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iznsfw · 1 year ago

Text

One Hop Ahead Of You

ARTMS' Jeon Heejin + woo!ah!'s Nana (Kwon Nayeon) x Male Reader Smut

18,039 words

Categories | bunny girls FTW, stepcest (kinda), blowjob, threesome, daddy kink, cunnilingus, angry sex, spanking, breeding

Bunny kpop idols are the best. There's Eunbi, Tsuki, then Heejin and Nana... Thanks for commissioning me this piece; sorry for the late post! Enjoy all the synonyms I could use for "but" :D

Phone on, headphones plugged, music loud. That’s your story for road trips such as these, and you’ve zero plans about rewriting the plot.

The scenery of beautiful mountains and blooming trees can’t break your focus on your mobile device. Your parents can’t either, as hard as they try; they’ve told you once or twice during the whole trip to look up from the screen for once. No, actually, scratch that: they’ve berated you about it at least every five minutes, and you’re starting to grow sick of pretending you can’t hear them. Your nonchalant continued stares on your phone don’t exactly convince them you can’t hear a thing.

Yeah, this is what happens when you give your toddler an iPad. The boomers might be right for this one. You can’t live without staring down at a bright screen, clicking at a bright screen, watching a bright screen. Eh, well, so what? Technology is a necessity in these modern days, and it just so happens that you need this kind of distraction on the road trip. Your mother and father think otherwise, but that’s because they live like it’s still the 70s or something. You don’t know. That’s how parents are.

Mobile data serves you well anyway. Your combat skills do not. You’ve been trying to kill a character on this app for a while, and it stuns you how strong her damage is. You click the sickle attack button more times than you can count and choose a special damage in between three taps, but you still end up dead. You’re seeking vengeance because the player talked shit about you on the main chat, and it doesn’t look like you’re going to show them up. You've got two deaths to go before you're seen as a pathetic little shit who tries too hard, and five kills to cement yourself as someone who isn't.

God, you’ve been playing this game for years—how are you still not good?

“Jay,” you could hear your mother call out from the edge of your earphones. She’s driving, her ringed hands firmly on the wheel. She meets your subtle gaze through the rearview mirror. “Jay.”

Groan. That’s your job as a son: to moan, groan, and drone on about everything and anything. You’re exceptionally skilled in this profession. “What now, mom?” you ask.

She gives you a sarcastic but playful little grin. “Oh, so you can hear me.”

Alright, you’ll let her have that one. But still: “Only because you’ve been nagging me for the whole trip.”

“Now now, don’t talk to your mother like that,” your father chides. He’s a kind-looking dude; he’s got triangle-shaped glasses and stubbles of a dead beard on his chin. “It’s true, but rude. Very rude, not a good look.”

Your mother clicks her tongue. She gives your father a millisecond glare before returning to driving. “Hey.”

“Honey, you know I love you, but your mouth—”

“Leave it at that,” she warns, voice dangerously tight.

Your dad doesn’t heed her warning. “—can be a nuisance.”

“That’s it. I’m pulling over. And you’re driving.”

He raises his hands. “Okay, okay,” he says passively, “I’m sorry.”

They harrumph at each other for a while, then kiss and make up, and you laugh a little. Subtly, of course. Everyone knows that part of going through teenage years (well, you’re a little past being a teen when you’re nearly twenty years old, but your mind is still the same as when you were sixteen) is denying with all your heart that your parents make you happy. You’re just going with the flow, as usual.

It especially doesn’t help that you’re already an adult according to the Korean age system. Adulthood brings a kind of defiant independence in you, which you don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not. It has its moments, you guess.

“Oh, look at that,” says your mother, nudging your father, “Jay’s laughing!”

“I’m not!” you reply, biting your cheek so the smile doesn’t grow. Must. Not. Show. Them.

Your father peeks at you from behind the headrest and grins mischievously. “See? We still got it, don’t we?”

The car swerves, barely making you match your fist bump with him. For this, you allow a slight smile—as much as you like to hide it like a career-ruining secret, you love your parents. They’re like two peas in a pod. Your father’s a rambunctious joke-loving guy your playful mother falls in love with everyday, resulting in, well, having you.

Plus, because of that, you haven’t felt the need to regret being born or despising your parents, unlike other people your age. Their love for each other inspires you, and although every moment with them is guaranteed to have you be a third wheel again, you don’t mind. You love seeing them happy.

“Now that you’re back to earth,” your mother says, “can you please appreciate the surroundings? It’s too beautiful to go ignored.”

“That’s right. They won’t surround you when we fly back home.”

“Dad,” you groan, rolling your eyes. But doing a little observing is the least you could do. You can go AFK on this match for once. You’ve still got more mobile data to last a few days, so worrying isn't needed.

Look up. Blink once. Twice. It’s like a whole new world. Humble homes peek from between forests in the lower sides of the mountains. The sun is shining brightly, casting a yellow light on the trees that decorate the sides of the swerving roads. And the sky… has it always been that blue? The wispy clouds are just the cherry on top.

This place is so different from the urban city where your apartment resides. There’s no smoke, no cut trees, no rising buildings. It’s nature in its most pure state.

There’s no traffic either, but—

“Mom, look out!” you yell, but you’re just a little too late. Just a little, and it would count, but for this one it doesn’t.

You can’t do anything about it then. The large truck that ventures on the wrong side of the road has a mission. Whether intentional or not, it can’t turn back. It collides heavily into the windshield, and you’re wrapped in dizziness and despair as your old car launches backward, rolling in the air a few times before roughly settling on the very curved edge of the road.

Then it slides downward. You’re stuck in a spiral blurred with green and wood. What you remember is the feeling of being tortured and tossed through trees, and the truck following suit. It chases you long after its mission is complete.

Another thing you recall from the accident, as you’re lying down on the rough grass with blood on the side of your head, are two rabbits that stare curiously at you.

They seem to be sisters.

Voices, male and female, scruff and saccharine. They fill your ears like music but you can’t open your eyes to see to whom they belong. They speak of confusing topics and jumbled words. Can’t get a grip of their meaning. All the while your soul is yearning to rise from sleeping when it feels like you’re dying and the force inside you is struggling in defying a black fate.

Your body, however, is blank of any pain. How strange. Strange enough that it’s a strong alarm for you to finally open your eyes. They’ve been glued together for a while, so when your vision greets you, you surprise even yourself. There’s a person in a white lab coat, and a white blanket mantles you. Is this heaven? Isn’t heaven’s signature color white?

First things first: how the fuck did they let you into heaven?

“Ah, so you’re finally awake.” A man with a rounded cap smiles at you. “How’re you doing, bud?”

Blink. So… this isn’t heaven? Do they wear caps in heaven? You don’t think so. Whoever invented denim caps deserves a nice little throne next to Lucifer. “Um. Alright, I guess?”

What should you even say when you’re trying to piece together who he was? You know you’ve seen him before when you were younger, but you’re not sure exactly when. All you’re aware of is that he looks too familiar. Kind of like deja vu. The beard and wrinkly skin tell you of a tale old as time.

“Hello, I’m doctor Kim,” says the woman in the lab coat as she approaches you. She extends a hand to you and you shake it politely. “You experienced a car crash in the morning near the terraces. Luckily, a man saw the tragedy and dialed 911.”

“Tragedy?” you wonder out loud. You’re still alive, so why would it be called that?

Doctor Kim lowers her head. “Your parents died immediately from the impact of the crash, sir. I’m sorry.”

Grief comes strangely to you, even when you’ve heard the news. You’d say you’re mourning, because you are, in a way—from that moment, you miss your parents dearly and wish that time travel existed so you’d prevent the accident from happening. But you aren’t… crying. You don’t burst into tears on the spot. There’s not even wetness in your eyes to help. Moreover, you haven’t made a small prayer for easier things to happen. It’s like the stages of grief avoid you at all costs and don’t even bother to orient you about their loss.

Maybe you’re just in denial. You’ve been staring at a blank spot on the hospital wall for what seems like ages, and you’ve only been conscious for minutes. Something’s changed within.

Wonder who’d be your parent now that both of yours are gone. You’re an orphan. You don’t even know how to drive back home or go back to the convenience store where you make your money. All your belongings for the road trip that was supposed to go beautifully are gone in the accident.

Bite your lip thoughtfully. “Was it quick?” you ask quietly.

The doctor knows what you mean. Whether she’s lying or not is the question. “Yes.”

That comforts you a bit. What eats your insides from guilt, though, is that you never bothered to enjoy the road trip with them. You were always stuck to your damn phone. You didn’t talk much with them during their final moments, and it would haunt you forever. It doesn’t show on your face, though—it’s completely empty, devoid of any expression or pain.

“You really don’t recognize me, bud?” the man laughs, like he actually couldn’t believe it.

Blink. Then it hits you. “Chan hyung…?” you ask. Hope you got it right because you’re steepering on sureness now.

“Bullseye.” So you did. He sits down on the edge of the hospital bed and cups your hand. “I’m a friend of your parents. They told me to look after you in case anything happens. They really loved you, y’know? Still do.”

You look down meekly and nod. Yeah, he’s right. They did. The other part’s true, too; if they had souls and were secretly watching the whole ordeal going on, they’d still love you. That’s how unconditionally they did it.

“I’m on the emergency contacts list, FYI.” He hands you his phone. “They even had a will and all. I hate that we got to meet again like this. Could have been in better circumstances. But that’s life, you know. Plus, it was quick enough to be painless.”

Your hand, linked to the dextrose, hardens in pain as it wraps around the device, but you go on. There on the screen, see that your parents did in fact keep him on the emergency contacts. He’s telling the truth. Now you understand why he looks so familiar.

Look up from the screen, (like you should have in the car when your mother and father tried to make conversation with you.) “I—I used to play baseball with you,” you say in childlike wonder.

Chan laughs. “So I did. I’ll be happy to look after you. Probably even be your father, if you’d like.”

Your heart rises. “You’d really do that?”

“Of course! Your parents were good people, and I’d be glad to have you in my care. According to them, you’re a pretty good kid. Hope that’s true.”

“No promises.”

He laughs. He’s still got the same not-too-serious sense of humor like he did years ago. “What do you say, kid?”

He’s being a good guy, a good friend to your parents even after they passed, and you appreciate it. But being his son this quick after so much time seems like… betraying them. You know that’s not how it works, and your parents would have loved for you to gel quickly with him, but you’re just not ready. Something’s pulling you back.

What could it be?

“I…” you say, fidgeting. You don't know the right words to put it. “C-can I think about it first?”

The look on his face drops, but he smiles anyway. He must be a really good friend to be this understanding. “Of course,” he replies, retracting his hand from yours, “shouldn’t have put you on the spot. Just tell me yes or no when you’re ready. Deal?”

Three days is how long it takes for you to recover. To be fair, you already were—your limbs are working, and that’s enough for you. The doctors, however, insist on a lengthier stay and you kind of want to start shit in the living room and tell them how they were money-greedy exploitative little shits, but you’re not in the mood to cause a ruckus. Maybe some other time, when you eventually break all your bones and wheel out of the hospital cursing them for the bill. But yeah, some other time would work. Of course.

“I took the liberty of packing your stuff up for you,” says Chan, bringing over a luggage bag. It’s full to the edge of the zipper with clothes and other essentials.

You wonder how he went to your home and back here to the hospital this fast. “How did you—”

“I had some help,” he replies simply. You don’t question any further.

You’re in a clean pair of clothes now. You hated wearing the hospital gown. It’s like they attempted to make hospitals less sad by fashioning a bib into a larger size. There you are with your assumptions again. Maybe the stages of grief have come for you after all. Why do you feel angry all the time? This can’t be normal.

What stage would it be if you’re afraid to get into a car because of their loss? You step into it with shaky legs, looking back and forth, as if you’re scared the vehicle would lurch forward suddenly. To be fair, it is a possibility, but a rare one. Your fear, therefore, is completely irrational, yet there you are: suddenly scared of… cars?

Get in finally. The breath you let go, however, has been keen on getting out.

Chan knows well to avoid the path your parents went on when they died. He avoids it for both of your own wellbeings. They were close to him, too. He would hate to go down the road they died on. Like you, he wants to remember them fondly, not like the injured bodies that he said goodbye to at the morgue. Again, it’s for the best.

“Hey, kid,” he says. His peer at you through the rearview mirror gives you painful flashbacks. “You okay?”

He’s more attentive than he gives himself away as; he somehow notices your blank stare at the window and weak smile. He’s got you figured out, and you suppose that’s a good thing—it just shows how he could play his role as your dad pretty well if you let him. But then there’s the sense of yearning in you that’ll end up in no good. It’s yearning for your parents to come back, the yearning for them to somehow have the breath of life in their lungs again and have them rise from the morgue and walk back into your life. If they do that, you’d make an oath to be the best son.

Ah, you know that won’t happen. It’s impossible. It’s wishful thinking that won’t amount to anything.

“You could talk to me.” His eyes stare straight at the road, but he’s not really looking at anything. “I miss them, too.”

“I’m fine, hyung,” you say. You’re not, but who needs to hear that? Not the guy to whom your parents entrusted you to. You’re twenty years old—who needs to hear an overgrown child’s lamentations?

You don’t want to burden Chan at all. What you don’t know is he’s actually willing to hear all of it. You should have lamented about not knowing his openness rather than everything else. It would only lead to more sadness.

The sadness evaporates a little upon seeing his house. It’s a nice place, with two stories and a nice terrace to lounge at. Maybe, from the other side, it’s your parents’ way of still loving you: giving you a nice home and a nice (future?) dad.

They're still looking after you. Look up in the sky and smile. Chan catches it, and for a second you blush in embarrassment, but he smiles, too. "See?" is what he says, followed up with: "Everything's gonna be fine."

Trust him on that.

Open the front door and it welcomes you into his home. Its main color is pure white. You start to wonder how the white walls are unblemished even with its ruinable color. Maybe he had it cleaned up for your sake. The furniture's good, too, but all it's good for right now is to be a bed for your luggage when you start to arrange things.

"Your room's right over there," Chan says, pointing to an open door to your left. "Feel free to get some food or water. Whatever you like. You're family now." He steps closer and pats your shoulder. "Always been."

Smile appreciatively. Resist the urge to hug him and replace it with folding a few of your clothes into a pile to bring it over to your bedroom. Graphic shirts in one pile here, underwear and sleeveless shirts in the other over there. Add your headphones on top of the pile and you’re ready to start adjusting to your new room. Just one look and you could already tell it’s bigger than the one back at home. Well, former home, to be exact. You keep forgetting this is a whole new place that’s going to be where you sleep, rest, and laugh.

That voice gets your guard down, and so does the girl standing in front of you. That deep voice certainly can’t belong to the sweet-but-indifferent-faced girl leaning against your door frame. Look around for a bit to see if it’s anyone else’s, but there’s no one around. Just you and the alluring woman blocking the pathway to your new room.

She gestures to the stack of clothes in your arms with her brows. “You plan on doing anything with that or what?” she asks.

Yeah, that deep voice definitely is hers; you can hear it loud and clear. Not one syllable could belong to anyone else, no one but her. What’s her name? It’s—

“Heejin,” says Chan exasperatedly. Amusement is present in his tone too as he walks over to break it up and sling an arm around his daughter’s shoulder. “Don’t scare the new guy and let him in his room, please?”

“I’m just being curious, daddy,” Heejin explains.

Oh, so that’s her name. Heejin. Jeon Heejin. Neat. Has a nice ring to it, but it somehow spells trouble. You swear those letters can’t make up that word, but with Heejin, it sure does. Not only does her name spell it, but so do her eyes that are way too observant, tracking your every move with prolonged glances, and the tilt of her head as if she were a trained German Shepherd rather than the animal she reminds you of: a bunny.

A bunny?

Wait—

"Oh, it's you!" you say. Almost drop your clothes on the floor when you realize it. How could you not have caught on?

Heejin smiles. It brings the sense of familiarity to wash more over your mind like waves. "Thought you would never recognize me, Jay," she says. "Hi there."

Try not to gawk with all your might, but you do anyway. Just hope it isn't obvious because see here, the Jeon Heejin you know used to be a shy little thing, never wanting to come out and play with you when you were younger out of embarrassment. Now, she writes confidence into each and every one of her moves, with a dazzling little smile to go along with it. How did she manage the transformation? You need the tips ASAP.

"Oh, right." Chan slaps a hand to his face and shakes his head. "You two've met before, right?"

She's a little sleazy when she rests her back on the frame again and nods, eyes never leaving your body. If anything, she's the one who's gawking and even if, for argument's sake, you are, it's just an eye for an eye. The two of you are just amazed at how much the other has grown up. Nothing more.

(Or… ?)

"So it seems," she says bluntly.

"Ah, should have known. But it was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

"Mhm." Heejin looks you up and down and smiles. "You've grown up."

"So have you," you reply, because she has. Toned muscle clings to her arms and she’s let go of the rectangle-shaped glasses. Now, circular Harry Potter spectacles sit on the bridge of her pointy nose. She stares at you through them for a while. She's a CCTV; she's monitoring your moves in HD and watching you put your clothes in neat piles in the cabinet drawers. Heejin gives you a stare that lingers long after you're done folding them. She's thinking of something, and you're not sure if you want to know.

"Daddy," she calls out.

You don't know what you're doing when you turn your head in her direction. Much less when she winks at you. Blush furiously and hide your face behind spread shirts.

Chan peeks from the living room. "Yeah, hon?"

"I think Nana's waiting for you to pick her up? It's 3 p.m.."

"Ah, right. Can’t forget about that little rascal.” He wipes his mouth and gets up. “Help Jay with his stuff, please, Heekki?"

It only takes seconds for Chan to find his keys, but for you it takes hours. Your heart beats loudly at the thought of being alone with Heejin, and you can’t differentiate its drumming with being nervous or excited. When he finally gets out and you hear the car pull out of the way, you’re stuck. Heejin’s somewhere near the corner of your room but it doesn’t look like she’s the one who has nowhere to go.

She’s stunning with all those locks of shiny dark hair curtaining her shoulders and fit body. Her legs do more than peeking out from her low-cut shorts as she navigates your new room. The round glasses that sit on her nose just pull her whole, gorgeous look together. You can’t believe how beautiful she’s become. She was always a pretty girl, but the maturity and growth that coursed through her early years of adulthood made her glow. It’s like you’re looking at a new, refined version of her.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” says Heejin. She picks away at a poster of a famous basketball player, name redacted. “They were good people.”

“Trust me,” you sigh, “I know.”

God knows you didn’t appreciate your parents much. It’s a pet peeve of yours to be reminded to be grateful in grave situations, but your mother and father were different from other pairs of parents. Others were abusive, neglectful, cruel. Yours knew how to take care of you while letting you dip your toes into the pool of freedom at the same time. Your parents loved you. Not a lot of people could say that.

“And they told my dad to take you in, huh?”

“Does that bother you?” you say, with an unintentional bladed edge to your voice. Realize how you said it and immediately shut your mouth.

Heejin blinks, disarmed for a while, then recovers quickly with a smile that’s just as dazzling as her. “For what it’s worth,” she says, taking the chance to place herself beside you a little too close for anything that isn’t lustful intent, “I’d love to have you over here as long as you like.”

You don’t know what to say. Her being this close with you is setting off fireworks inside of you. Put a pillow snug in your lap just to be sure and nod. “Thanks, Heejin.”

“Of course.” Heejin rests her chin on your shoulder and whispers so softly that it could’ve been your imagination deluding you again: “I’ll make your time here worthwhile.”

Jerk your head, but she’s already scampering to the door and exiting your room. She doesn’t even look back.

“Hey,” you say, trying to break the ice that only freezes you, “Chan hyung said you would help me with my stuff!”

No response.

So you were right to think that she’s trouble. But god, would you love to be wound up in her.

You’ve stared at the ceiling for too long, but now, it’s not out of grief. It’s out of fear. Are you doing the right thing by wanting to fuck your sister? Well, she’s not exactly your sister yet, but she’s somehow related to you now considering her father treats you as a son, too. A stepsister, maybe? There’s no other fitting term than that.

What should you do? Is gawking at her and her desirable body going to make your parents in the afterlife proud? You’re sure they’d be disappointed. But is it your fault that Heejin’s grown into this naturally flirtatious woman? Not at all. Is it your fault that she’s so damn attractive? The answer is no, too.

It could be a yes though, because it isn’t Heejin to blame that her new brother wants to have sex with her. You’re both in the wrong, and two of those don’t exactly make a right.

Look around your room, then at the door where she leaned on as she successfully intimidated you. Is it locked? Fuck it, you don’t know, and you probably don’t even care. What you do know is that you’re too turned on by the thought of your new sister Jeon Heejin, and you need to do something about it.

(To the cracked hole in the fourth wall, you say, What? I have needs, too, you know. And you do, too—why do you think you’re reading this now?)

Lift your comforter just a little and slide your hand south. Cup your bulge, caress it, then spring it out. It’s already solid, and it doesn’t need too many strokes to have the blood rushing there completely. Your stiff rod aches for a touch, aches for Heejin, and stimulates itself to the thought of her as you start to jerk off.

You think of how she could swing those full thighs over each side of your face, and though her form would burden your chin, you’d happily eat of her. Bet that her pussy’d taste just as good as her lips. You’d lick and suck her clit while she moans and writhes until the two of you couldn’t take it anymore; her core would feel numb after the pleasure and your jaw would ache for days.

You recall how her lips were just inches away from you earlier, only barely touching the curve of your ear. Think of how those lips would feel much better if they were on yours. Yearn for your mouths to meet to the point that you’re moaning in each other, taking in the natural scent of skin and sex.

Finally, you think of the changes you’ve seen in her. Where was the shy, antisocial Heejin of yesterday? Now she’s grown, just like you, and looks far better than you’d imagine. She’s turned into this will’o the wisp goddess.

“Heejin,” you say, as quietly as you could, “Heejin, Heejin, Heejin—”

“God, I really turned you on that much, huh?”

Your pumps stop, and your sight catches onto the said woman you’ve been jerking off to. She’s in the same place as she was earlier, at her opening scene at the door frame. You’re more than happy to see the pretty Heejin, but she can’t show up now. Not when you’re jerking off. She can’t just appear in the corner like she teleported for the pure purpose to catch you in the act.

“Heejin!” you yell, pulling the covers onto yourself. “G-get out of my room!”

She’s wearing her sleep clothes now, but she still looks like she dressed to impress. Her body pulls together the skimpy shorts and loose shirt she sleeps in into something that could have been worn on a haute couture catwalk. Her raised brows, haughty eyes, and quirked mouth all show how she’s smugger than the word itself.

“Aww,” Heejin says, walking over to sit on your bed, “what should we do to you now, oppa?”

You’re horrified, to say the least. It’s your first day at a new house and you’re already doing something wrong. The bare minimum you should do in this situation is to tell the girl to fuck off. Tell her to go far away and flee to anywhere but your room. You can’t just stare at her like she’s a dream come true, even if she is.

Let’s see: you have your new sister on your bed who caught you jerking off. There has to be some other way this would end, but the two of you know where this leads. The question that remains is if you’d be able to hold back.

You make the first step to resisting the inevitable outcome. “Heejin,” you say, breaths shredded into panicked little gasps, “I’ll only say it again and no more. Get out of my room.”

She smiles sweetly and shakes her head. “Can’t make me. I want to know what you were doing, Jay.”

“No!” You won’t be saying it, you won’t dream of saying it, you’d rather die than to be caught saying it. It’s already bad enough when it goes unspoken. What more if you pronounce what you were doing with each syllable more embarrassing than the other?

“Then I guess I should just��—she tugs the covers off—”oh my, Jay oppa. You were touching yourself to me. And I thought I was just being narcissistic.”

Your cock leaks in the cold air. Heejin laughs tauntingly. It sounds so much more attractive than it should, especially when her voice is deep and rich. It sounds… sexy?

Oh, what are you doing? You should feel embarrassed, maybe even petrified at the mere thought of your childhood acquaintance slash new sister slash new crush seeing your dick. But your mind doesn’t brew with insecurities upon seeing her eyes glimmer with eagerness.

She can’t do this. No, no, no, you can’t do this either. Let fucking her remain a fantasy pirouetting in your head, not one that comes true. It’s so much more awkward when it translates into real life where you somehow think it into existence.

Awkwardness isn’t in Heejin’s dictionary, though. She looks far from uneasy or disgusted. In fact, you swear there’s a small grin dimpling her cheeks. It’s like she’s actually flattered that you’re jerking off to her.

“If I knew you had such a big cock, Jay oppa…” she says, placing a hand on your hip to prop herself on it. You jerk involuntarily, which happens at the worst time; your cock almost brushes her cheek. “I would have let you fuck me in front of daddy. Or would you rather I call you daddy?”

“Why are you here, for god’s sake?” you say. You’re biting your lip to suppress your humiliated screams.

“Well,” she taps her chin, a feat that would be adorable if you’d just cast the situation aside, “I thought I heard something, and it was just as I suspected.”

“Fine, I’ll say it for the third time: Jeon Heejin, get the fuck out of my room.”

“Oh, that’s right. Say my name, oppa. Daddy.” She winks. “Say it and I might just put my lips on this big fat cock.”

“No, you won’t.”

It sounds more challenging instead of intimidating, and it’s clear that Jeejin doesn’t cower away from dares anymore. “Watch me.”

She lowers herself onto your lower body and admires your length with bright bunny eyes. “I’d let you blow in my mouth as much as you like. I’d fuck my throat on it and give it a nice good kiss. Oh, right, you wanna know how? Like this.”

She engages with your dick into an open-mouthed osculation, swallowing the tip and suckling it, too. Groan, but when you pull your hand out to do the opposite to her head, she’s already sitting back up. You really can’t have your way here, not when your new sister knows of her danger and puts it to good use. She’s resourceful like that, and it both impresses and scares you.

Heejin wags her finger in your face as if she were scolding a trouble child. “No, no, Jay oppa,” she reprimands you. “That was just a teaser. If you really want me, jerk off to me. Say my name.”

You can’t say no to her. Well, actually, you can—you just refuse to. You’re fifty-percent scared of the outcome of making this deal with Heejin and fifty-percent excited. There’s an Alice-like curiosity in you that yearns to see what might happen. Would she really keep her end of the deal and suck you off? Or leave you with blue balls like she did earlier?

Wrap your hand unsurely around your penis again. She nods encouragingly.

Do your usual routine: up and down. Murmur her name over and over, your gaze connected with hers. Her smile grows bigger as your pumps become less measured. You start to spiral out of control. How can you not when she’s just too fucking hot? Her succubus stare, thighs that look fuller as they rest on your mattress, her intent that grows more clear as she rubs your thigh. You’re trapped in lust, and you know you have to settle down a little before you completely lose track of all senses, but you can’t stop. How could anyone when there’s Jeon Heejin as she lives and breathes in front of you?

Say her name, say her name.

Say it like a poem, say it like it’s one of fame.

Say it like you’re about to cum, which you are, and your climax isn’t one that’s too far—

“That’s it, Jay,” says Heejin in a tone that’s almost loving. As your cum shoots an obscene, one-direction spurt, she replaces your hand with hers. “Cum for me. You want to fuck me so bad it’s pathetic.”

Her touch is as rough as it is soft. You say it’s too much in between thin whimpers of pleasure, but her flexed hand is determined to keep pumping. Her fist tightens and her jerks grow stronger.

“Naughty, naughty oppa. Look at this thick hot cum. Is it all for me?”

You’re spraying all over her and her meaty thighs. Her shorts get stained and you try with all your might to contain the bursts of white, but you end up on the edge again. You end up releasing more. Your thoughts run in circles and bump into each other—they’re scolding you, hurting you, asking you why the fuck are you cumming from your new sister’s handjob. You’d answer them by saying you don’t know, but you know the reason probably more than you know yourself:

Heejin is unbearably alluring, and her giving you a handjob is unbearably wrong. Strangely, both of these facts get you going. The mere truth that she shouldn’t be doing this with you makes you want more of it. Has grief taken a more different route in traumatizing you? Oh god, what would your parents think?

What would Chan think? He trusts you enough to be a good big brother to Heejin. Would you really throw his trust in you away, all for his irritatingly hot oldest daughter?

If you’d take a look at the situation—you having just ejaculated on her—it seems like it.

“No,” you say. It’s a crack in your integrity knowing that you could stress her name in any way or form, and she’d still be hot as fuck. It wouldn’t undo what she did to you and what you let her do. “P-please. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“That’s what makes it fun, right?” She wipes your cum from her thighs with her shirt. “Besides, I did say I’ll make your time worthwhile.”

How does that work? A brother and sister, whether related by blood or not, should bond by having sincere talks and treating each other, not by having sex.

(But she’s right about the fun part. Looks like Heejin is just as fucked in the head as you are.)

“I want to have some fun, Jay oppa,” she explains. She places her palms on her thighs caked with cum, and pouts. From that, you know you can’t resist. You wouldn’t dare. “Won’t you let me, pretty please?”

She’s both hot and adorable. Hot enough to drive you crazy and adorable enough to convince you to do any of the most mundane things out there. You don’t know how to do this with her. It seems like no matter how cute or sleazy she poses herself as, she’ll always get what she wants somehow.

It’s dumb of you to even try, but you do: “Okay, what fun do you want to have?” Say this while collecting tissues from the little box at your bedside table to wipe down her thighs. You expected to use the tissues for self-love sessions and nights when the tears couldn’t stop. You never thought that you’d have to use them to clean your cum from your new sibling’s legs.

“You know exactly what I want: I want this”—she points at your cock—”in here”—then at the center of her shorts.

Immediately your already gray morals come out to play. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Heejin,” you say, biting your lip to stay quiet. It’s not intentionally hot or whatsoever, but Heejin’s mind particularly hangs onto that for a while. “We’re brother and sister now. We can’t do this. What if your dad finds out?”

“Aww, I get it. I do, really. But you’re so going to hit my guts if you fuck me right now.” She throws off her shorts, leaving her in nothing but a set of cute pink panties. Then, she scoots herself over so that your cock rests upon her small belly, right in front of her core. “See? You can spread me that well, and I won’t mind at all. I promise.”

Look at your cock and how far it can reach inside her, how it can push her walls apart. Oh god, it’s tempting. Everything about her, from her perfect face to her spread thighs, calls for you to forgo propriety and just fuck her.

“This bunny’s waiting for you, oppa.” Heejin does more than wait and pulls down your boxers. Pulls down her panties. Pulls down your ethics and morality and principles and everything you used to go by; down they go into the river of fire. “This bunny girl’s gonna fuck herself on this cock. You want that, don’t you, daddy? You want me to ride you and call you daddy. Make me call myself your little bunny. Yeah, I’ve got you all figured out.”

What she’s doing may be wrong, but what she’s saying is right. You, in all unfiltered honesty, want to see Heejin bounce on you and ride you endlessly. Her toned thighs and calves are made for it. She deserves getting what she wants after jerking you off.

But does Chan deserve this: have his new son and his daughter betray his trust? Turn the family upside down all because of lust?

Oh, who cares what he thinks? When Heejin slides her pussy down your cock in one try despite her refusing tightness, you lose your thoughts. The will to take her roughly, just like she deserves, takes its place. It rules your head with an iron fist, just like how you rule Heejin’s impossibly tight pussy with iron-clad thrusts.

“Oh, oh, oh fuck,” she gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut and grabs onto your shoulders. Her hold is tight. That’s one thing it has in common with her cunt. “Daddy, you’re so big. I can’t, p-properly ride it, you’re too big.”

Your cock is held hostage by Heejin’s stubborn cunt. She wants it to stuff her fully, but never could let it inside her. She’s too tight. Your hands on her waist, you push her down as gently as you could. She lets out deep groans and sighs.

“That feels so good, daddy,” she tells you. After that, you achieve a dream you never thought would come true, as light as it is compared to fucking her: a kiss. It’s not as passionate as her bouncing on your crotch, but it’s good enough to have you blushing. “Yes, you like it when your little bunny girl kisses you? You like how tight she is?”

You nod. That’s all you can do when you’re speechless. What else can you say to her? You can’t tell her that it isn’t true when every iota of her words are true.

“You can do better than that, daddy,” Heejin gasps, head tossed back. A storm of black hair hangs over your bed clothes. “I know you can. Yes, just like that. Do it. Fffuck me harder, I want it, fuck—”

Clearly, slow, precious pumps into her tiny hole aren’t going to work. So it isn’t exactly all your doing when you lift Heejin and suddenly have her pinned to the bed. The balance of power is reversed—you’re now pounding her to your mattress, spreading her legs and propelling your thrusts into the perfect target: her small, damp hole. You take advantage of how wet she is by thrusting bluntly and exclude the rest of your length for a chance to breathe. With Heejin, though, there’s no such thing as breathing. She’s left you gasping for air since your reunion.

“Hnnn, lookie here, daddy.” She lifts her shirt, revealing a surprising set of subtle yet hard abs, where your bulge appears and disappears. “You’re so big that you’re, fu— fucking reaching my tummy. That’s why you have to go deeper. Can’t waste such a big cock, right?”

She grabs your waist to aid your pumps. She must have done some serious lifting in the gym; those harsh tugs and pulls have got to be from somewhere. You’re thrown into a looped route of jamming your tip against her G-spot and cervix hard. Heejin’s grippy pussy refuses to let you go through the night without going down on her. Not that you’d have it any other way. Silly how just moments ago you were telling her not to continue her advances, yet now you’ve advanced past flirty banter with her.

Make it a point, no, a goal to thrust upward rather than only forward. She spreads her legs more, and you reach under her loose shirt to squeeze her breasts. Her nipples are perky and deserve each of your tweaks. Heejin whimpers, as if she were an actual bunny caught into a trap. What a terrible hunter you are, but it’s simply revenge. The disguised predator, Heejin, was actually prey—she’s caught into the ropes she went to with confident hops.

The hunter becomes the hunted.

“Fuck, you’re going to put a baby in me,” whines Heejin. “C-can’t do that, just—no, just cum on my stomach, please. My mouth, my legs, anywhere.”

When she puts it that way, it makes you spite the fact that it’s forbidden. You want to release in Heejin and make her feel your warm cum. Let it infiltrate her womb and give her a baby. You can’t have that happen, yet you want it to happen. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Please,” you say. You’re getting incredibly close that it rides on your tongue like the aftertaste of a dessertful. You can’t believe you’re actually begging to cum inside her, but any man would if put in your place. Anyone who thinks it’s pathetic clearly hasn’t met Heejin face to face.

“Daddy,” she says, “you can’t…”

Saddening news, and she isn’t too happy about it either. The tremble of her lower lip is one you capture with a firm kiss. Your breaths get caught in her mouth as you near climax. And the orgasmic Heejin’s wrapping her legs around you tight, as if daring you to breed her even if she’s clearly told you not to. It’s like her legs, sealed around your hips, bear the weight of the advantages and disadvantages and spread them out for you, yet the thing in between them makes you forget all about the cons.

It’s scary how you almost give in.

Just in time, however, you pull away and bust a load on her tummy. It’s the product of all the jabs your rod did at it. It’s only fair it gets to show the plentiful result laid all over the muscled skin.

Heejin looks down at the pool of cum while gasping for air. She swallows, then smiles. “Not bad for a guy who’s gonna be my big brother.”

You can already tell having sex with her is going to become a usual affair. The look she flashed you before leaving for school is telling enough. When she woke you up with a sloppy blowjob, saying in between soft suckles that “I have at least one hole you could fill,” you went insane. You’ve made your bed. Now you have to lie in it.

To be fair, you’d lie in Heejin forever if you could. But as a son, you have duties to fulfill. Although Chan told you that you’re free to do whatever you wish, you still have the sense to help around the house. You don’t want to be seen as a burden. You’d want to be anything but the new son who doesn’t know how to do things, especially for your new sisters.

Your new relationship with Heejin, though, exceeds familial bond. Will you hide it from Chan or put a stop to what she’s doing before it transforms completely? Down the road feelings from both ends might get involved and increase the overall taboo of the situation. Chan would probably get suspicious.

You don’t know what to do.

Take your mind off things. Make an extravagant meal, or at least a style-over-substance one. Follow the instructions of a recipe for mashed potatoes at the back of the gravy powder packet. Hell, you could do this: set cut and peeled potatoes in a pot of briskly boiling water, mash them after smearing them with butter, shake pepper onto those motherfuckers… done!

Put your masterpiece into a bowl and set it on the table. It actually looks pretty good. Maybe being a chef is your calling. You can already imagine the scenarios you’d go through as one. Chef Jay doesn’t sound too bad, right?

Chan is at work while Heejin’s at college. You’re glad you won’t be seeing Heejin for the remainder of the day; as much as you’d hate to see her go, meeting her would make you feral. She left a to-do list on a post-it sticky note on the fridge door, which looks like it’s been there for a while if you take into consideration the boxes all being checked.

A more recent one, however, is Chan’s own reminders written on a piece of ruled college notebook paper, apparently addressed to you and Nana:

Good morning! Have an awesome day ;)

Please treat yourself to the Mcdonalds in the fridge, just reheat it pls

Take care of yourselves, love you!

Ah, you wouldn’t have made mashed potatoes if you knew Chan had left some McDonald’s. You hope that he still remembers your favorite from years ago: a classic Big Mac with medium fries to go.

Open the fridge eagerly and—

There’s nothing?

You know who it is. That voice is decidedly more youthful than Heejin’s, but not anymore that high. It’s Nayeon. Nana, to be exact. Everyone you know calls her Nana in order to avoid confusing her with Im Nayeon who’s somewhere in the line of the kids of your parents’ friends.

Nana’s younger by only a year, hence being the perfect playmate for you back then. The two of you would run around and yell at each other gleefully, basking in the joys of childhood you didn’t know would last that short.

So, when you step closer to her, you don’t really believe it’s her. If there’s anything in common between the bright Nana and the laid-back Heejin, it’s that they’ve both grown up beautifully.

“Nana?” you ask.

Her hair was a silky black then, often wrangled in between with sand and dirt, but now, it’s a mass of coffee brown. It looks like she’s gotten glasses, too, aside from a light fringe that settles prettily on her forehead.

But then there’s Nana’s body, which you used to pick up as a child to mimic flying heroes with, which has grown… voluptuous. In the volleyball shorts and casual statement tee, it flatters her medium-sized bust and meaty thighs just right.

(It probably even coaxes you into thinking she’s the perfect… girlfriend?)

Her face still is adorable as ever. If someone were to put the cutest face in the world with the perfect body, the outcome would be Nana. She’s more than that, actually; she just so happens to be exactly your type.

Oh no, here you go again. Your feelings for her from your youthful days resurge, and you realize you’ll probably add another fuck-up to the list before this day ends. Meeting Heejin was one thing, but Nana, your first grade playmate slash friend slash childhood crush? Slash new sister? You’re as good as dead to Chan if he finds out what you want to do to her.

“Jay oppa!” says Nana. Her smile has grown more beautiful, just like the rest of her. It’s still cheeky, but wider. “You remember me, right?”

How could you not? “Y-yeah.”

“Aww, sweet!” Nana pokes you on the shoulder. “Anyway, I ate your Big Mac, sorry. I got hungry.”

Oh, so Chan did remember your favorites.

“One meal wasn’t enough for you?” ask her, grinning. You still got that playfulness in you with her. Hopefully she reciprocates.

She gives you the finger.

Scoff and turn away with raised hands. “If it makes you feel better, I made potatoes for you,” you announce, “but I guess I’ll have them since you ate my Big Mac.”

“Meanie.”

“Overgrown baby.”

“Jaybird.”

It’s just like the old times, except for today, nobody gets hurt. The two of you know the truth: you’ve missed each other so much. Not a day goes by when you don’t think of each other. You’re embedded into the depths of everyday thoughts, the times when she’d say oh no, I wasn’t thinking of you but only because she doesn’t realize it because you’re layers upon layers upon layers of idle thought.

It would take an expeditioner to navigate through the history you and Nana have.

You’re childish. What makes up for it is what you say next, because it’s kind of true and isn’t merely something to say just for the hell of it, as you step forward and lower your gaze to her with a sobering glare: “Brat.”

Nana approaches you with her hands folded behind her back. She tilts with each step, as if contemplating on whether she is one or not. “Am I?”

She’s so much smaller than you, yet your hands fill up when you place them on her hips. Her waist is tiny compared to the slopes of her hips and thighs. Her cheeks (on both parts, to be clear, because you know what you’re thinking) are sizable, too, and you can’t choose between the two pairs on which to squeeze.

“Yeah.”

“Can you handle it?”

You see where this is going. You’re still a mirror of each other, and the glass still reflects lust. “Nana.”

“Fine,” she says indifferently. She hops on the kitchen island and crosses her arms. That should be a sign that she’s going to be anything but. “Be like that. Pretend you don’t know what I wanna do. Even better, pretend you don’t like me.”

She’s got it all wrong. Draw in some air and let it out immediately. “I do like you, Nana,” you clarify. “But—”

“But?”

How do you tell her what the matter is without revealing that you just had sex with Heejin the night before? You’ve no idea how to go through this. Your feelings for her collide with your attraction to her sister, as well as what you did with her.

No outcome of this is morally right, but who cares for morality? You do, although you’re the last person who should be talking about that. You’re trying to salvage what’s left of your ethics and piece it together to make yourself believe that you’re a good person. Newsflash: you’re not. No good person would fuck his new sister and want to fuck the other, too.

Whir the script you used for Heejin for her younger sister. “We’re family now,” you say weakly.

Nana rolls her eyes. “Get off your high horse.”

“It’s not a high horse. It’s… it’s decency.”

“Hm. Okay.”

It’s surprising how quick Nana concedes. Her simple answer should have led to a simple result: the two of you never talking about this again and respecting the boundaries of the other. But no, she’s walking towards you, setting her hands on your shoulders. Her mouth is nearing yours, somewhere you’ve dreamed of it residing despite it being so wrong.

“Then stop me,” she dares you. It’s a tougher dare than the ones she made you do on the playground. “If you’re so righteous and don’t want to kiss me, stop me.”

You shouldn’t kiss her. You want to, but it’s something that should never happen. Your feelings for her since your childhood days can’t come out to play when she’s your new sister. No unspoken law of morality says that it’s fine for you to sweep her up in your arms, kiss her, and take her to bed. If you do, you’re committing multiple crimes.

Nana is the braver felon. She presses her lips on your mouth, and you have to admit, in spite of the wrongness, that it’s everything you’ve dreamed of. Her chapsticked mouth is soft and sweet. You really should have held back. Nevertheless, her tongue is in your mouth, and soon you’re holding her head in your hands so you could kiss her properly.

She’s turned you into a felon, too. So rob her of her breath. Hold her body hostage on the island. Kill your hesitation. You’re one of the same, yet only one of you has shown any hesitation in doing this. In fairness, there’s still a voice in the back of your head that commands you to stop.

You don’t listen to it.

“Did your dad put any CCTVs in the house?” you ask breathily. If you’re going to do something wrong, you should at least try to hide it.

“He’s old as shit. Of course he didn’t,” says Nana, giggling. “If you eat my pussy right now he won’t know. Unless, of course, you want to get caught.”

“So you’re scared of climbing trees but not getting caught having sex?”

“Hey, I’m not scared of climbing trees anymore! Now shut up and eat me. Consider this… your lunch, since I had your McDonald’s.”

“By all means, Nayeon,” you say, pulling down the shorts that live up to their name and the flimsy set of pink panties.

“It’s Nana—ohhhh…”

Her correction gets lost and translated into moans. You’re sending quick, dainty licks on her clit. Enjoy the shivers Nana does. You know well to prey on that area after that, besides your experience with an old high school fling and sex ed. You also know to caress her thighs to send chills up her body, somehow even bringing heat to her core.

She’s too light to cause injury, but she almost, almost does when she squirms her hips harshly into your face. “Oppa!” she squeals. Her fingers are wrapped at the edge of the island as she lifts her lower body up for you to devour. “Th-that feels so good—fuck—”

“Thought you didn’t like to curse,” you say. Break the contact with her clit and let your finger take its place.

“And I thought you were a virgin.”

You don’t realize that your finger rubbing on her sensitive little nub takes the offense out on it. “The fuck?”

“Y-yeah, I know.” Nana hisses. She rolls her hips up and down. “I thought you’d be too scared to have sex with me. You know, besides the obvious reasons.”

“So you’re saying I should be the guy you thought I would be? And stop?”

“Don’t you fucking dare—”

Laugh. “Relax,” you tell her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll eat this delicious pussy of yours till you’re screaming, I promise.”

Nana laughs as well. She rests her calves on both of your shoulders and smiles. “Spoken like a true non-virgin.”

It helps that she’s so fucking delicious. You’d start having her as a rewarding meal after tough days rather than McDonald’s. She’s the perfect balance of sweetness and tanginess, filling your mouth like a rain of sugar. Wrapping your lips around her nub just brings out more wetness and moans that are just as sweet. Her sounds of pleasure are exactly what you’ve fantasized about them being: soft yet high, clinging to pitched tones and increasing in volume when you slurp on her nub.

Her sounds are so much different from her sister’s. Heejin’s moans are deep and unearth even deeper feelings of lust for her. Nana’s drive you crazy in a different way. They urge you to keep eating her, to keep suckling harshly on her little clitoris so you’d have her stiff nipples poke the front of the cloth of her shirt, to keep doing away with her tiny hole so that she’s begging in that cute little voice of hers.

She’s more passive than Heejin, too. It took rough patches for you to finally be able to fuck her sister into temporary submission. For Nana, it only takes a few licks here and there, and she’s already shaking. Still, you can’t choose between them.

Why choose anyway when you can have them both?

Nana, of course, is good enough for now. Though she’s got you in a padlock between her thighs and forcing you to keep eating her, you give in happily. Your hands are curled around her thick soft thighs to maintain her sprawled position on the island. And dear god, are you taking advantage of it. The suction of your lips is almost cruel, and the poor girl has to alternate between loving it and being overwhelmed.

Run your hands along her delicious backside then squeeze the two round globes. She moans appreciatively, and she’s faced with another two decisions to choose from: to reverse herself into your hands so you could play with her ass more or to go forward to have your mouth absolutely devouring her. Both options are sure to provide her pleasure, but she can’t choose just one. So she moves her hips forward and backward, grinding on the tip of your tongue and your rough palms. It feels so much better this way for her. She’s finally found a good routine.

“Oppa, oppa, Jay oppa,” groans Nana. “Please, p-please.”

She doesn’t specify what she’s begging for. She doesn’t need to anyway when you know the answer. That’s why you run your tongue along her soaked labia, then let it peek into the hole they welcome you in. Delve your tongue inside her deeply. Her ass lifts off the surface and you have to pull her down to earth though she’s close to meeting heaven because of you. No, she’s staying here, under your control and touch. She isn’t going anywhere.

Not that Nana would rather be anywhere else. She’s content with having you orally please her. She likes the feeling of being sprawled out before and under you and letting you have your way with her. She was wrong to think you were a virgin; the wildest laps of an inexperienced mouth definitely won’t feel this good.

She should eat your lunch more times if this is how it would end.

“Your tongue, fuck,” she says, voice shattered, “ it feels so good—don’t stop, please, I can’t—”

You don’t plan on it. Nana’s too delicious, too sweet to stop eating of. She’s definitely miles better than what you were supposed to have for lunch. Although your head still swirls at the idea that you’re actually having sex with your crush, hesitation is a faint dream. Her moans, sweet and whiny, prod you on and tell you a story of a climax approaching.

Draw out the plotline by tracing a line from her slit to her pearl, repeat then, shove a plot twist in there by suddenly curling your tongue inside her. She provides the dialogue and ending line:

“Jay oppa, I’m cumming!”

Nana’s screams switch to squeals when you spank her bubble butt while continuing to eat her out. She reaches for your head and pulls it deeper between her thighs, while her other hand rests on her left nipple. The combined pleasure unexpectedly makes her leak of squirted girl cum. Of course, you waste no time in licking that up.

“T-too much, fuck, oh yes,” she gasps. Her breaths are burdened with each word. “Spank me, oppa, just like that!”

Everything you do drives her crazy. From your spanking and sucking, her hips never fail to lose control. They knock, sway, and dance while her pussy drips with more accumulated wetness and cum. Despite her satisfaction, it’s clear that you won’t be able to drink all of her juices when the mere act of doing it forms more.

“Oppa, oppa, stop.”

Pause and look up at her with a mouth smeared with juices. “What’s the problem?” you ask. You’d hate to have done something wrong to her.

“I think daddy and Heejin unnie are at the driveway.”

Shit. You immediately pull away from Nana’s cunt. She barely gets her shorts on right when Chan and Heejin come in. Pray that the kitchen smells of what it’s supposed to instead of sex. You can still catch the slight scent of gratification in the air.

“We’re home!” says Chan. He comes bearing gifts: supermall department store paper bags strung in a single wrist. You’re strangely more drawn to Heejin rather than the clothes that might be brought home; she counts as a gift, right?

She’s barely wrapped, though. A tube top designed as a blue handkerchief dangles around her bust. The shawl doesn’t exactly play the probable role of a ribbon when it’s thinner than one.

Oh well, easier to unwrap and break into pieces.

“Hi, Jay oppa,” says Heejin. Her smile is wide; she knows you’re flustered by her choice of fashion today. She looks at Nana with a comparably colder gaze. “Nana.”

Sibling rivalry, you assume? The tension is incapable of going unnoticed. You wonder what it’s for. There must have been history between them. You wouldn’t know, however; you’re an only child. Were.

“How was the…” you say, trying to break the thickness in the air but find that you don’t have the words to do it. Why do you even bother? Oh, right, they’re your sisters now—as a big brother, you have to try and help them make ends meet.

“Oh, the mall?” Chan says. He’s unknowingly rescued you from awkwardness. He throws you the bag. “Pretty good! I got you a shirt. Heekki bought some stuff, too.”

“You didn’t get me anything, daddy?” asks Nana disappointedly. The redness in her face is lucky to be passed off as the heat’s doing.

“Maybe if you didn’t spill that water on the floor I’d give you your present early.”

The youngest sister tilts her head, but when she turns around, she realizes what her father means. Just when you thought you’d left the coast clear, there’s one piece of evidence you failed to hide: Nana’s slick and cum. It drools from the edge of the island and on the ground. Even worse, your shirt is stained, too.

“I—uh, daddy—”

“What? Gonna cry, Nayeon?” Heejin asks. She flashes her sister a taunting grin.

What is going on between these two? Why is Heejin bullying her? Why is Nana looking angrier than she’s ever looked in her life? You truly don’t understand.

“It’s Nana,” the younger girl replies. Her shoulders are visibly tense.

Chan gives them a stern look. You know what that means: cut it out, or I’ll make you. You’ve learned to translate those looks from parents of unruly children at public places. “Girls,” he pacifies them. “Don’t want to start a fight in front of your new brother, do you?”

“She started it!” Nana says protestingly.

“And I’ll end it. Cut it out and clean your mess up.”

Heejin smiles sweetly yet artificially as her sister obeys what she’s told to do. Then, she drags you to the bedroom out of sight.

Cut to black.

“You’re a bad person, Jay oppa.”

Those are the first words Heejin told you after she pulled you into her room. Her kisses aren’t as passionate anymore when they’re more angry than lustful. Her lips mash on your neck, mouth, and chest, all while she unbuttons your shirt with quickness you’ve never seen in her.

Your shirt’s torn off you before it could even live on to be a hand-me-down. An angry Heejin, you find out, can do things like that. She isn’t all seductive and sweet when she’s furious. And right now, she’s burning on every end with wrath.

“I think that’s why you agreed to have sex with me,” she says. Pulls off your bottoms so she can sit her bottom on you. “Because you wanted some kind of fucked up stress relief. And then you see me, and you go ‘hey, I could fuck this girl and since she’s such a slut she wouldn’t mind.’ That’s what you thought, right? That I’m just another dumb slut bunny?”

None of that crossed in your mind. All you knew when you were reunited with Heejin was that you were very attracted to her. “Heejin, it isn’t like that. And you’re not a slut.”

“For you,” Heejin throws her shawl to the corner of the room, “I am.”

She said it, not you. Still won’t agree to it. But when Heejin’s riding you at this pace that you can’t keep up with, you might change your mind.

Her thighs ripple photogenically when they slap onto yours. Your face can’t say the same. From the moment the door was closed, she pounced on you. She takes the role of a hunter again. She has her hand on your chest and her ass perched on your crotch. It all starts and ends there.

“Oh, and you looove lording it over me, huh?” she asks. She’s yelling at you, angry at you about something you don’t even know yet, which is supposed to make you feel scared. You should be cowering and promise yourself to never ever underestimate her again. Instead, you feel…

Aroused?

Your cock is hard enough to push past her slick walls and bask in their embrace. You hear your own breaths partner up with Heejin’s.

“You know I like you and your dick so much,” she continues. Her bounces are strong. Days and nights spent at the gym keep her stamina strong. Is she a singer, too? Her voice hasn’t cracked once. Or maybe she’s just that angry. “That’s why you like making me jealous. You know I can’t control myself around you.”

“Heejin, it’s n-not like that.” Surprised that you manage to get those words out of your mouth. All that’s coming from it are moans.

“So what is it?”

“Wait, is this about Nana?”

She growls. Her pace quickens, and you’re off the edge again, your hands planted on the white mattress shaking and failing to keep you up. Her voice is like a trigger word that shuts all your systems down.

“See,” she says. She shuts her eyes and bites her lip. “You even, hahm, call her Nana, too.”

Give up on trying to remain stable. Place your hand instead on Heejin’s ass to help her meaningful grinding. “Everyone calls her that.”

“But you don’t even call me Heekki or anything. It’s not fair, you know. You and your fucking crush on that bitch.”

Well, she’s right. You do have a crush on Nana. She doesn’t have that wrong. The thing is—

“I’m sorry, Heekki.”

You’d tell her that as many times as she wants if that’s what makes her feel better. You still want more sessions like these with her, maybe less violent, in the future, even if your feelings for her sister are beyond mere lust.

Right, Nayeon. Nana. What do you do about your attraction to her? Could you like Heejin and her at the same time? It isn’t fair to both parties, including you. You can’t just lead them on. You’re not supposed to, to be more precise; they’re your sisters. But of course, you break that taboo and are fucking the eldest sister to her guts in her bed after having just eaten her sibling’s pussy. You wouldn’t choose one over the other.

“Hnnn, yes.” Heejin minces her words in heavy, dark tones that sound a lot more desperate than the real her. It really is your fault. You’re making her this way. “Call me that again, Jay oppa. Please? I’m, I’m your Heekki, right? Your only bunny girl?”

Little white lies, little white lies. “Yes, Heekki,” you reply. “Now hop on daddy’s cock like a good little bunny.”

“Yes, of course I will, daddy!” She’s nearly sobbing when she resumes her riding. The flexes of her thighs help her lifting and resting on your crotch. She gasps because of your hands sneaking under her handkerchief top and squeezing her ample breasts. “D-daddy, please, Heekki loves your cock, please fuck me harder!”

Jerk upwards. Heejin’s perfect pussy is a real-life fleshlight. She could be your toy anytime, one you’d bring and fuck anywhere. She’s too fitting for all the secret desires embedded in your heart. Who wouldn’t want a slutty little bunny girl toy like Heejin, with an unexpectedly sexy deep voice and a fit body?

You’re all too focused on her tiny cunt. Her hole is just made to be bred. You have to remind yourself you can’t do it. It’s hard to resist when her cunt is virginally tight and the flesh of her ass is enticing to play with. Even her groans tempt you, all those little whines and pleas shoot right at your heart (and dick.) You want to fuck her like nothing’s wrong, like she isn’t your sister and you’re not supposed to be doing this.

“Daddy, daddy, oh, daddy—” Heejin gasps.

Swipe at her clit and she screams. Shut her up with the finger you used to rub her nub, sliding it into her unprepared yet otherwise welcoming mouth. “Shut up, slut. That’s what you are, right, Heejin? Daddy’s slutty bunny girl?”

Self-contradicting or something. Oh, you don’t know.

Still with your fingers forcing her mouth open, she nods. “Mmm. Mhmm, daddy, your slut bunny, yes—”

Heejin isn’t angry anymore. Your cock turns out to be the solution to her problems, even jealousy. You’d hate to tell her that her envy is rational.

How would you tell her?

She sucks on your fingers, eyes glowing with tears of need. “Cumming’n you, now, daddy,” she breathes. “I want to be daddy’s only bunny girl, t-the one who gets to cum around his big cock everyday, please. I’m not mad, Heekki’s not mad anymore, I promise.”

Kiss her, and for a moment you forget about your own trials, too. The world gives its toughest times (resisting the urge to fuck your new sisters dumb) to its strongest soldiers (you).

You have more secrets about yourself and what you’ve done than you can count on ten fingers. Not even a sworn oath could drag them from your lips. Torture like waterboarding or a knife to your throat would be useless. Your lips are sealed at all times. No exceptions.

That’s why you’re able to fuck both Nana and Heejin without them knowing about it. It’s been months and it’s still going on. You can’t believe it reached this point.

You enjoy the differences between the two girls whenever you fuck them. They don’t think that you’re fucking the other either. The angry sex you had with Heejin *reduced her worries about your possible (and very real) attraction to Nana by a lot.

*(Citation, if required:

The girl was on your thigh, a night when Nana and Chan were out. You and Heejin made up an excuse: we’re too tired. It’s a school night. Some shit. The point is that the two of you threaded the circumstances and made it line up to you being alone. No distractions.

Heejin still calls you daddy, and that time was no exception. She was naked from the waist down. Her upper body being clothed in a tight baby tee didn’t make it less sexy. Seeing how the piece of clothing wrapped around her lithe form turned you on already. To add to that, she was riding your thigh, hand on your length. You made the small living room your heaven.

“Fuck,” Heejin whimpered. She chewed on her bottom lips as she rode your thigh, making use of your bounces and your hands on her hips. “Daddy, how’s it that you’re so good even when your dick isn’t inside me?”

You were flattered. Therefore, (and it was the only right thing to do in response to that), you bounced her harder. Let her grind down on your knee and stimulate her clit on the curved edge. She’s a good girl. No past tense for that one. Heejin is always your good girl, and you’re her daddy who spoils her too much. No past tense for that one either. You truly do spoil her too much—you let her drag you in the bathroom when you’re shopping just so she could drop to her knees to suck you off. You buy her expensive brands though you’re sure she makes more money than you. You do too much for her.

Her payment is better than anything you give her. She’s a good little girl who bounces on daddy’s lap and has his cum as milk before bed. Remembering that, you lifted the baby tee up to kiss her nipples. You let a slight chew ride the edges of the brown little area, then sucked hard. It gave you the reaction you wanted, the reaction you craved: Heejin cumming on your thighs.

Her grip on your cock was too tight and she never stopped jerking you off. You came on each other, bathing skin with love and lust. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Nana’s the more oblivious one. She knows she has you wrapped around her finger, too much in fact that she doesn’t entertain the idea of you liking Heejin, too. *She was eager but scared at first. Now, she fucks you without doubt, without regret.

*(Another citation:

It was after a meaningful talk that she suddenly brought up that “you haven’t fucked me yet, Jay oppa,” she said. Her natural pout made it easier for you to dive into the subject.

“Sure I have,” you replied. “What are you talking about?”

You thought back to the times you fingered her to squirt and put your mouth on her. Nana was always weak for that, and you assumed that was the only way she liked it. That was why you didn’t bother extending it past that.

“Yeah,” said Nana, looking at the night sky from the terrace, “but you haven’t, like, actually put your cock in me. I want to see it! I want it inside me!”

“Alright.” You sat up. “Sure.”

“Huh?” Her cheeks reddened. She didn’t expect that at all.

“What? Let’s do it.”

“I thought you’d be all hesitant or something,” Nana explained shyly. She looked everywhere except your piercing gaze. “I think that’s why I asked. Um… what am I even saying? I want your cock, Jay oppa.”

“Come get it then.”

You loved seeing Nana so shy and bashful. It was so different from the playful arrogance she sets when she’s around you. She could be so cute sometimes.

All the time. You still haven’t gotten over what you felt for her. It’s been long since you were adopted by Chan, yet your crush on Nana’s been longer. You think that maybe she does have the same feelings. After all, why would she let you fuck her? But you keep telling yourself you’re making it more complicated than it should be. To keep on Nana’s good side, and out of your own fear, too, you need to fuck her. No sappy feelings mentioned, just the good ol’ rawdogging.

You’re happy about getting to fuck Nana. Still, it isn’t the same as getting to be her boyfriend.

You went on, nonetheless. The first time she sank down on your length, she let out the cutest sound you’d ever heard. Nana was adorable in every way. Her hands scrunched up to her face like a bunny’s would as she shyly let her pussy take in your size.

“You’re so big,” she said.

“Heard that a couple of times. What’s new?”

“Asshole.” Nana slapped your shoulder. “You sure I could do it?”

“More than. You’re almost there.”

You tried to act like you were no stranger to this and therefore didn’t care. It was difficult when Nana’s pussy was so closed around your girth that you had to guide her downwards. Her thighs twitched and her moans were higher than they usually were. When you went down on her with your tongue, she always screamed, or when you fingered her under the blanket while watching a movie. This sound from her, a whiny gasp tangled in between a shout and a cry, was new.

You wanted to become more acquainted with it, for which you started to thrust.

“Fffuck,” she whispered with a wince. Why was the pain good? It wasn’t supposed to work like that. “Jay oppa, that feels really good.”

“Doesn’t hurt anymore?”

“Just a little. Just keep, fffucking. Me. And I’ll be okay.”

You couldn’t help it. You dove in for a kiss. You held her face in your hands as you pumped away inside her. This time, you made sure to be careful. It was the first time you had ever penetrated her.

It was the one of many times, though, that you made her cum.)

“Jay.”

Deja vu hits you. Or maybe you’ve been substituting grief with it. It’s been almost a year and everything still reminds you of your parents. Jay isn’t exempted from that. You zoned out on him, just like you did to your mother and father.

It’s your duty to look at him and pay attention. He’s done so much for you already. It’s the least you could do. It’s what you would have done if you’d known that fateful day that your parents would die. “Yeah?”

Chan smiles. “Are you alright?” he asks you. He pushes the tinfoiled chocolates towards you. Dessert is an everyday thing in his house. “We lost you there a little.”

Unwrap one and pop in your mouth. “I’m fine, thanks. What were we talking about?”

“I was saying I got a promotion.”

You smile. Good things happen to good people. “Congrats, hyung!”

“Thanks, Jay! But…” Hesitantly, he continues, “because of that, I’m going on a business trip. I’ll be gone for two days.”

Heejin’s eyes widen theatrically. “Oh no,” she says in faux disappointment, “oh no, daddy.”

It sounds like she’s addressing you rather than her own real father. More context clues: she’s inched closer to you and has a hand on your thigh. She gives it a nice squeeze, causing you to straighten suddenly. This is the riskiest Heejin has gotten.

Steal a glance at Nana, who sits at the opposite side of the dinner table. She’s staring at the two of you with fire in her eyes. While she’s too cute to be menacing, she still sends a clear message: get Heejin off you now. She can’t bear with her sister being all touchy-feely with you, or having you alone with her. If she didn’t want to save face, she’d have pounced on the table to tear Heejin’s hair out.

And she’s got such a pretty, pretty face to save, doesn’t she?

“D’you think you kids could behave while I’m gone?” Chan asks. He scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, you’re all of age, and it’s technically legal, but if you want me to stay—”

“Oh, daddy, it’s fine!” says Heejin. She looks at you sweetly and raises your joined hands. “Jay oppa and I are good friends! We’ll keep the house clean!”

“What about you, Nana? What do you think?”

Nana’s glowering stare at you and her older sister is prolonged and envious. She truly can’t look intimidating with such an adorable face, but you feel her anger. It’s telepathic how she could sit there in silence and still tell you wordlessly that she’s angry. Furious is probably a better term; you can see flames rise from her eyes.

She swallows and composes herself the best she could. “I’ll be fine,” she says quietly.

Chan asks his daughter if she’s sure, and asks the older girl the same as well. He doesn’t leave you out either. He wants to balance a family and work life properly. Both should hold the same weight on the two pedestals.

That’s how you end up with him gone for two days, and during the first few minutes of his departure, you and Heejin are kissing each other. Nothing more than that is what you promise. Chastity isn’t the best virtue to go by in terms of happiness, but you attempt with what you could to keep it pure.

This is where you understand the self-contradiction, for Heejin’s stark naked from the waist and up. You can feel every bit of unclothed flesh beneath your palms. You can be the expeditioner, Heejin could be the map. You’d spread her, map out each bit of pale milky skin in the connection of your two bodies’ threshold. You’d tear her and use her to the point of impurity.

But as you said: chastity.

It’s not like Heejin’s a saint herself. The skimpy booty shorts grind down on your lap as you kiss in her bedroom. Play with her nipples you will, then also take the time to appreciate her soft thighs.

“These thighs are fucking amazing, Heekki,” you say. The nickname’s a familiar aftertaste in your mouth now. A delicious one.

“You want to fuck them, oppa… daddy? What should I call you?”

A hand on the nape of her neck, you lay Heejin down on her bed. “I don’t care. Whichever, just make sure you let me fuck these legs.”

“Oppa it is.” Heejin grins cheekily. She spreads her arms just as much as she tightens her legs together, letting you appreciate the smoothness of her pits and her slim, beautiful arms. Not to disregard the muscles denting the skin, though. “Isn’t it so sexy? I’m fucking my big brother, and my little sister can barge in anytime. It’s so risky, right, Jay oppa?”

Slip your cock between her pressed flesh, and you easily discover that her thighs are as good as they look. Slide in, slide out, and repeat the cycle like a habit of vice. You’d never want to recover. Something could speak to you in the back of your head, urging you to let go of what’s wrong, and you wouldn’t listen. Even if that something was, let’s say, Nana?

Speaking of…

“What’s wrong, Jay oppa?” said girl’s older sister asks, curious about your sudden alarmed look.

You’d say a lot of things to her, now that you have the chance to. Only one comes to mind: “I, I think there’s someone at the—”

“I fucking knew it.”

That’s how it all starts. It begins with the scene that goes like this: Nana stands at the doorway with shock veining red in her eyes. Her hand is firm on the door knob; looks like someone forgot to lock before they fuck. That someone may be you or Heejin. You never know. It’s too late, anyway. Nana already knows.

You’d adlib a lot of things in this situation, too. However, none of them sound plausible. You can’t speak when you feel this odd sense of guilt brimming in the core of your heart. Seeing Nana’s horrified expression, you realize that it’s rooted from you thinking you’ve betrayed her. There’s her, obviously being your childhood crush and the girl you’ve fucked weeks on end, and then there’s you, fucking her sister in the bedroom where she’s supposed to flee for sisterly advice and familial gossip. It’s so incredibly wrong, all of it: your girth being locked between Heejin’s thighs, her obviously enjoying the way the underside of your cock rubs her preyed pussy, and Nana, the other girl you’ve been fucking. The other sister you’re fucking.

“You lying bitch,” spits Nana, glaring at Heejin. Such a word should never escape her mouth when she looks that pure and sweet, but she isn’t what she looks like, sexually speaking. Emotionally speaking. “I’m gonna tell dad, and you’re so fucking screwed.”

“Then I’ll tell him you fucked me, too,” you fire back. Venom laces your words.

Heejin looks at you in horror. “What?”

Oh no.

Oh god.

You definitely should have thought before you spoke. Now, the cat’s out of the bag. The taboo secret you’ve tried to hide for so long from both siblings is out in the open. You can’t lie or fuck your way out of this anymore. It’s not going to work.

Nana catches on a loose thread in her sister. She tugs it to sew back her own pride. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says haughtily, “he fucked me, too. What, you thought you were special or something?”

“Hey.” She’s really going in for the kill. You have to put a stop to it before it escalates: “Let’s all just calm down—”

Heejin turns to you and laughs after a short, bitter little scoff. “No fucking way, Jay.” She drops her legs and kicks you away. Tumble into the bedroom cabinet. “You tricked us.”

She’s right. You’ll admit that because you can’t even deny it yourself. It’s true through and through; you hid two secrets from three people: your sisters and new father. But secrets always come to light, and today just so happens to be the day for your dirty little secrets.

“Yeah,” pipes up Nana. “You wanted to use two girls as your personal cumdumps you could just throw away. You don’t—”

She stops. The older girl is awfully silent and suspicious, though you are for other reasons as well.

“Oh.” She stares at Heejin for a moment, then laughs. The palm she’s placed on her mouth is only there for dramatic effect; she doesn’t bother stifling her smug laughs. “Oh. I see it now.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

Nana walks over with surprising confidence in her steps and wraps her hand around your cock. That’s the last thing you expected her to do. Your moans are a little rougher this time because of that. Nana doesn’t bother stopping to reconsider what she’s doing: jerking off her new brother in front of her sister who shares her own blood and flesh.

She pouts so pitiably that it could be a genuine emotion if she pleases. “You don’t let him cum inside you, do you, my sweet unnie?” she asks. “That’s right. I know you don’t.”

Heejin’s eyes go all bunny wide. The irony of it all could be entertaining enough for your average telenovela enjoyer. It helps that she plays her role of the shocked and offended domineering sister so well.

But this isn’t a telenovela; this is real life. You’re actually going through this. You can’t turn it off in spite of your desire to. When there’s the yearning inside you to see what more there is to unfold, though, you give in. You don’t say a word to stop the sisterly quarrel. You simply stand there prone to Nana, who jerks you off with an unrestrained anger.

Heejin, who’s used to playing the cruel girl to her sister, finds herself in a position she’s never had to experience: getting the short end of the stick. Getting pierced by the end of the stick. Was her sister’s all-too-true accusation the forbidden apple to the shame she feels out of nowhere for her naked body?

She stutters. You’ve only heard her stutter when you’re fucking her. It’s so strange to hear how she clumsily stumbles over her words in real life where she’s got no escape. “Okay,” she says, giving up, “so I don’t let him cum inside me. So what? It’s not my fault I’m not a slut like you.”

“Oh please,” scoffs Nana. Waving off her sister’s insult is also a first for her. “Tell me something I haven’t heard before. At least I get to feel his warm, thick cum inside me. You’re too scared to even let him fuck you in a position that isn’t missionary.”

“Girls,” you say, in one last futile attempt to calm them down. Do you even want to calm them down? You’re not sure.

Nana pulls you away from her sibling and smiles with such untainted sweetness that it makes you forget she was mad in the first place. Well, she’s still a little mad for what she says next:

“Come on, oppa.

“Let me do something for you that she can’t.”

Her shirt becomes a figment of your imagination. You swear it was on a few seconds ago. But now, you see how it is: no bra. Not even a white camisole. Her perky breasts are there for you to toy with. You have multiple choices, actually: her soft tummy and wide hips are there, craving for your attention. Of course you give it to them, in the form of lingering hungry touches.

Your lips are on hers all of a sudden. It doesn't even take minutes for you to have your mouths and tongues all over each other, licking where you can and kissing till the lust ferments. (Hint: it would never.) There’s an imaginary time limit going on for you and Nana, and so you’re tearing clothes off each other and stealing kisses as fast and as needily as you can.

It doesn’t take the whole time limit for Heejin to get jealous. “Get off him,” she growls. She kisses your back, the touch sending shivers on your skin. Her nipples push on you. “You like me better, don’t you, daddy? I’m your Heekki, right?”

You don’t know. As of now, you like the other bunny girl better. “We’ll see.”

“‘Daddy’?” Nana giggles. “That all you got, Heejin?”

“Where’s the ‘unnie’?”

“You’re not the unnie unless you prove yourself to be one,” the youngest of the three of you answers in a sickeningly flattering tone. She brushes Heejin’s cheek. “So what’s it gonna be?”

Heejin stammers again. The smarmy and arrogant her is lost in the jealousy she gathers because of Nana pushing you down the bed. When she sees how you react to it with your needy face and hands on her waist, the anger burns inside her harder.

Still, it surely can’t be the flame of fury that’s making her this hot and bothered, can it?

Nana backs off to present her ass to you. She circles her hips in the air, giving you a show, then places a hand on both of her cheeks. The denim shorts barely cover up the swells of her ass. “Take this off me, please, oppa?” she asks. And it’s so polite that it isn’t really your fault that you give in and tug the messily cut thing she calls shorts down.

“Daddy!” Heejin says in protest. She’s naked as well, but she’s still left out.

“I think I should be the one calling him daddy here,” gloats Nana. She rubs her ass on your cock. It perfectly pleasures the underside of your length. “After all, he’s the one who’s going to put a baby in me. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”

Her panties slide down her legs. And now, she descends.

Down she goes, but she’s only going higher. Your cock splits her pussy open, and it’s just as good as the first time. Nana still brings the same thrill you get when you fuck her hot body. Her bounces are more precise, and she learns to give you more than just the benefit of getting to screw her—she gifts you a show of her bountiful backside unintentionally clapping with the other cheek.

Spank her for that, though you should really reward rather than punish her when she’s only making you feel good. Doesn’t matter; she loves it. She looks back at you and bites her lip sultrily.

“Fuck,” you groan, “such a good girl, Nana.”

Her moans are perfected with pitch and pleas. Nana’s expressions are timed well with your thrusts and guiding hands on her hips.

“I’m a good girl, too, daddy,” Heejin says softly. She kisses your mouth. “I’ll show you, okay?”

Chan’s eldest daughter climbs on top of your face. You pull off her shorts as well—you welcome all kinds of pleasure here. Nana slams herself down harder, and right on the second you groan due to it, Heejin’s already planted her pussy on your face.

See, these are the thighs you’ve dreamed of. These are the kind that would actually crush your head. Her muscular skin ensures that your head is subjected not only to thick softness. And yes, you’ve eaten Heejin out before, in times when you’d keep her prone on the edge of her bed while you pull orgasm after orgasm out of her with just your tongue, but this time you do it with increased gusto. The sisters’ blended moans sound better than any choir of your choosing. Name a band as well, while you’re at it, and Heejin and Nana’s voices would still outdo their songs.

“Yesss, thank you, daddy!” gasps Heejin. “Oh, mmm, I’m your good little girl. And because you’re my daddy, you should always eat your good girl out.”

“You talk like an attached trophy wife,” Nana remarks with a snortle. That’s not fair on her part; you know how desperate she can get when you’re fucking her, but you can’t really oppose it when Hejein’s muffling your mouth.

The other girl can’t retort either. Your tongue’s too good to her. “Shut up. He likes my pussy more. And he treats it sooo well, don’t you, my daddy? Better than you do Nana?”

Let’s see: well, you don’t know. Both sisters have amazing bodies you’d do any time of the day. You haven’t really given the intensity you submit to them much thought. It’s hard to think now when Heejin’s urgently riding your tongue while Nana rides your cock.

“No answer,” Nana says triumphantly. “I guess he’s biased there.”

“Hmph.”

“The better girl for oppa is the one who doesn’t immediately cum just because he’s touching them. Bet?”

“It’s a bet,” replies Heejin. She really shouldn’t be giving in to a deal she’s sure to lose; you know what the quintessential quiver of her hips mean. Then again, she’s not one to back down from a competition.

It’s kind of entertaining to see the differences between the two girls. It counts back then as well. It’s like they switched personalities with how the other fits the former just as well. Nana’s not afraid to use you. She rides you at a lightning-impulsed pace, rocking your cock with a tightness you’ll never forget. Her cries are wrapped with weak gasps. On the other hand, there’s Heejin, who’s still used to being the submissive little girl to you when it’s nothing close to her real cocky attitude out of the bedroom, who’s still afraid to use you. Oh, don’t forget her moans—their depth and groany tinge make your cock throb. Too bad it’s inside Nana.

(It’s actually not that bad at all; the pulsing and twitching cause Nana to shake deliciously. Her slow, meaningful grinds bring you to life.)

Hence, you’re fucking Heejin with your tongue faster, with no care for the juices that slide down your chin and the sides of your mouth. Her clit bumps your nose. It’s an advantage you take—you push and pull her back and forth to get her shivering whenever her precious pearl hits the tip of your nose.

Nana isn’t left out of the equation either. Push your lower body upwards so that your tip meets the end of her pussy. Shimmy them so that it rubs her walls. She gasps girlishly and soon finds out that she isn’t made for the fight she started with her sister. She’s chosen to fight the wrong battle.

“I’m close,” she whimpers. Her eyes are sealed shut. “You’re too good, oppa.”

“M-me too!” Heejin says. Her voice is on the brink of a yell. Sloppily suck her clit and she’s past that. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, keep licking me like that, oh!”

“Shit… Jay oppa!”

You’re soaked on both ends. Try to clean up Heejin’s stream of cum the best you could and pump Nana’s slick out of her. In the midst of everything, you don’t stop. You want to keep hearing the girls’ beautiful cries of pleasure.

“God, enough, daddy,” begs the shaking Heejin. She’s slapping her own breasts, lip bloodied under her teeth. “I want to cum on your cock, too.”

A better premise. “Sure.”

“Wait.” Nana stops the two of you. “Who came first?”

Heejin turns away with pink cheeks.

Nana’s known her all her life, so she reads that look better than anyone else could. “Of course you did.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t deserve to sit on his cock.”

“I do…” Her eyes are glossy. Her desperation really doesn’t go away with shame. If she were to be honest, it’s the shaming that deepens it. “But please, daddy, please—”

“Fine. Let’s ask oppa what he wants us to do. We’ll see who’s the better girl for him”

You can’t recognize Nana anymore. You know how big of a sub she can get, yet you didn’t realize how rough she can be as a dominant party in the bedroom. With how she orders around her sister and you, you’d think it’s a usual thing for her. Maybe it is.

“Nana-ya,” Heejin says, trying to bring the tone she lorded over her little sister with back. It ends up weak—it’s to no avail.

“Do it,” Nana tells her with a pitch of finality. “Ask him.”

“Fuck,” the other bunny girl says nervously. She swallows, then turns to you. You’re just as on the edge as she is. “Daddy, what do you want us to do?”

You have plenty of situations you could make them turn into reality. Some even cross the line. There are already plenty of boundaries you’ve soared past. You just have to choose one out of the many fantasies you have because now that you’re looking back at the chaos of it all, you wanted this to happen. You wanted them to find out. There’s a fucked up voice inside you that insists on becoming riskier, becoming more careless. It’s supposed to be blocked out.

Still and all, there’s Heejin and Nana beside you on the bed, with their shared pouty lips and eyes glistening with want. Said distinct, glossy features give you an idea.

“Suck my cock,” you say finally. In other settings that would have been a grave insult to the average middle school outcast. For Heejin and Nana, it’s the word of a deity himself.

Both girls don’t waste precious time on questioning if two sisters sucking their new adopted brother’s cock is morally right or not. What matters above all is that their lips decorate your length. It’s like they’re determined to give it a bath. It’s the only way you know how to explain it when Heejin’s round, doll-like eyes stare in awe at her sister running her lips up and down the sideless shape of your cock and your sensitive slit. Shiver on the occasion she licks there. Nana knows how to take cock as much as she’s learned into the art of fucking your face. It goes both ways here, you see. You wouldn’t have thought she was the one who was just recently a virgin.

Heejin leaves the tougher things to the expert. While she’s the one who first sucked your cock between the two of them, it’s clear that Nana’s better at this. She can hear your ragged moans. She remains determined to please you. She kisses your heavy balls, sucking on the prickled skin on each and licking at them lovingly.

“Fuck… Heekki…”

That’s a sign for Nana to up her game. She glares at you, and it’s everything but subtle. She throws out all the anger she’s held in her heart after the PDA you put on with Heejin recently onto sucking your cock. Her throat is tight and her mouth is warm as your cock enters and exits, stabbing through the breaths for air that never quite make it to her lungs. She doesn’t mind losing air. She does, actually, but she’s quite more focused on getting your attention back on her.

Heejin doesn’t let up on the competition. Like you said, she isn’t the type of girl to back down from a challenge. Whatever she competes at she’ll give it her all. She might have lost and came earlier than expected just a few minutes ago, sure, but she’s a competitive girl. She always wants to be on top. Or if not, underneath you.

That’s why her lips alternate between your testicles. Bite your lip to suppress yourself from tugging her hair. It doesn’t work; your hand ends up sifted in her hair and tugging so that her nose pressed on your pubic patch. From there she has to take in your musky scent and have the precum from your tip drip down the side of her face.

“We’re being good girls, Heejin,” Nana says after pulling away from your cock.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” the older one of them admits. She licks the underside of your base teasingly, sending a gasp and a sudden shot of cum out of you. “What d’you think, daddy?”

They seem to not have noticed that you orgasmed a bit. They keep lapping and kissing your cock like nothing could compare to it. No piece of arcade candy or slice of cake could match the taste of your cock. They feast on it, the little devils they are—Heejin decides to take a turn at swallowing your cock whole and succeeds while Nana kisses your thighs. You’re sensitive all over, and they have no signs of stopping. They’ll keep suckling and licking all day if you don’t conquer control again.

Therefore: get up like your latest orgasm didn’t occur.

“On your stomach. On the bed. Now.”

Soon they’re scrambling to follow your orders. Aren’t they always? Their butts are in front of you side by side. They say sisters have a lot in common—for this situation, it’s the wetness rolling droplets down their luscious thighs and the two replicas of the same, passive look as they turn their heads to you. They’re waiting for your next command.

You don’t give any. It’s all on you now.

Push yourself inside Heejin’s slick pussy. Perhaps she deserves to be fucked, like she says. So don’t bother to extract lengthy inches and just fire short, driven thrusts. Spank Nana to keep her occupied. Her moans are as sweet as her sister’s, much more when you finger her.

Tandem and might. They’re foreign concepts to you since you weren’t a sporty kind of kid. You still find yourself taking all those out on the two girls. You position yourself so that you’re able to pump fast into Heejin while keeping the deep thrusts going while curling your fingers into Nana’s weak spots.

“That’s not fair, Jay oppa,” she tells you, face buried into the sheets. It’s lucky that you even get to make out a fraction of her words. “I was the one being good.”

“Maybe he just likes me more,” quips Heejin wittily. It’s a lost sound when you punish her with a pronounced pump. Little do you know that she’d find it hot. “Fuck yes, you’re amazing, daddy.”

She gives up on trying to keep her head raised. She drops it and groans with the bed muffling the way of her voice. Who could have ever found out that the tuck of her bottom lip under her teeth, an action so simple, could fruit such lust inside you?

“Of course you’re being good, Nana. Only good girls get bred.”

They don’t get what you mean until you pull out of Heejin and slip into the sister you mentioned. Nana’s back curves beautifully and she sighs as she’s filled to the point of overflow with your hot and sticky cum. You slap her ass hard, leaving a red trace of your hand on her cheek. She grinds seductively into your cock burying itself to the depths of her pussy.

“Noooo,” sobs Heejin, green with envy. “Please, gah, just let me have your cum. I promise I’ll let you cum inside me all the time. Can do it even with my dad watching, or Nana, just please—”

“Desperate little slut. Will you let my naughty big sister have what she wants, oppa?”

In one way or another, Heejin always gets what she wants. She could be the one underneath you, sure, and she’d remain the benefactor.

Such is the beauty of having her cum beautifully and instantly on your fingers after you finger out some cum from Nana’s pussy into hers.

Chan never does find out what the white on Heejin’s bed is from. Is it from a girl’s problem that isn’t too known? He doesn’t know. It might be glue. Whatever. He’s not that well-versed into feminine problems, so he simply assumes those are the source of them.

He also doesn’t know why the sisters suddenly don’t fight anymore. It’s a well-kept secret that you’ve made a pact with them, told them that you could be theirs as long as they kiss you and don’t tell. It works well to keep the sisters in line, and it’s beneficial for Chan, too. He doesn’t have to pacify repeated arguments anymore.

So far the peace in your new home is maintained. The bedroom is exempted.

Obviously.

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dazed--xx · 2 years ago

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SKZ Break up Reaction II(Hyung Line)

Part 1

A/N: so I’m alive and writing again I hope this good im not gonna lie I’m really shit at writing fluff and this isn’t edited. Also I’m on full mobile uploading since my 4 year old decided to break my laptop but I do still want to write. The maknae line will be coming out soon I’m working on it and a couple other things atm so I hope you guys enjoy those. I’m going to be posting a preview shortly after this also I don’t ever really get much feedback or comments so please I love to hear you guy’s opinions tell me where I can be better but please like comment reblog and enjoy 😊

Chan:

You stared at your phone as tears flowed down your face. You weren’t sure what you should do, should you call him? You desperately wanted to hear his voice but could you handle the heartbreak and broken promises all over again? You love him, you missed him but being forgotten about for almost two months has you hesitantly hover over the answer button. It’s been two weeks and the calls and messages have been nonstop. You weren’t sure if you could face him, to see the look in his eyes you knew you’d absolutely crumble, so you watch as the call goes to your Home Screen and a missed call notification pops up followed by a voicemail. With a heavy sigh you click on the notification your hands are shaky as you press the play button “H-hey” he begins with a sigh “I-it’s been a-a….while now a-and I just want to know….how your doing. I know things weren’t….what you expected b-but I just want you to know that I love you a-and I want you to come home. I miss you so much. I know I should have been here I know I messed up so bad but I love you so much and I can only hope that I didn’t ruin things to the point where I can’t say that you love me too. If you still need time…I-I get that b-but ple-please just let me know you’re okay….come home soon…..please” your sobs grow louder shaking your body completely as you hear the pain in his voice.

You look around the small hotel room you had gotten for yourself, the hoodie you had stolen from Chan has adorned your torso since the night you left. With a final resolution you lift yourself from the bed, hurriedly grabbing your things as you shove them into your suitcase making sure everything is with you. You were anxious as you loaded your bag into your car. Your stomach was sinking as you pulled onto Chans street. You felt nauseous as you stood infront of the door, your hand hovering about to knock. Taking a deep breath you gently tap on the door, you felt like a kid coming home after running away at 6 years old. You felt small and confused yet the only thing you seemed to want, though you’ve been avoiding it, is to see him. You weren’t sure what to expect as you waited, you grew frustrated as you knocked once more a little harsher. The door being whipped open makes you jump in nervousness “Yah! I’m Fi—Y/N…” you stare at his wide tired eyes, his mouth hangs open as tears build in his orbs. Your pulled into his frame quickly as he wraps his arms around you quickly. “Y-you….” He cries “you came back” you hear the sigh of relief he releases as he buries his face in your neck. Your arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Yeah….I missed you so much I’m sorry” you apologize regret filling your tone. He shakes his head “No. I’m sorry fuck I’m so sorry please don’t leave again” he begs as his grip on you grows tighter. “I won’t I love you…. It’s you and me okay?” You promise as he lifts his head to look at you. He nods in response pressing his plush lips against yours.

Minho:

Minho paced back and forth for what felt like hours as he called you over and over again. His hands were shaky as he pressed the call button once more only for his heart to shatter once again at the sound of your voicemail. He didn’t know what to do it’s only been a couple hours but he felt hopeless. How could he get you to speak to him? Why did he have to be such an asshole? What could he do to see you again? Where could you have gone? A lightbulb goes off in his head, opening the location app you had downloaded on his phone his heart soars as your picture is still on his map. You never turned your location off, he thanks god for your absent mind. Zooming in on the location he recognizes your parents street, grabbing his keys he rushes out the door and into his car. His teeth tugging at his bottom lip in nervousness. Would you talk to him? Would you come home? He felt like throwing up at the thought of you saying no. How could he have ruined things so badly? His leg was shaking as he pulled into your parents driveway. What would you say? Would you turn him away?

He wasn’t sure if he should call you again, should he knock? This has never happened before he didn’t know the protocol for pleading and crying like a baby to get the love of your life back. He knew there would be groveling, but would you close the door in his face? Tell him you never wanted to see him again? No….no you wouldn’t—you couldn’t. You had to know how sorry he is, he raises his hand to knock on the door as it is pulled open your father standing there a disappointed scowl on his face. “Little—uh late there aren’t you?” He retorts he smacks his hand on Minhos shoulder firmly “advice for next time…you don’t let her leave genius. Beg. On your knees if you have to. But you never let them go because once they’re gone it’s hard to get ‘‘em back.” Minho nods softly “I’m so—shhhhh” your father cuts him off with his finger to his lips “I’m not who you should be apologizing to. Honestly I told her to kick your ass then leave she went the nicer way” Minho’s scrunch in confusion “I-Okay” he nods as he enters. He notices your mother seated on the couch a sympathetic expression adorning her face as she gestures toward a room. He nods in response quickly making his way to the door knocking hesitantly. His hands are shaking as he looks back at your parents watching him encouragingly, your mothers hands gesturing for him to go in. A heavy sigh is released from his mouth as he opens the door. The first thing he can hear is your silent sobs as you lay in bed. “Mom please can you just give me a minute” you cry silently. “You see, I would but l…I’m not your mom a-and” tears begin flowing down his cheeks as he rushes over to face you. He drops to his knees infront of your laying down figure, his thumb wiping away your tears “a-and I-I want you to come h-home” his eyes connect with yours “please, come home i—“ he sighs heavily grabbing your hand caressing it gently placing it against his cheek “I can’t breathe without you near me, I love you. I love you so much. I couldn’t think—I need you only a few hours away from you breaks me. Seeing our home rid of you, us, breaks me pl-please I know I’m an idiot but I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry. I need you I don’t want you to leave me alone. Never leave me alone please I—“ his words get caught in his throat as he hiccups. “Min…” you slowly sit yourself up your eyes connecting with his.

Guilt and regret worn on his expression. You bite your bottom lip as you place your free hand on his cheek. “I love you too. But maybe we need space..” he shakes his head in denial “you just had a few hours away from me how much more space do you need? Please I want to be with you I don’t want space I-I want to wake up everyday with you in my bed. I want to see you smile and hear your laugh when the cats do something weird. I need you. I want you to be with me. Always. I want to marry you, I want to have kids with you, I’m sorry but I’m not leaving unless you’re coming with me” he begs. A small sad smile forms on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him in. His arms taking a hold of your waist. “We can figure things out okay? I love you” you whisper

Changbin:

“Stop. Sending. So. Much. Stuff. To . My. Place.” Your growl as you place the gifts Changbin had sent to your house for the past week with every word on Changbins desk. He stared at you wide eyed and surprised before a smug smirk forms on his lips. His tongue runs over his bottom lip “I’m not seeing the necklace I sent yesterday.” He states as his eyes run over your figure. Your face twists into a scowl at his smugness as you cross your arms over your chest “I’ll send it in the mail” you lie, knowing the necklace was hidden under your shirt. A small tsk is released from his lips as he leans back in his seat, his legs spreading slightly as he stretched. “I mean..” he trails as he lifts himself from his seat making his way over to you, his fingers softly brushing your hair behind your ear. Tingles are sent down your spine as his fingers trail their way down the side of your throat before lifting the gold chain and pulling the daliha pendant. “It’s right here why send it in the mail?” His voice is low and seductive, you feel your resolution breaking as he pressed his chest against yours. Your breath is shaky as you willed yourself to not look directly at him. You feel his nose brush against your cheek, you feel heat grow on your face. You were sure you were a bright scarlet. Your hands place themselves on his firm chest shoving him back nervously. His eyebrow scrunch together in confusion “Wouldn’t want to make anymore mistakes right?” The sarcasm oozing out in your words.

You notice the hurt on his features,he runs his hands through his hair before releasing a sigh “you aren’t and never were a mistake to me! I love you I want to be with you the only mistake I made was fighting with you, please just give me another chance. I know I was wrong for what I said but we’ve both been on edge recently and I just want to fix things. You’re my everything and I can’t believe I said so fucking stupid” his eyes connect with yours, you can see the sincerity in his eyes. “Bin…I-I don’t know” you state your bottom lip making its way between your teeth. “Wait don’t decide yet I know you don’t want it but I have one more thing I wanted to give you” he urges as he rushes toward his desk “I don’t want you to keep buying me things Bin, it’s not right and it’s not a way to get me back. If I was to get back together with you because you bought me things then I would fee disgusted with myself.” You plead to deaf ears. “Shh! Just see it before you just reject it” he argues before turning around hand behind his back. “I made mistakes when it came to you. Not that you or our relationship was a mistake but I should have tried harder for you. I shouldn’t have said the things I said that night and for that I’m sorry but, I have loved you for three years now. From your smile to the way you take care of your friends. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ll spend every moment of everyday trying to make up for what I said…” your heart sinks as he begins to lower himself down to one knee before grabbing your left hand his eyes connect with yours “will you marry me?” You stare at him mouth agape as he produces a velvet box from behind him. Your right hand placed itself over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes as you nod “yes!”

Hyunjin:

“Please, just talk to me!” Hyunjin begs as you casually stroll past him once again. Your heart rips out of your chest every time you were greeted by his tear stained, red eyed pout. Your bottom lip found it’s way between your teeth so you didn’t break your resolve. It’s been a month since you had broken up with him, and you spent every second since being bombarded by texts, calls, and unannounced visits from Hyunjin. You personally never told Hyunjin that you had overheard him saying those disgusting things about you, but you do know that Jeongin definitely did as his pleas changed from ‘what happened’ to ‘let me explain’. You personally didn’t care for an explanation nor did you want one. Your heart broke when you heard him say those things to Jeongin; you had a skewed idea of how your relationship was and Hyunjin opened your eyes with his words. You feel a hand wrap around your wrist, a bored sigh is released from your throat. “Please….Baby I-I’m sorry… I don’t know how to fix this, I-I just want to fix it I just want you to talk to me again.” His voice is horse, you notice his tongue brushing over his bottom lip before his teeth take his lip between them. A heavy sigh is released from his throat as he placed himself infront of you, hands wrapped around your arms. Your eyes connecting, you can see the longing and heartbreak in them.

Your breath grows heavy as you stare at your ex pulling yourself out of his grasp. “Please don’t touch me Hwang sunbae-nim, and it’s fine honestly, we didn’t work out.” You shrug, you feel your heart break as the look of utter horror grows on his angelic face.”s-sunbae-nim?” The words are barely above a whisper, pain laced in his tone. You nod softly “I think we wanted different things and you should be with someone that isn’t such a prude you know? Thank you for the apology but it isn’t necessary, you didn’t feel the same way as I did and that’s okay I just wish you would have told me instead of your members” you explain “no t-that’s not true! Please” his hands grasp yours desperately “why can’t you believe me? Look at me you know me! You know how I feel about you” tears streamed down his cheeks rapidly as he held your hands against his chest. You shake your head in denial “Hyunjin…pl-please let me go” your voice cracks. “I-I love you please believe me I didn’t want to break up I’m an idiot and I was frustrated and I just regret saying such stupid things I don’t need sex I don’t want you to leave me alone. I miss you—fuck—I miss you so much. I’m so fucking sorry I just want to be with you I just want my girl back please just give me another chance” he pleads, the despair evident in his tone. With a heavy sigh you shake your head “I just—sigh—you broke my heart and I just can’t jump back into this right away I’m sorry Hyunjin but no. I won’t be with someone who could think those things about me” you apologize as you continue making your way home.

#hyunjin angst #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #chan angst #stray kids reactions #hyunjin #skz reactions #SKZ Minho angst #changbin angst #hyunjin fluff #chan fluff #changbin fluff #stray kids Hyung line reaction #minho fluff #skz x reader

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 months ago

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Procedure Part 2

Part One | Masterlist | Next Part

Notes: Alright so it's gonna be three parts not two but that is IT

Also I'm posting from mobile so if the title looks janky, that's why

Length: 6.1K

Warnings: Light angst, tons of fluff, I know I said this chapter would have explicit content but I felt that I needed to shore up my narrative bridge I'm SORRY next one I promise

Summary: You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

“Is she still asleep?”

“Yeah, she’s out like a light.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben sighed. You could practically see him hunched over his desk, scrubbing his hand across his eyes.

The call to come and pick up Olivia had come at midnight. You’d only been in bed for half an hour, and you’d spent that half hour scrolling through your phone. Seeing Ben’s name pop up on your screen had been like a jumpscare, and you hadn’t hesitated to pick up.

He had sounded so disappointed and worn over the phone, half-grumbles and apologies of, “Late call,” and, “Only one on duty,” and, “I wouldn’t ask, but it’s an emergency.”

Your reassurances had fallen on deaf ears for the first round of explanations, but when you’d managed to break through to him, you’d told him that it was no problem, that you’d be over. You’d realized on the drive over that it wouldn’t be as simple as packing Olivia into the car and bringing her home. She was already asleep, and you knew from bitter, bitter experience that waking her up and shuffling her to another location would mean a sleepless night for the both of you.

Finding yourself alone in Borracho’s apartment was so strange. You’d been there dozens of times, sure, but it was usually for a couple of minutes at a time to pick Olivia up or drop her off. You were a little stunned at how neat it was, but at least he was keeping it clean for Olivia. Ben had always been so busy, and between his mess, your mess, and the baby’s mess when she was small, your home together had always felt so overcrowded with stuff in a way that was impossible to get a handle on.

You’d expected to have to neaten up, but there were just a handful of dishes in the sink and a basket of unfolded laundry.

“It’s okay, honestly,” You insisted, slouching back against the arm of his couch. “Worse comes to worse, Liv wakes up to seeing me here and we have a repeat of that time she thought she’d teleported in her sleep.”

Borracho’s chuckle made you smile. He had been in such a state when you’d arrived up, phone buzzing in his pocket and jacket in his hand as he’d rushed to get out the door.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” He added.

“All good.”

“Stay out of my fridge.”

“I can’t even have a snack?”

“You know what I mean. Don’t start expiration date hunting.”

“I feel like you saying that means that you know you have something in there that wouldn’t meet my standards.”

“Cabinet snacks only. I’m instating that rule.”

“I hear you, but with respect, I will at least grab a beer.”

“I’m gonna get back to it here.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“...Ben.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t stress. It’s one in the morning and I have nowhere to go.”

“Not for the streets?”

“Oh my—Hang up and go solve crime shit, Magalon.”

“Alright,” He laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Bye.”

You pulled the phone back from your ear, shaking your head as you looked around the living room. You could watch some tv, go back to scrolling on your phone…Or do Ben’s dishes and fold his laundry to later distract from the fact that you had definitely gone through his fridge for expired food.

You could not remember the last time you were awoken by another person in a way that wasn’t Olivia jumping on your bed, or poking you in the cheek and asking if she could watch Paw Patrol while she had her breakfast.

The feeling of a broad, warm hand smoothing over your arm made you stir, your brow furrowing as you twisted your head toward the touch.

“C’mon, up,” Borracho murmured. “You keep sleeping like this and you’re gonna have the worst crick in your neck.”

You pulled in a deep breath, rolling onto your back and yawning widely as you squinted against the lamp light.

“Hey,” You mumbled. “You just get in?”

“Couple minutes ago. Stuck my head in to see Liv, she’s still KO’d.”

“Mm, good. Everything okay with the—” You yawned again, “The case?”

“Good enough as it can be for now. Zapata was able to come in, take over.”

“Time is it?”

“Almost three.”

“Damn,” You mumbled.

“Sorry—”

“Dude, stop apologizing,” You nudged him lightly with your knee. “It’s your job.”

“I know, but…”

You tipped your head to the side, eyes narrowing slightly as you took in his frown. “What is it?”

“This was supposed to be your night off.”

You smiled a bit at his insistence before you pushed yourself up. “We’re parents, Ben. We don’t really get nights off. Nights away, maybe. It’s alright. It’s never gonna be perfect, but this isn’t bad. I promise.”

Borracho nodded, casting a sidelong glance and smiling softly.

“Good.”

“Good,” You parroted before reaching up and pinching his cheek. “Quit frowning.” You stretched, pushing yourself up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Whaddayou mean?” Borracho frowned. “You’re heading out? You have any idea what time it is?”

“Two minutes past when I asked you what time it was?”

“Just stay here. I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m not kicking you out of bed, Ben.”

“No, just grab one of my shirts and—”

“You have Olivia all day tomorrow. You need your sleep as much as I do—More, even.”

Borracho was quiet for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before he shrugged and stood.

“Alright.”

“Great. So—”

“We’ll share.”

“Goodnight—What?”

“Bed’s big enough,” He shrugged. “Go on, get ready. I’m gonna have some water and wind down—Be in in a bit.”

“...You sure?”

“I’m the reason you’re here. Let Liv be the reason you stay.” His eyes searched your face, and you fought to keep it neutral as your heart ticked up in your chest. “I will feel better knowing you’re safe and not driving right after you got up.”

“Yes, but think of how rested I—” You stopped, face pinching as you swallowed a yawn. Borracho gave a slow, unimpressed nod before tipping his head down the hall.

“Go on.”

You hesitated for a second before you took a step back, hands raised in surrender. “I know better than to argue with you when you’re in detective mode.”

You heard him huff a soft laugh as you turned, heading down the hall. You glanced back toward him, relieved to see that he’d turned away before you headed into his room. You closed the door behind yourself, flicked your light on, and for a few moments you just let yourself…Look, and smell.

The bed sheets were a set from the old place—dark grey, with mismatched grey and blue pillow cases. The scent of his deodorant and cologne, the mingle of yuzu and bergamot and wintergreen…You pushed off of the door, sighing. At least you’d done your skincare and everything at home, no need to worry about the fact that you had none of your stuff there. You rifled around in his dresser for an old shirt and a pair of his boxers, changing as hurriedly as possible on the off-chance he came in sooner than you expected.

You climbed into bed, drawing the sheets up around your chest and rolling onto your side. Was this your side of the bed? Had this been your side of the bed when the two of you were together? It must’ve been, right? Why else would you have picked it now?

You glanced back as you heard the door open slightly, offering a soft, “You’re good,” before he opened the door the rest of the way. You settled back down, resting your head on the pillow and listening to him shuffle around.

You remembered the feeling of this, but it seemed a world away now. He wasn’t slamming drawers shut, and you weren’t sighing loudly in the hope of speeding him along to get him to shut the light off. The bed dipping behind you made your stomach swoop, and you forced yourself to take a quiet, steadying breath as he shut the light off. You let your ears hone in on the hum of the AC, the odd shush of a passing car on the road.

“...You still awake?” Ben murmured.

“Yeah.”

“You did the dishes.”

“Mhm.”

“Folded my laundry, too.”

“Idle hands are the devil’s, you know. Blah blah blah.”

“Mm…You threw out my mustard, didn’t you.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I threw out.”

Waking up to an empty bed wasn’t anything new, and waking up in those sheets was a little unfamiliar—but opening your eyes and seeing a mahogany dresser and not your window was jarring. You drew in a deep breath as you steadied yourself, listening closely. It didn’t take long for you to catch on the soft clink of dishes down the hall, and the sound of Spongebob and your daughter’s giggling.

You pushed yourself up, taking up your phone and eyeing the time. Nearly 9—shit. Why hadn’t Ben woken you up? You swung your legs out of bed, pushing yourself up with a wide yawn. You could smell coffee, and for as much as you should just get dressed and run out, that was absolutely your first priority.

“There you are.”

You fought back an eye roll in favor of taking hold of the mug of coffee Ben held out to you.

“Saying ‘there are you are’ as the person who didn’t wake me up is incredibly bold of you,” You grumbled, slouching back against the counter.

“Mommy!”

“Good morning, bug,” You smiled, resting your hand on Olivia’s head as she barrelled into your side, nearly sending the coffee sloshing over the sides of the mug. “You sleep okay?”

“Uh-huh. But I had a dream aboudda bear.”

“A bear?” You gasped. “Was it really big and scary?”

“Yeah!”

“Did you get away?”

“Yeah!”

“Phew!” You sighed, pretending to swipe a bead of sweat away from your forehead. “Thank goodness.”

“Mom?"

“Yes, bug.”

“Did you sleep over here, too?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but found yourself stalling for one. “Uh…” You turned to look at Borracho, brow furrowing—only to see your expression mirrored.

“Livvy, why don’t you go get dressed,” He suggested, “We’ll get breakfast at the diner.”

“Can I get pancakes?”

“Of course.”

“With ice cream?” Olivia looked between the two of you with beseeching eyes, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. There was no other way to get her out of the room for the two of you to talk—not when ice cream was potentially on offer.

“One scoop,” Borracho conceded. Olivia screeched, zipping down the hall to her room.

“...Well, remember that you chose that sugar high,” You smiled.

“A sugar high that you backed us into.”

“Backed yourself into that one, pal, we could’ve thought of something else.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to be coming up with anything.”

“I haven’t had any coffee yet,” You muttered, finally raising the mug to your lips. Borracho smiled, walking a little closer.

“So, if she does ask again?”

“I came over to say good morning?”

“So we lie.”

“As if you’ve ever had a problem with that.”

It left you so immediately and so flippantly, and you felt Ben go tense beside you. You glanced toward him and found his expression closed off, eyes focused heavily on the tile of the kitchen floor.

“...I’m sorry,” You murmured, hands shifted around the mug. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No?”

“Nn-nn. I was teasing. Shitty joke.”

You saw Borracho nod slowly, and you took a deep draw of coffee, ignore the burning splash of it in your stomach.

“Okay,” You cleared your throat as you turned, setting the mug down. “I’m gonna put my pants on and head out.”

“Could stick around.”

“I already folded your clothes and did your dishes, that’s all the free labor you’re getting out of me today.”

“I meant to get breakfast.”

You took the sight of Ben in—the slight hunch of his shoulders as he leaned against the counter, the curl of his hands around the edges of the faux-marble, and speculative, almost warm gaze that he was giving you.

“But it’s,” You nodded over your shoulder, “It’s a you and Liv day. I don’t wanna take away from your time with her.”

“You won’t.”

“Ben.”

“You don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Ben reached out, swatting your hip. “Go get dressed—and use the mouthwash on the counter. Your breath stinks.”

“Shithead.”

“Swear jar.”

Breakfast should’ve been the end of it, but Olivia had insisted that she show you this really cool thing she learned how to do on the monkey bars (which turned out to be just…Knowing how to cross the monkey bars). You’d been ready to tell her that you ought to head home, but Ben had caught your eye, smiled, and given you a small nod. Maybe he really had felt bad for making you come over the night before—or maybe he just understood how badly Olivia wanted to show you her skill on the monkey bars. Whatever it was, the two of you had watched Olivia zip around the park as her sugar high kicked in, and spent nearly two hours at the park with her.

You glanced into the backseat now, smiling at her slow, hazy eyes as she peered through the window.

“I think someone’s gonna have a little rest when you get inside,” You murmured. Ben hummed as he pulled the car into a parking space behind yours.

“You got plans for the rest of the day?” He asked.

“Oh,” You sighed, stretching and squirming in your seat. “Just the usual stuff. Laundry, groceries…Got a couple of little maintenance things.”

“Anything you need help with?”

“No, I’ve got it.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, twisting in your seat to get a better look at Olivia. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay, hon?”

“Mmhm.”

“I love you.”

“Love you. Mwah.”

“Mwah,” You blew her an air kiss before you turned to Ben. “I’ll um—I’ll see you tomorrow, too.”

“Yeah.” For a moment, it looked like he was teeing up to say something else, but he just smiled and hit the door lock to let you out.

At the beginning of your separation from Borracho, when you first started dropping Olivia at his place for the weekend, you spent your time digging yourself out from under the disorder and mess. After that, you sorted out your furnishings, paired down the things in your bedroom, your kitchen. You learned to shop for two people instead of three. You clipped coupons when things were particularly tight. You got new sheets and gave Ben the old one. You repainted your bedroom. You had things to do.

And you still had things to do today, but you found that you couldn’t talk yourself into doing any of them.

Every time you started to do one task or another—halfway through loading the dishwasher, a quarter of the way through separating your laundry out, in the middle of checking the contents of your fridge for expiring or near-expired food, you wound up lost in thought.

Holding a mug just over the dishwasher. Eyeing one of Olivia’s ankle socks and one of your ankle socks as you failed to find either of their partners. Sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of the fridge and staring blankly at the drawers.

Sleeping with Ben had felt so…Good. The two of you hadn’t fucked, obviously, but you’d forgotten how nice it was to just be asleep with someone. You’d missed it a long time ago, sure—when you’d started sleeping alone, you used to build a wall of pillows up behind yourself, just to feel cradled. It hadn’t been the same, and after a while, you hadn’t really needed it anymore. But you’d roused a couple of times last night—not fully, just awake enough to note your surroundings and drop back off—but Ben had been holding you. His body had been pressed so firmly against yours, his rough cheek against your neck, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other stretched out under your head. Maybe it was his little shifts that had woken you up—the little flex and loosening of his fingers around your shirt, or his nuzzle and sigh as he likely dropped in and out of sleep himself.

How long had it been since he’d been asleep with someone? You’d heard about dates, but you hadn’t heard about girlfriends. Had he had any? Did he curl up with them like that? Did they do his dishes, fold his laundry? Go through his fridge?

Well, they at least hadn’t done that last one—if they had, you wouldn’t have found that mustard.

You shook yourself from the thought, leaning back from the fridge with a grumble of, “No. No.” You weren’t going to torture yourself thinking about one freak occurrance—Damn, your knees really were really that loud, no wonder Ben had heard them a couple of weeks ago.

You shut the fridge, reaching into your pocket for your phone. You hadn’t bothered with dating apps in so long, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. At best, it could push you out of this mental rut and get you back into a flirty mood. At worst, it could scare you off from dating again for god knows how long. It wasn’t as if Ben had ruined you for other men. And there were plenty of fish in the sea, weren’t there?

“Welcome to the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.”

Alyssa looked just a little too gleeful for your liking as she said so, swiping through your Hinge matches. You scoffed, turning to watch the kids attempt to field ground balls. They were all failing spectacularly, and adorably.

“It’s not that bad,” You grumbled. And it was true, it wasn’t that bad—it was so much worse. You’d been on the apps for precisely three weeks, and so far you’d had 10 conversations. Half of those had been dead-end ‘hi’s, three of them called you a MILF, and two had just opened with, feet pics?

You had held off telling anyone that you’d signed up for the apps, but you’d needed to commiserate with someone, and you knew that Alyssa had recently braved the exact same horrors.

“It’s not that good, though—6’4, so—”

“Probably 5’9.”

“You okay with that?”

“I mean,” You shrugged, “That’s Ben’s height, so whatever.”

“Mm…This one isn’t holding any fish…But I also can’t tell which one he is, it’s all group pictures.”

“Swipe left.”

“On it.”

“When’s the last time you went on a date-date? I mean not just, like, coffee or drinks, like something that felt substantial?”

“Pfft, shit girl, I don’t know,” Alyssa shook her head. “It’s been a while…Actually might’ve been Gus.”

Damn. Your last real date had been Ben. You perked up as Olivia bent down to scoop a ball up—and missed it entirely.

“I’m starting to think all of the kids should get their eyes checked,” You muttered.

“So should this guy,” Alyssa tipped your phone toward you. “Jeff, 42. 'No fatties, baby mamas, no gold diggers.’ As if this slob has any gold to dig.”

“Please swipe left on Jeff.”

“Bye-bye Jeff—oh shit, wrong way—Oh, you matched!”

“What!” You screeched, taking the phone out of her hand and hurriedly opening the conversation, fumbling with the controls, “Oh shit, shit shit, he’s already typing—Shut up!” You nudged Alyssa as she tipped her head back with laughter. “You are banned from swiping duty.”

“It was one—One mistake—”

“Heck no. You can’t be trusted.”

“The hell are you two witches cackling about over here?”

You glanced up as Henderson neared, eyeing your phone.

“Mind your own business,” Alyssa nodded back toward the field. “Isn’t there something else you should be doing?”

“You’re making a racket and distracting the kids.”

“Oh please—”

“We’ll keep a lid on it, Gus. Sorry,” You offered.

“Thank you—You see how easy that was?” He asked, pointing toward you.

“Go mind someone who needs minding,” Alyssa scowled. Henderson shook his head, turning to head back toward the kids. You looked down at your phone, eyeing the next profile.

“...I think he saw your phone,” She muttered.

“Hm?”

“Just saying.”

“So what?”

“Long as it doesn’t matter to Ben, either.”

“It wouldn’t.”

“You sure about that?”

You frowned at the insinuation before you looked back toward the field. You saw Ben looking toward the two of you as Henderson leaned into him, speaking into his ear.

“...Yeah,” You shrugged, forcing your focus back on your phone. “He dates, I’ve been…Out with people. We’re adults.”

“Mhm.”

“Alyssa.”

“No, sure! Sure.”

The sight of Borracho’s name popping up on your phone was as unexpected as it had been last time, and you were practically out of your bed before you answered. You’d had a few uninterrupted Fridays, but you’d sort of wondered when he’d wind up needing to call you again.

“Hey,” You answered. “Give me five minutes to get dressed, I can be over there—”

“You don’t—That’s not why I called.”

You frowned, stilling in front of your dresser. “Oh…Kay? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

You tentatively lowered yourself to sit on your bed again, brow furrowing.

“So you called because…?”

“I thought we could talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything?” And then he seemed to think of a better response, hurrying to add, “I just feel like we haven’t spoken much outside of pick-up and drop-off, since we didn’t really, um—We didn’t get the chance to talk after practice yesterday.”

That was true—a thunderstorm had moved in, cutting practice short and sending everyone scrambling for their cars.

“I guess not,” You scooched back. “How are you?”

“M’alright.”

“Yeah?"

“Yeah.”

“Work?”

“It’s uh—” He drew in a long breath, exhaling, “You know. It’s how it is.”

"Really painting a picture for me, detective.”

“What about you?”

“It’s good, work’s fine.”

“Good.”

It was clear from the silence that ensued that you each expected the other to go on, but for a moment, neither of you spoke.

You offered, “So—” as he said, “Listen—” And then each when quiet again, soft chuckles huffed out on either side of the phone.

“Sorry, go ahead,” You offered.

“I was just…I don’t want you to get annoyed.”

“Did something else in your fridge expire?”

“No.”

“Not sure I believe you.”

“You owe me a new mustard, by the way.”

“Deduct it from the monthly.”

“I will.”

“What were you gonna say that you thought was gonna piss me off?”

“If you start—I mean you never know what it’s gonna be like with someone in person, you know?”

And no, you didn’t know, but Borracho pushed on before you could ask him to clarify: “I can just be around, or have one of the guys come get you—”

“Ben.”

“—Or run a background check, ‘cause—I mean there are whackos out there.”

“I know, I’m speaking to one right now.”

“What’s the name on the profile?”

“I meant you, doofus—Henderson told you?”

A guilty pause, chased by a muttered, “He mentioned it.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No no no, hang on. Wait.”

You listened as he shifted in his seat on the other end of the phone, and suddenly you were so immeasurably glad that this wasn’t a conversation you were having in person. Of all things, you could never successfully hide your embarrassment from Ben—your lip-gnawing, hand-wringing, the way you scrubbed your sweating palm across your heated cheek and did your best to look anywhere but his face. But what did he look like now?

Was he rolling your eyes at your perceived overreaction, or did he have that sweet, contemplative look that he got when he was trying to figure you out, that little pinch between his brow and puckered purse to his lips? Was he on his couch? In his kitchen? Was he calling you as he laying down on his grey sheets, his head on a mismatched pillowcase?

Any and all prospects made you squirm as you stared at the storage bin at the end of your bed, wishing that there was a way to crawl out of yourself and fold up inside, surrounded by clean sets of sheets and extra towels and old pairs of pantyhose that you would probably never wear again, but couldn’t bring yourself to throw out.

“I’m not trying to be a dick, alright? I just…I wanna know that whoever’s around you is a good person.”

“I wouldn’t bring a bad person around Olivia.”

“I know that, but right now, I’m not talking about Olivia—Not just about Olivia. You should have someone good…You deserve someone good.”

Your heart sank into your stomach as his tone softened and quieted. For a moment, you wondered if Borracho was thinking of crawling out of himself and curling up in a storage bin, too.

“I’ve had good people. I know what they’re like. Hell, I married one. Had a kid with him, too.”

“This a relationship you never told me about?”

“Stop that,” You chided softly. “You’re a good man, Ben. You know that.”

“...Yeah.” It was a gritty and flat reply, and you were almost certain that he didn’t believe it himself, that he just wanted you off his back.

“Anyway,” You pushed on, “I will keep your offers in mind. Might even take you up on them.”

“Good.”

“And you’re always welcome to ask me to fake an emergency if you’re ever on a bad date, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Sure. Make me sound like a real nightmare. You wouldn’t have to try all that hard.”

“It’d be a tougher sell than you think.”

You smiled, sliding down against your pillows.

“It’s very sweet of you to lie, Magalon.”

“‘M not lying.”

“If you say so.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never in the Scouts…And it’s sweet of you to worry.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Now he was rolling his eyes, you were certain. You smiled, closing your eyes and resting your head back against the pillows.

“What did you and Liv get up to tonight?”

“Devon and Henderson came over for pizza.”

“I’m assuming that’s when he mentioned the—Right?”

“Pleading the fifth.”

“Oh, please.”

“I do not recall.”

“No, sure.”

“What’d you get up to?”

“Oh—Went to Home Depot. I’m thinking of redoing the bathroom—Alone,” You tacked on hurriedly.

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I can handle it.”

“I’ve seen your Pinterest boards and the shit you like on Instagram and I don’t think you can.”

“That is so rude. And stop creeping my social media.”

“I’m not creeping.”

“Really.”

“I’m just gonna politely ask that you forgo any use of shiplap.”

“How the fuck do you know what shiplap is?”

“You weren’t the only one in that apartment when you had HGTV on.”

“I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“I tried not to, but after a while it’s impossible to block out.”

It wasn’t every Friday per se, but every other week or so, one of you would call the other.

It was supposed to be the exception to the rule, those late-night calls—the ones that had everything to do with the two of you, and not nearly as much to do with Olivia. You felt a little guilty for that, sometimes. For so long, she was the only reason that you had the lines of communication open with Borracho. But when you called one another, both knowing that Livvy is asleep, there wasn’t even a hint of pretense that you may be calling to talk about her.

Borracho still teased you, still prodded at the open wound of your attempt to get back into dating. And you did go on a couple of dates, but none of them felt right. The guys had been nice, polite, but…But things hadn’t flowed. It wasn’t that you hadn’t felt a spark—you’d given up on that hope and notion a long time ago.

But for every awkward pause, your mind piped up in the most unhelpful way: Ben would know what to say right now.

“I’m not going to lie, I’m…A little surprised that you suggested this.”

Truth be told, you were a little surprised, too. The first couple of months of the new schedule with Borracho had been a godsend at first. You had more time to run errands, clean up around the house, spend some time with friends, and just have some you time. But…On some Fridays, you just didn’t know what to do with yourself. Your friends weren’t always free to hang out, and sometimes you missed having another heartbeat around the house.

Asking Jessa to hang out had been a snap, last-minute decision. You weren’t regretting it…Yet. She’d recommended a bar that you’d never heard of, with cocktail names that were frankly a little bit embarrassing to request—but they were tasty, and just the perfect kind of strong.

“I’m glad you did, though!” Jessa hurried to add. “Honestly, since the divorce, I haven’t gotten out all that much.”

You nodded, folding your arms on the table. “I know the feeling. After Ben and I split, I spent all of my time home with Liv. I was trying to fix everything, like patching holes in a sinking ship.”

“Ugh, I know exactly what you mean.”

You watched as Jessa shifted in her seat, toying with her straw.

“Can I ask…I mean—” She cleared her throat. “I’m going to say something and I really hope that it’s—”

“Sure, you can ask him out.”

Jessa’s lips parted in surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile. She huffed a stunned laugh, her hands coming up to try and shade some of her embarrassment.

“Oh my god!”

“It’s alright.”

“Was I that obvious?”

“A little. So, you gonna do it?”

“I’ve been thinking about it?” Jessa’s nerves were plain on her face, her fingers swirling the straw so quickly that you were a little worried some of it would spill over the sides. “I mean, he’s very nice, and he’s sweet…And hot. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

You couldn’t argue with her on any of those points. And to your surprise, it wasn’t eating you up the way that the thought had a couple of months ago. At least…The welling of petty jealousy that had reared its ugly head when you first saw Jessa squeezing his arm at practice felt a little more quiet now. Maybe you were more settled than you’d thought you had been on the idea. Maybe all you had needed was a little more time to yourself.

But that wouldn’t explain the little nagging pit in your stomach that told you this still didn’t feel right.

You could warn him, right? You could just let him know what was coming. Jessa had your blessing, but you could just warn Borracho that she was going to ask him out…Couldn’t you?

You stared down at your phone, blinking a little blearily. You’d had one more drink than you should’ve—your head had been spinning in the back of your Uber on the way home. You’d already texted Jessa to let her know that you’d gotten in alright, and to thank her for hanging out. But your finger hovered over the phone icon beside Ben’s name.

It would be normal to call him. Right to, even. You’d been calling one another so regularly that it would be weird if you didn’t call him. So—

Chicken fingers first, actually. Put the phone down. You could make chicken fingers and fries in the air fryer. Put those in to cook and just have to quick call with him while those—No, you would want to eat them as soon as they were done. Okay. Put the phone down and put the food in the air fryer. Have some water while you wait for it to be ready. Eat, then call Ben.

That was a good plan. That was the best plan you’d had all day.

You knew halfway through your second chicken finger that you weren’t going to call him.

The resignation of it sat steadily with you as you watched the Dodgers blow their lead, sending the game into extra innings.

What if Jessa changed her mind and decided not to ask him out? Then he’d just be waiting for a shoe that was never going to drop all because of your big mouth. No. You weren’t going to call Ben—not tonight, anyway.

You polished off your food, had a liquid IV, went to bed, and woke up with a mild hangover and no regrets.

“Oh boy,” You chuckled, leaning back against your car and folding your arms across your chest. “Someone looks all tuckered out.”

Olivia just grumbled as she slouched past you, sliding into the backseat of the car. You peered inside, watching her tip her head back against the seat, closing her eyes.

“I’m getting the feeling that bedtime wasn’t strictly mandated last night,” You added, turning to watch Borracho amble toward you.

Damnit, but he looked good. He was still a little sleep-ruffled himself, hair mussed. He let out a similar grunt as he scrubbed the heel of his palm against one of his eyes.

“We may have stayed up to finish watching the Dodgers.”

All the better that you hadn’t called him.

“You mean the game that went into extra innings and didn’t end until 12:30?” You asked.

“Acting real high and mighty for someone who clearly also stayed up to watch it.”

“Well, I can handle my sleep deprivation.” You tipped your head to the side as he stopped in front of you. “Long week?”

“Little bit.”

“Mm.” You reached out, righting the flipped collar of his shirt. You felt the weight of his gaze as you smoothed it before folding your arms again. You expected a goad, a question from him, but you got…Nothing. You met his eye and your breath caught in your throat. There was a blend of concern and loving care that he hadn’t regarded you with in a long time. You frowned, shaking your head a little.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna—” His eyes darted to the open backseat door before he pushed it closed. “I’m have something to tell you, and I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.”

“Okay?”

What the hell could it be that he was so worked up about? Had someone died? Was he being transferred to another department, another sheriff’s office? You didn’t want to uproot Olivia from her entire life, but you didn’t want to cut Borracho’s access off to her, either—

“I’m gonna go out with Jessa.”

Your mouth worked wordlessly before you managed: “That’s it?”

Borracho’s concern washed with confusion, his expression twisting.

“What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?’”

“Dude!” You reached out, whacking him in the arm. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“Ow!”

“Oh please, that did not hurt.”

“Well—” Borracho reached out, pinching your bicep sharply.

“Hey!” You shrieked, batting his hand away.

“What do you mean ‘that’s it’?’”

“I thought you were going to tell me you were being transferred or something! God,” You sighed, leaning against the car. “When’d you guys talk?”

“Last night. Just texting.”

Even better that you hadn’t tried and call.

“You said yes?”

“I’m gonna.”

"You haven't yet?”

“Because—” He glanced toward the back of the car again. “You two seemed to be getting along. Wanted to make sure it was cool.”

You melted a little, nodding.You patted his shoulder before getting into the driver’s seat, glancing back toward Olivia and lowering her window when Borracho knocked on it.

“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow hon.”

Olivia nodded, snuggling back in her seat as she mumbled, “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was a surprise to see Borracho knock on the passenger window, rolling it down just enough for him to lean in.

“You’re sure you’re good with this?” He asked. You smiled, nodding.

“I gave her the green light. I don’t mind giving it to you, too, Ben.”

For all of his training, his skill, he was unable to hide his surprise from you. It took him a moment before he leaned away, patting the side of the car. You caught sight of him waving to Olivia one more time as you pulled away from the curb, and did your best to ignore the unwavering sight of him in your rearview until you rounded the corner.

---

@missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ;

@ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ;

@millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ;

@thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ;

@winchestershiresauce ; @lorecraft ; @kmc1989

#Benny Borracho Magalon x Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon x You #Benny Borracho Magalon/Reader #Benny Borracho Magalon/You #Procedure

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calder · 1 year ago

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hello! i stumbled across your blog very recently and am curious as to what the tag v13 means- sorry if you’ve answered this before, i’m on mobile!

fallout is based on wasteland. wasteland is based on a canticle for liebowitz. a canticle for liebowitz is about catholics bickering about fiction in the dust of america for hundreds and hundreds of years. it is about religion and the concept of a dark age

VAULT 13: A GURPS Post-Nuclear Adventure was the ip's name in the conceptual phase. the very first VAULT 13 worldbuilding pitch doc--a timeline--spoke of a Dark God, a term deployed throughout Fallout but only contextualized in the fallout bible, which does not actually use the term. Laura has a special voiced line just for Tell Me About: Dark,God: "The what?"

Project V-13 was interplay's original Fallout Online, which was cancelled by the publisher bethesda like fifteen years ago now.

pylon v-13 is a location at the end of Fallout 76's map where a character from Project V-13 built a time portal and disappeared. it is the most cursed location in the game

by accepting its premise, we arrive at v13 lore, the rejection of canon in light of canonical time travel and multiverse, which has always been a thing, and is also literally a joke. it's the realization that fallout is defined by creativity, interpretation, expression, and argument. it is the understanding that non-canon lore and controversial lore are basic and vital pieces of the history of the setting. and it's the begrudging admission that fallout is a cultural legend, irreplaceable and beyond anyone's control. fallout makes sense to everyone and demands our imagination. it always will

enabled by all the most hated and rejected lore, my characters are time-travelling supervillains who know the things i know, and scour the wastelands endlessly to expand their knowledge. this diegetic headspace and cosmology is a lens i use to explore the concepts of conspiracy theory, paranormal thought, religion, and occultism, all of which i am deeply critical of. i have learned a lot about these matters because i was able to fully engage with them in the context of fallout.

also the talking deathclaws lived in vault 13 and the courier carries the vault 13 canteen. there's also some esoteric shit about 13 high priests, 13 ghouls, and 13 landmarks. it's a pretty specific throughline. it's there if you're mad enough to look for it. and we'll never really know what it means if anything

thats what it means. to me

another thing i always say is. any setting where humans don't see ghosts is a strange fantasy. humans have always seen ghosts. don't mean ghosts are real. just means folks see ghosts. and at some point you gotta talk about it

hope this isnt complete nonsense

#x #v13 #meta #fanon #3000

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louscartridge · 2 years ago

Text

i do not give permission for my fics to be posted claiming to be yours, translated, or posted on another platform without my permission.

p1h hyung line + intak x female idol reader

summary - this request

cw's are gonna be put at the beginning before each members headcanon

a/n- i wrote this on a mobile and proof read it on my laptop so sry if it looks weird lmaoo (i also kinda gave up on proof reading half way through)

keeho

cw- anxiety and a little suggestive if you squint

✭ you were at an award show and you had asked keeho to accompany you, not wanting it to be ‘embarrassing’ or ‘awkward’ by yourself. and plus? an excuse to see keeho in a suite?

✭ He obviously said yes (not after saying it wouldn’t be embarrassing or anything in his own way)

✭ “Y/n, even IF you WERE to embarrass yourself, what’s the worst that could happen? You could die. BUT! then, you wouldn’t even know or remember what you did so ??”

✭ Anywho.

✭ Eventually everyone had to take their seats and sit down

✭ another idol who was sitting behind you ended up asking for your number

✭ You took your phone out of your purse but you didn’t even get to unlock it before keeho grabbed it out of your hand.

✭ You looked at keeho for a split second before turning back to the idol behind you.

✭ “Sorry, I can’t find my phone and I don’t remember my number” you said before laughing slightly awkwardly. what idol doesnt remember their own number? so professional. You felt keeho subtly slide his hand up to your thigh.

✭ “Oh no, it’s ok. Would it be ok if I gave you mine then? Maybe put it in yours when you can?”

✭ Keeho’s hand slid up higher on your thigh and squeezed gently, but tightly.

✭ “Yeah of Course! That’s fine.”

✭ Once the idol gave you his number keeho took the paper out of your hand and gave you your phone back.

✭ Mf acted as if he didn’t do shit and took his hand off of your thigh.

✭ “What the hell keeho?” you whisper yelled.

“What?” he answered before a pause. “You got my number?”

“Yeah, keeho, I have your number.” Duh.?

“Good. I’m the only guys number you need.”

He picked up your hand in his and kissed it, placing your guys’ hands in between your right leg and his left leg.

Theo

cw- harassment

✭it started with you asking Theo to go to the mall with you as you were a little uneasy about going alone.

✭theo has been subtly flirting with you more and more lately.

✭complementimg small details about your makeup, buying you small things, becoming more physical, ect.

✭today, though with him spending pretty much the whole day with you he took opportunitys whenever he saw them.

✭ picking out a piece of jewelry he thinks would complement your skin tone, or eyes, or you would just like in general. Pick out a piece of clothing and have you tr it on and come out to show him what it looks like after AND pay for it if you like it bc he brought it up yk??

✭when you were done shopping, the two of you stopped at the food court.

✭it's was the summer so you dressed for the weather. Duh.

✭you were wearing a black denim skirt and a tight purple shirt with a few other acsessories.

✭as you guys were ordering your food, you noticed a group of teenage looking boys.

✭they seemed to notice you first tho, eyeing you up and down.

✭even when you and Theo sat down the boys continued to eye you, only this time, they're eyes stopped on your sitting legs and your butt pressed down on the malls seat.

✭you were pulled away when you felt a light piece of long fabric drape across your lap.

✭it was theos flannel.

✭true gentleman frfr

✭he moved his chair closer to yours and hugged you from the side, resting his head in your shoulder for a minute.

✭"thank you" you whisper "of course love." he whispers back and kisses the nape of your neck. He pulled away from you and slides his arm that was around your shoulders to your hand, interlocking them.

Intak

cw- a little suggestive, swearing

✭you were hanging out with intak and the rest of p1h

✭being with each other, being able to help and Inspier each other was helpful for writing lyrics and everything

✭you and intak have always had sortve unspoken tention.

✭and a tention that everyone picked up on.

✭so much so, that everyone fr thought you guys were already dating but we're purposely making it awkward in a failed attempt to hide that you were dating.

✭but like. You weren't dating?

✭you tripped, causing some of your food to roll off of your plate, on the floor, and quickly devoured by your dog.

✭"oh shit! Really?"

✭intak was quick to offer you his (even tho he already bit a bit off of it)

✭"nah dude you ate off of it."

✭ "not like you really care, the amount of times you've probably sucked each other faces off." keeho said.

✭ "huh?"

✭ you and intak looked at each other and back to Keeho "we've never....?"

✭ "you've never made out!?!??"

✭ "no?? We've never even done anything remotely like that??"

✭ "for real?? And you've been dating for how long?"

✭"were not dating either!" both you and Intak said

✭ When everyone was leaving you asked intak to stay behind for a minute.

✭"have fun" keeho winked.

✭intak rolled his eyes and you grabbed his arm, turning him around to face you. "can we?" you whispered.

"can we what?" intak asked almost just as quiet.

You might of awnserd him too fast "date?"

he started noding franticly. LMAOOO "i-uh-yea-yeah" he stutterd.

"Ok bye!" you rushed him out, both of you blusing I hate when ppl put that in ff

"oh, oh-Kay? Well-"

"I'll text you!" you yelled pushing him towards everyone else.

Jiung

cw- reader is a little bit of a cry baby, mini makeout session

✭you and jiung have been hanging out almost all day

✭you guys had both gotten off tour only a few days apart from the other and both of you jumped to see each other

✭so now here you were. Both of you sitting on the couch in your doms living room.

✭and talking about kissing??

✭you don't even remember how or when it got brought up.

✭"so your telling me you've NEVER kissed a guy before?" jiung asked surprised at the statement you had just made.

"never. I've wanted to! I've just never acted on it and no guy has ever kissed me, but There's only been a handful of guys I've actually wanted to kiss so honestly, I think I don't mind the fact that I've never kissed a guy. I think I would've just pulled away u less it was THE guy." you ranted.

"oh yeah? And who's THE guy?" he smirked.

"mkay, your getting cocky now." you rolled your eyes.

"hey, I'm just asking." jiung threw his hands up in defence.

A minute of silence washed over you guys before you awnserd.

"I can't tell you jiung." you whisperd.

The sudden shift in energy worried jiung slightly.

As tears started to prick in your eyes, you try to 'subtly' move to your right, away from jiung.

Jiung gently pressed the palm of his hand on your the bottom of your wrist and rapped his fingers around the rest of your wrist. "hey, hey. What wrong? Why are you moving away from me?" he put his other hand on your right wrist and pulls your slightly closer, him himself scooting closer to you.

"I can't tell you because your gonna be mad." you say your voice high and shaking from trying not to cry.

Jiung things for a second before shaking his head. "tell me what?"

"the guy" you sniff, actually crying now.

Jiung loosened bis fingers and moved his hands to hold onto yours. "oh, baby, I already know who the guy is. Keeho told me awhile ago, I just started flirting with you more and wait how long it would take for you to say something. I was just teasing, baby."

"really?" you sniffed again. "because I swear, jiung, if your just playing with me right now-"

Jiung cut you off and pulled you into a hug. "I'm not. I promise you I'm not."

You pulled jiung away from the hug by his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

It's was a sloppy kiss, but not in a sexual way. More in a "I'm still crying" type of way. Jiung could slightly feel your tears. Both of you could taste the saltness from some of your tears too.

Jiung pulled away first and wipped your tears away with him thumb. "you don't need to be crying anymore it's ok." he laughed a little at the end.

"I know, I just- I-I thought you would be-" you sighed, giving up on talking. You went over to him for another kiss exept this one was more heated. Like all the pent up tention, finally being able to be released.

Jiung moved his hands down to hold onto your waist.

You took his bottom lip in between your teeth and gently pulled on it as you pulled away.

You've finally composed yourself enough to speak clearly. "thank you" you say.

Jiung moves his hands under your shirt but moved them back to your waist and started to rub slow circles on your bare skin with his thumbs. "thank you."

p1harmony masterlist

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ianr36 · 2 months ago

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I will miss all of you but I think I’ve come to the conclusion that most here are bots. I really don’t get it! lol I will be deleting this app, and going old school face to face.

I’ve been nailed with requests for money looking over the fact that I’m looking for something real.

I feel sorry for all the fat short hairy guys with the little dicks that fall for this shit. You are the ones that are crying about being scammed so get to know them a bit -& ask some basic questions.

Also think with your head not your D. Not your ego. Be comfortable in your own skin. Have some discernment. The first question should be if most people in middle school have cell phones. Why do you not?

Q-Why don’t you have a mobile?

A-it broke, got stolen and the best one is it doesn’t matter. Lmfao!

(My kids have had one since 8?)

-I love you!

(Oh really? Even though we’ve never spoke)

-I’m not like the other girls.

(Yet you use the same script?) Holy wow!

Damn I imagine there are multiple call centers and as a business man I can respect that but as a human I cannot. So I cannot participate in this $hit! This is slavery and I can’t do it!

Both sides are being fed lies (bot, hooker or John) and it’s a shame that a platform that has the possibility to facilitate real change to occur, is being bulldozed by losers that don’t care about human lives.

Before you reply- please look at my previous posts regarding this and at a minimum let’s have some adult discourse

If you’ve gotten thus far, then you realize that I love humans I don’t care what gender you are. I fought for you in war multiple times.

You can say whatever you want whenever you want and I will always fight for that right for everyone.

Just don’t lie and try to play people that you don’t know- that this is a charade. it’s so easily identifiable.

Furthermore, why would you not want somebody to care for you? That’s intelligent enough to identify it if you were actually real? That’s a reasonable question right?

Let’s hear it? I want to think that a lot of you want true love, just cause I’ve been hurt before doesn’t mean I will be hurt again. That’s like someone trying to say that I tried to go in a business once and it didn’t work so I just gave up and went to slutting myself out.

If you just wanna slut yourself out there and treat yourself as a used tire-to each their own I’m all about that! Do what you do! I’m not a KIA.

But if you think for a moment that a guy who signed up to die for his country & opens doors for people and loves everyone no matter what can turn off the desire for wanting to spoil a special human, then please readiness that. Ffor anyone that is real on here and realizes that I am an open book and we could probably learn a lot from one another and grow together. I’m game for that conversation.. I feel so bad, but maybe I’m the one who needs to read more books! I’m game to talk for the next 24 hrs before I delete this app

But I have to be very upfront that I only like feminine women and that doesn’t matter what gender you were assigned to when you were born I don’t care bc I’ve dated models that are boring and numb and some girls that are amazing but I’m not desperate and I know my girl is out there.

(Sorry a lot of this was voice to text so if you have questions ask)

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delenygma · 2 months ago

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FANFICTION | Eleutheromania (Part 3/3) | Edward Nashton/The Riddler x Reader (AO3)

Gotham is not the only thing in ruins. Post-The Batman Edward Nashton x Reader.

Part 3/3.

•

TW: implied/referenced sh, implied/referenced abuse (past), mention of bruising, smoking.

Originally published on AO3 in April 2022.

•

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

PART 3/3

Time appears to slow down as you turn back to the laptop. Seeing that Red is now offline, you frantically search for the main IRC channel.

IRC//aolypkksly

CHANNEL//#thpu

<ME:> Someone… Explain?

<SILVER:> WHAT THE FUCK??!!

<BIT:> guys

<JAKE:> yooooooo!!!

<SILVER:> WE DID IT??!!

The chat explodes, becoming a blurry wall of text in front of your eyes. You slam down the laptop lid and bury your face in your hands as everything you have just witnessed begins to form a cohesive narrative in your head. There is a whirlwind of emotions in your chest, making you grip the edge of the desk in an attempt to ground yourself.

The room is quiet, the only sounds breaking the daunting silence being the rain and chatter of rats. The nauseating combination of euphoria and anxiety and guilt rushing through your veins is the last thing you need right now, and you try to swallow it down with the dregs of cold coffee left over in one of the coffee cups.

You almost choke as you hear the doorbell ring, making your stomach flip. Slowly, you make your way towards the door, your legs quivering as you cross the apartment. You find your fingers wavering over the post-it note obscuring the visor before you rip it off and look through.

It’s the security guard.

You notice that her hair is plastered to her face, rain streaming down her cheeks, as she grins at you and waves. Despite the risk, you find yourself unlocking the door.

“Hello, stranger.” She sounds excited, but keeps her voice down. She shakes her head as you take a tentative step back. “Come on, don't be scared. You’re the Riddler’s… Acquaintance. I can’t imagine it takes you long to figure things out.”

“Red?” You croak, realising how long it has been since you last had a face to-face conversation. The security guard nods. “How did you know-”

“Pass me your mobile phone.” She says, and you raise your eyebrows. “This needs to go. For… Your safety. And his.”

You reach into your pocket and fish out your phone, wordlessly passing it over to her. She unhurriedly puts the sleek device on the floor, before swiftly stamping onto it, glass cracking under her boot. She then kicks it into the depths of your apartment.

“I’m sorry if this was a little… Overdramatic.” She looks at you, her expression unexpectedly serious. “But your… Old life is over now. Really, truly over.”

You nod, slowly, the weight of her words sinking on your shoulders. Somewhat comfortably. You won’t be missing your old life at all.

“Look, I need to dash.” Red says. “I just wanted to check… If I gave him the right address. I haven’t been entangled in anything like this before and was shitting bricks, really.”

“Are you, like…” You make a non-descript gesture with your hands.

“Huh…” The biggest grin cracks her face. “Well, those inside Arkham often have… Other pursuits, you know. And I don’t only mean the inmates.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You know why.” She winks at you again, and adds, “He’ll be back soon.”

Red turns around and saunters down the hallway, her footsteps surprisingly light despite the weighty boots. You lock the door behind you, turn around, and take a few deep breaths.

Soon.

***

Blood, sweat, dirt.

The smell – no, the taste – is what wakes you up. You must have fallen asleep, somehow, although you promised yourself to stay awake. Opening your eyes, mind still addled with uneasy sleep, you realise that someone has their hand clasped over your mouth.

Your body stiffens as you take a breath, readying yourself to scream, or at least attempt to. However, you stop yourself when you notice the lights from outside reflecting against glasses. The tormented eyes behind them are nearly unrecognisable, but you know it’s him.

“Shh… It’s just… It’s me.” Edward’s voice is raspy and trembling. He sounds like he has not slept in days. Somewhat frantically, he mumbles, “I don’t know how safe… We need to be quiet.”

You reach up and gently brush his cheek with the back of your hand, blinking to adjust your eyes to the near-complete darkness. He gradually removes his hand from your mouth, and you scramble on the bed to make space for him to sit down. As you attempt to move your hand away from his face, he grabs hold of your wrist, tight.

“I… E-Eddie…” At loss for words, your voice is scarcely more audible than a whisper. “You… It’s okay. Sit down.”

Edward lets you move your hand away from his face as he sits cautiously on the bed, but continues to hold your wrist in a vice-like grip, clutching his mask in his other hand. With one hand, you throw off the blanket onto the floor and sit upright. Facing him, with your eyes now adjusted to the only source of light being the streetlamp outside your apartment window, you are suddenly overcome with guilt.

“I’m… I’m sorry to have let you down. I’m so fucking sorry.”

He slowly shakes his head, and you notice how his glasses are cracked, as well as the trail of bruises leading down his cheek. Your stomach churns as you notice the striped jumpsuit is splattered with crimson stains, some fresher than others. You open your mouth to let apologies keep spilling from your lips, but he stops you.

“You’re here… Now.”

“I broke a promise, Eddie. All these promises I made you…” You bite your lip, enraged at yourself. “I don’t think I can ever fucking forgive myself-”

“P-please stop talking like this.” He whispers. “The riot and the escape were not… Planned.”

“But I-”

“Arkham is a hell on Earth. I told you, it was like the… No… It was worse.” Edward’s voice is still soft, but more assertive. “The last thing I would want is you…”

“But-”

“You would have… It made me… Want to…” His lips quiver. Edward lets go of your wrist and buries his face in his hands.

“I need to carry on… I am still needed.” He murmurs. “But I can’t do it alone. I need...”

You move off the bed and notice him whimpering. Hearing you move, Edward thinks you are about to leave. Instead, you kneel in front of him, gently unwrapping his fingers from his face. He lowers his hands onto the mask in his lap, and you proceed to take off his glasses, placing them on the bedside table. Then, you reach for the mask. Edward’s hand instinctively twitches, as if about to stop you, but he lets you take it and place it carefully on the bed beside him.

“You won’t ever be alone again.” You say as you cup his face in your hands gently, conscious of the bruises.

You lean forward and place a delicate kiss on his chapped lips.

He exhales sharply. Pulling away, you see how stunned he looks. He whispers your name once, twice. Three times, almost like a prayer.

“W-Why did you do this?” He brushes his lips with his fingertips.

“Because…” You say, slowly, as all the pieces of the puzzle align. In your head. In your heart. You notice how he is trembling, and that your hands are shaking, too. “I love you.”

Edward opens his mouth as if to say something, but no noise comes out except for a short exhale. He feels like a creature caught in the headlights.

This must be a heartless joke. They said that he should not be loved, people like him don’t deserve it.After all, his existence was insignificant. Just another number, another cog in the soulless machine. To be chewed and spat out. He should have been dead by the time he reached twenty-five

They said-

-keepyourmouthFUCKINGshut-

-takeyourGOD-DAMNpillsyoudon’twanttobeputinsidetheroomagain-

-beaGOODBOYORELSE-

And it was the same in Arkham. History reprised itself, shouldn’t that mean something?

-youareFUCKINGSCUM-

-ifonlytherewerenocamerashereIWOULDFUCKYOUUP-

-NOBODYWILLCOMEYOUDELUSIONALFUCKINGLIARYESYOUARETHE LIAR-

-NOBODYFUCKINGCARESABOUTYOUANDYOUWILLROTINHERE-

“Hey.” You say softly, familiar with the sudden, faraway look in Edward’s eyes. For a while, the cadence of his breath fluctuates before he manages to bring himself back to the present. He is still trembling.

“You shouldn’t love me.”

The torment in his voice makes your heart ache.

“But I do.”

“W-Who do you love?” You don’t think that you have ever heard him sound this frightened. Not during his worst flashbacks, not even during your meeting at Arkham.

Whoever did this to him will fucking pay.

“You. You as a whole.” You say, and unexpectedly something shatters inside the both of you. You suddenly find yourselves clutching onto one another, teeth knocking as you kiss sloppily.

Desperately. Pathetically to some, perhaps.

You taste each other hungrily, breaking apart only to take irregular breaths, admitting how much you have yearned for one another’s presence, how you cannot exist without one another anymore.

When you finally tear away, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close and relishing feeling the softness of his body against yours. One of your hands is tangled in his hair as the other one rubs his back. Edward shakes uncontrollably as he begins to sob, feeling both sorrow and solace at the same time.

“It’s okay, Eddie. It’s okay…”

You whisper words of comfort entangled with love and truth. He cries until there are no more tears left.

“Shh, now. Come to bed.” You say, your voice gentle, and feel him nod weakly against your neck. He slowly clambers into the bed and lies down, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Edward’s face is drenched with tears, and red patches adorn the area around his swollen eyes. He makes a faint noise as he puts his aching head against the cool pillow. You climb in after him, positioning yourself so that you can cradle him in your arms.

“You’re safe now.” You whisper into his ear and begin to stroke his hair. He nods in his half-asleep state, taking a lengthy shuddering breath before nestling even closer to you. His body fits perfectly against yours.

Everything is a puzzle.

The lamppost outside flickers against the pouring rain which drums a hymn of triumph and melancholy onto your windowpane.

***

When you wake up in the morning, the first thing you hear is shuffling noises from the other room.

And Edward's voice, muffled by the mask.

“Why, hello there, Gotham City…”

On the bedside table lies a simple black balaclava. Next to it is a post-it note.

Join me?

You smile.

#del's posts #del's fanfiction #the riddler #dano riddler #edward nashton #the riddler fanfiction #dano riddler fanfiction #edward nashton fanfiction #danonation #the riddler x reader #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #fanfiction #x reader

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jasntodds · 1 year ago

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Petrichor [4]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 20,748

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut (wrap it before ya tap it!), a little bit of angst, mentions of scars, blood, bruises, reader gets a suit but the fit of it isn’t described just the colors (yes, it’s like Steph’s suit because it’s my favorite of the bats)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: So, I combined chapters 4 and 5 and this was over 25k words. Google Docs was lagging so hard I couldn’t finish editing on mobile. It was an ordeal lmao I’m so sorry. I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Over the next week, you and Jason continue your new dynamic. It’s fun for the both of you and it feels safe. Neither of you feel too much pressure with each other and you’re both really happy. It always starts with your game and then one of you makes the move. That’s usually who wins and it’s fun.

Now, you’re sitting in the kitchen on one of the laptops reading through a Reddit thread about the Titans. Steam is practically coming out of you ears as Jason walks in.

“You good?” Jason chuckles, seeing you look like you want to chuck the laptop out a window.

“Look at this!” You yell, pointing at the laptop screen that shows a Reddit that’s discussing the vigilante names of the Titans.

“What the fuck am I looking at?” Jason chuckles, his hand resting on the back of your chair and the other hand on the counter as he leans in.

“Acid Fingers!” You fume, pointing dramatically at the screen.

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter. “That you?” He glances at you and he knows this is going to be fun.

“I guess!” You yell, your hands flying above your head.

Jason shakes his head, looking through more of the names and they just keep more ridiculous. He’s taking a mental note of every name to call you the next time you make fun of him being Robin.

“Melty Hands?” Jason continues to chuckle, this is ridiculous.

“Glow girl!” You get more dramatic. “Who the fuck is Freddy Freeman and how can I kill him?!”

Jason looks at you and you’re so mad but he swears you’re endearing. “I think it’s great.” Jason lets his laugh subside.

You snap your neck at him, eyes wide, steam nearly coming out of your ears. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU THINK IT’S GREAT?!?!?! YOU GOT BEASTBOY, SUPERBOY, NIGHTWING, STARFIRE, AND FUCKING ACID FINGERS?!?!?!?!!? WHAT THE FUCK.”

He thinks it’s funny how annoyed you are by it. It’s not even a big deal given you’re not actually a Titan at this current point in time and he has a vivid memory of you saying you don’t even like vigilante names from last week. And the only thing he wants to do is kiss the scowl off your face.

“Acid Fingers is a great one.” Jason tilts his head back, unable to control his laughing.

“I’m gonna hunt this little shit down. Acid Fingers.” You let out a scoff.

“I like it.” Jason says through a laugh. “I’m calling you that, now.”

“Don't you fucking dare, Jason Todd!”

Jason’s voice drops, his face coming closer to yours as he goes to taunt you. “What are you gonna do about it, Acid Fingers?”

You look back at him and the annoyance of the whole thing almost melts away because he looks at you like that, eyes darting to your lips and soft and nothing else even matters. But then he would win.

“You’re named after a fucking bird. And you don’t even look like a robin! You look more like a parrot.”

Jason’s brows furrow but he keeps his stance close to you. “A parrot?” Jason chortles.

“Red, green, black, yellow. Parrot. Robins are not that colorful.” You snark and Jason can see you trying desperately not to let a smirk come to your lips.

“Still better than, acid fingers. Could have called you Sulfar, Nitric, Bombardier, Scorpian!” Jason says enthusiastically. “Cobra could work, I guess, but that doesn’t fit, I don’t think.” He nods his head just once, his brows are just slightly knitted together.

You blink at him. “I’m actually gonna kill you.” Your words are softer this time, holding no venom with the hollow threat.

“You can try, Acid Fingers.”

“Jason Todd, so fucking help me.” You let out a groan and you knows he will never let this go.

“What’re you gonna do about it, babe?”

“You’re such a brat.” You state softly.

Jason’s laugh bellows through the kitchen as he leans up with the laugh. Bruce peaks in to see what the yelling is about but he just sees Jason laughing hysterically, happier than Bruce has ever seen him before. You look like you’re about to actually commit mass murder but Bruce catches the hint of smile on your face as you watch Jason laugh. Bruce smiles to himself before walking off and leaving the two of you to yourselves.

“I’m gonna tell this little shit--” You start, turning back to the laptop.

“Okay,” Jason cuts you off, yanking your laptop away from you and closing it. “He’s probably like twelve.” Jason laughs. “And you don’t even like the name thing so, Acid Fingers, get a grip.”

“It’s so stupid.” You whine before it turns into a laugh. “It’s so dumb!”

“Hey, I’m a bird and Dick still fucking chose Nightwing, kept the bird thing going. All of the bat stuff is called bat-something.” Jason chortles and he’s got a devious smirk.

“It’s all so dumb.” You get tears from laughing.

“I think Dick actually named most of the stuff. He named the batcomputer.” Jason explains.

“OH, but I call you guys Batsons and I don’t even get a laugh.” You roll your eyes.

“You called us Batsons?”

“Yeah! Are you not the sons of Batman?”

“I guess.” Jason mocks you.

“Shut the fuck up, Jaybird.” You groan, tilting your head back.

Jason can’t stop the laugh that escapes his mouth with the nickname. “Better than shithead, brat, and Acid Fingers.” Jason gives you a wild grin and all you can do is groan. “Come on, get up.” Jason offers you his free hand while you reach for the laptop. “No, enough internet for you today, fucking nerd. I want you to meet someone today.”

“You have friends?” You quip and Jason’s jaw drops as he narrows his eyes at you. “And don’t say me or Gar.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jason laughs. “I have more friends than you do!” You go to open your mouth but Jason goes first. “Don’t say me or Gar.”

“Don’t say me or Gar.” You mutter under your breath, mocking him. “Okay, Krypto.”

“Krypto is a dog, he doesn’t fucking count!” Jason’s eyes widen and that’s something he really likes about you. Considering Krypto as a friend.

“I’m telling him you said that. You’re gonna hurt his feelings, you’re a monster!” You yell dramatically, placing your hand over your heart.

“You're so dramatic!” Jason doesn’t remember a time he laughed this much with anyone.

“You wear a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” You deadpan, blinking at him.

“You were a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” Jason makes a face, mocking you as he mutters under his breath. You let out a laugh and you adore him. “Come on, Acid Fingers.”

“See, dramatic.” You point a finger at him, a cocky smile on your lips.

There are bubbles exploding through his veins as you look at him with big eyes and that smile that could set the world on fire. He doesn’t know what that feeling is but he wants to chase it as fast and as long as he can.

“Come on, seriously. I think you’ll like her.”

“Her?” You raise a brow at him and you hate the way you find your stomach twist at the thought. You’re his friend, too and look where you are right now.

“Jealous?” Jason quips and maybe he's hoping you will be.

You almost say yes but if you’re both just messing around, that’s not very fair. But, he’s taunting you again and he always does that. You spend nearly all your time together so you take another route.

“Should I be?” You quip with confidence and you’re so sure that he’s yours even if your stomach fills with the warmth of green at the mention of a friend that’s a girl.

Jason shrugs because it’s the easiest answer in the world. “Nope.”

“Fine.” You take his hand in yours, getting to your feet. “Where we going?”

“For coffee in the city. Trust me, I think you’ll like her and you need more friends.”

“Aw, but this is so fun.” You scrunch your nose. “I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Have you met me?” Jason gestures to himself with the arm holding the laptop. “She won’t care. If she can tolerate my shit, she can tolerate yours.” Jason rests the laptop on the counter, you going to grab it but Jason yanks you back, pulling you against him. “Seriously?”

“No.” You shake your head, getting a grin before sliding your free hand up to his neck. “Knew you’d do that.” You pull him into you and kiss him deeply. You can feel Jason relax under your touch as you nip at his bottom, Jason groaning against you. When you pull away, his smile is soft and you’ve got that grin that makes Jason’s head spin. “See, I can plan ahead.”

“Alright.” Jason’s voice is breathless as he recovers. “Fuck off.”

“Taking the bike?”

“Always.” Jason chuckles. “Come on.” Jason pulls you along with him, his hand tangled with yours. “We’ll be back.” Jason peaks into the living room, giving Bruce a nod.

“Bye, Bruce!” You smile softly at him.

“Be careful,” Bruce states as the two of you head off.

"Okay, trust me, I think you'll like her." Jason beams, hands in the pockets of his pants as you walk the short distance to the door of a local coffee shop.

He's been friends with Molly for almost two years. Similar to you, Molly doesn't really take his shit but she lets him do his thing, she lets him be. She doesn't know everything but she's always been a good friend to him. Molly was the first person Jason even really considered a close friend. And introducing you to Molly, sure, is so you can have another friend because he believes wholeheartedly you'll get along. But, it's also another introduction to things that are his. Into his world. He doesn't have many friends, but he has Molly.

"Dunno, last girl I tried to be friends with, I punched her in the face." You chortle, watching as Jason grabs the handle of the door.

"Aren't you two good now?" He shakes his head in confusion,

"Yeah," You laugh and you can feel the nerves trickling into your throat. Meeting new people isn't always the most comfortable thing in the world. "I'm just saying though, that happened."

"Well, don't punch this one in the face, alright? She's cool, I swear." Jason assures you. "She also doesn't know about the whole Robin and Batman and Titans shit so don't say shit about that." Jason warns quietly, whispering in your ear before he opens the door.

"Yeah, figured that." You nod softly.

Jason holds the door open for you as you walk inside and he follows right behind you. You look around the coffee shop as Jason joins you at your side and then your eyes land on someone familiar sitting at a table alone near the windows. Your eyes widen as your stomach drops because it's Gotham sure but Gotham is a big enough city. Hell, you and Jason did have some overlap being homeless and you never crossed paths. But, this still seems so bizarre and you find it hard to believe.

The girl looks up from her phone, spotting Jason first and offers him a wide smile. But, then her eyes land on you beside him and her eyes go wide, the smile falling. Jason glances between the two of you, growing more confused by the second.

"Molly?" You nearly yell as you ignore Jason beside you.

“Y/n?” Molly gets up and starts the walk over to the both of you.

You meet Molly in the middle, your steps slow and you can't believe it's Molly. Your heart thunders in your ears as your eyes start to water. Molly pulls you into a hug as you meet in the middle and it's a piece home back in place for you. A part of you thought, maybe, you’d never see her again. Maybe you'd make the effort to never be seen again because that would easier than explaining everything but Molly hugs you and that would have been a bad decision.

"You know each other?" Jason questions as the two of you pull away.

"You know Jason?!" You and Molly question at the same time, looking to the boy who looks more confused than he has ever looked in his life.

"You first." You say.

"One of the shelters. My mom died not long after you took off. How about you?" Molly asks as she glances between the two of you, silently putting a few pieces together.

"Uhhh..." You look to Jason, realizing that explaining your story to someone you actually know makes the whole lying thing a little more difficult. Molly knows your tells. "It's a long story but San Francisco. He got Bruce to let me stay with them."

"Well, okay." Molly laughs, her eyes landing on you. "I've missed you." Molly's eyes grow teary.

You nod, the feeling in your chest growing heavy. "Me too. I'm....I'm so sorry about your mom. I-I should--"

"No, no, it's okay. You were processing yourself, it's okay. I tried to find you."

The guilt comes back, gnawing at your bones because you actively chose to be alone. It was your decision and you never had to leave Molly. Maybe had you just stuck it out, maybe you could have stayed. Her mom was like a second mom and maybe you and Molly could have worked something out. Then Molly wouldn't have been alone. You should have known. Social media is a thing.

"And you found Jason instead." You glance to him. "I am so sorry." You laugh.

"Fuck you." Jason groans but it turns into more of a laugh. "So, this is the friend you talked about in San Francisco?" Jason asks.

"Yeah." You nod.

"And she’s the friend that ran away?" Jason pieces everything together and he doesn't know how he didn't figure that out.

"Are you surprised?" Molly quips, looking back at you.

Jason lets out a laugh but his attention is only on you. "No, she does run."

"So do you." Your eyes widen as you snap your attention to Jason.

"Well, I got us a table." Molly gestures back to her spot.

The three of you make your way to Molly's table. Jason and you sit side by side while Molly sits across from you. It does not go unnoticed the way Jason pulled out your chair and the way you watched him until he sat down, almost subconsciously.

Molly raises a brow at the two of you. "Are you two...like?"

Both of you look like deer in headlights with the question. That question was a lot easier to answer a week ago but today it feels a little more complicated. Despite your agreement to keep this whole friends with benefits thing between the two of you, you both do not want to say no. But, you aren't together and you are friends so saying anything other than no, would be a lie.

"No." Jason lets out a breath, and he hates the bitter taste of the word. "She's just using me for a roof." Jason finds himself able to quip and he intentionally keeps his attention on Molly.

It stings, just a little but not because it's not true. But because you want to explain what you are to Molly. You want to brag about him.

"You literally offered. I was gonna just live on the streets." You quip back, holding your head high.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you." Jason scoffs.

"No, we're friends. I just like to fuck with him." You look back to Molly and Molly swears there's something there. But, she brushes it off because she hasn't seen you in a long time and maybe that's all it is.

"Oh, so that hasn't changed." Molly laughs softly.

Molly and you get talking, catching up. You mostly ask about Molly to avoid talking about yourself. But, Molly has always been the mom friend. The caretaker of the two of you. You’ve never been one to want to talk about yourself, but you’re quieter than normal. You were living in San Francisco. There's a story there and you seem happy yet you aren't saying much. Maybe you’ve changed more than Molly thinks you have but it seems weird.

"Okay, that's enough about me. Tell me about you." Molly takes a sip of her coffee and you nearly stiffen in your seat. "What happened?"

Your voice sticks in the back of your throat and Jason actively sees your eyes go distant. Talking about the stuff with him is easy, he didn't know you before. There's no worry of disappointing him. None of this was your fault, but a part of you thinks telling Molly, will make Molly disappointed. Gar reminded you of Molly. Too kind for the world. Gives that look when something bad happens that you hate so much. And you tug down the sleeves of your hoodie. Jason rests a hand on your knee under the table, you looking back at him as if it snaps you out of your haunting thoughts. He offers you a grin and then a subtle shrug.

"Uh..." You shake your head. "I was, uh, I-I was living with this guy, foster care, and he moved us to San Francisco." You nod your head, trying to find a way to lie. "Uh, he was kind of down and out. He had something wrong with him." You roll your eyes, knowing that's an easy way to put it and then you come up with the lie. "He wasn't in any place to, uh, to care for anyone. I guess, so he called this guy he knew which was Dick and that's how I ended up meeting Jason. Dick already took him in so, ya know, that's kind of it, I guess."

Molly nods her head and she always knows when you’re lying. You have a bad poker face. And Jason can see Molly wanting to ask more questions, so he interjects, squeezing your knee before placing his hand on the table.

"Yeah, Dick wasn't so bad. If foster parents or shit got overwhelmed or financial shit came up, he'd offer a place. Wasn't all bad." Jason shakes his head and you swear he's the best person you’ve ever met. He's also a better liar.

Molly's brows furrow and she can't tell when Jason lies. He's better at it. "So, Bruce sent you to live with him and then you happened to get sent there, too?"

"Yeah, Dick was adopted by Bruce." Jason states. "So, kind of fit. Dick picked her up like a month later."

"Yeah, he just brought me back and Jason has been up my ass ever since." You send him a smirk before offering him a thankful nod and a nudge with your knee.

"He get you into trouble, too?" Molly asks, a teasing smile coming to her face.

"I didn't get you into that much trouble." Jason defends with a laugh.

"How many times were we chased by the cops?" Molly quips.

"Oh, there's a story there, share." You beam.

"He was teaching me how to get the hubcaps off cars." Molly's eyes widen slightly as if to be taunting Jason.

"Fucking hubcaps." You grit your teeth as you let out a sigh.

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "And she didn't get fucking caught, did you, Molly?"

"You got caught robbing cars?" Molly asks.

"Look, I tripped and the pavement was wet, okay? It's the city's fault!" You laugh.

"The city's fault," Molly repeats with the shake of her head.

"And hey, she got me into trouble." Jason lets out a huff and you glare at him. "You told me to turn Dick blue! Or that time we were eavesdropping but I was doing it to make fun of you and Rachel was giving me a death glare for fucking two days when she caught us. That time you got me to try and sneak out after Dick enforced a curfew just so we could go to a midnight premiere of a movie!" Jason shrugs his arm over the back of his chair as he faces you.

You beam as you laugh because getting him in trouble with Dick is one of your favorite pastimes. He makes it so easy. "Okay and what about the Nerf war you started and Dick nailed all of us later that night? Or that time you said it would be funny to change all of the passcodes to fucking 42069 or when it was your idea to bookmark the weirdest out-of-context shit we could think of on all the shared electronics? And turning Dick blue, was technically your idea, I just told you to do it."

"What...what did you bookmark?" Molly asks hesitantly.

Jason gains a smirk, snickering it himself. "Use your imagination."

"It was not porn." You assure her. "We just wanted Dick to have some serious questions and boy did he."

"See, it was fun." Jason defends his stance.

"You ever do that to Bruce?" You questions.

"Oh, I did bookmark porn." Jason cackles while Molly groans and you let out a scoff.

"Of course you did." Molly nods her head.

The conversation continues, Jason and you bouncing back and forth with stories, almost all of them about harassing Dick. But you both tell stories about Gar and Rachel, too. Movie nights and video games. Molly is attentive and the entire time, she grows more confused about your dynamic. Molly's known Jason long enough now and she deems them fairly close but she's never seen him like this before. Not with anyone. And Molly remembers how you were and this is new, too. She isn't going to badger either of you but she definitely takes notice in how Jason's hand keeps dodging under the table every so often and you look at him every single time.

"Here." Molly hands over her phone over to you. "Put in your number."

You take the phone with gentle hands, typing away and then Molly gets a glimpse at the fading ligature scars as your sleeves fall down. Molly looks directly at Jason and he just shakes his head quickly, silently pleading with her not to bring it up. You're having a good time. If Molly brings it up, Jason knows you will shut down as you fumble for another lie. He doesn't want this exchange to go that way. You're long-lost friends and you will tell her in your own time but now is clearly not when you want to discuss any of it. And Molly accepts the plea.

"Here.” You smile softly, handing the phone back to Molly.

"I’ll text you." Molly nods softly and she swallows her questions.

"Well, we should probably head out. Bruce has a thing for us later." Jason clears his throat, standing from his seat.

You look at your phone and know it's because Jason will want to get a sparring session in before he goes on patrol. "Forgot about that." You stand with Jason while Molly follows suit.

The two of you hug quickly, saying your goodbyes before Jason and you head for the door.

He didn't know Molly was your friend. You went through your social media and archived those posts before Jason followed you. It was easier that way, you told yourself. It's why you also soft-blocked her because while you wanted to reach out, the idea of doing so and her knowing you were alive somewhere was terrifying. You were terrified she'd be mad, never forgive you for it. That's not Molly but it was scary anyway. So, Jason didn't know. But, you find yourself eternally grateful anyway. And you think he's the only one who would have noticed your apprehension about talking.

Jason and you get to the bike. Jason gets on first while you stand off to the side. Jason is ready to go but you’re still watching him, your helmet on your hip. You’re looking at him and sometimes, you give him this stare where Jason thinks you might be able to see through him. Like, maybe you can see every thought that passes through his head. It almost makes him want to push. Just almost because he can never decipher exactly what the look means.

"What? Not getting on?" Jason asks, securing his helmet on his head.

"Thank you." You let out a breath. "You didn't have to cover for me."

Jason shrugs his shoulders and he knows the look isn't one of thanks because you don't get it every time he does something for you. That's not it either. "'Know you don't like talking about that shit. And you clearly didn't want to."

He wishes he had someone that would cover for him because sometimes, giving the same damn spiel about his mom and dad and uncle just gets a little tiring. That's why he always handles it nonchalantly. Not having to air out dirty laundry and baggage is a privilege and Jason thinks you should have that privilege, even if it's just for today.

"Yeah, but thanks. I don't think anyone would have been as quick as you were about it."

Jason nods his head. "Hey, look, I'm just glad you got your friend back." He'll always cover for you if you want him to.

"Yeah, now I have you, Gar, Molly, and Krypto." Your smile is so bright Jason thinks it could light up all of Gotham.

"He's still a dog." Jason quips back.

"He's still the bestest boy out of all of you." You hold your head up high, popping your helmet on your head.

"If you fucking call me the bestest boy, I will stop fucking talking to you."

"Awwww, you seem the type to have a praise kink though." You quip, getting on the back as Jason lets out a scoff, his words nearly lodging in his throat.

"Not according to my notes from last night." Jason chuckles. "That'd be you." He turns his head to look back at you and he's thankful for the helmet hiding the burning of his cheeks.

You slide your face shield down. "Oh, so you're taking notes?"

Jason nearly chokes on his own laugh. "Fuck off. You ready?"

"I guess." You mock him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

Back at Wayne Manor, the two of you change into athletic wear and meet in the training room. You spar as per usual. Jason beats you every time. But you’re getting better. Every time you spar, Jason finds himself impressed because you pick up a lot on what he does and then mimic it. It's not helping you in sparring him, but he's completely confident it will help you in any real fight with anyone else. It's smart.

After your showers, Jason starts food for the both of them. You help as much as Jason will let you. This is his element and you find it endearing. You watch him and listen when he tells the story of how Alfred taught him. He's so airy about it, enthusiastic, and a little sad. He didn't know Alfred very long before he died but he clearly meant a lot to Jason. And you think you could listen to him all night if he'll keep talking.

Once dinner is done, you, Jason, and Bruce eat together. You and Jason mostly talk about meeting up with Molly and Jason learning from Alfred because he decided to bake cookies at four in the morning and woke him up. It's actually the first time you’re seeing Bruce in this light and for the first time, you kind of understand Jason's view of him. Just kind of. He doesn't seem so bad.

After dinner, you and Jason do the dishes. Jason washes while you dry. Jason glances over to you every so often and some of this almost makes him feel uneasy. It's easy with you and it feels normal but easy and normal aren't things he normally gets to experience. He's a vigilante superhero. That's not normal or easy but this feels that way with you. Cooking dinner, doing the dishes. He wonders if this will always be like this. Just him and you doing the dishes before patrol. And he gets this small hint of a smile at the thought of it because he almost has a feeling of security in thinking about the future with you.

And then you snap him from his thoughts, picking up your leg and bending your knee to kick him in the butt. Your laugh reverberates against the walls and Jason's heart skips at the sound. And he has to laugh with you, splashing the soapy water at you.

"Fuck you." Jason chortles, his nose scrunching.

"Time and place, Jay." You beam up at him and Jason gains his signature smirk, licking his lips.

"Got time before patrol." Jason states.

"Don't wanna wear you out." You quip as Jason hands you the last plate.

"Like to see you try, babe.” Jason wiggles his brows while your cheeks start to burn. “Hey," Jason shakes his head. "You wanna see if you can come out with us tonight?" Jason asks.

He's been wanting to ask all week. You’ve seemed to be enjoying your break away from being a vigilante and Jason doesn't really understand that part of you. But you did say you'd want to get back out there. He figures maybe tonight could be the night.

"Why? You want me to come?" You flash him a grin as he dries his hands and tosses the towel to the side.

Jason looks up with his eyes, a smirk dancing over his lips. "Maybe."

You shake your head, resting the dry plate to the side as you turn around, leaning your back against the counter. "Maybe another time, bring it up to Bruce." You smirk at him and you are wanting to get back out there. It's only been a few weeks but you miss it. That night with Jason, last week was so fun, sure, Bruce will be there. But it's something and you get can back to feeling useful if Bruce will let you.

"Yeah?" Jason's heart jumps to his throat and wants to reach and grab your waist.

"Yeah, kicking ass with you is fun." You give him a wild smile and he thinks he's going to combust.

"Alright, I'll ask." Jason nods his head and you get the sight a sheepish but accomplished smile on his lips. He's just so damn cute. "Wanna check out the Batcave before we have to get ready?"

"Uh, yeah." You state quickly. "Finally."

Jason takes your hand in his and leads you to the grandfather clock in the living room. Jason changes the time on the clock making the grandfather clock slide across the floor, leading into a stone hallway. You find that to be a weird point of access but it is hidden and kind of cool. You'll give Bruce that.

On the walk through the cave, going deeper under the house, Jason gives you a rundown of the rules. No joyrides in the Batmobile, don't tell anyone or show anyone. Simple rules that you already figured but Jason was told to make sure to go over them even though Jason knows Bruce will later anyway.

"This is it." Jason stretches his arms out as you enter the Batcave, passing by some tech and a hallway where you can see the Batmobile sitting.

It really is a cave. You aren't sure exactly what you expected, but you didn't think the cave thing was literal. And yet. Here you are, standing in a massive cave under Wayne Manor. There are things from the Riddler, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, and several other of Gotham's most notorious almost on display throughout the cave. You spot a dinosaur off to the side and you almost ask. You almost ask what the fuck but decide it's probably better you don't know why Bruce has a T-rex in the Batcave.

"It's literally a cave under his house." You state in awe as you reach one of the display cases that holds the Robin suit.

"Yeah." Jason chuckles, looking to his shoes and back to you. "Bats and caves go hand in hand."

"I guess." You laugh softly as you eye the Robin suit. "Your suit always like this?"

"Yeah." Jason nods his head. "Only comes out when we're out or when I'm traveling. Bruce's in another case hidden away." Jason explains.

"Interesting." You nod your head. It's weird seeing it on display but now you get the display room back at the tower. It was a Bruce thing. "And the batcomputer?" You ask, turning around to see a giant computer sitting in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, that's where a lot of it goes down. Researching, tracking those freaks down." Jason boasts and he does love this gig.

You think he's cute when he talks about it. His entire face lights up every single time. It means the entire world to him. And you wonder why, if it's more than just him wanting to be helpful and wanting to feel useful. But, you decide maybe she won't ask.

"This is so sick," You beam back at him. "Batman whatever, but this shit is cool." You’re amazed, looking around. You never thought you'd be in the actual Batcave at any point in your life.

"Right?" Jason agrees, leaning his lower back against the desk under the computer screens.

You walk up to him and stand right in front of him, Jason eying you carefully. It's as if every day, he shows you something new and you like him that much more. You see parts of him no one else is ever allowed to and you’re seeing the Batcave which might be Bruce's but it's Jason's, too. And you like that this is how it is. You like where you are and how you are. You like him, all of him. But you look at him with a satisfied and happy grin as you look around the Batcave and the dangers of it all settle into the marrow of your bones.

You all lost Donna. You know already. But seeing the Batcave is another reminder of what he does as Robin. No powers. Just human doing his best out there to help people. And that part scares you. Worried he won't come home one day. So, you close the distance between you and swear you won't ever tell him that.

You smirk, instead, Jason's eyes darting you up and down. "What's up?" Jason nods his head, his hands still gripping the desk under him.

You shrug, cupping his face before you press your lips to his. It sucks the breath right out of him and he doesn't miss a beat, bringing his hands to your hips and yanking you as close to him as possible. Your mouths intertwine into one and Jason lives for this. It's the not talking shit that you do. It’s the way you can kiss him now and know that's it.

You kiss and then sometimes more happens, or sometimes this is all it is. And that works for him because he's allowed to like you from this distance. He's allowed to let his heart and his blood adjust to the idea of it. To the idea of trusting another person like this. It allows him time to be careful with himself and with you. He can be sure you won't hurt each other like this. And he loves the way your mouth moves with his.

You pull away, your hands lightly gliding over his shoulders. "Don't do anything fucking stupid tonight, Jay." There's a flicker of worry that crosses your eyes, for just a split second and Jason can see it.

Jason squeezes your hips, a sign of reassurance. "Of course not." Jason chuckles. "Got a plan."

"Mhm." You hum. "Always got a plan."

"Always, babe." Jason furrows his brows, letting a smirk come to his lips. "Don't worry so much.".

You shrug a shoulder. "Someone has to."

Jason laughs softly, squeezing your hips again. "I'll be fine." Jason moves his hand to your chin moving your face closer to his again. "I got it." His voice goes a little graveled before he kisses you again.

Jason and Bruce get ready to leave not long after Jason and you come back from the Batcave. This leaves you alone in the Manor again. You don't mind it much, but it gives you a little bit more space to think and you were never a huge fan of thinking.

Your mind goes back to the tower that night it was attacked. And you wonder what would happen if someone figured out Bruce was Batman and then attacked the manor. What if it happens when they're not home? What if it's people like CADMUS? Where there's a lot of them and they're strong and you’re outnumbered? What if they want metahumans? The panic starts to set in so you go to your room and lock the door, grabbing a few of your knives.

You place one of the switchblades under your pillow, making sure it's locked before doing so. And then you place another in both of your nightstands, making sure there's always one around. Then you hide one on top of the fireplace in the middle of the room, just in case. When you’re done, you sit down with a knife in hand and pull out your phone.

You call Gar who, naturally answers after only a few rings. You talk every day still so you calling didn't send up any red flags. You kick off the conversation by asking how things are going and what he's up to. Gar asks the same back and you just say you’re kind of freaked yourself out a little and you’re trying to be honest about it. You know you’re just being paranoid but you’re freaked out anyway. So, Gar offers to stay on the phone with you until the Titans have to leave.

You keep in touch with the Titans regularly. Dick and Kory check in with you every so often to make sure everything is going okay. It's kind of nice actually. Being across the entire country and still having them on your side. You didn't really expect it but it is nice and you appreciate it. And talking with Gar is helping a little. So, when Gar says he has to go, you finds yourself getting up and grabbing your scrapbooking things before sitting back on the bed and turning on a movie.

It's after three by the time Jason and Bruce get home. You can hear them come in so you get up to unlock and up open your door, assuming Jason will find his way to you once he's changed and showered.

It's less than fifteen later when Jason appears in your doorway. Jason gets a look at you sitting cross-legged on your bed, your scrapbook stuff scattered about your entire bed and a knife sitting just off to the side. His brow quirks at it but he thinks maybe you needed it for something. And he goes back to thinking about you being beautiful and content like this. In your element with a movie on, in pajamas. And he can't help but smile softly.

"Hey." Jason says, keeping his stance. But his voice is a little groggy and he hates the way it sounds.

"How'd it go?" You ask, barely glancing at him to not seem too eager to see him.

But there's silence that follows. Seeing you, it brought him a sense of relief and comfort. A stark contrast to what he's actually feeling right about now. Patrol did not go well. And he can't lie because you'll look over at him fully eventually and call his bluff. So, instead, he hangs his head and lets the silence swallow him hole.

You look over, not liking the silence and your entire face falls at the sight of him You quickly get up from the bed and close the distance between you. It's hard. You've been injured together and you see him with bruises all the time, but it's hard. He's in pain, taking hits and getting hurt. And it hurts to see him beat up and feeling beat up. At least most nights when he comes home with a bruise, he's got that cocky grin and some story about kicking someone's ass. But, that's not the look he's giving you right now and it hurts.

"What the hell happend?" You ask, looking over his face, your hand lightly coming up to cup his jaw.

There's a light red bruise hugging his opposite jaw, a purple bruise starting right under his eye, and, blood is still dripping down the side of his face and his lip. There's a cut on his neck and Bruce was there. How did he even manage to get hurt?

Jason shrugs, a dullness in his usually vibrant eyes. "Did not go to plan." He looks exhausted.

You know he hasn't been sleeping much but this is bad. He looks defeated and you don't understand how he's managing to get so beat up when Bruce is supposed to be beside him. It doesn't make any sense.

"Fucks sake, Jay." You shake your head. "Come on." You reach down for his hand and drag him to the bathroom that sits between your rooms.

Jason takes a seat on the counter directing you to one of the cabinets that has all of the first aid supplies.

Jason's hands are shaking as he tries to calm down, resting them in his lap as he waits. A part of him doesn't even want your help right now. He wants to fight this. Fight everything and everyone around him, it should have been fine tonight. He's done this a million times but then he gets so fucking lost in his head, he loses it. It's not fair. And he's terrified Bruce is gonna catch on and take Robin away. How is he supposed to be Robin if he can't fight crime without getting hurt?

"Are you okay?" You ask, grabbing an alcohol pad to start cleaning the cut on his forehead.

"I'm fine." Jason grits his teeth.

"What happened?" You clean up the blood softly before moving up the cut, Jason barely even flinching with the sting.

"Just some fucking bullshit." The worst part is, he doesn't even know what actually happened. He just knows he paused again and all he can feel through his entire bloodstream is shame.

"That's descriptive," You state, glancing to his face and searching for any sign of anything other than exhaustion but you come up empty.

"It doesn't fucking matter, I fucked up again." Jason's scoff is bitter while you grab another alcohol pad and start cleaning the cut on his neck. Jason hisses in return, scrunching his nose.

"Did you?" You ask, looking to his eyes and then back to the cut.

"Clearly."

"Just because you got hurt doesn't mean you fucked up, Jay." You keep your voice level and calm, knowing this side of him all too well.

"Bruce said I did." Jason mutters and you pull away, tossing the alcohol pad in the trash.

"What do you mean?" Your brows furrow as you grab a gauze pad, lightly holding it to his head to stop the bleeding.

"Didn't listen, went off on this guy before Bruce was ready."

"Okay, so what happened?" You press.

You don't get it. Why would he do that? He's capable but why wouldn't he just listen to Bruce? It's not like this is new to either of them. It doesn't make any sense.

"Doesn't fucking matter." His voice is snippy but defeated and you get a glimpse at his shaky hands.

"Jay, hey, look, I'm worried about you, okay?" You eye him carefully deciding not to ask why he would do that. He's beating himself enough without you badgering him about his decision-making. "Your hands are still shaking." You offer a subtle nod, placing your free hand on top of his.

"Just an adrenaline dump." Jason brushes it off. He doesn't need you disappointed and worrying too much.

"Are you sure?" You aren't buying it. His hands shook like this after Deathstroke.

"Yeah, I'm fucking fine, alright? It's just bullshit, should have had him and I don't know. I don't know what happened."

It's not you. It'll never be you that's the problem but he can't stand the way he can't do anything anymore without being paralyzed with fear. And he hates how he can feel the burning in the back of his eyes because it's like he's losing his ability to be good at the one thing he always felt good enough for. Robin. And who he is if he can't do that anymore? And he’s just so damn mad at himself.

You nod softly. "Okay, well, if you're not, you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce." You try your best to reason with him.

You’re worried. And when he looks like this, every part of you wants to fight the entire universe for him. All you want is to make it all go away for him. And you just want him to be okay again.

Jason thinks about telling you. You won't judge him or be mad like Bruce. You'll nod and tell him it's not his fault. But he can't do that to you because he knows you worry about him. You’ve never kissed him before patrol before. He's not that dense.

"I'm fine, I don't know what happened, really." Jason urges and he gains a smile, placing his hand over yours that's holding the gauze. "Don't worry so fucking much."

"I'm always gonna worry about you, Jay," You roll your eyes and grab the butterfly stitches. And you pause for a second, sucking in a breath and decide to bite down your question. But Jason can see it picking at you as you go to place the stitches.

"What?" Jason questions, looking up at you.

You shake your head and you want to ask him if he's ever thought about taking a break to take care of himself but you think maybe he'll take it the wrong way right now. He's beating himself up enough and asking that now is going to make it worse. But, you help but can't worry about him and there's something off. You can see it across his face.

"I want to ask you something but I think you're gonna take it the wrong way and push me away." You state, keeping your stare on the cut.

He's looking up at you, watching as his heart stops in his chest. He doesn't want to push you away but if it's a question you’re worried about, he knows he's not going to like it. Maybe he will push. And that's not very fair to you.

"I won't." Jason states, letting a breath fall harshly into the air.

"Promise? Because I don't mean anything by it." You tread lightly and you know him. You’re going to ask and he's going to get mad.

"Okay." Jason’s voice is flat.

You place the final stitch before you make eye contact with him and place your hand over his in his lap. They're cold and Jason's hands are never cold.

"Have....have you thought...about taking a break from Robin?"

Jason feels his stomach fall a hundred stories. His heart stutters and everything feels cold. How could you possibly ask him that? Just because a break works for you, doesn't mean it'll work for him. You know how much Robin means to him and you’re asking him anyway. How can you ask that of him?

"You don't want me to be Robin?!" Jason barks, his brows pulling into a harsh line and you knew he'd take it the wrong way.

"No." You shake your head. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm just--"

"What?! Bruce thought I needed a fucking break!" Jason pulls his hands from yours and you take a step back. "Dick wouldn't fucking let me and look where that lead us! Taking a fucking break doesn't do fucking shit!"

"Hey, no, that's not what I'm saying, Jay. They forced a break onto you!" You yell back. "I mean you, have you thought about taking a break for you? On your own terms. Not for them. Fuck them. You know damn well I am on your side 100% of the time."

"But you're asking! You don't think I'm good enough for--"

"Shut up." You cut him off. "Don't put that shit on me because I didn't say anything. I asked you a question. Don't try and read between lines that aren't there. I am asking you because I am worried and I know you don't like it but that's just too damn bad, Jay. You ARE good enough. I'm taking a break and what? Do you think I'm not good enough for it?"

Jason pauses. "No...you are." Jason scoffs. "But I didn't fucking ask you to!"

"I know! And I'm not asking you to." You shake your head. "I don't even know if I think you need a break, but if I did, I still would never ask you to take a break. It's not my place to ask that of you. I--" You feel your heart skip and you are terrified of losing him. That's what this whole thing boils down to. You can't lose him. "I just..."

"What?" Jason asks but this time, he lacks some of the venom, getting the sense something's going on.

"I...I just..." You stutter because you have so much to say and none of the words will come out. They stick to your vocal cords as if it's a lifeline to everything you’ve come to adore over the last few months. "You....you go out every night with Bruce and...." The lump grows in your throat as your brows furrow and Jason feels the guilt seep into his blood. Maybe your question wasn't about him. "I don't know." You shake your head. "You're human, ya know? No powers and...I know that, obviously. Deathstroke and shit but uh...I don't know."

"What?" Jason pushes and there's a fear that creeps into his voice.

You almost tell him you’re worried about him not coming home. You almost tell him that if he goes out one night and doesn't come home, you'd lose it entirely. You almost tell him he's it for you. But, none of those words make their way to the surface because what you two are is fun and what you are isn't too pressured and what you are allows you both to exist in a simple bubble. What you are allows you both a safe distance from pain.

Jason thinks this is gonna be it. This is gonna be where you finally say the words and it changes everything. He's not ready to commit to it. It still scares the ever-living shit out of him and he also knows that turning you down again would be miserable. To go back to being just friends? Nothing else? That is agonizing. So, he sits nearly paralyzed, waiting to see where this going.

"I'm just worried about you, Jay." You stick to your usual form of concern and Jason can't figure out why his heart just fell into the pit of his stomach.

Jason lets out a breath that’s almost painful. He needs a way to reassure you that he’s fine. But, he swears that’s going to be harder than it should be. You see through every piece of bullshit he’s thrown at you. But, he has to try anyway because Jason has to believe he’ll be fine and that he’s just a little off. It’ll all be fine in the end. He just needs a little more time.

"Don't worry so much." Jason states and extends his arm out for you. You close the distance between you, standing between his legs. "I'm fine, alright? You don't have shit to worry about. I'm just a little off my game. It's not a thing."

You rest your forehead against his and Jason lets out a relieved breath. "I, um...." You pause for a second. "Just really care about you. Not sure what I would do if I lost you, ya know?"

He has never had anyone so afraid of losing him before. It's foreign. He doesn't know how to process it or what to do with it. He can't stop being a vigilante and deep down, he knows you would never ask him to stop and he doesn't even really believe you want him to. But, you make valid points and he also knows that if it were you coming like he does, he'd be worried, too.

Jason pulls away, cupping your face with is hands. "You're not gonna lose me, alright?" Jason gets a cheeky grin. "I'm fine."

He wants to push and run and flee. He wants to get the hell away from this conversation. It's the exposure of being a little vulnerable. Before, he could get used to it but now you both have that added layer of benefits and you’re saying you’re terrified of him dying and he feels so exposed.

Sun exposure can lead to skin cancer. Smoke exposure can lead to lung cancer, COPD, and smoke inhalation, all of which are deadly. Exposure to elements while being unprepared is also deadly. Exposure is deadly and he feels that fear knocking and pounding at the back of his head and against his rib cage.

And yet he finds himself wondering how someone who also hates being so exposed, just like him, is finding it in yourself to expose that part of you. You don't stutter much around him anymore but you just did, a lot, which means you were nervous. Exposed but you did it anyway for him and he doesn't fucking get it. It might as well be rocket science at this point.

And if he weren't so damn terrified of exposure and commitment and everything around him, he'd tell you he's afraid of losing you, too.

So, instead of running or pushing like he so desperately wants to do, he rests his forehead back against yours while your eyes close. Your thumbs run over his thighs and you fall into a silence as if knowing there should be more said in this conversation. But neither one of you are willing to say it.

Jason's heart is beating against his ribs and he thinks his heart is directly beating in search for yours. Maybe it's always been beating for a place to call home and it longs for yours because you’re the closest thing to home he's ever felt. And he wishes he could just tell you that.

But where words fail, actions can speak.

He pulls away, and lifts your chin, kissing your lips gently and softly. He can feel you smile against him and it brings him a sense of ease. The night still weighs heavy on his chest and in his stomach but you kiss him back, just as gently, and it makes the night seem a little easier to swallow. The way you kiss him, makes it a little easier for him to swallow the words he wishes he could say.

"What was that for?" You ask softly because he's never kissed you like that before.

"Thanks for giving a shit about me." Jason lets out a breath.

You let out a laugh, your nose scrunching. "Always." You suck in a breath and you want to understand every part of him. Jason isn’t all that hard to figure out but there are some things you realize you’ve never asked. And all you ever want to do is to be there for him and understand him, just as he does for you. "Can I ask you something?" You ask, pulling away to finish tending to the cut on his neck.

"Sure." Jason tilts his head so you can have better access to the cut.

"Why does Robin mean so much to you?" You glance to him, seeing his brows pull together in a harsh line. "I'm just wondering. I never asked before."

Jason lets out a breath. "I get to help people." Jason states. "Get to kickass with Batman every night, it's the sickest gig in the world." Jason chortles and his laugh makes your heart warm.

"That it? Get to kick some ass helping people?" You ask but the corner of your mouth is tugged up.

"I'm good at it." Jason states as you finishes placing the gauze pad.

His entire life, he's never felt good enough but he's always had this heart of gold. He's always just wanted to help and be helpful. That's it. And Robin lets him do that in such a big way. He doesn't even have the right words to describe it and a part of him doesn't even want to because he thinks it might sound lame out loud. But, he can see you offering him a soft smile.

"Yeah, you are the better Robin." You laugh softly.

"Yeah, thanks." Jason chuckles softly and he plays a big game but it's hard filling in Dick's shoes sometimes. "Just feel fucking important I guess. Like what I do matters."

You pause, your brows furrowing and you’re making it your mission to always make sure he feels important. You place your hands on his thighs while Jason's hands come to your hips. "I am not Robin but, uh, you're important to me, too, ya know? Even without Robin."

Heat rises to Jason's cheeks and he never really knows what to say when you say something like that. "Thanks." He clears his throat because he's worried this might go to a talk of sorts with the comment and he doesn't want it to go there. It can't go there. "What were you working on?"

"Scrapbook." You state and you decide to let him switch the conversation.

"What's it about?"

"It's a secret," You tease him, looking back at him before you grab a wet rag and start cleaning the cut on his lip.

"Come on," Jason groans, smirking under your touch. "Can't even tell me?"

"Nope." You pop the p and your mouth is tugged into a grin.

"Wow, thought there were no secrets between us." The sarcasm drips from his words.

You pull away and grin at him. "Oh, that are plenty of secrets, Jason Todd."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Jason's voice drops and he knows what you’re doing.

"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you." Your eyes widen at him.

He wants to hear all of your secrets. All the good, the bad, and the ugly. Jason holds many secrets close to his chest and you do, too but he wants to know yours. He'd be willing to sit and tell you more of his if you can do the same. You’re the only one he's ever felt that way with. He wants to know every detail.

"Tell me one." His voice goes soft, catching you off guard.

You rest the rag in the sink, placing your hands back on his thighs. "Then you have to tell me one." Your eyes narrow slightly, a smirk dancing over your lips.

Jason gets a smirk, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. "Deal."

You think all of your secrets are about him. He knows everything else. You’ve told him it all whether he knows it or not. The only ones you have left are the ones about him and those are the ones most guarded. They are yours. They stay locked behind your ribcage to keep you and Jason like this. Flirt and fun and no strings attached. But, he's got these big green eyes that make your secrets want to spill out carelessly.

"Okay, are we having a discussion about these secrets or not?" You ask bluntly and you want to know what's safe to tell him now. You don't want the talk yet. What you're doing is fun and easy. You don't want to complicate it just yet.

Jason shakes his head. "Nope." He doesn't want the talk either. This is comfortable. He wants to be comfortable a little bit longer with you.

"It was always you." Your voice is so quiet Jason almost doesn't hear you and Jason just eyes you as your eyes divert to your hands slightly gripping his thighs.

If things didn't get complicated with Rose and the attack on the tower, and if he wouldn't have pushed you away and if you wouldn't have run, you would have told him. You would have just said the words but all of those things happened. And while you don't want that conversation right now because things would change too much too soon, you do want him to know. He beats himself up when things go wrong and Jason thinks he's not worthy of being cared for or important to other people. He deserves to know.

His heart nearly stops in his chest. He racks his brain, trying to figure out exactly what that means because it cannot mean what he thinks it means. But he's almost positive there can't be anything else you mean by that. He remembers every conversation you’ve ever had and you wouldn't tell him something he wouldn't remember. The only thing that comes to his head is him and Gar. And that thought is banging and pounding against his ribcage, trying to thrash its way out into the open air and ask. To verify that's true. But, he can't. His ribcage stays closed and locked and guarded.

"Don't dig into it." You state as you finally look back at him and see the gears in his head start to move. "Your turn."

Jason bounces too many secrets around on his head. He could tell her so many. He's thought about kissing you since that day in the training room where you told him what happened to you. He wishes he would have kissed you both of those nights in the bathroom. He should have asked you to leave with him. But all of those seem too heavy and he knows you will want to dig into them. That's not fair to you. He won't do that. And that’s why he doesn’t tell you it should have been you, it’s always been you. You deserve to know, too but you’ll dig and he knows you will. That’s not fair. So, he picks something else that's still honest, but not something that'll bother you.

"I like when you help me like this. Never liked when Bruce or Alfred would offer." Jason’s voice is soft but a little hesitant.

You offer him a gentle smile and you actually expected him to say something less serious, something more of a joke. You were okay with that. So, this is surprising.

"I'll always clean you up." You laugh softly.

Jason isn't gonna talk about it. Not even that, it's too much tonight so instead, he pulls you closer to him before sliding his hands up to your face and bringing your lips to his.

Over the next few weeks, things continue as normal. You and Jason continue your new arrangement and it's going well. You've managed to keep it between the two of you, not even realizing Bruce and Molly have definitely figured something was going on. You're existing in your own bubble together. Bruce upped your training so he knows what you’re capable of. He's happy to have you along on patrol but he's going to make sure you’re safe just as he did with Jason and Dick.

Training with Bruce is different than Dick and Jason. Dick was defensive, Jason is offensive, and Bruce is a mix of both as well as observing. But, you follow along with him just fine and Bruce has you fitted for a suit because if someone is going on patrol with him, they need extra protection. And you’ve felt comfortable enough on the bike, with Jason's teaching, that you applied for a motorcycle license and are just waiting for the all-clear. Jason assures you that they approve most people and you don't need a standard license to even apply. So, you’re not worried.

Now though, you’re hanging out with Molly at Molly's apartment in Crime Alley. You've been hanging out a lot more and you feel so happy. You were best friends your entire lives and you missed her. It's why you never mentioned her by name. Keeping her name out of your mouth, kept the ache of missing her at a distance. But you're back together and Molly missed you, too. She always worried you found yourself dead somewhere. She's relieved you were just across the country.

"I missed this place." You let a sigh, opening the take-out box.

"I swear, we'd eat there every weekend. I haven't had this is forever." Molly laughs softly. It was your favorite place, eating there hurt.

"Really? This was the first place I wanted to hit when I got back. Jason and me went the very next day I was here." You beam.

"Oh, you took Jason to your favorite take-out place?" Molly asks with a grin, her sitting down and opening her own take-out back.

"Yeah! He needs to experience it, too." You defend. "Why?"

"Just funny." Molly laughs softly. "Seems nothing has changed though. Getting the same order."

"And the place looks the exact same." You gesture your fork at Molly. "Tim still helping out, just as a full-time employee now."

"Yeah, instead him running orders in between doing his homework," Molly laughs and Tim is the son of the owners of the restaurant.

The three of you aren't friends by any means but you've had your fair share of conversations over the years. Tim was always in the restaurant when you and Molly would pop in and the natural order of things would be to talk to people around the same age.

"Feels so homey." You smile softly.

Your phone vibrates and Molly has noticed your face lights up when you check it. You start typing and there's this smile on your lips that warms Molly's heart. You’ve always been a little cynical, just a little. But you were also happy. It's just, Molly hasn't seen you like this and you’ve been different. In some ways a good different and in others, not so much.

"How are you? It's been a few weeks and I haven't asked in a while. I wanted to give you some space." Molly’s voice is kind as she starts on her food.

"I'm really good, actually." You answer honestly.

You’re still having nightmares and you look over your shoulder still. But, you don't feel nearly as paranoid. The nightmares are slowing down. You’re getting a little more sleep. And then there's Jason. He makes you feel so at ease with everything.

"Good, you look happy." Molly’s smile is gentle and warm.

"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. You aren't sure you’ve ever been this happy as you type away as at a text which is of course just Jason asking what you and Molly are up to.

"So...you and Jason...?" Molly raises a brow at you.

"What about us?" You answer slowly, resting your phone on the table.

"You like him." Molly teases softly.

"Do I?" You quip.

"Yes. You have never been more obvious about something in your life." Molly laughs.

"What do you mean?" You snort with the shake of your head.

It's not so much that you care that Molly knows. It's that you know Molly and you know Molly is going to have a whole lot of questions as to why you haven't told him yet. In order for you to answer that honestly, you would have to tell Molly about Deathstroke which means Robin and you can't do that.

"Well, no one calls him Jay so there's that. You two are always touching each other in some way which is very uncharacteristic of the both of you. The way you guys joke with each other. You talk about him a lot. You talk about the other people but not like you talk about Jason. Then there's the way you look at—"

"Okay." You cut your off, getting the point. You didn't realize you made it so obvious. "I get it."

"So?" Molly presses.

"Yeah, he just...." You pause and a sad smile comes to your lips. "I really, really like him and he's such a brat, ya know? But...I don't know. He's...good. I don't know, he gets me and I get him. It's like we don't even have to talk to get it, I guess." Your brows furrow. "I don't know."

"He likes you, too you know?" Molly pokes at her food.

"How do you figure?" You chuckle and you’re always hoping he does but you highly doubt that’s a detail Jason told Molly.

"He watches you. Like, always. When he says something he thinks is funny, he immediately looks at you to see if you laugh which, by the way, you always do and Jason isn't that funny." Molly teases and it gets a laugh out of you. "He's really protective of you, I mean, he is with most but it's different with you, remember when we saw that move last week?"

"Yes?" You question and you’re not entirely sure what that has to do with anything.

It went as it always does when you go to see a movie. You tease Jason about how few movies he’s seen and he calls you a nerd and tells you to get out more. As far as you remember, it went as it always does.

"There was a guy eyeing you and you were oblivious to it because you were too busy watching Jason but Jason was staring that guy down so hard, I thought Jason was going to walk over and hit him, the guy left. If looks could kill, that guy would have been dead. Also, don't tell him I told you this, okay?"

"Okay?"

"When he came back, he told me about this girl and I've never heard him talk like that about someone before. He said she drove him insane but was also one of the coolest people he's ever met. And he missed her. I kind of thought he was talking about Rose. Like he wasn't over her because he said he was excited this girl was coming to Gotham but then you walked into the coffee shop that day and I knew he was talking about you not Rose. So, for what it's worth, he likes you."

Jason looped Molly in about Rose when he got back. He didn't tell her much but he did tell her. So, when Jason was also talking about this other girl, Molly kind of figured it'd be Rose because Jason, as long as Molly has known him at least, hasn't been with many people. It's not all that shocking with his inability to let people in so Molly always thought it was Rose. But, she watches Jason and you and realizes all those good things she's heard, were always about you. Not Rose. And Molly, for one, thinks the two of you would be good together.

A soft, sheepish smile tugs at your lips as your heart burns in your chest. "I didn't realize he talked about me."

It's a little surprising since it's Jason. But, your heart warms with the idea of him telling anyone about you. And him being excited for you to be in Gotham with him.

"You know Jason, super open and great at communication." Molly laughs softly. "So, have you told him?"

You shake your head. "No..." You mutter as you take a drink of your drink.

"Why not!? You always tell people and he likes you, too." Molly groans and Jason, she completely understands not saying anything but you? Not so much.

"It's complicated." You let out a sigh knowing complicated is an easy way to put it.

"Life is too short and you like him, he likes you. What's so complicated?"

You run every reason through your head. Deathstroke, almost dying, Gar, Rose, not wanting to get hurt again. Not wanting to Jason to die for you and Jason not wanting you to die for him. The whole idea of a relationship is terrifying. You’re both a little bit of mess at this exact point in time. The endless trauma that seems to follow you both around. And friends with benefits is fun. There are several reasons why this is complicated but most of those you can’t tell her. But, you can tell her one reason.

"I....okay...I can't tell you everything and I'm asking you to not ask about everything, okay? It's not my shit to tell. I can't tell you without telling you everyone else's shit and that's not fair."

"Okay?" Molly nods her head slowly, her brows furrowing together, unsure what you could possibly mean by any of that.

"So, uh....you just have to take what I tell you and don't ask questions and do not dig, I know you love to dig into things, so please don't."

"Okay, but you're freaking me out." Molly forces a small laugh.

"It's fine. But, look, something happened and uh....we got hurt. And I kissed him." You cut out every other important detail, knowing that likely makes very little sense.

"You did?!"

"Yeah, and I uh, I don't know. We went back home and we helping each other out and he told me he couldn't. He had his reasons and I...I agreed with him enough, I guess. And he said, that I was into Gar and he was into Rose anyway it wouldn't work with us. And that was the end of it." You poke your food with a fork because maybe that conversation still stings a little bit.

"You did it again." Molly groans as she she shakes her head.

"Yep." You nod your head. "I know, I realized that later. I should have fought but I did like Gar and he liked Rose. Those were facts we both knew. So, I Iet him push and I ran. And now, I'm....worried if I tell him, he won't pick me again and that'll suck. I know I put Gar in that shitty situation and that's not fair but I don't want him to push again. It just sucked."

You’re not a pick-me person but it hurt anyway. And you know that the odds of Jason pushing again, after everything and with where you stand right now, are probably pretty slim. But, there is that chance because he kissed you back that night, too. He never said he didn’t like you. But, that’s also a very, very small reason for not telling him. You think you could suck up the fear of it if it weren’t for everything else but you can’t tell Molly that. You can just give her this one, miniscule reason.

"Right, but you let him. And I'm telling you he likes you. What's the worst that can happen if you tell him?" Molly shrugs her shoulders.

"We'd have to talk about it and neither of us want to." You chortle.

"So don't? You tell him and then he tells you and that can be the end of it, you don't need to have this whole contract discussed and signed about it."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "There is more to it but that's what I can tell you."

"We'll, regardless, you should tell him. You would be good together." Molly shrugs softly, a cheeky smile pulling at her lips.

"I will, I swear. But, we're just having fun right now and I think we're both comfortable here for now." You take a bite of your food with the shrug of your shoulders. "What about you?" You ask changing it back to Molly. "Seeing anyone?"

Molly laughs softly, getting the hint to switch subjects. "Kind of. There's a girl, Sheila."

“Oh, Sheila?” Your eyes widen. “Go on.” You urge with a wide smile.

When you get back of the Manor, you go looking for Jason. While things are getting better for you, they almost seemed to have stalled for Jason. He feels happy. That's not the issue. The issue is patrolling as Robin and then the lack of sleep. His nightmares are several times a week and he can't bring himself to sleep some nights. He lays with you and you fall asleep. He never expects you or wants you to stay up and suffer with him. Everything is just hard. And he's so angry about it.

He's scared of everything that moves sideways and he never used to be like that. He couldn't afford to be like that. All he does is feel weak and every time he fucks up on patrol, it gets worse. He feels that much more like a failure and disappointment to Bruce. Every time a nightmare hits, he feels worse. And he hates that his leg still hurts. It's not fair and he's fine, usually. He deals with it. But, there are some days, like today, when the world feels a little heavier.

"Hey." You greet him quietly as you walk into the library, Jason seated on the couch against the windows with a book open.

He looks over the book and he smiles, almost subconsciously. "Hey, how's Molly?"

"Good, we got food from that place I like." You smile softly as you walk further into the room. He's reading Frankenstein again and you think the bags under his eyes are darker today. "Reading, huh?" You tilt your head slightly to the right.

"Yeah," Jason answers plainly.

You sleep together nearly every night and Jason doesn't know, but you feel him awake sometimes. And when you try not to sleep in each other's rooms, usually one of you wakes up from a nightmare anyway and wanders into the other's room. More often than not, it's Jason coming into your room. And sometimes, you’re the one that goes into his room to wake him up because he's screaming so loud, it wakes you up in your own room. The only reason you aren't completely freaking out is because he's getting better about talking about his nightmares with you. But, it's clear it bothers him. You wish more than anything you knew how to help him.

"Loud?" You ask and that's one thing he adores and appreciates about you. You’re never afraid to ask him about it. And you never really have to. You know. He never has to tell you. No one knows him like you do.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Jason shakes his head, a gentle smirk on his lips. "Nope."

"Okay." You smile at him. "I'll be right back." You spin on your heels and dart out of the room, leaving Jason a little confused.

He goes back to reading his book until you walk in, carrying your scrapbook supplies in both arms, you have a warm but wide smile tugging at your lips. You sit on the floor at the table in front of Jason. Jason watches you get your supplies spread across the table and that's another thing about you. You just join him. You accept him not talking about everything because he will. He always tells you what's going on with him eventually. But until he's ready, you just sit with him so he's never alone.

"I'll just do my thing and you can talk if you want to or read." You smile widely at him as you look over your shoulder.

Jason lets out a soft chuckle. "Can read out loud if you want."

"I think you just like to hear yourself talk." You chuckle, looking back at the table.

"And you don't?" Jason chortles.

"I didn't say I didn't," You laugh softly and you could listen to him read an instruction manual and still be entertained.

"Yeah, alright. Did you want context?"

"No, you can just read." You answer softly, leaning over the table to open to the page in scrapbook you were last working on. And Jason starts reading.

Jason continues to read out loud and you work on putting your page together. Jason looks over his book after every paragraph, not even realizing he's doing it so often. But he can see some of what you’re doing and you’re working a page that looks to be all of the Titans. He can see a picture of Dick and Gar laid out while there's another one of Rachel on the actual page. And he smiles softly. He just likes you so much and he is so aware of it. You’re in your own little bubble with him reading to you and he thinks this is how it should be because it's peaceful.

Jason has never known peace. Between how he grew up and the streets and Robin, peace isn't exactly in his life. He didn't even think he knew a life could have peace. But then he meets you and somewhere between the chaos of your lives and falling into comfort with you, he realizes he's at peace when you’re around.

He wakes up from a nightmare and there you are looking at him with soft eyes and a look of worry across your face. But one that wreaks of kindness and adoration. And the nightmares don't seem so scary anymore. And then when things feel too heavy, you walk in and hold the world up with him. When he wants to absolutely lose it because patrol didn't go well and Bruce lectures him, you give him a smirk and it quiets the thoughts. When he thinks he's not worthy of anything good, you kiss him and he swears you are good. And maybe, just maybe, there is a part of him that can be deserving of you. When Jason doesn't think he knows what peace is, you walk in and decides to be his peace for him.

"Are you ever gonna show me?" Jason asks, looking up from his book and leaning slightly over the couch to get a better look.

You shove your book away from him. "You're so nosy." You give him a fake whine. "Maybe."

"Just maybe?" Jason leans all the way up, trying to get a look at the other side and you move it away.

"It's not done!" You turn to give him the fakest scowl he's ever seen.

"Sneak peak?" Jason gives you a cheeky smile.

"While that is cute of you, no."

Jason puts his finger in his book and swings his legs to the floor, planting his feet down. He leans over to you, closing most of the distance between you. His grin is wicked and wild like a rogue wave and you want to drown right into him.

"You're just gonna make me wait?" Jason's voice drops.

"Patience is a virtue, Jay." You lick your lips as you look to his.

"I'm not a patient person."

"Oh, I know." You laugh softly as Jason gets closer to you, his nose brushing over yours and you swear you'll never get used to it. You can feel him leaning over you though and you pull away, moving the book over. "Nice try."

Jason leans back with a booming laugh. "Worth a shot."

"Gotta be quicker than that, Jay."

"But you'll show me, right? When it's done?"

"Yes, of course." You roll your eyes. "It's just a book about you guys so I'll give that. You get to know what it's about." Your entire chest burns with his interest in your thing.

"The whole book?" Jason raises a brow.

"Mhm. You all get a dedicated page. But that's it, you don't get any more than that."

Jason's voice catches in his throat because if they all get a dedicated page, that means he does, too. "Oh, I get a page, huh?"

"Yes." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you stop being so nosy, maybe you'll get two."

Jason wants to crack his rips wide open and let you take his heart right out of its place. He thinks maybe he was born with a broken heart, maybe it was supposed to be permanently damaged. And as he grew up, people took more pieces of his broken heart leaving him with this shell of something that doesn't even resemble a heart. Because it's guarded by so much barbed wire and latches, it's nearly impossible to access. But he wants to take all of that away and let you take what's left of it. He wants to give you every damaged piece of him he has left and maybe, just maybe, you'll offer a piece of yours for him. And his heart won't be permanently broken after all. Maybe. Just maybe, he's been wrong his entire life and he doesn't have to be broken forever.

Maybe he was born with a broken heart but maybe his heart wasn't destined to be permanently damaged.

"I'll take that." Jason beams at you and he wants to be involved in all of your hobbies.

He's not sentimental, but he wants to take all the pictures he possibly can in case you ever want them for a scrapbook. And he wants to go to your silly hobby stores and help you pick up more supplies. He wants to learn about how you choose a topic and how you plan your pages. He wants to know all of it.

"Can you show me how you do your scrapbooks sometime?"

Your brows furrow. "Um...yeah, of course. Didn't think you'd be into it."

"You like it." Jason states and you’re so head over heels for him.

"Can you teach me how to cook some of your favorites then?" You ask. "You like it." You state with ease.

Jason's smile is soft and loving. "Yeah, of course. Don't wanna learn your favorites?"

You shrug. "Yeah I do but...then I can make yours. You always make stuff for me."

"Alright." Jason chuckles softly and the both of you wonder how long you'll do this for. That was not a friendly thing either of you just offered and you both know it. "I'll teach you something tomorrow."

"Then I'll teach you tomorrow, too." You beam at him. "Think of a topic you want to do and find some pictures."

"Yes, ma'am." Sarcasm fills his words but he's so excited to learn about your thing. Jason leans in closer once more, almost kissing you before your attention is pulled to the doors by Bruce clearing his throat.

"Sorry to interrupt." Bruce states, eyeing the two of you and he finds this whole thing amusing. You both actually think he has no idea what's going on.

Jason leans back a little in his seat, cheeks shooting a fire engine red while you keep your attention on Bruce. Why do the older bats keep interrupting and how the hell do they always know? Jason though, can see that Bruce doesn't look mad or annoyed. He actually looks happy.

"Why are you so happy?" Jason questions.

"That's him being happy?" You whisper as you turn around to look at him and Jason chuckles quietly.

"Your suit has arrived." Bruce offers you a soft smile.

In all honesty, you thought that it would take longer but you can't be too surprised. This is Bruce Wayne.

"No shit?" You question and while you like to tease Jason about his suit, you do actually think it's kind of cool and you’ve been excited waiting for this day to come. That also means, you should be able to finally join them on patrol.

Jason moves to the edge of his seat because while this is your suit, he's just as excited. He remembers the first day he got to put on the Robin suit and he still deems that the best day of his life. He doesn't think it'll be like that for you but he's excited for you anyway.

"Would you like to see it?" Bruce asks.

"Hell yeah." You close your scrapbook and get to your feet, Jason immediately joining you.

The two of you follow Bruce down to the Batcave. Bruce hands you a suitcase, one similar to the one Jason has for the Robin suit. You head off to the bathroom/changing area and get changed. You look in the mirror and you beam with a sense of pride.

It's so lame and it's impractical to have to change but you really like it. In a way, it's as if it solidifies your role as a vigilante. You wear a mask and that's fine but this is different. This actually hides your identity better than just a mask does and you feel as if this is what you’re meant to do. The suit is the symbol of vigilantism and you feel so proud of it. It does not define you but you hold your head up high anyway. It just fits perfectly and it's yours. So, you walk out with your head high, a pep in your step.

Jason's eyes widen as he smiles widely, getting up from his seat at the batcomputer when you come into view. The suit is black but it has Pacific blue accents. The tactical belt is Pacific blue and the cape, that naturally has a hood, is also Pacific blue. There are two vertical stripes of blue fabric down your sides, the gloves that go almost to your elbow are blue as are your boots. The holsters hugging your thighs are even blue. Instead of a domino mask like Jason and Dick, you have a mask on the lower half of your face, covering your mouth. The mask is also blue. And Jason thinks you look absolutely amazing.

"Holy shit." Jason gawks.

"It's so cool, right?!!" You beam, nearly jumping.

Jason can't help but laugh. Of all people, he didn't think you would actually think the suit thing was cool. You’ve made fun of him a hand full of times about the Robin suit, mostly about the mask and cape. But, he finds it amusing anyway because you’re beaming at him and you’re he one that asked for the cape.

"I thought you said it was lame." Jason smirks at you.

"It is but it's so fucking cool!" You’re so excited and Jason can see the smile in your eyes. "Is my cape fireproof and bulletproof?" You look at Bruce who has a sense of pride. You’re not his vigilante in the same way Jason and Dick are and were but he thinks you'll do just fine.

"Yes, of course. All of your knives and tools fit in your belt and in the holsters." Bruce explains.

"This is so fucking cool, Bruce." You think you might vibrate right out of the suit from being too excited. "Thank you, seriously."

"You're very welcome."

"So, I can go on patrol now?" You look between the two of them.

"We go tonight." Bruce offers you a nod.

"You're a bat now." Jason quips, earning a fake glare from you.

"Guess, it's worth it. I mean, my cape is cooler than yours." You state as you pull the hood over your head. "I got a hood."

Jason lets out a heart-filled laugh. "Yeah, but yours was modeled after mine." Jason quips.

"Still it's so cool." You can't even fire back because this is just the coolest thing ever. "Gar is gonna lose his mind."

"He's gonna have a fuck ton of questions about it." Jason lets out a laugh.

"I know! But he'll think it's cool!"

"You're gonna hang out in that all day, aren't you?" Jason leans back against the desk to the batcomputer, a cocky and knowing grin on his lips.

"It is tempting." You let out a laugh as you look down over the suit.

"You'll be able to wear it plenty." Bruce chuckles and you remind him of Dick and Jason when they first put on their Robin suits.

Jason even said it was the best day of his life. It's like the suit makes it all real. It makes what you all do a reality, a sense of purpose. A sense of hope and that's why Bruce does it, recruits Robins. To help them and offer them a sense of purpose and hope. Even if things don't always go to plan.

"Thank you, again." You say genuinely.

"You're welcome."

"Can...can I show Gar? And the Titans?" You ask.

You’re not exactly sure where the line is on telling people. You know you can't just go out telling any random person, or friend that's not in your line of work. But it's the Titans, all of which know about Bruce.

"Yes." Bruce chuckles softly. "Just put it in the case when you're done." Bruce states before he exits the cave.

You pull out your phone and take a selfie, your eyes smiling for you and Jason shakes his head. You’re so pretty and funny and cute. Jason doesn't think he has enough words or even the proper words to describe how he feels about you. You walk up to Jason and hand him the phone.

"Wanna take one for me?" You ask.

"Sure." Jason chuckles softly and you stand in front of him, your hands on your hips with your head held proudly, the hood and the mask concealing most of your face and Jason has to give it to you. The hood was smart. "Here." Jason hands you the phone back as you look at the picture and you can't believe this is happening. Your entire life Batman and Robin have been the vigilantes of Gotham and now you’re one of them. It's insane. "It looks really good on you." Jason states softly.

"You think so?" You ask with hopeful eyes.

Jason nods, his eyes looking you up and down. "Yeah, it's fucking hot."

"Oh?" You question, pulling down your hood. "You think so?" Jason can't see it, but you’re giving him a teasing grin.

"Hell yeah." Jason closes some of the distance between you and he wonders if you see him like this in the Robin suit. You make fun of him sure, but now you’re the one in a suit and cape.

"Robin suit is pretty hot, too, ya know?" You shrug your shoulders lazily.

"You think so?" Jason's voice drops and he goes to look at your lips, realizing he can't so his eyes come back to yours and he swears he wants to drown in them. "Always making fun of me."

"Hell yeah." You pull the mask off and close the distance between you. "You're just easy to make fun of."

"Guess we just make a good team, huh?" Jason asks, his voice so low you can barely hear him and now he's freely glancing to your lips.

His hands rest on your hips, just above the tackle belt and he's never felt the fabric like this before, on someone else. There's a sturdiness to it. It's thick and textured under his callused palms. And a part of him, while he wants you to come on patrol, was a little nervous about it. With your whole ability to get kidnapped and held captive, or almost, it worries him just a little bit. But, you’re wearing this suit and he knows first hand that his suit protects him from so much every night and he doesn't feel so nervous about it anymore.

"Guess so." You lay your hands on his sides, lightly holding his t-shirt.

Jason grins before putting a finger under your chin and bringing your face to his, kissing you gently.

That night, you go out on patrol with Jason and Bruce for the first time. Going out with the Titans was always fun and riveting. It's one of the reasons you missed it but you were a big group. But, going out with just Bruce and Jason, it's just the three of you. And there's something about it you think you kind of prefer over the larger group. Even if that means working with Bruce. But, it's fun and you have a great time and patrol goes well. Nothing eventful really happened, just the usual small petty crimes but went well anyway.

The next day comes around Jason teaches you how to cook pot roast. It is his favorite meal after all. There's a lot of laughter and stolen glances. Jason's never taught anyone how to cook anything. It's always been him and then Alfred taught him some things. But that's all it ever was. And now he's here with you, teaching you and you’re like a sponge, absorbing everything he's telling you. You keep notes on your tablet and Jason thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You do all of it for him. And for a second, Jason catches him thinking that friends don't do that. Again.

You're friends, that's been established whenever Molly asks. Or Bruce gives either of you one of his looks that somehow say everything and nothing all at once but they wreak of suspicion. When you first started this, you asked if it were friends with benefits and Jason said it'd be fun. It is. It is a lot of fun. But, he does find that maybe you're crossing that line more often than not now where it's not really friends anymore.

You reach for his hand during movies and TV shows so you can play with his fingers and he rubs your back and plays with your hair. You kiss a lot more than when you're joking or sparring or more. You’re dedicated to learning his favorite meals and he's dedicated to learning your hobbies. You sleep together more often than not. You are almost always together or texting when you're not. He always makes sure you’re tucked in when he wakes up first. And he swears friends don't do this and a part of him wants to freak out about it. Push you away and call this whole thing quits but he looks over at you as you beams with pure and unfiltered joy, and he knows he won't do that.

He decides, he wants this. Whatever the fuck this is going to be, he wants it forever. With you. He wants you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Jason wants you to give him all of your broken pieces and let him mend them back together or replace them with every whole piece he has left. He swears up and down he doesn't deserve it and he doesn't deserve you. But, right now, in this moment watching you learn his favorite meal with the happiest smile he's ever seen, he can try to be someone who does deserve you. He'll try to be someone you deserve. So, he smiles back at you and walk up to you, wrapping you in his arms before kissing you.

And you teach him stuff about scrapbooking. You went to the store before dinner and you’re positive you were probably annoying because while Jason is interested, he also is a huge dork. He really enjoyed the googly eyes and insisted he would need them. For what? You don't know but sure. He was just interested in everything and you watched him with stars in your eyes because Molly is the only one who ever showed interest in your things. Molly is the only one who let you go on movie rants but Jason does, too. Jason does with enthusiasm and then it's like he keeps a mental note of everything you have ever said. You don't know why he does it or how but it makes you feel important in a way you’ve never felt before.

As the week goes by, you think patrolling with Bruce is so bizarre. He's been Batman for your entire life and now you’re....sitting on rooftops which is an entirely other situation, with him. It's weird as shit. But, you are enjoying it. You like helping innocent people stay safe. And you get to spend some more time with Jason, you get to watch Jason in his favorite element. Kicking ass. And he's hot while he does it, too.

Now, you're back at the Manor and you’re the first one to shower this time. Showering after patrol is actually the best type of shower. Even if you don't do anything, something about it feels refreshing. For you, it's kind of like you come home and then you don't have to be a hero. You can exist. You step into the shower and that part of yourself gets to wash away with the water. You think it might be better that way because you think Jason's issue is that Robin has become so embedded in every part of him, he doesn't know how to fully separate himself from it. And while you adore him, you don't want that.

You watch him and you listen to him scream in the middle of the night. He doesn't deserve it and you don't want that either. So, you separate yourself from it and when you’re here, during the day and after patrol, you are not a hero. You’re you.

Jason has found himself in the bathroom with you. It's a routine you’ve gotten into. One of you showers while the other one brushes your teeth and gets mostly ready for bed. Neither of you are even entirely sure how it started but there's a sense of comfort in it. It feels normal and safe this way. Even though the Manor is probably the safest place in all of Gotham.

And Jason can see you through the frosted glass and he adores you. You’re pretty and smart as hell, you’re dramatic and funny in all the right ways. You get his sense of humor which is a feat in itself. You get him and Jason likes to be close to you. You take care of him in ways no one has ever done. He didn't think he deserved it but you do. You clean up his cuts and scrapes and never even flinch. You give him a look sometimes with the roll of your eyes and all he can do is smirk because he knows you worry but you support him anyway because it's his thing. And you rub his back and you always know when his leg hurts.

Jason thinks maybe you don't know he notices when you notice but he does because you’re always extra cautious around him. You take care of him and he's thinking it should be the other way around.

"Hey, can I come in?" Jason asks, hiding the hesitance in his voice.

Your brows furrow but you’re not about to tell him no. "Um...sure?" Jason hears you laugh and his body erupts with goosebumps.

He strips down and pulls the door open just enough to get in the shower with you.

You turn around, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. "What're you doing?" You ask through a laugh. He's never joined you for a shower before, not that you mind.

"Thought I'd help." Jason offers you a smirk.

Your brows raise. "With?"

"You wash your hair yet?" Jason questions and you’re watching his expression carefully and sometimes, he's really, really good at hiding exactly what he's feeling and thinking. And this is one of those times.

"Yes." You state, your eyes slightly narrowing at him.

"Anything else?"

"No." You can't help but laugh and Jason loves the way it echoes on the title walls.

"I'll wash your back for you." Jason holds his head up high and you offer him a shrug, turning around.

Jason grabs his own soap and pours some in his hands. Once his hands are lathered, he gently runs his hands over your shoulders and your entire body erupts with goosebumps, static settling into the marrow of your bones. Jason is always gentle with you, even when he's not. He's careful and tender. But, this is different. You aren't laying down together or laughing about something stupid. And he's doing this just because. And it's just so nice of him and sweet and tender. All words you think no one else would ever use to describe him. But you do.

Jason rinses his hands once he's finished rubbing the soap in and he uses his hands to start washing it away. He's careful over the scars, not wanting to put too much pressure on them but he allows himself to trace over them. He wishes you didn't have them, not because he doesn't like them, but because you shouldn't have been put through that. He'd go to hell and back to prevent it from ever happening again. If anyone deserves better in this world, it's you. It's always you.

Jason presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are soft, brows slightly knitted together. You love how his hair sticks to his forehead when it's wet and the way his skin glistens with the waterdrops. You feel your heart start to race in your chest as he moves up your neck and you have never wanted anyone more than you want him. You think he's ruined you for anyone that could have possibly come after him. And every part of you couldn't be happier about it.

"You didn't use my soap." You whisper as Jason kisses your neck, you tilting your head to give him better access.

"Nope." Jason mutters against your skin before nipping at the base of your neck.

"Why's that?" You question, your eyes closing and you think you might suffocate under his touch. You feel him smirk against your skin, setting your entire body on fire.

"Because." Jason answers before he starts sucking a spot into your neck and he definitely does it on purpose. He likes when you smell like him.

Jason nips at the skin once more, pulling away to see the mark on your skin. And he smiles proudly to himself, before kissing the area and then kissing back to your shoulder again. You aren't sure what he's doing but you swear he could do this all night and you'd feel lucky.

Lucky is not how you have felt, ever. There have been moments where you’ve realized what you had before, with your mom, was lucky. And you realize Dick finding you was also lucky. Finding these friends was lucky. Finding Jason was lucky. But, you’ve never considered yourself a lucky person. Disaster and heartbreak seem to follow you around like a magnetic tornado. But, Jason is here and he's kissing you softly and gently and he's taking care of you and for the first time, you think you might be lucky.

Lucky to have him and deserve someone like him. You’re lucky to be here with him today and for the first time, you don't let the paranoia of something bad coming, ruin this moment. Whenever something good happens to you, something bad follows but right now, with Jason, you don't have a single thought like that. Because even with you not together, you’re lucky to have him. And you know it.

You turn around, looking up at him and Jason loves your eyes. "Let me." You whisper softly, grabbing your soap from the shelf and Jason chuckles softly, turning around.

You get some soap on your hands and start massaging it into his shoulders. Jason dips his head and he really could just evaporate into oblivion under your touch. It does something so special to him that he doesn't think he can explain. But he feels wanted and cared for. You’re careful, minding the scar on his back like he did with you and you trace over it, just like he did. And you massage some of the muscle as you rub the soap in because Jason's always too tense and his back is always filled with knots.

Jason lets out a soft groan as you work out a knot under the warm water and he doesn't know how you know to do it. He doesn't know why you do it and normally that would bother him. To not have the why. But, it's you and he doesn't need to know. Because he trusts you.

You kiss his back as you wash the soap away and Jason feels exposed again but in a way, he thinks he could live like this forever. Exposed to only you. It's not so scary when it's with you. And you can feel him relax under your touch as you smile against his skin. You can always get him to relax. And you always notice.

He'll be tense, maybe he doesn't even realize it, but then you take his hand in yours or you kiss him anywhere or you put your legs on top of his and suddenly, you see him let out a breath as if he's never been able to breathe properly in his life. And his shoulders move forward just a little and he gains this half-cocked grin, every single time.

When you started this whole thing, you knew. You knew how you felt about him because you’ve always known. And you knew he did, too. You hate conversations about feelings because it's exposing yourselves to being left bleeding wide open. It exposes you to the elements of heartache and being alone. It leaves you exposed to allowing someone else to hold the hammer that could finally shatter the last remaining pieces of your hearts. And you do enough bleeding and breaking for yourselves. But, you don't need to have the conversation because you’ve always known. Even when you want to deny it because that sometimes still seems easier than allowing each other to hold the hammer.

You slide your hands up his chest and rest your cheek against his back, hugging him softly. You feel Jason vibrate as a chuckle pulls through his lungs. He rests his hands on top of yours before picking one of them up and kissing the top of it. Jason turns around and places his hands on your hips, squeezing softly and he loves how your skin is soft compared to his hands. You offer him a gentle smile as you rest your hands on his shoulders and you love the way his shoulders feel on your hands, warm and sturdy.

"You didn't use my soap." Jason states with so much warmth you swear you'll never be cold again.

"Nope." You smile up at him.

"Why's that?" Jason dips his head closer to you.

He holds your hips like they're a lifeline to hope and happiness. And he wants to hold on forever because sometimes he needs a reason to keep holding onto hope. And you, in the middle of the chaos, offer him that hope. And he wants you, he wants this, late nights in the shower with you after patrol, cooking dinner with you, doing dishes, reading and hanging out in the library with you, today, tomorrow, and every day after that.

"Because." You whisper softly, brushing your nose against his.

Jason rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for just a second. There's this feeling in his chest, something he doesn't think he's ever felt before. It's in his chest and his stomach and seeping into every crevice of his brain. It's in his blood and bones and knees. It's warm like a campfire and thrilling. It's like lightning struck his entire body and this vibrating, burning feeling is the aftermath. He feels so happy. And instead of butterflies in his stomach, it's more like lightning bugs coming out during the first warm day of the year. Flickering with light and warmth, glowing. A reminder that the cold days are only temporary and it will be warm again. It's easy and subtle and calming. And scary and thrilling and exciting and happy. It's everything all at once. He doesn't know exactly what that feeling is, what the vibrating in his bones is or the weakness in his knees is, but he knows it feels like home with you.

You press your lips to his and it's gentle and soft. The kiss is sweet as honey and Jason pulls you impossibly close to him, your chests touching. And he wants to devour you.

You snake your hands into his wet hair, giving a light tug and Jason's hands trail to your ass, giving you a squeeze. You squeal against him and Jason chuckles against your lips. And you feel his length growing between you.

You take him into your hand, pumping him slowly and eagerly while Jason bites your bottom lip. The heat grows between your thighs as the kiss grows sloppy. Jason is heaving softly against you and his right hand snakes between the two of you, teasing your hole with a single finger. Your knees weaken with the touch and you let out a soft whimper, feelings your body desperate for more.

"Eager?" Jason chuckles hoarsely against your lips.

"So are you." You quip back, pumping just the tip as you feel precum leak onto your hand, mixing with the water. Jason lets out a groan, jerking his hips forward. "You're perfect, Jay." You whisper against his lips.

Jason’s heart booms against his ribcage as his head swims with praise. His cock twitches in your hand and the only thing he wants to do is pin you against the wall and drown right into you.

"Shit." Jason mutters as you pump him quicker, squeezing more at the tip before going back down the shaft.

Jason slides a second finger into you, you letting out another moan. His palm brushes over your clit with every pump and it’s like a bolt of electricity every single time. Your breath hitches as you feel Jason smirk against your lips. His fingers curl into you further, gaining an eclectic moan from you and he loves the way your moans sound reverberating against the walls.

"C'mere." Jason mutters pulling his hand away as you let out a whimper from the lack of contact.

Jason grabs your hips and turns you around so you’re facing the wall. Jason lines himself up with her gaping hole as you place your hands on the wall for security. Jason slides in with ease thanks to your wetness and the water spraying down on you. Jason starts pumping into you softly and then firmly. Your moans grow louder. Jason grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you up to him.

"Shh, don't want Bruce to hear." Jason's voice is graveled and you whimper, eyes rolling back.

"Jay." You let a quiet whine. "More."

There’s a snicker that falls from Jason’s throat and it’s rough and warm against your skin. Jason is nothing if not a tease in more ways than one.

Jason particularly likes these situations where he can get you to nearly beg him to fuck you. It sends his entire body into a lust-filled frenzy, taking all of his self-control not to completely lose it.

"What was that?" Jason asks, a snicker lingering in his voice.

Your voice catches in your throat, a whine falling from your lips as Jason's thrusts stall. You buck your hips back, trying to get more contact, trying desperately fill every part of you. Jason lets your hair go, gripping your hips tighter so you can’t move.

"I didn't quite hear you." He teases and you want to bite the smirk off his lips you knows he's wearing right now.

"More, Jay." You get out through gritted teeth. “Please.”

Jason chuckles, pulling out and slamming into you. "Anything for you, princess."

Jason pumps harder, fast, and deeper into your gaping hole and you can feel yourself about to unravel. Jason can feel it with the way your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust. He reaches his hand down to circle your clit.

You let out quiet gasp before it turns into a near pornographic moan. Tears brim your eyes as the pit in your stomach grows thicker and heavier. Your body feels like it’s on fire while your hands almost try to grip the slick tile wall. Jason moves his free hand to your mouth, him still pumping eagerly into you.

“C’mon, babe,” Jason’s voice is low and raspy, hot and lust-filled. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Jason nips your neck.

You mutter against his hand as your eyes roll back in your head, bolts of electricity ripping through your body. Your knees shake as your teeth sink into Jason’s hand. Jason lets outa hiss as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic.

He feels himself nearing his own orgasm and he quickly pulls out, spraying into the shower and down the drain. His chest heaves as he hangs his head, the high lingering around him as you turn around. You offer him a lazy and lust-blown smile. Your breathing is ragged but you do adore him with every piece of you.

Jason’s pupils nearly cover every piece of green in his eyes but there’s a delighted and tender smile on his lips. You watch his chest rise quickly, the water highlighting every raised and toned muscle on his torso. His hair sticks slick to his forehead and there’s just something about him that makes you feel alive.

"Can I wash your hair?" You ask bluntly and Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He looks back at you, brows raised. "Really?"

You shrug. "Yeah, of course. I like your hair." There’s a wide, toothy smile on your face as your eyes are hopeful and lively.

Jason shrugs one shoulder, a delicate smile pulling his lips up. "Sure." He chuckles before washing his hands under the water.

The next morning rolls around and you make sure you’re up earlier than usual, before Jason. It's his birthday today. You wanted to make sure you could grab his presents and be back in his room before he wakes up. So, you’re quiet and careful getting up and heading to your room.

You grab the wrapped presents you have hidden under your bed and then you head back to Jason's room. When you get back, he's stirring awake so you hide the presents behind your back before getting back on the bed, sitting on your knees.

"Morning," Jason says groggily but he's got this lazy and tired smile that makes you melt.

He's so confused. You’re smiling and the morning sun peaking in through the curtains is kissing your skin in just the right ways. You look so beautiful. But you are never up before he is, not when it's not because of a nightmare. Yet, here you are, smiling and beaming and he can't even imagine why.

"Good morning, happy birthday, Jay." You bounce slightly on your knees and Jason lets out a tired laugh.

"Thank you." He shakes his head, grabbing his phone from the charger and checking the time. "You woke up early for that?"

"Yes." You nod your head once and you feel the nervousness flood your veins. "It's your birthday, of course, I did."

"It's not a big deal." Jason lets out a scoff and his birthday has never been a big deal. He was lucky if anyone even remembered besides himself.

"Yeah, it is." You state confidently. "I got you some stuff." You safe softly as Jason sits up.

"You fucking got me something?" Jason questions, trying to figure out when you would have done that and how.

You give him a shy smile, reaching behind you and grabbing one of the presents. "Of course, I did." You hand it to him and it's wrapped in metallic red wrapping paper and Jason can't help but think it matches his suit. You did it on purpose.

He takes the gift softly from you and you watch him nervously, waiting to see if he likes it. Jason's heart stops as he opens a first-edition Frankenstein that's in a clear display case box. He looks to you with wide eyes and he never expected this. He doesn't own first editions. He's never asked because he's so worried he'll ruin them but you wrapped it in a box for a display. How the hell did you even know that? And he's only read it to you once and you knew it was one of his favorites.

"A first edition?" There's a softness in his voice as if he's unsure how to react.

You nod softly. "I asked Bruce for help but yeah." You reach behind you and grab the other one. "Here."

After dinner a few weeks ago, you followed Bruce into the living room to ask for help in getting Jason a few things for his birthday. You hate even having to ask but you knew nothing about getting first editions of books or money to get those first editions. But, Bruce was really nice and actually seemed happy to help.

"You didn't have to." Jason shakes his head, his grip on the case light, careful not to smudge it.

"I know but I wanted to." You shrug your shoulders softly and you think he deserves the entire world.

Jason shakes his head and opens the next present. This time, it's a first edition of Pride and Prejudice wrapped the exact same way and he just doesn't know how you knew that. How you knew these two books and also to put them into display cases. No one's ever paid such close attention to the things he likes, besides Bruce.

"Another one!?"

"I know you really like those books. You're a fast reader but I see you with Frankenstein and Pride and Prejudice often enough to know you really like them. And they're two of the books you have two copies of." You point to the corner of his room where he has his bookshelf. "Also...uh....there's more." You say with hesitance and you reach behind yourself, grabbing two thick sheets of paper and you hand them to him with shaking hands. "I made those for you."

Jason's entire face softens as he looks over the first one. It's like a scrapbook page, like what you showed him to do. But this one has what looks like torn pages from Frankenstein, his favorite exerts and quotes. There are pictures from the movie and Jason just blinks at you before moving the second one. This one is the same but for Pride and Prejudice and he is so confused but he feels so important and he can't even begin to understand it. He just doesn't know how you knew all of that about him without him ever having to tell you.

"How the fuck did you even know?" Jason's voice is breathy. "My favorite lines and shit?"

"When I saw you had two copies, I looked in them and saw you annotate one like a fucking nerd," You give him a smirk. "So, uh, I did not destroy a book. I just used Photoshop and made the book page images using your quotes and stuff you had underlined and had notes next to.” You explain, the nervousness growing in your stomach because you can't tell if he likes them or not.

"Why would you do all this?" His brows are pulled in a tight line, no smirk or grin across his face and you’re thinking maybe you overstepped.

You know you both cross the friend boundary all the time. A part of you wants to stop saying you're just friends when someone asks at this point. But, you are and you’re wondering if this was too much. But, he means the world to you and he struggles with himself. You just want him to know he's important to you, everyday.

"Because you're my favorite person." You suck in a breath. "And this is the day the earth was blessed with your insane presence." You laugh softly. "You deserve it."

"Thank you." Jason looks back to the pages and he thinks this must have taken a lot of time and planning.

He thinks this must have been something important to you to make because you don't show anyone your scrapbook stuff. But, you made this for him. He's not sentimental, but he swears he'll hold onto this for the rest of his life.

"Do you like—"

"Yeah! I fucking love it, thank you, I'm serious. I'm gonna frame these ya know?" Jason lets out a soft laugh, giving you a teasing grin.

You feel heat running over your cheeks. "I'm glad you like them, Jay."

Jason scoots closer to you and puts his hand under your chin. "Thank you." His voice is soft before he presses a kiss to your lips and you want to live here forever. His birthday might be your favorite day of the year.

"How do you remember all of this shit?" Jason pulls away, scanning your face.

"Because it's important to you." You state so casually and Jason is so shocked he can't find any words. It's as if it were the easiest sentence you ever said. "It matters to you so it matters to me."

That feeling in his chest is back. It’s coming at him in full force like a wrecking ball. Banging and pounding against every bone in his body. He’s sitting down but he swears his knees are weak and his head is foggy. His chest is on fucking fire but the only thing he feels right now is a tender and comforting type of warmth.

"Thank you." Jason pulls you into him and kisses you again and he thinks this is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life. With you.

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A/n: I promise I’m getting to the angst lol But because I know what I wrote for that and what I have planned, I’m giving you guys a lot of fluff on purpose lol but I’m excited to get there which is why I’m combining chapters lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @anthemabby // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou

#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #jason todd x yn #petrichor #jason todd smut

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