#might as well make tags for them too tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

toruro · 2 years ago

Text

— ✧ mr. nice guy

pairing. hong joshua x reader

description. you thought your next-door neighbor was just being polite when he offered to help you carry in your boxes the first time you saw him, but as you adjust to your new home, you start to notice that joshua’s nice in other ways too: nice eyes, nice smile, nice arms, nice fingers, probably nice di—okay you get the point. but just how long can you go with lusting after your neighbor before giving in to your very much not-nice desires? well, lucky for you, joshua also isn’t nearly as much of a gentleman as he likes to let on.

✘ tags. smut (18+), neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as always ✘ w/c. 5.3k ✘ a/n. i have had this idea in me for a WHILE so it's good to finally get it out! honestly i feel like the story is a little rushed but whatever

there's a gentle voice coming from in front of you, but with the way you’re holding the large box up right in front of your face, you can’t see who’s speaking. “do you need help with that?”

muscles straining and sweat beading down your skin, you manage to squeak out a quick, “yes please!” a wave of relief washing over your body as you feel the box grow infinitely lighter as this man’s arms wrap around the side. “thank you so much,” you say, still gripping onto the box as you slowly walk over and lead it to the front of your apartment door a few feet away. setting it down carefully, you look up so you can finally see the face of the angel who saved you so much trouble.

“no problem," he replies politely, and as your eyes flicker up, you're taken aback by his kind smile. "you new here?"

"did the moving boxes give it away?" you joke and the man cracks a hearty laugh.

"you got me there. i'm joshua," he tells you, and you think to yourself that there can't be a name for fitting for the man. he points over to the door across from yours. "i live right there, so i guess we'll be seeing each other a lot. what's your name?"

your name falls from your lips in a haze, internally thanking your lucky stars for finding yourself an apartment that was not only close to your work but also in close proximity someone as nice as joshua. "i guess so," you reply looking down the hallway where the movers had left the rest of your boxes. "i don't suppose you'd be down for another few boxes?" you ask hopefully, wincing at the way you're so shamelessly asking for help.

joshua chuckles at your expression and you feel that the ground might as well swallow you up whole. "it'd be my pleasure. it's not often i get new neighbors who are under the age of 50."

"i've noticed that...is there a reason the average age of the residents of place is like 60?" you ask curiously as you walk down to the end of the hallway to the boxes.

"not sure," joshua says. "i guess this place is just popular with them. not that i'm complaining. noisy neighbors are never a problem for me." he gives you an awry look, and you're a bit confused before he's jokes, "unless you plan on making that something i have to worry about now."

"no!" you reply a little too quickly, flustered by the way joshua is so easily coming up with conversation. it seems as if he's so smooth with everything, and with the way you have a million thoughts racing through your head—it's a it hard to keep up. "i mean, i don't do much or anything really," you clarify, reaching down to pick up one box while joshua goes to grab the other side.

"good to know," joshua tells you with a smile, and you try not to focus too much on the way that he grunts slightly when lifting up his end. "you're always welcome to come over to my place for a drink or something," he suggests as you begin walking over to your apartment.

smiling as you set down the box, you adjust your shirt and look up at him. "i'll think about it."

you, in fact, do think about joshua's offer. you think about it a lot.

you think about it that night when you carefully unpack your boxes. joshua's a nice guy, you think to yourself, because it's not often you come across such a person who's willing to give you an hour of their day to help carry heavy ass boxes for someone they barely know.

you think about it two mornings later when you're walking down the hallway with your groceries for the week only to find joshua about to enter his own apartment, clad in a tight fit t-shirt and gym shorts. his skin glows with layer of sheen sweat, his light brown hair pressing against his forehead in an oddly fitting mess. his breath is slightly labored when you call out his name instinctively, turning to look at you with bright eyes.

"hey, how's it going?" he's polite. joshua is polite, and a gentleman. you almost feel guilty when your eyes dart to the arms when the muscles flex as he brings up a hand to grab one of your grocery bags, insisting that it was his pleasure to help you out. something along the lines of, "i just got back from my work out and i can't help a pretty lady with her bags?"

pretty lady. you hope he can attribute your burning cheeks to the hot sun and not his words, because holy shit does he have your stomach doing tumbles. after all, joshua's just being polite right? right?

you think about his offer again three evenings later. you're just leaving your apartment to go on a walk, and joshua seems to have some people over, five boys knocking on his front door, where there seems to be more boys on the other side. you quickly glance at each other as you slip out of your apartment, hoping to hobble off quickly before things get more awkward, but then there's that door opening and you hear joshua's voice and you falter in your tracks for a moment at the way he calls you name so smoothly.

you turn around to face him as his friends slowly shuffle into his apartment, joshua leaning against the doorframe with a bottle of beer. he holds it up and raises a brow and fuck—if you don't stare at the way the bottle is perched between his perfect, thick fingers—fuck. "you wanna join?"

you want to. fuck, you really want to. so why do the words, the simple phrase of, "yeah sure," fall flat on your tongue? maybe it comes from the embarrassment of lusting over a man you hardly know. from the humiliation of letting your eyes dart towards his arms, his hands, his fingers, joshua's collarbone and the little adam's apple that bobs up when he takes a sip of his beer.

"i, uh, i was just going on a walk right now," you tell him, your voice sounding meek and you want to cringe at the poorly planned response. joshua chuckles, and you aren't sure why.

"you don't wanna come? aw, you're hurting my feelings," he coos.

"no! that's not what i meant," you say quickly, averting your gaze from joshua because the way he's peering down at you right now—god, you don't know if you want to go up to him and fall straight to your knees and suck him off or turn around and run away out of pure humiliation. "i just—you know—walks. go on them every day," you try to explain haphazardly.

"no it's okay, i get it," he replies before looking into his apartment when one of his friends yells out his name, "it's bit rowdy in here anyways, so i don't blame you." there's an awkward sort of silence that settles between you and the air is thick as you debate if you should turn around and leave right about now. "i don't suppose you'd want to stop by after your walk?" he asks hopefully, and you figure this is his way of giving you a second chance.

this time, you look up at him and smile. "i'll think about it."

except this time you actually think about, not just sit and wonder of the possibilities. as you pace down the street, your one hour walk that usually make time fly now seems to feel like the longest sixty minutes of your life. you come down to two possibilities at the end of it:

1. you don't show up and joshua thinks you're an indecisive bitch

2. you do show up, have a good time, and things are left at that

of course, putting it like that only really leaves you with one choice to choose, that being the latter. knowing that your own conscience won't let you live it down if you don't end up choosing the latter, you march up to joshua's apartment with a slowly diminishing confidence. yeah, you're eager to see where this night will take you, but you're also not necessarily confident that you're anxiousness won't betray you.

it's just that joshua is so nice and so kind and he has you thinking so many thoughts that your words always seem to jumble up into an incoherent mess whenever he speaks to you. all you can really ever think about when you see him is—well—all of him, which includes his nice smile, his nice muscles, his nice—okay, shit, you really need to control yourself.

doing what little mind-clearing exercises you can cram into the time it takes you to get up to your floor, you're pretty sure your breath is labored from how hard you're thinking alone. before you have any time to let yourself back out of this, you're rushing up to joshua's door, knocking maybe a little too desperately.

in the next moment, you have time to listen in on the other side, the room being quieter than you remember it being an hour ago. all that can be heard is some soft shuffling that can only be identified as joshua's footsteps, and before you know the door is opening, the one and only standing in front of you.

"there she is," joshua greets with a smile, "low and behold!"

the tips of your ears burn at his welcoming, stepping back a little. "h-hi," you murmur quickly, the responses that you planned in your head earlier seemingly fading away in your mind. "is that offer for a drink still on the table?" you ask hopefully, chewing on your bottom lip as you wait for an answer.

"'course it is," he replies. "i was waiting for you to come to your senses," he continues, stepping to the side so you can slip off your shoes and step in, realizing now that all his friends have left leaving only you two. you follow in after him, your eyes glazing over his apartment. it's got the same layout as yours, as expected, only it's mirrored. it's slightly messy, presumably from the mess his friends left from before, but the set up is neat and you can tell joshua has a good eye for color.

"i like those paintings up on the wall," you comment, pointing at a set of wall art hung above his sofa. joshua looks up at it before smiling softly and nodding, walking to the kitchen as you trail behind him.

"thank you, one of my friends that was here earlier got it for me. he's great at interior design, if you're ever looking for someone," he tells you, reaching for the fridge and pulling out a cool bottle of beer. "here," he says, handing it to you before grabbing a bottle opener and popping off the cap for you. holding it out in front of you, you're able to watch his hands up close—they're big and veiny and fuck, you'd be lying if you said you didn't press your thighs together slightly.

you aren't sure joshua notices, and if he does, he doesn't make it obvious. "thank you," you murmur softly, letting him step back and put the opener away before he leads you to the living room. you settle down on one end of the couch, and instead of opting to sit on the arm chair, joshua just sits on the opposite end. throwing his hands back so they lean on the arm rest and the back of the couch, his biceps are stretched out and on display thanks to his short sleeve t-shirt.

"so," joshua begins as he grabs his own beer and brings it up to his lips, "how do you like it here?"

you take your own sip of the cool liquid before responding, "it's hardly been a week...but i like it. it's peaceful, and i like the neighborhood."

"yeah, the people are nice," joshua agrees. you're nice, you think. "how was moving in?"

"i'm still honestly unpacking," you chuckle to yourself, feeling more comfortable now that there's casual conversation being initiated. "i have a bunch of clothes at my friend's place that i still need to pick up," you explain, leaning back into the plush cushions.

"you need help bringing them in? i can lend a hand if you need."

your stomach tumbles at his generosity, but you shake your head. "ah, you've already helped me so much, i don't think that's fair."

"oh c'mon," joshua counters, "you can pay me back with something if that'll make you feel better."

you raise a brow. "now how would i do that? you got venmo?" you tease.

"i was thinking of something a little less materialistic," joshua replies with a roll of his eyes, and you think you might just combust on the spot.

you aren't exactly sure what he means by that until you bring your eyes to meet his and that's when you see it. how his eyes darken, how he gulps even though he hasn't taken a sip of his drink, how he shifts in his seat. suddenly, you're dawned with the realization that on your walk, you left out the option for a third possibility, a.k.a. you do show up, have a good time, and then have joshua rail you into the next dimension.

gaining confidence, you cross your legs over each other and turn to face him better, deciding to go along. "huh..." your voice trails off. "i'm not quite sure what you mean by that joshua," and you swear you hear his breath hitch when you say his name.

he regains composure so quickly it's hard to tell you even threw him off guard in the first place. "i'm not really sure actually. you have anything to offer?"

you shrug as you set down your beer at the coffee table by your feet. "i make a mean maple cake, if you're into sweet stuff." joshua perks up at that.

"i do have a sweet tooth," he mumbles to himself, pretending to be in thought as he follows your movements, pushing his bottle to the side. "that's gonna take a while though," he says solemnly, "you're gonna have to get the ingredients...make the cake...bring it to me...sounds like a lot of work for you..." his voice trails off, and then he's tossing you that look again.

joshua figures you're both definitely on the same page by now and there's no point leaving the tension between his go unrelieved for any longer than he has to, and before you know it he's reaching one strong arm over to grab your wrist, pulling you into his hold so he can kiss you fiercely.

his lips are soft, but the way he's pushing against you, sucking, nipping, running his tongue along you is all but gentle. with joshua's arms leaving your hands and instead running up the sides of your waist, pulling you in roughly, you gasp into his mouth, allowing him the chance to slip his tongue against yours, tasting you, feeling you, being one with you.

one hand comes up to cup the side of your face, tilting your head slightly so he can push his lips against yours harder, his tongue sinking deeper to explore the caverns of your mouth. when he pulls away, you both share heaving breaths of air, mouths connected with a string of saliva before he's leaning back in and capturing you once more.

his other hand on your waist gently nudges you and you're falling back onto the cushions, head hitting one of the pillows as he crawls into the space between your legs. inching up his knee until his thick thigh is pressing up against your pounding core, easing the tension that he's been so carefully building up.

joshua noticed it. the way your eyes lingered on his arms, his fingers—noticed the sparkle in your eyes followed by the immediate embarrassment of your own thoughts. he's not sure if you're just easy to read or if he's just good at reading you but whatever it is, you're an open book to him and fuck it's so cute it has him going crazy.

you whine against his lips, rocking into him to the best of you abilities while you're pinned beneath him. there isn't much space to move around in the little corner of this couch, but you hardly pay mind to the inconvenience when joshua peels his lips and thigh away from you. "ha—no," you gasp out, hips chasing the relief the hard muscle provided. joshua chuckles, shaking his head as you pout.

"relax baby," he coos, and the pet name has you shivering under his touch as he inches his body down the length of the couch until his upper body rests between your thighs, face dangerously close to your gaping cunt. "be patient, okay?" he orders, and you nod your head quickly in agreement. joshua traces his fingers from your knees achingly slow up to the hem of your denim shorts, slipping under the cloth only slightly, leaving you nearly begging for more.

"josh—shua—fuck, more, please?" you choke out, voice broken from pure desperation. joshua clicks his tongue at you, flashing a warning look which shuts your lips real tight as he reaches up to unbutton the shorts. you quickly reach down, helping him out, but he swats your hands away.

"can you keep your hands up for me sweetheart?" he asks so fucking sweetly you almost forget about the mischievous glint that flashes in his eyes.

"uh-huh," you mumble, slowly lifting your hands above your head, gripping onto the armrest of the couch to brace yourself. in the meantime, joshua unzips and yanks your shorts off, tossing them to the side so they fall somewhere in the room. staring down at your now exposed and soiled panties, you hear joshua suck in a breath.

"all this for me sweetheart?" he murmurs, bring two fingers up to lightly pinch your clit, causing you to jerk against his hold.

"all for you," you affirm nearly immediately, squirming when he takes one finger and tuns it down the midline of the fabric. joshua's eyes are gaping down at your core, nearly in the shape of hearts as his mind races with the idea of how you're already so undone, so desperate, so far gone for him. slowly but surely, he hooks one finger on each side of the waist band, peeling your panties off and exposing your dripping folds.

joshua nearly groans at the site of you clenching around nothing, saying, "fuck baby, you're gonna soak my couch."

"s-sorry," you stutter out, averting your gaze so you don't have the chance to look at the mess you've made.

"don't apologize...it's hot as hell." he pauses, then looks up at you. "you mind if i get a taste?"

"god, fuck yes—i mean no—wait," you babble, "i mean—shit—i don't mind, not at all."

joshua's heart swells at your response, waisting no time dipping his head between your thighs and pressing his tongue flat against your folds. you cry out at the warmth and friction, instinctively shooting one hand down to grab at his hair. within seconds, he's pulling his head back and giving you a stern look. "what'd i say sweetheart?"

"hands, sorry." you quickly pull your fingers back and return them to their hold on the couch.

"there you go sweetheart," joshua mumbles before diving back in, wrapping his arms under and around your thighs to hold you in your place. you can nearly feel his muscles bulge against your leg and you twitch against his mouth at the thought. meanwhile, joshua runs his tongue up and down, going and back and forth between hardening at and circling it around your hole before moving up and wrapping his lips around your clit and flicking his tongue over it.

the erratic, unpredictable movements have your back arching off the couch within minutes, moaning out words like, "feels so good joshua," along with quite curses as you attempt to keep your voice down. it hardly takes a few minutes before you're writhing under him, joshua pulling back with his lips and chin coated in a sticky wetness with a grin.

"you look so pretty baby," he compliments, using one hand to continue to rub between your folds and circle around your clit, never halting the shoots of pleasure through your spine. his eyes are flickering between yours and core, and then holy shit, his lips contort for a moment and then he's spitting on your already soaked pussy and the act is so demeaning and dirty and hot that you hardly comprehend the next words that come out of joshua's mouth. "so do you wanna cum now, or on my cock?" he offers, and you figure there's a right answer and a wrong one, but you don't have the brain capacity right now to think about which is which.

pouting, you respond, "c-can't i have both?"

that must be the right answer, because it has joshua beaming at you, smiling against your pussy as he slips two fingers into you and presses his mouth on your clit. jerking your hips up, joshua follows the swivel of your lower half, matching the thrusts and flicks of his wrist to your own movements so his fingers are hitting deeper and deeper every time. you think you're close, but when he's curling his digits inside of you and sucking hard on your nub you know it's coming.

you don't have time to warn joshua about your impending orgasm but the way your walls hug his fingers so fucking tight is warning enough, and he speeds up both his fingers and the flicking of his tongue to the point where you're on the brink of tears as he finger fucks you through your high. humming in appreciation at the way you call out his name as you do, he releases your clit with a filthy 'pop' sound, fingers taking a moment to gently slip out of you as you come down from your high.

"you did so good angel," joshua praises, pressing kisses along your inner thigh, smearing your skin in the mixture of your own cum and his saliva. your breaths are far too erratic for you to respond, but the way you look up at him with heavy eyelids through thick, glossy lashes tells joshua all he needs to know. unraveling his arms around you, he bring himself up and guides your legs to wrap around his bare torso—shit, wait, when did he take his shirt off.

gaping at this man who could quite literally be god, you can't even comprehend what's going on until you're being carried into a whole new room, joshua throwing you onto his bed, the messy covers bunching up around you. he stands at the edge, unbuckling his belt at a painfully slow rate. quickly scrambling up from your laying back position, you crawl to the spot in front of him and help unbutton his jeans. "already wanting more, huh?" he teases, but doesn't push you away, rather putting his hands to his side to watch you do the work yourself. you don't respond, taking this chance to grab both his jeans and boxers, pulling them down in one go.

joshua's cock springs out, thick and beaming with a bead of precum that dribbles off the tip, lightly hitting your face in the process. your mind is foggy and you look up at him with dreamy eyes as you absentmindedly open your mouth and close your lips around his bulbous tip, lapping at the precum. joshua doesn't hesitate to grab at your hair and pull you off of him, and for a moment you're scared you've done something wrong, getting pulled out of your haze.

but then you catch the way his voice drops an octave when he says, "slow down," and your worries are put at ease. "we can do that another time. wanna feel your cunt." another time. those words ring in your head. there's going to be another time. you ponder on that thought for a moment and then you recall the next of what he says and you look up at him with these doe eyes that joshua finds so fucking adorable, he'd be surprised if you don't see his dick twitching.

crawling onto the mattress, your limbs intertwine in a hot mess so that one of your legs is hooked around his torso while the other rests between his knees under him. it's a slightly awkward position, but the thought hardly crosses either of your minds once his fat tip his sliding between your drooling folds teasingly, before you're begging, "c'mon joshie, stick it in, please—need it now."

now joshua isn't one to usually give in—he's good at maintaining his patience. yet, the way you mumble out his nickname as if there isn't a single thought in your pretty head has his mind going numb, losing all semblance of self control until he can't help but sink his full length into you.

and joshua knows he's big, and looking down at how you nearly shake beneath him, it's confirmed that this is a lot for you. he almost feels bad at the way tears stream down your cheek, considering pulling out and pressing kisses along your face until you're ready to try again but then you're saying his name like that—"joshie, joshie, joshie"—and he just knows that neither of you would be satisfied until he's balls deep inside of you.

"takin'—god, fuck—takin' me like a pro, huh sweetheart?" joshua finally finds it in him to grunt out with out his voice wavering from the way you hug him so well.

"yeah-huh," you nod along, holding up your hand in a grabbing motion, joshua not hesitating to hold your hand in his so you can squeeze it tight while you work through the initial stretch. "you're so big, joshie."

"yeah," he breaths out a laugh. "you like it?" he groans, slipping out around halfway, giving you a chance to breathe, before he's shallowly thrusting back into you. "like me stretching out this pretty fucking pussy?" you nod dumbly, and your jaw gyrates as you try to form a response but no words come out, strangled syllables morphing into pornographic moans as joshua begins to drag his cock out further each time, plunging it deeper and deeper as he goes on.

"oh my god," you're finally able to babble, tits bouncing back and forth as joshua begins jamming his hips into yours with increasing force. the sounds of your wet pussy colliding with his cock bounce off the walls and if it isn't the filthiest thing you've ever heard, you don't know what is.

joshua latches one arm to your hip, the other continuing to hold yours as he pins it by your neck and shifting his body over you so his head hovers above yours. this new angle his his cock ramming hard down onto a spot that has you biting down onto your lips and crying out, "fuck, joshie!"

"you're squeezing me so tight," joshua moans as you rake one hand down his back. "suckin' me in, god i can't get enough, sweetheart," he grunts out, dropping his head down to bury it in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you. your body feels as if it's on fire in the best way possible, and with the way joshua is pressing open mouthed kisses onto your sticky skin has your hips lifting to meet his sharp strokes.

you feel as if things can't get any better and then you feel his teeth bite down into your flesh and your eyes roll to the fucking back of your head as the pain quickly shoots to pleasure when he sucks on the spot, the patch of skin throbbing—pulsing. "'m so close, joshie," you moan as he pullings away, looking down at your fucked out face. your eyes are droopy and shutting tight every time he fucks into you, mouth slightly agape and never fully closing.

he isn't sure what urges him to do it but then he's shoving three fingers into your mouth and joshua thinks that this might just be true love at the way you don't even hesitate a second to circle your lips against them and run your tongue against them. drool dribbles down your lips as you suck on his fingers and joshua's mind is consumed with the thought of your mouth doing that to his dick and then you moan around his fingers at the way he twitches inside of you and—fuck—he's getting close too, but he just can't allow himself to cum until you have.

slipping his fingers out, he uses the same, slick hand to toy at your clit as you clench around him tighter. "you said you're close?" he groans. "fuckin' cum then, cum around my cock how you wanted to, sweetheart."

it's the way he's gazing down at you endearingly. it's his fat cock pushing itself deeper inside of you, forcing you and your gummy walls to make room for me. it's the filthy words that spill from his lips, laced with his sweet words of praise. it's all of it that comes crashing down on you, the waves of pleasure hitting you over and over and over again until you're reduced to nothing but a thrashing, crying, whining mess with the words, "joshie, fuck," falling from your lips.

you're so lost in pleasure of your second orgasm of the day that you hardly notice it when joshua slips out of you himself, fervently jerking himself off until he moans out your name and there's thick white ropes of cum painting your stomach and clit 'til he's practically milked himself dry.

all the echos through the room now is the sound of your hiccups and joshua's gasps for air until he's finally falling on top of you, head resting on your chest.

"you are so not a gentleman," you gasp out between breaths as he slowly lifts himself off of you, rolling to your side once you unwind your leg from around his hips. he furrows his eyebrows at you with a frown.

"what do you mean?" he whines. "that's literally like my trademark."

"well change it," you grumble, running your fingers over the mark on your neck from where joshua bit you.

"i'm sorry," he murmurs, turning over to you to look at the bruise against your skin. "did i hurt you?" he asks, eyes wide with worry. you want to kick your feet at the way his concern has butterflies coursing through your veins as if this man didn't just rearrange your guts.

you push his face away when he leans down to pepper your neck with kisses, shuffling back onto you. you aren't sure how much longer your poor heart can handle this. "it's too late to be a gentleman now..."

"is it though?" joshua asks with a smirk, looking down at you.

"dunno...guess you just have to prove to me that you're worth the title."

"does this mean i get more chances?" joshua grins.

you roll your eyes. "maybe...it depends on what you have planned."

"well," joshua drawls out. "i'm thinking a nice date...then maybe you, me, my bed and—"

i guess you can tell where it goes from here.

a/n. half the time i think i dont know how to end fics without some stupid dialouge bc wtf.... anyways if u enjoyed pls like and reblog!

#joshua x reader #joshua smut #joshua svt #joshua seventeen #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo #seventeen joshua #joshua x you #svt smut #seventeen imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #📝 writing

5K notes · View notes

cece693 · 13 days ago

Text

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

228 notes · View notes

cnl0400 · 3 months ago

Text

The new dating feature... What to expect?

(Apart from disapointment, of course)

Disclaimer: I only bought this because I had a lot of Google Play points, so I could shave a looooooooooot of the total price, but my condolences to anyone who doesn't live in the US because it's a lot more expensive in another regions... Including mine, of course

Disclaimer 2: I'm not telling you what to do with your money, this Is my personal opinion. If you are planning in buying this, do whatever idc, but since a lot of people are having doubts, I felt that I might as well tell everyone what Is this about.

So yeah... Since they announced the new feature, I knew It either would cost real money, It just sounded too good to be true, but I didn't expect to cost $29.99? Almost $37 in my country currency, a total scam, really.

But to be fair to them, this Is a bundle that comes with 300 DP, and considering the price of 280 DP, it's almost like you get the ticket for "free", right?? At least that's how Solmare probably thought It would look like, but the reality Is that the common player will see this bundle and just think that this ticket cost 30 fucking dollars (just look at the comments of Twitter and the tag Right now). In my opinion, just separate the DP and the ticket, and have the bundle as an special offert If you want. Remember that selling stuff Is also about framing... Most players that were planning on buying this might not be planning on buying the DP (like myself, I don't buy DP unless it's on special offerts) so the only thing people like that will think Is that "why this ticket costs that much?"

But what you get in the actual event, you might ask? The trailer was vague as hell in my opinion, and that's an instant red flag in my radar, especially for that spicy art that came with it

For a ticket date you get:

A 1min call

A 10min storyline (not fully voiced, apart from certain lines in the las part of the storyline)

A Majolish background with the date art

The event starts with you calling you boy of preference (in this case, I choose Mammon) to invite him to a date, the call ends and you get a 10min storyline. The premise of the Mammon's date Is that MC has won tickets to Phantom Park, and then Mammon & MC get involved to a game of tag to win a price. Then couple shennigans happen, blah blah blah.

The Story Is... Not bad? I found It rather cute actually, it's romantic and at least they make It explicit that Mammon & MC aré actually dating, but again, this could very well have been in a Devilgram, it's not worth the 30 dollars Solmare expects you to pay tbh. Just tip your favorite fanfic author and call It a day

The last segment Is the one they show in the tráiler, with Mammon getting out of the shower

In this scene, some lines are voiced, and tbh, If the actual story was like this, It almost miiiight be worth It (not the full price, but at least something). But as now? Save your money people, I wouldn't really recommend It.

The only way I would recommend buying It it's If you're already planning on buying the 280 DP offert, or you have a lot of coupons/GPP so you don't pay full price lol, but If you like Lucifer (or Asmo) just do yourself a favor and buy the ASMR. At least, that's what I think

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #post0400 #hasta aqui mi reporte joaquin #like I said. I was planning in doing a mini-review of the feature when it launched but I didn't expect to actually be this expensive...#it's really dissapointing. I said this as someone who doesn't mind paying for mobile games. but honestly just a total skip #hope at least they reconsider the price because the feature as this price it's simply not worth that kind of money #just buy a full dating sim for switch/steam at that point #I never buy the 240 DP ofert so it's not appealing to me. and I know this is a busisness but you have to think of the optics #of how the common user is going to look at this. and looking at the tag right know and the comments on Twitter. it's not looking good #but if Solmare thinks they can survive of whales alone. then whatever I guess

222 notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 1 month ago

Note

I beg you desperately and with all the hope that makes a lump in my throat, may we please get some more Jason going home accidentally. My week is testing me aggressively and I'm tipsily seeking comfort.

I tried to write a bit of new content for this but tbh I did not have the spoons or the focus to manage it, so instead here's the whole current story-so-far all put together and all in order behind the cut here, since even the "chrono" tag for this story is not really all that chronological and I'm, like, eighty-five percent sure that there's gotta be at least a COUPLE excerpts in here that haven't gone up yet. If nothing else, I know there's some little bits and pieces I've added or adjusted in editing, and hopefully it'll be a satisfying read to get all in order and all together for . . . quite possibly the first time, yeah, hah.

Well, it's 16.5k, if nothing else, haha.

Sorry for the day or two's wait on getting back to you with this; hope your week's improved, friend.

Jason fucked up his suppressants somewhere in fucking Barbados, of all places, and by "fucked up" he means "lost in a firefight".

So that was a problem, definitely.

He'd had two days before it was going to be a serious problem, though, and a lot of bad guys to deal with before he could deal with said problem. But it would've been fine, if there hadn't been a local supply chain issue with omega suppressants.

Or it would've been fine if he hadn't been with Roy and Kori at the time. If he hadn't been with two unfairly gorgeous alphas that he'd been relying on to watch his ass for months, who'd both saved his life and carried him out of the shit more than once; who'd both looked at him like he was a real and actual person, still, and had never once been disappointed in the kind of real and actual person that he really and actually was.

Or maybe just if he hadn't known damn well just how fat both their knots were from Dick's goddamn locker room gossip when he'd been a fucking stupid and stupidly impressionable not-dead-yet teenager.

Dick was a goddamn beta, the bastard. He shouldn't have even known how good Tamaranean knot supposedly was! That should not have been a thing!

Jason, unfortunately, had been gifted with an absolute whore with absolutely no shame for a predecessor, and so had spent his accidentally suppressant-free time thinking far, far too much about Dick's goddamn dumbass war stories from his Titans days and exactly how many of them had ended with "and then Kori blew my fucking back out and it was the fucking shit".

The bastard.

So yeah, Jason had gone into a stress heat after two lousy missed doses of suppressants, because of fucking course he had! Of fucking course that was his fucking life!

And of fucking course said stress heat had happened while he was laying low in a bare-bones safehouse with Roy and Kori and a California king and absolutely no other methods of distraction.

Of course it had.

"Do you require assistance, friend?" Kori asks, and Jason probably could answer her verbally, but instead he just very literally climbs her and refuses to get down until she promises to blow his fucking back out. And really, he only actually gets down at all because Roy is standing just slightly out of reach and Jason very, very desperately needs to get his mouth on him.

Just–desperately.

"Oh–both of us?" Roy manages, his face going bright red.

"Both of you at once," Jason growls, and then tackles him to that damn California king. Kori is clearly delighted.

Jason is pretty damn delighted too, once he’s gotten both their knots in him.

Dick had not been exaggerating the locker room talk. If anything, he'd undersold things. Roy was so fucking careful and thorough and Kori was so fucking confident and relentless and Jason was . . . Jason was . . .

Actually Jason might be in love, maybe? It's possible that this is what being in love is. Like, as a thing.

Or whatever.

So Jason had spent a week getting fucked so good that even the pit hadn't had any complaints, and then it'd been back to business as usual for the next couple of months and he hadn't thought about it again outside of his personal time, and maybe once or twice when Roy or Kori had stepped in a little too close or made casual eye contact or just smiled at him like they were actual friends or something, the utter bastards. But otherwise, yeah, no. Business as usual.

And some very vivid and imaginative new sex dreams and stupid romantic daydream fantasies not as usual.

But again: whatever. That crap was Future Jason's problem. Current Jason is busy shoving alllll of that inconvenient emotional shit into a nice helpful repression box and just leaving it there to rot, and that’s just gonna be that.

And no, he isn't reading romance novels again. Shut the fuck up, Roy. It’s Pride and Prejudice, not goddamn bored housewife smut.

Admittedly, the bored housewife smut might've actually been less embarrassing than the romantic yearning, especially when Kori asks him what his new book’s about and Jason already knows that Roy knows it well enough that he'll be able to tell if he bullshits her, but whatever.

Last time he watches that stupid A&E miniseries with the prick, no matter how damn good Colin Firth looks in a wet shirt.

Ugh.

"We need to talk," Roy says while standing in the middle of a kill floor with a trick arrow nocked and a stranger's blood all over his face. Jason wants to kiss him. Or kill him. Or maybe do both of those things at once? Maybe? But like–biohazards. "Like, about our feelings. Specifically the specific feelings that I am specifically having about the two of you and your specific feelings."

"Oh!" Kori says with a bright smile as she lights up with both visible delight and destructive solar radiation. She is also very kiss/kill-able right now, Jason thinks, though the radiation thing could also be an issue. "Well, my specific feelings are that you and I should mate our lovely Jason at his earliest possible convenience and then consummate said mating under the stars. Repeatedly. I have refreshed my knowledge of the appropriate Earth customs, so do you think Lian would rather be the flower-bearer or the ring-girl?"

"I'm going back to Gotham," Jason blurts in panicked self-defense.

"Is that an invitation or an escape route?" Roy asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm going back to Gotham right now," Jason says, which he understands is not an actual answer but is still not going to clarify any more than that. Then he flees the kill floor. He flees the kill floor very, very quickly.

Repression box time.

So yeah, Jason ditches them both in Prague and heads back to Gotham the long way. He doesn't answer when Roy tries calling his burner, though he does text their very small group chat a vague confirmation that he isn't dead again yet a day or three later. Kori immediately sexts him in response, but he's pretty sure that she just still thinks that's how texting works.

Look, he hasn't corrected the misassumption.

Fuck, she is just unfairly attractive all the time, though, isn't she. And even more so when he's desperately trying to avoid her and also his emotions.

Roy also sexts him, and is also unfairly attractive despite being who he is as a person. Then the two of them get distracted sexting each other instead, and Jason just lets himself pretend that they can't see his "read" receipts as he follows along.

So he hadn't been all that subtle about how much of a turn-on it'd been the handful of times that they'd gone at each other during his heat despite both being alphas, okay? Sue him. Who the fuck could've been? Not fucking Dick, that's for fucking sure.

Jason is pretty sure that he will never again see anything as mind-meltingly, panty-soakingly hot as the sight of Roy taking Kori's big fat knot in Jason's own damn heat nest and whining for it in his alpha voice while she so-sweetly told him what a good bitch he was being for her. Just–nope. No. Definitely not.

Jason didn't even know alpha voices could whine like that. Like, he had not been any kind of aware that was an actual thing that an actual alpha voice could actually do.

Also they were both a lot more flexible than he'd ever really let himself think about too much before.

And had a lot more . . . endurance.

So that'd all been very extremely destructive to his sanity, yeah. And his higher thought processes.

And just his . . . everything, pretty much. Pretty much his everything, yeah.

Kori and Roy keep sexting the group chat with annoyingly helpful visual aids until Jason has to stop in a shitty motel just outside of Gotham and fuck himself stupid for a few hours, because they're the literal worst teammates in the literal entire world and he hates them both and also he wants both their stupid fucking knots in him right fucking now and Lian can be the flower-bearer and the ring-girl as far as he's concerned, he doesn't even care.

Bastards.

Jason catches up with the group chat, takes a very, very cold shower, and then drives the rest of the way towards Gotham. He does not check his phone even one more time, because knowing Roy and Kori he'd probably crash his fucking bike if he did.

He doesn't think about any fucking romance novel bullshit either.

It's weird that he misses them already, isn't it? He doesn't usually miss people this quick. At least, not these days. He's gotten too used to being stray for that.

He's been a stray for so fucking long, it feels like, and he just . . .

Fuck, he can't even remember the last time he had real packscent on him. Which, well–yeah, of course he can't. That would imply having a pack, wouldn't it.

He thinks it was Alfred's scent, the last time.

It must've been.

He misses Alfred, too.

Maybe he'll swing by the manor in a few days, once he's settled back into the swing of things in the city and he's shown his face in a few key places and made sure nobody's fucked too much with his territory while he was away. Maybe Alfred's missed him a little himself. Maybe the others won't mind him taking up a little bit of space in their space for an hour or two. Maybe Bruce will . . .

Fuck, is he high or something? What, exactly, does Jason think Bruce is going to do if he sees him, besides say something shitty to him about how he handles his territory or lives his life or just whatever else?

Maybe he'll drag his ass back to Ethiopia again.

Yeah, that'd be a great time. Real fun for the whole family.

Not that they're any kind of family anymore.

Bruce doesn't want them to be. Doesn’t want a blooded killer or Crime Alley trash for one of his pack's omegas. Doesn't want to explain Jason being alive or help him establish a cover identity that they could somehow know each other through or publically claim him or do just . . . anything like that. Red Hood has a comm link that can connect to the Bat pack's devices and conditional access to their intel as long as he hasn't either killed anyone or freaked out on pit rage too recently and nothing else.

He isn't family.

He isn't pack.

Hell, even when Jason had been pack to Bruce, it'd only been the two of them and Alfred and the occasional semi-grudging visit from Dick. Nothing like it is now, with more goddamn Bats than a belfry. Now there's Tim and Cass and Steph and Damian and . . .

Jason knows perfectly well that there isn't a place for him in that pack, much less in the manor. There isn't even a place for him in the cave, unless some absolute asshole decides to count that bullshit memorial.

Maybe he should tell Bruce how much he fucking hates that memorial, one of these days. Not like Bruce would care, but . . . just–maybe he should.

One of these days.

Jason is distracted, he thinks. Or not thinking, maybe?

Or just very fucking stupid, maybe.

There's literally no other reason he would've just driven his bike up the road to goddamn Wayne Manor first thing into Bristol. Which . . . whatever, he's not in Red Hood's gear right now, that's all packed away in his go-bag, but still. He knows better than to pull this kind of shit.

He's not welcome at the manor. He doesn't deserve to be. Not after what he's done. What he's become. What he is.

And even if he ever were welcome, he still wouldn't belong here.

Jason wants so, so fucking badly for that not to be true.

But it is true, of course. It's always been true.

Always was true.

Jason parks his bike outside the front gate and checks the group chat. Roy and Kori are–mostly–done sexting and are talking about flowers, the fucking weirdos. Like they'd even bother having a ceremony if they actually did get mated. Who'd even care?

Not anyone on his side of the goddamn aisle, that's for fucking sure. And what, they're gonna invite Blackfire and Green Arrow?

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

Jason thinks about the absolutely ludicrous idea of texting his opinion on mating ceremony flowers to the chat, but doesn't.

He feels . . . off, kind of. Restless. Nervous. Nauseous.

Like fucking crying his fucking eyes out until he fucking dies.

Again.

He really misses Alfred. It's a little late–late enough that he's definitely missed dinner, but not really late enough to interfere with anyone's patrol schedule. He could just . . . duck in for a bit. Check in. See what the old man's been up to and catch up on the pack gossip like he actually deserves to know any of it.

Maybe Alfred would let him sneak into the cookie jar like he always pretends he isn't gonna.

Jason still remembers every single goddamn cookie recipe Alfred ever let him help him with back in the day, but somehow not a one of them has ever tasted the same as they do when he's sneaking them out of that stupidly fancy old cookie jar or off a cooling rack on one of Alfred's immaculate kitchen counters. Not even close.

Jason really wants one of those cookies right now. And also Alfred. And also . . .

And also he wants to be fifteen and afraid of absolutely nothing, with Bruce's pack bite on his neck and Robin's cape around his shoulders and the certainty of having a place, of being something, being someone, being . . .

Belonging.

Like he thinks he has the fucking right to, or something.

He texts the group chat.

i am the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead, he says.

fuck u zomboy thats my crown n i will fight u 4 it, Roy says.

are you well, loveliest? Kori asks, and thoughtfully includes a shot of her tits, which are as irritatingly resplendent as ever. Especially because her come is currently smeared all over them, but Jason's just gonna have to process that particular image a little bit later, when he's not having a weird emotional crisis in the manor driveway over fucking cookies.

Though he saves the pic to come back to for said "later", obviously. He's having a crisis, yeah, but he's not an idiot.

i want a cookie, he says.

. . . like in a sexy way or in an emotional regression way?? Roy says.

i fucking hate your new therapist

regression it is ok!! well u gotta b in gotham by now right?? go c ur man alfie n ask him 4 the hookup

go to hell and burn there

Roy sends him a dick pic in response, probably so Kori won't wonder why they aren't being as porny as usual and start to emulate them. Jason grudgingly saves it for later too and also fucking hates him.

we can provide you with all the emotional regression cookies you wish, loveliest, Kori says, including a very nice shot of her half-blown knot that makes Jason's traitor of a mouth water. He glazes over briefly and really hopes Babs isn't creeping on the cell phone towers yet tonight. He's almost sure that wasn't actually meant to be a come-on, but . . . we would be most appreciative of the opportunity to satisfy your desires.

Never mind. Definitely a come-on.

. . . almost definitely.

It is Kory.

Jason saves the new pic, obviously, and then sighs to himself.

if you never see me again, it was possibly tim but probably damian who did me in, he types out resignedly. in which case, either fair or fair play

k but what if it was dick tho?? Roy asks.

then i want you to burn down this whole fucking city in my fucking name, Jason says.

it would be our honor, loveliest, Kori says hopefully not too sincerely.

Then again, "burned down by a sexy alien on a vengeance bender" is a lot better of an end than Gotham really deserves at this point. And anyway, Jason's not gonna tell Kori how to live her life.

He puts his burner away and looks up at the manor. The lights are on, obviously. It's getting dark, so why wouldn't they be?

He still really wants that stupid cookie.

Jason sighs again, then gets off his bike. He'll just go up and knock, and if no one's too busy to answer then he'll just . . . go in for a little while. That's all. He has a key, technically, but he's never fucking used it and he's never fucking going to, outside of maybe a possible life or death or global crisis-level emergency.

This isn't his home. Not anymore.

So yeah. He's not gonna use the damn key.

Jason walks up to the door. It smells like Bruce has touched it. Not especially recently–not any more recently than this morning, at least–but still. It smells like Bruce has touched it.

Which it obviously would. It always does. Bruce is the pack alpha, after all. He scents this door all the damn time. It's always smelled like him. This stupid fucking door has smelled like it belongs to Bruce for a lot longer than Jason ever got to.

It smells like Alfred has touched it too. And Dick, and Damian, and Duke, and . . .

Fuck, he can even smell traces of Selina on it.

No trace of himself, though.

He hasn't been in Gotham, Jason reminds himself. He hasn't been in Gotham and he doesn't belong in the manor anyway and this isn't his home anymore. So it shouldn't hurt, that this stupid fucking door doesn't smell like him. It really shouldn't.

It shouldn't, but . . . but he still feels off, kind of, and he just . . . he isn't really . . .

He feels off. Really, really off.

The door is really bothering him. And he really wants a cookie. And . . . and something . . .

Something's wrong. He's forgetting something.

Is he forgetting something?

Jason frowns to himself and pulls out his burner again. Checks the notes app. Checks his calendar. Checks his . . .

Wait.

Jason stares at his apps.

Stares at his cycle tracker, which he hasn't opened all month.

Or all of last month.

Stress heat, he reminds himself abruptly. Stress heats throw off people's cycles all the time. And he's never been all that regular anyway, really, especially since dying and getting dumped in the pit.

Except he's been being an overemotional absolute fucking lunatic for weeks now and he already misses Roy and Kori after three lousy days and he came to the fucking manor without even fucking meaning to and . . .

Fuck.

Jason, very calmly, unlocks the front door with the key he's never once used. Then he bolts into the manor and beelines for the second-nearest bathroom, because Bruce is always over-prepared and that's the one where they always used to keep the pads and tampons and birth control and fucking pregnancy tests.

And still is, apparently.

Jason finds a test. He takes the test.

He sits down to wait for the test.

He doesn't think a single damn thing, because it'd be pointless. He doesn't have all the information. No point in catastrophizing when he doesn't even know anything yet.

So he doesn't think.

The timer on Jason's phone flashes. He looks at the test.

It's positive.

And if it's accurate, then doing the math, "bred" has got to be bleeding into his scent by now. Which Roy and Kori were probably already subconsciously noticing at least a week ago, so no fucking wonder they've been talking about their fucking feelings in the middle of fucking kill floors and saying they want to fucking mate him and won't stop sexting and fussing over him.

Shit.

He's pregnant. He's pregnant and he probably fucking smells pregnant and he's in the fucking manor like this.

He really is the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead.

. . . and he's pregnant.

Jason snaps the test in half and buries it in one of the hidden scent-blocked pockets at the bottom of his go-bag and just . . . thinks. Or tries to think, anyway. He's pregnant, and he was stupid enough to let himself come to the manor like he's actually a part of this pack–like he's a fucking traditionalist or a romantic coming home to present his pack with his pups and nest up with them all safe and protected until he whelps. Like this pack would even want his pups, much less want to put up with him and all his bullshit for that long.

God, he's such an idiot.

He should've fucking known. He should've just gone to the opposite side of the goddamn planet and denned down there and blocked Roy and Kori's numbers and deleted all the Bats' and broken his phone for good measure. He should've paid more attention to taking his birth control on time while he was on the road and not begged Roy and Kori to knot him raw for his heat no matter how good it'd felt. He should've . . . he should've . . .

He should've . . .

Jason paces from one end of the bathroom to the other. He paces back the other way. He thinks about panic-texting Roy and Kori for advice or sneaking out to get an abortion before anyone can find out he's bred or never telling anyone this happened ever or running away to Talia or having a fucking anxiety attack on the fucking bathroom floor.

He thinks, very briefly, about going and presenting the pack with his pups. Like he's an absolute fucking moron or something.

But he thinks about it, and once he's thought about it . . . once he's considered it . . .

Jason twists his hands together. Jason paces the bathroom. Jason grits his teeth.

Jason thinks about presenting the pack with his pups. Presenting the Wayne pack with his pups.

Not the Bat pack.

His hands fist against his sides. His shoulders tighten.

His stomach does nothing except for what it's already doing, which is carry a pup or two or . . . however many. Jason was a single, he semi-reliably knows. Roy was . . . maybe a single? He's pretty sure? And he only sired Lian on Cheshire, at least as far as Cheshire ever admitted to anyone. But Kori and Komand'r and Ryand'r were a litter of three, right? Or Jason thinks they were, anyway.

Probably asking Kori about that right now would be suspicious. Or at the very least give her and Roy the wrong idea about Jason's opinion of them all actually getting mated.

Not that it'd actually be the wrong idea so much as . . .

Fuck, who even knows which one of them actually knocked him up. Maybe both of them did–that happens sometimes, with omegas. Especially when the potential sires are alphas. Technically he thinks it's even possible for female betas, though that's a hell of a lot rarer and really more of a–

Just, Jesus, what in actual hell is Jason gonna do if he ends up whelping a half-alien kid in Gotham? Or if he has to explain to Lian that she's not her daddy's only pup anymore? Or if–

Jason pictures a sweet little redheaded newborn all nestled up to his chest, maybe softly glowing and floating or adorably stupid and wickedly clever or just ridiculously tiny and defenseless and all those other things all at once, and feels far, far too many feelings about the idea. His heart fucking hurts with how many feelings he feels about that fucking idea, in fact.

Alright. Ruled out sneaking out to get an abortion, apparently.

Dammit.

Jason can't actually be a real mom, though. He can't protect a pup with his lifestyle, much less properly raise one. Catherine at least tried even in the worst of her addiction, but that doesn’t mean she was in any place to actually do all that good a job, and Sheila was just an absolute piece of shit as both a dam and a person, and those are his only examples so far as "mothering" behavior goes because he is just not emotionally prepared to ever count Selina–and not even because of her actually being an alpha and therefore more the "fathering" type or all the times he tried to get her arrested back in the day. So just–just how would he ever know how to be a mom for some poor stupid kid who'd probably be just as much of a mouthy, difficult brat as he'd always been? How would he know how to be a mom for a kid genetically crazy enough to jack the fucking Batmobile's tires? How?!

Maybe . . . maybe Roy would want them, though, or . . . or something. He wants Lian even though she's Cheshire's, after all. And like, Jason is also a fucking murderer, yeah, but he’s at least never done it for the fucking money. And who knows, maybe Kori would want them herself, if they were hers. Like–that might be a thing, for all he knows. She’s got worse people than him in her immediate nuclear family, for fuck’s sake. She might not care about the pup having a dam like him any more than Roy probably would.

Jason would have to actually ask to know if either of them would actually want a pup that was half him, of course, which just sounds like some fresh fucking hell right there. Just . . . absolute and total hell, yeah.

If they didn’t, though . . . well, he couldn't put the pup up for adoption unless he was absolutely sure they weren't Kori's, given the whole alien superpowers and horrible genetic experiments issue, obviously, but that's what DNA tests are for, right? And even if they were, he could probably–

. . . wait, fuck, does he maybe have, like–alien royalty in his gut right now? Is that an actual concern that he has to actually be concerned about?

Fuuuuuck, it really might be.

Well, that'd be fun to explain to Bruce.

. . . not that Jason is actually going to be explaining any of this to Bruce, of course. Ever. Just–fuck that, fully and completely.

Please let Tamaran as a whole just not care about this pup, like, ever. Just–never. Please.

Please.

They shouldn’t, at least, because why the hell would they? Jason is slightly undead and fully murderous Crime Alley trash with no prospects and no legal identity and no pack that would ever claim him. There isn't a single planet in this or any galaxy that would be happy about hearing one of its princesses knocked up someone like him. Best-case scenario, they just cut the kid out of the line of succession completely and never ever ask them to visit.

Maybe he should just be hoping it's Roy's pup. Or pups. Or whatever.

Still could be Roy and Kori's pups, of course. That's still a disaster that could very easily be happening right now.

Jason tries to imagine raising a pup that knew they were superpowered alien royalty alongside a completely human pup that knew that their sire already had another pup and just . . . does not want to deal with that particular potential parenting minefield. Ever.

Fuck, talk about sibling rivalry. And that without even considering Komand'r being in the family tree. Or him and his whole . . . everything with Tim, basically.

Please, please let the universe at least have the mercy to let this pup be a single, Jason prays. He just seriously can't have any more attempted fratricide or whatever in the not-technically-family. He really can't deal with that. He's hit his lifetime limit. He's done. Finished. All wrapped up. Tapped out.

Or he's currently carrying the second coming of Cain and Abel. Whichever.

Fuck his life.

Jason exhales. Inhales. Tries not to panic or catastrophize or freak the fuck out. Really, really wants an Alfred cookie.

Really wants Alfred. Alfred could fix this. Alfred could make this better. Alfred could–could–

Jason wants Alfred. Jason wants–

Jason exhales.

Inhales.

Jason . . .

Jason catches a scent. Jason . . . follows the scent.

Yes. He follows the scent. The scent is what he wants. The scent will make things better. The scent will . . .

Jason leaves the bathroom. Crosses the foyer. Goes down the hall. Heads into the back of the house, where everything smells like tea and coffee and sweet, sweet things.

And like a very calm and steady and nurturing beta.

A very specific calm and steady and nurturing beta.

Jason walks into the kitchen. There's a couple of other packmates at the table; he ignores them. He loves them, obviously, but they're not who he's here for.

Grandpa is standing at the counter, pouring tea. It smells nice. Soothing. Sweet.

Not as nice as Grandpa's soft and steady pheromones, though.

"Master Jason, what a pleasant surprise," Grandpa says, setting down the tea to smile at him in a way that makes Jason feel very, very warm and very, very overwhelmed. "I didn't even hear you knock. Would you like a cup?"

Jason is vaguely aware that he should say something that counts as an actual response to . . . any of that, he guesses.

He really doesn't care, though. He just drops his go-bag full of Red Hood's gear and all his useless weapons and the snapped-in-half pregnancy test on the kitchen floor and heads straight over to Grandpa and ducks his face down to bury in his neck and breath in his scent. Soft. Steady.

Pack.

"Master Jason, are you–" Grandpa starts, sounding alarmed, and Jason grabs his hand and puts it on his own stomach and just–

Purrs.

Grandpa inhales. Gets Jason's scent too, Jason assumes.

And chokes, very quietly.

"Jason," he says, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Jason purrs again.

"Holy crap," a packmate says disbelievingly. It's–Little Brother. Not Pup Brother or New Brother or Big Brother. Little Brother, who smells like too much coffee and not enough sleep and sounds very surprised about something, and–unsurprisingly–has a laptop set up on the table in front of him.

"Alfred, oh my god, I have literally never heard you say a single one of our names without a ‘Miss’ or a 'Master' or anything attached, is Jason fucking dying?" the other packmate at the table demands worriedly. Loud Sister–not Quiet Sister. Loud Sister smells like less coffee than Little Brother and a rush of nervous energy and also sounds very surprised. Jason wonders why.

Well, it's not really important, he guesses.

"Present," he croons lowly, pressing Grandpa's hand tighter against his stomach, and Grandpa puts his other hand on the back of Jason's neck and squeezes it very, very tight.

It feels nice.

Jason purrs again.

"Ohmygod," Loud Sister chokes.

"Jason," Grandpa says again, his voice all rough and aching as his fingers splay against Jason's stomach just where the pup should be. Or . . . pups? Maybe pups, yeah. More would be better, right? Lots of pups for the pack.

And lots of grandpups for Alpha.

That would be nice, Jason thinks, purring louder.

Jason nuzzles Grandpa's throat and leans down into him. Grandpa swallows. Tightens his grip on the back of Jason's neck. It still feels nice.

Jason thinks . . . it's been a long time, he thinks, since someone held his neck like this.

Too long.

"Okay, so he's definitely feral right now," Little Brother says. "And not in the pit rage way."

"Ohhhhh so very feral right now," Loud Sister agrees. Jason wonders who they're talking about, but isn't really worried about it either way. They're all in the pack den. They're all safe. So if somebody in the pack is feral right now, they can just ride it out here and they'll be fine. So it's fine. "But he came here? Like . . . I'm not being crazy, right, he's presenting his pup to us right now, isn't he? Like–really presenting it to us?"

"Well, to Alfred," Little Brother says. "But uh . . . yeah, I think so."

"Grandpa," Jason says contentedly, squeezing the back of Grandpa's hand again. Grandpa makes a choked noise. "Great-Grandpa."

"Fuck, I think I kinda wanna cry," Loud Sister says.

"Would you like to . . . nest, perhaps? Master Jason?" Grandpa asks carefully, clearing his throat. Jason considers the question. Nest means warm. Safe. Good things for the pup. Or pups?

Whichever.

"Nest," he agrees contentedly, nuzzling Grandpa's throat again. His scent is so nice. Jason's missed it so, so much.

Jason missed Grandpa's scent before he ever even knew it existed, he thinks.

"Then would you prefer your bedroom or the front living room for it? Or . . . somewhere else?" Grandpa asks even more carefully. Jason considers again. The bedroom would be easier to defend. Smaller. Harder for the pack to come visit, though. More out of the way. And if he needed backup, they'd be farther off. The front living room is right up by the foyer, though. Easy for everyone to check in when they come home or before they leave. Lots of room for them all to fit in it, too. He can't really think of a better option for that.

"Living room," Jason decides. Grandpa makes another choked noise.

"Of course, Master Jason," he says, his voice all tight. "Please come with me.”

Jason purrs.

Grandpa takes his hand and takes him to the front living room. Jason knows where it is, obviously, but it's nice being taken anyway. Grandpa wants him to nest. Grandpa wants his pups. He thinks Jason did good and he's pleased with him for doing good.

Good, Jason thinks.

"I'll just be a moment, Master Jason," Grandpa says thickly, then ushers him through the door and leaves him in the living room. Little Brother and Loud Sister linger in the foyer, Little Brother’s laptop tucked under his arm. Jason didn't even notice them following them.

Well, it's helpful that they did.

"Pillows," he tells them matter-of-factly because there aren’t really very many nesting pillows in here, and then starts fussing over the blankets draped over the couch as they both share a brief glance before heading off, hopefully in search of the requested pillows.

The pup definitely needs pillows, Jason knows. And his nest definitely needs pillows, too.

It won’t be big enough, if there aren’t more pillows.

Jason turns the front living room upside down and most of the assorted blankets and pillows that he finds in it smell like pack, so they're good, but a couple smell more like Pup Brother's suitors, so those ones Jason tosses out into the foyer. Pup Brother's suitors are . . . fine, he guesses? But not for his nest.

"What on earth are you doing in there, Todd?" Pup Brother himself asks, eyeing the crumpled blankets on the foyer floor. Quiet Sister is standing beside him and looks excited, leaning forward towards the doorway on her tiptoes. Jason didn't hear them coming, but he wasn't all that worried about listening for anyone either. Also, they're both very quiet when they move anyway.

"Nest," he says. He doesn't think he's being all that subtle here, but Pup Brother didn't get a traditional pack upbringing, he knows. At least, not the kind that allowed for nesting. That's not really how the League works.

He definitely never nested when he was with the League.

". . . nest?" Pup Brother asks, and just a little hinted flash of curiosity crosses the back of his eyes for a moment. Does Pup Brother ever build nests, Jason wonders? He's an omega too. He should learn how, if he hasn't yet.

"Nest," he repeats firmly, then gestures beckoningly with a blanket that smells acceptably of packscent. Nobody specifically stronger than anybody else; just an easy tangle of a whole mess of different packmates all mixed in together. Pup Brother frowns, looking confused.

Nest! Quiet Sister signs delightedly before giving Pup Brother an encouraging push into the living room. She doesn't come in herself, though. Which–Quiet Sister is an alpha, of course, so that makes sense. Jason just wasn't sure if she'd know the etiquette, all things considered.

Well, he isn’t sure if Pup Brother does either, really, but that’s fine. He’s the one who’s supposed to teach Pup Brother that kind of thing anyway.

"Er," Pup Brother says doubtfully, glancing between them. "Do you require . . . assistance, Todd?"

Jason dumps an armful of throw pillows on him, then starts demonstrating how to arrange them on the floor. Pup Brother frowns again, holding the unused pillows in his arms and observing the building process intently. Jason’s pleased by that. Pup Brother should learn this. Pup Brother should learn this, so he's showing Pup Brother this. So he's being good! Very good. A good omega. Yes!

They're both being good.

So that's good.

Jason purrs some more. Quiet Sister flutters her hands happily, still waiting in the doorway. Jason wants to invite her in, but really needs to get the nest more established first.

He'll let her in the nest itself, he already knows. Once it's done, obviously. Quiet Sister probably hasn't really been in a nest before–Pup Brother is the only other omega in the pack, after all, and she doesn't have an omega mate or any omega friends, so when would she have?

. . . unless she's still courting that weird flirty omega from Little Brother's other pack, maybe? The sort-of-alien-sort-of-human one that makes cloud castles and almost drowned with her in a basement that one time or whatever. Whatever his name is.

Or . . . wait, was Little Brother the one courting him?

Hm.

Well, maybe they both were. Jason isn't really sure, come to think.

He'll ask later, he decides, and lays down some more throw pillows. Either way he's still inviting Quiet Sister into his nest once it's done. Quiet Sister deserves all the nests she can get.

Jason hopes she'll like his.

He finishes with the throw pillows and starts looking for more blankets. Grandpa is back in the doorway with a whole stack of them, which is very conveniently timed and therefore very Grandpa.

"I was not aware that Todd could become feral without invoking the pit," Pup Brother says skeptically.

"I suppose maternal instinct has somewhat superseded its effects for the time being," Grandpa replies with a wry, warm smile, looking a bit misty-eyed. Jason purrs at him again, then takes the stack of blankets and starts shaking them out and sorting through them for suitability. They all smell good–all smell like pack.

"‘Maternal instinct’?" Pup Brother repeats blankly.

"That seems to be why Master Jason is here tonight, Master Damian," Grandpa says. "He is presenting us with his pup."

"He–oh!" Pup Brother says, his eyes widening as Quiet Sister beams. "I didn't–realize. Er. Should I be . . . in here?"

Jason teach, Quiet Sister signs. Pup Brother looks flustered. Damian learn.

"Oh," Pup Brother says just a little weakly. "I–er. Yes. Very well."

Jason purrs at him too, then resumes sorting the new blankets. This one smells like New Brother, and this one smells like Big Brother and his mate, and this one . . .

Oh.

Jason . . . pauses. The blanket in his hands is soft and heavy and dark and smells like . . . smells like . . .

It smells like Alpha.

"Is that one . . . acceptable, Master Jason?" Grandpa asks quietly.

Jason rubs his thumbs across his grip on the blanket. Buries his mouth in the edge of it just long enough to taste the pheromones scenting it. Breathes it in.

Yes. It smells like Alpha.

Their alpha.

Jason lays the Alpha-scented blanket over the bottom of his growing nest like a foundation, purring soft and reverent as he tucks all the corners in, and then resumes building from there. Grandpa makes a very quiet choked noise again.

"Delivery," Little Brother says as he and Loud Sister reappear in the doorway with more nesting pillows than Jason actually realized were in the entire pack den. Good, he thinks, crooning approvingly as he nudges Pup Brother to go and fetch them. Good for his mates' pups. Lots of pillows. Lots of warm and soft.

Just–lots.

"Do we know who sired Todd's pup?" Pup Brother asks warily as he ferries back the nesting pillows just a little awkwardly. It’s going to take him a few trips to get them all, but Jason doesn't mind. There's no rush.

"He hasn't said," Grandpa says.

"Surely we should inquire, then," Pup Brother says. "It seems . . . important."

"Damian, you and Bruce are literally the only people in this pack currently living with any kind of a blood relative," Loud Sister tells him wryly. "Except for Jason and the baby now, I guess. And also that is a super-rude kind of question to ask somebody who's in feral drop anyway."

"Well, they could be someone dangerous," Pup Brother grumbles. "Or a civilian, in which case they would need to be retrieved as soon as possible."

"‘Retrieved’?" Little Brother asks with a frown. "What for?”

"They would not be safe outside the manor," Pup Brother says. "The sire of the first pups of our pack's next generation would be a valuable target for our enemies."

". . . okay, good point there," Little Brother mutters as he and Loud Sister both wince. "Uh, Jason? Who'd you spend your last heat with?"

"Mine," Jason replies, contentedly fluffing the new layer of pillows in his nest. It’s much more important than that question.

". . . your what, exactly?" Loud Sister tries.

"Mine," Jason repeats, still more absorbed in the process of nest-building than anything else. They can talk once his nest is done, he figures. If they really have to, he means. "My . . . mmmmm. My sun. And my arsenal."

"Please don't mean a Kryptonian when you say 'sun'," Little Brother mutters under his breath. "Or an assassin when you say 'arsenal'."

"I love them," Jason replies in satisfaction, and lays down another blanket. This one smells like Grandpa. It's so nice.

"Oh wow, Jason just actually admitted an emotional attachment willingly and in cold blood and without triggering the pit," Loud Sister says, her eyes wide. "Yeah, okay, we reaaaaally shouldn't have asked about the sire."

"No, Damian's right," Little Brother says, shaking his head. "This is important. They could be in danger. Or, uh, planning to attack us. Depending. Are your sun and your arsenal civilians, Jason?"

Jason laughs.

That's such a funny question.

"They're gonna burn down Gotham for me," he says dreamily.

"Not the most reassuring answer but noted," Little Brother says. "Are they going to burn it down with, I don't know, specifically heat vision?"

Jason laughs again.

"I'm just gonna call Kon real quick," Little Brother says, pulling out his phone.

"Isn't he an omega?" Loud Sister asks doubtfully.

"Yeah, but Supergirl's an alpha," Little Brother says. "And, relatedly, so is Power Girl."

Jason takes a moment to think about Power Girl. Just, like . . . as a person and everything. And as an experience.

He purrs.

". . . yeah, definitely call Kon," Loud Sister says, half-eyeing him for some reason.

Little Brother calls.

"Hey, Tim," Little Brother's phone hums as Jason's busy demonstrating how to build up the sides of the nest for Pup Brother, who's still watching the process intently. "What's up, dude?"

Oh. It's the cloud castle omega, Jason realizes.

"I forget which one of you's courting him," he muses distractedly as he reinforces the nest a little more. He’s pretty sure he knew, anyway. But maybe not.

"Wait, who's getting courted?" Little Brother's phone asks, sounding puzzled.

"Nothing! No one!" Little Brother sputters as he turns red. So maybe he's the one doing the courting, then? But also Quiet Sister is leaning in towards the phone with a very pleased expression on her face, so maybe not.

"Kon," she says happily.

"Oh, hey there, Batbabe," Little Brother's phone says, sounding pretty pleased too. "Nice to hear from you again."

"Kon," Quiet Sister repeats in a low and carrying alpha-voiced rumble, which may or may not count as an actual response to her, and the phone giggles flirtatiously. Little Brother makes a face.

"Kon, do you know if Power Girl might've heat-partnered Hood recently?" he cuts in quickly. "Or . . . ever, I guess?"

"I don't know, Tim, do you remember how we talked about boundaries and how some people still have them even when they're wearing coordinating superhero costumes?" his phone asks dryly.

"Yes," Little Brother very clearly lies.

"Yeah, well, Power Girl and I definitely have them," his phone says. "Despite the super-hearing and the X-ray vision and how absolutely desperately I want her to throw me down and fucking rail me, which should tell you a lot."

"Jason just showed up at the manor pregnant and feral with literally no warning and when we asked him who the sire was he just called them his 'sun'," Little Brother says.

". . . alright well so much for boundaries, I guess," his phone says. "Lemme text her."

"Thank you," Little Brother says in relief.

"You're just lucky that you're cute and I'm easy," his phone scoffs. "Hmmm. She says 'no, does he need me to?' Lucky bitch."

"Dammit," Little Brother says. “Alright, thanks anyway. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Such a romantic,” his phone teases. “Speaking of heat-partnering, you bringin’ Cass along next time?”

Quiet Sister rumbles warmly. Little Brother’s phone laughs, then purrs back. Little Brother looks briefly sour.

“Sure, great, thanks,” he says. “Bye, Kon.”

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave,” his phone coos, and Little Brother ends the call with an exasperated expression.

“Why is he like this,” he mutters. “Why don’t I have better taste?”

“Because you are an idiot,” Pup Brother informs him. Little Brother eyes him dubiously.

“Helpful as always, demon brat, thank you,” he says. “Alright, it’s not Power Girl, so small favors. I don’t know how concerned we should be at this point, honestly. It might just be, I don’t know, some random assassin’s kid or something.”

“Ugh, I hope not, a Kryptonian’s pup would’ve been way less of a problem than an assassin’s,” Loud Sister huffs, making a face as she folds her arms.

“. . . explain that logic, please,” Little Brother says.

“Kryptonian babies don’t get superpowers until the sun happens to them, so they wouldn’t accidentally hurt him kicking around in-utero or anything, so we’ve got nine months ‘til shit might get complicated,” Loud Sister replies reasonably. “But assassin babies come with at least one guaranteed murderous relative and probably also-murderous rivals of said relative who are all already grown-ass murderous adults that probably don’t care about stabbing pregnant people.”

“I hate our lives,” Little Brother mutters, putting his face in his hands.

“Assassins will not be a concern,” Grandpa says dismissively, and Jason feels warm and safe. Anyone else, that might just be an assumption. From Grandpa, it’s a promise.

He loves him so much. He loves all of them, obviously, but Grandpa he loves so much. He purrs happily in his direction, and Grandpa's face goes soft for a moment, and then solid as steel.

“You’re safe here, my boy,” he says quietly. and Jason purrs again and stacks up some more nesting pillows. He knows that. Grandpa’s here, so of course he does. The pack’s here. He’s not alone this time, so he’s safe.

And Alpha will be home soon, too.

So yes. He’s safe. His pup is safe.

He wouldn’t have brought them here if they wouldn’t be.

Jason stacks up a few more nesting pillows; drapes another blanket over them and tucks in all the loose corners of it. He’s making sloping walls. He likes those the best. They’re the nicest.

( Mama built her nests with sloping walls. real Mama. not the liar.

he always wanted his nests to be like hers. )

This blanket smells like Loud Sister. A little bit like Quiet Sister too, but mostly like her. It’s nice too. Jason checks the corners of it, then gets more pillows.

“I was unaware this was such an involved process,” Pup Brother says, sounding perplexed.

“Depends on both the omega and the situation, but yeah, kinda tends to be,” Loud Sister says with a shrug, then glances towards the door. “Who’s–”

Brother, Quiet Sister signs, unconcerned. Jason perks reflexively, because there’s only two options left for that sign, and–

Ah. No, he can smell New Brother coming; not Big Brother. Well, that’s alright. Jason doesn’t know New Brother very well yet, but he should be here. Obviously he should. The whole pack should. He’s pupped now, so they’re all just going to have to hurry up and get home to meet them. Her. Him. It?

. . . whatever. Jason doesn’t even understand most of the human genders, much less any Tamaranean ones. The pup can just tell him when they figure it out.

“Hey, what’s everybody doing in–” New Brother starts to ask as he walks into the foyer, and then catches sight of Jason and startles in surprise. “Oh!”

Jason hums in idle acknowledgement at him, but doesn’t look up from the nest. New Brother is a beta; he doesn’t need nesting lessons. Though he could come in, Jason supposes.

To the room, he means. Not the nest. He doesn’t know him well enough for that yet.

. . . maybe later, though. Mm. Yeah–later, maybe.

But Pup Brother and Quiet Sister first.

“Jason came home,” Little Brother says. “Came home pregnant, specifically. He’s presenting his pup to–well, he presented them to Alfred, technically, I think the rest of us were more incidental in that. But he did let Steph and I get him pillows and he’s teaching Damian how to nest. Also he's definitely feral as hell right now, so keep that in mind.”

“Huh,” New Brother says, looking bemused. “I . . . was not under the impression that he would literally ever do any of that. Except maybe for the going feral part, though in that case I would’ve expected more blood and screaming and murder. Uh–no offense.”

“None taken, I’m sure, Master Duke,” Grandpa says dryly.

“I didn’t mean–I just, you know, I didn’t think he really considered the manor home anymore,” New Brother says awkwardly, and Jason . . . Jason feels a little unsettled, and thinks . . . is that . . . right, or . . . ?

“This manor will be a home to Master Jason for as long as it stands,” Grandpa says, simple and certain, and Jason is immediately soothed. Grandpa knows, after all. So if Grandpa says so, it’s true. “To all of you. No matter what.”

Jason loves him so much, he thinks contentedly, and layers a few more pillows.

“We should call Bruce, actually,” Little Brother says. “Do you think we should call Bruce?”

“No,” Grandpa says. “Master Bruce will just rile himself up on the way home if we call him and show up in an alpha snit. Best to just let him arrive as scheduled. He should be on his way by now anyway.”

“I guess, yeah,” Little Brother says, biting his lip. “I don’t know, I just feel like we should call him.”

“We should call Dick,” New Brother says. “Speaking of people who’re gonna get riled about this.”

“Ooo, good point,” Loud Sister says with a wince, tapping her lip. “Where is he tonight again?”

“Master Dick and Miss Barbara are already enroute as well,” Grandpa says, linking his hands neatly in front of himself. “I did call them. Though I will admit that I did not specify the purpose of my call, only that there was vital pack business to be attended to at the manor.”

“Alfred, I’m pretty sure you gave them a heart attack,” Loud Sister says with a wince. “Like you definitely gave them a heart attack.”

“I did not say that it was urgently vital,” Grandpa replies, clearly unconcerned. “Master Jason, are you hungry? Would you like something for the pup?”

Jason pauses consideringly, mulling that over, then nods agreeably. The pup needs fed, yes. The pup definitely needs fed. Especially if there's more than one. They have to grow up strong and healthy. They need taken care of.

“For the pup,” he confirms. And he still wants a cookie, too.

He really wants a cookie.

A cookie would be nice.

“Just a moment, then, Master Jason,” Grandpa says, then heads off towards the kitchen. Jason hums contentedly to himself–because Grandpa–and then goes back to showing Pup Brother how to nest.

“Damian is also fine with this?” New Brother mutters in an aside to Little Brother and Loud Sister. “Like, that’s a thing?”

“Damian is, more pressingly, not deaf,” Pup Brother says dubiously. New Brother looks momentarily embarrassed, then just shrugs.

“Look, you can’t tell me it’s not a valid question,” he says. Pup Brother glowers at him.

“Todd is an omega who trained within the League of Assassins,” he says. “He is the most acceptable candidate to provide me with these teachings.”

“They nest in the League?” Loud Sister asks skeptically.

“No,” Pup Brother says, the corner of his jaw momentarily tightening. “They do not.”

“Oh,” she says, just barely wincing. Jason purrs encouragingly at Pup Brother, then reaches out and tugs him in close enough to rub his wrists along the scent glands in his throat, scenting him with nest safe-nest-safe-nest pack-omega-protect. Pup Brother stands very, very still for it very, very stiffly. Jason purrs again, then nuzzles his hair before taking the rest of the pillows he’s holding from him and working on working them into the nest. Pup Brother stays still one moment longer, then heads back to the pillows left by the door and scoops them up to bring back. Jason purrs approvingly again, and a very faint note of . . . acknowledgment, maybe, enters Pup Brother’s scent.

Pup Brother’s scent very rarely gives off anything but challenge or disdain, if it gives off anything at all. The only ones in the pack with more control over their pheromones are Quiet Sister and Grandpa, Jason thinks. Even Alpha can’t hold himself back as well.

Alpha grew up different, of course, Jason remembers idly, and fluffs up a few of the pillows before placing them.

He turns over the pillows consideringly once or twice, then fluffs them again. After a while Grandpa comes back with a small stack of folded clothes and a tray of little sandwiches and cut-up celery sticks and apple slices with peanut butter to dip them in, and Jason very vaguely remembers being twelve years old and consistently not hungry for maybe the first time he could remember and that one weird, stupid phase where he’d refused to eat anything without cheap store-brand peanut butter being involved and driven Grandpa very politely up the wall, probably, but Grandpa had found about eight million different ways to use the stuff and Alpha hadn’t complained or forced him to eat anything he didn’t want or anything like that.

Psychologically, Jason knows it’d probably been some stupid regression thing or just because he’d never really been in a situation where he’d been able to be actually picky about food before. But at the time . . . at the time, it’d felt like proof that Grandpa and Alpha had really cared. Like, even more than getting taken in off the street to begin with had.

It’d been . . . weird. Weird that that’d made him feel that way.

Weirder than they’d put up with it, though.

So seeing Grandpa bring him peanut butter now is . . .

Jason thinks about crying, but it makes more sense to hug Grandpa and nuzzle into the scent glands in his throat, even with the high stiff collar of his shirt halfway in the way. It doesn’t matter, because Grandpa smells familiar and safe and Grandpa is familiar and safe and he brought him peanut butter like maybe he . . . remembers, maybe, that one weird stupid phase Jason’d had. Like maybe he . . . cares, still.

There’s cookies on the tray too. Jaffa cakes.

Jason hasn’t had a jaffa cake since before he died, he’s pretty sure.

If he has, he knows it couldn’t possibly have compared to Grandpa’s.

Jason purrs into Grandpa’s half-covered scent gland, then takes the tray and sets it up neatly just outside the nest, in easy reach but not in any packmates’ paths. Easy to step around. He picks out the nicest-looking jaffa cake and pushes it on Pup Brother, who looks puzzled but takes it.

“Er,” Pup Brother says, frowning at the jaffa cake in his hand. “I have reached my necessary caloric intake for the day, Todd.”

Jason doesn’t know why that matters, so just watches him expectantly. Pup Brother looks awkward, glancing towards the others. Jason prods insistently at the jaffa cake.

“Master Jason seems to want you to eat as well, Master Damian,” Grandpa supplies helpfully, seeming faintly amused, and Pup Brother looks puzzled again.

“Why?” he asks. “I am not the one with pups to feed.”

“You are a pup to feed, Damian,” Little Brother says wryly. Pup Brother’s expression turns dubious.

“Hardly,” he says. “The fact that I have not yet presented is irrelevant to my capacity to feed myself.”

Jason doesn’t really know what Pup Brother’s going on about, but he needs to eat. He pokes meaningfully at the jaffa cake again, a little concerned. Is Pup Brother not feeling well? Is he sick? He doesn’t smell sick, or like he’s in pain or anything like that either. But he’s still not eating the jaffa cake, and it’s one of Grandpa’s.

“I think if you don’t eat it you’re gonna stress him out,” New Brother says. Pup Brother scowls at him. Maybe he really doesn’t feel good, Jason thinks, and presses the back of his hand to his forehead just in case, frowning at the thought. “See?”

“This is ridiculous,” Pup Brother mutters, but he takes a bite of his jaffa cake and Jason immediately relaxes and starts purring encouragingly at him, twisting his wrist to rub his scent glands along Pup Brother’s hair with the scent of pack-pack-BROTHER-pack. Good. Pup Brother isn’t sick.

Pup Brother . . . blinks, very slowly, and then eats the rest of his jaffa cake. Jason purrs louder and scents him a little more. He’s such a good pup. Jason wants to–

The front door slams open. Everyone jumps, but Jason isn’t worried about it, because at the same time he hears Big Brother’s voice shout, “ALFRED!”

So it’s just Big Brother, and Grandpa will take care of him. It’s fine.

“Master Dick,” Grandpa says, turning towards the front door with a mildly disapproving expression, still holding the clothes he brought with the tray. Jason wonders what they’re for. “Please refrain from shouting in the den.”

“You said it was vital pack business!” Big Brother’s voice protests. Jason can’t see him from here, but isn’t worried about it. Big Brother will come into view soon enough, and then Jason will let him in the living room. Not the nest, but definitely the living room. “You haven’t said that since the last time the Court of Owls was making trouble!”

“I didn’t say it was urgent,” Grandpa says, mildly put out.

“What happened?” Big Brother’s mate asks, and Jason hears the slight squeak of her wheels. They should oil her chair, he thinks absentmindedly. It’s safer if she can move quieter. “And why is everyone in the foyer?”

“Everyone is not in the foyer, actually,” Loud Sister says.

“Bruce and Selina are still on the way, aren’t they?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “My news tracker didn’t ID them as leaving the gala until pretty recently.”

“Yeah,” Little Brother says. “She meant Jason and Damian aren’t out here, though.”

Big Brother and his mate both pause. Jason lays out another blanket.

“. . . ‘out here’?” Big Brother repeats.

“We are in the living room,” Pup Brother says, sounding annoyed. “Obviously.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Big Brother asks in confusion, then leans into line of sight to look into the living room past the others. Then he goes very, very still. Jason wonders why, idly, and shakes out another blanket. “. . . Jason. Are you nesting? In the living room?”

Jason huffs, because obviously, and then drops the blanket to go over to the doorway and grab Big Brother’s wrist and yank him into the living room past the others. He’s taking too long.

“Present,” Jason croons anyway, because the important part is that Big Brother is finally here, and he pulls Big Brother’s hand to his stomach.

“Oh,” Big Brother chokes, his eyes widening. Jason just pushes his nose into one of the scent glands in the other’s neck and nuzzles in contentedly. Big Brother smells strong and sure and safe, like always.

“Oh, you got the full intro,” Little Brother observes, sounding a little surprised. “Only Alfred’s gotten that so far.”

“Jason,” Big Brother says, his voice still choked, and then Jason has to suffer through being hugged with Big Brother’s free arm, but it’s fine. Big Brother’s just like that.

Anyway, Jason can keep his nose in his neck for a little longer this way anyway.

“Mmm,” he hums, nuzzling Big Brother again. “Uncle. Don’t spoil ‘em.”

“I’m gonna spoil ‘em so bad, Little Wing,” Big Brother says with a shaky little laugh, squeezing his arm around him tighter. Jason grumbles in annoyance and bites him, but not too hard.

The bruising won’t last that long, he means.

. . . probably.

Big Brother probably is gonna spoil his pup, the dumbass. Jason’s gonna have to make sure he doesn’t go overboard. A little bit of spoiling is probably okay, though. Like–just giving the pup a little bit of it can’t hurt. Jason doesn’t really know if he knows how to spoil a pup himself, so . . . Big Brother’s gonna be useful for that, yeah.

Though he’s still gonna have to make sure the idiot doesn’t go overboard, obviously.

Big Brother squeezes him tighter again. Jason bites him harder, then shoves him off. Big Brother coos happily and Jason rolls his eyes.

Moron.

“Master Jason,” Grandpa says, and holds out the clothes in his arms. Jason realizes they’re probably meant for him, so he takes them. They’re soft. Nice-feeling.

And they smell like . . .

Jason holds the folded stack of them against his chest and breathes in the scent of Alpha, and settles into his own bones.

“We have been unable to ascertain the identity of the sire,” Pup Brother informs Big Brother. “Todd did not provide a clear response when questioned.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t even know if he’s seeing anyone,” Big Brother says. “Well, does it matter?”

“As Dames pointed out earlier, if they’re either an assassin or an easy target?” Loud Sister says. “Definitely. Like, very, very definitely.”

“. . . point,” Big Brother says, making a face. “What did he say?”

“He called them his sun and his arsenal,” Little Brother says, sounding bothered. “That was all he said. Power Girl said she hasn’t heat-partnered him, thought we probably should ask Supergirl too just in case, since–”

“Tim,” Big Brother cuts him off, staring at him as his mate muffles a low snicker. Little Brother pauses, then blinks at him.

“What?” he says.

"Jason called them his sun," Big Brother repeats, raising an eyebrow. "And his arsenal.”

"Yes?" Little Brother says.

"You know, I remember your friends' names, Timmy," Big Brother says.

"Wh–oh!" Little Brother groans, smacking a hand against the side of his head as Big Brother's mate starts laughing outright. "Starfire and Red Arrow?! Seriously?!"

"In Jay's defense, I might've talked them both up a bit back when he was young and impressionable," Big Brother replies wryly. "Or maybe a lot. So like, good job on bagging them both at once, Little Wing, I'm impressed, never actually pulled that one off myself."

"You and the damn redheads," Big Brother's mate snorts. Which . . . her hair is also red? So Jason's not really sure what that's about. "And how's Wally doing today, honey?"

"I'm sure I don't know, honey," Big Brother lies primly, folding his arms. "So how was their double-team game, Little Wing? Just for totally innocent and unselfish reasons that have nothing to do with either any unsatisfied teenage curiosity or outstanding bets with Vic or my own personal spank bank."

"They want flowers," Jason hums contentedly, finally unfolding the clothes Grandpa’s brought him. They smell so much like Alpha he must’ve slept in them last night.

"Flowers?" Big Brother tilts his head questioningly as Jason kicks off his boots and strips off his own clothes and bare remnants of weapons and armor one-handed, letting it all drop carelessly to the floor. It’s not any more important than Red Hood’s gear, right now.

"And stars," he says, still more contented.

"Stars?" Big Brother wrinkles his nose.

"Yeah," Jason says, stepping into Alpha’s soft sleep pants and pulling on his T-shirt. They fit, which is funny. Alpha used to seem like the biggest thing in the world, even face-to-face with Killer Croc or Clayface or just . . . whoever.

Good, Jason thinks, smoothing the shirt down over his stomach carefully, even though nothing’s even showing yet. Then maybe the pup will think he’s someplace that safe too.

Big Brother blinks at him. Blinks again.

Blinks one more time.

"Oh my god, are they actually mating you?!" he yelps, clapping his hands over his mouth as his eyes widen in delight. "Little Wing! My baby boy! Please let me be your man of honor, I will wear a bridesmaids' dress if I have to, I don't even care.”

Jason is admittedly tempted by the offer, if only for the entertainment factor of watching Big Brother learn to walk in heels. Although even being a male beta Big Brother would still probably look distractingly better in the dress than any of the other bridesmaids, so maybe not . . . ?

Also, really, Big Brother can probably already run in heels, knowing him.

Maybe not stilettos, though.

Hmmmmm.

Jason does like stilettos.

"A bridesmaids' dress?" Big Brother's mate asks wryly, raising an eyebrow.

"Babs, baby, you don't even know what I would do to get Jason to have an actual mating ceremony that I could actually attend," Big Brother says feelingly, waving his hands in the air between them. "Wearing a bridesmaids' dress is the least of it."

. . . Jason plucks at the collar of his borrowed shirt and wonders if Alpha would give him away, if he asked him to. If he'd . . . if he'd like to.

Want to.

If he'd dance with him, at the reception. That's normal, for the pack alpha to dance with the . . . with the bride.

So maybe Alpha would, if Jason asked him to.

Jason bites his lip, considering, and then just . . . goes back to the nest, and back to building it up. It's almost done–it doesn't need much more work. He's mostly just onto finishing touches now, really, and showing Pup Brother how to make sure everything's all comfortable and secure.

"Are nests typically this size?" Pup Brother asks, peering over his shoulder with poorly-concealed curiosity. "It seems somewhat larger than necessary."

"Depends how many people you want in 'em and, like, said people’s feelings about personal space," Big Brother replies with a shrug. "Seen both bigger and smaller, depending. You should see Donna's heat nests, they're amazing. Like, they're basically fortresses and we can literally fit the whole Titans roster in them at once, reserves included. Apparently it's an Amazon thing, they just pile on the sisters like crazy."

"That seems . . . excessive," Pup Brother says with a grimace. "Although quite frankly I cannot imagine wanting to be in a nest with anyone else at all. Certainly not while–compromised."

"I mean, maybe, but you might change your mind about that someday," Loud Sister tells him with a laugh. "I didn't ever think I'd care about nests until the first time an omega I liked invited me into one of theirs to cuddle and then, welllll . . ."

"Or if you ever get mated, you might want to then," Little Brother adds. "Partners that nest together report healthier relationships and deeper communication, and better socialization and emotional support for their pups."

"I do not 'cuddle'," Pup Brother sneers with utmost disdain. "And I in fact have no expectations of ever finding an alpha worthy of either my time or the gift of my womb."

"Isn't Jon an alpha, though?" Big Brother asks curiously, tilting his head with an expression of perfect innocence. "He's like your best friend. And that Colin kid's an alpha too, right? Wouldn't consider giving either of them a little time? Or just following Jason's example and going for broke on both?"

"I–that's–shut up and die, Grayson!" Pup Brother sputters indignantly as everyone else muffles laughter, his face bright red and own expression absolutely mortified. Big Brother grins winningly at him, all sly amusement. Pup Brother glares back darkly. "I will kill you and I will not regret the necessity of it."

"Okay, well, too bad for you but you've conditioned me to find murder threats adorable, so check and mate, pup," Big Brother replies with a wider grin.

"A promise is not a threat," Pup Brother retorts darkly, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Awwwww," Big Brother coos adoringly. Pup Brother hisses at him.

He seems grouchy, so Jason hugs him. Pup Brother bristles. Jason should probably hug him harder, he figures, and does.

“Todd!” Pup Brother sputters. Loud Sister and Little Brother start laughing, and New Brother muffles a snicker. Jason wonders what’s so funny, but it’s more important to hug Pup Brother and scent him with safe-safe-safe. Big Brother and his mate can handle whatever the others are distracted by, he figures. Or Quiet Sister or Grandpa. Or just whoever isn’t busy, he guesses.

He should get Pup Brother another jaffa cake, he decides, and drags him back over to the cookies.

“Todd!” Pup Brother squawks indignantly, attempting to escape his grip. He doesn’t use any nerve strikes, though, so Jason figures he’s not that serious about it and just sits him down on the edge of the nest and pushes another jaffa cake on him. Or two.

. . . maybe three. Three might be better.

“Oh my god, I would kill for my camera right now,” Little Brother says, still laughing. Pup Brother growls at him. Jason nuzzles him, then grooms his hair a little as he fusses him into eating the jaffa cakes.

“Should we call Kori and Roy?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “They can’t possibly know he’s pregnant and not either be here.”

“I mean, you’re assuming Jason didn’t deliberately ditch them, but point,” Big Brother says, his expression turning considering. “Or that he’d have told them he was pregnant. Especially since they’re not mated yet.”

“They’ll mate me when I let ‘em,” Jason huffs, grooming Pup Brother some more and then pushing him down into the nest to tuck him in. Pup Brother doesn’t flail, but he stiffens a little, so Jason scents him some more. safe-safe nest-safe-nest

Pup Brother doesn’t relax, exactly, but warily untenses, at least.

“Todd, this is your nest,” he says with a frown. “Why am I in it?”

“I want you in it,” Jason hums, rubbing his wrists along Pup Brother’s throat with more safe-safe-safe. Pup Brother wrinkles his nose, looking bewildered.

Dumb kid. Why else?

“That is the least convincing possible answer you could have provided me,” Pup Brother accuses. Jason rolls his eyes, then leans down to nuzzle his hair and scruffs the back of his neck lightly. Pup Brother stiffens instead of melting, but it’s Pup Brother, so Jason isn’t surprised by that fact and just nuzzles him again before looking towards Quiet Sister instead. The nest’s good enough now, he thinks.

“You too,” he says, jerking his head towards it. Quiet Sister’s eyes widen in surprise, and then her face splits into a warm, delighted smile.

Thank you, she signs before slipping into the living room and approaching the nest. She stops outside it to bow in a formal, unpracticed request. Jason spares a moment to hate her asshole sire, then reaches up and grabs her to pull her down into it. She lets him, which makes him feel a little better about things, and lets him settle her into the curved side of the nest. She beams at him, reaching up to brush sister-scent along his throat from her wrists, and he stops to nuzzle into them. It’s nice, so obviously he does. And it makes it easier for her to scent him, too.

“Holy shit,” Loud Sister mutters under her breath. Jason doesn’t know why.

He nuzzles into Quiet Sister’s wrists one last time, then turns to scoop Pup Brother into his arms and pull him down onto their sides. He cuddles them together, wrapping himself around him and leaving Quiet Sister space to spoon up behind him. Them. Whichever. Pup Brother makes an indignant noise and Jason hushes him with a humming purr and nuzzles safe-pup good-pup good-good-pup into his hair. Pup Brother makes an outraged noise this time, and Little Brother and Loud Sister both laugh. Pup Brother growls at them and reaches for a knife, and Jason hums another purr into his hair. He lets Pup Brother throw the knife at them, since they don’t need knives in the nest. Not while Grandpa and Big Brother are here, anyway. It’s safe, with both of them here.

. . . and Alpha will be home soon too.

Little Brother and Loud Sister dodge Pup Brother’s knife, still laughing. Jason just buries his face in his hair again and squeezes his arms around him tighter with another purr. Pup Brother hisses, but relaxes. Slightly.

Well, doesn’t go for another knife, anyway.

Same difference.

“This is undignified, Todd,” Pup Brother growls. Jason doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so just ignores it to cuddle him some more, petting more good-pup safe-pup scent onto him. What’s “dignified” matter, anyway? They’re in the pack den. They don’t have to worry about things like that here.

Even if Grandpa always does himself. But that’s just Grandpa, anyway.

“I don’t think he cares, Dami,” Big Brother says, sounding amused. “Can everyone else come into the living room too, Little Wing, or do you want your space?”

“Come in,” Jason hums easily. Obviously they should all come in. Why wouldn’t they?

Grandpa gives a soft hitched sigh, and Big Brother lets out a choked little laugh.

“Cool,” he says. “Yeah, that’s–okay. Yeah. Thanks, Jason.”

“Just get ‘em all in here and quit fuckin’ loitering,” Jason snorts, then nuzzles Pup Brother again, who gives an aggrieved sigh but still doesn’t stab anyone. So that’s fine, Jason figures, and scents good-good-pup into his hair again.

“Absolutely undignified,” Pup Brother mutters sullenly as the rest of the pack slips quiet and careful into the room. New Brother and Loud Sister take the couch. Little Brother tries to follow them, like an idiot, and Jason growls.

“Not there,” he snaps irritably, baring his teeth. Stupid Little Brother.

“Uh,” Little Brother says. “You don’t want, uh, me in here?” His scent flickers with restless self-consciousness, and Jason growls again. Idiot.

He sits up just enough to glower his exasperation at Little Brother, then leans over and snakes out an arm to grab his ankle and yank. Little Brother goes down with a yelp, and Jason drags him over to the side of the nest and pulls him in against it. Not inside it, obviously, but against it. He snatches Little Brother’s laptop off him to make sure he stays, then unfolds it and sets it up on the edge of the nest facing out towards Little Brother. He also glowers at him again, just to make the point.

“There,” he says, still annoyed but mostly satisfied. “Sit. Stay.”

“Um,” Little Brother says. “Right . . . here?”

Jason gives him a withering look, then lays back down between Pup Brother and Quiet Sister and curls up around Pup Brother, who huffs over it. Quiet Sister rumbles softly, then presses up against his back. Jason feels . . . settled, maybe. Quiet Sister won’t let anything happen either. They’re safe here.

All of them.

“Am I flattered that he just set up a workstation for me on the edge of his nest or insulted that he wants me on the floor?” Little Brother wonders. Loud Sister laughs and he flips her off, but settles properly into his seat anyway and adjusts the tilt of his screen. Jason growls again on principle, then spares Big Brother a suspicious glance to make sure he sits where he should. Big Brother lets out a shaky laugh of his own, but sits down cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the nest.

Good, Jason thinks in satisfaction.

Grandpa sits in the armchair by the doorway, unfortunately, but it's Grandpa, so Jason allows it. And Big Brother's mate wheels over and parks her chair behind Big Brother. That's fine, Jason decides, then relaxes almost as fully as he can.

As fully as he can without Alpha around, anyway.

Alpha should hurry up and get here. Jason needs to present his pup to him already.

It's . . . different from the last time he was waiting on Alpha, he thinks vaguely. Then he just–doesn't think about that anymore. But it is different.

Alpha's actually coming this time, so it's different.

Jason tightens his grip on Pup Brother and Quiet Sister tightens her grip on him. He can smell the whole pack's scents–smell the whole pack's packscent–and he feels . . . good about that. He likes that.

He missed them. He shouldn't have stayed gone so long. Though now there's a pup, and maybe even more than one, so he supposes it was worth it.

And either way, he's home now.

Grandpa said.

“ETA on B?” Big Brother asks.

“Eighteen minutes, if they avoided the downtown traffic,” Big Brother’s mate says. Jason hums acknowledgment, then lets himself relax just a little more. More than he even thought he could, really.

It's nice.

It's really nice.

And they're all safe, too.

“Holy crap, is he purring?” New Brother mutters under his breath.

“He is definitely purring,” Loud Sister confirms. “Like a big grumpy motorcycle.”

“Pretty sure I've heard quieter motorcycles,” Big Brother's mate says wryly. “It's pretty cute, though.”

“It is so cute, oh my god,” Big Brother says in despairing delight. “This is bad enough, how are we gonna handle him being like this with an actual baby?”

“I think that's mostly a ‘you’ problem, Dick,” Little Brother says.

“That is definitely a ‘you’ problem,” Loud Sister agrees.

“For sure,” New Brother says.

“Very cute,” Quiet Sister hums, nuzzling the back of Jason’s neck and patting his shoulder. “Baby brother.”

“Thank you, Cass,” Big Brother says with a huff, folding his arms. “This is so adorable I can’t even stand it.”

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes, then just settles in and closes them. It’s safe to. And he has a nest to let his scent seep into and through, and “bred” pheromones to let settle into and fill up the den. He’s early enough along that it’ll probably take a little while, so it’s past time to concentrate on putting those off and scenting the room. The nest’s all made, and Pup Brother and Quiet Sister are in it, and Grandpa’s by the door and Big Brother and Little Brother are just outside the nest, and Loud Sister and New Brother and Big Brother’s mate are all here too, so . . .

So once Alpha’s here, then everything will be perfect.

“He’s purring again,” New Brother mutters. “I literally did not even know he was physically capable of making that sound.”

“Capable of making it to motorcycle-shaming levels, apparently,” Loud Sister says with a laugh. “Damn, Jason.”

Jason doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he isn’t worried about it. If it’s important, someone will take care of it.

Everyone’s here, so of course someone will.

“Silence, all of you,” Pup Brother grumbles, sounding long-suffering but staying settled secure in Jason’s arms, which is good. Definitely. He should be there right now.

Jason nuzzles him some more, for obvious reasons, and then just concentrates on letting his pheromones spread through the room. His nest already smells like the pack and so does the den, obviously, but it doesn’t smell like pup-is-coming.

It needs to, obviously.

Someone’s purring. It’s not Pup Brother, but Jason’s not sure who else could be.

Well, it doesn’t matter, really.

Some of the others talk about some things, their voices soft and quiet. Jason doesn’t worry about it. It’s just little stuff, like patrol schedules and classes and appointments. Normal little things for a pack to talk about, and easy to settle into the background as white noise while he lets his pheromones fill up the room and makes sure Pup Brother’s eaten.

He eats some of the apple slices and peanut butter, himself. The pup needs to eat too.

It’s the same cheap, shitty store brand that he used to insist on as a pup himself.

“ETA five minutes,” Big Brother’s mate says eventually, looking at her phone. Jason’s not sure what she’s talking about, but isn’t worried about that either. If it’s important, someone will tell him. Or handle it. Or both.

All he has to do right now is wait for Alpha to get here, and then everything will be fine.

Everything will be perfect, actually, once Alpha gets here.

The others talk a little more. Their voices are still soft and quiet, so Jason still doesn’t worry about it. He just stays curled up around Pup Brother and in Quiet Sister’s arms, letting his pheromones fill up the den with bred and home-safe and all the usual things that are usually part of presenting a pup to the pack.

It’s nice. The . . . being here. It’s nice. He missed it here.

He wonders why he missed it so bad. Has it been that long, or . . . ?

He just missed it, he guesses.

But now he’s here, so he doesn’t have to miss it anymore.

Grandpa turns his head towards the door and pushes himself up out of his chair. Jason whines in distress. Is he leaving? Why’s he leaving?

“I’ll just be a moment, my boy,” Grandpa assures him, and Jason settles, a little. If Grandpa says he’ll be just a moment, then he means it.

Grandpa steps out into the foyer again and everyone else goes quiet all at once, and Jason realizes–oh. The front door just opened, didn’t it. He doesn’t hear footsteps, though.

. . . does that mean . . . ?

“Alfred?” Alpha says from the foyer, sounding just barely concerned, and something in Jason vibrates at the sound of his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Is someone purring?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously.

“Master Jason came home, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says.

“. . . he what?” Alpha says, his voice sounding–strange, just a bit. Jason isn’t sure why it does, but feels . . .

“Just–the living room, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. “You should come and see for yourself.”

Grandpa steps back into view of the doorway, and Jason still feels unsettled and just a little bit uncertain, and isn’t sure if–

Then Alpha steps into view too, Alpha’s mate right behind him, and Jason forgets everything else and purrs.

Alpha’s home. Alpha came this time. Alpha came for him this time.

That’s all he ever wanted him to do.

Alpha stares. He looks around the room just briefly, because it’s Alpha so of course he does–but then he stares.

“Jason?” he says, and Jason purrs louder.

Alpha came.

“He’s, you know–definitely feral-brained right now, obviously,” Little Brother says, gesturing sheepishly. Jason wonders who he’s talking about, idly, but isn’t really worried about it. “Kinda just showed up and let himself in, and then, uh . . . well, he’s, uh, presented to Alfred and Dick so far and was teaching Damian how to nest, so . . .”

“He did?” Alpha’s voice sounds a little–choked, maybe. Jason wonders why.

He’s still over in the doorway, for some reason. Jason wonders why that’s a thing too.

Alpha should know he’s allowed in the room, after all.

“Alpha,” he hums, loosening his grip on Pup Brother just enough to half-reach for Alpha. What’s taking him so long over there, anyway?

It’s dumb.

“Jaylad,” Alpha says tightly, half-taking a step forward and then–stopping, for some reason, just outside the doorway. Gripping one side of it, but not coming through it.

Dumb, Jason thinks, and furrows his brow impatiently.

“Alpha,” he insists, smacking the side of the nest once.

Really, really dumb.

“He accepted clothes with your scent, so . . .” Big Brother trails off.

“And a blanket with it, as well,” Grandpa puts in. “He used it on a foundational layer of the nest.”

“Ah,” Alpha says roughly, tightening his grip on the doorframe.

“Don’t hover, Father, Todd clearly expects your presence,” Pup Brother says in exasperation, which is much more useful. Jason purrs appreciatively and nuzzles him, and Pup Brother sighs in aggravation, but doesn’t try to squirm away or anything.

Good, Jason thinks, and nuzzles him harder.

Pup Brother rolls his eyes and sighs.

Alpha finally steps into the room, which is a start. Jason reaches towards him again with another, deeper purr.

Alpha . . . swallows, visibly, and then comes over to the nest; kneels down outside it beside Big Brother.

Close enough, Jason figures lazily, and catches Alpha’s wrist to drag his hand to his own stomach. He’s not wearing body armor, but it’s fine. It’s Alpha.

It’s . . .

“Present, Dad,” he hums, letting his eyes close again. Alpha makes a very tight noise, and his hand presses in very, very gently against Jason’s stomach.

And the pup, obviously.

“Jaylad,” Alpha says, cracked and hoarse. Jason hums back contentedly, squeezing Alpha’s wrist once.

Good. That’s everybody, then.

Good, yeah.

“Who’s the sire?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She hasn’t come in yet. Jason should probably tell her it’s fine, but he’s a little . . . distracted, maybe. Distracted. Yeah.

Mmm.

“He says either Kori or Roy, so we’re not technically sure, but the suspect list is pretty short,” Big Brother says, and Alpha’s mate laughs.

“Could be both,” she points out teasingly. “Think you could handle double grandkittens, Bruce?”

“More concerned about the risk of having Oliver Queen for an in-law, thanks,” Alpha says dryly, letting out a rough little noise that isn’t quite a laugh and curling his fingers gently against Jason’s stomach. His eyes are kind of shiny, Jason notes when his own half-open again for a moment. It’s . . . weird, a little.

The shiny, he means, though he’s not really sure why.

“Jason might’ve mentioned that they both offered to mate him, so yeah, that is in fact a concern,” Big Brother confirms with a laugh of his own. “But pretty sure Kori and Roy don’t know about the pup yet. Even if he managed to slip ‘em, there’s no way I wouldn’t have heard from either of them by now if they were trying to find him while they knew he was bred.”

Jason huffs, because what does Big Brother mean “managed” to slip them? He could absolutely lose them whenever and wherever he felt like it. And anyway, he texted them earlier. So it’s not like they don’t know where he is.

. . . or didn’t extrapolate where he is, anyway. But whatever, same difference.

“Ah,” Alpha says again, and swallows again too. Jason rolls his head back enough to peer up at him a little closer, not really sure what’s going on with him. Hm.

Well. He’s here. That’s all that really matters, really.

Except . . .

“Alpha?” he says again, not sure if . . . Alpha hasn’t taken his hand off his stomach, but he doesn’t seem–happy, really. Or pleased. Or . . . anything like that. Jason’s not . . . sure, exactly.

Alpha’s hand presses in a little firmer against Jason’s stomach. Not too firm–not too much. But like . . . comfortably firm. If that makes sense, or whatever.

It feels nice, and Jason relaxes a little. Okay. That’s–better, he thinks. Right?

Alpha’s here, so . . . it’s better, yeah.

And it means he’s doing alright. He’s being a good omega. He brought home a good pup to present to the pack–good pups, maybe, if he’s lucky. Alpha will like that, right? If it’s more than one pup?

Any pup would be good, he thinks. Kori and Roy are both good sires. Lian’s great, for one. And Roy and Kori are great too. Just–definitely, yes. They’re gonna be such a good pup.

Even with–him in them, they’ll be a good pup.

He thinks so, anyway. They’ll have . . . better things than he did. They’ll be safer.

Won’t ever end up alone in an alley without a pack or alone on a warehouse floor with no backup coming.

Won’t ever doubt who actually loves them.

Alpha makes a strange, choked noise. Jason doesn’t know why, really. Someone’s purring really loud, but he doesn’t know who it is. Not Pup Brother, and there aren’t any other omegas in the pack, so . . .

Hm. Weird, yeah.

Well, everyone’s here, so he’s not worried about it anyway. He’s being a good omega, and he brought his pup home to present. Grandpa and Big Brother were happy about it, and everybody else is here and settled in and safe. That’s all that matters, really.

As long as Alpha’s happy about the pup too, anyway. And Alpha’s hand is still on his stomach, and Alpha’s still next to the nest, so . . . yeah. That means he is, right?

So it’s good. Yeah.

The purring gets louder. Jason nuzzles Pup Brother’s hair and melts under Alpha’s hand and in Quiet Sister’s arms.

It’s definitely good.

Nice.

“Jason,” Alpha says tightly, and Jason cracks an eye open to look at him again. He doesn’t really remember when he closed them, but it’s not really important or anything.

Alpha has a hand half-over his face, and his head’s ducked down. Jason blinks sleepily, tilting his own head to peer up at him again, but can’t really see his expression. He squeezes the hand he has around Alpha’s wrist; a little bit absent, a little bit like a reflex. He missed Alpha so much.

The purring’s gotten really loud.

“You’re home,” Alpha says.

Jason wonders why Alpha says it like that. Like it’s a surprise or something.

Like he’d ever bring his pup anywhere else.

“Yeah,” he hums anyway, because he is home, and lets himself finally, finally fully relax into the nest. Quiet Sister makes a soft, acknowledging sound and winds her arms tighter around him, and Alpha's hand stays resting on his stomach. Pup Brother grumbles some disparaging things in Arabic, but settles in his arms.

The purring is really loud now, but Jason doesn't mind.

“Selina, please call Harley and Ivy,” Alpha says. “I need a favor tonight.”

“What favor?” Alpha's mate asks curiously, though Jason can already hear the little rustle of her pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Them answering the Batsignal if anyone hits it,” Alpha says. “Kate's out of town ‘til Friday and Gotham can handle them for one night.”

“I really don't think it can, but alright,” Alpha's mate says, sounding amused.

“Can survive them for one night, at least,” Alpha amends. “And if the Justice League needs anything from me in the next ten to twelve hours, well, that's their problem to solve. I’m not going out tonight.”

Jason, idly, wonders why Alpha’s staying in, but it's nice to hear anyway. If Alpha's gonna be home for that long, well . . .

He can sleep a lot better, if Alpha's gonna be here.

That’s good, because the pup needs him to sleep.

So he tunes out the pack’s quiet voices as they all keep talking, and he sleeps.

Jason wakes up to pale early-morning light in a disoriented snap of sudden adrenaline and clocks: soft surface. Sleeping bodies. Someone on either side of him and other presences close by and a room that smells like–

Fuck, did he drunk-dial the Bat pack?

Fuck.

Even Tim’s asleep on the edge of the nest that Jason is inexplicably in. Like, all curled up and hugging his laptop like a teddy bear, but definitely asleep. And Dick’s on the other side of the thing, and that’s Cass pressed up against his back and–is Damian hugging him? In his sleep? Without a visible knife in hand?!

Jason might’ve fallen into an alternate reality again. Fallen very, very far into an alternate reality.

At least hopefully, anyway, because if this is his reality, he’s gonna have to deal with whatever the fuck happened last night, and whoever even built this nest that smells like the whole damn Wayne pack and slopes like–like Catherine’s always used to, like . . . like his mom’s always . . .

Fuck. This is his nest, isn’t it. This is exactly how he builds the damn things every time he fucks up enough to go feral. And he definitely went feral, because he doesn’t remember a thing about last night after accidentally ending up at the manor like an idiot, except–wait, no, shit, now he is remembering things about last night, and they’re all fucking mortifying.

Fuck.

Jason needs to get out of here. He has no idea why anybody humored him taking over the living room like he thought he–like he actually–

He needs to get out of here, because the moment somebody wakes up and tells him he needs to leave or, worse, pities him enough to not tell him he needs to leave, he’s gonna lose his entire damn mind. If he just–

Cass’s fingers flex against his chest, very briefly, and he nearly panics.

Of fucking course he couldn’t wake up in Cass’s arms unnoticed.

“Jason,” she says quietly, and then Jason is officially fucked, because nobody in this room is gonna sleep through someone actually speaking.

Why the hell couldn’t she at least have signed it? Why the hell couldn’t–

And then he registers that Bruce is in the room.

Everyone else wakes up at the sound of Cass’s voice saying his name at the exact same moment that Jason freezes at recognizing Bruce’s scent.

Bruce’s–Bruce’s . . . sire scent. Not on him, but . . . but still here. Still in the room.

Jason hasn’t been this close to Bruce’s sire scent since–

He’s not going to think about that.

He’s definitely not going to think about that. Not ever. Not for anything. Not–

( he’d scrubbed it off so ANGRILY, that last time; so angry and betrayed and–

he’d regretted that, on the warehouse floor. he wouldn’t have been able to smell it through the scent blockers in Robin’s suit anyway, couldn’t have stripped them off while all tied-up and bleeding out, WOULDN’T have stripped them off with any chance of that fucking bastard clown coming back, but–but–

but he’d regretted– )

Jason isn’t thinking about that.

Bruce sits up along the sloped side of his nest, just outside it. Or–almost outside it. Almost.

Bruce has an arm extended half-into Jason’s nest, which was deliberate, obviously. Bruce never does a damn fucking thing that isn’t deliberate. Not ever.

Not a thing, Jason thinks, remembering everything every single awful bastard in Gotham ever survived and the batarang scar on his own neck.

But Jason can’t even hate the asshole for reaching into his nest uninvited like that; can’t even curse him out or shove him out. He can’t, because–because he’s the one with his fingers hooked into the cuff of Bruce’s rolled-up sleeve with the hand of the arm he has draped over Damian. He’s the one holding onto him.

So it’s not Bruce who was deliberate about this. It was Jason’s own stupid, stupid feral-brained stupid self, who thought–who thinks–

Who always thinks–

Bruce isn’t his pack alpha. Bruce isn’t his sire.

Bruce isn’t his fucking dad.

Bruce’s arm is in his nest, laid down the sloped side of it, and he smells the most like home that anyone’s smelled to him since his mom died in a nest built just like this one.

#jason todd #red hood #batfamily #joyfire #wip: jason goes home #omegaverse #a1rc0n

159 notes · View notes

pawsmos · 2 months ago

Text

100th post special!!!

this is art for my “Prince and the Knight” AU ive been working on for some time now.. here’s a meal whace nation!!

lore under cut!

KEHRHHEEB J LOVE THEM SO MUCH DUDE

vvvv

(im not that good with writing nor am i well versed in medieval honorifics and terminology or anything like that so there may be anachronisms)

(this is a separate au from any other medieval aus!! I’ve seen those and love those though)

(the rest of the drdt cast also exists in this au too btw. im considering making charles a butler or a lord or something. none of the cast are the king or queen by the way! that’s aces parents / Eden’s parents. ace also still has all his siblings)

tw for mild homophobia

- Prince Ace, a soon-to-be king, is arranged to marry Princess Eden from a nearby kingdom.

- Both Ace and Eden are upset about the marriage, as Ace is gay (he’s subconsciously aware that he isn’t attracted to women) and Eden is lesbian.

- They both feel resigned to their fate despite their discontent.

- While coping on the back balcony, Ace meets Sir Whit, the newly promoted head of the royal guard. (somehow. who knows how whit got promoted tbh)

- They talk, during which Whit makes joking advances towards Ace.

- Ace, though flustered by Whit’s passes, thinks about the consequences of both liking a man and betraying the kingdom.

(he doesn’t personally care about the latter but he does fear that his father would… idk execute him or something. he is also in denial.)

- Much to Ace’s dismay, they become close friends. However, Whit is aware of the upcoming marriage, so he tries to shut off his own feelings to save himself from feeling bad.

- A few months pass, in which Whit helps Ace overcome his own fears and come to terms with his feelings and sexuality. They start slow (like doing horseback riding together haha), but end up routinely sneaking out together.

- On one particular night, on the same balcony they met, just a day before the wedding, something happens. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Ace kisses Whit and REALLY likes it.

- He realizes that he wants this man. But, realizing that he might get caught, Ace runs away.

- Before the wedding, Ace and Eden finally meet. While preparing for the ceremony, they bond over their shared reluctance of their marriage.

- Eden confesses that she’s actually a lesbian, and there’s a lady back at her kingdom that she’s deeply in love with. (it’s arei LMFAO)

- Ace bluntly replies that he’s gay too.

- insert uhh lightbulb ding effect

- They conjure a plan to get married for convenience, and to appease their parents, but mostly so that they can pursue their own partners. They worry about the kiss though and the people who might be watching. Especially Whit and Arei.

- Skip to the wedding day, Whit suppresses his feelings (like usual) and claps while he watches someone he loves dearly get married off to another. Whit excuses himself from the wedding.

- For post-ceremonial reasons, Ace can’t apologize or even talk to Whit for another week.

i haven’t really thought about the rest but i assume that, once Ace is allowed to go out, he will be the one confessing his love to whit. whit gets “caught”, miscommunication,,,, idek they just… ARE IN LOVE. HAHA.. if you want to write any fics about this or make any art feel free! use the tag “#whace prince and knight au”

thank you!!

THANK YOU FOR READING MY CLICHE YAOI FANFIC ILY IF YOU GET THIS FAR.

THANK YOU FOR 75 FOLLOWERS TOO!!!!

id also like to say that i might start opening commissions because i need a form of making money. but umm i don’t know how to start a paypal or venmo or anything like that. LOL. digital gift cards could work i guess, uhhhh idk. dm me for info!

192 notes · View notes

voidzphere · 10 months ago

Text

☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!

[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killersanz (sideblog) @dailykillerr (daily killer sans that i have not posted on yet erm) ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

╭───────────── * ˚ ✦

hii !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i love u too brutiee @mewobrute <33 (more stuff under the cut!!)

╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆

✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<

FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓

my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)

my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)

i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]

I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!

I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNER <333

some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !

i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3

some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !

some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !

✩ my tagz !

#killz art - my art !! :3

#killz rb - reblogz

#killz yapz - my yap sessionz

#killz answerz - answerz to my askz

#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz

#tag/ask game - self-explanatory

#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !

#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3

#killz srb - self reblogz

#killz sans - my sonaaa ^_^

✩ dni

basic dni criteria

istz + phobez

epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.

pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)

irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)

minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework

slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu

mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)

unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2

anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)

HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)

✩ byi + boundariez

i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.

i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.

im not a roleplay account btw /srs

my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3

DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you

if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!

my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !

i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).

just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.

im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.

i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3

i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.

i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)

i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.

my blog, my rulez <3

★ last updated: 12/5/24

#killz yapz #every drawing in this was drawn by my finger #my finger is now numb #i'll update this anytime i can :]#killer sans #something new #utmv #sans au #undertale au #masterpost #artist intro #killz art #killz fingie doodlez #killz sans

467 notes · View notes

yumeaoka-chan · 4 months ago

Text

For Science!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Spider-Punk x Vampire! Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Cursing, blood drinking, blood, lovesick hobie, lovesick reader, cuddling, implied kink(just one mention of it really, it's not even fully there tbh), no physical description of reader, reader is AFAB, (In the Pursuit of Blood reverse au kinda, if you really think about it)

Summary: Your boyfriend has always been curious about your vampiric powers. But there's one question he's been refraining himself from asking.

A/N: Credits for the lovely banners go to @the-shroom-garden !!! Second piece for week 4 of Octobie @the-kr8tor , let's go!!! I'll probably have my third final piece done later this week, idk. I've been on a roll, so there might be a fourth if i can write fast enough💪

“You fuckin’ with me, lovie?”

“No, Hobes. I really can turn into a bat. As well as a swarm of them, but that's besides the point.” You can't help the smile that flits across your face as he gestures to you with open arms and grabby hands. A clear indication that he's waiting for you to do just that, turn into a bat. Hobie knows the sparkle in his eyes is giving away just how excited he is to see you turn and he won't lie about how much he's dying to hold you when you do.

Shaking your head, you let out a playful sigh and place a hand on your forehead, as if you're winded. Turning around, you fall back into your boyfriend's awaiting arms, only for a small cloud of black shimmering mist to appear with a poof when he moves to wrap his arms around you. Hobie's eyes widen in shock as the mist subsides, an excited, lopsided grin on his lips as he peers down at you in his hands. A fuzzy bat about the size of his forearm with fur the same color of your hair. He has to reign in the urge to squish your little cheeks when you peer up at him with big red eyes, so cute and utterly adorable. Not at all good for his heart, he supposes. And when your little bat tongue comes out as you yawn, he goes “Fuck it” and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and index finger.

“Look at you… Too cute, darlin’. I'm gonna have a heart attack, swear”, Hobie coos softly as his other hand comes up to pet at your large ears, dopey smile lighting up his features.

You let out an irritated squeak of protest from the smothering of your cheeks and shake your head free from his fingers. With a small chirp, you open your tiny mouth towards his thumb, tiny fangs making his smile falter as he thinks you're going to bite him for a second. Only for your tiny tongue to gently lick the pad of his thumb, tiny bat body wrapping around his wrist. That was the day Hobie thinks his ‘wanting you to bite and drink from him’ obsession started. He was curious, as one naturally is when their girlfriend is a damn vampire. Days and weeks passed after that and he never uttered a word to you about the subject, not exactly knowing how you'd take being asked to feed from him.

You'd always made sure you were fed before being around him so, he never tried to ask. Although the nagging question and want to know how it felt ate at him day and night. Was it a need? No. Was it want? Perhaps. Was it somehow tied to his…longing of you? Hobie wasn't fully prepared to unpack that yet. Besides, what if the reason you never tried to feed from him was because you cared about him deeply and wished no hurt to come to him? That feeding was a necessity for your survival and you didn't want him to feel like you kept him around for just that? He groans as he thinks about those being the possible reasons, scrubbing a hand over his face with exasperation. It was late in the night with you having gone to feed, leaving Hobie alone in the houseboat with his ever pressing thoughts.

He flopped back on his bed and glared up at the ceiling, trying to will away the questions that flitted around his head a mile a minute. He was genuinely intrigued though. Hobie truly wanted nothing more than to find out just how it felt to be bitten by a vampire, about whether it would hurt or pinch just a bit.

“It's not even like that. She loves me. Plus this is just for…research…”, he mumbles to himself as he flings an arm over his eyes. Would you get mad at him and be offended if he asked you, however? You've always indulged in his curiosity when it came to your abilities but, something like this just had to be… personal. Teeth worrying at his bottom lip and tongue fiddling with his lip piercing, Hobie lays there for a few more moments before sighing and sitting up. He wouldn't ask you. At least, not yet. Too caught up in the long list of cons rather than the short list of pros. Just as he reaches for his guitar, a sudden bang against his window rocks the boat. He holds out both arms to steady himself as the houseboat slowly stops rocking, eyes darting towards the window and ears perked for anything that might spell danger.

His senses don't go haywire, which helps ease the anxiousness beneath his skin. Standing up, Hobie opens the window to peer out of it, only for the fuzzy blur that is you to come hitting him in the face, making him yelp in shock. Your fuzzy body drapes over his head before you slowly slide down into his palms that had quickly come up to catch you. Little chirps leave you, sounding weak and tired. Hobie shakes his head before peering down at you with growing concern as he walks back over to the bed and sits down with you in his arms. With a poof of shimmering black mist, you're back in your human form, albeit bruised and bleeding from multiple cuts. Your body sags weakly against his as you look up at your boyfriend with a shaky smile.

“Evening, Hobie.”

“Oh my days, what the absolute fuck happened to you?” Is what he furiously whispers as his hands tenderly cup your cheeks. You nuzzle into the warmth of his touch as he gently wipes the blood dripping from your forehead, eyes shining with concern and heart aching at your battered form. You can smell the scent of his blood beneath his skin, how it rushes through his veins. With a sigh, you bat tired lashes up at him and softly shrug.

“Not all vampires are as lovely as me. That is to say, I got into a fight with some old shithead and won. ‘M hungry though, didn't get to feed…” You mumble as you bury your face against his chest. Hobie scoffs and shakes his head. Of course you'd find a way to make some joke out of the situation. He's rubbed off on you a bit more than he'd liked to. Pursing his lips and watching as you inhaled the scent of him deeply, that nagging question springs into his mind again. After all, you were battered, tired, and hungry. It couldn't hurt to ask now…

“Hey, um, love? Considering that you need blood to heal and everything… W-What if you were to feed on me…?”

“Oh, finally. I was wondering when you were going to ask this question.” That makes his eyebrows raise in shock, mouth dropping open and eyes blinking repeatedly. You give him a knowing smirk and press a sweet kiss to his chin then his lips.

“Trust me, it's a very common question, baby. You wouldn't be the first to ask it. I am curious what your reason behind it is, though.” Hobie lets out a nervous chuckle, a dopey grin on his face as he avoids your gaze. He shrugs and scratches the back of his head, embarrassment coloring his voice and making it crack a bit.

“U-Uh, well… You know, it's for, um, science! Yeah… Science, lovie.” Not entirely a lie, he was much too flustered to come up with any other excuse. A giggle leaves your lips and Hobie's eyes soften as he gazes at you with fondness. Always so weak whenever you laugh for him, the sound like an arrow straight to his heart. He leans down to kiss you tenderly, hands cupping your face once more and thumb caressing your cheek lovingly. When he pulls back, his heart just about aches at the adoration in your pretty eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. His thumb tenderly grazes along your bottom lip, gently poking at your fang that sticks out.

“Go ahead then, darlin’. Take what you need, mm?” Slowly nodding your head, you lean up to press your lips against his neck, softly gripping the hair at the back of his nape to gently tilt his head to the side. Your other hand rests on his shoulder. One of his hands is splayed across your back while the other rests on the back of your head.

“I'll be gentle, promise”, you mumble quietly against his skin as your fangs gently graze his flesh. He shivers slightly at the sensation and nods his head, heart pounding in his ears as you pepper his neck in kisses. It's then that he feels your fangs sinking into his flesh, like a shard of ice in his veins. The pain is sharp and quick to come, but goes away just as quickly. He can feel the sensation of his blood being sipped out of his body, a sensation that isn't too unpleasant. Warmth pools beneath his skin and he holds you closer against his body as you drink from him. His mind clears and his body feels lighter, like all of his troubles have been swept away by your touch. Giddiness makes a goofy smile appear on his lips as he presses his neck closer to your lips. You hold onto Hobie gently, tilting his head just a bit more as you lap at the delectable nectar that is his blood. There's something different about it, not like a normal human’s life force. You think that it's probably because your boyfriend is no normal human, after all. There's something energizing about it, something that pumps you up and you feel every wound stitching itself close the longer you drink.

Hobie's little hum and hands growing slightly lax in his grip on you makes you back away, tongue lapping over the bite mark to stop the bleeding. Pressing one final kiss to his neck as thanks, you gaze up at his face with slight concern. Hobie's eyes are half-lidded and glazed with contentment, hands wrapping around you and gently pulling you towards his neck again.

“Finish drinkin’, lovie”, he slurs just a bit, voice deep and soft like he'd been drinking. “Want you to get all better.” His words make you smile and you gently lay him down on the bed. You shush his protests with a soft kiss to his lips before tapping his cheek so that he looks up at you.

“I got just what I needed. Thank you, Hobie.” You coo softly as you drape the blankets over his form. Hobie gives you a lopsided smile, his eyes swimming with such a lovestruck shine to them that you can't help but pepper his face in more kisses. He hums softly as you adorn him with your love, grin widening with every kiss.

“Anythin’ for you, sweetheart”, he mumbles as you turn off the lights and press another kiss on his forehead. Sleep is quickly trying to claim him and he's not one to fight it. “Anythin’ for you.”

#octobie #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #octobie'24 #hobie x reader #fanfic #octobie halloween #vampire reader #spider punk #kind of a in the pursuit of blood reverse au if you think about it

165 notes · View notes

chuuyaa-nakaharaa · 8 months ago

Note

It's true! I never get tired looking at you. I could look at you for ages and you'd still be beautiful.

*rolling on the floor, groaning.*

— @dazaii-osamuu

Not again.. Get up you idiot!

#ooc: (thats totally fine yknow? it cant always be “this” or “that” but just knowing that youve tried and thats still better than not)#(and i rlly admire that)#//#(ah alr. hopefully youll feel a bit better after the session tho <3)#// (that doesnt sound like a bad thing to wish for /pos)#(and id say safer? but at the same time they might pick up on it someday so again. goodluck to you.)#(lololol if yw ill hope w you too)#(jeez thats thw worse to go through </3 but itll be okay once its all over if that makes sense)#<- prev tags #(oh. thanks)#// (waiting a month for it sucks tbh. but oh well at least I'm getting therapy)#// (yeah. I just hope they don't get mad at that too)#(idk if they'll pick it up. but maybe they will. unless we just get out of the friendship normally. just parting ways)#(we'll hope together fr)#(yeah. don't want them to say stuff and then suddenly have like no friends. they do like causing things so uh. mm)

224 notes · View notes

lewisvinga · 1 year ago

Text

because i liked a boy , part ii. | carlos sainz x fem! reader

part one.

summary: carlos sees how y/n is thriving after their break up and he couldn’t help but feel regret, especially after seeing how she moved on.

fc; nicki nicole

warnings; cursing , reader is implied to be a spanish speaker, uhhh idk what else

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs

note; requested ! this is set over a span of a couple of months btw ! this is a long one for me icl

masterlist !

liked by lilymhe, carlossainz55, and others

yourusername: por las noches [at night] remix out now!

thank you pesopluma for giving me the chance to feature on this track, had so much fun collabing with you!

tagged; pesopluma

username: OMG MOTHER

username: this song is so….💔💔

username: her voice + peso’s voice 😫

username: yall think it’s abt carlos???

pesopluma: fue tan divertido trabajar contigo, hasta la próxima! 🖤😁 [it was so fun working with you, until next time!]

yourusername: gracias por darme la oportunidad 🥹🖤 [thank you for giving me the opportunity]

username: omg wasn’t she rumored to date him before carlos??

username: they just shared a mutual friend 😭

username: ‘solita me dejarás’ [you’ll leave me alone] was 100% aimed at carlos for not defending her 🙁

username: the emotions in her voice, i just know that break up hurt her

lilymhe: idk what you’re saying but your pretty voice makes up for it 😫🫶

yourusername: love uuuuuu

username: when she said ‘todo lo que yo te di y todo lo que me diste, fue pa' nada’ [everything i gave to you and everything you gave to me, was for nothing] i felt that shit in MY SOUL😖😖

username: omg omg omg carlos liked!!!

username: my roman empire is cary/n

username: carlos still liking her posts and following her 🥹🥹

username: “voy a preguntar por qué todos nuestros sentimientos se quedaron en ayer” [i’m going to ask why all of our feelings stayed in yesterday] has me in my FEELS, miss y/n you ate w that🤒

alexandrasaintmleux: amazing! always so talented 🩷💐

yourusername: thank u alex 🥹🫶

username: my ferrari wags💔💔

username: this song seems like the last goodbye to carlos tbh, like she’s letting alllll of her feelings out before moving on bc in her recents she looks so happy🥹🥹🥹🥹 liked by yourusername !

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others!

yourusername: “ALMA”, my first album, is finally out! and if that wasn’t enough, official dates for ALMA tour is also out! presale link in my bio. 🖤🖤🖤

username: HELLOOOO?????

username: IM SLDKSKDO

username: trust I WILL BE GOING TO MADRID TO SEE HER

carmenmmundt: i better get front row seats in madrid!!

yourusername: i’ll get them for you #trust

username: anybody notice how the opening show is in madrid ??? coincidentally before the start of the season??

username: i noticed too omg, i’m convinced the tour was planned before her and carlos broke up so he could see her🥹

username: carlos liked this post too!

lilymhe: OH EM GEEEEE IM SO EXCITEDDDDDD liked by yourusername!

username: working extra shifts rn

carlossainz55: felicitaciones! [congratulations] knew you could do it! liked by yourusername!

username: cary/n💔💔😭😭

username: IM SO HYPED FOR THIS

username: so you’re telling me we might hear ‘because i liked a boy’ and ‘por las noches’ LIVE???!!

yourusername: maybeeeeeee

alexandrasaintmleux: already ready for when they officially go on sale! making charles also use his phone and laptop😌😌

yourusername: alexxxxx🥹🥹🫶🫶

carlos congratulations on the album and the tour, i know how hard you’ve been working on both.

y/n thank you, carlos. yeah, i have been working hard despite certain bumps in the road 😊

carlos listen, i’m so sorry. i should’ve defended you more. it was my mistake and i was blind and stupid and i lost you. i lost an amazing girl.

y/n yeah! you were stupid

y/n i was getting death threats and i was told that it was ‘complicated’ to make a post!

y/n but it’s fine, i’m over it.

carlos well i’m not over you.

y/n deal with it, carlos sainz. you messed up. you lost me.

carlos just give me one more chance, por favor, mi amor. [please, my love] te lo juro, [i swear to you] i won’t fuck it up. please.

y/n no. i have a tour to prepare for. goodbye, carlos.

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt, and others

yourusername: MADRIDDDDD❤️🇪🇸 thank you for creating happier memories for me in this beautiful city. you’re all so special to me🖤🖤

username: ‘happier memories’ rmbr when she’d always be seen in madrid w carlos 🥹

username: OOMF ON TWT SAID SHE SAW CARLOS THERE W CARMEN AND GEORGE AND A MYSTERY GIRL

carmenmmundt: i think i lost my voice from screaming so much🤣 george is even worse!! but amazing like always 💞💞

georgerussell63: broken spanish and don’t have a clue what you said, but i somehow lost my voice

yourusername: it means sm to me that you both enjoyed 🥹🖤

username: MOTHER HAS MOTHERED

username: buenos días y k vivan los mujeres😍 [good morning and long live women]

username: el mejor concierto de mi vida😫😫 [the best concert of my life]

username: streets are saying carlos was there w another girl????

username: the way you guys stopped hating on her the moment she ended things w carlos, you guys are sick!!

username: literally, she was always that girl but since she was dating their fave……

username: idc i never liked her

landonorris: womp womp!

landonorris: waiting for u to come to england

yourusername: soooooon😁

alexandrasaintmleux: so excited for the monaco concert 🩷🩷

yourusername: can’t wait to see you and charles!🫶

liked by carlossainz55, pesopluma, and others

yourusername: special guest in cdmx [mexico city] tonight 🙈 tqm [ilysm] 🖤🖤

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: MI REINAAAAAA😍😍😍 [my queen]

pesopluma: la vida es mejor contigoooooo, tqm❤️❤️ [life is better with you, ilysm]

yourusername: 🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🖤🖤🖤

username: the way he looks at her, i am unwell

username: she looks so happy w him🙁🙁

username: friends to lovers is REALLL

username: mis faves

username: cdmx concert was the best one

username: POR LAS NOCHES LIVE>>

lilymhe: cuties🫶 2x date next time ur in town??

yourusername: of course 😖

username: not carlos liking 😭

username: wonder how carlos feels realizing he fumbled a bad bitch like y/n for not defending her online

username: the way peso pluma said ‘i’d defend her with my life, that’s how much i love her’ during his lil speech during the concert was so🥹🥹

username: i’m so happy that she looks so happy and relieved, AND THE COMMENT SECTION HAS NO TOXIC FANS!!

username: 😖😖😖😖😖😫😫😫💞

carlos so you’re dating your ‘friend’ now huh

y/n weird i don’t remember asking.🤣

y/n he was there for me when i was getting death threats and being called a slut for nothing. he was there to comfort me when i cried over the thousands of hate comments under every post.

y/n something you never did.

carlos wait until he finds another girl and will dump you. you know how it is when people get that famous that fast. he won’t treat you well.

y/n HA what a joke. very funny, sainz.

y/n weren’t you the one to bring a girl to MY concert?? but i’m the bad guy for moving on and dating someone else???

y/n you’re pathetic, sainz.

carlos admit it, you know i’m right

y/n fuck off, he treats me better than you ever did

carlos sure. sure he does.

y/n move on, sainz. move on.

liked by lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, and others!

yourusername: princess treatment only 💞🥹 muchas gracias, mi rey🖤 [thank you very much, my king]

tagged; pesopluma

pesopluma: lo mejor para usted, mi reina❤️ [the best for you, my queen]

yourusername: mi amor 🥹🫶

username: literal goals

username: mis padres

username: a relationship like them pls

username: the way she went from carlos to peso pluma>>>>

username: SHE SAID PRINCESS TREATMENT ONLY ‼️‼️ WE ONLY WANT MEN WHO DEFEND US‼️‼️ liked by yourusername !

username: she looks sooooo happy n free i love it

username: as much as i miss cary/n, peso pluma really does treat her like a queen

lilymhe: ITS WHAT YOU DESERVE BBY!!!!! liked by yourusername !

username: oh i just know lily knows the real shit abt carlos and y/n

lilymhe: i am neither confirming not denying…

landonorris: cool but can u tell him to get on his pc and join the game🙄🙄🙄🙄

pesopluma: on it 🫡

charles_leclerc: WAIT FOR ME

username: wait omg he’s friends w the drivers????

username: duh, she’s besties w the wags , ofc he’s gonna know their bfs

alexandrasaintmleux: gorgeous gorgeous girls date wonderful amazing guys who make them happy💐🩷🩷

yourusername: well that also makes you a gorgeous gorgeous girl! ilysm🫶🖤🥹

username: wonder how carlos feels knowing he lost y/n to a guy who treats her better AND is friends w his friends 😭😭

username: if i was him i’d be sooo pissed 😭

username: imagine if he was begging for her to take him back

yourusername: lol imagine

#formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 scenario #formula one scenarios #f1 imagine #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 scenarios #formula one social media au #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

1K notes · View notes

quin-ns · 2 years ago

Text

Fake Blood (Ethan Landry x Reader)

Word count: 5.6K

Summary: spoiler: the blood isn’t fake. alone in your apartment after your friends had been attacked, you ask ethan to stop by. he does in an unexpected way and you get more than you bargained for

Tags: (18+), friends to lovers, minor violence, knife tw, flirting, making out, virgin!ethan, virgin!reader, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, the ghostface robe stays on during sex, denial ab ethan being a murderer :) (if bad why hot?)

A/N: just watched scream 6 for the first time only a few days ago and couldn’t get this psycho out of my brain (tiktok edits didn’t help lol). timeline might be a little wonky but tbh it’s not relevant. also this follows the theory that ethan did the big apartment attack. I really wasn’t expecting this to be this long but it’s worth it yall I promise

Misc masterlist + main masterlist

As much as you liked Mindy, if you knew becoming friends with her would lead to you being integrated into her friend group of past and present serial killer victims, you might’ve thought about asking someone else to partner up with you for a presentation in your film studies class.

When you’d asked her, it was mostly to avoid having to accept an offer from a guy named Jason, who had always stared at you during that class and brought up the ‘Stab’ movies whenever he could (this was before you knew your friends knew him, but you still got a weird vibe from the guy).

She’d been excited to hang out with you after you two gave your presentation, and that’s how you wound up spending most days with her and her tight knit group of friends.

You were probably closest with Mindy, but you liked her brother too. For a guy named Chad, he was actually pretty chill. You got along with Tara as well, who was in a bit of a rebellious phase after being attacked and nearly killed, which you only learned about once they trusted you enough. Her older sister Sam was mostly cool too, but a bit overprotective. There was a gloomy aspect to her, but you supposed it made sense given that she was betrayed by her murderous boyfriend and now the internet peddled theories that blamed her for a series of killings in their home town of Woodsboro.

They had a tight bond, and even though you grew close with each of them, you knew you’d be an outsider. Like Tara and Sam’s roommate Quinn, Mindy’s girlfriend Anika, and Chad’s roommate Ethan. You all had shared multiple conversations about their trust issues. It must’ve been hard to even start to trust people after all that.

Out of all of the other “newcomers” as Mindy once put it, you got along with Ethan the best. He was a little quiet and sorta dorky (which your friends would tease him about a little—all friendly, of course) but he was fun to talk to. You guys liked a lot of the same stuff, including horror movies, and it didn’t hurt that he was cute.

In your opinion, with his curly dark hair and eyes to compliment, the whole “shy guy” thing was part of the appeal.

You wondered if he’d ever make a move, or if he even knew you were curious about him in that way. You wouldn’t go so far to say it was a crush for your ego’s sake, but you wouldn’t send him running off with his tail between his legs like you did with most guys.

Like that guy Jason from film class, who, just before Halloween, was killed alongside his roommate by a masked killer.

“Didn’t he have a thing for you?” Mindy asked you as you were all gathered around the TV, finding out the news together.

You were sitting crammed in a chair next to Ethan since the others had all taken up the couch space. He didn’t seem to mind, but it did unfortunately make it easy for them all to look your way and stare. You didn’t like the attention.

You were in shock at the news, especially when the anchor revealed Jason had also killed your film professor. Ethan pointed that out, saying if the guy was crazy enough to do that he might’ve even gone after you.

“Maybe the killer who killed him did you a favor,” Quinn suggested in response to Ethan.

The thought terrified you. You looked around the group. “Do you guys think he really would’ve hurt me? He seemed weird, not psycho.”

“We talked not that long ago, nothing seemed off,” Tara revealed with a grim look. “He asked if you and Sam were gonna come to the party.”

You hadn’t planned on going—what the hell would’ve happened if you had?

You exchanged a look with Sam, who seemed to have the wheels in her head turning.

You zoned back into the news as the reporter explained the mask found was a ghostface mask—like from the Stab movies. And of course, the actual Woodsboro killings.

“Pack a bag,” Sam told her sister, springing up to move around the apartment building.

Sam and Tara argued, which was a little weird to witness. You tried to sink back into the chair, while Ethan looked at you like he wanted to say something.

Hopefully it wasn’t “get out of the chair” because you didn’t think you could move.

The night ended with you going back to your little apartment alone. Your roommate was out of town and so your anxiety was on high alert.

A lot had happened that night apparently, including Sam and Tara getting attacked in a convenience store and them being questioned by the cops.

As much as you cared about them, you feared what would happen if you were with them.

That’s why the next night when you were invited over, you had been hesitant. A government paper was the perfect excuse, but you had FaceTimed with them so you all could keep an eye on each other.

You sat at your little desk, your laptop opened to work on your paper, and your phone propped up on your cup so you could talk to them hands free.

Apparently everyone was together at the apartment except Ethan, who told you he was studying in the library when you texted to ask him. You responded that you were working on a paper and that if he wanted to come over to keep you company, he could.

You’d spent some time alone with him, but not a lot when you really thought about it. It was always in the group—who were all murder suspects, according to Mindy’s movie rules.

You knew you weren’t the killer, and you had absolutely no motive. The others were still suspicious of you so that hurt a little (maybe that was another reason why you were keeping to yourself), but you did your best to understand that they weren’t just suspicious of you.

Everyone was a suspect, and no one was safe.

You felt even less safe when Mindy said she’d call you back. You didn’t know why she had to hang up so urgently, but you had a feeling it had to do with the emotional conversation Tara and Sam had been having in the background. You couldn’t make out most of it clear so you avoided mentioning it.

You sighed and checked your chat with Ethan. He hasn’t responded to your text. You were getting nervous now that you weren’t video chatting with your other friends anymore and the thought of being home alone didn’t bring you much ease.

You thought about just going over to the Carpenter’s (and Quinn’s) apartment, not wanting to bother Ethan further. Maybe he was ignoring you on purpose.

However, it was a far walk there. You didn’t feel safe making it alone at night—especially with a killer on the loose, likely targeting your friends. If you had a car, maybe, but you were a broke college student who could barely afford a place to live.

You sucked it up and double texted Ethan, this time asking if he could come over and that you were worried.

When he didn’t respond right away, you gave it a few minutes.

A little while longer passed and since you now couldn’t focus on your paper, you tried to call Mindy back. Then Tara. Then Chad. Then Sam. Then Quinn. Then Anika.

Not a single one of them answered.

You took a deep breath. Then, you went to double check that your door was locked.

You tried to call Ethan, but his phone went immediately to voicemail. It must’ve been dead or powered off.

That left no one else to call, and you felt more alone than ever.

You sat down at your desk and tried to focus.

You ended up going to your bedroom, putting on sleep clothes, and watching a comfort show under all your blankets instead, paper completely forgotten.

Your phone dinged from your bedside table and when you looked at it, you saw a message from Ethan. Only a few hours late, but he said he was on his way up.

That was sudden. You tried to not overthink being alone with Ethan too much.

A few moments later, there was a knock at your front door.

You climbed out of bed, not really caring that you were wearing sleep shorts and a baggy shirt. Your friends had seen you go to class in about the same when you had all night study sessions.

When you got to the door, you got a little nervous. But you knew it had to be Ethan, so you tried to push the anxiety aside and unlocked then opened the door.

You were met with shock and horror.

Towering over you in your doorway stood a figure in a black robe… and a ghostface mask.

You tried to slam the door, but the person caught it. You choked on a scream when they shoved their way in, holding a knife. There was a small stain of red on the metal blade and a darker, bigger mass on the robe.

Blood. Blood was red.

You scrambled back and tried to think of where to go. None of the doors in your apartment locked, not even the bathroom door.

Your heart and mind raced and suddenly you were spewing words.

“I don’t know what to say to make you not kill me, but I please don’t,” you rushed out.

The person—the killer—moved closer to you after shutting and locking your front door.

You ran, but there was really nowhere to go. The killer ran too. You tried to lure them to the bathroom and shove them in, but they dodged and had you almost within their grasp.

They didn’t slash the knife, though.

You ran for the front door, but the killer grabbed you by the arm. You were shoved back against your hallway wall and pinned. Your back slammed against the wall, but not hard. They held the knife to your throat—not too close, but it was still there and still kept you frozen.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

The words came out before you could stop them. You internally scolded yourself. That’s the kinda shit the girls who got murdered asked.

There was a laugh, and then a familiar voice.

“I’d never do that.”

By the time the killer reached for the mask and pulled it off, you still hadn’t processed your shock.

“Ethan?” you gawked up at him while he gave you a cheeky smile. He let the mask drop and the hand holding the knife fell to his side.

“You should’ve seen your face,” he said through a smile, excited eyes scanning your face for realization.

“Is this… is this a fucking prank?” you questioned, finally comprehending. “Ethan, what the fuck!?” You shoved him back by his shoulder, admittedly a little pissed. “You’re covered in blood!”

He stayed standing in front of you.

“It’s fake, I promise. It was just a joke,” he reasoned, looking a little guilty. “Y’know, cause Halloween and… alright, maybe my timing isn’t great.”

You scoffed out a laugh at that. “It’s terrible timing. There really is someone after us.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Ethan apologized with a small, apologetic smile. You stared at him, still surprised. He looked so innocent for someone that could pull off, let alone come up with, such a messed up prank.

“Is this where you’ve been? Dressing up to mess with me while there really is a killer after us?” You questioned, raising your brows and crossing your arms.

“Y’know, if there really is a killer after us, we probably shouldn’t let each other die virgins,” Ethan stated in a flirtatious way he easily could’ve played off as a joke. Maybe it was entirely a joke, but you played along in a different direction.

You scoffed. “And you’re just assuming I’m a virgin?”

He shrugged, the long fabric of his costume rustling. “I see how you are with guys. They want you, you never want them.”

“So what, I’m a tease?” you guessed, used to hearing that but a little disappointed to think it would come from him.

“No,” he clarified quickly. “But they’re just never good enough for you and you know that. Like that jerk Jason.”

You cringed a little at the mention of him, and then felt bad about that. The guy had been murdered, after all.

“Don’t say that, he’s dead.”

“So what?” Ethan asked plainly, surprising you a little. “He was a killer too. He could’ve gone after you, you should be grateful to whoever did it.”

You furrowed your brows. He was starting to sound like someone else. “Grateful?”

“It’s okay, you’re allowed to be.” Ethan’s expression as he spoke was one of reassurance. “You could’ve been next, you never know. He was one of those guys who couldn’t take a hint that he was beneath you.”

You had no idea he thought that way about you—that there were men he deemed unworthy. It was enough to distract you from the shift in his demeanor.

“And what? You’re saying you’re one of the guys who’s good enough for me?” you couldn’t help but wonder. You never thought about your dating history (or lack of) like that.

“Hell no,” he said, surprising you yet again. You were expecting a ‘yes’ with the way he was coming onto you all of the sudden, but what he said carried even more of a self-depreciating brand of charm. “But I’m hoping maybe you’ll pity the loser who’s had a hopeless crush on you for a while now and give him a chance.”

“You’re not a loser,” you said before you registered the rest of his words. When you did, you were taken aback at the confession. “But you’re not usually this… bold, Ethan.”

You wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but there was a lot wrong these past few hours.

“What can I say? I’ve been feeling more confident recently.”

You hummed, understanding that in a way.

“Maybe it’s the whole ‘we could die any second’ thing,” you ventured a guess.

He smiled to himself, like you’d just referenced an inside joke you weren’t a part of.

“Could be,” he agreed. He laughed a little and looked down at himself, then met your eyes again. “Sorry about scaring you. It was in poor taste. We both like horror movies… I don’t know, it was stupid.”

You scoffed, but you weren’t really mad anymore.

“I like horror movies, I don’t want to be in one,” you told him, eyeing the knife he held loosely in his right hand. “Is the knife real?”

“What?” Ethan asked, feigning confusion. He lifted the knife and examined it. “This knife?”

“Yeah, that knife,” you parroted back his playful tone. “You said the blood is fake, but is the knife real?”

A devious look crossed Ethan’s face. He held it to your throat slowly, holding it horizontally. You didn’t flinch, much to his pleasure. He seemed almost impressed.

“Gotta be authentic, right?” he mused, eyes flicking to your parted lips as you breathed steadily. “Can I kiss you?”

When his curious eyes looked back at yours, you couldn’t help but notice he still held the knife. The rush of excitement you felt scared you more than the fear of him letting it slip forward.

“What’s the knife for?” you asked with a surge of confidence, taunting him a little. “If I say no?”

Ethan laughed at that. He pulled it back and let it drop to the floor. It clattered against the wood, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. But it wasn’t from fear—it was from anticipation. Maybe your curiosity was a little more than that after all.

“You’re safe with me,” he assured. “Promise.”

His words felt layered, but in a way you couldn’t define.

Perhaps it was his way of saying he’d protect you. Maybe it was strange, especially given his entrance, but you found yourself feeling exactly that with Ethan. Safe.

Nothing was going to hurt you, certainly not him.

“About that kiss…” you started, giving him the indication that he was looking for.

Ethan took the hint and ran with it, lips crashing into yours in the blink of an eye.

His lips were soft, but the kiss was needy and hungry. You tried to move your lips in sync with his, but he was much more dominant.

A joke that you’d never say flashed by about him practicing.

It was easy not to laugh when Ethan’s hand threaded into your hair and his tongue began to explore your mouth.

The leather glove felt strange. It made you pull back a little, which you almost couldn’t do with the way Ethan eagerly chased your swollen lips with his own.

You glanced over his costume again. It looked really legit—when did he have time to get it? Was he actually gonna wear this for Halloween? You swore you remembered him and Chad talking about some other costume he made out of cardboard for the frat party.

Before you could spiral down that path, Ethan pulled the leather gloves off quickly and cast them aside. It was like he could read your mind. Both hands went to your face, pulling you to meet him halfway in another searing kiss.

You didn’t know what was coming over you, but whatever it was was causing arousal to stir in your belly.

You figured out the answer to that pretty quickly.

It was want. You wanted Ethan.

“Is the other offer still on the table?” you uttered softly when you and Ethan had to part for air.

He grinned, unable to contain it.

“Thought there was no way in hell that would work,” Ethan admitted a little breathlessly. “Thought I never stood a chance with you, but I liked you anyway.”

Ethan had a boyish charm about him usually, but now that was combined with a streak of deviance that you finally now noticed.

You weren’t expecting to be as intrigued by it as you were.

“Give yourself a little more credit,” you told Ethan, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch a little. One hand rested on your shoulder and the other fell to hold your hip, tucking under your baggy shirt and rubbing your skin beneath. “You are pretty cute.”

Ethan’s smile only grew, but when you leaned in to kiss him again his lips met yours.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and guided the two of you to the ground with your back leaning against the wall. He was in front of you, on his knees, with you in his lap.

You ran a hand through his curly hair and you guided his lips back to yours. From what he’d revealed, Ethan hadn’t had a lot of experience with girls. It was a damn shame, because the boy was a great kisser.

His hand caressed your thigh as he trailed upward. You gave him a soft sound of encouragement when his fingers found their way to the waistband of your shorts.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asked, which made you want to grab him and kiss him again.

“Yeah.”

His hand slid into your shorts and your underwear.

One finger—you guessed middle—pushed inside of you. A small gasp escaped you at the intrusion and he watched your face.

Ethan was making sure the sound wasn’t of pain, which it wasn’t, and you appreciated that.

He withdrew the digit, then pushed in again. He repeated the motion a few more times before adding his index finger.

Ethan’s breathing grew heavy as he felt you squeeze around his fingers. He thrust and curled them inside you with rhythm. He managed to find one pretty quickly. That plus his thumb rubbing at your clit, you were falling apart in mere minutes.

Your brief orgasm rocked your whole body, leaving you clenching his fingers and quivering.

Ethan muttered things to you, but you could hardly hear over the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your head rested back against the wall as you caught your breath, still trembling from the aftershocks. Ethan withdrew his hand from between your legs and out of your shorts.

Your eyelids felt heavy, but in between slow blinks you saw him lift his fingers to his lips. You watched breathlessly as he placed them into his mouth and moaned at the taste of you.

No words would come out of your mouth, but he took rendering you speechless as a compliment.

“I’ve thought about that,” Ethan started, voice a little ragged. He was watching you, but his hand had moved off to the side. “What you’d look like… what you’d sound like… what you’d taste like.” The awe in his eyes as he spoke left you swooning.

“And?” you managed, sitting up a little straighter.

With the change in your angle, you could feel the bulge in his pants, even though the added layer of the costume he had yet to remove.

“You’re better than I ever imagined,” Ethan finished.

A scrape against the floor alarmed you. You looked to the sound and saw Ethan grabbing the knife off of the floor.

You watched as he brought it between your bodies. He first tucked it through the leg of your shorts, the cold metal sliding against your skin as it caught under your underwear as well. Then, he pointed the sharp side facing out. Finally, he sliced up through the fabric. You gasped a little as the cold air of the room hit your newly exposed skin. He did the same with the other leg, then pulled the tattered material away from your body.

You did the honors of pulling off your shirt. You didn’t have a bra underneath and you almost laughed at the way Ethan gawked at your fully naked body when you cast it aside.

“Your turn,” you told him. You were completely undressed, while he still wore the long, black disguise.

“Actually,” Ethan said a little eerily. There was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I was thinking I could leave it on?”

It was a question, there was room for you to say no. Maybe you should’ve, it was a little weird. But you weren’t really thinking about that. You were more focused on how badly you wanted Ethan to fuck you, and that clouded your brain.

“As long as you don’t put the mask back on,” you relented in a joking tone.

“You’re so fucking cool,” Ethan rushed out before slamming his lips into yours. The knife was cast aside again—you didn’t see it happen, but both of his hands were on your face.

You laughed a little against his lips, dazed and drunk on arousal. You didn’t really care about the logistics of it.

His hands moved down, but you were distracted by his lips dominating yours.

You heard the sound of his zipper being undone and he moved a little—you guessed shoving his pants down his thighs.

There was no time to look down because in a rush, Ethan was pinning you back against the wall with his body. One hand gripped your waist, holding you in place for him. The other was presumably guiding his cock to your entrance.

You gasped a little against his lips when he started to press forward while simultaneously pulling you down into his lap. The fabric of the costume draped over your thighs, blocking your view.

The stretch of his cock pushing into you was more intense than you could’ve predicted, but your whole body trembled with pleasure at the feel.

Finally, he either got too excited or lost his patience, and guided you down the rest of the way until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ethan cursed to himself, body straining to keep from moving. His head dropped to your shoulder, heavy breaths hitting your neck. He leaned against you, forcing you against the wall.

His cock twitched inside of you and his body tensed, trying to hold back.

You panted slightly, trying to get your breath back. You ran a hand up his back and you felt him shiver. Your hand moved up the back of his neck and into his mess of curls.

You always liked Ethan’s hair.

You gave a small, barely qualifiable tug, but it had an effect. His body jerked, causing him to move inside of you. You gasped a little, but the motion felt good.

He lifted his head to look at you. His face was a little flushed and the lust blown look in his eyes made you quiver.

“You can move,” you whispered out, not trusting your voice.

Ethan didn’t need to be told twice. He secured the arm around your waist a little tighter and he put the other hand on the wall, giving himself leverage.

The slow drag of him moving out of you made you gasp for breath. The thrust back in knocked the air out of your lungs.

He set a quick pace after that, hips slamming eagerly into yours as the pleasure and excitement overwhelmed him.

It felt good, really fucking good.

Neither of you knew exactly what you were doing, but you were sure you’d figured it out because your whole body tingled with pleasure.

You cried out his name, which only spurred him on.

In a jarring movement you could hardly track, Ethan dragged you from the wall to the floor. He put himself on top of you, never once withdrawing from inside of you.

He watched your face as he pounded into you. Ethan had more leverage this way, able to grip your hip in one hand while the other held the top half of him off of you by being planted on the floor near your head.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, which you couldn’t see because the bottom half of your body was covered by the black costume. You hardly paid any attention to that aspect. You didn’t care that he wore it, not when you were this caught up in pleasure.

(In hindsight, you should’ve).

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Ethan breathed out, hips starting the stutter with every thrust.

The knot in your belly started to tighten as he buried himself into you over and over.

You couldn’t speak, your breathing was so labored as you reached to cling to him.

His head dropped down to your shoulder as he allowed more of his body weight to fall onto you. You found yourself enjoying the feel of him truly being on top of you.

You hardly noticed the fake blood smearing onto your bare skin. When you did, you were too gone to care.

You bucked your hips, meeting his stuttering thrusts. He was getting close to his edge and so were you. You moaned beneath him as his forceful thrusts sparked pleasure through your entire body.

“I’m close,” you managed to moan out against his ear.

“Oh, fuck,” Ethan groaned out, cock pulsing inside of you at the thought. He lifted his head enough to be able to watch your face. “Come again for me, please,” he panted out, nearly falling over the edge at the mere anticipation.

The begging was hot, and your body was already ready to give him what he wanted.

You noticed his eyes flicking down your body, seeing the red stains on your skin. That was quickly forgotten by you when your whole body began to tense and quiver. You held onto him tight as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You didn’t see his eyes linger.

Ethan couldn’t hold it together, not with the way your body tightened around him as your orgasm rocked you.

He collapsed on top of you, holding you against him as his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were clenched shut as he frantically shoved his hips against yours, burying himself deep. His cock twitched, his whole body shivering as he spilled himself inside of you with a moan.

The sound of him alone was enough to prolong your pleasure as you rode it out, but the extra movement and the feeling of him filling you was an added bonus.

He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively pulling the air from your lungs.

After a moment, he found the strength to roll off of you, only to then drag you to his side.

“I can die a happy man, now,” he joked morbidly.

You shoved him a little by the shoulder like you had before, but not enough to actually make him go anywhere.

“Don’t say shit like that,” you argued weakly.

He flashed you a brief grin. “I meant it as a compliment.”

You rolled your eyes and did you best to laugh it off.

You lost track of how long it took you to move from the floor to your couch. The same thing happened between the time it took for you to get from the couch to your shower.

It was a tiny shower that couldn’t fit two people, so you rinsed off as quick as you could. You were tired, and your legs felt weak, and you knew you’d be sore in a way that would make it hard to keep calm tomorrow.

Whatever he had used for the blood, at least it washed off fast. You were able to finish up in a matter of minutes.

You threw on new pajamas and crawled into your bed, managing to tell Ethan to take however long he wanted and that he could stay over if he wanted.

You found yourself hoping he would.

You were nearly asleep when the shower shut off and Ethan finally joined you in bed. He was only in his boxers and a black t-shirt, which he must’ve been wearing under the costume robe.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind about the costume, wondering why he’d gone through all of that just to mess with you for a minute—albeit a terrifying minute. It didn’t seem like him, but then you remembered you’d only met him a few months ago.

You were so exhausted you fell asleep in his arms, not awake enough to care about all of the weird details. In fact, the only thing you could think about was how much you liked falling asleep with Ethan’s arms around you.

In the morning, you found out your friends had all been attacked.

You showed up with Ethan after the feed on your college’s chat app blew up with images of cops swarming and ambulances outside of Sam, Tara, and Quinn’s apartment.

Mindy seemed relieved to see you, but not so much when she realized Ethan was with you. Maybe she’d cleared you as a suspect in her head.

She yelled at him to stay back, accusing him of being the killer. Nobody was taking Quinn’s death well, but Mindy was especially heartbroken over Anika.

“Stay back!” Mindy yelled at Ethan, who did as she commanded.

Everyone turned on him then, even Chad. Everyone except you. They demanded his alibi.

“How do I know you’re not the killer, roomie,” Chad spit at him, amped up.

“I was with Y/N last night,” Ethan defended, holding his hands up in a small show of innocence, before you could say a word. “We were… preoccupied, alright?”

You wanted to elbow him for how he worded it, he couldn’t have been more obvious if he tried. It might’ve been on purpose, you weren’t sure.

He wasn’t close enough to do that, though, and now all eyes were on you.

“Yeah, he was with me,” you backed Ethan up.

You weren’t going to leave him hanging because it was the truth, but you knew what that implied, and so did your friends. They all shared subtle—but not unnoticeable—looks. Your face felt warm, while Ethan bit back a prideful smile.

“So you guys, um…”

“Chad, stop,” Tara scolded him before he could point out the obvious.

“Point is, we had nothing to do with this,” Ethan stated.

We?

They were suspicious of him, and now he was lumping the two of you together. There were always two killers in the movies—you began to doubt if the alibi would ease their anxiety or only spike it.

You thought back to when he had showed up to your apartment in that costume. He’d scared you, but you accepted it when he told you it was a joke that he mistakenly took too far.

It made you wonder. What if it was him?

If he wanted to hurt you, he easily could’ve. That didn’t seem to be his intention. What was? Seeing how much he could scare you? Get your heart rate up? Seeing if you wouldn’t believe him?

Or was it seeing if he could put the evidence right in front of you and have you ignore it because of a crush?

Fuck. Maybe it was some weird combination of all. Were you that gullible? Or were you overthinking it now?

Your brain struggled to come up with a conclusion.

You wanted to believe Ethan was innocent. You really, really did.

It was easier than believing you had slept with a killer. Or potentially worse, that you had feelings for one.

Ethan gave you a slight, assuring smile.

Your head told you one thing, but your heart told you another.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but you kept your mouth shut and gave him one back.

#quin-ns writing #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #scream #scream 6 #ethan landry smut

1K notes · View notes