groomsmen, like “wtf?”

When you walk down the isle--he’s super overwhelmed. He feels a huge sense of relief you didn’t ditch him and run away, but also metaphorically hit by a semi-truck of emotions since he realized he’s ACTUALLY getting married. There’s a little bit of happy crying.

His mom picked out your wedding rings; you only find out when she brags about it--and Jean yells at her for telling you.

His wedding gift to you is a giant portrait he drew of you--and on the back, there’s a message in French. He won’t tell you what it says, but you’re pretty sure it’s an oath to love and protect you ‘till the day he dies.

He does pretty well slow-dancing. His mom also mentions he begged her to practice with him so he didn’t mess up.

He’s a little worried about making himself look like a fool dancing in front of you--but for you, he does it anyways; You both laugh your asses off and have a lot of fun.

The speeches make Jean look like he wants to drop dead from embarrassment. He’s not sure what’s worse--Connie and Sasha doing karaoke, Eren making horse jokes, or his mom telling all of his embarrassing baby stories.

After everyone leaves, Jean takes you to look at the animals before you leave, too.

NSFW below !

 As for honeymoon sex; you better not make a horse joke, otherwise you’re getting laid in that fucking barn. Maybe. He threatens that, but you know he wouldn’t want to have sex there on your wedding night. He’s 100% down for another time, though.

A mix of rough and sweet at the same time--he does the right things at the right times.

Is a lot more passionate and soft than usual--very careful with your body, and makes sure to really take everything in; He wants to remember the night for as long as he lives.

Immaculate aftercare; and on top of that, he lets you fall asleep in his arms, occasionally kissing your forehead.

Bonus: he sings you to sleep.

𝕷𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓 ~

Lets you plan the wedding, but looks it over and makes sure there’s nothing too crazy happening. He, somehow, is worried you’re going to plan a circus or something else ridiculous to show up.

No one knows you’re getting married until the envelopes are mailed to family and friends. In fact, some people didn’t even know you were together.

Pretty small wedding, it’s mostly people who are very close to you two. It has a very homey-feel.

The venue HAS to be indoors. Levi thinks an outdoor wedding is unsanitary--so you end up getting married in a banquet hall.

Erwin is 1000% the best man. You don’t even have to ask, you already know it’s going to be Erwin.

Is literally shaking and sweating his ass off he’s so nervous the day of the wedding--if anyone asks, though, he swears he is fine. Has no idea it’s completely obvious he’s on the verge of absolutely freaking out.

Erwin and Hange try to get him to relax--but he continues to deny that he is in fact, NOT calm.

When you walk down the isle and he makes eye contact with you--his brain short-circuits. His mind literally stops working and is constantly repeating, “p...p...pre....pretty..” the whole damn time.

Mentally saves the image of you in your dress/suit to use as his motivation to always come home to you.

Tries to remain expressionless, but is literally tomato-red and on the verge of crying; he never thought he’d be able to find happiness--it feels like everything is finally going to be okay. Erwin is smiling like a proud dad, and Hange is trying to suppress their amazement that the dude’s showing emotion.

Your wedding rings are fairly plain--but on the inside of the bands, both of your names are etched.

He won’t read the vows out loud, he simply hands you a letter and tells you to read it another time.

When the time comes to kiss--Levi literally hides behind you and shyly pulls you in. The view the audience gets is your back--and they aren’t sure whether to clap or not.

Your wedding gift to him was a giant assortment of different teas--and he genuinely seemed really excited to try them. He didn’t realize it, but when he mentioned tasting them, he said, “with you” at the end.

Has no idea how to slow dance. Erwin tried to help him, but it didn’t do much, so you teach him on the spot. Your first dance, he concentrates really hard on not messing up, eyebrows furrowed and all.

Doesn’t know how to dance fast-pace either, in fact, he’s pretty confused. You have to grab the man and force him out of his comfort zone, spinning him and all. Hange and the Survey Corp members are laughing their ass off at his bewildered face.

The speeches went pretty well--except for when Hange didn’t stop talking; Levi threatened to force them off the stage, and you don’t think he was joking.

The wedding was fairly short--but only because Levi rushed everyone home; he just wanted to drag you off and keep you to himself for the rest of the day.

After the wedding, he takes you to a spot nearby to watch the sunset. He has a soft smile, and you can tell he’s genuinely happy.

You take HIM back to the hotel--he would’ve been fine staying there just a little longer, in the peace of it all.

NSFW below !

You’re literally taking his virginity. He saved himself for marriage; he wanted to make sure he gave himself to the right person.

Very nervous--and kind of insecure, too. He isn’t sure what you’ll think of him, and he’s worried about you seeing his scars. He STILL isn’t completely convinced you really want him.

Lots of body worship and reassuring him; he melts at your touch.

Once he gets comfortable and into it, he repeats “I love you” a lot.

He doesn’t last very long...but keeps going until you get off, too. He’s still a little confused by everything, so you have to teach him.

He’s half asleep after cumming--but still insists the two of you need to get in the shower.

Was too tired to stand, so you took a bath together instead. He falls asleep, leaning on you, when you massage his head.

You end up being unable to wake him up--the man is dead tired from not only sleep deprivation, the long day, but also his first time.

You can’t get him out of the bathtub, either--he’s too bulky to lift. You expected him to be much lighter due to his height, but his muscle makes him a lot more heavy.

Hange and Erwin have to be called to haul his ass--naked--out of the tub and into the bed. Hange is of no help since they’re laughing so hard--and Erwin is helping, but trying so hard not to break face and laugh too.

After they leave, you cover him up and cuddle into his frame; you could swear you heard a quiet, “thank you.”

[444tsumu]

title Not His Type

rating ★ ★ ☆ nsfw content

word count 4,800+

warnings timeskip!mattsun, yes i’m writing that he still practices w the s4, anyways explicit content, matsukawa calls you a bitch, spitting, rough sex, spanking, mattsun fucks you in his car, oral sex (f!reader giving), don't be silly wrap your willy folks

author’s note thanks to @kansroji for forcing me encouraging me to write this self-indulgent mattsun fic, send her her flowers everyone bc this was just muah :*

summary Issei teaches you that the meaning behind the words ‘I hate you’ is a lot different from what you’re used to.

“God, do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“How could someone be such a bitch?”

“I don’t know Mattsun, you tell me.”

There are two things necessary to keep the world spinning on its axis: inertia, and the insatiable hatred between you and Issei Matsukawa.

No one quite knows where it came from. Maybe it was your lack of regard for his permanently disinterested personality, or maybe it was the insufferable habit you had of making a comment every time Matsukawa did as much as make a noise— whatever it was, it was a never ending cycle of pure repugnance.

His tone was light, yet knowing Iwaizumi, you knew it was wavering on a more strict tone you really didn’t want to hear today.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

Oikawa watched the interaction between the three of you, eyes narrowing as he did something nobody appreciates from him: he started plotting.

To you and Issei, the nature of your relationship was that there wasn’t one at all. There was nothing but an indescribable hatred that will never go away because you guys just physically can’t stand the other.

To everyone else though? In Hanamaki’s words, “you guys just needed to fuck and get it over with already.” Sexual tension couldn’t fill half of the void the storm you and Mattsun left after every exchanged word. It nearly swallowed the room, the only two not able to see it being yourself and the middle blocker.

With an inquisitive look on his face, Oikawa decided the only way to get rid of this long lasting rivalry being now or never. “My dear Y/L/N, bad news.”

The words brought you back down to Earth, making you bite down a glare at the bored man in front of you and turning towards the setter.

“As much as I’d love to be the one to take you home,” he winks at you, long arm reaching out to lightly press itself against your cheek and you already see where this is going, “I just can’t—”

“Tooru..” Your voice wavered the same way Iwaizumi infamously did.

“Seriously Y/N-Chan, I hate being the bearer of bad news..” The sparkle in his eyes made you clench your jaw to prevent the scream from slipping through your lips. “But I had almost promised Iwa-chan and Makki a ride today.”

You could hear the slick in his voice, and you absolutely hated it. You hated how you knew exactly what was being planned. You knew in Oikawa’s stupid little head, he was formulating a stupid little plan thinking things would work out in his own stupid little way.

“I’m not getting into that fucking asshole’s car—”

“Oikawa I will purposely crash if she as much as steps foot in my car—”

“Get your fucking feet off my dashboard.” You hear his voice growl, long fingers reaching in front of him to press the Start-Stop button on his car and get the engine running.

You didn’t mean to press a sock-covered foot onto it, it’s just that you needed to adjust the anklet resting against your skin. You hadn’t caught when his eyes glanced over at the diamonds either, remaining for a second too long to be appropriate and quickly force it’s way in front of him.

With a slightly exaggerated roll of your eyes, you threw your head against the headrest and stared through the window to your side. You were wishing there was an awkward silence to torture Matsukawa’s ears, but instead, his phone automatically connected to its Bluetooth and began to play a song you surprisingly recognized.

He drove faster than you were sure he was supposed to. As soon as you blinked, he had already backed out of Seijoh’s parking lot and sped through the secluded roads and towards the city you inhabited.

Unwillingly, of course, you managed to steal a few glances at the brown-haired man next to you. His face was (surprise) as uninterested as ever, eyebrows resting dully above his hooded lids and lips turned just slightly down enough to look like a frown. Every now and then, his lips would go along with the song and his tongue would swipe across his bottom lip and into the corner of his cheek.

Matsukawa wasn’t an ugly guy. There wasn’t enough hatred in your soul to even try to lie against the idea. He was extremely tall, extremely fit, had a nice smile, and his voice matched his looks. If he wasn’t such a stuck up, emotionless asshole, he’d probably be one of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen. If and probably, of course.

“Gotta staring problem?” He muttered, head bobbing to the song in the background and that in itself just brought your cholesterol an unhealthy amount higher.

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I see you have a lack of vocabulary too..” The banter between the two of you went back and forth, an awkward silence retching the car’s air after he sadly had the last word.

“I can’t believe there was a time you weren’t such a nuisance.” You nearly mouthed, words quiet enough to get lost within the lyrics of Kanye West, yet loud enough to get into Mattsun’s earshot and cause the car to abruptly park on the side of the nearly secluded road ahead of you.

“Hey, what the fu—”

“What’s your problem with me?” Matsukawa’s words haunted the air, and if you weren’t already awaiting his words, you might have actually been scared of the harshness in his tone.

“Me?” You questioned, using a hand to dramatically smack against your chest and glare at him in disbelief. “What’s your problem with me?”

He didn’t respond, only staring at you blankly and gripping on the steering wheel with enough aggression to taint the knuckles of his large hands white.

“Stop acting like a toddler,” the annoyance looked weird on him, and his usual nonchalant attitude disappeared with a mask of pure frustration that you’d be lying about if you said was ugly on him, “just tell me what the issue is so we can both stop whatever the fuck it is we have going on.”

“We,” you pointed between the two of you, “do not have anything going on, for your information.” You stubbornly crossed your arms across your chest, staring at him blankly and watching his large hand run across his face.

“You wouldn’t even be my type, you know damn well that isn’t what—”

Every word after the first half of the sentence drowned out as you continued to repeat it in your head. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type. You wouldn’t even be my type…

“Earth to Y/N.” Mattsun snapped, glaring over at you and leaning his body back lazily against his driver’s seat. It was slightly reclined back, the comfortability of his position insinuating he didn’t plan on leaving until this conversation got somewhere.

“What do you mean I wouldn’t be your type?”

The words came out faster than you could acknowledge them. You didn’t regret speaking them, but you knew that they only worsened your situation. He would use this as if it was fuel to his never-ending out of fire of an ego and you hated it. The cold air in the car suddenly became more noticeable, goosebumps raising onto your exposed skin and making you feel as if all your senses were being ambushed.

“Well, well, well…” He begins to tease as if he was never angry, his large arms resting behind his head and that stupid smirk back onto his pink lips, “you feel some type of way about what I said?” His voice echoed into your ears as you did nothing but watch him in disbelief.

“You never stood a chance with me anyways.” You bit back at him.

Something in the air changed, but neither of you decided to acknowledge it. It was dark, the light from the dashboard doing nothing but illuminating your features and making Issei smirk to himself in the lack of lighting.

“How so?” He was antagonizing you, itching for you to continue to play his little game back with him because he had a plan. You could see it from the way he lazily blinked over at you, smirk still against his glowing face with nothing but arrogance and faux oblivion.

“You wouldn’t be able to handle me if you tried.”

Those words changed the aura within the car all in itself. You knew the double entendres of a statement could go any way with him. Deep down, you both knew exactly what you meant. Your words remained solid though, eyes staring at him like a fox refusing to glance away from his brown irises.

“Wanna try me?”

You were playing a dangerous game, you knew that. Something about you didn’t care though. There were many ways this conversation could’ve went, but you wouldn’t expect it to go in this direction.

The air in the room was thick, Issei’s brown irises watching you nothing short of predator like. No one spoke after those three words, and faintly, the change in mood also affected the change in genre of music as R&B began to slowly play through his speakers. You wanted to scoff.

His large ring covered hand suddenly inched towards your chin, gripping your jaw and forcing your eyesight on his own face. You weren’t one to blush, but the roughness to his calloused fingers brought a small tinge between your slightly exposed thighs.

“You gonna get in the back or I gotta force you back there?” His words commanded you, the strictness laced within the confines of his voice leaving you no option to do as he told.

Doing what Matsukawa said as if you were following his orders was something foreign to you. The temptation of doing as you pleased crossed the back of your mind, but the curiosity of seeing what he had in store filled you with much more satisfaction.

Without a word and instead settling for a simple eye roll, you kicked your shoes off and found your way between the two front seats and into the cold leather seats of the back of his car. It was cramped, surprisingly cleaner than you'd imagine, and smelt of nothing but Issei.

You would have enjoyed it if the circumstances were different.

Your body sat with your feet resting behind you, leaving a space open for him. The sound of his car door opening and shutting was the cause of the goosebumps rising against your skin.

Subconsciously, you knew were supposed to hate him. You were supposed to despise him for always being such an asshole to you, and you were never supposed to forgive him for anything he’s ever said to you out of his stupid smirking mouth.

You weren't supposed to be hopping into the backseat of his car after challenging him into sleeping with you. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying the feeling of his presence as it finally found its way next to you, the dark tints of his windows hiding his expression but not doing a good job at hiding the bulge hiding in the confinements of his sweatpants.

Your eyes glanced over his, quickly switching between the tent and his irises with an innocent smile on your face. “You gonna take those off or am I gonna have to force them off you?’

Mattsun had never laughed at anything you’d ever said. At least, never to your face. For the first time though, a soft chuckle left his lips as he hunched his body over and rolled his sweats down. You’d be lying if you said you never wanted to provoke that sound out of him again.

He wore Supreme black briefs, a smirk on his lips as he watched your eyes trail over to the excessively large print. His dick was long, curving deliciously to the left and making you fear for your own safety. The thought of that nearly made you drool.

Mattsun made a show of pulling his briefs down, his erection springing to life and showing you that he wasn't even fully hard yet. Maybe you would’ve felt some type of way about not arousing him as much as he was you, and you could thank the pool inside your panties for that, but something about it brought a glimmer to your eye Issei couldn’t ignore.

“Eager to suck my dick, huh?” His words ring against your ears, and you do nothing but give him a glare while getting on all fours across the backseat.

His long torso leaned against the car door, eyes boring onto your frame with a blank expression that drove you insane. You knew this was all an act, he had to have been pretending just to get a rise out of you. There was no way you could’ve missed the way his dick twitched when you got up to take your shorts off.

Your frame was left in a white t-shirt and a seamless green pair of panties known for their cheekster style. He would’ve told you that you looked absolutely delectable, but he'd never let you sit within that satisfaction.

You lowered yourself on all fours once again, holding your hair back with one hand and lowering yourself down between his long limbs. Your eyes just couldn't look away, the large veins running up and down his perfect looking length in a way that made you embarrassingly ready to shove it down your throat already.

And without another word, you opened your lips and allowed a trail of saliva to sliver down the underside of his dick. His thighs tensed up, but as you watched him through your lashes while lowering your lips onto his tip, his bored and expressionless face remained the same.

He couldn't take his eyes off the sight in front of him, as much as he'd hate to admit it. Your ass was up in the air, back arched in a way that nearly made him release a groan as your pretty little mouth left sloppy kisses along his throbbing tip. You used a free hand to run down his cock slowly, hands landing underneath his thick balls and holding them alongside the bottom half of his dick.

He tried to hold the hiss you took out of him, but you used that as an excuse to make him suffer even more. Almost as if it were a competition, you sucked your cheeks in while taking the rest him that fit into your mouth agonizingly slow.

Matsukawa was too big, not that you were complaining. You didn’t have much of a gag reflex, but his size goes beyond that. So in order to accommodate to the situation at hand, you lolled your tongue out across your bottom lip and easily slipped a bit more than half of him down your throat until he felt his tip tickle the back of it.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out, words stopping as he bit his lip and tilted his head to get a better look at you.

Your eyes began to water, but you ignored the sensation to take a deep breath as you began to massage his balls and lower half with your saliva covered hands. You began to move your mouth in the opposite direction of your hands, touching just enough of his balls with your tongue to get him to grip a chunk of your hair from within your own hand.

“Fuck, just like that.” You never took your eyes off him, and Matsukawa found it even harder to control himself with the way you took so much of him with so much ease.

You hollowed your cheeks as you slipped his now fully-hard dick out your mouth. Trails of saliva followed, the explicit view of your teary eyes and sloppy lips making him groan within his throat.

“Fuck my throat.”

The words were harsh, your expression being just as blank as his once was, and Issei realized he wasn’t really the one in control here. Not if all it took was for you to tell him what to do and he was scrambling to do it like second nature.

His lips revealed that lazy smirk you wanted to fuck off his face, the large hand gripping your hair nearly shoving his dick back into your fresh, wet mouth. “Don’t mind if I do, princess.”

The nickname he called you didn't even have time to register in your mind, the sensation of Matsukawa forcing your head up and down his dick as much as he could being the only thing on your brain. You couldn't help the tears from slipping down your cheeks, eyes opening once again to hazily look over to the ones burning a hole into your face.

Matsukawa couldn’t find it in himself to look away from you. He wasn't sure if it was the tears, or the way you allowed him to fuck your throat so easily, or the drool leaking down into the balls you fondled at the same time, or even the way the hand once gripping your own hair found its way between your legs as he watched you play with yourself, but Issei decided this image was going to ruin everyone else for him.

He already decided he couldn't get enough of you. The sound of your gags filled with car in a nearly pornographic way, yet not once did you ask him to stop and he took note of that. 

“Fuck,” he broke out, eyes struggling to watch yours as his lips parted open, “you’re gonna make me cum,” his words were interrupted by a load groan. Your tongue found its way back onto his balls as his tip rammed into the back of your throat and Issei felt his toes curl. “Fuck, fuck, fuck..”

Right on time, you went against his strong grip and popped his dick out of your mouth with saliva drooling down in a way that looked so forbidden, Issei was sure he would’ve came at that sight alone.

“That was...”

“Not your type?” You bit at him, a mocking smile on your lips as you bit your lip and found your way onto the comfort of his lap.

It was weird, the way you felt like you fit perfectly within his frame as if it was a piece of a puzzle. Matsukawa would agree if he could, hands nearly instinctively finding its way onto the globed of your ass and pulling the fabric of your panties over and over again.

“Never in a million years.”

His smirk haunted you, lidded eyes staring at you once again and you realize Issei Matsukawa is a really hard guy to get a reaction out of. So taking the challenge yet again, you stared at him just as emotionless. Your fingers lifted the patch stuck to your folds, and the trail of wetness that dripped over onto both you and his own thighs was nearly sinful to the sore eyes.

It was hard to imagine taking a dick you were sure you could see in your stomach with such an expression, and you wouldn’t wish that suffering on your worst enemy. You couldn’t believe how much just half of him stretched your insides out, your walls sucking him in and barely being able to hold it in together.

“Don't worry, take your time.” Matsukawa’s tone was beyond condescending, the taunt behind his words bringing an anger within you enough to cloud your mind of all common sense. It was unexpected, the way your body just shoved the rest of him inside of your tight, pulsating hole and rested all your body weight on top of him.

“Fuck!” Both of you yelped out, your hands clawing at his chest while his gripped your ass cheeks apart in nothing but a burning sensation.

He filled you up to the brim, the sureness of him hitting your cervix causing your eyes to flutter at the feeling. You bit your lip, adjusting your body to where your feet were on either side of him on the backseat and your body was more able to move.

His eyes widened in surprise at your actions, the sound of both of your pants alongside the music that was long forgotten struggling to keep you attentive. Without warning, you lifted your body up and slammed back down onto him. The action brought a pretty little gasp out your lips, mouth parted and eyes clenched at just how fucking amazing the curve and thickness of his cock was.

“C’mon baby,” he whispered into your ears, hands reaching over to intertwine themselves with your own so you got better balance, “fuck me like you mean it.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You breathed out, beginning to bounce your body up and down his dick perfect enough to hear the squelching sounds of your wetness after every impact. Issei groaned, eyes glued to the sight of where your pussy swallowed him whole and spit him back out over and over again.

“Mm, what else baby?”

Issei’s bored resolve started to crack, groans slipping through his lips in a way that made you tighten up against him even more if it were possible. Your hands gripped his intertwined ones, bouncing up and down faster than you could probably handle. The sensation of his dick hitting your cervix over and over causing you to arch your back closer into his body as you bounced.

The sound of your body slamming into his began to quicken, the strength of your legs giving up as you realized his started to fuck you back from the bottom and drill his length into you.

“Fuck, Issei…” You moaned out embarrassingly loud, Mattsun’s eyes watching you with curiosity in his irises from the way he wanted to figure out how to get you to moan out like that again.

“Don’t be shy now,” he teased, the strain in his voice telling you that even if he was torturing you with the pounding of his dick, he was enjoying it just as much as you, “where’d all that mouth go, pretty?”

You felt yourself clench at the nickname, head leaning back and leaving your neck open for him to lick a trail over towards your jaw and softly bite the plush skin. The windows began to fog up, the sensation of your poor pussy taking him in and out and quick pace causing the car to jump up and down with each stroke.

“F-fuck,” you stuttered out, nearly crying out when his hands found it’s way towards under your ass to support you as he drilled all of this thickness into your throbbing pussy.

The familiar knot began to grow within your stomach, and your hand found it’s way between his messy locks only to grab it and tilt his head roughly back against the window. A surprised groan left his lips, eyes staring up at you widely with a smirk endured from straight pleasure shot up his lips.

“You gonna cum all on daddy’s dick?”

Usually the words would have made you cringe, and you wanted to bite a snarky remark at him for the name. Yet something in you grew feral at the sentence, beginning to rub your clit against him each time you harshly dropped down as you roughened your grip on his hair.

“Fuck yes, daddy, make me cum,” your words tickled his ears, the moans at the end of each word bringing Matsukawa into a state of euphoria. He could hear you say that to him for the rest of his life, if he could.

“Come on baby,” he groaned out harshly, smacking your ass enough to leave a sting that made you cry out into his neck, “give it to me!”

His words echoed in your ears, your loud cries like music to his ears as he watched you fuck him back just as rough as he was being with you. Your hand pulled his head back once again, his scalp hitting the window harshly but he didn’t care once your lips came crashing onto his.

It was nothing but teeth and tongue, sucking on each other’s muscles and making out as if nothing in this world could ever be right again without it. His hands gripped your ass once again, spreading them harshly apart and spanking them with as much toughness that went into spiking a volleyball.

You screamed into his mouth, words being unable to come out as he began to drill into you even rougher and faster than you knew was possible. Your legs had long given out at this point, simply being tossed up and down like a rag doll by Issei’s strong arms and cocky attitude. You were in heaven, even if you’d never admit it.

“I— I hate you,” you fought to yelp out, pussy beginning to squeeze at the feeling you knew all too well as you stared into his eyes and made him look at you as if he was seeing God, “but you fuck me— fuck, you fuck me so good..”

Your words became faint whispers, stars beginning to formulate instead of his once brown irises and bring you into a state of euphoria.

“Daddy I’m gonna—” The words were stolen from your lips as Matsukawa slammed your lips against his own and gripped your back close to his chest.

“Cum baby,” he groaned into your lips, your own sounds preventing you from being able to kiss him back as your covered tits bounced into the confinement of his chest, “cum on daddy’s big dick.”

The words brought a vibration within you, a mantra of the words daddy and please slipping as you felt the euphoria take over your body and leave you with nearly nothing inside you. Issei could practically feel you cum, his own resolve giving out as his shot his thick cum into your throbbing pussy and bringing another scream from between your swollen lips.

“Take it, good girl— fuck yes..” Words slipped from his mouth without his own permission, the sensation of your pussy holding him within you as if it never wanted to let him go and he really wouldn’t mind.

Nothing but your struggles to catch your own breath filled the car, his own haunting the ghost of your ear as you laid out across his chest with saliva threatening to slip from your lips and cum leaking down both of your thighs. It was absolutely disgusting if you really thought about it, but the idea of knowing you had just slutted each other out so sinfully brought your toes to curl one last time.

No one said a word, and as much as you wanted to comment on how he was still gripping your chest against his own, you decided to go against it and try to find reality from the solitude of his wide chest. You could hear Brent Faiyaz on the radio, the view of just how foggy the windows were making you giggle to yourself.

“What’s funny?” The rumble of the words against his chest caused your pussy to throb once again, and you had almost forgotten he was still lodged inside of you with a load of cum threatening to spill out.

“Nothing.” Your voice was gone, and as embarrassing as it was, Issei mentally found himself obsessing over how raspy it got.

The silence was calm, yet the awkward conversation of what next lingered within the air between the two of you. You knew it was going to come soon, and you weren’t really sure of what could possibly happen afterwards. There was no going back from this, Issei Matsukawa had fucked you so good, you never wanted to fuck anyone else again.

The first to break it was Mattsun, which took you by surprise. His large hands found their way towards you cheek, caressing your head as his pushed you back far enough to face him with fucked out eyes and swollen lips and Issei convinces himself you’re one of the seven wonders of the world.

“We should do that again sometime.” He suggests, bored eyes staring into yours as you noticed the small smile lifting amongst the corner of his lips. You wanted to smile back, but the idea of having some more fun with him seemed quite better.

“Eh,” you replied, lifting your weakened body back into his straddling state and biting your lips as you placed both hands across his broad chest. You notice the way his cock twitches hungrily within you, and you realize you were gonna enjoy this a bit too much.

He’s seeing stars, thinking the hottest thing he’s ever seen is a fucked out you staring at him this way and you realize you’ve finally won. You stare at him, bored eyes and a lazy smirk on your lips mimicking the face he spent all his life mastering.

“You’re not really my type.”

                             © 444TSUMU 2021

[iwaslut]

— itty bitty titty committee

⤷ anonymous asked: Could you make a jjk characters with a small chested reader (of course, only if you are taking requests, inglesh is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes)?

note: no need to apologize at all, babes! and of course i can <3

ft. fushiguro megumi, gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, nanami kento, tōdō aoi

warning: afab!reader, not full-blown nsfw but strong nsfw themes and very suggestive, everyone is of age

disclaimer: all of them love titties!!!! of all sizes!!!

— fushiguro megumi.

it actually settles fushiguro’s nerves that your tits are on the smaller side. it’s not as intimidating to him. 

don’t get me wrong, just because he’s not as intimidated, doesn’t mean he’s not still incredibly awkward. he likes your tits, but fushiguro has a difficult time expressing just how attracted he is to you.

therefore, he’s probably not very good at comforting you </3

he doesn’t know how to phrase it the right way — that he loves your boobs just the way they are — so he shows you through his actions.

yeah, he fucking worships your tits

he places soft kisses all over them and gently swirls his tongue around your nipples. but the moment fushiguro manages to pull a moan out of you and feels you tug harder at his hair? he’s gone. he can’t hold back anymore and starts sucking hickies everywhere. when he’s done, your skin is all marked up and fushiguro realizes just how much he likes the look of it.

fushiguro is a sucker for when you wear bralettes, especially cute lacy ones. he thinks it’s so fucking hot and he’ll drag his lips and tongue over your skin through the fabric. he tries to be delicate, but he might accidentally tear the material in his haste to get it off of you </3

— gojo satoru.

god, gojo....

yeah this man is a whore, but he’s a whore for you only.

you’re insecure????? not if gojo has anything to do with it.

he will not hesitate to shower you in compliments.

your cheeks burn when he whispers in your ear about just how hot he thinks your tits are and what he wants to do to you.

he’s the type to slip his hands under your shirt so they can cup your boobs at any moment.

sometimes, he’ll just rest his hands there, but he’s a cheeky bastard, so more often than not, it leads to more.

his chest is firmly pressed to your back as he trails kisses up the column of your neck. gojo slides your shirt all the way up and makes you bite down on the hem of it, so it’s not in his way. he smiles into your skin when he hears your breath hitch and feels you go lax against him.

gojo loves when you don’t wear a bra. if he had anything to do with the matter, he’d toss out all of them. he loves how your tits look through a shirt when you’re not wearing a bra. his attention hones in on how your nipples poke through the fabric, and gojo can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

— itadori yuuji.

itadori’s a bit of a dummy so if you ever express that you’re insecure about how small your boobs are, he’s so fucking confused. he just loves you so much and everything about you, so he’s all ????

god, he tilts his head at an angle, looking all puzzled and just says “but, there’s nothing wrong with them?”

i know he said his type are tall girls with a fat ass, but itadori’s not all that shallow.

like yeah, he appreciates looks, but he likes your tits because they’re yours. my man does not give a fuck about their size. it honestly does not even cross his mind.

he does think they’re so fucking cute. he nearly drools whenever he sees you wearing a bikini top or a sports bra. he just loves the way they look.

he loves laying on your chest. he claims that it’s the comfiest place to rest his head on, besides your ass.

itadori also really likes just popping a titty in his mouth. most of the time, it’s not even a sexual thing. my boy just has an oral fixation <3

— nanami kento.

 your appearance isn’t what made nanami fall for you, it was your personality. that’s not to say he doesn’t appreciate your looks, he’s not fucking blind. nanami is well-aware of how attractive you are, but he genuinely doesn’t really care for boob size.

he’s really perceptive of your feelings, so if you’re ever feeling insecure about how small your tits are, nanami knows even before you choose to voice it out loud.

he’s so fucking good at comforting you. he’ll seat you on his lap with your legs spread obscenely wide for him. one hand is nestled in between your thighs, fingers curling into your dripping cunt while the other is playing with your tits. nanami’s warm breaths hit the shell of your ear as he softly murmurs praises about how beautiful you are.

one of nanami’s favorite looks on you is when you wear a baggy shirt with no bra. he just assumes that you’re wearing something underneath your t-shirt, so it’s a pleasant surprise when his hands come in contact with the bare skin of your tits instead on the usual material of your bra.

— tōdō aoi.

menace. he loves tits. so. much. 

if you ever feel self-conscious that your boobs are small, tōdō will tell you, in a completely serious tone, that “a true man appreciates boobs of any size.”

you’re convinced that you’re dating an idiot, but tōdō’s comment does make you feel better.

no but tōdō for real makes you feel so much more comfortable with your own body. he worships you and your body <3 he never fails to make you feel desirable.

he has no issue telling you about how attractive he finds you. you bury your face into your hands in embarrassment when he proudly proclaims that “he loves your boobs” in public.

he wants to have his hands on your tits at all times.

tōdō is huge and definitely has a size kink, so when he sees how tiny your tits look when he cups them, his dick gets so fucking hard.

if you wear crop tops or tight shirts, tōdō actually goes feral. he will toss you over his shoulder and just drag you off somewhere with no warning. your tits just look so fucking good, how is he expected not to fuck you? 

[versadies]

Hey hey!! I've been following you for a while now and I love your work sm aaa

Saw the event, I love soulmate au's 😩‼ as a gemini, may I request a gemini prompt + kaeya? Up to you who the enemy is, I trust you ^ ^

-🦚 @pavo-ocell-me

someday, one day (hc scenario)

penpal: omg hi !! im glad u love my work, i hope this is to ur liking 🙌

prompt: gemini the twins, enemy-lover soulmate au

pairing/s: kaeya x gn!reader

sypnosis: when you thought he was your enemy but is actually your lover.

includes: spoilers on diluc and kaeya's backstory, spoilers on genshin's official webtoon, violence, physical pain, burns, arguing, enthusiastic!diluc (pls take note that its canon that he USED to be like all the other pyro characters b4 his father's death.),

when you first met diluc, it felt like he was your knight in shining armor.

the first time you two met was when you accidentally fell down from your balcony after leaning too much on the railing and diluc managed to catch you bridal-style whilst he was on patrol around the city as a knight.

it truly was romantic– and a near-death experience for you.

so when you found out that his name is imprinted on your wrist, you felt ecstatic, and so did he.

since then, you two were known as the youngest soulmates who had found each other in mondstadt, people admiring your relationship with envy and happiness.

of course, you and diluc were a happy couple. although you would be lying if you said diluc is overall your type, you managed to find yourself falling in love with the man.

when crepus, diluc's father, found out about diluc's once-in-a-lifetime moment, he simply laughs and pats you and his son by your backs with a proud smile.

"by the time my son turns 18, we better make arrangements of your wedding! it's a ragnvindr tradition, after all." he comments eagerly. you honestly weren't sure if the man was joking or not.

it didn't take long before you meet his dear brother, kaeya.

when you find out his brother's name is the same as the one that's imprinted on your other wrist, being surprised is far from your reaction.

"don't worry about it, y/n." diluc reassures you one night as the two of you stroll around the city together. "i'll make sure nothing will go wrong between you and my brother. besides, you always have me, right?"

if diluc hadn't tried what he said, perhaps things would've gone differently than now.

in fear of being enemies with your future brother-in-law, you decided to avoid kaeya like a plague, giving the young man apologetic looks whenever you walk away from his presence.

as much as you're avoiding the man, you couldn't imagine hating on kaeya. every night, you always think of what can make kaeya your enemy. what is there to hate him? he's funny, chivalrous, everything that screams your type of men.

wait.. type?

your heart drops from the moment you started thinking romantic things about diluc's brother, looking behind you to see your soulmate sleeping soundly with a frown plastered on your face.

is diluc really your lover?

doubts started to cross your mind. what if diluc isn't your soulmate? what is there to prove that kaeya is your enemy? are you just overthinking things?

"i can't think about this." you murmured to yourself, pulling up your comforter before laying back down on your bed and try to fall asleep.

"i have a wedding to worry about next year."

just as you said, you did try not to think about the possibilities you have with the two brothers, distracting yourself with tasks and dates with your lover, who's quite oblivious to your problems going on inside your head.

unnoticed by you, you weren't the only one who has been burdened with your thoughts.

by the time diluc's birthday has arrived, the two of you started to get excited from your future wedding, excited to finally marry each other after years of spending your adolescence together.

you didn't expect an inconvenience during diluc and crepus's trip.

you didn't expect crepus trying to save diluc from a monster using something that no one but snezhnaya has ever heard of.

you didn't expect crepus asking diluc to put him out of his misery.

you didn't expect diluc to come strolling back to your shared home with blood stained in his clothing at a late hour.

you never, ever, expected your lover to fight his own brother when he took a visit.

and you did not expect your lover to plan on leaving you and everyone.

"what do you mean you're... you're leaving?" you ask in disbelief, staring at diluc as though he has two heads. "can't i go with you–?"

"no, this journey will be too dangerous for you–"

"this applies to you as well! you're not an immortal or some god–"

"i can do this on my own, y/n." he says with his eyes narrowed. you couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. this isn't the diluc you know and loved.

"but diluc.. isn't this too much? your father... i know crepus's death is too much but, why can't you stay?" you whispered, cupping his cheeks. "what about our wedding? the life you and i planned after your bi–"

"my father died and you're seriously thinking about our wedding?!" diluc forces your hands away from his face, glaring at you. "why can't you understand that i'm trying to find out the truth on this delusion–"

"i do understand!" you yelled out. "i do understand that you want to do this for him but what about monstadt? the knights? what about your brother–"

"HE'S NOT MY BROTHER!" he yelled, lashing out at you as you screamed in surprise when you saw fire in front of you, immediately covering your face with your arms out of reflex.

you didn't notice how your lover's eyes widens on what he did,

you couldn't notice him, not when you're too focused on the huge burns on your arms.

"oh my god..." diluc murmurs, slowly taking a few steps back as he takes a look of what he did, ignoring the sudden presence of adelaide and elzer, who both gasped from the scene.

your eyes starts to water from the intense pain, trying not to cry out and scream your heart out in fear of making your lover feel regret. you could honestly care less on what diluc is doing, all you could think about was the intense burns from your arms.

suddenly, the door was slammed open by kaeya– who was wet from the rain outside.

"what the hell did you do to them?!" kaeya exclaims, running towards you with a shocked look on his face. "i'll take you to the cathedral alright? the sisters will heal you." he whispers, wiping off the tears from your face as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and takes you towards the doors.

before diluc could let out a word from his mouth, kaeya gives him a glare.

"you may hate me for what happened," kaeya says.

"but for celestia's sake, don't ever come to them or call them your lover ever again."

that was the last time you saw diluc.

you eventually find out from the chattering nuns that the man had already left monstadt with no news of when he'll return, causing everyone to pity you and for diluc about what happened.

you were thankful that no one except the nuns found out about the incident of your arms.

throughout your stay in the cathedral, you usually find kaeya beside you, keeping an eye on you with a concerned look on his face. you honestly couldn't imagine what would've happened if the man didn't storm inside dawn winery. would diluc actually try to help you later on and leave? would you have suffered more with your injuries as he stands by watching you in disbelief?

whatever outcome you could think of, your heart ached from them all.

would diluc stayed had he been the one who tries to take care of your injuries?

either way, you knew the man is no longer the one you fell in love with from those years ago.

as years grew by, so did your friendship with kaeya.

although it was awkward from the start, you eventually warmed up to the man who you thought is your enemy, feeling more comfortable with him than before.

the two of you started having careers by then, with you having a successful career whilst kaeya becomes the calvary captain of the knights of favonius.

although the two of you are busy, you agreed to always meet each other at night in angel's share, where you drink the night away and talk about anything that comes out of your minds.

there wasn't a day when you thought about diluc.

thankfully, your burns weren't too severe and is slowly fading away throughout the years. but that doesn't mean the memories you had from it disappeared as well.

ever since that dreadful night, you started having nightmares about the incident, always finding yourself sitting up from your bed with a scared look on your face.

you wished you didn't want to see diluc this way, but you honestly couldn't bare to face him if he ever comes back to the city.

you don't see him as a lover or a friend. all he is to you at this very moment is your nightmare.

your nightmares simply washes away when kaeya comes up in your mind.

whenever you think about your so-called destined enemy, you felt comforted and safe. it was understandable really! you were touched by how he took care of you regardless of you being his "enemy".

however... now that you could think about it, the calvary captain has a lot more common with you than diluc himself. the fact that his brother made you laugh a lot and supported you in many ways made you started thinking that maybe diluc really isn't your destined lover.

your heart skips a beat from the thought of kaeya being your true lover, the smile you wore never fading away.

perhaps when you're finally starting to move on from the relationship you had with diluc, maybe... just maybe, kaeya could be the one you've been hoping for.

you started to sleep more peacefully, excited for the future that awaits.

somewhere in the calvary captain's home, the man is dreaming and hoping of you too.

[quartzalynlove]

Anxious

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader

Summary: you have trouble being vulnerable, but Peter wants you to know it's okay

A/n: this one cut deep personally...also my asks are still open for requests!! See my pinned post for rules and fandoms I accept :)

This is why you hated running errands alone.

The bustling crowd seemed so focused and organized compared to how awkward you perceived yourself to be. You tried to ignore the thoughts pointing out your every physical and social flaw by repeating the grocery list in your head.

Milk, eggs, cereal, and waffles. Milk, eggs, cereal, and waffles.

You kept your eyes down, but scanned the store so you didn't accidentally bump into someone or something like the oblivious klutz you were. You were convinced everyone was looking at you; judging you. You were wrought with embarrassment, heat creeping onto your face. It felt as if you had shrunk inside yourself, and your body was much larger than it actually is. Your heart pounded in your chest as your breathing sped up. As you placed items into your basket thoughts continued to float in the back of your head.

I'm in everyone's way. The way I'm walking is so weird.

You kept pushing them back and eventually made it to the self-checkout. There was no way you were going to an actual register.

Not long after, you got back to your car, calming yourself as much as you could before driving home.

You were always like this, so anxious and self conscious. Terrified to be a bother to someone or come off as weird or annoying. You tried to become as “normal” as possible in hopes people would like you better, but you always got the feeling that they still hated you, even when most never said that they did. From there you became cold and distant, only letting certain people see certain sides of you, but no one could see you as you were now, meaning you had to pull yourself together before reaching the apartment.

You and Peter were roomates. Although you kept everyone at an arms length he found a way to break through the barrier. Or you let him? Either way it wasn’t surprising, peter was just the type of person everyone loved.

You made it home and were climbing the apartment stairs as you rehearsed your words and actions in your head so Peter wouldn’t think anything was wrong.

You opened the door to Peter on the couch with his computer, likely researching something. He turned his head towards you wearing a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.” He said.

“Hey, Pete.” You managed to reply.

You thought to yourself.

Okay now just to my room.

However, before you even stepped off of the doormat Peter turned back to you.

“Where are the groceries?”

You froze where you stood. You were so concerned about trying to stay cool you forgot the bags in the car.

You idiot! You insulted yourself.

Your body was stiff like a board, face hot, and hands clammy as you began to explain.

“I forgot them in the car. I’ll just-”

Peter cut off your almost whispered words with a light chuckle that made you more nervous.

Was he laughing at me?

“It’s alright, I got it.” He said.

When Peter walked out you booked it to your room. You sat on your bed holding your body wanting to become as small as possible. As you scolded yourself tears began to form in your eyes, you were so overwhelmed.

Peter's knock at the door snapped you out of your thoughts and panic. You blinked back the tears and sat up straight before answering.

"Yeah?" You said, cringing at how your voice trembled.

Peter opened the door and looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.

"You okay," he asked. "You seem nervous."

You bit the inside of your cheek and averted your eyes. After clearing your throat you attempted to shoo Peter off.

"I'm fine." You lied.

At this point you seemed to be okay, you forced your eyes to focus on him, and your voice back to its monotonous state. However, Peter saw through your facade, you were picking at the skin on your fingertips.

"No you're not, Y/N."

You wanted to tell him you weren't, but you couldn't let yourself. Your frustration with yourself was beginning to boil over, so you did what you always did and targeted it at others.

"Yes I am. Now, go away Pete." You said annoyed.

Peter crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. He may have never said anything but he was very aware of your defenses. He wouldn't go away no matter how harsh the cold wind of your words were.

"How long are you gonna keep up the tough guy façade," He raised an eyebrow; you furrowed yours in anger.

He wounded your pride and you couldn't think of any response.

"It's okay if you're not okay, and it's okay if you don't wanna tell me, but you have to get yourself to accept that."

From there you felt words rise up your throat, and you couldn't stop them even though you desperately wanted to.

"But it's so stupid; it doesn't matter."

Your eyes took an interest to the floor; you swore you could hear your heart it beat so hard.

Peter sat down next to you.

"It's not stupid, it's your feelings, and they definitely matter."

You had so much more to say but did want to or know how. Thankfully Peter picked up on your discomfort and grabbed a hand that sat in your lap, rubbing a thumb across your knuckles.

"Stop acting so strong, Y/N, I'm not gonna judge you, I love you." He smiled softly.

You slowly turned to Peter, nerves starting to ease.

"I love you too."

[infinitefandomimagines]

Scarred - Zuko x Reader

WARNINGS: ARGUING, BURN SCARS, ANGST

-

REQUEST: zuko x reader where the reader is the last one to forgive zuko at the western air temple bc he accidentally hurt her in the crystal catacombs and than zuko goes to her tent, begging for forgiveness and she shows him the scar he gave her and it’s super fluffy:33

-

"Y/N. . . what do you say?" All eyes landed on you, waiting for your response to Aang's question. However, there was only one pair of eyes in particular you glared back at; and if looks could kill, the recently renounced Fire Nation prince in front of you would've surely met his demise right then. But Zuko knew how to hold himself in front of those who wanted to intimidate him. If there was anything his father taught him, it was that much.

Despite your fiery stare and previous threats from the first time he pleaded for forgiveness that you'd "knock him on his ass" if he ever came near you again, he kept his composure. There was no doubt in his mind you'd stay true to that warning, which is why he made sure to keep enough distance between the two of you.

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes, so far Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph had agreed to let him join the team, albeit some more hesitantly than others. If everyone else found it in their hearts to forgive and forget, surely you could as well. Wrong.

"No."

You saw the last bit of hope fizzle from his eyes as defeat weighed down on him, causing his shoulders to sink and his head to drop. "I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you. I've done horrible things, hurt you and your friends-"

"You can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you've caused me!" Your words held a venomous sting, yet your tone was strained, calm almost.

"Y/N," Katara stepped up behind you, her voice was soft. You could barely feel the hand she'd placed on your left shoulder, thick and itchy bandages blocking her attempt at comfort. "I don't like it either, but Aang needs to learn fire bending."

"I really believe he's changed, give him a chance to-"

You cut Aang off, finally breaking your gaze from Zuko to face the young monk. "He's already had too many chances!"

No one could admit that you were wrong, not even Zuko. Because every time he'd faught against your little group of rag-tag heroes, you'd given him a chance. Even while the rest of team avatar faught the exiled prince, you never threw a single blow that wasn't defensive or to save your friends. Instead, you'd offer him a chance to join the right side. Of course, he never accepted, but you saw the benefits of your kindness when he'd began to show a sense of mercy against you. There was something in your head telling you he was more than just a villain.

But that mindset changed when you and the gang faught against him and his sister in the crystal catacombs. When Aang almost died. When he chose the Fire Nation's side. When he'd made sure to leave you a permanent reminder of that day.

After a few moments of tense silence, you let out an impatience scoff. "Leave, Zuko. I gave you my answer, the least you can do is respect it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, mumbling out an apology before turning on his heels. He only got in a few steps before Aang interjected.

"Zuko, stop."

He did, glancing over his shoulder, ready to hear what Aang had to say.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but Zuko is staying. I need need to learn fire bending and he's my only option. I really believe he's changed for the better."

"You don't have to forgive him, but Aang's right, we need him," Sokka added in, to which Toph agreed.

You took in their words, it was obvious they weren't up for debate. You hated that they were right, you all did need Zuko, no matter your current opinion on him.

"Fine," you sighed, looking at Zuko, who was now standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "But stay away from me."

Over the next few days, Zuko had somehow managed to gain the complete and utter trust of everyone, even Katara. Everyone except you. Then again, you hadn't had your "life changing field trip with Zuko" that made everyone seemingly forget about everything he'd ever done to them. Field trip or not, earning your trust wasn't going to be that easy. You didn't care how many times he made everybody tea and told cringey jokes.

"Where did you learn to make so many different types of tea?" Aang inquired, causing everyone to look at Zuko, wanting to hear his answer.

Zuko returned to his seat around the fire between Toph and Aang, finally finished handing out small cups of tea. "My uncle, it's his favorite thing to make, he even owned a tea shop at one point."

"You mean the one you betrayed," you deadpanned coldly. You flicked your eyes up from the warm cup of tea in your hands to Zuko, wanting to see his reaction.

His smile faultered, and katara shot a disapproving look at you. For a second you felt guilty, maybe that was too far. He looked genuinely hurt by your comment, but soon another emotion took over his features. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. That one." His tone was one of poorly restrained bitterness, you'd definitely struck a nerve.

You hummed in response, refusing to break eye contact with him, like you were challenging him to say something equally as cold, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he took a deep breath, just like his uncle taught him.

"I don't get it," He asked, frustrated and fed up with your snarky comments and side eyes. "Everyone else trusts me, why can't you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Katara could feel the tension and awkwardness of the impending argument hanging over everyone. This wasn't the time nor place to be having this conversation.

"I think now would be a good time for another healing session," she interjected, giving you a look that informed you she wasn't exactly asking. With a frustrated huff, you stood up and made your way to your tent, not even waiting for Katara to follow.

You plopped down onto your sleeping bag, sitting with your left side towards the opening.

Katara was there in a few minutes, holding a medium sized bowl of water in her hands. She gently set it down on the ground, taking a seat on your sleeping bag as well, facing your left side.

You tugged your left sleeve down so you could free it. With your shoulder now exposed, she carefully removed the bandages that covered your shoulder and the side of your neck, revealing the red and scarred skin hidden underneath.

"How does it look?" You asked, attempting to ignore the itchy feeling of the fresh air hitting your wound.

"It's healing, slowly" she answered as she conjured the water from the bowl and molded it with her hands. She purified the liquid, causing it it glow. Slowly, she lowered it until the cool water molded over your injured skin. You clenched your teeth and whimpered at the sudden sting the contact made, but then Katara started making circular motions with her hands, beginning the healing process. The stinging pain soon morphed into a comforting cold and relieving sensation.

Katara had done this for you and Aang multiple times since the gang escaped from that wretched crystal catacomb. As much progress as your skin had made in healing, you couldn't seem to wipe the painful memories of how you'd recieved such a wound from your mind. You could remember the events so vividly it was as if they'd happened yesterday.

You were stalling, Zuko and Azula knew that, yet they didn't seem to mind. If anything, Azula enjoyed watching you struggle to give your friends more time. You needed to stall them long enough for Aang to fully enter the avatar state, that's all.

"Come on, Zuko, you know what needs to be done!" Azula coaxed.

"No! You still have a chance Zuko, you can still make this right!" You could see the conflict rising in him as you and Azula tugged at his morals.

There was a moment, a single second where his emotions betrayed him, where you could see how badly he wanted to go with you and the gang. But it was gone just as fast as it came.

"I will kill the avatar and restore my honor, as well as my rightful place beside my father!" He launched into action, sending overpowering blows your way.

He kept you distracted and unable to help your friends long enough for Azula to strike down Aang. Your head snapped towards Katara's screams and you saw him laying there, completely unconscious.

You were distracted, and Zuko impulsively took advantage, sending a blast of orange and red flames towards you.

In all honesty, he expected you to dodge it, you always did without fail. But this time you were too distracted, too concerned with Aang, and he caught you completely off guard. You didn't even realize you were being attacked until the flames painfully scorched your skin.

You let out a horrifying scream as you crumbled to your knees, your shaky hand hovering over your left shoulder as you tried to control your instinct to grab it, knowing it would only hurt worse. You clenched your teeth together, biting back tears as you whipped your head around go see Zuko.

He looked shocked, remorseful even, but that didn't stop anger from edging its way into your glare.

You shuddered at the memory and tried to shake it from your head completely.

"You're all done," Katara said, maneuvering the water back into the bowl. A dull ache returned to your wound, but it felt significantly better than before.

"Thanks, Katara," you mumbled.

"Do you need help rewrapping the bandages?"

You shook your head, preferring to be alone and do the difficult task by yourself. Katara seemed to understand, because she didn't push the issue like she usually would. Instead, she left you with a few words.

"What you said was too far tonight, you should really apologize to Zuko, he is trying you know?"

She didn't wait for a response, not that you planned on giving much of one anyway, but soon you were alone, relishing in the peaceful silence.

But your silence didn't last long, just a few minutes after Katara left there was a whispering voice just outside your tent. It was unmistakable who'd come to visit you, and with great reluctance did you let him in.

"What do you want?" you asked, annoyance filling your voice. You refused to make eye contact with the boy, opting to stare at the mess of tangled bandages in your hands.

Your question was met with silence, that only seemed to worsen your mood. Really? He invades your tent just to ignore your one question? This guy was just unbelievable!

You could feel yourself loosing your temperature once again. "I said, what do you-" Your head snapped up at Zuko, ready to tell him off. But you froze when you saw his gaze, and how it held your figure. His jaw was slack, and his eyes swam as tears pooled at his lash-line. But his eyes never met yours. No, his focus was completely on the uncovered scar that graced your left side.

Your shoulder had taken most of the impact, just shy of being completely colored with a dull red scar. But the wound didn't stop there, covering a decent portion of your shoulder blade. The red marking also stretched up in a jagged stripe, narrowing to a point on the side of your neck, just barely marking your cheek.

You hated how you shuddered under his gaze, and had to look away. Your fingers moving faster as your tried to unravel the tangled bandage. You wanted to cover the burned area as soon as possible.

"I- I did that." It wasn't a question. He spoke purely in matter-of-fact statements, he knew exactly where you'd received your mark from.

"Yeah." You said sharply, picking up the bandage and moving to re-wrap the large wound.

"I . . . I am so sorry-"

"You've said."

Re-wrapping the affected area was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought, especially in your heightened state or frustration. Usually Katara did this part, and you were starting to regret sending her away.

"Please, let me help you," Zuko pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out to grasp at the bandage in your grip. You immediately flinched away from him, the sudden movement sending a sharp pain through your left side.

"Stay away from me!" You bit at him.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand back from you, as if he'd burned you unintentionally for a second time. "I'm sorry," he impulsively spilled out.

"Would you stop saying that? Stop apologizing, nothing is going to make me- ow!" Your own pain cut your sentence short, the sharp pain returning, sending another shock wave up your side at your frustrated movements.

"I'm so- just, please, let me help you and then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

You took a moment to think about the offer, and as much as you didn't want his help, the promise for him to leave is what enticed you to agree. So reluctantly, you handed him the bandages and positioned yourself closer to him, allowing Zuko to access your wound and wrap it with ease.

With slow movements, Zuko began wrapping the burned area. His touch was suprisingly gentle, even more so than Katara's, something you hadn't thought possible. But even with his feather-like touch, your skin still twitched as his fingers and the bandages made contact with the more sensitive areas. Zuko muttered out small apologies each time you flinched, despite your earlier message to stop that. Though the skin had begun the early stages of scarring, it was still sensitive.

"Uh, d-did I ever tell you how I got my scar?" Zuko asked suddenly, not even bothering to look up from his task. You knew what he was doing, he'd been doing things like that since he got here, trying to make small talk with you to cover up the awkward tension. You usually never entertained it, but for some reason tonight you felt intrigued by his question.

"No." You answered shortly, trying your best not to show your growing interest. You'd always been curious about the scar.

"My father gave it to me," he stated, oddly calmly. It was almost mindless the way he told the story as he continued to carefully wrap up your injury. Like the memory had become second nature to tell.

"Oh," you whispered out softly, your mind buzzing with a million different ways to respond to him, yet none of them felt right.

"I spoke out of turn during a meeting, over a general. They wanted to sacrifice an entire division of fire nation soldiers to gain the advantage. But I-," He swallowed thickly. ". . . I thought that was wrong so I spoke up."

You nodded ever so slightly, letting out a soft hum, showing that you were still listening and waiting for him to continue. At this point Zuko had finished wrapping the bandages around your burn, allowing you to turn your body to face him fully.

"My father was furious with my disrepect towards the general. He said that the dispute would need to be resolved with an agni kai, and I accepted. And when the day came I thought I'd be fighting the general I interrupted, but then my father walked out, my agni kai was to be against him."

With each word you felt your heart grow heavier and ache for the boy you swore you hated. You were beginning to question whether you genuinely hated him or if what you truly felt was left over betrayal and anger.

"How old were you?" You finally asked the question that had been bouncing around your head since he began the story.

"Thirteen, not long before I was banished."

You felt yourself boil with anger, but for once it wasn't directed towards the boy in front of you. No, you were furious with the Fire Lord. Who could do that to someone? To a child. Zuko must not have noticed the way your jaw clenched and your fists tightened into balls, because he continued the story as if he hadn't just made your heart drop into your stomach with his answer.

"I didn't want to fight my father, I couldn't. But he took my refusal as another sign of disrespect. I begged for his forgiveness, but he wouldn't hear it. He claimed that I would learn my lesson through suffering. He raised his hand just in front of my face and then he-"

His voice caught in his throat with a crack as he visibly grimaced from the sheer memory of the event. Instinctively, you reached out for his hand, placing yours over top of his much larger one. Now it was his turn to flinch at the sudden contact.

"Zuko, it's okay, you don't have to tell me this, I understand-"

"No! I do! I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you! I need you to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to feel the same pain I did. After what my father did, I never wanted to inflict that on anyone. I knew that pain and yet I still hurt you . . . the one person who actually believed I could change!"

His hands flew into the air as his frustrated yells of regret were lost to the silent night. He then exasperatedly brought his arms back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands. His body shook as he took in deep breaths, trying his best not to shed any tears. He was just so frustrated with himself.

"I thought you would dodge it," His muffled whimpers poured out. "You always dodged it."

It was then that you realized how cold you'd been to the boy. You were so caught up in your own hurt and anger, only concerned with making him feel as horrible as you had with your hurtful words. Not once had you considered that he was already kicking himself ten times harder for the pain he'd caused you. He really hadn't meant to hurt you.

And that's when you did something unexpected. In an impulsive attempt to comfort him, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a hug. His breath hitched, obviously shocked by the gesture, his body going stiff.

"I understand now, I forgive you, Zuko."

At those seven words he melted into your embrace, returning it as he wrapped his arms around your figure. His chin now rested on top of your good shoulder, as he was being extra cautious as to not press on your burns.

"And I'm sorry, for what I said about you and your uncle. He'd be proud of you."

His grip on you tighten, mumbling out a 'thank you,' in the process, finally feeling as though he could fully begin healing from all the wrong he'd done.

-

TAGLIST: @theepartygetsmewetter  

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Victoria’s boobs

Description | Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

Content | fluff

Pairing | Victoria x gn!Reader

Word Count | 2420

Some situations in life simply could not be dealt with without a strong cup of coffee. Heading out to an exam, waking up to a text from that ex who still grinds your gears, missing your train, and being late for work ... You, however, thought you were doing fine today, mood high and excited for the day ahead. You had slept in and left the hotel at a reasonable time. You’d do what you loved - make-up - and then watch the band play a kickass show. No additional kick needed to pump you up or help you deal with the hours ahead. You changed your mind the second you opened the dressing room door and came face to face with Victoria's tits. Actually - scratch that - you would need a drink to deal with this.

"Y/n! Finally! I need you, come here." While Victoria's face brightened up considerably as her eyes met yours, a smile spreading on her gorgeous lips, you could feel your cheeks heating up. She didn't seem to notice or mind, instead grabbing your hand and dragging you further into the room. Your bag slid off your shoulder, unceremoniously hitting the ground and staying there, forgotten and in the way. "If Damiano keeps ripping off the tape one more time to readjust, he's going to take my nipple off."

"Hey!" He objected. "I'm just trying to improve your boobs, lady!"

"You can't improve perfection, Damiano."

The bickering gave you a moment to evaluate the scene before you. The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere and a stylist bustling around, trying to keep the damage to a minimum. Ethan was currently admiring his reflection in the mirror, hands running through his hair, while Thomas kept rummaging around the chaos. And right before your eyes, Victoria, in satin trousers but topless, with Damiano still trying to fix the cross he had put across her left nipple, as Vic kept slapping his hand away.

"Honestly, babe, I need you," she pleaded as your eyes managed to remove themselves from her bare chest and met hers instead. "I can't do it myself because when I try to do it in the mirror it looks weird when I put my arms down. And Damiano just about managed one cross that doesn't look wonky as hell after about 43 attempts."

"I did not need 43 attempts! I was just trying to -"

"Stop it!" Vic slapped his hand away once more, harshly enough for the sound to echo. "Go gel your hair or something, I've got Y/n now."

"I'm your make-up artist, not -" You didn't quite know how to finish your sentence. You weren't what? Victoria's personal boob inspector? Professional nipple-taper?

"Exactly, which means you've got an eye for aesthetic, so please put this tape on me."

You couldn't refuse Vic either way. Not when she was staring at you with those impossibly blue eyes, silently begging for your help. With a sigh, you grabbed the tape out of her hand, slowly unrolling a bit. You had only known her for a little while, but well enough to be aware that she wouldn't back down. Vic was already reaching for a pair of scissors, but you were quicker, tearing the piece of tape off with your teeth.

"Sexy, but scary," Victoria concluded. "But mainly sexy."

You didn't have the mental capacity to deal with what she had just said. Actually, you didn't have the capacity to deal with what you were about to do, but that was a pill you'd simply have to swallow. You hoped your shaky fingers weren't giving you away, as you crouched to eye-level with Vic's boob.

You had never much thought about the feminine beauty of a naked woman's chest before, but your current angle was making you question all your past convictions.

Maybe you were into girls after all.

Maybe you were just into Victoria. It was a thought that had been lingering in the back of your mind for a while now.

As your fingers lightly touched her skin, careful to get the placement just right, she flinched. You looked up, gazes meeting, and for a second there was something in her eyes you couldn't quite pinpoint, but it was gone before you had a chance to reflect on it. Instead, she giggled, "It's way too hot for your hands to be this cold."

Way too hot indeed.

You tried to make quick work of the task ahead and not to stare at her breasts too intently. Not to touch her soft skin too obviously. Not to let your beating heart get the better of you.

"I knew you'd get it perfectly!" Victoria exclaimed, turning towards the mirror and examining her now partly covered boobs. "You just got that kind of eye, Y/n. Thank you so much."

She had thrown her arms around you before you could react. It shouldn't have come as much of a surprise, Vic always being a rather touchy person by nature, but this time she was half-naked, her chest pressed against your shirt. Your arms carefully wrapped around her back, briefly letting yourself enjoy the feeling of silk-like skin under your fingertips, then quickly letting go and taking a step back. Your heart had gone from beating to straight-up racing. You were in so much trouble.

"I'll just put on the rest of my outfit and then you can do my make-up, yeah?" Her eyes shone at you in gradients you hadn't seen before. All you could do was nod dumbly, knowing that nothing was ever going to be the same again.

***

You hadn't meant to go out drinking with the band, you really really hadn't, yet here you were, sitting in a dark corner of some trendy bar in the middle of Berlin, trying to duck out of every video they filmed for Instagram and sipping on your drink. The mood was euphoric and everyone kept singing along to the songs playing in the background, but you kept to yourself. Your mind was still spinning with images of Victoria, memories of her skin on yours, and the fact that she was standing in front of you right now didn’t help. She was beauty personified.

“Y/n! Dance with me!” Victoria pulled you out of my thoughts as she pulled you up into a standing position.

“Vic, no one is dancing in this bar.”

“So?”

She had never been much impressed with what other people were doing. You quickly downed the rest of your drink, handing the glass to Damiano, who sent you a conspicuous wink. Whatever that was supposed to mean. You were still standing a little awkwardly when Victoria took your hand and twirled you around, a heavy slap to the bum hitting you while your back was towards her.

“Come on, Y/n, let loose!”

The shock of her actions only lasted a split second, before you broke out into giggles and let her pull you further into her. Her arms wrapped around your neck, trying to move you to a beat that was much too fast to be this close and entangled. You didn’t mind. Hell, you decided, you would never mind anything she did to you ever again. You didn’t even take notice of Damiano, Ethan, and Thomas dancing along around you, too focused on the way Vic was holding you and pressing you against herself. You couldn’t tell anymore if the elation you were feeling was because of the drink you’ve had or because she was looking at you the way she was. In the heat of the moment, you pushed a strand of her from her face, fingers lightly trailing along her cheek. Her mouth was on yours in an instant, pressing a bold kiss against your lips, but it was over before it started and suddenly her body wasn’t pushed up against yours anymore and you felt lost and cold. Victoria was now slinging her arms around Thomas’ neck instead, leaving a similar kiss on him, before giving Ethan and Damiano the same treatment.

Your heart couldn’t decide if it wanted to keep beating or start breaking.

***

The next days were pure torture. It didn’t help that Victoria had developed a newfound love for going bra-less - and an appreciation for you taping her up. Her behaviour wasn’t much better. You bent over to pick something up? Slap on the butt. She walked by you? No way she wasn’t going to brush past you in some way. Sitting on the couch? She was cuddled up to you in a heartbeat, face mushed into your neck, her breath softly tickling your skin.

Pure torture.

It all came crashing down the night Victoria decided to shake up the hotel room arrangement. She would usually room with Damiano, while you shared with other members of the team that worked behind the scenes. Until you were all gathered in the lobby of your hotel for the night and she loudly announced she was sick of listening to Damiano snore every night - “What the hell, I’ve never snored in my life?!” - and instead was going to sleep with you. Sleep with you. You didn’t miss the looks and snickers of the others as she phrased it exactly like that.

You didn’t have a choice, really. You simply weren’t the type of person to protest - and Vic knew. So you followed her up in the elevator, down the corridor, and into the room like a lovesick puppy, internally debating whether you were dreading this or looking forward to it. As soon as you had both dropped your luggage, she disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You didn’t miss the fact that she did not even attempt to close the door.

Two single beds. You breathed a sigh of relief. No awkward there-was-only-one-bed situation. Or maybe you felt a bit of disappointment. Maybe- No. This needed to stop. You were going crazy. You were supposed to do a job on this promo tour, be professional, maybe make friends with the band if you were lucky, but instead, you were falling deeper and deeper and it all ended with the fact that you had never felt this way about anyone else. It pained you to think that Victoria wasn’t feeling the same. And she definitely wasn’t - you were sure of that. She was a flirty person, she liked to touch and kiss those around her, but none of it went deeper than that. And you were going to have to accept it for what it was.

You were still in the middle of convincing yourself of not feeling anything more than friendship for Victoria when she emerged from the bathroom. Wearing nothing but a pair of panties. It was in that moment you knew you would never get over her.

“VIc, you need to stop doing this.”

Her face fell immediately, going from overly cheeky - which seemed to be her default expression these days - to genuinely concerned. Concerned, and confused. She was by your side in an instant, holding you by your upper arms, seemingly searching your face for answers.

“Do what?”

The direct question was filled with a softness that almost brought tears to your eyes. For a second you contemplated taking it back, changing the topic, and ignoring how emotionally draining the past days had been, but one look into her eyes told you that you needed to be honest with her. Now or never.

“You need to stop touching me. You need to stop riling me up at every opportunity, you need to stop teasing me and brushing up against me because-” The words seemed trapped in your throat. Victoria had moved away, immediately adhering to your request to stop touching you and you hated it. You wanted her hands back on you, you wanted all of her on you. One more deep breath. “Because I cannot stop thinking about kissing you. And I’m not talking about a little friendly peck. I’m talking about kissing the ever-loving shit out of you now and forever.”

It happened so fast. Victoria was on you before you had even finished your last words, lips pressed to yours in a heated and hurried manner, arms wrapping around you to press her body against yours. You reacted as if on autopilot, as if your body knew what to do simply because it had been waiting for it. Your hands tangled themselves in her hair as you responded eagerly to her kiss, before running them down her cheeks and to her neck.

This was nothing like the time she kissed you in the bar in Berlin. That time didn’t even come close to what was happening now. If your heart had been beating before, it was pounding out of your chest now. You thought that for as long as she promised to put her mouth on yours anytime you asked, you would be invincible.

The kiss ended rather slowly. A few pecks and staying close, breath fanning on each other’s faces, eyes still shut for a while until you two managed to separate. Victoria’s smirk was back, tenfold and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Imagined anything like that?”

“You know I did,” you admitted, feeling slightly shy all of a sudden.

“Honestly, though,” Vic said, brushing your hair from your face in the most tender motion. “I’m sorry I put you in a weird position. I think my way of flirting just didn’t work on you.”

“Oh, it worked alright,” you laughed. “I just wasn’t sure you meant it that way. Especially when you kissed me that night and then proceeded to kiss everyone.”

“Yeah, that wasn’t clever. I think I was just scared because you didn’t react so I tried to play it off.”

Victoria pushed another kiss onto your lips, sweet and short and full of reassurance, then promptly hugging you with a force that sent both of you tumbling onto one of the beds. Laughing with all your heart, you pushed her off you but made sure she never strayed too far. You couldn’t help but be amused at the state you were both in, faces heated up and giggly, you fully clothed while Victoria was still lounging in nothing but a pair of black panties.

“For God’s sake, Victoria put some clothes on,” you mocked her, even though you both knew there was no reason for you to mind it anymore.

“You know, I think it’s quite fitting,” she contemplated instead. “It started and ended with my boobs out.”

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 3; Need To Know

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Chapter 3!! Yay! I will not lie I got kind of lazy and burnt out when I finally got to the smut scene, and for that I am sorry. I’ll make it up to you guys with a future chapter.

Summary; Reader can’t get her mind off of Spencer, which causes distractions at work. Until one day when he catches on.

Category; Smut (Minors DNI!!!)

Content Warnings; Swearing, Kissing, Mentions of masturbation, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (Male receiving), Drinking, Mentions of being shot, Kinda Sub!Spencer, Virgin!Spencer (but not by the end of it)

Word Count; 7.2k

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‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

Spencer Reid. The object of my attraction, the man I fell harder for with every stolen glance I could manage to throw his way. I was obsessed, and that infatuation only grew stronger every day that I saw him at work.

When we went out to bars after cases we ended up in an inevitable game of Never Have I Ever like a bunch of high school kids. With Emily and Derek in the group it almost always turned sexual. It started with innocent things such as; Never have I ever kicked down a door -- to which Derek drinks. There were some targeted jabs, I got Spencer a few times when I brought up an activity I was certain he had done -- just to keep him involved.

However he never drank past that. He never took a sip when Emily made a sexual innuendo, or when she brought up one night stands, number of partners, most bizarre location to engage in intercourse. Nothing of the sort got him to break. I figured he was a private guy, never one to boast about his sexual experiences.

It was frustrating, to say the least. It got to the point where I couldn’t think about anyone but him. I couldn’t engage in any sexual activity without my mind shifting to him, the way he might slip his fingers in and out of me, or how skilled he was with his mouth instead of the person I dragged home. No other person could even begin to compare to the remedy I concocted in my mind. I didn’t have any information to base my fantasies on, either.

I had it bad. So bad, that at one point I spilled hot coffee all over myself in the breakroom over the littlest interaction.

Spencer came in just after me, mumbling a small hello before reaching to grab a mug for himself. In the process of doing so his shirt rode up, exposing a small expanse of his lower stomach that had me sputtering as I clumsily missed my cup and instead poured the coffee all over the counter. It ran down and soaked through my pants; yet it wasn’t nearly as hot as the way I felt on the inside.

I couldn’t help but wonder the noises he’d make if I were to suck dark purple marks across that plain of skin...or if anyone ever had before.

The small burn was a fine price to pay for my inappropriate thoughts.

Him being the sweet guy that he is, offered to help me clean up. This proposal ended up with him taking paper towels and patting down my thighs -- not realizing just how suggestive the action looked to me.

“Sorry,” He whispered, looking up at my face from his position below me. He was kneeling on one knee, with a hand planted firmly on the outside of my thigh. His voice was soft yet raspy, and oh how I let my mind wander.

“Not your fault,” I said quickly, and borderline ran out the door before he could protest or add anything on.

I headed straight to the bathroom to wash my face, try and stop the effect he had on me from becoming too physical.

If I got that worked up over a small piece of skin showing, nothing could have prepared me for the first night we shared a hotel room.

I was in shambles all night, ever since the moment Hotch handed me a room card and explained we needed to double up.

Emily usually roomed with JJ, Hotch and Rossi got their own, and Derek refuses to bunk with Spencer -- if he could avoid it. Much to my luck, this time he did because Garcia was needed for this case, meaning she and Derek would be sharing.

Leaving me with Spencer.

I stood there helpless, eyes burning a hole into the place that Hotch was previously standing. I was panicking on the inside, my body going into fight or flight mode as I went through scenarios in my head.

I was 99% sure I would be embarrassing myself tonight.

“Hey,” Spencer said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped and shrieked a little bit, and slapped a hand over my heart. “Oh my god, Reid. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay.”

He nodded, eventually realizing that he was still indeed touching my shoulder. He dropped his arm, only to bring his hand back up to rub over his chin.

My eyes darted down to it, watching at the way his veins stood out. It wasn’t the first time I admired them, there were moments when he was going over maps with two fingers where I wondered what they would feel like on my-

“____?”

“What?” I asked, a little too loud for the setting.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry.”

“I said we should go inside,” he laughed softly, trying to sooth the tension.

I agreed, stepping past him to start walking to our room. I opened the door with trembling hands, wondering just how hard the following nights at the hotel would be.

“I’m gonna go see Emily and JJ. Ask if they wanna go to the bar,” I said quickly, throwing my bag down just inside the door.

“Oh. Okay. Have fun! Don’t stay out too late. You should get a full night’s sleep.”

“I won’t be long. Don’t wait up!” I called, not looking back to see him before half jogging out of the room.

-----

“I cannot go back in there.”

“Oh, because of your little crush,” Emily laughed, much too loud for the early hours of the morning.

Clearly Spencer’s advice about coming back early didn’t plant itself in my head.

“Yes, because of that,” I confirmed. I was staring down at my drink, wallowing in self pity. It was too awkward to even step foot in there, I’m sure just by the sight of him I’d explode.

“What is it about him that gets you hot and heavy?” JJ teased. “No shame, just curious.”

I fake laughed, ignoring her question.

Everything he did was so intoxicating. Even the most mundane things got my blood pumping hard. Each time he let a small gasp through his lips or when he would whisper to himself, a shockwave went through me, igniting a fire deep inside that was near impossible to put out.

But he was so oblivious. He hadn’t a single idea of the effect he had on me. And that was the most frustrating part.

The first time I noticed my extreme attraction to him was shortly after I joined the team, it was only the third or fourth case I’d had with them. Spencer and I walked to a coffee shop to grab some for everyone, and on the way back he was infodumping.

About what, I can’t remember, for I was too fixated on the way his hands wrapped around his cup as he talked. He’d wave it around, and in doing so his fingers would trace little patterns onto the outside of it. I didn't mean to stare, I just got distracted.

I started noticing more little things after that.

Like the way he licked his lips while deep in thought, his mind consuming him to the point where he looked so concentrated and determined. It was hot, to put it simply. I wanted nothing more for him to be licking my lips, to feel him take such care with my body.

He had always been attractive in my eyes, the young boy was nothing but pretty. Even when his hair was shorter and he gelled it back, pairing the look with his glasses -- that he unfortunately wore less often nowadays.

It was nearly painful to be around him all day every day. My head would constantly be spinning with anxiety, only causing more and more headaches to present themselves. It was like a punishment, one I certainly deserved for the tasteful thoughts I had during work hours.

My crush went from an innocent little thing, to full fledged fascination.

‘I just been fantasizin' (size)

And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

Avoiding him as much as I could seemed like a decent plan at the time. If I kept my interactions low, I could distract myself with other things, and not focus on the way his lips pursed as I conversed with him. I raced up more time staring at his mouth rather than completing actual work by my six month stay at the BAU.

“I’m so fucked,” I nodded, coming to a bit of peace with my downfall.

“Well, you could be. If you told him how you feel,” JJ encouraged.

“No way in hell,” I protested, shooting my head up to make eye contact with her.

“____, there is a very, very high chance he feels the same. And if he doesn’t -- which he does -- he’s too sweet to let that impact your friendship.”

“We hardly even have a friendship. Whenever he tries to talk to me I end up running away. He probably thinks I hate him or something. He probably wants nothing to do with me.”

No objection from Emily or JJ there.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Emily asked, changing the pace of the conversation.

“He never speaks to me again. I die of embarrassment.”

“You’re both adults, ____.”

“We are 27!” I shook my head, exasperated. “I hardly even feel like one sometimes.”

“27, exactly. I’m sure by now Reid has gained some experience with talking to women. You’ll be fine.”

“I have absolutely no way of knowing how things will go.”

“Just give him little tests,” JJ suggested. “Like touch him. On the shoulders, compliment him more, really go up to him and make a move. That way if he doesn’t feel the same you can play it off as being platonic.”

I groaned and rested my head on the table dramatically. “You both kinda suck at advice. What am I supposed to do? Waltz into our shared room and confess my love for him? Ask him desperately to dick me down?”

Even though I definitely wanted to.

They laughed at that, saying they were going to bed and wished me luck. Emily advised I should try and ‘get some’ from somebody else, and maybe that would take my mind off of things.

After stalling some more I eventually made my way back to the hotel room, hoping that Spencer was already asleep so I wouldn’t have to face him. But once again, luck wasn’t in my favour.

“Hi,” he spoke softly from his bed.

“Why are you still awake?” I asked, trying my best to stifle a yawn. I threw my sweater down on my bed, before grabbing my go-bag and retrieving my pyjamas from it. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I wanted to make sure you got back okay.”

“I told you not to wait up. Naughty boy,” I joked, finally turning my attention fully over to him.

Which could've been a mistake, based on the way you saw it.

He was dressed in flannel pants and a black t-shirt, along with his hair tied up that I’d failed to notice earlier. I froze at the sight, seeing the way his cheeks were dusted a slight red, and lips pink as ever.

His hair was tied up, and I almost dropped dead at the sight. I’d never seen it before. Sure, he sometimes wore an elastic band on his wrist during the work days but never have I seen him actually use one.

“I’m gonna shower and then head to bed,” I said in an effort to keep my voice steady.

He didn’t respond, only turning his head back to the book that was in his hand.

Thankfully when I returned he was asleep, meaning I didn’t have to see him before bed.

The next day was torturous. I couldn’t get the image of him out of my head. The view of him so relaxed on his bed was ethereal, the soft glow of the lamp hand illuminated his skin in all the right places. Did he pull his hair back often? Did he casually sit at home with it up? How did he look in different angles or positions? Are there other things he wears or does that I haven’t seen?

The image was just so domestic that I couldn't stop thinking about it even if I wanted to.

I was afraid to fall asleep, in fear that my dream may turn adventurous. Quitting my job and moving to a new city seems more preferable than having a sex dream about your coworker while they were in the room.

I was hyper aware of every move he made, always keeping tabs on him in the back of my mind so we wouldn’t accidentally run into each other.

Apparently when I was paying attention on how not to see him, I failed to notice how he had filled out recently. He wore looser pants in the past, ones that didn’t allow much shape to show through.

The next day at the precinct I was in for a surprise though, one that was sure to make me fall to my knees.

And I would have, if it wasn’t for the fact I was already seated in a chair.

Spencer walked in clad in pants that were far too tight to be appropriate for work. Or maybe I was overreacting.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath, soaking in his appearance of the day.

It was hot outside, so he decided not to wear his usual vest and tie combo, choosing instead just a white pattern button up and grey tie.

I heard Emily snicker beside me, which earned her a light kick in the calf to shut her up. She got up then, winking at me dramatically before leaving the room to presumably go check in with Derek.

“Hey ____, can you come here for a sec?”

I got up without a word, and walked over to the other side of the room where he was standing at the map hung up.

He went off about the unsub’s possible comfort zone -- things that I’d need him to repeat later because I wasn’t fully listening,

I stayed leaning against the table, just two feet behind him which gave me a perfect view of just how tight those pants really were. They hugged his hips deliciously, I wanted nothing more than to rip them off in that moment. I nodded along dumbly, changing my sight from his ass to his back, to his toned arms that were shown off from him rolling up his sleeves.

It was a fair sight, I don’t really think I could be blamed for staring.

A few weeks after that he got a haircut. His longer curls were gone -- yet not forgotten -- and were replaced with a mop of messy waves that framed his face perfectly.

It was like a new blow to my stomach every time I got used to the change.

“New haircut?” I asked the obvious on the first day back from a long weekend.

“Yeah...thought I should change it up,” Spencer replied, picking up his coffee mug to make himself a cup.

I nodded, the room settling in a short silence.

“Do you not like it?”

“No!” I exclaimed, Spencer furrowing his brows in response. “I mean, yes. I do like it. Sorry.”

“Oh, okay,” he laughed. “Thank you.”

“You could pull off any hairstyle, trust me,” I said, before walking back to my desk.

People that we met seemed to feel the same, because he got stopped more often at bars and at shops that were needed to visit. People would give him their numbers, leaving him a blushing mess. It got obnoxious, to the point where I was at my breaking point. My shoulders were always slumped, and my forehead creased with jealousy.

I stayed closer to him when the team went out, in an effort to get other girls to stop making moves on him.

They hadn’t noticed his beauty before, why should they get the privilege to advance on him now?

It was selfish, really. It may have been good for his self-confidence, but not so good for my own feelings.

I made sure to compliment him more often, telling him I liked his sweater vests, and ‘oh my Doctor Reid, is that a new tie?’ It was a win-win really, for both of us. I was building up my comfort level with him, and he knew that I did not, in fact, despise him.

When Spencer got shot on a case a few weeks later, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show him that I care about him.

It was an easy job, since the bullet only semi-grazed his shoulder blade. Only needed deep cleaning once a night, for a few weeks so it wouldn’t get infected.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a groan, one that sent shivers throughout my veins.

“Sorry,” I answered quickly, keeping my gaze on the task at hand and not on his face that was just so close to mine.

Here I was in Spencer’s apartment, in his bathroom, helping him clean off his wound.

“I’m sorry but you need to stop moving, it’s just making things worse,” I explained.

“It hurts!”

“I’m sure it does! But I can’t do an effective job in cleaning it if you keep thrashing around like that.”

I saw him pout, and lower his head. The gears in his brain were turning, trying to come up with a possible solution.

“You’re going to need to hold me down.”

“What?!”

“I’m not gonna be able to stop moving,” he said, looking over his shoulder to where I was sitting behind him on the floor. “Come on.”

He stood up and left the room, gesturing for me to follow. And I did, collecting the supplies I’d need as he led me over to his living room.

Before I could protest he removed his shirt fully -- not like how it was bunched up by his neck previously.

I stopped in my tracks, eyes taking in every inch of skin that he freed. He was lean, as I predicted, but still toned in areas.

Spencer laid on his stomach down on the couch, motioning for me to come beside him.

“Get on my back.”

“Are you insane?”

“____,” he pleaded, looking up at me. His arms were crossed by his head, he was using them as a makeshift pillow. “I just want this to be over as fast as it can be.”

Right.

“Okay,” I agreed, and began to place my materials down on the coffee table to my right. I then swung a leg over his lower back, straddling him just how I’d imagine doing so before -- only the other way around. “Is this okay?”

He hummed, digging his face as far into the fabric of the couch as he could.

‘I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby

Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will)’

I took that as a yes, and poured some of the disinfectant onto a swab. Bracing myself with a hand on his other shoulder to pin him down firmly he shivered, breath shaking ever so slightly. I tried to catch him off guard with the swab, choosing a random time to press it into his wound.

He was definitely surprised, because he whined loudly into his hands and clenched all of the muscles in his back.

I couldn’t help but wonder if he made similar noises during other activities…

“Just a minute more,” I soothed him, running my free hand over the smooth skin of his back, doing my best to calm him down.

His breathing only became heavier, and was nearly shaking from the burn. I felt bad, having to see him go through this but I’d be lying if it wasn’t doing things to me. I couldn’t help but get a little bit excited when I got the chance to be near him, to be closer than we had ever been before.

It was intense, I was almost sure he could feel my arousal through the fabric of my pants and underwear.

I was an awful person.

Going home that night to sleep was a struggle. I felt guilty, for using his pain for my perverse temptations. Yet as soon as my fingers were buried inside myself I couldn’t stop myself from imagining him above me. The way he might sound, spewing out similar noises that I’d experienced earlier that were still fresh in my brain.

I wasn’t proud of it, and I thought every one of our interactions after that would be even harder.

Going back to work seemed fully impossible, I didn’t have any hope in myself to stay useful while he was parading around, completely oblivious to the effect he had on me. I became more sexually frustrated every day. It was nearly infuriating to see a look of innocence plastered on his face, meanwhile he would do things that made me go crazy.

‘Wanna know what it's like (like)

Baby, show me what it's like (like)

I don't really got no type (type)

I just wanna fuck all night’

“Penelope, I think I might die soon if I don’t get laid,” I said, rapidly opening the door to her cave.

“____-”

“No, I’m serious. I can’t get my mind off of-”

I stopped in my tracks, finally noticing the presence I hadn’t already accounted for.

Spencer sat in a chair to my left, just out of view that you couldn’t see him if you didn’t turn your head. He was in the middle of bringing a chip up to his mouth, but was stopped mid-air with his mouth hanging open.

“Sorry,” he said, scrambling up fast, bumping into things as he collected his satchel with shaky hands. “Sorry I’ll go.”

The door shut with a slam, and left Penelope and I in silence.

“Well, fuck,” I whispered, earning a booming laugh from her. “It’s not funny.”

“It is funny. It’s hilarious,” she giggled, doing a little spin on her chair.

I groaned, and sat down beside her on the edge of her desk.

“Maybe now he’ll make a move on you.”

“Oh shut up,” I slapped her arm, beginning to laugh along with her. “If he was avoiding me before, I’m sure he’ll never speak to me again.”

Ever since I helped Spencer with his injury the first time he’d been semi ignoring me, not trying to actively partake in conversation. We only talked when necessary, but didn’t exchange any extra words when I came over for an hour to help him with his wound.

I was almost happy about that, it meant I didn’t have to embarrassingly throw myself at him all day long.

I was perfectly fine admiring him from a distance, just how I’d done so for years.

However, there was a part of me that was rightfully sad. Did I cross a line, or make him feel uncomfortable? Maybe from spending so much time together recently he gathered I really wasn’t that interesting.

“Don’t say that,” Penelope frowned.

“Why not? It’s the truth,” I shrugged.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?”

“How I feel?”

“Don’t even try and wedge your way out of it. Emily told me, don’t be mad,” she said, with the sweetest look on her face that I couldn’t be upset.

“Bitch,” I playfully mumbled.

“Besides you literally were about to say that you can’t get your mind off of him.”

“Uh, no, I was not. I was going to say someone. A general someone. Not Reid.”

She hummed, turning back to her screen to finish up some work Hotch had sent her to do.

“Okay fine. Pen, I’m gonna die. It’s insufferable. I can’t handle it anymore.”

“That’s exactly why you should tell him!” She encouraged excitedly, always a swooner for young love.

“I would scare him. He’s probably scared of me, actually.”

“Oh come on, I’m sure his little virgin heart can take it.”

“What?” I asked, suddenly giving her all my attention. “Virgin? Is he seriously a virgin?”

“I don’t know, truly. I just kinda figured. He doesn’t talk about anyone or anything to do with sex.”

I nodded. That makes sense. With him radiating pure sex appeal in my eyes, the thought never even crossed my mind that he might be a virgin.

But that just made it all the more exciting.

“But hey, if he’s really a 27 year old virgin I’m sure he’s extremely horny,” she laughed.

“We are at work. Let’s calm it down before I actually combust,” I shook my head.

My palms were sweating at the very thought of him doing anything remotely sexual -- which I thought about a lot. Surely he’s had to at least...taken care of himself. I’m sure it was a gorgeous sight, his hand wrapped firmly around his dick and face contorted in nothing but pleasure.

My thoughts were interrupted by none other than the man himself, who barged into the room to say we were taking off for a case in 30.

The flight there was quiet and boring, we left at night so there wasn’t so much we could do when we got there besides head up to our hotel.

“We’re sharing a room,” Spencer said, walking over to me from where he was previously with Derek.

I was standing in front of the vending machine, doing my very best to not eavesdrop on the mens’ conversation, which was only taking place about 20 feet away. Spencer was speaking in a hushed yet agitated tone, and Derek was matching his energy. It seemed they were bickering, but about what I didn’t know.

“Says who?” I panicked.

“Uhh...Hotch did.”

Great.

“Oh. Alright,” I followed him down the hallway, our room was the last one at the end.

I waited for him to open the door, and when he stepped out of the way to let me inside I brushed past him.

When I turned around Spencer was standing there blocking my path, causing me to bump into his chest.

“Hello...” I said confused, taking a step back.

“I…”

“What?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows. “Spencer what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words, instead reaching up to push a piece of hair out of my face. My breath hitched at the contact, sending me into a short frenzy on the inside. He was inching closer, now his body was getting just close enough so that I could feel the heat radiating off of him. He was glancing back and forth between my eyes, searching my face for an expression of discomfort.

He didn’t find any.

“I was talking with Derek. About you,” he whispered. “He said you’ve been coming on to me.”

My heart nearly missed a beat at his words.

“I've noticed your odd behaviour, you don’t act the way you do with anyone else on the team. You run away from me, and at first I thought you just didn’t like me, but now...I think it’s the opposite. I see the way you look at me, you know.”

“And how do I look at you?” I questioned nervously.

“Like you want me. Tell me. Who were you talking about earlier today? Who exactly can’t get your mind off of?”

I paused, eyes almost bulging out of my head at the implication.

“If I'm reading this wrong, let me know. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Get on the bed and take your clothes off.”

He did just that, moving beside me to shove his pants down his legs, followed by ripping off his shirt, as I did the same. We couldn’t take our eyes off of each other, too busy drinking in our appearances to think straight. He sat down on the edge of the bed in just his underwear, and spread his legs just wide enough to give me space to stand between them.

“Tell me what you want.” he breathed, watching me as I walked towards him.

“You,” I answered simply, climbing into his lap and connecting my mouth was his. “All of you.”

He didn’t protest, only doing quite the opposite. He moaned greedily into my mouth, sucking every last bit of life out of me. He was hungry in his movements, not allowing for a single beat of fresh air for either of us. I was more than happy to return the energy, for I’ve dreamt for too long about what he might taste like. And it wasn’t disappointing, the sensation was far better than I could have ever cooked up in my head.

After a minute he became impatient, and started bucking his hips up to meet mine. I did the same, grinding down on his hardening dick that felt...impressive to say the least.

“I’ve thought about you for so long,” I spoke against his lips, taking a break between kisses.

He groaned back at me, moving his hands from my cheeks down to my hips to hold me flush against himself. He whimpered when I was fully against him, he had to break away to keep his breathing somewhat managed.

“Please, I need you so bad. I’ve thought about you too.”

“What exactly did you think about?” I asked quietly, trailing kisses all across his face, and then started heading down his jaw and neck.

“L-lots of stuff.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, looking up at him from my new position kneeling on the floor. “Please, tell me.”

I brought a hand up to his boxers, ghosting just over his bulge while remaining eye contact.

“Everything. All of you. ____, Please.”

‘You're exciting, boy, come find me

Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me"’

“Let me do something first,” I said, pushing against his stomach to encourage him to lie back on the bed. He did so, propping himself up on his forearms to look down at me.

He watched my every move, not a second was missed by his eyes that stayed locked onto my form. I dropped my head down to kiss across his left thigh, and toyed with the waistband of his underwear with my right hand.

He was so vocal, and I hadn’t even done anything yet. I knew we had all night, but I’d waited too long for this to take my time.

‘And we got a lotta time (time)

Baby, come throw the pipe (pipe)’

I pulled his underwear down just enough to reveal his dick hard and red as it stood up against his stomach.

“You don’t...have to,” Spencer stopped me before I could carry on.

“Do you not want me to?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s just…” He stopped, and bit his lip while staring off to one of the walls.

“Has anyone ever done this with you before?” I asked, almost unsure of whether or not I wanted the answer.

“Done what...exactly?” he asked, refusing to look back at me. His cheeks were red in embarrassment, and he was too focused on the distance to see the wave of excitement that flashed over my face.

“Spencer,” I said sharply, prompting him to turn his attention back to me. “Are you a virgin?”

His lack of answer told me enough. He blushed impossibly deeper, and started squirming in place. Just as he was about to speak up for himself I stopped him with, “That’s so fucking hot.”

“What?”

I climbed back up his body, just far enough so that I could grab his jaw in my hand and pull him down to meet my lips. It was even more hungry and passionate than the previous ones we shared, full of such fire I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to kiss anyone else ever again.

“You’re so sexy,” I moaned, hot and needy into his mouth.

He was good, which wasn’t unexpected from my end. His lips were always so plump and pink, they just had to be semi skilled.

“Thank you,” he replied, in a typical Spencer Reid fashion.

“Do you want to stop? Or keep going? Take a minute and think about it. I don’t want to pressure you,” I reassured him, but on the inside I was begging for him to want to continue.

He pulled back for a second, running a hand over the back of my head to keep me from going too far. His eyes were closed, focusing only on his breathing as he thought about his answer.

“I want to keep going. Please,” he decided on, nodding his head. “I just, I dunno, didn’t expect to get this far tonight.”

“Believe me, neither did I,” I smirked, smashing my lips back against his and returning to my spot kneeling between his legs. I pushed him back harder than before, sending a small oof sound from his chest as his back hit the mattress.

“Has anyone ever touched you here?” I asked, finally wrapping my hand around his dick,

It only made sense that a pretty boy like him would have a pretty cock, too.

“O-only once,” he breathed, with his head thrown back. He was staring at the ceiling, staring at the dots to distract himself from the feeling and to not come too soon. “Long time ago.”

“If you need me to stop, tell me,” I said, before licking a broad strip up the underside of his dick.

I paused at the head, swirling my tongue around before continuing my mission back down around the other side. I kissed his base, leaving more near his hips. He whined positively -- probably feeling a little ticklish -- and I took that as a good sign to suck a deep purple mark there.

Just like I’d thought about doing months ago.

I left a few more just up to his belly button, marking him up with the intent to claim him as my own. He’d see those marks for the next few days, and every time he would think of me on my knees for him. I kept pumping him in my hand as I did so, and every time I groaned into his skin his dick twitched with appreciation.

“Oh god,” Spencer moaned as I took him into my mouth unexpectedly, bunching up the sheets in his hands beside his hips.

I looked up to see him now staring down at me, jaw slacked and panting heavily. The sight was enough to elicit a moan from my own mouth, which led to him fluttering his eyes shut at the vibrations that shot through his body.

“Stop, stop!”

“What’s wrong?” I asked worriedly, immediately pulling up.

“Nothing, I just really want to feel you and I don’t think I can last much longer.”

Understandable.

I wasn’t expecting him to last long anyways, I just simply wanted him inside me.

“Do you happen to have a condom?” He shook his head. “I’m clean and on the pill. We should be fine. Is that okay?”

He mumbled an ‘uh huh’ as he watched me stand up, as I pushed my underwear down my legs. He immediately reached out to me, bringing me back in and starting placing kisses across my stomach and hips, mirroring what I was doing to him earlier.

“Good, because if you don’t fuck me right now I think I might die.”

‘Yeah-yeah, oh-whoa-whoa (oh, ooh, mmm)

Baby, I need to know, mmm (yeah, need to know)’

He laughed lightheartedly, fixing himself to be sitting up near the headboard. In the process he kicked off his boxers fully, along with his socks.

I followed after him, not letting him stray too far from my reach.

“I heard that women take longer to, erm, get ready,” he muttered into my skin, hiding his face in my neck. “Let me help you?”

“Please,” I whimpered, though I knew I was far from unprepared. I reached behind myself to unclasp my bra, and as soon as it fell down my shoulders Spencer attached his mouth to my left nipple. “Please touch me.”

He moaned into me, bringing his hand down to my core to run his fingers through my folds. He let his middle breach me, moving so agonizingly slow before curling his finger up. I moaned loudly, letting my eyes shut and body fall slack against him. His free arm wrapped around my waist, giving me the support I needed to stay upright.

“So that’s your g-spot?” He grinned against my skin, and I’d be damned to admit it affected me way more than it should have. He sounded so innocent, so eager to learn.

“Uh-huh.”

He explored my skin greedily, brushing over every inch of my chest he could reach. His thrusts became faster every time he re-entered me, encouraged by the grunt that fell from my lips with each one.

“Have you ever done this with a girl before?”

“No,” he replied, moving from my breasts to my collarbone, leaving a dark purple mark in his path.

“Could've fooled me,” I felt him smile against my neck at the praise -- duly noted.

He flipped us over swiftly -- much to my surprise -- and continued with his actions on both my clit and entrance. I did my best to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder to prevent any noises from leaking out to stop him from getting too cocky.

“Spencer,” I moaned, raking my fingernails up and down his back. “Stop. Please fuck me now, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you want to? We can stop,” he reassured me in a voice that seemed far too innocent for the activities taking place.

“Spencer, I’m sure. I’m so fucking sure you have no idea.”

I was so turned on I could cry, the pure want running through my veins was starting to send panic signals throughout my whole body. Before I could beg him any further he replaced his fingers with his dick, catching me off guard. He ran the tip over me for a few seconds before gliding in easily, with little to no restriction at all.

“Ah!” I called, gripping onto his shoulder for dear life.

“I’m so sorry, oh my god did I hurt you?” Spencer asked frantically, removing his weight from me and tried sitting up.

“No. God please move, I need you so bad,” I pleaded, pulling him back down before he could get too far away.

He nodded. He started slow. So slowly that I wanted to scream and beg at the top of my lungs for more. However I was above giving him the satisfaction of that -- at least for now.

“You feel so good,” Spencer panted, hips shaking as he slid in and out at a torturous pace.

I pulled his lips back to mine for another kiss, drinking in everything he was willing to offer. I whined every time his body rubbed against my clit in a way that had my toes curling and eyes rolling back.

“This is so much better than I’ve imagined,” I moaned, breaking free from his mouth to lay back against the pillows. I wrapped my legs around his waist, aiding him with the speed of his thrusts. “Please, Spence, oh my god go harder.”

He moaned loudly, and lowered his head to my collarbone in an effort to muffle some of the noises he was letting out.

He followed my directions well -- and I took notes for the future.

The sounds of him bouncing off the walls was amplifying my pleasure to a new degree, it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. His hips snapped forward impossibly faster, leaving him a whimpering mess above me. Our chests were pressed together, the sound of skin slapping and gliding over each other filled the dimly lit room.

“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered into his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses here and there.

He moaned freely at all of the praise, and every time I urged him on he’d pick up his speed a little bit. He was now moving faster than I thought I could handle, slamming into me at the perfect angle.

I felt him everywhere. In my stomach, insides of my thighs, chest -- where he was now palming at one of my breasts -- and the crook of my neck. I hugged my arms around his middle to keep him locked against me, preventing his hips from heavily backing out.

“I’m really close,” He groaned, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “S-should I pull out now?”

“No,” I demanded, tightening my legs to keep him trapped. “Come inside me.”

He nodded with a particularly loud moan, and snaked one hand down my body to meet my clit. When I gave a sound of approval he quickened his wrist, rubbing me with just the right amount of pressure to send me closer to the edge.

He came with a final shout in my name, resting his full body weight against me as I rocked my him against him to help him through it. I finished soon after, at the feeling of him releasing himself in me. It was so warm, like a comforting blanket that overtook all of my senses.

It was possibly the best orgasm I’d ever had, it was so profound that I couldn’t see, or focus on anything else.

We laid there for a few minutes, my hand running through his hair and his ghosting up the side of my hip. It took a while for us both to catch our breaths, we were too immersed in the moment to break apart from one another.

“That was literally the best sex I’ve had in my life,” I breathed, staring up at the ceiling.

“Same, but I don’t have anything to compare it to,” Spencer replied, and we both laughed weakly.

“That was okay for you? Your first time? Not really the traditional approach.”

“It was perfect. I wouldn’t have asked for anything different,” he pulled himself up with a smile, before pulling out and flopping down beside me.

“But seriously,” I sat up, resting my head on my palm to get a better view of him. “I’ve never been so attracted to someone as I am with you.”

“____,” he blushed. “I-”

“No! No, let me finish. Please.”

He nodded for me to go ahead.

“Not only are you just insanely sweet and so charming, you’re so handsome. Like I can hardly even look at you half the time. You drive me insane, Spencer you have no idea. Holy fuck I’ve never wanted someone so bad before I met you. You’re intoxicating. I can’t get enough. I’ll cringe about this later but I just need you to know.”

“This may not be the most common way...but do you want to go out with me? L-like on a date?” Spencer asked. He was blushing so heavily, his chest was painted pink and ears were turned red.

“You just came inside of me and you’re nervous about asking me on a date.”

“____!” Spencer exclaimed, facepalming himself.

“Yes,” I grinned. “I’d love to go out with you.”

-----

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[trentaafcsblog]

Midnight Memories

Mason Mount

This isn’t like him at all. Trapped in a crowd of drunk and disorderly people who are staggering around to the beat of the music, sloshing their drinks all over one another when the pink and purple strobe lights descend upon their bodies and start flashing in a series of random patterns, enhancing their alcohol-induced illusions and perceptions of the world as they flail their limbs around and claim they’re flying or walking on clouds - a stage that Mason isn’t willing to reach tonight, or any night, for that matter. 

A sea of girls in overly tight dresses and heels that barely support them crowding around him and slurring things in his ear. Running their fingers up his bare arms and begging for another drink as he awkwardly shakes his head and tries to break away from them, only for another person to grip onto him from the other side and smear their cheap sticky lipgloss all over his neck in an attempt to add ‘I kissed a footballer’ to their CV. “Just kiss meee” they whine, pouting in his face and trying to pull him closer before giving up and making a move on the next available man, one who’s willing to explore their mouths and buy them endless rounds of multicoloured shots for the rest of the night without gently shoving them away or not-so-subtly avoiding their alcohol-coated lips.

This isn’t your type of place either, although you’re five cocktails deep into the stack of pornstars that your friends insisted on ordering. A stain down the front of your white bodycon dress thanks to an escapee half a passion fruit that decided to leave your triangular glass in order to explore the vomit-tainted floor. Your lips all patchy now that your lipgloss has migrated to decorate the rim of your empty glasses with sparkly nude smudges, although you’re slightly relieved because it means that your hair won’t get coated in it anymore, and it minimises the evidence if you end up kissing someone too, not that you came here to do that, or risk putting yourself in the same category as the girls that are now trying to climb into the VIP section with a bunch of semi-famous people, all because they want a drunk kissing video to plaster across their social media, hoping that it takes them to the front of the papers in the morning for being such-and-such’s ‘mystery girl’.

You’re looking up at the VIP area cordoned off by security guards in black puffer jackets and walkie talkies in their hands, feeling an overwhelming sense of empathy for all of the people that have to tolerate that kind of behaviour. Your eyes start scanning across the section of the club that is far too expensive for just a few hours’ stay, wondering if you can recognise any famous faces, but it’s just the ‘I lasted one day in the Villa and still managed to secure a Pretty Little Thing brand deal’ Love Islanders and the friend of the friend of the friend of a semi-professional footballer that made one twelve minute appearance for Arsenal back in 2010 and thinks he’s God’s gift. All of them either eating each other’s faces or taking boomerangs of them cheers-ing their margaritas before having to retake the same video five times because they’ve lost several lime slices in the process and it’s ruining the aesthetic. Your focus sharpening on someone with their back to you and at least ten girls around them, taking it in turns to have a drunken selfie or begging him to buy them a bottle of champagne with one of those fancy sparkler things on the top that gets brought out by women wearing elaborate carnival-inspired feather headbands and very revealing dresses. And you can’t help but feel sorry for him because you can tell just from the back of his head that he’s incredibly uncomfortable, even more so when he gets offered a blowjob from a girl who’s now threatening to get her boobs out in exchange for a whole bottle of Don Julio, in a bucket of ice, just how she likes it.

He’s turning around to face the rest of the club just as you go to look away at the menu that’s being wafted under your nose by one of your friends, and you can’t help but do a double take at his familiarity. Squinting your eyes so that you can get a better look at his features. ‘Nice drink’ you think when your eyes catch the glass of Diet Coke in his hand, quite obviously not accompanied by a swig of vodka going by his incredibly tense frame and stiff dance moves. Well, it’s not really dancing, it’s more of a ‘I’ll just copy what my friends are doing so I don’t look awkward’ move, aka a two-step shuffle from one side to the other. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him from across the room, your friends completely giving up on trying to entice you with a selection of expensive cocktails as they leave you to stare at some random man on the other side of the club, their need for a second stack of bright coloured drinks clearly overriding the want to look out for their friend.

You’re watching him for a bit longer. Becoming completely fixated on this familiar stranger who you can’t help but sit and giggle at. Part of you wanting to cringe with him at how hellish this night has become, but at the same time, it’s kind of funny watching someone who should be so used to having a large following blush and laugh awkwardly if anyone happens to recognise him. Okay, maybe it’s slightly uncomfortable to sit and watch a swarm of girls attack him with their overdrawn lips whilst he does everything in his will to not shove them into next week, especially when his friends start laughing and taking little videos of the awkward encounters, clearly ready to embarrass him at a later date. But regardless, it’s nice to know that fame hasn’t gone completely to his head, unlike an ex-reality TV star who’s screaming ‘do you know who I am?’ at one of the bouncers who won’t let her hang out with her ‘friends’ in the VIP section.

But you’re quickly forced out of your trance when you feel somebody shoving something into your hand. Looking down at your palm and clocking the ten pound note before your eyes are lifting to the hand that it’s been given from. “Go and get us those cocktails” your friend slurs before slumping back in her seat and falling to one side slightly, her pink lipstick slathered all over her chin from where she’d tried to apply it without a mirror when a man wearing an extremely tight fitting top happened to settle down in the booth next to you, obviously hoping that he’d look her way. “Hurry up, I’m thirstyyy” your other friend whines, making you sigh and mutter something under your breath in reference to them being lazy and ruining your evening, as you slide out of the row of pink arched seats and stand up. Having to grip onto the back of the chairs when your legs go all warm and fuzzy from the one too many cocktails you’d already consumed, pulling your dress down to a more appropriate length before heading off in the direction of the bar. Trying to catch a glimpse of Mason as you swerve in and out of the sea of dancing bodies, but you just end up feeling as though you’re going to fall to the floor when the strobe lights start spinning on the ceiling before dispersing their blue and green beams around the room at the most ridiculous speed. Everybody around you swaying from side to side and elbowing you in the ribs as you try your best to dodge them, kicking yourself for wearing the most stupid pair of heels as your toes crush into each other more and more with each step, cursing when you skid in a puddle of what looks like - or at least you hope is - vodka, and you have to grab onto a stranger’s arm to steady yourself, much to their dismay until they catch a glimpse of your apologetic face and suddenly want to make out with you.

You’re breathing a sigh of relief when you finally make it to the bar, setting your bag down on the counter and ordering what you think your friends want, although you probably should have double-checked with them first considering you were too busy having a nosy at someone across the club to pay any sort of interest to their alcohol preferences. “What?” you’re shouting at the barman when he tells you the total of the drinks, hoping that you’ve misheard him but ten pounds clearly isn’t going to cover the cost of sixteen cosmopolitans with added shots of vodka. Panicking when he repeats the price and turns his back to get started on making them, your hands now frantically searching your bag in the hope that you manage to find the extra money before he starts yelling at you for ordering things without being able to pay. “Fuck” you’re hissing as you turn the contents of your bag out onto the countertop, checking the inside of your phone case and a pressed powder incase they happen to house the remaining money. Your heartbeat pounding louder in your ears the closer it gets to having to admit that you’ve actually only got a quarter of what you need. 

“I’ll get it” someone’s saying, clearly sensing the tension between you and the barman as you shrug your shoulders in response to him sticking his hand out for the money. “I’m not a charity” you snap back, your slightly tipsy state giving you a rush of confidence as you continue to search your bag in the hope that the money has magically appeared just so that you can laugh it off and shut everyone up. “I know, but it’s on me” they’re saying again, leaning forward and tapping their card on the machine before you can even consider fighting back a second time. “Thank-” you’re starting before realising who it is that’s just saved you from an incredibly awkward situation. Surely not. Surely Mason Mount hasn’t just bought you, of all people, a load of cocktails for your mates.

“It’s okay” he laughs nervously, making your heart melt because clearly he’s just as awkward around you as he is everybody else in this club. “Prices have gone up, haven’t they?” he smiles as he takes a step closer to you, propping himself up on the countertop with his elbows before asking the barman for a lemonade, with ice, just so it isn’t too fizzy. “Yeah, I don’t normally come out so I underestimated it a bit” you laugh shyly before looking off in the other direction, simultaneously cursing and thanking your friends for leading you to believe that you could get sixteen cocktails for a tenner, because without their stupidity, you wouldn’t be talking to the boy that you’ve been watching all night. “Prefer to stay at home then?” he asks as you turn back and nod your head. “Me too” he’s saying, “I’m normally in bed by now” he giggles as his gaze rises to the clock above the bar, the time reading 00.04am. The slight dark glow under his eyes letting you know that he’s normally tucked up by 9pm in his pyjamas. “What are you doing here then?” you ask. Stupid question really. He’s here for the same reason that you, and probably half of the people here, are - he’s been dragged along and forced to pretend that he’s a right party animal whilst he sips his non-alcoholic drinks and fights off every woman in sight. “My mates made me tag along, I’m kind of glad they did now though” he’s telling you, the second part of his sentence almost becoming inaudible as his voice quietens just as the volume of the music rises with the chorus of ‘My Yé Is Different’, ironic since you’ve just spotted the twenty grand watch decorating his wrist whilst you’re stood there in a passion fruit stained dress. But you’re still managing to hear it, and you can’t work out whether that’s in reference to you, or the fact that he’s been able to drink fizzy drinks when he’d normally only have water. Except you’re not stupid. 

“Bet you say that to everyone” you tease, gaining his attention again as he laughs nervously and shakes his head. “Only the special ones” he replies, which is true, but now you can’t help but wonder if his drinks have been accompanied by a few shots of something or another because those words and the sincerity of his tone aren’t a reflection of the awkward man you spotted ten minutes ago, let alone the fact that he clearly considers you to be one of these ‘special ones.’ “Yeah, yeah” you’re saying back, flicking your hair over your shoulder before taking a sip of one of the cocktails that are sat before you, still waiting to be taken back to your friends. “Got quite a few drinks for somebody that doesn’t go out much, no wonder you needed me to pay” he winks as you roll your eyes and blush at the thought of somebody having to give you a helping hand with the price. “This is my last one, I’m off in a minute cose I can’t keep up with everyone else” you’re shouting over the music, watching him throw his head back and laugh because he thought he was the only one in that position. “I’ll join you” he’s replying, thanking the barman for his drink before taking a sip through the straw. “Not the sort of thing you say to a girl after only knowing her two minutes, Mason” you’re teasing, studying his face as his eyes blow wide slightly and he shakes his head, quickly swallowing his lemonade before stuttering on his words. Unsure whether he’s panicking about you jokingly misinterpreting his comment, or if he’s uncomfortable over the fact that yet another girl knows his name, but either way, he’s laughing awkwardly when you tell him that you’re only messing. 

“I wouldn’t mind though” you say smugly, causing another nervous giggle to escape his lips. Your alcohol-induced confidence only adding to the butterflies that are already batting their wings against his rib cage, something about your slight feistiness and sarcastic sense of humour attracting him to you, even more so when he takes in how beautiful you still look despite being on the verge of your alcohol limit.

“Where are you going afterwards?” he’s asking once the lights have swivelled around in the opposite direction and the blush on his cheeks isn’t so evident. “I’ll just go to the chippy down the road and then get a taxi home” you’re telling him, looking down into the fluorescent pink concoction in your glass and feeling your stomach churn at how rough it’s going to make you feel in the morning. “Mind if I join you?” he’s asking as you look across at him in disbelief, watching as he downs the last few sips of his drink and stands the glass back on the countertop. Is this a dream or something? “Sorry, that was a bit forward...again” he panics, feeling a surge of anxiety run through his body incase he’s greeted with newspaper headlines in the morning about him unintentionally trying to latch onto girls that aren’t interested in him, even if half of the club know his name. 

“No, it’s fine, of course you can” you laugh, your cocktail glass almost slipping out of your grip thanks to the layer of sweat that is now developing across your palm. “I’ll just take these over to the girls and then I’ll be ready” you smile, looping the strap of your bag over your shoulder and grabbing as many glasses as you can, which really isn’t a wise move since you’ve partially lost all sense of coordination thanks to Mason’s ability to wipe any drop of confidence out of your body and replace it with nervous butterflies. 

“I’m off” you’re announcing once you’ve made your third trip back to the booth your friends are sitting in, their drunken reactions to your words making you giggle as you reach over them to grab your jacket. “Where are you goinggg?” one of them whines, gripping onto your leg and pouting before another one is drawn to the verge of tears at your confession. “I’m just tired” you nod, blowing them all a kiss and ensuring that they text you when you’re home as you turn around and head off towards the exit, not wanting to keep Mase waiting any longer. Praying that he’s stood just around the corner outside as he’d promised as you stagger across the dance floor and dodge a sea of flailing limbs and slurred shouts of ‘can I get your number?’. A sigh of relief forcing itself out of your nostrils when the ‘exit’ sign hanging above one of the fire doors becomes within touching distance and the bouncer in charge anticipates your departure, pushing down the grey bar across the middle of the door and letting it swing open, enabling you to step out into the night.

“There you are” you smile as you approach the back of his figure, his head kept down and a cap adding a nice accessory to his outfit, although it’s definitely worn as some form of disguise. “Hi” he’s smiling nervously when he realises that it’s you, a swarm of butterflies invading his tummy again when you link your arm through his and gently rest your head on the top of his shoulder - a move that you’re aware might push you into the same category as the other girls that have been after him all night, but your crippled feet and wobbly legs are grateful for the extra stability, even if your motivation to make that move takes you both by surprise. 

“Let me get this” you’re saying once you’ve made your way into the kebab shop, your arm dropping away from his as you gesture towards the table up against the front window. “You sure?” he’s asking, dipping his hand into his back pocket ready to pull his wallet out just incase, but you’re nodding and confirming that you’re more than capable of paying four-pound-fifty for a kebab and a couple of drinks - just as well really after the events earlier this evening. Giving him a small smile as he turns and heads off towards the table in the corner, his celebrity instincts kicking when he takes the seat right in front of the glass, conveniently covered by a sticker of the menu, and some extra protection offered from the back of his body. 

You’re setting the gold foam kebab box down on your table for two, along with two plastic forks, a bottle of water and a Fruit Shoot because you noticed him eyeing them up in the fridge when you came in. And it turned out to be one of the hardest decisions of your life trying to work out what flavour he wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol that was messing with your brain, making you think that he was more of an citrus guy than a berry one. Or maybe it was the fact that you were buying a child’s drink for a fully grown adult, a famous one too, who probably hasn’t had one for ten years, which only added to the pressure. Or maybe it was because you liked him and you didn’t want to ruin your chances by getting him the wrong flavour. But after flicking your gaze between the stack of bright coloured bottles and his body cowering away in the corner, you settled for the blackcurrant one, just because he looks like the type of person to play it safe - well, he is the type of person to play it safe, going by his Diet Coke and lemonade choices tonight. 

“This for me?” he’s asking as he picks the purple bottle up, smiling when you nod to confirm his answer. “How did you know this was my favourite flavour?” he’s questioning, a smug look appearing on your face as you shrug your shoulders and reply with ‘only the ‘special ones’ know that kind of information’. A giggle escaping his mouth at your words before he’s pulling the plastic lid off the drink and taking a sip, humming at the familiarity despite not having one since his seventh birthday party. “Still as good as they used to be” he’s saying, something about the additional happiness that’s now surging through his body after a drop of blackcurrant juice making your tummy fill with butterflies because he really is just the cutest, biggest child.

You’re both sitting in a comfortable silence as you pick at your shared kebab, trying to eat from separate ends so that you don’t cross any boundaries or run the risk trying to stab your forks into the same piece of chicken. But the fuzzy filter that the alcohol has brought to your eyes and the slight delay that it’s caused between your thoughts and your actions means that you find yourself diving into the last piece of pitta bread just at the same time that Mason does. And from his side it’s a poor judgement call. The sugar from his Fruit Shoot clearly giving him an extra boost of energy and causing his arm to extend outwards towards the polystyrene box, clouding his mum’s reminder that ‘you need be a gentleman and let girls eat whatever’s left, even if you want it’. And truth be told, he doesn’t really want it, which is why the pang of anxiety as soon as his plastic fork clashes with yours is stronger than ever. His cheeks turning a violent shade of crimson as he quickly pulls his fork back, leaving just four little holes from where the prongs had been as you panic and do the same.

“Sorry, no you have it” he says quietly, nudging the box towards you in the hope that you get the hint. “No, you eat it” you smile, pushing it back towards him. The two of you just repeating the same movement as the box moves two centimetres one way, and then two centimetres back the other. “Mason, just eat it!” you whine as he sits opposite you and shakes his head. “I said you could have it” he smiles nervously, subtly wiping the sweat off his palms and onto the material of his jeans when he realises that you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Why are you getting all nervous for? Just eat ittt” you groan, a giggle escaping his lips because there’s no way you’re backing down on this one. “Fine” he huffs, stabbing his fork back into the little holes that it made earlier before slowly moving it towards his mouth. Your eyebrows raising more and more as you watch it edge closer to his lips. And then he’s doing the unthinkable and quickly changing the direction of his fork so that it starts heading towards your mouth instead. Involuntarily parting your lips whilst you wait for what’s just happened to register, and the next thing you know, you’re swallowing the piece of pitta bread. 

“What a fuss about nothing” he hums as you roll your eyes at him. “You’re quite romantic, aren’t you?” you tease as his eyebrows furrow in the middle, waiting for you to clarify your comment. “Is that all of the alcohol that’s made you so desperate to share the last piece of food with me?” you question, another layer of blush painting itself across the tops of his cheeks. “Oh, sorry, you didn’t have anything to drink, did you? Lightweight” you smirk, making him roll his eyes this time. “I’m just being a gent, plus you’ve been drinking so you need something to sober you up, maybe it’ll stop you being so rude next time I offer to buy you a drink” he says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. A wave of composure washing over him now that he’s left you slightly speechless and he’s matched your sense of humour. “Next time? You’ll be lucky” you sass as he scoffs at you. “You’re the one that needs to buy me a drink to apologise for snapping at me, so there will be a next time to call it quits, thank you” he smiles, his sudden burst of confidence talking to you allowing his real personality to shine through, and you can’t help but start to get lost in it. “Was I really that rude?” you ask, secretly dying as you think back to your ‘I’m not a charity’ comment at the bar. “No, I’m just messing” he laughs, eliciting the same response from you as you erase that memory out of your brain. “You’re just confident, I like it” he’s saying, the last part of his comment getting lost when a group of people come staggering through the door, drowning out his words for the second time tonight, but you’re ninety-nine percent certain you managed to catch it. And now you’re the nervous one.

You’re quickly moving the conversation on to something else when you feel your chest starting to heat up with anxious prickles. Mason going all funny inside because it’s clear that he has the same effect on you as you do him, but he’s trying to push that to the back of his mind as he listens to you rambling on about your favourite breed of dogs, and how you had a fish finger sandwich for tea before you came out tonight, and how you actually know quite a lot about football but you’re reluctant to bring it up because you don’t want to embarrass him, although your drunken state causes you to let a few football facts slip out, all of them relating to Mase but you’re too caught up in your fuzzy alcoholic state to even recognise. But he does, obviously. Finding it sweet how you know exactly how many appearances he’s made for Chelsea, and what minute he came on in his debut against Manchester United, and what colour boots he wore against last season’s match against Newcastle. Just sitting back and letting you talk in between the occasional swig of water, hardly being able to get a word in edgeways because the alcohol is well and truly running through your veins now, making you come out with all kinds of mismatched comments and slurs. But he doesn’t mind, which takes him by surprise a bit, especially as he’s secretly scared of drunk people and he can count the amount of times he’s felt a bit tipsy on one hand, but there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s your sense of humour and how you’ve got him in stitches, or how your drunken state leads you to be more concerned about the welfare of a stray cat outside than it does anything else on the planet, or maybe it’s how deep beneath that strong outer shell you’re protecting yourself with that he knows you’ve got a heart of gold, an inside of ‘pure mush’ as his mum would say. 

“What time is it?” you slur after knocking back your last swig of water. “Nearly one o’clock” Mason’s replying, glancing at his overly-expensive watch as you sit there and wonder how he actually knows what hour of the day it is when all of the numbers have been replaced by diamonds. “Better head off” you mumble, staring blankly into the empty kebab box and trying to process what move you need to make next in order to get yourself back home in one piece. “I’ll order you a cab if you want, or I’ll walk you back, I don’t know how far away you live” he’s saying, forcing you out of your trace as you look up at his tired, bloodshot eyes. Knowing full well that as soon as you’re gone he’ll be running home to bed with a glass of water to tone down the bubbles in his tummy from his fizzy drinks, paranoid incase they give him a fizzy version of a hangover. “I live about half an hour away and I can tell you’re ready for bed so I’ll go with the cab” you smile, making him giggle nervously at the fact that his tiredness has been uncovered, although it’s not difficult to pick up on the fact that the only other time he stays up this late is on New Years Eve, and even then he normally sets an alarm for 11.57pm so that he can wake up from his nap in time.

You’re letting him help you put all of your belongings back into your handbag after you insisted on showing him your favourite lipgloss midway through your earlier conversation. Linking your arm through his and stepping out into the coldness of the night, a breeze nipping across your legs and causing you to let out a little squeal as you start pulling your dress down to try and hide your goosebumps. “Here” Mason’s saying, taking his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders. “Mase” you’re replying. Mase - he likes that, and he likes how naturally it’s left your mouth too. Trying to give it back to him but he’s adamant that you keep it. “Gives me another reason to see you in order to get it back” he winks, making you roll your eyes as you stand snuggled into his side on the edge of the pavement. 

“Did you want my number?” he’s asking, already taking his phone out of his pocket and holding it out in your direction before you even have chance to respond. “You’ve not really given me an option have you?” you laugh, making him giggle as he shuffles awkwardly from side to side, waiting for your digits to appear on the screen. “Only because I need to give your jacket back, there’s no other reason for this” you tell him, smiling as he nods his head but you both know that’s a little white lie. “There you go” you’re saying, passing his phone back to him as his eyes study the new contact in his hand. A new number written beneath Y/N. 

‘Shit’ he’s thinking. He didn’t even ask for your name before this. Awkward. 

“Pretty name” he smiles, trying to play it off cool, but you’re not drunk enough to not notice his mistake. “So pretty that you didn’t even know that’s what I was called until now” you reply, making him giggle and let out an awkward ‘oops’. “I’ll let you off this once” you’re saying as you look up at him stood beneath the lamppost that’s towering above the two of you. A golden glow adding a filter to his face and making him look even more gorgeous than he did when he was sipping his lemonade in the club and shoving lettuce and chicken into his mouth. And you’re desperate to just kiss him, especially since he’s got a bit of dried Fruit Shoot in the corner of his mouth and you know his lips will taste all sweet like they do in the movies. But considering he’s only just learnt your name you don’t think it’s the right time, and there’s also a bunch of Tottenham fans making their way up the street, not wanting to have to make him endure any teasing, especially when he’s already stayed up late in a part of town he wouldn’t usually be seen dead in to spend time with you. 

“Thanks for tonight” you whisper as you briefly rest your head on his shoulder, pulling it away when the taxi he’s ordered for you appears at the side of the curb. “My pleasure, thank you” he’s saying back, removing his protective hand from the small of your back and stepping forward to open the back door of the car for you. “Told you that you were a gent” you tease as he mumbles ‘shut up’ and pretends to shove you into the back seat with a giggle. “See you soon for that jacket, yeah?” he winks as you reply with ‘yeah yeah, whatever’, making him let out a little chuckle as he closes the door on you. Giving you an awkward little wave as you head off down the street, standing and waiting for your car to turn the corner before heading home himself. Leaving just a message of ‘thank you again, can’t wait to get my jacket back cose it’s freezing without it ;) x’ that’s just appeared on your screen connecting the two of you. And even if you have been slightly tipsy tonight and now can’t remember half of the things you spoke about, there genuinely doesn’t seem like a better person to sit in a kebab shop with in the early hours of the morning after stumbling across him by pure chance a club that neither of you particularly wanted to spend the night at. Thanking your lucky stars for allowing your paths to cross because you already know this is the start of something special. Very special.