#the admiration on Jasons end...

[normal-nightmare]

God. God I'm completely fucking insane about Dick and Jason

Their dynamic is everything to me. They have such a complicated relationship and history. They've been enemies and friends and almost-brothers. The what-ifs and should-have-beens and might-haves linger in between them so heavily. The guilt and grief sticks to their relationship and might never go away. They keep hurting each other but they love each other so much and they want to keep trying, to understand each other

Because that's what love is!! Relationships aren't perfect but that doesn't matter! They keep trying and they WANT to keep trying! Jason sees Dick for who he is and still thinks he's the most amazing thing he's ever seen. Dick has seen Jason at his absolute worst and still wants him around. They've both wanted the other dead and they've fought and gotten each other bloody and they still come back and offer a hand up.

They SEE each other- and that's terrifying. And they love each other so so deeply. The commitment, the sense of duty and obligation, it's all there. They don't HAVE to keep caring or trying- but they do regardless and God isn't that what love is? Trying?

Just. God they're so devoted to each other even when they've been hurt, even when they don't quite know how to show it or get the other to understand. But they try.

God, they try.

[centaurs-arejerks]

my number one headcanon that you can pry out of my cold dead heads is that every robin had a crush on their predecessor

[steor-ra]

Bring back the dead (1) (2)

Y!batfam x neglected!Gn

(Read author's note in the end for more information/updates!)

Sometimes you've wondered if there's a another universe where you'd be happy.

Perhaps in another universe, you would have a loving, caring family, much like the other kids at the park who always have genuine smiles on their faces while you look on with enviousness and a heavy heart as a child. You've always wondered, though, what if things had turned out differently, what if your mother had truly wanted you as a child so you wouldn't end up with your biological father, or maybe bruce payed more attention to you instead of that stupid costume and crowl.

Your stomach would sometimes churn at the prospect of being loved; it didn't seem right. Perhaps you didn't enjoy the sound of being loved because you've become accustomed to feeling neglected. It no longer hurts when Bruce passes past you or you see any of your siblings hanging out.

Maybe you just don't know what it's like to feel loved.

you've seen how Bruce cares for others, including Gotham's villains, to whom he pledged to defend everyone strolling down the shallow street full of evil.

You've seen how he'd be there if Dick was seriously injured, how he'd be comforting Dick as you stand beside the bed Dick is lying on, completely discarding you, as if Bruce is presenting you with a reality you've always desired, shoving it in your face that the only time you'll ever receive attention from him is through your imagination. it hurts to see that Bruce could actually care if someone is hurt, no matter how big or small, whereas, despite being deeply scarred by an abusive drug addict mother, you knew that Bruce won't care if you are dying right now; there are other problems in Gotham he needs to deal with. Atleast that's what you thought, maybe there's a tiny bit of hope?

It's perplexing when you feel the green-eyed monster tighten your heart when you witness the Wayne 'family' joyful without you because your gut always tightens the same way when you imagine yourself standing alongside them.

It just didn't stick right to the fantasies of being doted on like Damian by his siblings, admired like Dick, constantly praised for your intelligence like Tim and Barbara, having your father's attention the same amount as Jason, being cared for like Stephanie or Cassandra, and being loved by your father, Bruce.

The family was odd, to be sure, but that didn't stop them from being so talented that you stood out like a sore thumb; sometimes you just wish that, aside from Alfred, at least one of them wasn't a vigilante who would rather fight criminals who killed a child than admit that they themselves had killed one.

But what if you had a much more different life than this one?

Maybe you'd be an only child; you've always felt like one, but maybe now that your siblings are gone, Bruce's attention would be focused to you, and maybe you two could finally go on father-child dates. You can't picture what Bruce would be like during it though; will he still be the cold 'father' to you? Or will he be compassionate, like he is with Damien? The questions wrecked your fantasies, so you abandoned them, just as your mother did to you.

Or perhaps you'd be the oldest; like Dick, you'd have younger siblings who would look up to you, see you as a figure, and possibly love your younger siblings in ways you never were. You'd adore your first baby sibling till the last, making certain not to disregard anyone, like Dick did to you.

Or maybe you'd be one of them, one of the bat-vigilantes, fighting alongside them, with many skills to blend in with them; maybe you wouldn't be neglected now that you're a vigilante; you'd be in Batman's care, and he'd give you attention through training; and maybe Damian wouldn't harass you for being "useless" just because you're not on their team. As a vigilante, you might get harmed all the time, but it wouldn't make a difference in this reality, would it?

It aches to know that the only way you'll ever be able to receive affection is through fantasy, even if the imagination felt cold and lonely, which probably because you didn't know what it feels like to receive warmth from your family.

It's complicated but that's okay. You won't ask for it now that you know you're dying without ever experiencing love from your supposed father, Bruce, or being saved by Batman, all in the name of protecting others who are worthy of his presence.

You are not afraid of dying, but the idea of being alone during it is frightening. You feel sorry for yourself, knowing that you will be alone until your dying breath.

Even until your last breath, you'd be mumbling their names like a broken mantra, praying for them to save you, the same way you had when you still believed in their promises.

It hurts so much. everything aches in both ways.

In comparison to the other kidnappers, the kidnapper is brutal and shows no mercy. This time, the adductor is the well-known Joker, and you're frightened This is the same villain who carelessly attempted to beat Batman nearly every day, who viciously murdered your brother Jason, and who rendered Barbara crippled. Joker is the guy who wrecked your family, so hearing his name should send shivers down your spine.

You screamed in agony as the joker tore your nails one by one; your head ached, and all you could hear was a loud pitch ringing. You're covered in bruises and blood, from head to toe.

It didn't help that all you could think about was the possibility of dying without anyone knowing, which terrified you. All those nights and days of ignoring you in order to save the city meanwhile when you're genuinely in need of help from your family whom are heroes, will also ignore it, and it breaks you.

Are you actually a burden to them? Are you truly that worthless that you can't be spared this torture? Not to be rescued by your own father? Is anyone considered part of a family? All you did was ask for a savior coming from your vigilante family. Was that a lot to ask for?

Suddenly, all of the pain felt numb, and a knife has been plugged into your chest, leaving an aching hole where your heart should be. The nasty, jagged bit of steel soaked in thick red that dripped from your chest became your best friend; it sticks closer to your heart more than anyone else has ever been.

The ringing drowned out Joker's maniacal laughter as he crackled at the way your eyes went blank and your body slumped.

"Aw man~ this bird is sooo boring" he sighs dramatically "no wonder brucie didn't care"

"Poor you~"

And with that, you fell unconscious

Dick has never felt so guilty since his parents' deaths and for making the Robin a legacy, causing some deaths and permanent damages, but those feelings fail in comparison to the guilt he is experiencing right now. The more he watches the videos you've made over your time at the mansion, the more he wants to scream and rip his hair out.

He thinks it's lovely at first because you enjoy capturing your life through vlogging; that was the first thing he learned about you, and if he brings you back, he'll make sure to learn every single action. But you're of legal age to do and go whatever you want, and he knows that, the guilt of not knowing your age is killing him, and the realization that he and others have practically disregarded you your entire existence stings. He's supposed to be a figure to everyone; he's become one to whatever child Batman comes, as well as others all across the world, so he feels bad that he wasn't a brother figure to you. God knows what trauma you've been through being neglected all your life.

But that is beneath the point. He's currently looking back to the day you were first brought to the manor. Alfred was the one who welcomed you and offered you a digital camera to entertain yourself. Dick knows this because he saw it at the beginning of the video.

The video quality is awful; he figured because this was filmed years ago, there isn't a date specifying when it was made; still, you're cute; the first time he sees your face, he's stunned. When did you get that cute?

When he first met you personally, you appeared lonely, shy, and sad. It's like he is witnessing a totally different person on the video. Was his first impression of you mistaken all along? He's ashamed to admit it, but the way he first saw you was one of the reasons he avoided you; he didn't expect to ignore you for the rest of your life though. He feels like a jerk.

"I'm finally going to meet my real dad; I can't believe it's Bruce Wayne as well! I wonder if I'll also meet his sons, or my brothers," you grinned at the camera as you showed around the house. "It's sooo big; I hope I could play hide and seek with them, I love that game"

Dick couldn't help but smile at your grin, which turned into a grimace when he realized they'd never engaged with you properly. He groaned and went to the most recent video. This time, you're older, with heavy circles under your eyes; you appeared exhausted, but you smiled at the camera anyhow.

Candles have laminated the room, and a little cupcake is placed in front of you. And Dick's heart dropped when he spotted the calendar behind you, only 5 months after you taped this, and it was your birthday. Dick remembers spending the weekend at the manor with his siblings and, apparently, everyone else except you. His eyes saddened as you began singing Happy Birthday to yourself. There are cracks between some lines, yet your voice is soulful, even if you appeared soulless at the time. Dick can't help but be impressed by the way your voice sounds in Harmony.

The video ended when tears has finally fallen from your eyes , and dick is a mess; he was sweating, his eyes were dilated, his hair was tangled from how much he was nervously pulling it, and he appeared to have witnessed something horrible. Oh God, his chest is clenching so hard that he can't breathe. He feels like a monster.

He grabbed his phone with shaking hands and searched for you on social media, but there was nothing. There is nothing for websites. There's some humor about you in papers, but whereabouts are you currently There is nothing. And Dick knows that he needs to ask for Bruce's help, your father. Dick is furious with Bruce right now; how could Bruce not be aware that you had moved out? If he did, why didn't Bruce remind him of your presence? Did your father also ignore you?

Do the family knows about your existence here in the manor?

Dick was about to have a panic attack if a notification hadn't appeared unexpectedly. Dick's heart breaks as he receives a text message from an unknown number with a photo of you unconscious and beaten.

(Next chapter)

(A/n: Thank you for all y'all support, I hope you enjoyed reading this🤗💞 and I'm really sorry for the wait, will repeat though 😓🥲 taglist is broken lol )

Taglist: @nosyrobin @dhanyasri @sheepintherain @hasty-desert @m3ntally-unstable @cupids-pretty-boy @bat1212 @illytian @lilyalone @lafemmii @sweetconnoisseurgardener @ch1cky-093 @shycreatorreview @tdickensstuff4 @vanilliona @theblonde777 @purplelady22 @imacollosssaltitan @brrrr-brain-machine-broke @pi1nkl0ver @fantasyhopperhea @caffeinatedvigilantewriter

[goathouse]

[ID: the Supernatural "I love you" meme. The 2nd box reads: "Wayne Brady just came out as pan." End ID.]

Here's the video he posted on tiktok:

[ID: a 32-second tiktok of Wayne Brady, accompanied by 3 dancers, lipsyncing and dancing to "It's All Coming Back To Me Now." He starts the video in a pink bathrobe, then reappears in a pink suit and a long wig. The other dancers wave a rainbow flag. End ID.]

the video description (which doesn't appear with the video outside the tiktok app, annoyingly) says:

As someone who gets to bring joy to others daily on tv, it's been ironic that I don't experience it as much as I'd like. I advocate mental health for all and a part of that is self transparency. In doing my work, I've come to see a few truths, one of them being that I want to be free to l love whomever I want. This truth makes me pan and part of the lgbtq+ family. It's scary as hell to say it out loud but here it is. The people I admire most are the ones brave enough to be themselves unapologetically. This shouldn't shake anyone's world, but if it bothers you at all, that's your business:) I was so afraid of having my manhood questioned, but screw that. A "real man" in my eyes, isn't afraid to be honest and happy. From now on, I'll be over here living my best life. I love you @Mandietaketa @Maile Masako @Jason

[flamingpudding]

(Un)fortunate Courting (Request)

Requested by @silverblueglitter

Original Prompt Post this is based on by @diabolichare

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope this will not disappoint. I am slowly getting back into the grove of writing and out of my block. Also on a side note I am not posting / writing as much right now because work is currently keeping me busy.

Danny was very sure he was doing everything right in regards to ghost culture. Clockwork and Pandora had been educating him very well on that. Sure they did it with some ominous explanation in regards to his future but Danny had shrugged that off. Clockwork had always had a way with words that didn't make sense but somehow did too. Now as he had learned if a ghost wants to cross through another ghosts haunt an offering needs to be made. Ideally the offering is in regards to something the other ghosts likes.

So if he would need, for example, cross through Embers haunt, he would offer her something like guitar strings or something other music related stuff that could be useful to her obsession. With that logic, Danny knew that if he wanted to use the short cut to his collage through Red Hoods haunt he would need to offer the other something. Like he had offered something to Lady Gotham for his stay in Gotham for his collage education. The thing was he would have to offer Red Hood something every time he needed to go through the others haunt, unlike with Lady Gotham who had just accepted a single offer since he wasn't constantly going in and out of her haunt.

But that also left him with what to get the other Halfa as offering.

He had contemplated offering something Red Hood might need for his duty. You know? Maybe some self engineered bullets he could use against ghosts, though Danny knew that was probably unnecessary considering Gotham's protector spirit, Lady Gotham, had a pretty good handle on everything here. Which good, because that meant Danny could fully focused on his studies for once.

That was until Danny realized how much the core of that other Halfa was malnourished. Which gave Danny the perfect chance to catch two ghosts with one thermos, okay bad joke. But seriously, that gave Danny an idea of what to offer for his right of passage through the others haunt. So he made simple care packages that would help the other Halfa. He had thought about supplying some Ecto-Dejecto directly but that felt a little to on the nose and someone who didn't know his family would probably think Danny insane, as if there weren't enough people in his collage thinking that already. Besides he was in Gotham and with villains like Scarecrow and Joker he didn't think a syringe with glowing green contents would be a trustworthy offering.

Anyway, Danny decided to be a bit more discreet, infusing ectoplasm into simple foods, that most importantly, COULD NOT COME ALIVE. So Danny's care packaged ended up consisting of chocolates, snacks and other sweets that would NOT start fighting back. He also figured out how to mix ectoplasm into drinks so it wouldn't taste to overwhelming.

Danny did not anticipate the side effect offerings like that would have or realise what his offerings looked like to someone who did not know about ghost culture.

Jason was torn as he found the n-ed little present box during his patrol route with a little card stating it was for him. He eyed the box having gotten familiar with these boxes over the past month. He lifted the lid and yep.... chocolates.

"Again?" his distorted voice came through his voice modulator as he eyed the chocolates suspiciously. Either he had a very insistent admirer or one of his enemies cooked up a new idea to make him paranoid. Not like his brothers didn't joke about him getting Bruce's paranoia when he had run the sixth box of chocolates through the substance tester to figure out if someone was trying to poison him.

Turned out poison was not in the chocolates but something else. An unknown substance but in small dosages. Jason was currently allowing Tim to run wild in figuring out what was mixed into the chocolates. Also the seasoned vigilante had to admit, that there was something tempting about these sweets. Like something inside him really urged him to eat them. It was only his self-restraint and discipline that helped him resist the urge to taste test some of these chocolates.

Also sometimes there were drink in these packages too. Yes, Jason had run them through the tester too and got the same results like with the sweets and chocolates. No poison but that other strange substance. At first Jason didn't really want to bother with it but these boxes appeared every damn night when he was on patrol, but strangle not on weekend or holidays.

"Oh got another little present, Little Wing!" Jason barely turned around as his older brother dropped onto the roof next to him. "Chocolates this time! How cute! They must really love you!"

Sometimes Jason wished his helmet could portray emotions better as he gave Dick a deadpan stare. "More like wanting to poison me." He muttered his voice changer doing nothing to support the sarcasm in his voice.

"You have to admit it is kind of cute! You have a little fan or admirer! And look these chocolates are even heart shaped! Oh and pralines are in there too!" Dick gushed on about Jason's admirer, while Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet. It would be cute if there wasn't an unknown substance mixed into the stuff left for him. Though he had to admit, whoever left that stuff was getting creative. From what Jason saw they rarely used the same brand of chocolates or sweets to give to him twice. Like they were trying to figure out what he liked. For a brief moment that made Jason wonder, if he actually ate one of these for once, would his admirer present him with the same brand again the next night?

He shock that thought off, no way was he going to eat something with an unknown substance in it. So instead he shoved the box at Dick. "Take that to the cave Dickibird. Gives Pretender more materials to test with."

Dick, to his credit stopped gushing for at that and chuckled. "Can do, but seriously though, what did Oracle say. Did she catch your little admirer on the security cameras at least."

Shaking his head Jason let out a sigh. "No, its like these boxes appear out of nowhere."

"Well at least they are harmless."

"For now." He grunted in response. While they didn't pose a danger, Jason didn't like the implications behind their appearances. For one no matter how much he changed up his patrol routes, these boxes would still appear. There is no video proof of someone placing the boxes. They just appear out of thin air or roofs or his path right when he comes by. If he could believe that the videos that Barbara had showed him weren't manipulated then they just appeared like a couple of seconds before he would find them.

It was suspicious and Jason was determined to find out who leaves them.

Danny hummed his latest earworm song, which happed to be Embers newest hit in the Ghost Zone, as he prepared his next offering to Red Hood. He had thought about leaving these boxes by Red Hoods Safe house during the day on his way to collage but he figured with his own history of being a hero. Secret identities were important and should not be revealed against the others wish.

This time he had gotten the expensive brand of pralines. He hoped Hood would actually like them and eat them hopefully. Danny threaded the moment he would have to try infusing ectoplasm into something other than safe sweets, chocolates and snacks that won't come alive if he didn't find something Hood would eat soon.

The Halfa was so focused on his task of infusing the pralines with ectoplasm that he did not notice the arrival of three of his old ghost rogues, until he got grapped by the collar and throw across his own appartment.

"OW! What the...?!"

"Long Time not seen Pelt." Danny blinked as Skulker stood over him, Ember and Wulf a bit further behind. Wulfs presence explained how the other two managed to show up in his place.

"What are you guys doing here?" He was so not up for a round of ghost body that could potentially destroy his flat.

"Fixing your love life." Ember grinned down at him with Wulf nodding.

"My love life...." Something was definitely wrong. Danny does not remember currently dating anyone. He also didn't have crush, well not a obvious one he thought at least. He was distinctively pushing way that fleeting image of Red Hood out of his mind.

"Yeas your love life Baby Boop." Ember reaffirmed. "Didn't the old ghosts teach you anything. You don't use the human of giving presents when you court a ghost!"

"I... what?" Danny's brain currently really had trouble catching up with what was going on.

"Pelt you need to assert yourself, fight your damn object of attention to proof your worth." Skulker added arms crossed.

"Don't worry we will help you! So you wont fail!" Ember added.

Before Danny could answer or ask what the hell they were going on about though Skulker grabbed him by the back of his collar again and promptly dragged Danny long with him flying out of his flat to who knows where. Distinctive Danny swore he heard laughing that sounded suspiciously like Lady Gotham.

"WAIT SKULKER!" The shout escaped him as his brain finally caught up but before he could go ghost and actually do something he was thrown against someone. Whoever he landed on let out a deep 'oof' that sounded distorted and Danny had a sinking feeling as he hurriedly sat up and came face to face with Red Hood.

"Aw shit...." Danny muttered instantly choosing to turn invisible and hoping that Red Hood had nod seen him long enough to get recognised, worst of all Skulker had dragged him all the way to Hoods haunt when Danny didn't even have an offering! Now he owned Hood two offerings!

"What are you doing Pelt! You are supposed to challenge for the right of courtship first! The courtship presents come later!" Skulker shouted at Danny to which while still invisible Danny choose to flip the other ghost off. Something he would have never done as teen but now that he had come to some sort of understanding with his former rogues was not rare happening, as long as Jazz wasn't there to witness it.

Meanwhile Jason was sitting utterly confused on the roof now, just a moment ago a twig of a man had landed on him and he had seen the other guy for a brief moment before he had disappeared out of nowhere again. He grumbled muttered curses and knew he would have to go though the video footage of his helmet to get a clearer picture of what or rather who had knocked him over.

But he had a feeling it was related to the boxes of sweets and chocolates.

[montagoves]

hungry? | jason todd

summary: you like to bite your boyfriend

warnings: suggestive at the end, very minor mention of sexual content, jason being big and yummy

you and jason have been dating for a while, to the point where it’s comfortable for you to be at each other’s places (mostly yours).

he’s over at your apartment, laying beside you on the bed while you guys watch some reality show you like (a reality show he’s too stubborn to admit he enjoys). you’re both lying on your stomachs, arms propped up as you both watch the show on the small tv in your room.

at some point, you turn your head to look at jason, who’s too focused on pretending to not be invested in the show (he’s failing). with a smile, you admire him for a bit, eyes falling upon each of the features you love about him (all of his features, really).

your eyes especially linger on his arms, which look even bigger now with his hands holding his head up. the muscles move as he shifts slightly, his elbows sinking deeper into the mattress.

jason’s size always got your heart racing, whether it was when he would help you grab something off the top shelf of the pantry (placed there strategically by him so you would ask for help), or when he would push you up against a wall and ravish you to the point of needing him to hold you.

unable to hold back, you lean in, your teeth nibbling at his bicep through the t-shirt he wore.

jason is taken out of the current drama of the show, pausing it (because he cannot miss what happens) and glancing down at you as your mouth latches onto his arm.

“what are you doing, doll?”

“nothing,” you pull away only briefly before pressing a soft kiss where you had bit him. his lips turn up in a small smile, leaning forward and pecking your lips.

wanting more of him, you push up and kiss him back, the sudden gesture making him fall onto his back. you move quickly, straddling him as you continue the kiss.

the kiss only goes on for a few moments before you move your lips away from his, nipping at his jawline, his neck, then his collarbones. you pull his shirt collar down, giving you access to the top of his chest. your teeth continue to nibble on the skin, and jason runs a gentle hand through your hair.

“are you hungry or something? why do you keep biting me?” he asks, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

“do you not like it?” you question, peering up at him only slightly. he shakes his head, tugging lightly on your hair as a means of reassurance.

“no, doll. i do—really, i do. but, why?”

you give him a grin, moving up his body again to peck his lips.

“because… you’re yummy.”

jason hums, guiding your head back to press his lips to yours. a short kiss—but it leaves you both breathless and wanting more.

“well, doll,” he mumbles against your lips, “while i enjoy you biting me… i think i can show you better ways to taste how yummy i am.”

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter Two (of four)

masterpost

Was this guy for real? Jason nearly decided not to get in out of suspicion. Danny was one of the very few loose ends in his crime yesterday. He sort of figured that eventually Batman would find the driver he’d used to get a duffle bag of heads to the police station. He stalled. It had seemed like an acceptable risk, since he hadn’t shown the guy his face. The only information that the police should have been able to get was where he’d left and that he’d used one of his victim’s phones to call for a ride.

And yet Danny was waiting patiently at the curb for the Red Hood to get in. Wasn’t he scared?

He had been all over the news yesterday. Danny had to know.

‘Either he’s dumb as a box or he is one of the chillest people I’ve ever even heard of.’

Morbid curiosity got him into the car. Danny locked the door as soon as the door was shut– but it was clearly routine. He’d done that yesterday, right. Jason waited a moment before he remembered that Danny wasn’t going to pull out until he had his seatbelt on. He let out a laugh and buckled up. It was pretty cute, actually.

Now that he wasn’t so distracted, maybe he could make small talk. Danny pulled them out into the sparse early morning traffic with an expression of determined focus.

Jason cleared his throat. “You moved to Gotham recently?” he started with. Danny didn’t have the local speaking pattern.

Danny nodded. “For school,” he shared easily. “I’m in the sciences program at Gotham U’s south campus.”

…So he wasn’t the world’s biggest dummy. Jason sat there and contemplated how catastrophically chill a body would have to be to chit chat with a man who had killed like 20 people yesterday that he knew of. Why wasn’t Danny scared? What was his damage? 

‘There’s something really wrong with him,’ Jason thought, with no small bit of admiration. Way too late he commented, “That’s cool, man.”

“Thanks.” Danny seemed unbothered by his long delay in conversation. “You know, I had to go to that same police station this morning.”

Jason tensed. Was Danny making some kind of threat?

“They got a whole shitton of muffins and six quiches delivered,” Danny went on. He appeared to feel no sense of danger in the car.

‘Is he… Did he decide to inform on the police to me?’ Jason’s eye twitched. ‘I already knew that I’d have ruined their whole month but… This is kinda satisfying to hear, actually.’ He made a listening sound to prompt Danny to continue. He couldn't lie; he was intrigued.

“Yeah, they looked like total shit.” Danny was so blithe about it that it became surreal and hilarious. “Exhausted. But that’s not my business.” He crinkled up his nose. “Do you know what they tipped me for that?” He didn’t wait for Jason to go on. “Two dollars.” He made a big gesture with his left hand that took it off the steering wheel despite the fact they were mid turn. “That’s ridiculous! I drove halfway across town, waited for the place to open, carried an absurd amount up those stairs, and for two dollars.” He blew a disrespectful raspberry.

“Fuck the police,” Jason said sympathetically. 

Aight. He saw how it was. He mentally tabulated what was in his wallet and allocated a cool thirty dollars to Danny as a tip. For an informant, that was as cheap as bagged rice. Helluva value. He leaned back in the seat and it squeaked under his weight. “How’s Gotham been treating you?”

“Fine, fine,” Danny said absently. He switched lanes a little too abruptly. “Not that different from home, honestly. I don’t know why people are so dramatic about it.” He floored it to squeak through a yellow light.

Jason had the dawning suspicion that Danny had been on his best driving behavior yesterday. But- “Where is home?” It was more morbid curiosity. He kind of regretted that he was nearly to his stop. 

“Amity Park. Illinois.”

Jason winced. “My condolences.”

Danny laughed, high and sort of eerie now that Jason was really listening to it. It sent an  electric zing up his spine. “That’s what they always say.” He seemed to find it really funny. Way funnier than it should have been.

‘...What are the odds that this guy is one of the weird mutants they make in Amity?’ Jason resisted the urge to ask prying questions. Talia had told him to stay the fuck out of that area so that she didn’t have to rescue him from a government black site. It wasn’t his business and he didn’t have the luxury of the time to go and investigate every cute boy with a nice laugh who wanted to be an informant to the Red Hood.

It was with extreme regret that Jason recognized his stop coming up. He let out a sigh. The voice scramblers in his hood turned it to static. He watched the curb approach with disappointment. Danny made to pull in next to a dark shop. Jason glanced into the windows and caught the reflection of the last person he wanted to see. 

“Batmobile.” He sat up straight, alarmed. It was parked out of sight in an alley. Shit. Shit, of course Batman had tracked back the delivery driver that had brought him to the police building. Fuck. How was he going to get away on foot-

Danny jerked back into the street and hit the pedal to the floor. The engine made a scream of machine fear but holy hell did it accelerate. Jason yelled too and grabbed onto the door handle. He aimed wide eyes at Danny, uncomprehending. 

“Fuck Batman!” Danny yelled out his open window, and they were off.

Holy shit. Holy shit!

The batmobile turned on, the normally silent engine’s purr rearing up to a threatening growl as Bruce veered out onto the street in pursuit.

Danny took them down an alley and Jason sharply readjusted his assessment of Danny’s intelligence. “We can’t fit!” He yelled, trying to pull the brake. If they had to stop in the alley it was all over, Batman would block them off.

Danny slapped his hand away and barreled-

Jason blinked as they raced down the impossibly narrow alleyway. He bit his lip. He looked at the car again, recalculating.

No. No, it definitely didn’t fit. He leaned a little away from the window, extremely uncomfortable. He looked at just the right time to see the passenger mirror collide with a dumpster and slide through undeterred.

Ah. Alright, then. He made a “Fair enough” face and turned around to see that the batmobile was lifting up and doing some weird transformers bullshit to fit down the alleyway. They were gaining ground from Batman. “Sorry I tried to touch the controls,” Jason said, a bit late. He glanced down and realized that his hand stung where Danny had slapped it. He pulled it to his chest and rubbed at it, frowning slightly.

“No worries,” Danny said tersely. He hit the breaks and raked the wheel car to make a fucking pinpoint turn without slowing. Just like that, they were out of Batman’s direct line of sight. A solid inch of the inside of the car overlapped with a folding chair outside someone’s home.

Jason eyed Danny judgmentally.

“Wow, that was a close fit,” Danny said, extremely unconvincing. “We are lucky, huh.” He aimed the car at a wall and somehow ramped up. 

‘I think I might be sick.’

Jason decided that the best thing for him to do right now was to close his eyes and say nothing at all. If Danny wanted plausible deniability for his mutant powers, that was whatever. 

‘How did Batman know where I was going?’ He worked through the problem. ‘Did he hack Danny’s account? If not, someone sold me out.’

Just like that, Jason had a list of people to visit for the day. “D’you think you could drop me off at C street instead?” He felt the uncomfortable swooping sensation in his stomach that indicated they’d made some kind of move that should not exist off of a rollercoaster.

“Yeah, of course, sorry about this.” Danny sounded a little breathless. “Ah- don’t look.” He cackled.

…’He’s dodging Batman for his benefit, not mine,’ the penny dropped. Jason laughed out loud and then leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Danny was the perfect man. They drove for a while in silence before Jason managed to collect himself. “No worries,” he said through tears. “Hey, no sweat if it’s no, but can I get your number?”

Danny paused.

Oh, fuck. Jason cringed. “I'll leave mine and you can call me if you ever need me,” he corrected hastily. “No pressure.” He scribbled it on the back of a loose receipt in Danny's cupholder and left it, mortified but also glad he shot his shot.

[misdeliria]

Jason visited you a lot at night. He never arrived as himself, always disguising himself with the red helmet and voice modulator, but you knew it was him.

Jason, the same awkward, prideful boy you knew in middle school, liked visiting you late at night. Some nights, you wouldn't even see him – too tired from your day and falling asleep too early – but you knew he'd dropped by from the packaged food containers in your fridge.

The first time he left food at your place, you had been offended.

"I don't need you dropping by and bringing me food. I don't need your charity," you stubbornly rejected.

"You could do with some of it," he answered nonchalantly. It had the opposite effect of placating you, leading to you storming into your room where he wouldn't follow you.

Jason didn't want you to know who he was under the helmet, but he couldn't stop you from taking guesses.

"You've been looking better out there," you say offhandedly one night. Jason is leaning against the rustic railing of your fire escape, admiring you swaddled in a blanket on your windowsill.

"Keeping tabs on me, sweetheart?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you seem to be in a better mood lately," you passively ignore his comment. "Haven't seen you under any spotlight on the news."

"Someone doesn't like it when I take out the bad guys my way."

You sigh, hugging the blanket tighter as a brisk wind rushes you.

"It's good to see you again, Jason," you murmur over the city sounds, but Jason's helmet mutes out the noises so he can hear you perfectly. He flinches at his name coming out of your mouth, but he doesn't move from the railing.

There's no asking how you know it was him because before he can get a word out, you're telling him,

"It's nice to know I made as big an impact on you as you did to me," you say somberly. "And when you left, I figured I wouldn't see you again, so- It's just really good to see you." You're choking up at the end, avoiding looking up at him and having two slits of light glow back at you.

You remember his eyes the most. How bright his blue eyes would shine like diamonds whenever he smiled.

[julsvu]

mornings with the seven

fluff, gn! reader, not proofread

jason will always find himself holding onto you tightly, before or after sleep. he makes sure you're completely warm in his arms, and indulges in the feeling of your warmth lingering on his muscles, that tense ever so slightly whenever you make the slightest movement that'd indicate you're moving away from him. cuddles with him feels like cuddling a huge plushie. he greets you with a soft good morning, kissing you on the forehead before asking how was your sleep, his morning voice deep.

with percy, you find yourself with dozens of kisses sprinkled all over your face before you both go to sleep. in the morning, he'd admire your resting face while his fingers string into your soft hair. he adores waking up with the smell of your shampoo lingering just beneath his nose. he wakes you up with a cheeky grin on his face, asking you if you'd like to watch the sunrise with him. but, before watching the sunrise, you'd have to help him cook blue pancakes. every month, sally gives him a new recipe, or rather, a new variant for blue pancakes, and this boy always insists to try them with you first and foremost.

frank has similar cuddling habits to jason. he'll wrap his limbs around you as long as you're comfortable with him doing it, almost suffocating you (in a good way, he swears). he isn't aware of it, but his hands shapeshift into a cat's paw and makes biscuits on you whenever he's too comfortable in his sleep. he invites you to have a small breakfast date once you wake up, greeting you with a warm squeeze of affection.

leo has his limbs entangled with yours, before and after sleeping. his face will always be buried into your shoulder or neck; your scent makes him relax far too much to the point of sleepiness, hence, he'd make excuses to cuddle with you no matter the place or time. he wakes you up with countless of kisses littered upon your face, and a grin paints over his lips once he sees you flutter awake, before he tells you what he had dreamt about. (his dreams somehow always involve you.)

annabeth is big on spooning. she wouldn't mind being a little spoon, but, she prefers to be the big spoon since it feels like she's protecting you, even at times of rest. she memorizes your sleep patterns; maybe she's been hanging out with you too much, and she ends up waking up at the same time as you. however, she never fails to remind you to take care of your sleeping schedule, as she brushed your morning bed hair with a small smile lingering on her lips.

hazel falls asleep holding your hand, most of the time. hazel, like annabeth, would subconsciously memorize your sleep patterns. but, unlike annabeth, she'd wake up before you. she swears that she's grown a sixth sense for her dear lover, as she greets you with breakfast in bed. she loves getting away from everything and staying with you; especially if she gets to play with your hair while you spoonfeed each other breakfast.

piper makes sure you've got everything out of your system before sleeping beside you. she never lets you fall asleep angry, or sad, no matter the reason. she holds you closely to her as you ramble to her. one half of her is listening, while the other half is admiring the way your lips seem so kissable. when you fall asleep from venting out your feelings, she kisses your forehead, already thinking of the things she can do tomorrow morning to cheer you up.

© 2024 JULSVU. all rights reserved. please don't plagiarize, translate, put in other websites or copy my work without permission. ty!

[mixingandmelting]

Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

 It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes. 

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back- 

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration and warmth from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing.  He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence.  The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which obviously ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge. 

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, especially when he feels the grip on his arm tightening rather than the opposite. He doesn’t need to turn around to see what expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?” 

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure  that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy. 

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo. 

Finally, he  gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number. 

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?” 

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.” 

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote and slid to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, sliding them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city. 

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground. 

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further. 

“Are they making you happy?”  Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind. 

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense. 

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist. 

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.” 

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 13

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 12

Robin calls the Harrington house twenty-three times that night; no one answers. She gets desperate enough as she paces the length of her living room waiting for the phone to ring, that she asks her dad for the phone book, hands shaking as she looks for Munson. It’s unlisted, of course.

She thinks about looking up Jeff, but to her embarrassment, can’t think of his last name.

She’s too nervous to look for “Cunningham,” afraid equally that she’ll answer and not have seen Steve, or that she won’t answer at all. 

She calls Steve’s house again; he doesn’t pick up.

She’s tired enough the next morning to be tempted to stay home sick, but she drags herself out to the bus anyway, too worried about Steve to miss a chance at seeing him. He’s not there, but she doesn’t want to walk home, and there’s no bus back to her house until the end of the day.

Plus, there’s Chrissy and Jeff, who might know something she doesn’t. They’d been at Steve’s side before her; he might call one of them where he wouldn’t pick up for her, no matter how much that thought burns.

She catches Chrissy between sixth and seventh period, snags her wrist and drags her into the girl’s bathroom—is this her thing now? Please don’t let it be her thing.

“Robin?” Chrissy asks, eyes big and worried in her face once Robin’s dutifully checked all the stalls for eavesdroppers before turning back to Chrissy and letting the whole situation pour out of her mouth.

It goes something like this: “Jason, he—with Eddie, you know?” she says, raking her hands through her hair as she begins pacing the bathroom. “And then I told Steve, and maybe I shouldn’t have? Because he’s not here today! What if he—and it’s my fault!”

Chrissy snags Robin’s wrist, and her whole brain goes quiet as she stops suddenly enough that her sneakers squeak against the dirty linoleum.

“Slow down,” Chrissy demands, grip hard on Robin’s wrist as she uses it to turn her around to face Chrissy once more. “Start from the beginning. What did Jason do?”

Robin’s breath shudders—that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? What did Jason do? But Chrissy’s staring her down, so Robin takes a few deep breaths, and starts again.

“Jason followed Eddie’s van out of the school, and I told Steve,” she says all in one breath, hoping Chrissy can understand her. “And now neither of them are in school.”

Chrissy’s frowning at her, and Robin’s gut curdles at the look.

Like she always does when she’s nervous and there’s a lull in a conversation, she just keeps talking. “Do you think he did something to them?” she asks, bringing her free hand up to her lips to bite the nails there. “Steve could take him, right?”

Chrissy doesn’t answer, brow furrowed, eyes hard. Before Robin can babble herself into another freak-out, Chrissy turns on her heel and walks out of the bathroom, dragging Robin along by the hold she has on her wrist.

“Where are we going?” Robin whispers, glancing around the empty hallway like Principal Higgins will jump out of a shadowy corner and slap them with expulsion charges.

Chrissy doesn’t answer. Before Robin can work herself into a tizzy over the silence, Chrissy stops in front of one of the closed classroom doors and knocks before pulling it open.

Robin freezes, eyes wide as she ducks down to hide behind Chrissy.

“Hi, Mr. Mundy!” she says cheerfully. “Sorry for the interruption, but can I borrow Jason for just a minute?”

“What the fuck!” Robin whispers, staring at the back of Chrissy’s head, waiting for Mr. Mundy to call them on their bullshit.

The thing is, it works. Mr. Mundy sends Jason out without any follow-up questions—is this what it’s like to be head cheerleader?

For his part, Jason’s smiling like butter wouldn’t melt as he closes the classroom door softly behind him.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up?” he asks, smile only dropping as he catches sight of Robin peeking out from behind her. “Who’s your friend?”

“What did you do to Steve and Eddie?” Chrissy demands, voice firm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies, all levity having fled from his face.

Chrissy scoffs, finally dropping her hold on Robin’s wrist to plant her hands on her own hips. “I know you followed Eddie after school yesterday,” she replies, taking a threatening step forward. Determined to support her, Robin finally stands up straight, crossing her arms and glaring, hoping Jason doesn’t notice how her hands are shaking. “And I know Steve followed you both, and now no one’s seen either of them all day.”

She jabs Jason in the chest, hard enough that he stumbles back a bit as she asks, “what did you do?” She’s at least four inches shorter than him, but suddenly, she seems larger than life. Because Jason? He grimaces, cringing into the classroom’s door like she’s a threat.

Robin’s traitorous heart rata-tat-tat-tat’s in her chest.

“Okay!” he whispers, hands outstretched, looking furtively around himself for witnesses. “I didn’t touch Harrington.”

He sneers Steve’s name like it’s a curse. It rubs Robin all wrong, and by the way Chrissy takes another threatening step toward him, it must hit her the same.

“I didn’t!” Jason says, putting his hands up toward them as if to prove he’s weaponless. Robin knows better. “But Munson got what was coming to him.”

He’s got that same hard look in his eyes as when he’d followed Eddie in the first place. Robin shudders, imagining all the ways that hate could be turned on Eddie’s vulnerable body. She doesn’t know him well, but Steve cares about him, and no one deserves something like this.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Chrissy asks again, teeth gritted as she grunts out each word.

“You should be thanking me!” he sneers, looking down on her in a way that makes Robin furious. “I heard you talking in the library.”

Robin shoots a look at Chrissy and sees surprise on her face, but not confusion. Whatever this is about, she already knows about it.

“You went after Eddie because he was going to ask me out?” she demands, more furious than Robin’s ever seen her. Her hair’s damn-near flying, and she looks like Medusa more than her usual cheerleader archetype. Robin only falls harder as she jabs her pointer finger into Jason’s chest and asks, “what did you do to him?”

Jason takes another step back, smacking his head into the door behind him. “I just roughed him up a bit!” he whispers, eyes still wide. “Your new boyfriend’s fine. For now.”

And he’s back to snarling, a feral dog off its leash. Chrissy doesn’t back down. She shores her shoulders up, spine straight, chin tilted up as she replies, “if you touch either of them again, I’ll kill you.”

She sounds so serious that for a second, Robin believes her. By the way Jason’s Adam’s apple bobs, he does too.

Without another word, Chrissy turns on her heel and strides away. Robin scrambles after her, looking back at Jason every couple steps to make sure he doesn’t pull anything.

When they turn the corner and he’s out of sight, Robin takes a few running steps forward to walk beside Chrissy. “Now what?” she asks.

“Now, we wait,” she replies, head still held at that royal angle that makes her throat look even longer than normal. “And once class ends, Jeff and I will go to band practice. Unless he’s dead, there’s no way he won’t show up.”

Robin bites her lip. “What if he doesn’t show?” Robin asks.

“He will,” Chrissy says, an implied or else left dangling at the end of her statement. “But if he doesn’t, we’ll show up at his house and check on him.”

Robin stews, something bitter and afraid churning in her stomach as Chrissy walks on, damn-near forgetting her entirely. As if she wasn’t the one to tell Chrissy that something was even wrong. As if she wasn’t friends with Steve, too.

But she knows when Chrissy uses the word “we,” it doesn’t mean Robin. So, she says, “if you find Steve, could you ask him to call me?”

Chrissy stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to Robin with a furrowed brow. Robin feels her heartbeat ratchet up again, blood pooling into her cheeks. “Or, maybe you could call me? If he can’t, or if you don’t find him, or if he’s busy.”

Chrissy’s still just staring—Robin bites her lip against all the words that want to come out. “I’m just worried,” she rushes out, unable to abide by the quiet.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh!” Robin replies. “Uh—”

All higher brain functions having fled at the soft look in Chrissy’s eyes, Robin frantically feels around in her backpack for a pen. Then somehow, inexplicably, she’s writing her phone number on Chrissy’s bare forearm, marking up that creamy white flesh with her messy handwriting.

Her skin’s warm beneath the shaking hand Robin’s using to hold her forearm steady. Robin’s cheeks could start a forest fire as she dots the i on her own name as she writes it above her phone number—as if Chrissy will ever forget this uncomfortable moment.

Robin holds onto her a second longer than necessary—looking down at her own marks on Chrissy’s skin before she drops it abruptly. Chrissy keeps it in the air for a moment before letting her arm swing back to her side.

“Thanks, Robin,” she says, and when Robin finally looks up at her, she’s smiling, none the wiser to the big gay moment Robin was just having. “I’ll make sure he calls you.”

“Uh, yeah!” Robin squeaks. “Thanks. Thank you?”

Chrissy laughs, finally turning around and making her way to her next class. “Bye, Robin.”

“Bye!” Robin calls.

Steve better call her, and soon. Screw Eddie, she’s got a whole lot to unpack here, and no one else to do it with.

***

Eddie’s already ten minutes late to band practice; so is Steve.

“I’m telling you, something’s wrong!” Jeff says, all heated as he paces Gareth’s garage.

“Didn’t he get too high last Monday, and not go to school because he thought it was Sunday?” Chrissy asks, trying to cheer everyone up.

It doesn’t work.

She’s not any better. She’d been so sure that no matter what had happened, Eddie would come to band practice. Jeff had agreed when she’d caught him up on the situation, so here they are, stewing in anxiety the longer the clock ticks on.

Still, she’s a little charmed by the way Eddie’s entire band is crumbling without him—does he even know how integral he is?

“That’s school, though,” Gareth replies, twirling one of his drumsticks nervously between his fingers as he stares at the open garage door like Eddie will walk through any second. “He cares about the band.”

Behind him, Doug nods his support, clutching onto the strings of his instrument hard enough that she’s surprised they haven’t snapped. It’s sweet, really, the way they all care, but no matter what all the boys around her seem to think, Eddie couldn’t be punctual with a watch strapped to both his wrists and each of his ankles for good measure.

She’s his friend, but faultless, the boy is not.

Still, Jeff’s eyebrows are all pinched, and this practice is dead on arrival so she asks, “why don’t we wait a few minutes to make sure we don’t just miss him, and then I can drive you over to check on him?” while looking Jeff’s way.

After token protests from Doug and Gareth, waylaid by Jeff’s promise to call after, they wait a long five minutes before she corrals him into the passenger seat of her car and heads toward the trailer park. In deference to Jeff’s dour mood, she turns her Blondie tape on low.

But, she’s still in the car with the man of her dreams, so she reaches over the center console and settles her palm on his thigh with a squeeze. Jeff places his own hand over hers squeezing her fingers but otherwise not protesting.

She could’ve never done any of this with Jason, who found even the most minor of things emasculating. He would’ve rather walked than let her drive him somewhere, much less put her hand on his thigh. It was his job to put his hand on her thigh, didn’t she know?

Chrissy finds she likes it this way a lot better. She likes driving Jeff home from school after Hellfire, she likes carrying his books sometimes when she can get away with it.

She likes that he lets her.

It’s not a long drive—Jeff leaps out of her car almost before it’s in park, and Chrissy scrambles to keep up.

Jeff doesn’t even knock, just opens the door. Chrissy hesitates on the threshold, her mother’s teachings squirming within her at showing up uninvited, empty-handed, barging in.

But then Jeff inhales sharply and asks, “did Carver do all that?” and all thoughts of propriety fly right out of her head.

She steps through the open front door, shutting it gently behind her. Only then does she peer around Jeff’s shoulders. Eddie’s curled up on the couch, a bag of peas pressed to his bruised face, lip split straight down the middle.

He waves, smiling lazily like nothing’s wrong at all. “Come to join the party?”

As if to punctuate Eddie’s absurd question, a door opens and suddenly, there Steve is, looking unhurt, if a bit tired. He stops right outside the door, eyes widening as he catches sight of them. “Oh,” he says, rubbing the back of his head, cheeks tinting red with what looks like embarrassment. “Hey.”

“What happened?” Chrissy asks, an echo of Jeff’s own words, gaze still trained on Steve.

Eddie scoffs, drawing her line of sight back to him just to watch him somehow curling himself into an even smaller ball before hissing like it hurts and straightening back up.

“You’re boyfriend got me,” he replies, something mean in his voice.

Chrissy looks at Jeff first, eyes wide before she remembers: she’s supposed to be dating Steve. For his part, Steve looks uncomfortable where he’s loitering across the trailer.

“What?” Chrissy squeaks out, smacking her hand over her mouth in shock. “Steve wouldn’t—”

Eddie stands suddenly enough that Chrissy stops talking without prompting. He throws his hands up in exasperation, dropping them immediately to clutch at his ribs. “Not that one,” he cries, voice cracking with pain.

Chrissy’s fingers are tingling. She bunches them up at her sides, a thread of violence coursing through her voice as she says, “Oh, right. Jason.”

Eddie scoffs, wincing again as his split lip drips down his chin.

Jeff, clearly fed up with watching his best friend inflict further pain on himself, rushes forward and pulls up Eddie’s shirt, prying his fingers off when he tries to hold it down. There’s a big, purpling bruise along the line of his ribs, another smaller one lower on his stomach.

Finally succeeding in slapping Jeff’s hands away, Eddie slumps back into the couch, pouting up at Jeff like this is all just a joke. Like he’s not black and blue. “Stop it, prince charming over there already took care of it.” He throws a careless thumb over his shoulder at Steve. “Not the knight in shining armor I would’ve chosen.”

This, he directs toward Chrissy, batting his eyelashes flirtatiously at her. Behind him, Steve’s recently-flushed cheeks drain to an off-white as the comment lands. He shuffles into the living room proper, slumping down on the couch as far away from Eddie as he can, entire body pointed away like that’ll keep him from being notice. 

Her hands clench harder.

She’s never been a violent person, but seeing that look on her best friend’s face makes her desperate, suddenly, for a target she could actually hit. But it’s Eddie inflicting the pain—stupid, sweet Eddie who doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Jeff sighs.

“Um,” is all she gets out, voice high with discomfort.

There’s a sitcom concept here somewhere: a cheerleader trapped in an enclosed space with her boyfriend, the boy she’s pretending to date who likes the boy who likes her, because she’s pretending to in order to protect the boy who likes him. Oh yeah, and her ex-boyfriend beat up the boy who likes her who she’s pretending to like.

It’s muddled enough they’d need a diagram for the pitch meeting just to have a chance of keeping it all straight.

Eddie’s still looking at her, big cow eyes all wide and earnest, so she says, “I’m sorry?” and he laughs.

“It’s not your fault your ex-boyfriend is the worst person alive.”

Jeff snorts, but the moment of levity drops when Eddie continues with a muttered, “not that your taste has improved much.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy cuts in, voice dangerous as she looks past him to her best friend’s drooping expression. 

“Sorry!” Eddie replies, throwing his hands in the air as he smiles up at her. “But I would kick myself for years if I didn’t take my shot.”

And with that, Eddie gets up off the couch; it looks painful, he grimaces as his ribs straighten and clutches at his wrist. Steve partially raises from his seat, arms open like he might have to catch Eddie. But Eddie makes it up from his seat, and is out of the room in seconds.

Steve slumps down into the couch, and Chrissy burns—at Jason, at Eddie, at the whole goddamn world for the look on his face.

It gets worse when Eddie reenters the room because there, clutched in his hand, is a familiar style of folded letter with a familiar script on it, but instead of Secret Admirer, it just says Chrissy.

“I was going to just leave this for you,” Eddie says, smiling sheepishly as he holds it out to her, “but Carver waylaid my plans so.”

Eddie shrugs before wincing and lowering his shoulders. He shakes the letter at her again, still inexplicably smiling, as if Jeff hasn’t gone stiff beside her, and Steve hasn’t withered away enough to damn-near disappear

Chrissy takes the letter.

Chrissy,

I’m sorry for not being up front with you. I was just afraid, but not anymore. I don’t want you to think you’re not good enough for me because baby, you’re everything. Every word you write on the page means everything to me. You have to know that.

I can’t imagine this year without you in it. You’ve brightened my days far more than you could ever know. I want the chance to do the same for you. I want to get you flowers, and show up at your door with my hair combed just right. I want to hold your hand at the drive-in.

If you want that, too, I’ll pick you up this Friday. They’re showing Romancing the Stone, my treat.

Hopefully Yours,

Eddie

P.S. You don’t have to “be better,” baby. I just want you to be you. That will always be enough for a guy like me.

It’s devastating. Chrissy’s eyes trace the page, brain ticking away against a problem with no solution. It’s not fair to say yes, not when it’s not just her heart on the line, but all four of them, primed for breaking.

She doesn’t look up at Steve, can’t bear to see whatever’s on his face.

“Obviously you were supposed to find the letter in the atlas,” Eddie says, and when she looks up at him, he’s got a piece of hair held up over his own lips, face gone a light pink with an embarrassed blush. “But this is me asking if—if you want to go out. With me. To the drive-in?”

Chrissy swallows, throat suddenly dry, unable to find the words to fix this. The longer the silence goes on, the wider and wetter his eyes get. She feels like the hunter who shot Bambi. She has to say something.

“She didn’t write the secret admirer letters.” Steve’s voice rings out, sure and steely, through the trailer. Eddie sits up straighter, eyes still trained on her. She barely notices, gaze stuck to Steve, whose face has gone somehow paler, and is tinged with a greenish hue, like he’s going to be sick.

“Steve—“ Chrissy starts.

“I did.”

PART 14

[cherrybr4t]

bloody bar — choi seungcheol (m)

pic cr. pinterest!

pairing: bar owner!seungcheol x fem!reader

about: tis’ that time of the year—seungcheol’s love for halloween translates into him going the extra mile, to bring in fresh faces into his bar in town.

warnings: smut, the world sl*t, smoking (reader), jason voorhees mentioned, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), oral (m.rec), fingering, slight brat taming, praising, creampie, tit playing

wc: 4.2k

—

As quoted in Mean Girls, halloween is the one night a year when a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it. Cady has never been more right, you think to yourself as you walk down the busy streets downtown, hand in hand with your other two friends—Yuki and Mona.

Surprisingly, this year, you three are not the exception, clad in sexy renditions of your favourite movie characters. You being Gogo Yubari—but with a tiny skirt and a shirt that seems to be barely holding itself together, Yuki being Mia Wallace, and Mona a ghost bride that keeps attracting the gazes of drunk teens.

Each of you on your second can of highball, arms locked together tightly as you three trudged down the streets to find the bar where the rest of the group is waiting at. Nothing like pre-gaming before the actual pre-game.

“Fuck, I need to pee.” Yuki whines as she downs her remaining highball before throwing away her empty can. A groan rumbles from Mona, which causes you to chuckle. “Looks like there’s a toilet up front over there,” you pondered, trying to get a better look at the building in front of you.

“Let’s go let’s go—I think the bar is somewhere here anyways,” Yuki pulls both of you to cross the road with her, briefly checking on google maps which she has had open for the past 20 minutes.

The building in front of you welcomes the group of you with an open foyer, and you notice the rows of neon lights across every floor of the building, each spelling out the names of different bars that seem to be booming with business.

“Fuck, I can’t hold it in any longer,” Yuki barely finishes her sentence before running off to the restroom at the end of the foyer. You finish up your can along with Mona, before deciding to light up a stick with her while waiting for Yuki.

Meet us at level 3, there’s an open smoking area here.

You light up a stick for yourself as well as for Mona, seeking comfort in the warmth down your system, in contrast to the cold night. Leaning against the wall, your eyes run through the bar fronts staggered on this level, admiring the amount of effort they took to showcase their halloween decorations.

While scanning, your eyes meet a rather...menacing one. A person with a Jason Voorhees mask is staring right at you, leaning against the parapet directly opposite you, while waving what looks like a fake decorative knife—as if saying hi.

You furrow your eyebrows, ignoring the slight scare you felt when you saw the mystery person wave at you. One thing about you—as much as you enjoy the theatrics of being out and about during halloween, you were definitely not the biggest fan of horror movies—especially ones with killing themes where the murderer is hiding behind a sinister mask. (read: Friday the 13th)

You look away, puffing out towards the sky before listening to Mona complain about her recent internship project.

“Hey,”

A deep voice muttered. While you knew it definitely could not be Yuki, nor were you particularly interested in entertaining anyone tonight, somehow your inner instinct brought it upon you to turn to the source of the voice.

The minute your eyes lay upon the man in a black suit next to you—you let out a yelp, jumping slightly and dropping your diminishing stick.

“Holy fuck,” you uttered, hands soothing yourself by patting your chest area. A loud chuckle erupts beside you and you just know Mona is intrigued by this mysterious man appearing beside you two.

The mask looks way more eerie and daunting up close, you can’t help but take a step back—stepping on your dropped cigarette at the same time. He chuckles, and continues to wave his knife while looking at you.

Mona speaks up, letting the man know how sick his costume is, and whatever he utters next gets muffled by your loud thoughts.

Fight or Flight. This is a stupid predicament to be even thinking about fighting or flighting—it’s halloween for goodness sakes. You’re bound to meet 20 more people with the same spooky masks, but at this very moment, you’re not liking the attention from this “killer”.

Flight it is. You grab onto Mona’s hand tightly before dragging her towards the toilet at level 3. Panting as you shut the door to the women’s toilet, you hastily pick up your phone to text Yuki about the change in meeting location.

“Y/N, calm down, it’s just a man in a scary mask that’s all,” Mona giggles as she takes in your slightly frightened state. You roll your eyes, shrugging her off, “and you—will definitely die first in a horror movie.”

“Hey! That’s offensive—we know the first one to die will be—.”

“Guys! I’m right, the bar is actually in this building, on this level actually,” Yuki bursts into the toilet, waving her phone excitedly with a bounce.

Mona looks over at me, smirking before holding onto both of us, “Let the night begin,”.

—

The bloody bar. What an apt name, especially for halloween season.

You squeeze through the crowd on the dance floor before finding the table where your friends are situated at. Loud cheers erupt from the table before they usher you to get more drinks to reach their state of high.

“I’ll go fetch us some drinks—cherry vodka?” Mona and Yuki nod eagerly before holding onto your belongings so you can carry the drinks over.

With the music pumping you up, you made your way to the bar at the back, smiling at strangers along the way—stopped by a girl dressed as The Bride, insisting that you both had to get a picture together.

After some quick snaps, you finally found yourself in front of the bar, alongside a few others waiting for their drink top-ups.

“3 cherry vodka’s please!”

“Coming right up!”

Leaning your elbows on the marbled counter, you hum along to the music playing while tapping your card to the beat.

“Why’d you run away so quickly Gogo?” That familiar baritone runs a chill down your spine and you turn to your right, only to see the same man waving the same plastic knife in your face.

“Well, quick tip. If you wanna hold a conversation, maybe not wave a knife in their face?” You snap back, effects of the mask starting to wear off with the alcohol making its way through your veins.

He chuckles, before tucking away the knife behind him.

“My bad, can I have a do-over with you, pretty?” He reaches out a hand in your direction, which you narrow your eyes at. He wiggles his fingers, urging you to go for it.

Hesitantly, you place your hands in his, eager to be done with just a quick shake of hands. But he’s faster, as he lifts his mask up a little, bringing your knuckles to his lips as he settles a soft kiss upon them.

“This outfit doing a thing on you?” You can’t help but bite back at this man—though he’s done nothing wrong, except looking like a nightmare you may have had after watching Friday the 13th.

“More so the pretty woman that’s in it, rather than the costume itself—though I must say, I don’t remember Gogo looking this…bewitching.” He tilts his head, and you see a hint of his eyes behind the mask.

You snort out a chuckle, “And I don’t remember Jason being this friendly,”

“Only to people he likes, and fortunately for you, you’ve caught his eye,” he leans in closer, and you sniff a hint of bergamot and vanilla.

“Fortunately? I need to be further convinced,” you hum, starting to warm up with the warm banter. You were always a sucker for straightforward guys anyway.

With a swift movement, he removes his mask completely, hands ruffling through his locks to fix his hair.

You were stunned—to say the least. The man in front of you had the prettiest eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer he looked at you, with the prettiest cherry lips and goodness—his dimples. His dimples that seemed to be screaming out to you, to poke a finger in them.

“Seungcheol,” his dimples make an appearance yet again.

You cleared your throat, “Y/N”. You swear you saw a flash of something in his eyes as you uttered your name to the gorgeous man in front of you.

“Y/N… let me get those drinks for you, yeah?” Before you could protest, he makes a few gestures towards the bartender, before grabbing the drinks and bringing them over to your table for you.

Raising your eyebrows, you scurry nearer to catch up to him, “You’re here often?” You could only assume by the way he has a tab open here, and by judging the chummy behaviour with the bartender earlier.

“Mmm, not quite…sometimes,” he shouts over the music that gets louder nearing the tables and dance floor. Handing over your drinks to you and your friends, words get stuck down his throat as your friends pull you away to the dance floor.

“I’ll catch you later!” You push away the feeling of disappointment, knowing he’ll be around anyway.

Drinks in your hands, you sway along to the music, pulling up with your favorite dance moves with your friends. Throughout, you feel a certain someone’s gaze on you, and with a sneaky glance towards the bar, you see seungcheol leaning on his back, arms crossed with his eyes unabashedly drilling holes in your face.

With an audience, you start to feel a little more bold, swaying your hips in his direction, letting your short skirt flap around, giving him a little show to gape at.

The feeling of being under his watchful eye makes your heart beat along to the bass on the dance floor, and you can’t help but revert your gaze back to him every 5 minutes.

Once he notices you taking a break, downing some water on an empty table, he makes his way towards you. Noticing him, you send him a saccharine smile as he leans down, “Care for a dance? Seems like your friends are busy,” his lips grazed your ear slightly.

Fuck what you said earlier—you could entertain people tonight, especially if it’s a handsome stranger though sent to you in a sinister way initially.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod before walking towards the dance floor, looking back at him, only to catch him entranced by your ass already.

You roll your eyes playfully, before catching his gaze. Giggling, you made a come hither motion towards him and he swears his heart is about to pour out in the middle of the dance floor.

—

He’s seen countless people swimming in and out of his bar, but he’s never encountered anyone as enchanting as you. He thinks he’s sick to his stomach at the wave of excitement and rush you bring to him—just by looking at him.

Seungcheol holds you close, and for someone who believes you can’t find love on the dance floor with musty smells and sticky bodies, he seems to be under a spell—one casted by you unknowingly.

He’d thought he lost a chance when you ran away from his initial approach—but when you strutted into his bar, he had a sudden gyration about the idea of fate.

“Thought I’d never have the chance to see you again, pretty. Can’t lie—when you ran away from me earlier, broke my heart a little,” he can’t help his mouth from expressing how glad he is to be dancing with you right now.

“Can’t blame me—it was kinda creepy, Jason’s not high up in my list of celebrity crushes,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giggling. “And, I’m here right now so—I’d say you have the last laugh,”

“Thanking every God I know for bringing you back to me, feels like Gogo was meant to end up in Jason’s arms tonight huh,” Cheol doesn’t know what’s wrong with him and why he’s appearing like a desperate 20 year old in front of you but, all he knows is that the feeling is mutual.

“Was I?” You start to lean closer, lips barely on his neck and he’s afraid you’d notice how quick his heart rate is right now.

“Don’t do this often but, I’d really like to show you, pretty,” he holds your chin up to look into your eyes.

—

The ride back to seungcheol’s house is filled with tension, with the slight nervousness as you think about the last time you’ve made such a reckless decision.

Somehow this doesn’t feel as reckless—it feels thought out, and pre-determined. As if his house was your final destination of the night all along.

Some jokes are cracked in his black porsche, and you notice how his hands grip onto the steering wheel so tight, it starts to turn white.

As if it were the last day on earth with no time to spare, he doesn’t give you time to admire his luxurious and stunning house, not even the bmw parked beside his porsche.

“Fuck, you’re sure about this right, pretty?” He holds your face close, kicking his door shut.

“Very. Want you to show me…show me why I was meant to end up in your arms cheol,” you whisper and he dies internally at the nickname you’ve given him.

“Okay baby,” he pecks your lips. “Gonna fuck the shit out of you pretty,” the moan you let out at that makes you embarrassed but he kisses you so fervently you know you’re not the only needy one.

“Safeword, need a safeword pretty,” he’s panting with urgency, walking you backwards while his hands are unwilling to let go of your face.

“Pumpkin,”

He giggles, gives you another peck on the lips.

“You’re adorable,” and you whine, letting out a gasp as he suddenly has you in his arms, princess-carrying you down the hallway, into his bedroom.

He crashes his lips on yours the minute your back hits the soft mattress, wanting to just kiss every breath out of you.

“So pretty, fuck, knew i had to get you the minute my eyes laid on you,” his hands travel under your shirt, softly caressing your tummy.

You moan at his confession, “you have me cheol,”.

“Yeah? I do, don’t I. Got your pretty ass under me, all I ever need,” a few movements and your buttons pop open, leaving him to drool over your swells covered by a thin bra.

His eager hands grasp onto your mounds, squeezing and playing so rough till it falls out of its confines, and he immediately gets a taste, licking a bud, swirling a tongue to get it hard and puffy.

“Fuck, feels so good,” you moan, legs shifting and rubbing against each other to find relief in the friction.

“So sensitive baby,” he groans, switching over to suck on your other bud, fingers twisting and pulling on the wet and puffy one. You cry out at the insane pleasure it brings you, feeling crazy that you want him to make you cum just by playing with your tits.

“Want more, need more,” you whine out, legs now tight around his waist, trying to lift your hips up to grind on his clothed bulge.

“Mm baby, be patient, I play the long game—won’t be inside you until you cum on my fingers and tongue.” Though his body betrays him as his bulge grows bigger and harder through his pants. You whine, too lost in the pleasure of rubbing yourself on him.

His grips onto your hips, slamming them back into the mattress to get control of the situation.

“I don’t play nice with brats, baby. Wanna be a good girl and stay still for me?” His warning does nothing but soak your panties even more and you nod, submitting his dark gaze.

“Words, need to hear you baby,” he caresses your chin with his thumb.

“Y-yes, I’ll be a good girl cheol.” He kisses you and continues playing with your tits, cupping them, tongue flicking left and right licking your buds together.

“That’s my good girl, knew you’d listen well to me,” he travels down towards your skirt, eyes hooded as he can’t look away from you. He lifts up your skirt to figure out exactly how much of a mess he’s got you in.

Pushing the thin fabric to the side, his index finger runs through your slit, gathering all your arousal, only to bring it to your face, “look at how wet you are baby, you’re fuckin’ drenched god,” he sucks his finger dry, before diving in with his mouth.

“Let me reward you baby, show you why it’s always worth it to be my good girl yeah?”

He licks up and down your slit, before pushing his tongue in your warm cunt, eliciting the loudest moan from you as of yet. “F-fuuck” you scream out as he starts to lap at your cunt like a starved man.

Removing your ruined panties to have better access to your clit, he continues his way up, tongue flicking that sensitive nub all around before sucking it completely, letting his pretty lips play around with your clit. His eyes never leave your face—wanting to savour every look your face contorts into every second.

“C-cheol—so good so good,” your broken moans encourage him to go on even further, as he pushes a finger in easily, sliding it in and out at a steady pace.

He hits two spots at one go, his slender fingers repeatedly rubbing against that friction pad inside you while his mouth stimulates your clit non-stop.

You start to tremble and shake around him, fingers grabbing onto his locks even tighter than before. He feels you clench at inconsistent paces, and observes the tightening of your core.

“You gonna cum for me baby? Like my good girl?”

Coherent sentences can’t seem to form as you let out strings of curses and moans—along with his name.

“Cheol, cheol, cheol fuck,”

“Yeah baby, I can tell you’re there already, cum for me, show me you’re my good girl,” and with that you let go, legs gripping onto his head so tight, shaking, upper body jerking up as you let out a cry.

He rubs your clit to help you prolong your high and you catch your breath slowly, back slowly touching the mattress again.

“You look so fucking gorgeous when you cum baby, need to see that face again,” he hovers above you again, this time attaching his sinful lips on your neck, wanting to mark you as his so badly.

“Take it off—want you inside me,” you tug at his pants, wanting to feel him wreck you completely.

Chuckling, he grabs hold of your hand, pinning them on top of you. “Have you forgotten who’s in charge baby? Don’t worry, I meant it when I said I’ll fuck the shit out of you,” stepping out of his pants, you feel your mouth water at the sight of his angry bulge pushing against his boxers.

“Wanna suck you off, can I?”

He groans, “fuck baby, how can I say no to that pretty face, c’mere” you crawl on the bed towards the edge where he’s standing, helping him get rid of his boxers.

His cock jumps and you already see hints of precum dripping down his girthy length. Laying flat on the bed, you push your ass up a little to give him a show as you start to stroke him, licking his pretty head softly.

“Fuck—no teasing baby,” he throws his head back, groaning at the sight of your pretty face taking in his cock, with your ass—god your ass, he wants to bury his cock in it this instant.

You take him in inch by inch, tongue at the base, flicking around while you swallow him whole. It takes a while, but you soon take all of him in. Moaning at how full it feels, you bob your head, hands playing with his balls, stimulating him even more.

“You’re gonna be the death of me baby, so fucking good to me,” cheol grabs your hair, and starts to guide your head, hips starting to fuck himself into your pretty mouth.

Loud groans erupt from his chest as he feels his tip reach down your throat, the way it tightens and pulses around his tip makes him dizzy.

“Gonna make me cum baby, hold on hold on,” his voice makes you drip more essence on his sheets—his moans together with the sexy chuckle makes you hold your legs together, not wanting to be further embarrassed by how wet you get so easily.

He slides out of your mouth, before instructing you to lay on your back. Grabbing both your legs, placing them on his shoulder before he lines his wet cock on your cunt, gathering all your essence on his tip.

“Hurry cheol—put it in, please,” whining at how empty you feel.

He slams his cock into you, and starts with a pace that makes you scream out at the repeated hits on your g-spot.

“Fuuck—cheol, wait,”

“Told you I don’t play nice with brats baby. You were impatient for my cock—I’m giving it to you now,” his hips never faltering as he continues to pound into you.

“Hhnnngghhm,” you’ve never felt this amount of immense pleasure hitting you so quickly, and all you can do is cry out his name.

“You got what you wanted baby,” he smirks down at you, grabbing onto your ankles tighter as he feels his cock grow tighter at how good you feel around him.

“I-i did, thank you, thank you—fuck, cheol,” you cry out yet again.

“Fuck baby—thanking me for my cock like a good girl now,” he reaches down to play with your clit, wanting to see you crumble before him again.

“I’m your good girl—please,” you throw your head back once you feel the tight circles drawn on your clit. You feel the impending tight feeling down your lower abdomen and you know you’re about to make a mess on his cock.

“That you are baby, fucking my good girl the way she deserves right? Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock baby,” he bites his lower lip, and quickens the pace of his hips and his fingers on your clit. He groans at the sight of white liquid painted on his cock, the ring forming as he thrusts into you.

“You feel so good cheol, so big so full, wanna cum already,” your mind fogs at the pleasure and all you can think about is chasing the high that is about to fall upon you.

“Cum for me baby, cum around this cock like the good girl you are, yeah?” And his voice was the ultimate key to unravel that knot inside you as you feel yourself spasm around his cock, loud cries from you wave after wave.

“You’re gonna make me cum baby, can feel you so tight around me,” you prop your elbows up at his words, moaning at how hot he looks chasing his high inside of you.

“You’d like that baby? Want me to cum inside you? Fuck look at you gripping me so tight even though you just came, so greedy for my cum aren’t you,”

“Yes yes yes, want you to cum inside me cheol,” you whine out, wanting to feel him pump himself inside of you. You beg for it like a broken record and cheol lets out moans and groans before he releases a thick spurt of load inside you, staying still as his cock continues to empty itself inside your warm and tight cunt.

Pulling out, he takes a step back to admire the mixture of your liquids together, oozing out of your pink and ruined cunt.

“Gogo was definitely meant to be in Jason’s arms tonight,” you let out with a breathy chuckle, and cheol brings his hands up to cup your face, swallowing your face whole again with an intense kiss.

“That was amazing baby, Gogo definitely needs to be in Jason’s arms for the rest of all the time from now onwards,” he snuggles his head in the crook of neck, kissing the areas he marked you earlier softly.

You giggle, before a gasp from the man on top of you brought you into a state slight panic, “What’s wrong cheol?”

“Fuck…I just left the bar running—never mind, Jeonghan’s got it,” he snaps his fingers before settling himself in the crook of your neck again.

You tilt your head in confusion, holding his head up to look at him, “What do you mean you left the bar running?”

Cheol’s eyes widen before he smiles sheepishly, “Right…I forgot to mention earlier.. Bloody bar is…my bar—well technically opened it with Jeonghan, the bartender earlier.”

It was your turn to let out a gasp, “Well, never knew bar owners were as enthusiastic in participating in halloween shenanigans,” you smirk towards him before settling down on his bed with him again.

“Lucky you,” he pinches your cheeks and you giggle, rubbing your nose against his, “Lucky me”.

—

A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! a little late to release this but,, i hope u enjoyed this mini halloween fic <3 feel free to comment, leave some feedback if u liked it 🩷🍒 all love,, xx 💋

taglist: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

[porcalinecunt]

heyy could i ask for a jason todd x reader where they’re fucking in his room and dick happens to walk by and he js peek inside and … ykwim 😩

02 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐌!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 the wayne manor was supposed to be empty, leaving you and your boyfie jay alone to spend a night together. unfortunately, the door wasn’t closed . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X GN! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — afab!reader, pervert!dick, peeping, masterbation, jealousy, anal sex, mentions of size kink, dickie being deplorable <3

・:。[ author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ omfg anon, you probably awoke smth in me with this AHHHH— i might make this a kinktober entry bc its just too good! <33

“you alright..?” jason asked as he finally bottomed out. you couldn’t reply until you caught your breath and brought your whines down a notch, yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at you’re boyfriend in the eye. nor could you get used to having sex in the wayne mansion.

with such a large house, loud noises are bound to echo all the way into the batcave, hence why it was rare for you and jason to fuck freely in the mansion. not helping the fact that the wayne’s are a rather large family. jay’s six psudo-siblings, the bat himself and alfred makes privacy a bit difficult to have.

tonight however, was different. with bruce and most of the batkids gone to a gala for the night, the vigilante saw the golden opportunity and dragged your ass right out of your apartment for some “quality” time. of course, spending it by fucking you raw on his king sized bed for round after round as loud as he wants. hell, he didn’t bother to close the bedroom door all the way.

a fatal mistake on his end. the smallest sounds leaked through the crack, every slap to the thigh to him muttering dirty talk could’ve been heard by anyone walking by, and it was. unknowingly to either of you, someone else was nosy enough to peek through and watch the free show in front of him.

dick “dickhead” greyson, as jason lovingly refers to him by. even before you confessed to jay, you knew dick was into you. always boring his eyes into your skin as he admired every inch of your being, only for his younger brother to swoop in and take you himself. the golden boy harbors at least some jealousy, and why blame him? he’s a lover at heart, too stubborn to let go of a crush that had him palming himself when the lights went out.

now here he is, staring through the cracked door at your face while jason ruts another one in you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as another mewl for more slipped through your teeth. “another? someone missed me a ton huh..”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips in a lazy attempt to swallow your moans as he pistons his soaked cock into your cunt, clawing another orgasm out of you. the sounds of skin to skin contact drowned out the external noise of dick’s panting just a couple feet away.

he knew it was wrong, downright disgusting. peeping his own brother boning his partner’s cunt over and over again, something only a degenerate would dream of. yet, he couldn’t help himself. not with the pretty noises you’d make when jay breeds your pussy full, or the faces you’d make that contorts with pleasure. he’d fucking kill to be in that room.

with his hard cock in his hand, the ex-boy wonder pumped away at the live porno playing out. question after question running through his head, wondering the things he could do to you if he was shameless enough to walk in. “hah..ahh..fuck y/n, driving me insane here..”

he sighed, stroking himself faster as jason flipped you onto your stomach and stuffing himself into your tight ass. ‘fuck, that’ll do it..’ dick thought to himself, he never knew you were into anal, especially with a man as rough as his brother.

meanwhile, you could practically feel your third orgasm turn your body into jelly. you’re arms were close to giving out yet your boyfriend kept you up by the nape. the difference in size made you a ragdoll compared to your tank of a man, something that went straight into dick’s twitching cock.

“so small..so fuckin’ cute..” he trailed off as his orgasm made itself obvious as spurts of cum splattered against the wooden door. his eyes locked onto your trembling figure as his breathing turned into full on moans.

“jay..baby, m’ gonna cum..!” you whined as jason’s thrusts grew sloppier by the second. dick bit his bottom lip, he was already making a huge mess. a harmony of moans and skin slapping finally muted out the golden boy as he came all over himself and the door. at the same time as you and jay cumming together.

as he watched you and your boyfriend snuggle in the sweaty afterglow, dick stares down at his cum shot palm and the streaks of white on the door. he knew he had to clean up his act before jason finds out and tears him a new asshole for being a perv.

he simply couldn’t help it though, especially waiting the next time he sees your pretty ass bent over.

© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.

[mellotunekitty]

hey ! how would the batboys react to their s/o or best friend finding out they're [insert vigilante persona] ??? like say they havz noo idea they just assume they havz an eqrly bed time which is why they can't ever hang out in the evening

This is such a good idea because I feel like they'd all have different reactions with similar actions, so here it is! :D

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Batboys - When You Find Out Their Identity

Dick Grayson

As his best friend/partner, it was a bit of a shock that he was Nightwing. Your sweet, funny, caring best friend was actually a crime fighting detective? No way. 

Well, it wasn’t that much of a shock. He’d always leave hangouts early and wouldn’t text you back for hours on end. After you found out he was Nightwing, it made a lot of sense. 

If you were dating, he’d be so upset he didn’t get to be the one who told you. He didn’t want you finding out like this. Dick wanted to keep it on the down low until he could fully ensure your safety. So the fact that you figured it out crushed him a bit. 

But after you found out, he told you everything. His story. The reason he became Robin, what he did as Robin, why he stopped being Robin, and how he became Nightwing. He didn’t give anyone else’s identity away, of course. But he knew you could figure it out. 

Since you know now, he enjoys climbing in through your window after patrols, bringing food with him so you guys can watch movies and talk about your days. 

Jason Todd

He was devastated when you found out. The one person he cared about most, now in danger because of him. Of course, you were shocked too, and he wanted nothing more but to explain everything. 

It was terrifying for him, telling you his story of Robin, his death, becoming Red Hood. But it was a nice surprise for him that you were okay with it. It was an even nicer surprise that you admired him more for it. 

Before you knew who he was, he made you a bit anxious. Jason had you constantly wondering if he actually liked you as a person or not. He was always canceling things at the last minute, or overall just not showing up to hang out with you when he promised he would that time. It also explained the constant injuries he couldn’t explain. So, it was a big relief finally knowing the answers.  

Now that you know he’s Red Hood, he still thinks he put you in danger. That’s why he slipped a tracker in the souls of your shoes. Every. Single. Pair. Not to mention he now tracks your phone and asks Barbara, Oracle, to check on you every so often. 

And obviously he’s going to break into your place when he’s hurt. He needs someone to patch him up, and he trusts you more than anyone. Totally not an excuse just to see you. 

Tim Drake

Anxiety. Immediate anxiety for him. You finding out his identity was his top fear for two reasons. The first reason being he didn’t want you in any danger, the second reason being he didn’t want his ass kicked by Batman. 

He was quick to explain himself, you could hardly get a word in before he dumped it all onto you. How he basically stalked Batman and Nightwing, how he chose to be Robin, why he chose to be Robin. The whole nine yards. 

As stealthy as Tim was, he was kind of bad at hiding it. He trusted you a bit too much and his excuses were poor. He wouldn’t tell you why he had to leave early or why he had to cancel. He just did. Plus, the injuries were a bit of a tell that he was fighting frequently. 

Naturally, he’d swing you around Gotham sometimes. If he wasn’t doing that and he had to focus on watching the city, he would have the other’s track you and see what you were up to, just to keep you safe. 

Like the others, he breaks in through your window. Most times he waits until you’re asleep to sneak in. He sits at the edge of your bed, softly grazing his fingers along your cheek as you sleep soundly. 

Damian Wayne 

Instantly, he’s mad at himself. How could he be so careless? He’s even more mad at himself now that he’s put you in danger. 

You weren’t shocked, really. I mean if anyone you knew was going to be kicking ass in the late hours of the night, it would be him. He had fast reflexes and was a little too stoic. He was always just… off. Leaving randomly without saying anything, his fight instinct going off whenever there’s a slight threat, and more. The list is long. 

He never told you how he became Robin. He barely talks about himself as is. However, he will drop little things about him once in a while. 

Damian doesn’t trust anyone else to keep watch on you, so he does it himself. On patrol, he checks your location when he gets the chance just to make sure you’re where you said you’d be and not in some strange, underground warehouse. 

And obviously he visits you after his patrol. The only thing that’s different from his brothers is the fact that he doesn’t enter your room. Like Tim, he does wait until you’re asleep. But he sits at your window, watching you rest peacefully for a few minutes just to reassure himself you’re safe before he heads back home.

[dollishbabess]

different batboys going in a fitting/dressing room with you - dollish

Dick Grayson (Nightwing)

HC:

1. Playful and Flirty The moment you ask him to come into the fitting room, Dick's eyes light up with excitement. “Are we sure this is a good idea?” he teases with a grin, but he’s already slipping in behind you enjoying the view a little too much.

2. Compliments for Days Every time you try on something new, Dick showers you with praise. “You look incredible,” or “That color is perfect on you.” He’s genuinely mesmerized by everything you wear and isn’t shy about letting you know. (🐆)

3. Hands-on Assistance When you struggle with a zipper or a clasp, Dick is more than happy to help. He’ll stand behind you, hands warm against your skin, and he takes his time, savoring the moment (and definitely not photographing it in his mind to remember later)

4. Playful Reactions He’ll jokingly suggest matching outfits or make exaggerated poses in the mirror next to you. It’s impossible not to laugh when he’s around, and you both end up having way more fun than you expected. (Posing QUEEN FINAL BOSS💜)

(I can’t think of an action sorry!)

Jason Todd (Red Hood)

HC:

1. Reluctant but Willing Jason acts like he’s not interested in shopping, but when you ask him to join you in the fitting room, he raises an eyebrow and follows without hesitation. “Only because you look good in everything,” he grumbles.

2. Blunt Honesty Jason doesn’t sugarcoat anything. If he thinks something looks amazing on you, he’ll tell you straight up. If it doesn’t suit you, he’ll say, “Nah, not your best look.” You appreciate his honesty, even if it makes you roll your eyes sometimes. (🐆)

3. Playful Teasing He can’t help but tease you when you’re trying on different outfits. “Are you sure you’re not just showing off for me doll?” he’ll say with a smirk, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

4. Protective Presence Jason stands in the corner with a watchful eye, making sure no one bothers you or tries to peek in. He’s protective, even in such a mundane situation, and it’s oddly comforting and holds the curtains of the fitting room closed or stands next to the door. (atp please stay home)

ACTION!: As you try on a dress, Jason tilts his head, taking a moment to admire you before saying, “You should buy it. And wear it for me later.” The heat in his gaze is enough to make you blush, and he smirks, knowing exactly the effect he has on you.

Tim Drake (Red Robin)

HC:

1. Awkward but Sweet Tim is a bit flustered when you suggest he join you in the fitting room. “Uh, are you sure that’s allowed?” he stammers, but he eventually follows, cheeks tinted pink. (DAMN YOU ON EDGE OF THE BED YOU ABOUT TO FALL OFF)

2. Helpful but Shy He’s not sure where to look when you’re changing, but he does his best to be helpful. If you ask for his opinion, he’ll give you a thoughtful answer, genuinely considering how each outfit suits you. (🐆)

3. Accidentally Cute When you’re struggling with an outfit, Tim fumbles to help, often resulting in the two of you tangling up together. He apologizes profusely, and you can’t help but find his awkwardness endearing.

4. Gives Genuine Compliments When you finally emerge in a new outfit, Tim’s eyes widen, and he stares for a moment before saying, “You look… amazing.” His voice is sincere, and it makes you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

ACTION!: You’re trying on a particularly tricky dress, and Tim offers to help with the zipper. His fingers brush against your skin, and he freezes, face turning bright red. “S-Sorry,” he mumbles, but you can tell he’s not entirely unhappy about being so close to you.

Damian Wayne (older but no smut)

HC:

1. Reluctantly Joins Damian initially refuses to join you in the fitting room. “That’s highly inappropriate” even when you’re dating,But when you insist, he sighs and follows, muttering something about how he’s only doing it to protect you.

2. Gives Direct Feedback Damian doesn’t mince words. If he thinks something looks bad, he’ll tell you outright. “That’s hideous. You deserve better,” he’ll say, but he’ll also let you know when something suits you perfectly, even if he tries to act indifferent. (🐆)

3. Respectful Distance He stands with his back turned whenever you’re changing, arms crossed and eyes closed. He respects your privacy but will peek when you’re not looking, just to make sure you’re okay.

4. Secretly Enjoys It Though he’d never admit it, Damian loves spending this time with you. He might even pick out a few outfits for you to try, claiming they’re “more appropriate” but secretly hoping you’ll wear something he chose.

ACTION!: You try on an outfit he picked, and when you ask for his opinion, Damian gives a satisfied nod. “It suits you,” he says simply, but you catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, revealing how pleased he is.

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

HC:

1. Charming and Sophisticated Bruce is the ultimate gentleman in the fitting room. When you invite him in, he gives you a knowing smile and steps inside, immediately making the small space feel more refined. (Loves it)

2. Knows Fashion Bruce has an eye for style and knows exactly what suits you. He offers suggestions and adjustments, making sure you look perfect in every outfit. He’ll even offer to buy you whatever you like, no matter the cost. (🐆)

3. Effortlessly Romantic He’s the type to help you with a zipper or clasp without you even asking. His touch is gentle but firm, and he makes the simplest action feel intimate and loving”

4. Playful Yet Classy Bruce isn’t above making a few flirtatious comments. “I think you’d look better without it,” he’ll whisper in your ear, his tone teasing but filled with genuine affection. (gl walking tomorrow babes)

ACTION!: You try on a stunning gown, and Bruce’s eyes darken as he steps closer. “You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your bare shoulder. The intensity of his gaze makes your heart skip a beat, and you realize that even in a fitting room, Bruce Wayne knows how to sweep you off your feet.

This is @dollishbabess work not yours, DO NOT copy or share on other platforms and if you do, I must get full credit Ty🦢

dividers from @cafekitsune !

[anothertimdrakestan]

Batboys Toxic Traits Headcanons

because no one is perfect, i wanted to get a little dirty with it and imagine what the boys are like when they're a little... too obsessed with you.

tw for romanticizing possessive, obsessive, jealous, aggressive actions haha xoxo

Jason Todd

- scary dog privileges wherever you go with jace, but he is ALL bite with one and only one warning bark.

- when a hand that isn't his brushes your thigh in a club, fingers get broken. when a cat caller thinks his compliment just has to be said to you, he most likely won't be able to speak again for weeks. And god forbid any villain try to use you as bait for jason, they've all learned if they value their life to never touch you. He's all for justice not vengeance until anyone tries to mess with you, then those words always get mixed up in his head.

- sometimes you cant even complain about people, they end up getting randomly harassed by a certain someone until they just move town

- jason is adamant as long as he's alive there won't be a problem of yours he can't solve with a little violence

- your biggest problem is that he struggles to let you have guy friends, obviously the ones he knows especially fellow heroes are more than fine, but he's been known to burst blood vessels when he sees you close and person with men he's never met

- he's proud of it too: "let another man try and touch y/n, it's been a slow night for me." or "i just don't get why you need him as a friend when you have me, myself, and i"

Tim Drake

- tim gets... obsessive.

- he tends to fall hard but with you he brought the house down with him

- before you were officially his he had hacked every security camera in the city to have eyes on you at any given moment

- both for your safety and his own maniacal flirting strategy: you admire shoes but frown at the price tag? tim's buying you the matching bag to go with the shoes he bought the second you looked at them.

- before you knew how insanely in love with you he was, you truly thought he was a mind reader

- well he kind of was, seeing as he scrolled through your search history every night to know which talking points to bring up with you

- once you finally fell for him and set some stronger boundaries he still occasionally found himself double checking your location when you weren't by his side, or lazily purchasing every item on your pinterest boards, he just can't help but dote on you

Damian Wayne

- damian doesn't really get close to people, but as always you were his exception

- however, this means his list of people to hang out with is extremely short, and he saw no problem in wanting to be around you wherever you went whenever he could

- like a kind of tall, dark, and brooding puppy, he quietly followed you everywhere, and when you strictly told him he couldn't follow along, you always noticed a perched shadow just a few building away

- eventually you got used to rolling over to damian coolly watching you sleep or patiently waiting to pick you up from your classes/job, happy just to walk you to your car

- just like jason, damian had a brutal and heartless style of problem-solving when it came to anyone giving you trouble

- too often you found yourself standing in between his rage a massive mistake whether it was nearly assaulting a friend of yours who tried to ask you out or threatening to buy out your entire workplace when you didn't get the promotion you wanted

- forever cooling his rage was worth having his adoration though, and you were happy to have your overbearing shadow follow you throughout your days

Dick Grayson

- for such a bubbly leader, dick often struggled with communication

- always used to bearing his problems alone youd spent too many nights tracking down your own boyfriend only to beg him to tell you what's wrong

- he never understood that you didn't always want to solve his problems, but hold his sadness or hurt with him

- it was the worst when he was upset with you, whether it was jealously or insecurity that crept into his mind

- he'd take off in a rush hoping you wouldn't notice but you always did, either hunting him down or simply waiting with open arms for him to come home

- it would take years to teach your traveling-circus-raised boyfriend that you weren't going anywhere, ever.

- but, this made for many heartfelt nights where he held you and promised you the world, as if you'd opened him up in a way no one else could, pulling forward the most magical and loving side of your sweet boy