#the coffee shop gals | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vivwritescrappythings · 4 months ago

Text

small apologies

simon riley x afab!reader

Six months have passed since Simon took you back to his place, he wants to say he's sorry.

part one

tw: smut, mentions of suicidal actions/thoughts, depressed simon, bisexual simon, afab and fem reader, oral f!receiving, fingering, a touch of butt play, wrote this while very tired.

word count: 6.5k

masterlist

MDNI!

—

It had been nearly six months since Simon saw you.

You’d weaseled your way into his fucking brain like a parasite, the dejected look on your face haunting him.

But it was more than just that, he’d catch himself thinking about the way you fidgeted with the cardboard coaster at the pub, or how you’d stumbled over your feet to catch up with him on the way to his flat, or your fucking giggle on his front doorstep.

The worst was when he was fisting his cock in the frantic moments he could find privacy while deployed, his mind wandering back to your dulcet moans as you ground yourself against his lap. There was a wet spot on his jeans when you left—he’d shamelessly fished them out of the dirty laundry to sniff a few days later.

Johnny would’ve been disappointed in him for treating you like that.

He kept that in mind when he finally got back to his flat, dropping his bag of gear on the slightly dusty floor to see your coat hanging lonely on the hook. Of course you’d forgotten it. The way you stormed out was still clear in his mind, your retreat so rushed and hasty that he couldn’t even get a word in edgewise.

Had you really been wearing this corduroy monstrosity at the pub? You must have been so pretty that he didn’t even notice, too focused on getting you home to care.

Simon thought he’d be doing you a favor if he just tossed the thing, the rust colored jacket all frayed on the ends and missing a few buttons. It looked like a favorite coat, a little too well-loved around the edges.

He had to return it to you. Wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he didn’t. Or at least that was a decent enough excuse as any to go on a manhunt for your information. You never exchanged phone numbers… or even last names.

If he ever did manage to find you, he’d have to talk to you about being more weary of strangers. Especially strangers that looked like him—chewed up and spit out by the world.

Rifling through your pockets rewarded him with some lint, a squished piece of gum still in its paper wrapper, and a ball of crumpled receipts. Simon pushed aside the feeling of guilt associated with going through your personal things as he spread the receipts flat on his kitchen counter.

They were all from a coffee shop near the university, the order across the receipts was identical: a hazelnut latte and almond croissant.

You liked sweet things. It was fitting.

—

He showed up at that damn coffee shop dozens of times in the next week, so much so that the baristas memorized his order. Medium black coffee with just a splash of milk. The gals usually had it prepared for him by the time he made it up to the register, having recognized his wide shoulders before he even got through the glass door and the little bell announced his arrival.

The university students studying gave him odd looks, seeing him jammed behind one of the tiny tables and trying to inconspicuously watch the door. They were everywhere, laptops and textbooks spread out on the tables and seats–but none of them were you.

It took him another week of showing up at random times to muster up the courage to ask the baristas about you.

They didn’t want to tell him at first, suspicious gazes as he described you and gave them your name. How could he blame them? If anything, he should have been praising them for their willingness to keep your identity protected.

Then one of the girls from the back of the house came forward, arms folded over her apron like an accusation and sending the hand-written name tag clattering to the tile. “Wait, are you Simon?”

His scarred, blonde eyebrow raised. There was a clumsy, confused nod of his head. He hadn’t expected you to tell anyone, thought you would’ve been as embarrassed as he was about the whole thing. Probably even more embarrassed than him, to be honest.

Simon found himself impressed by how the barista stood her ground, jaw set and feet planted like she was ready for him to jump the counter and attack her. The other girls were whispering to one another, all wide-eyes and shocked expressions as they tittered. “I don’t really think she wants to see you.”

His teeth dug into his cheek, pulling his expression to one side as his dark eyes traced the grout of the tile floor.

“Just been lookin’ to apologize to her about what happened,” Simon finally admitted, awkward and uncomfortable in his attempt at honesty. One big hand came to rub at the back of his neck, feeling sweat pooling at his nape.

He’d killed people without the bat of an eye, but talking about apologizing to you made him break out in a sweat.

The silence was deafening, like he’d just set off a grenade near the cash register and they were dealing with the aftershock. The barista didn’t seem to be buying it, her weight shifting from her right side to her left as she moved her stance.

“And I’ve got her jacket. The ghastly orange one?” He sounded unsure, like he didn’t know what jacket was currently hung up next to his front door. “Thought she’d want it back, and I’ll only give it to her myself.”

Keeping your jacket as a hostage had to be a new low. He could tell you loved the coat, he figured that would be enough to convince the barista to divulge your information.

The girl sighed, rolling her eyes behind her thick-framed glasses. “She comes around nine at night, pretty much every day except weekends. You’ll catch her then, but she probably won’t want to talk to you.”

Good enough for him.

“Thanks ladies,” Simon muttered, turning and leaving without even grabbing his coffee.

—

You were tucked into a booth in the back of the shop and hunched over your laptop.

Simon had to pause for a moment, you hardly even looked like the same girl from the pub. Every stitch of makeup was gone from your face, your fancy dress had been exchanged for a soft sweater and leggings.

He found that he preferred you this way.

There was a moment of hesitation before he forced himself to approach. Your jacket was clutched in his hand, smelling like his laundry detergent.

Anxiety dripped down his spine for a moment, he didn’t realize he would be so terrified to approach you. He must be a fool to think that you would welcome him with that pretty smile of yours, your eyes flashing with the same mischief he had seen all those months ago.

But Johnny would push him to apologize, to talk to you. He wouldn’t have wanted Simon to be miserable for the rest of his life, and you’d already decided to become a permanent resident of his mind.

He ended up approaching the cash register, stalling the inevitable confrontation for a moment. “I’ll get a small black coffee and a medium hazelnut latte,” he muttered, forking over the bills in a hurry. Maybe if he came over with a coffee it would be a sort of peace offering—one of many if you didn’t outright turn him away.

With both coffees in hand and your jacket tucked under his arm, Simon finally approached you. He had to keep reminding himself that he was a soldier, he’d stared down the barrels of guns and had been buried alive, but for some reason he found you to be terrifying.

You didn’t look up from your laptop, even when he was looming over you like the grim reaper. The sound of your fingers flying over the keyboard was impressive, a near-constant stream of tapping that put his search-and-peck method to shame.

He cleared his throat, shifting his stance as you looked away from your work.

The way your expression fell when you saw him made Simon’s stomach twist into a knot.

“I was warned that you might show up,” you said, twisting a pen around your fingers as your head tilted to one side. “Didn’t think you actually had the guts.”

He winced. It was deserved, it didn’t take much self-awareness to recognize that. He continued to stand awkwardly in front of the table, unsure if you wanted him to sit down with you or were about to tell him to fuck off.

“Well, sit down, then,” you said, your gaze trailing to the booth across from you and back to Simon’s face. “Can’t have you just standing there like an oaf.”

If there was one thing Simon was excellent at, it was taking orders. His knees bumped yours under the table, making you shuffle out of the way as he set the paper coffee cup down next to your empty one. Or at least he hoped it was empty.

“Um, ‘ve got your jacket,” he said after a beat of silence, setting the orange coat on the table. You reached for it, but Simon’s big paw of a hand kept you from snatching it back. “Can we talk? For a minute?”

When did he start sounding like a miserable teenager?

You huffed, folding your hands up under your chin and resting the weight of your head on them. “Fine, Simon.” The syllables were drawn out like you were already annoyed.

He swallowed thickly, soldiering on. “Just wanted to apologize.” It came out quieter than he’d meant it to, more uncomfortable. His dark eyes were focused on the wood grain of the table, calloused fingertips tapping the coffee cup still in his hand.

You just hummed, expression flat as you looked him up and down. His jaw flexed as he took a breath. The background music in the little coffee shop was some song from a movie he half recognized, it was one Johnny had forced him to watch when they’d still been clumsily flirting, shoulders pressed together on the too-small loveseat on base.

The skin on the nape of his neck was damp when he scraped his palm across it. “I… I was havin’ a hard time, wasn’t fair to use ya like that.”

Surprise made your expression twist along with the sinking feeling in his gut. It was a stupid idea to come here and apologize—all of this for some silly crush? He needed to get his head back on his shoulders.

“So what was the hard time?” you asked, sending his train of thought off the rails. He didn’t think you’d want to know. “You and that Johnny fellow break up or something?”

A few months ago a question like that would have destroyed Simon. How could he put that his whole life ended into words? That for over a year, he wished he’d been dead in the ground with him—he just didn’t have the guts to pull the trigger when he’d actually put the gun in his mouth.

He sighed, scrubbing his hand over the lower half of his face. “He died. Killed in action.”

The way your expression sank made his heart ache. Your harsh demeanor completely changed, melting into empathy. You reached across the table toward him, your soft fingers running across the back of his hand. The feel of your skin against his made his stomach flip.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” you said, brows furrowed over your eyes. Your obvious concern was endearing, genuine despite not having to be.

His tongue clicked against his teeth as he shook his head. “Wouldn’t’ve told you if I didn’t want you to know,” he said, voice quiet. There was a level of trepidation to his words, he said didn’t want to scare you off by saying too much.

You hummed softly, nodding as you pulled your hand back. Simon had to resist the urge to grab it. He tapped his fingertips on the table top instead.

“How, um, how long were you together?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked at Simon. It was kind of you to ask, most people wouldn’t want to know more about his dead boyfriend.

“Two years n’some.” He drank a sip of his coffee just to give himself something to do with his hands. “Hell, he’s been gone for almost as long as we were together.”

The realization caught Simon off guard, had two years really already passed by? He’d hardly noticed. He was barely alive for them.

“I’m really sorry,” you whispered again, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the table. You took a sip of the hazelnut latte he bought you as you looked at him over the rim. He was entranced when you licked the foam off your upper lip.

Simon just shrugged. “S’part of the job, we both knew that,” he muttered, looking down at the table for a moment. The hanging silence made his skin crawl. “He was my best friend, too, ya know? Even before we were together and everythin’—he just knew all there was to know about me.”

You listened intently while he rambled about his relationship with Johnny, sipping your coffee and genuinely paying attention. Simon couldn’t recall the last time someone actually listened to him like this, at least someone he wasn’t paying to do it. He found himself choking up when he had to catch his breath.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you blurted, a kind attempt to spare him from having to spill his emotions to you. He wanted to thank you for trying. “You apologized, I accept. It’s really alright. You didn’t have to apologize at all.”

But he did.

“Nah, doll, thought about you too much afterward to not apologize.” There it was again, that surprised look on your face. Whatever image of him you had, he wanted to erase it from your mind forever. “You took up a damn residence in my head while I was deployed, really pissed me off for a while.”

The corner of your mouth twitched with the threat of a smile.The change of subject breathed life back into the conversation, both of you taking a deep breath. He fixated on it, dark brown eyes staring at your lips long enough that he would have burned a hole through it.

“Took up a residence in your head? Is it a flat or more of a bedsit?” you asked, a hint of mischief flashing in your eyes.

Simon chuckled, shaking his head to himself. “A damn villa, actually,” he corrected, running a hand through his choppy haircut. The amount of brain space you’d been taking up lately was embarrassing.

You snorted, the sound nearly making his heart stop. He watched you fold a napkin into smaller and smaller triangles as you looked at him, chipped nail polish catching the light. “Sounds pretty nice, can’t say I ever stayed in a villa before,” you quipped.

His laugh sounded like a bark, harsh and deep. “Well you practically own the place now, doll, so you better enjoy it,” he said, taking a drink of his now lukewarm coffee.

You rolled your eyes playfully, resting your chin in the palm of your hand and letting your elbow dig into the tabletop. “So Simon, what brought you here? I know it can’t just be that I was on your mind,” you said, the smile you’d been starting to sport fading.

The fact that you could see through him like that caught him off guard. Simon spread his big hands flat on the table, pressing his fingertips against the wood veneer as he considered his answer. “My shrink n’I talked about it a lot,” he finally muttered.

If he hadn’t been trying to bore a hole through the table with his eyes he would’ve seen your eyebrows tick up in surprise. “A shrink? You decided to see a therapist?”

A half smile formed on his face, his eyes still downturned from yours. Hearing your shock was enough. “Court mandated,” he supplemented, glancing at you for a moment before looking away again. “Busted up some guys pretty good for harassing people outside a gay pub couple months ago, got off easy.”

“Well aren’t you a good samaritan,” you said, not even mentioning that he was at a gay pub. He didn’t know why he expected you to fixate on that more.

“Try my best,” he mumbled, blushing at the compliment. He couldn’t look away from you for too long, wanting to see every expression you made like it was his last chance. And it very well might’ve been his last chance, it would be easy for you to take your jacket back and shoo him off.

There was something in your expression that made his breath catch in his throat. The sparkle in your eye looked like you were going to forgive him, and he realized he was ready to do anything to be absolved of his sins by your gentle hand.

The sound of a chair being flipped upside down and put on a table made him flinch, snapping the two of you out of it as the baristas started to close up shop. He’d never been more aggravated in his life than when he watched the baristas start their closing duties.

“Oh, didn’t realize it was so late,” you said, frantically starting to pack your things into the backpack on the seat next to you.

Simon swallowed, Adam’s Apple bobbing beneath his skin. “Guess time got away from us.”

He walked out behind you like a guard dog, hot on your heels and towering over you as you stood on the sidewalk. The glow coming from the coffee shop window lit you up in yellows and oranges, softening you like an oil painting.

“Thanks… for bringing my jacket back,” you said, sounding a touch awkward as you looked up at him. You had the orange jacket folded over your forearm.

He nodded, a soft grunt of acknowledgment coming from his chest. “Didn’t fit me when I tried it on, so I figured I’d give it back.”

You laughed, shaking your head. The weight of your gaze dragged up from his heavy black boots to his shaggy crop of blonde hair. “Well, have a good night, Simon,” you murmured, taking a step back from him. You said it low and quiet, moving away from him slowly.

He didn’t see car keys or anything on you, and he didn’t like the idea of you taking the tram so late and by yourself. “How are ya getting home?” he asked, stepping forward toward you.

You paused your retreat. “I was gonna walk, s’only twenty minutes from here.” You pointed in some direction.

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. Making you walk at night? That wouldn’t do.

“My car’s parked right there, I can drive you,” he said, his voice hardly leaving room for argument. But thankfully you just nodded and accepted, following him to the car parked on the curb.

“Thanks, Simon,” you murmured, eyes stuck on him as you wedged past him to clamber in the passenger seat, your backpack between your feet.

“For you? S’not a problem,” he assured you, letting the door snap closed with a click.

—

Simon parked outside of your flat, the two of you looking at the porch light that you told him had gone out. He busied himself with studying your profile, the slope of your nose and the pout of your lips. It took every ounce of self control to not reach out and turn you for a kiss.

He was such an idiot to tell you not to kiss him the first time.

“So…” you trailed off, turning to look at him. The way you tilted your head betrayed how conflicted you felt. “Even though I would like to invite you inside so you could start your real apology, I think I’ll have to wait for you to ask me on a proper date.”

His heart thumped—he really wanted to go inside with you.

The hope of tasting your deliciously wet cunt had kept him going through his last deployment, the thought of hearing you moan his name. Simon had to adjust how he was sitting.

“I can do a proper date,” he said, a thick arm stretching across the console to grasp the back of your seat. “Pick ya up, go out for a meal.”

He’d probably do anything you asked. Devotion was something that came easy to him, he could already feel the need to satisfy your every want rising in his mind.

“Yeah?” you asked, a ghost of a smile pulling your lip. It was almost as if you’d expected him to deny you.

How could he deny you anything?

“Yeah, doll,” he confirmed, a steadfast nod of his head that sent some of his blonde hair onto his forehead. “Take you anywhere, just gotta tell me.”

Your face scrunched up a bit in the dim light in the car, nose wrinkling as you looked up at him from the passenger seat. Then you were leaning over the console, a hand fisting in the dark fabric of his coat and yanking him down toward you.

Simon acquiesced, letting his spine curve as you pulled him in. “You gonna let me kiss you this time?�� you asked, your faces only a few centimeters away from one another at this point.

Your breaths mingled together, just a little movement forward and he’d finally feel your soft lips against his scarred ones.

The scars on his face didn’t ever seem to bother you, even when you first met at the pub. You looked at his scarred face and slightly crooked nose and talked to him anyways. Went home with him anyways.

“Course, d’be daft not to,” he grumbled, dark eyes skirting down to your lips for a moment. You smirked, eyes flashing with your triumph.

Simon closed the space between you two, lips slanting over yours.

He didn’t think he’d ever feel alive again, but kissing you made him reconsider.

You made a soft surprised sound against his mouth before relaxing into it, your hands finding his jacket collar and tugging him even closer. He hardly noticed the console pressing against his thigh and stomach as he twisted over it, one paw of a hand finding the soft plush of your thigh beneath the leggings.

The kiss quickly became heated, tongues and teeth meeting as your fingers twisted into the short locks of blonde hair at the nape of his neck. Simon could crack your ribs open and swallow you whole, his hands grabbing at the curve of your waist and the flesh of your ass as he tried to feel as much of you as he could.

You didn’t deny him, twisting in your seat as much as you could. He groped you like some pathetic teenager, licking into your mouth as his hands squeezed at your breasts through the thick knit of your sweater and skimmed dangerously far up between your thighs.

“Simon,” you breathed as he trailed his lips along your jaw and to your neck. He was being greedy, taking more than you originally agreed to give. It felt like life had been breathed back into his corpse and he couldn’t let it go.

He hummed against the column of your throat. “Just let me start my apology,” Simon murmured, his deep voice even tougher than normal. His fingers traced the tight elastic waistband of your leggings, delighting in the feeling of the layer of pudge pressing above them.

“Simon… someone will see.” More of a whine than actually telling him to stop. You tilted your head to give him more access to the delicate skin of your throat, making him smile against your throat.

“A small apology,” he mumbled, squeezing your inner thighs with a hand. “No one will see, promise.”

It earned him a whimper, your legs spreading so Simon could fit his hand between them. He flattened the meat of his palm against your pubic bone, long fingers stretching back to cup your cunt through the thin layers of your leggings and panties. Heat radiated off you onto his hand.

You sighed, fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “What if someone walks by?” He could appreciate the slight tremble of anxiety in your tone.

“Back seat windows are tinted, that better?” he asked against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, laving his tongue over the skin. His other hand had snaked up the hem of your sweater and was pawing at the curve of your waist.

You hummed, nodding quickly. Simon didn’t realize how fast he ushered you over the center console and into the back seat until you were careening over it and tumbling into the leather upholstery. He smirked, taking the opportunity to grab a handful of your plush ass that made you burst out in a giggle and swat at his hand.

Adrenaline was already buzzing through him as he got up to get out of the car—there was no way he could fit over the console even if he wanted to. He made sure to push the front seat all the way forward so he had somewhere to put his legs.

Getting in was a clumsy thing, he hit his head on the roof of the car as he planted his knees into the leather seat. He grunted, rubbing his forehead with a hand as he bent down further. Twisting to close the door was a mess, leading to you giggling as he finally was able to reach the handle and yank it shut.

“Oh, y’think that’s funny?” Simon asked you, a wolfish grin on his face as he set his sights on you.

You looked so sweet and cute, a hand pressed over your mouth as you snickered and your eyes flashing with a bit of mischief. The little shake of your head was too adorable for words, only making his smile grow even wider.

He liked this playful side of you, it felt like the two of you hadn’t been able to let go of the seriousness of your last encounter.

“That’s it, doll.” Simon felt like a monster shoved in here with you, taking up all the extra space in the back seat as he reached for you. Big hands curled around the tops of your thighs and yanked you toward him.

You squeaked a laugh as you landed on your back. He was already crowding in, pressing you nearly in half on the seat as he bullied his way into your personal space.

The feeling of your fingertips running through his short hair made him groan. He almost didn’t know what to do with you—you were so soft compared to him, he was worried he would break you without meaning to.

His mouth found yours in the dark, the softness of your lips molding to his without effort. You moaned into the kiss, pulling him in by the nape of his neck.

A big hand planted on the leather seat next to your head, holding the weight of his body off you as he hungrily licked into your mouth. He just couldn’t help himself, he was too greedy to stop.

His other hand snapped the waistband of your leggings against the soft skin of your stomach, making your breath hitch—but you didn’t stop him.

The elastic was tight as he pushed his fingers beneath it, the soft layer of pudge on your belly squishing as he did. He shifted his weight back to his knees, breaking the kiss as he yanked your leggings and panties down in one smooth motion.

“Simon!” you yelped, eyes wide as you looked at him.

He was hardly paying attention, pushing your knees to your chest. His big hands braced on the backs of your thighs, the mess of your underwear and leggings rucked up just enough that he could see all of you.

If you told him his tongue lolled out like some cheesy cartoon, Simon wouldn’t have been surprised. You had the prettiest cunt he ever saw: slick and puffy—she was already drooling for him.

“Jesus, doll,” he grunted, dark eyes still focused at the apex of your thighs. “You’re just as pretty down here, aren’t you?”

You made a strangled noise, one of your hands grabbing at his and wrapping around his ring and pinky finger. “You’re being ridiculous,” you whined, still not telling him to fuck off or to stop.

He chuckled, feeling his mouth watering as he imagined diving between your legs. “Just want to apologize to her for neglecting her last time, can I do that?” he asked you, voice low and gruff.

Your thighs trembled under his hands, trying to squeeze together. He swore he saw a bit more slick trickle out of you, running down your perineum and pooling in your puckered asshole. God, he’d give anything to taste you.

But you hadn’t said anything yet. The silence felt like it was sucking the air out of the car. He suddenly felt enormous and ungainly, the fear that you didn’t want this sending a chill down his spine.

“Y-yeah,” you finally breathed, your voice breathy and high.

Relief breathed back into his body, a smile tugging at his lip. “Yeah?” he repeated, already maneuvering so he was almost level with your pussy. He pressed wet kisses against the backs of your thighs and felt you squirm.

“Shit, please,” you ended up whining, sounding wrecked already. Simon’s heart skipped a beat, not believing that you were so needy you were already begging him.

“Calm down.” He licked the words into the puffy lips of your pussy. Before he knew it, he coaxed them open with his crooked nose and was glistening from nose to chin. It still didn’t feel like enough, he was selfish, he needed to be drowning in you.

You were the opposite of calm, legs straining against his hands and hips rutting up toward his face after the first touch. He loved how responsive you were, mewling and whining and fucking soaking wet for him. It’s everything he could do to keep his head on his shoulders and not try to unhinge his jaw to swallow you whole.

All he could smell or taste was you, a heady mix of sweat and sweetness and musk that was all you. It pulled him in, desperate to drink as much of you as possible.

Your thighs spread as much as they could with your leggings around your knees, giving Simon just enough space to jam the bump along the bridge of his nose against your clit. He would let you break his nose again if you wanted to.

He felt delirious. Of course, he’d been with other women before you and had eaten them out, but Johnny was the only person he really felt devotion for. Yet here he was, brain blissfully devoid of a thought that didn’t pertain to you and your pleasure.

Devotion was a feeling Simon missed.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue laving over you without rhyme or reason for a few moments in an attempt to taste every part of you. You squirmed under him, whining beautifully as his big hands pushing down on your thighs pinned you to the leather seat.

Anyone who dared look into the car would get a show, you nearly bent in half beneath him, his big form curled over you and contorted so much that his left leg was starting to go numb. He hardly noticed.

“Simon!” you gasped. He was rock hard in his jeans, almost painfully stiff against his zipper as his tongue lapped at your fluttering hole. You whimpered as you let your head fall back against the seat, pushing your cunt against his face.

He squeezed your thighs, wanting to unzip his jeans and take himself in his hand while he feasted on you. But he didn’t want to let go. The feel of your soft skin and soft flesh under his hands was heavenly, fingers kneading into the soft squish of your thighs as he speared his tongue into you.

If he stretched his fingers far enough, one hand could press both your legs back and free the other to explore you. It was too tempting to pet your pretty asshole with the calloused pad of his thumb, a self-satisfied groan pulling out of him at the sound of your squeal.

You gushed on his tongue.

He smiled into your pussy, teeth lightly nudging the swollen bud of your clit for a moment before he dove back in with his tongue. You kept trying to move, legs straining against the width of his hand as you twisted your sweater in your fingers.

A mix of slick and his saliva dripped down from your soaked cunt, pooling against his thumb as it circled the tight ring of muscle. The unhinged part of him wanted to force your legs so far back so the small of your spine lifted off the seat, opening you up so he could press his mouth between your cheeks. The thought of how you’d cry out made him groan against you.

But he left that for another day, part of his grand apology to you in the future.

Simon’s jaw ached, mouth open and tongue fucking into you. The way you cried made him keep going, he wanted to keep hearing you. The tight sound of your whining devolved into something delightfully wet and raw, the little hitches of your breath and hiccups told him that you were crying.

Satisfied with how much he stretched you on your tongue, he pressed his index and middle fingers into your sodden cunt. The feel of you squeezing his fingers made him moan, his mouth moving upward to suckle at your clit.

He was desperate to make you come, wanted to feel you falling apart on his fingers and tongue so he could put you back together.

You whimpered as Simon’s bicep tensed, making his fingers vibrate inside you. He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. It was almost hard to focus, his cock so hard that it ached as he devoured you like a starving man.

“Simon,” you breathed, your voice sounding wet as you spoke, “m’gonna come.”

If there was a way to increase his efforts, he did. He twisted his fingers inside of you as they plunged back and forth, rubbing along every ridge inside you as your cunt clutched at him. He was almost frantic, tongue swirling over your clit in firm circles as his dark eyes squeezed shut.

You moaned, legs trembling against the restraint of his hand as you made needy little noises. He felt lightheaded, starving as the wet squelch of his fingers pressing your gummy walls filled his ears.

Then your breaths heaved, a gasp of his name escaping your lips as your body pulled taut like a bow. Simon didn’t relent, drinking down the sweet nectar of your slick. He was so greedy, not letting a drop escape at the expense of your sensitivity as your orgasm rocked through your body.

He didn’t pull away despite the desperation in your whines and grunted curses, curling his fingers into your spongey pussy and lapping at your clit with his flattened tongue. You were so tight that it felt like you would take his fingers clean off, your pussy pulling him in.

The way you sobbed was pure sin, legs kicking desperately against his hold.

Your back broke on a cry, arching off the leather seat as you came for a second time. He could feel you clumsily reaching for him, pushing him away from your oversensitive cunt as you whimpered.

Simon acquiesced, pulling away as he licked his lips.

Pride surged through him as he partially sat up, letting your legs go. You looked absolutely wrecked, eyes hazy and tears streaked down your cheeks. Your chest was heaving beneath your sweater as you looked up at the ceiling of the car.

He palmed his hard cock through his jeans, grunting softly at the much-needed friction. He had to get a hold of himself before he begged to fuck you out here in his car like a teenager.

“My god,” you sighed, wiping a hand over your face as you looked up at the roof. Your eyes were wide and hazy, stroking Simon’s ego.

A big paw of a hand rubbed up and down your thigh, moving from hip to where your leggings were still tangled around your knees. “S’my apology accepted?” Simon asked, his voice thick as he took deep breaths.

You giggled, propping yourself up on an elbow so you could properly look at him. Your eyes were almost black with arousal, your pupils spread so wide they looked like drops of ink in water. “Yeah, I think it was a pretty thorough one,” you teased, a smirk on your face as you lightly shoved his shoulder.

It took you a few more minutes to gather yourself, even breaths returning to your body as you slowly sat up again. You managed to maneuver your leggings back on, reaching over the seat for your overstuffed backpack.

“So a proper date, right?” you asked, glancing down at the bulge at the front of his jeans before you looked back up at him. He expected no less from you, your stubbornness making him want to kiss you.

He nodded, swallowing thickly as he tried to formulate a response. “Yeah, doll. I can take you to dinner tomorrow–seven o’clock?”

You’re nodding and kissing his cheek before he could react. You opened the passenger side door, a blast of cool air hitting him like a jolt of electricity as he straightened up.

“See you tomorrow, Simon!” you chirped brightly as though you hadn’t just been bent in half in the back seat of his car, the door slamming shut behind you as you jogged up the walk and disappeared into your flat.

Simon chuckled to himself, shamelessly smelling his slick-soaked fingers as he wrestled himself into a sitting position in the back seat. His head rolled back against the headrest, dark eyes focused on the ceiling as he laughed in earnest for the first time in a while.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt excited at the concept of another day, but he already found himself counting down the minutes until tomorrow.

#simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #tf 141 #simon is a munch sorry

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flamingo-writes · 1 year ago

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A/N: i am back from the dead after months. And it should’ve come as a surprise that I absolutely loved Hobie. Looks like a rockstar and is an absolute punk. My type in a nutshell.

I’m gonna be using some of these headcanon for future

Gal in The Chair — Hobie Brown x Artist!Reader

I think Hobie would be the kind of guy to fall for someone who he’s known for a long while, that being said, you’d perhaps known him all of your life

Having grown together, the two of you shaped a lot of each other’s beliefs. So no wonder the two of you were so compatible.

After the spider bite, you saw the whole journey from Hobie freaking out at first, to him figuring out how to use his new abilities.

He designed his web shooters, being the genius he is with technology. You helped him with his suit, specially his mask.

You became his Gal in the Chair

You liked to fix up and personalise clothes. All of your pieces of clothings came from second hand shops and you gave them a make over doing all sorts of stuff on them to make them unique and yours.

You also did this with a lot of Hobie’s clothes. As well as teaching him how to use your sewing machine.

After graduating high school, you opened a small alternative clothing shop in with unique pieces, doing the same thing you did for your clothes on this one. As well as doing hand made jewerly like bracelets, necklaces and earrings. You also had a talent with plants, managing to almost magically bring plants back to life and reproduce them like crazy, you added selling plants into your small business.

As Spider-Man gained traction, he low key promoted your work to his followers and people who agreed with him. This in order to keep negative attention from falling on you, and keep bad guys from thinking and theorising that maybe you knew Spider-Man.

As a side gig, you educated yourself on coffee making, and learned about the different processes and types of coffee beans there were. It started as a hobby, but soon you also implemented that into your shop.

The fact that you were so versatile, made Hobie feel incredibly proud of you. You seemed to be so independent, and creative and that never ending curiosity and passion made him harvest feelings for you.

Eventually, the close friendship, and companionship grew into affectionate and romantic feelings.

Hobie was always flirty, but it wasn’t until now that you started behaving differently. Normally he played his electric guitar but now you found him playing his acoustic guitar more.

He showed you a song he wrote. And while it was unusual —however, not imposible— to hear a romantic song coming from him, it wasn’t until the first minute that you realised the song was about you.

That’s how he chose to tell you about his feelings.

He didn’t intend for it to be this romantic, he simply one day word vomited the song and used one free afternoon to add the music.

After hearing his song, it was actually you who grabbed him and kissed him.

More than satisfied with the outcome, he kissed you back, put his guitar down and pulled you over his lap.

You two became inseparable since. You already were, but now it was more evident.

You worked at home, doing all the creative things you did, selling them, helping Spider-Man with art shows and gigs.

Those who paid close attention, they were able to determine you were some sort of associate to Spider-Man. However, all of them were also punks and anarchist so of course they kept their mouths shut. Spider-Man was always looking out for those in need. They were going to help a brother back and not tell anyone whenever any authority or weird-looking threat asked if anyone knew Spider-Man, or someone close to him.

You became widely known between Spider-Man supporters, although none of them would ever dare to snitch on you.

After Hobie met Gwen, she brought her over, you two became close friends right away. Letting Gwen crash at your place more often than not. She even offered to help you with the dishes and the groceries as thanks for letting her stay.

“You’re Hobie’s friend, you’re welcome whenever you want,” You’d told her.

Pav was also a frequent visitor. He loved your coffee, he taught you how to make chai. And you had chai ready for whenever Hobie told you Pav was going to be there.

Pav also bought plants from you all the time. Most of them for his mom. He once asked you if you could make a set of earrings and a necklace for his mom.

The set was a success and Pav always told you how much she loved them,

Eventually Miles also came around. And it wasn’t until Miles met you that his suspicions of Hobie and Gwen dating dissappeared.

Miles saw the absolute pure love with which Hobie looked at you. He still made the same sarcastic and cheeky jokes while talking to you. But the way he looked at you was completely different to the way he looked at anyone else.

Hobie convinced Miles to buy a plant and some earrings for his mother.

“Listen mate, this is what my girl does for a living. Plus the world needs to learn to appreciate the handiwork of an artisan,”

Miles was even surprised at how Hobie still looked cool while being mushy and cheesy with you as he hugged you, kissed your head, or played with your hands or hair.

Hobie had zero fucks to give about what people think about him, he doesn’t give a shit about PDA. Gwen thinks it’s gross, Pav thinks it’s adorable, Miles is simply puzzled as to how he is still cool when seeing his parents doing the same thing would make him cringe so hard.

Hobie is amused by the different reactions he gets. Especially Gwen’s grossed out face.

He still loves kissing you every chance he gets. Whether if it’s kissing you passionately. A subtle peck. Sweet kissed on your cheek or your forehead.

#hobie headcanons #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #hobie brown fanfiction

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sectumsempraaa · 5 months ago

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And Now I Do

Pairing: Draco x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

TW: none really, pure fluff

Synopsis: You and Draco have been dating for a few weeks now. When you get a PT job in Hogsmeade, he disapproves of how much time it takes away from being together.

Word count: 2k (almost)

Hello everyone 🤍 This is my first fic ever! I've been reading all your lovely stories, fingers crossed I am half as talented as you all. Sorry if it's long? I'm a thorough gal. Enjoy :)

“Ugh, do you have to?” Draco groans into your neck as he sucks on your skin lightly, giving a gentle tug. You giggle, playfully pushing him away with a hand on his chest.

“Yes, Draco, I have to go to work.” you respond, as he gives you the biggest puppy-love eyes. You shift away from him because you know the longer you look at him, the deeper you’ll be under his spell. You two had just started dating a couple weeks ago and, to your friends’ dismay, very much want to spend every waking moment together. But you had also recently gotten a job in Hogsmeade at a coffee shop to make some money for yourself, since your parents’ vault at Gringotts was not the most… plentiful.

“Why did you get a job anyways? I could think of a thousand other, better, things we could be doing…” his voice trails off as he climbs across the bed and grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles, using his other hand to tug you by your shirt closer to him.You hum and shake your head, pulling away and stepping into your shoes next to the door.

“Because if we want to spend the holidays together, I have to be able to afford it.” He gives you a sympathetic look and sighs, dramatically falling backwards onto your bed. A pang of longing hits your chest and has you turning around. “And…” you saunter back to the edge of the bed, climbing up to straddle him. You feel his hands touch your thighs, crawling their way up your skirt. Leaning down, you take his face in your hands, your noses grazing. “All the gifts I want to get you.”

He smirks and sits up, engulfing your lips with his. The kiss becomes deeper with each stolen breath, you feel his hands grab your ass as your arms wrap around his neck. He smiles devilishly and whispers into your mouth, “I still think it’s rubbish.”

—

It’s been a few weeks now, the holidays drawing nearer. Late November at Hogwarts was always your favorite, and now it’s even better with Draco constantly cuddling you and taking any opportunity to wrap you in his Slytherin robes.

You’re in the library working on yet another essay for Charms class when you feel a familiar presence looming over you. You glance up to find Draco with both his hands leaning on the table in front of you, his smile fading quickly when he notices the bags under your eyes.

“Love, you need a break. Please take a break.” He begs as he slides your parchment towards him, forcing you to stop. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Your vision feels delayed, eyes moving around the room, with no sense of time. It could be midnight or five in the morning. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, working endlessly to catch up on school after your shift. You work nearly every day now until 8pm, usually starting assignments and working on them late into the night. It hasn’t become uncommon for you to fall asleep in the library or in an empty classroom.

“I’m fine, really, I just…” your voice fades to a whisper as your eyes start to close. Draco taps a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.

“Sweetheart, someone who forgets to take off their work uniform before diving into hours of homework isn’t fine.” You look down and notice you’re still wearing your apron from the coffee shop, covered in tea and food stains. Sighing, you lift your hands to your face, despite being too tired to be embarrassed.

“That’s it. I can’t stand to see you like this anymore. You’re not going to work tomorrow.” You hear him speak but it sounds so far away through the brain fog in your head.

“Can’t call out…” is all you could get out before your vocal cords give up.

You feel Draco walk behind you and start to untie your apron, resting it on his shoulder as he helps you out of your seat. “Arms, love.” He says as you wrap them around his neck, submitting to his instruction. He picks you up with one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. The last thing you remember is snuggling your face against his shoulder and breathing in the lingering scent of his cologne before you drifted off.

—

You wake up the next morning, but not in your room. You recognize the dark green wallpaper instantly as you raise your head off the pillow. You grab Draco’s watch off his nightstand and nearly fall out of bed when you see the time.

“Oh my god, shit, shit, shit,” you curse under your breath, looking around the room frantically to find you’re alone. You grab your apron off the back of his armchair and bolt for the door, trying not to think about how late you are for your Saturday opening shift. You make it to the common room and slam into someone while rounding the corner, yelling in the midst of your rush.

“FUCK, Theo!” you shout as his eyes widen and a boyish laugh comes out of his mouth as he steadies you with his arms on your shoulders.

“Didn’t know the angelic Hufflepuff could curse,” he says while looking down at you. Your face turning red, you blow past him to the common room door. He starts calling after you again but you have no time to listen.

“No need to run, cara mia…”

—

Entirely out of breath, you sprint your way off school grounds and all the way to Hogsmeade, trying to ignore the mess of hair sitting on top of your head and the racing heart beating in your chest. Right as you approach the door to the shop, you stop suddenly in your path when it opens in front of you, revealing a Draco that looks a little too pleased with himself.

“What… what are you…” you attempt to speak, choking on the dry air as it tries to fill your aching lungs. “Why didn’t you… wake me up?...” you manage to ask with a hand on your chest and the other on your knee.

Draco takes you in his arms, waiting a minute before giving you an explanation. “First, you need to come back down to Earth. Then I’ll explain. Gods, you look-”

“Careful.” You manage to interrupt him before he finishes the thought, throwing an angered glare up at him.

“Rested. Beautiful, and rested.” he says to you gently, enough to make you melt as he tucks a hair behind your ear while you catch your breath. He cups a hand on your cheek and you notice the smirk that hasn’t left his face since he walked out of the shop.

“Something’s up. What did you do?” you ask urgently, looking quickly between him and the shop.

“Why does everyone always assume I’m up to no good?” he jokes, earning him another angry glare from you.

“Maybe you are!” your eyes go a little wide as the volume of your voice surprises you. He takes a step closer to you, eyes narrowing, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him.

“Maybe I can’t stand to see you crumbling before me every night, maybe I’m tired of saying hello to my girlfriend in passing. Maybe I’m selfish and want you all to myself,” his words slow to a halt before giving you a knowing look. “And now I do.”

He lets go of your face, letting you step back with a face full of confusion. Eyebrows furrowed, you grow silent as you notice the shop owner behind the counter through the windows doing the side work you normally do each morning. Draco interrupts your puzzled thoughts by holding up a piece of paper to your face.

“I gave your two weeks.”

“You… what?” Your brain nearly shuts down. This isn’t real.

“Here.” He hands you an envelope, which you hesitate to take. Opening it slowly, your gut tells you that you already know what this is.

“I took your earnings to Gringotts this morning. The cash in your book bag. You can’t be carrying that kind of money around. We opened an account for you.”

“...we?”

“My father might have helped. Not many people can manipulate the bank, love.” You know he’s making playful banter but you’re still working hard to put the pieces together. You stare down at the check, watching a tear fall down to it, marking the paper. You didn’t have to ask about the extra couple of zeros that magically appeared next to what you actually earned.

“Don’t argue with me. You’ll lose. Let me, let us, take care of you. We can and we want to.” he says gently.

You look up from the check and receipts to the boy standing before you. A stern look on his face tells you enough. He’s right. You’re overworked, underpaid, and on the brink of failing classes. And maybe worst of all, you rarely get to spend time together. This isn’t benefiting anyone anymore. You just feel guilty that it took another person to fix it before you.

“Darling, as much as I’m a fan of the dramatics, I am starting to worry your silence is an indication of my quick and impending death.” he jokes, rubbing his chin with his hands.

“Okay.” you whisper.

He grabs a curl laying on your shoulder and twists it around his fingers. “Yeah?”

You smile up at him, quickly stepping onto your tippy toes to kiss him. His arms wrap around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides. Your kiss claims him, the only way you know how to thank him right now. This is your man, your man who provides. When you pull away, he rests his forehead on yours, relieved at your surrender.

“Yeah.” You let out a small laugh as the blush takes over your cheeks. A feeling of pride grows in you as you realize how much you’ve earned this. He took a huge risk in doing this at all, knowing how upset it could have made you.

“Good, because you really had me thinking I was a dead man there for a minute.”

“Mmm, maybe not dead but… a stupefy might have crossed my mind.” He laughs and pulls you in for a tight, warm hug.

You take his hand and lead him away from the shop, down the street towards The Three Broomsticks. He asks where you’re leading him to and, with a bright smile, turn back to him, walking backwards momentarily to face him. Your hand still clutched with his, he swings it back and forth.

“We are, finally, going on a date. And it’s on me. Yeah?” Biting your lip, you lift your eyebrows, waiting for his response. This time, it’s his face that goes crimson as he flips his hair, adjusting the buttons on his jacket to look more presentable.

“Yeah.” He stops and pulls you to him again, lifting and spinning you around this time, a loud laugh escaping your mouth. “Wait until my parents meet my girl. My wonderful, gorgeous, thoughtful, hilarious, and slightly threatening, girl. I can’t think of a more perfect Christmas present.”

“Hmm, that’s too bad, cause I was gonna buy you many, many more.” You kiss his cheek with enough pressure to make him burst into laughter again. He puts you down and looks at you seriously.

“Love, you’re smart enough to know I will beat you in that contest.” He reaches around your neck to untie your apron, letting it fall to the ground, leaving it behind.

��Yeah, he will.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #harry potter #slytherin boys #slytherin #draco #draco fluff #draco fic #draco malfoy fic #draco x hufflepuff!reader #slytherin boys x reader #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction #slytherin squad

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vickriarts · 4 months ago

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Hello disco darlings!! I'm here to announce Sapphic Disco Week, a week all about Disco Elysium gals!

I wanted to give folks enough time to work on their contributions, so it'll go from Aug 4th to Aug 10th!

This is somethin I've been wanting to do for awhile and I'm very excited to finally bring it to fruition. Don't feel pressured to participate or make somethin for all 7 days - this is all for fun!

I will be posting reminders once a week!

💜 Please help spread the word!! 💜

Please see under the cut for an explanation of each day's prompt:

💜 DAY ONE - FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER:

Self-explanatory! Draw a portrait or write a character story of that one chick from the game that really speaks to ya.

💜 DAY TWO - FAVORITE F/F PAIRING

Also self-explanatory, draw or write about the very special WLW couple that tugs at your heartstrings.

💜 DAY THREE - OUTFIT SWAP

A F/F pairing you like…but their clothes are switched! Would they rock the new fit? Would they have a weird reaction? Did one perhaps lend their jacket to the other due to a freak hot sauce accident? Have fun with it!

💜 DAY FOUR - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

BREAK OUT THE COFFEE SHOP AUs!!! How would your favorite WLW ship fare in modern day? What if they were TipTop racers? The worlds are your oysters!

💜 DAY FIVE - A DAY IN REVACHOL

How does the WLW pair interact within the game's universe? Do they hang out at or around the Whirling? Do they take strolls along the beaches? Early morning shopping trips to Frittte?

💜 DAY SIX - BUT WHAT IF IT WAS YURI?

Take your favorite M/M or M/F ship and hit em with the ✨yurification beam✨

Be it a cis genderbend(s) or trans headcanon(s), give the pair the ol' switcheroo into F/F!

(I expect most of these will be of a 💚certain duo🧡 lol)

💜 DAY SEVEN - FREESTYLE

For the final day, you can do WHATEVER YOU WANT! Write that tragic one-shot with no happy ending! Draw a F/F pairing as a meme! Maybe even create a spotify playlist! The floor is entirely yours.

#disco elysium #disco elysium fanart #disco elysium fanfic

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nwjnsloona · 4 months ago

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iced americano! -bang jeemin

saebi said she would pick yn up from her class but she forgot! yn was left to find shelter from the pouring rain, when suddenly, she spotted a cafe open. but what’s this? the barista is gorgeous!

TAGS— fluff, coffee shop au, kms/kys jokes, they’re just silly goofy gals

FEATURING— izna, vv brief mentions of hanbin

STATUS— on hold for now.....

profiles: yns babies | hag & co

01 — jobless vibes

02 — waiting

03 — On my way! (half written)

04 — dance team

taglist (open!) — @tzurelles @yerimbrit @sserajeans @edamboon @ourlovesarang @emphobics @yncoreee @rosiehrs @gtfoiydlyj @chaefims

#jeemin #jeemin x reader #bang jeemin #bang jeemin x reader #izna #izna x reader #jeemin smau #bang jeemin smau #izna smau

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sashaisready · 7 months ago

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This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!

You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.

You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.

“So…what’s your deal?”

He grinned, “What’d you mean?”

“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”

“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.

You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.

“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”

He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.

You both exchanged a small smile.

“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.

“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.

He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.

“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.

“No…guess not”.

You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…

…and yet…

“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.

“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.

Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.

You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”

“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”

“I do yeah…but…”

“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”

“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.

You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.

“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.

You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.

“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.

“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.

You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.

“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.

You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.

Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.

This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.

You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.

He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.

You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #this must be the place fic #biker!bucky #motorcycle club au bucky

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gilbirda · 2 years ago

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The Wonderous Beauty of the Statuesque Scarlet

Jazz knew she was tall. It wasn't like it affected her life or anything (sarcasm). It wasn't like she didn't end dates early because the dude asked her if it was really necessary for her to wear heels. Yes, she was tall. And strong. On top of that, she had duties as Ghost Princess, so finding a partner was not easy for her. Or so she thought until a guy just her type bumps into her and completely bluescreens.

[Read on AO3][Read on FF]

----

Jazz knew she was tall.

Even when she was in the waiting line of, let’s say, the bank and an old lady commented “wow you are tall!”; even when a date ended early because the guy kept asking why she had to wear heels if she was already tall; even when Danny threatened to kick her shins complaining about her inheriting their dad’s genes.

Yes. She was well aware she was very tall.

Thank you very much for pointing it out.

She was happy with her height, now — she had accepted that kids would look at her in awe and comment on her height, and that some would ask if she was an Amazon. And you know what? She embraced it now. Yes, she was tall, and big, and her biceps were noticeable — but that wasn’t because she was an Amazon, but because of all the training and the fighting that being the older sister of the King of the Ghosts entailed.

Not that she could say that out loud.

The thing is she was used to people stopping and staring at her, craning their necks and lifting an eyebrow, looking back down to check if suddenly the flat shoes she was wearing had magically turned into impossible high heels that explained her height.

What she wasn’t used to, though, was making a man completely bluescreen.

“Oops, sorry.” She quickly rushed to grab the dude’s arm when he stumbled after colliding with her.

“Uh…”

“I should have seen where I was going, sorry.”

He just kept looking up at her, eyes wide, body frozen in place. There wasn’t a single coherent thought behind those blue eyes. She would know, she was a psychologist.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh?”

She bit her lip, wondering what to do. This had never happened to her before.

“I… uh, I’m fine.” He finally blinked and came back to his body. She didn’t miss his eyes roaming towards her naked arms, and the bracelets on her wrists, official Wonder Woman merchandise.

“Ok. Then I should just—”

“Do you like coffee?”

She blinked. He blinked, slowly realizing what he said. His cheeks tinted a bit red in embarrassment.

“I’m more of a tea gal.” Jazz giggled, enjoying this maybe way too much. He was cute all flustered. It was a nice change from all the bullshit she got from men all the time.

“Do you want to— uh, I mean.” He breathed in, breathed out, gathering his thoughts. “What I want to say is, do you want to go for coffee — or tea! — with me?”

“Like, right now?”

She looked around. They were right in front of a coffee shop. He had been on his way in when she accidentally body slammed him.

“No! No. Not right now.” He looked away back at one of the tables set up on the street. Jazz turned to look as well, trying to see what he was looking at. “Maybe some other time?”

It felt nice being hit on like this. Refreshing.

Also, it helped that he was cute, and handsome in a bad boy way, with a leather jacket and combat boots. She wasn’t scared to admit to herself that she had a type and he checked a lot of boxes in her list.

“I would love to!”

She quickly searched in her purse for some paper — an old restaurant ticket — and a pen and wrote her number and her name, with a little smiley face.

“Here,” she grabbed his hand and put the paper with her number in it, closing his fingers around the ticket, just in case. Her hands were usually cold, a side effect of her liminality, but she hoped he assumed it was because of the weather. “I have to go, but text me soon!”

He smiled back at her, and Jazz knew she was a goner. He had this boyish crooked smile with a hint of a dimple.

She hoped he texted her back, once the awe of her height had passed.

***

“So…”

“Shut up.”

“I mean—”

“I said shut up, Dickhead.”

“She’s cute.”

Jason growled, his hands fiddling with the piece of paper with a phone number in it. He had to text her. Soon. If he waited then she would get the wrong idea that he wasn’t interested and he was very interested—

“She’s tall, huh?” His brother kept going, unprompted. “Did you see those muscles? I bet she could snap me in half. Hell, she could snap you in half.”

Yes. He had seen those arms. He had imagined them around him already.

“What are you waiting for? Text her!”

“We have a case to look over, though.” He tried to put the paper with the phone number in his jacket, but Dick was quicker and stole it from his hands.

“Jasmine. It’s a pretty name.” He hummed, considering. “Jasmine and Jason. It has a nice ring to it. Also both names start with J, funny coincidence, don’t you— Jay? What’s wrong?”

Jason had stopped listening, his mind going back to the conversation with her. He had been ridiculous and messed up everything; but did he really mess up something so simple?

“I forgot to tell her my name.”

Dick’s eyebrows went to his hairline, his lips stretching in a big smile. “That bad, huh?”

“Shut your mouth, Grayson.”

His reaction only made his brother’s smile get bigger, if that was physically possible. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his head on his open palms.

“Could this be love at first sight?”

“You know that doesn’t exist—”

“You are now living in a Hallmark movie, Jay.” Dick sighed dramatically. “So romantic.”

Jason breathed slowly, controlling his thoughts. If he got riled up by the teasing, he would only get even more teased and then the conversation would go nowhere useful. They had to compare notes for a case, it was kind of the whole point of meeting up with his brother, and both had things to do after this.

Jason thought the whole thing could have been an email; but again, if Dick hadn’t insisted on meeting at the coffee place because it was nice outside, he wouldn’t have gotten the phone number of the prettiest girl he had the pleasure of stumbling into.

“I’m living vicariously through you, just so you know.”

“Fuck off, Dickhead,” Jason snatched back the paper with the number and checked that it was still in one piece and the numbers hadn’t been smudged by his brother. It was fine. Even the cute smiley face drawing next to “Jasmine” was intact. “Let’s get to work.”

“I would, but someone forgot to get me my coffee~”

Oh shit.

Really?

Did he really forget to order their drinks? The one thing he had walked away from the table for?

Jason let his head fall onto the table, ignoring the laughs and giggles coming from his brother.

***

>>Hey.

>>Um

>>I'm Jason, the guy from the coffee shop?

>>Sorry for taking so long to text, I had stuff to do

>>Anyway, what do you think about next friday around 5?

>>You name the place

Jazz couldn’t help but smile down at her phone, reading back on the conversation with Jason.

She appreciated that he let her choose the meeting place, which was a good sign. After suggesting a nice coffee place that worked as a library as well, he commented he loved that place too and asked her if she had taken a book from there.

Turns out he loved books too, and didn’t shy away from any genre of literature — from classics to modern trashy romance.

His favorite author was Jane Austen. He tried not to geek too much, but after sending her a photo of his first edition Pride & Prejudice, that had a lot of sticky notes and his own annotations, she knew he was a big Austen nerd.

The contrast was more shocking when he turned up with a biker leather jacket, a white shirt, jeans and the same combat boots. He was combing back his flattened curls, complaining about parking in Gotham and that he hoped he didn’t make her wait too long.

She had to wait, but only because she arrived fifteen minutes earlier than the meeting time.

Not that she would tell him.

Jazz felt her mind become fuzzy as she watched him smile that crooked smile again, complimenting her carefully put together outfit — shut up Danny, she wasn’t trying to impress anybody — and the braid she spent so long trying to get right, undoing and redoing it.

“I have a sister that likes braiding her hair, and a friend of the family that usually comes over as well. They always complain when I don’t do it right.”

“Did they teach you how to braid?”

He chuckled, taking a sip of his latte. “Actually, funny enough, my little brother taught all of us. His mother let him do her hair and made him practice until he got it right.”

Jazz had a pinch in her chest like every time loving mothers were mentioned. “That’s nice,” her voice betrayed nothing as she looked down at her hands cupping her tea. “I tried to teach my little brother, but he didn’t have much interest.”

“Too girly for him?” He lifted an eyebrow, leaning in with a tiny smile so she knew he was joking.

She appreciated the change in topic, and she liked the opportunity to talk about Danny. “Nah. I mean, he had a ‘ugh, girls suck’ phase and stuff, but fortunately it didn’t last long.” Because then he had to become a superhero, but she couldn’t exactly say that.

Both laughed a little before a comfortable silence settled in their table. A few times their eyes met over the lids of their cups, making Jazz blush and look away.

“So… have you read anything interesting lately?”

From then on the conversation barely stopped. Jazz had never talked that much before, at least not about her favorite books and why she liked them. Jason listened, actually listened to what she said and added his own comments and corrections, no matter what she threw at him, showing he was also interested in the same things.

He talked as well, mentioning his own first edition collection and how his father let him have a private library with all the books he wanted. He talked around some topics, like his childhood or stuff about his father, but she didn’t want to pry. It didn’t feel shady, more like… it felt familiar, not wanting to bring up painful memories. She could understand that.

They asked for more coffee and more tea, and those chocolate chip cookies that looked delicious, talking and debating about the pros and cons of reading on a kindle or paperback.

The sun was low by the time they finished their drinks and the cookies, and neither really wanted to go home just yet. Jazz’s stomach grumbled. She was so hungry and the cookies only helped to awaken her stomach.

“Wanna… go have dinner?”

She looked up at him, blushing a little. “A coffee and a dinner date? You really are the full package.”

His cheeks tinted a bit red, but he didn’t look away. “Would hate to cut the night short when I’m enjoying my conversation with a beautiful lady.”

Jazz felt her cheeks catch fire. Jason had been cute and kind the whole time, but this was the first actual “move” he pulled on her.

And it was working.

She wanted to continue.

At her approval, they paid the bill — split in half, and he didn’t make a fuss about it. Good — and walked back out to the cold night in Gotham.

Jazz shivered a little. Maybe a flowery summer dress wasn’t the best for the night, but she didn’t expect being out so late. Time really flies when you are having fun, huh?

“Not used to Gotham's micro climate?” He commented.

She looked back at him, stopping her hands rubbing her naked arms. She had noticed he liked her arms so maybe the dress didn’t have sleeves. So what.

“How did you know I’m not from around here?”

“It’s obvious you’ve been in the city for a while, but your midwestern accent still stands out.” So he was observant, and had been analyzing her as much as she did him. “Do you want my jacket?”

It was so cliché that she just giggled. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”

Jason took off his jacket and extended it to her. It fit her frankly well! He was a bit shorter than her but he was more built and had wider shoulders, so the jacket sat comfortably on her body and gave her enough room around her arms and, thank the Ancients, around her chest. Maybe she should look around the men's section of the clothing store instead of getting frustrated with women’s clothing that never fit correctly.

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, which he acknowledged with a nod.

Now that he didn’t have the jacket, she could admire how the white shirt he wore left little to the imagination. It wasn’t too tight, but it creased in the right places and it let his muscular arms really shine.

He hit the gym regularly, that was obvious, but he wasn’t obsessed about it. He carried himself with the confidence of someone that knew what they had and didn’t need to make a show to get attention. Still, he carried himself with certain deliberateness — relaxed shoulders, quiet steps, head slightly down.

Jazz was used to Danny employing the same techniques to separate himself from his Phantom persona, to not be noticed just in case someone looked too close.

She was willing to set aside the thought. After all, Jason had been a delight the whole time and she had noticed many green flags in the time they talked. If he wanted to hurt her or if he was involved in shady stuff, she would have known already.

Also, it wasn’t like he could overpower her. She was strong. Stronger than a human, even with his size and probable training.

And Danny always said she needed to live a little. Maybe that meant dating around a bit, get to know new people, sleep with a cute guy—

Wow. That came out of nowhere.

She blushed, realizing she did like this guy. Enough to consider letting her hair loose a little. They were consenting adults, right? If he was interested and she was interested, then why not?

“Where do you want to eat dinner?” He asked as they arrived at his parked bike. And what a bike! She wasn’t an expert in these things, but it looked expensive and well maintained — well loved.

“I chose the coffee place, you choose the dinner place?” She shrugged, and the movement sent a puff of his scent to her nose. He smelled like gunpowder and engine oil.

Jason nodded and opened a side trunk to withdraw the helmets, giving her one. It was crimson red, matching the bike. “Alright, I know a place.”

***

Jazz was beautiful.

From the moment he arrived — finding her sitting at the table, looking at her phone — he understood why so many writers and poets could go on about the beauty of their partners. It would sound cliché, but his mind started comparing her soft looking skin to flower petals, and the pink of her lips—

Stop, Jason.

He knew she was smart and shared some interests with him, but he got the impression she was the shy kind over text and preferred meeting in person. He’d hoped that this date gave him a better insight into her character.

So they talked. For hours.

Honestly he didn’t have ulterior motives for this meeting. If it went well, he was interested in knowing her more, that’s for sure. It had been a while since he just hung out with someone for non-work related issues, and dating wasn’t really one of his priorities; but if this Amazon goddess liked his company as much as he had liked hers so far, he was willing to try.

The restaurant he took her to was cozy and not that well known, but the food was great. When they got there he couldn’t help but notice how she attracted everyone’s gaze, how her height and her beauty were such a beacon of light for the people around her.

She didn’t seem to care, though — her eyes were either fixed on her hands fiddling with the hem of the sleeves of his jacket or on him as she talked about the latest movie she had seen.

They sat down in a relatively secluded corner of the restaurant, the soft light hanging on the wall giving it all a romantic touch that was just perfect for the occasion.

Jazz took off his jacket now that they were indoors, and he lamented not taking a picture of her flowery dress and biker jacket combo. Maybe she would want to wear it again. He hoped so.

Silver lining, now she had her arms uncovered again, letting him — subtly — admire her biceps and her bracelets. She confirmed it was a Wonder Woman official jewelry line, and that she bought it to be funny but now was too committed to the bit.

Dinner was nice as well. After warming up at the café and talking about anything and everything, dinner felt a bit more personal, a bit of a deep insight of themselves.

She talked about her brother a lot. About her passion to become a great psychologist and the steps she had been taking towards her dream. About her parents — albeit she tried not to “be a bummer” and “get all depressed on such a nice date”.

She had a past she wasn’t ready to share, and he respected that, so he only kept his questions about her passion, her work and more stories with her brother.

It was around dessert that the conversation ramped down into more and more silence — not because they didn’t have things to say, but because, at least for him, the way the fairy lights illuminated her face was very distracting.

They shared a chocolate cake slice for dessert. She had a bit of chocolate on the corner of her lips, but she didn’t notice.

He didn’t think about his next move, he just leaned in over the tiny table and kissed the chocolate away. It helped that they had unconsciously gotten closer as they talked.

Her face was flushed when he sat back down on his chair, licking his lips. The cake was good, but her red cheeks looked tastier.

He wanted more.

“Um—”

Maybe she didn’t want more?

Jazz looked a bit lost for a second, her mouth open as she thought of what to say.

“Yeah?” He lifted an eyebrow.

She scrunched her nose, apparently having decided, and this time she leaned over the table, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a proper kiss.

Her kiss was timid, like she didn’t want to scare him away or expected him to push her away any moment. When seconds passed and instead of rejecting her, he placed his hand on the base of her head to angle her better, she got braver and bolder, pressing her lips against his with a little more intensity than before.

She wanted him.

“Ahem!” A throat was cleared next to them, breaking the moment.

Jazz jumped back to her seat, her face completely red, looking down at the table like she had done something wrong.

Jason smiled up at the waiter, who was smiling politely but completely insincere. He knew this waiter, they weren’t friends, but Jason knew he had a little brother and that he was a student at Gotham University.

“Is the food to your liking?”

“Very.” He wasn’t talking about the food. The waiter’s eyebrow twitched, but his smile stayed in place. “Can we please get the check?”

“Right away, sir.”

Jason didn’t even look at how much everything was, his eyes glancing back at Jazz’s face and her lips — the way she was biting them, the way her eyes were eating him whole.

The walk back to the bike was quieter, with many stops to kiss and many burning side glances and handholding. He couldn’t get enough of her giggles every time he pulled her down for a quick kiss, or the feel of her hands on his shoulders, her strong arms around him.

Finally they reached the bike, safely parked on a quiet alley. It was late and no one was around, so he pulled her into the shadows for a more proper kiss, letting himself get lost in the taste of chocolate on her tongue.

Jazz was biting her lip when they parted for air, mischief in her eyes, which should have warned him of what she would do next. The world spun for a second as she grabbed him by the shoulders, switching their positions and slamming him against the wall with maybe a bit more strength than was necessary.

A traitorous moan escaped his throat.

“Oh?” She smiled. Of course she heard him.

“Don’t say a word.”

Her smile got wider. “Okay.”

In the heat of the moment she got bolder. She kissed him without any ounce of the shyness she had during their date — she was ravenous, eating him completely, holding him firmly against the brick wall.

He was warm, too warm, and the cold wind was starting to get uncomfortable.

“Do you… wanna continue?”

Jazz nodded, panting. “Your place or mine?”

***

The sun was shining right on her face, and since she was an early riser, no matter her activities last night, she was now wide awake.

That didn’t mean she had to get up from bed just yet. Because she didn’t want to.

Jason was also awake in her arms as they enjoyed the quiet lazy morning, hearing each other breathe, feeling each other’s warmth.

It was quiet in the apartment, a big contrast to the night they spent together. Jazz blushed and nuzzled her face against Jason’s curls in an attempt to hide from the world. She really got carried away, but there was something about him that made it impossible to resist — they only had one date, for Ancients’ sake.

He was so sweet and caring and cute and handsome and very irresistible. She just couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop, and more than once she had to catch herself before she hurt him or did anything that was obviously inhuman. If she slipped, she hoped he forgot about it, too buried under the pleasure and the distracting activities from last night.

Jazz was positive that she had left some scratches and bites on him, and a quick look confirmed that his back and shoulders were—

Wait.

These looked at least a day old, almost completely healed. She knew wounds, she knew how long it took for a human to heal from what she did to him, and this was closer to what she expected from Danny’s partners’ healing factor.

She tried to not freak out, but he noticed her tense up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He turned around, eyes searching to see what was wrong, clearly not buying her shaky voice.

She saw the moment he noticed something was wrong about her, his eyes going down her face and staying on her neck, one hand reaching to touch the skin on her left shoulder. She could still feel the ghost of the bite in that area, a bite that probably had already healed by the morning.

By the way Jason’s eyes went wide, she knew he noticed the inconsistency.

Uh oh.

“What—?”

“I can explain.” He should, too, since he wasn’t normal either. Maybe he wasn’t human?

Not that it would make her less interested, but she was curious.

“Are you a metahuman?”

Jazz made a face. “Technically, no.”

He narrowed his eyes and shuffled away from her, his body tense. “What are you?”

“Something else.” She didn’t want to keep it vague, but she didn’t know who he was or who he could be working for. “And you?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed further at the accusatory tone. Jazz didn’t like how the quiet morning had turned to this, but if her security — and Danny’s — had been compromised, she had to push her feelings for Jason to the side. Danny was more important.

“You targeted me?” He now had a knife. Where did that come from? “Was the whole ‘date’ thing a set up?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His eyes flashed green for a second. If she blinked, she would have missed it. “Don’t lie—”

“Wait.”

“What?”

Jazz lunged in, ignoring the very real and very sharp knife Jason had in his hands. If he stabbed her it would heal in a minute.

She placed her hands on his face, focusing, trying to see in the blue if the green would manifest again. She ignored him as he started to protest — vaguely registering that he put the knife away — humming in thought. Just to test, she let her core send a ping, a small wave of energy, only meant to say ‘hello’ to nearby ectoentities.

Jason somehow answered back, his eyes becoming green for a second.

“— the actual fuck is going on?”

Jazz blinked and came back to the situation, finally noticing she was almost straddling the man, her hands gently but firmly cradling his head. And she was still naked.

“You died.”

Jason’s cheeks had been slightly tinted pink, but now he was white as a sheet.

“How—”

“We’re the same,” Jazz made a face, “technically. I haven’t died, yet, but I do have one foot in the grave so to speak.”

“And you think we’re the same because…” He wasn’t believing her fully, but just enough to not pick up the knife again.

“Your eyes, they do this.”

She let her power flow freely, not needing to hide her inhumanity anymore. She saw the moment he understood, because his tense body relaxed and basked in her presence, her emotions projecting the calm and slight joy at finding someone like her.

His eyes swirled green in response to hers.

“I… I don’t—” he tried to speak through the stupor, “I’ve never—”

“You didn’t know?” About liminality, about ghosts, about people like her.

He licked his lips, blinking to refocus. “What are you?”

He really didn’t know. Someone would pay for letting him wander alone without guidance.

“I am Jasmine Nightingale, a liminal human.” His eyebrows went to his hairline. “I was born human but events led to me becoming deeply acquainted with the dead and everything in between. Like you.”

Maybe it was the influence of her aura still filling the room, or her serene voice, but he believed her.

“So you approached me—”

She hated that he looked hurt at the thought.

“I didn’t target you. I didn’t know you were like me until just now — I usually seal my liminality when I’m in the living world.” One of her hands moved to grab the white streak that now looked so obviously inhuman. “I should have known,” she chuckled, “the only good guy I manage to have a decent date with is not completely human.”

He frowned at her comment, making her freeze. Jazz quickly recoiled and withdrew her power, watching as he noticed the change.

There were a few moments of silence where she let go of him and waited as Jason pondered the new information.

His eyes were blue when he looked back up. “You’re not quite human,” she nodded. One of his hands lifted to touch her face, as if he was trying to make sure she was still the same person. “And I’m like you.”

“Kinda.”

He hummed. Birds chirped outside, reminding her that this was supposed to be a quiet morning in bed with the cute date she somehow scored. Nothing can be simple with her, huh. Figures.

“You really didn’t know about me?”

It was something in his eyes when he said it — a guarded sadness. She had seen that look a few times on their date, usually when he obviously changed the topic of conversation. He had been hurt before, and he lived life waiting for the moment someone else would hurt him again.

“I swear on my life, Jason. I only said yes to the date because I thought you were cute. Nothing else.”

His mouth twisted. “I’m not cute.”

“Yes you are.”

He rolled his eyes, letting go of her face and slumping back to rest on the pillow. “Am not.”

She leaned in, her long hair sliding over her shoulder and making a barrier that shielded them from the sunlight coming from the window. She felt his eyes roam through her face and down her body, reminding her that she was as naked. And so was he.

When he looked back up, his gaze was burning with reignited desire.

“Should I spend this fine morning convincing you?”

His breath hitched, the muscles of his stomach tensing in anticipation. “Nothing you can do will change my mind.”

Jazz’s smile widened when she caught the playful tone in his voice. He wanted this. He wanted to continue. And maybe a repeat of last night.

Alright then.

This time she didn’t need to hold back.

She let her hands rest on his shoulders, pinning him down to the mattress. She used a bit more strength than what was necessary, but not enough to hurt; just enough to make the point that if she wanted, she could do so much more.

By his sudden blush going all the way up to his ears, he got the message.

Jazz licked her lips, ready to devour that cute smile and every sound she could force out of it.

***

“Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.”

Jazz looked down at their entwined hands, squeezing Jason’s fingers, trying to ground herself.

It was silly being this nervous — it wasn’t like they were teenagers. If her boyfriend’s family didn’t approve of her they couldn’t actually do anything. Not that they would disapprove. Jason was sure they would love her, he told her so too many times on different occasions.

But it was… an experience. Knowing that your boyfriend of a few months was part of the Waynes. She usually forgot because Jason didn’t frequent the Manor and had a life outside of the glitz and glamor, so it had never affected their relationship.

That was until they learned about her existence — Jason didn’t hide her, but he wasn’t going to share every bit of his personal life — and asked if she wanted to come over to dinner one day.

Jazz didn’t mind, so she said yes. After all, Jason already knew Danny and had “passed the vibe check”, Danny’s words, so she took it as a sign that it was fine if they became official-official.

Still, she was very nervous. This relationship had been the longest she ever had and she knew how important family approval was and it didn’t matter that Jason was a bit estranged from the family, it did matter for her anyway and—

“I can hear you panic from here.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“No. You don’t.” She rolled her eyes. “Are we doing this or not?”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her, not believing her at all, but let it slide. There was no point in arguing at the door.

“It will be fine.” He leaned so he could whisper. “They can be a lot but they’re harmless. Also I’ll protect you.”

She looked at him funny. Both knew she was the stronger one between them, a fact he very much enjoyed, so he didn’t mean it as in physical protection.

Jazz breathed slowly, taking in the offering of support. Jason would be there, he wouldn’t let them be mean to her.

Why the hell would they be mean to her? Silly Jasmine. They were just a family. Stupid rich, famous celebrities and very public faces in Gotham — but Jason’s family nonetheless.

She got this.

At her nod, Jason rang the bell and immediately it was opened by the butler. Alfred, if she remembered correctly. Was he on the side of the door, waiting?

“Welcome home, master Jason,” he nodded at them, “and Miss Jasmine.”

“Jazz is fine.”

The butler smiled, clearly not having any intention of using the nickname. Jason had warned her that Alfred could be a “petty motherfucker”, but that it was to the people he liked. She took it as a good sign.

“Please, come in.”

Jazz took another deep breath and walked into the gigantic Manor and straight into the fray. Maybe literally.

Inside there were so many people just looking at her, analyzing her, with various curious expressions.

“Told you she was real.” She heard what was supposed to be a quiet whisper, and a blonde girl elbowed a black haired guy next to her. Stephanie and Tim, going by Jason’s descriptions; which while colorful and varied in expletives depending on how mad he was at them, were actually very accurate. “Pay up, bitch.”

The guy grumbled but placed a few bills in her awaiting hand.

Jazz had to chuckle. That was weird, but funny. It made her relax a little.

“Ah, Jasmine, right?”

The voice made her look away from the people watching her like she was some kind of exotic animal (truly, what the hell was so interesting about her?) to find—

No.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Her liminal boyfriend’s adoptive father couldn’t be the actual Batman.

But the aura was the same, the same height and build, the same slight touch of death. Her eyes were sharp enough to catch the almost invisible and well healed scars on the man’s chin and the ones peeking from the black turtleneck.

He carried himself differently too, more relaxed, and if she wasn’t already onto him she would have been fooled.

Jazz smiled and shook the hand he offered, making a conscious effort to not squeeze his hand and reveal herself too quickly just to be petty. That was Danny’s thing. For now she would observe and behave like the perfect girlfriend.

They did make it hard, though. The whole Wayne clan was not what you’d expect from Gotham’s high society and acted more like a bunch of misbehaving kids in an unsupervised classroom.

It made sense now how Jason was so… so different than what you’d expect from the son of a socialite. At first he acted a bit guarded and checked that she didn’t take all the prodding and roughing between siblings and family friends badly; but once she laughed at the insanity he relaxed and let himself be part of the bickering like he belonged there.

She watched them interact, noticing the details that made it obvious now that the whole flock was a bat or bird — the question is who was who.

As she tried to play Guess Who with the Gotham heroes, it slowly dawned on her that Jason was another hero too. All the canceled dates and dodged questions about what he did in his free time. All his secrets and poorly disguised attempts at being subtle fit together in a single picture.

The Red Hood.

Danny was going to flip. If Jason hadn’t “passed the vibe check” already he definitely would have now.

Which she was more than fine with, if Jason was Red Hood. It actually made it easier for her to introduce him to the remaining secrets she was keeping from him until Danny gave the okay. After that night’s dinner, something told her that he would be fine with revealing herself to Jason.

Maybe Batman would stop being so difficult in the League meetings. The man had a thousand questions and didn’t trust anything they said, always asking for a second and third opinion. It didn’t become an open animosity because it was obvious it came from a place of caution and not hatred, but made the meetings drag for hours and Jazz’s royal armor was very uncomfortable to wear for so long.

Bruce didn’t seem to make the connection yet. If he did he was a great liar, because he did a one eighty from the dark vigilante and League member that drilled her and her brother with questions. He was more like… a hopeful puppy. Glancing between Jason and her, watching every touch and casual caress like a hawk.

Jason had mentioned that his relationship with his father had been very bad for a long time, but that they were working on it. Maybe he hoped that being nice to her got him cookie points in his son’s mind.

Whatever the case, she was going to have fun with this. As a treat.

***

Jasmine was… very tall.

Bruce’s mind was still repeating the moment she entered the Manor.Even at his six foot two he had to look up to smile at the guest. Not that he disliked tall women or thought that it was a bad thing, it was just an observation — maybe she was secretly an Amazon? Jason said he had looked into her enough to know that wasn’t the case; and had threatened with blowing up the Batcave if he dared investigate his girlfriend, so Bruce just observed. For now.

But she was too soft to be an Amazon, Bruce decided as the evening progressed. She smiled easily and didn’t have that constant battle-ready stance the Amazons he knew had. So he relaxed with the idea that Jason genuinely liked this civilian woman, she honestly liked him back, and she could be a good thing for his son.

If only he could shake the nagging thought that she felt familiar. Had they met before? He would remember meeting such a woman with striking red hair. She was definitely not a hero or Jason would have introduced her as such; nor she was a person that frequented the social circles Brucie Wayne did, given her humble origins and honest, hardworking job as a therapist.

It was something in her eyes, he considered by the time dinner was served. They were a shade of blue he had never seen before, and with the right light he could almost glimpse green highlights, but from this distance he couldn’t be sure.

In any case, Bruce decided she was good. Family oriented, unafraid to say what she was thinking, and with a dark sense of humor that Jason was completely smitten with. Bruce knew that look, his son was a goner whether he knew it or not.

She fit perfectly in their family, he decided as well, watching her bicker with Stephanie about some celebrity drama that Bruce didn’t know about, taking the knife Jason was waving in Tim’s direction without even looking at her hands. She flowed with ease in the chaos and had an answer for any question without revealing anything about herself she wasn’t willing to say. Among a family of detectives, that took some skill.

Bruce was curious about her, about where she came from, but for his son’s sake he was ready to set his paranoia aside and trust that she wasn’t secretly a villain.

He did such a good job once he made the decision, up until they were saying their goodbyes. Bruce was pleasantly surprised when Jasmine– when Jazz hugged him instead of doing a handshake. Her arms were firm around him and her height let her comfortably rest her head against his, a soft gesture far removed from Diana’s strong hugs against her muscled chest.

Jazz took a breath and said: “See you on Monday, B.”

This puzzled him. Monday? Why would he see her on Monday? Bruce was not needed anywhere on that day; in fact, Batman was supposed to be in Watchtower duty on Monday. And the follow up meeting with the King of the Ghosts.

When they parted, surrounded by the noise of the others messing around and bickering with Jason, it dawned on him as he saw her eyes from this close.

Green.

They glowed slightly green, unnaturally green, if you saw them this close. Her skin was pale, with freckles that reflected stars under the house’s lights.

He knew someone else that fit all of these characteristics, someone in his life as Batman.

Jasmine smiled widely, watching him put it together with mischievous glee. She patted his shoulder a little bit too hard for what was considered normal, and walked away to join her boyfriend out of the Manor.

Paralyzed, Bruce watched them go.

***

Jazz giggled against her hand, trying not to be too obvious.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ll find out soon.”

Jason looked at her weird but still continued walking to the bike, slightly swinging their joined hands, an extra spring to his step. This visit had been important, she knew, but hadn’t realized exactly how important it was for him. For all the trash talk and exasperation, Jason was a family man and valued the opinion and approval of the others.

And she had passed the test, if she had read their reactions well.

Well, let’s hope that the thing with Batman goes well too, since she needed his approval as well as Bruce Wayne’s. Funny enough Jazz was way calmer than before going to meet the family — Batman was just a man, and it simply wasn’t the same as meeting your boyfriend’s father. She didn’t have any reservations about fighting Batman if it came to it, he had been rude to her and her brother, and had lost all respect she had before they started the process of establishing a relationship between the Realms and the Living World.

But before she even considered what she would do the next Monday, Jazz knew she needed to have a conversation with Jason. If her suspicions were true and he was the Red Hood, whatever was going to go down with Batman was of his interest. Also, if they were going serious, he deserved to know about the Princess thing as well.

She waited until they were at his apartment to open her mouth about it. She let them both settle in, Jason shedding the jacket before going to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Jazz watched him, quietly standing at the door.

“Jason.”

He looked at her over the rim of the glass, eyebrows raised in question.

“We need to talk.”

He choked on the water.

***

“I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate, manwhore our way out of this one, Little Wing.”

At his side, Jason sighed and took off his helmet so he could comb back his hair as he gathered his thoughts.

They were trapped, and even if they could probably get out of the gang base in one piece, then they would lose this chance to finally bust the drug operation Jason had been working on for the last few months. The gang would be out of Gotham by sunrise and the drug would be distributed elsewhere anyway.

Dick didn’t blame his brother for jumping into the gang base like this — it had been a last minute decision and he didn’t expect this much resistance. At first he had been annoyed that he had to coordinate with Nightwing since it was supposed to be a simple thing; but as they finally infiltrated the base they realized it had been a trap. Jason’s informant had sold them out and they were waiting for the vigilantes.

Calling for backup from the other bats was not an option. They were either busy with their civilian lives and couldn’t help until it was too late, or were away on a superhero mission.

Jason was thinking something along those lines, because he was growling and grabbing on his hair, cursing under his breath.

They were hiding in an empty room in the abandoned office building the gang was using as a base. It was small and only had one window, and the door couldn’t be locked but they pushed a heavy desk in front of it just in case.

It was safe, but they couldn’t move. Inside the building there were too many armed gang members looking for them, and some of them had night vision gear. Outside, there were snipers posted on the roof and hidden in nearby buildings, and they didn’t know where exactly they were.

They needed help. But nobody could arrive in time. If only—

An idea!

“But we could malewife.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Dick turned to fully face his brother, the light pollution of the city coming from the window enough to illuminate Jason’s confused frown.

“Call Jazz.”

“What?”

“Yeah! She’s free right now, right?”

“Yeah because I stood her up!” He growled. “We were supposed to be on a movie date two hours ago!”

“So she’s free.”

“I don’t think you are focusing on the important part here.”

“She won’t be mad at you, she knows about the vigilante thing.”

Jason huffed. “That she knows doesn’t mean she won’t be mad.”

“You won’t know until you call~” Dick hoped his smile was reassuring. “I bet this is not the first time something is canceled because of your night activities.”

“It... It isn’t.”

“Was she mad, then?”

His brother looked at his feet, thinking for a moment. Finally, he said with a small voice. “No.” After another moment, he added: “She was very supportive, actually.”

Dick contained the instinct to squeal in joy. They were just so cute, the most adorable couple, and they fit so well with each other. Jason was the happiest he had ever seen him, ever; and when they were together his laughs were easy and his smiles were constant.

It didn’t hurt to know she accepted his brother in all aspects, guns and vigilantism included. Or that she herself was a protector of sorts.

The Princess of the Infinite Realms.

Not an Amazon as they suspected, but she sure was something else.

(It didn’t save Jason from being teased for dating a Princess, though.)

So it meant she was a hero too, or could potentially help them out of the situation.

“Good!” Jason looked at him, confused. “So call her and ask her if she can come and get us out of here.”

“I won’t force this life on her—”

“You kinda did the moment you guys came clean about secrets and went steady, Jaybird.” He patted his brother’s shoulder. “If she wasn’t willing to be a part of your life, all of it, she wouldn’t have said yes.”

Jason processed his words for a few seconds. With a defeated sigh, he put on the helmet again and connected the call.

“Hey.” Dick couldn’t hear Jazz’s voice clear enough to understand the words, but the tone was loud. “I know… I’m sorry.” Jason sighed. “Got caught up at work.”

Dick snorted as more loud words came from the helmet.

“I’m sorry, I thought it wouldn’t take this long— yeah, he’s here… really? Ugh.” He looked up at him. “Jazz says hi.”

“Hello~!”

“Dick says hi back. Hm… yeah. Yes. Can you? If you can’t— What, really?” Jazz was calmer as she spoke now. Jason’s body relaxed, so Dick took it as a good sign. “We are in a meeting room at the southwest corner of the empty office building close to the Elliot Memorial. The one with an antenna— Ok? Ok.”

“Tell her about the snipers.”

“Yes. There are snipers everywhere. Please, darling, be careful— Shut up.” He grumbled. “That’s not funny. No, I won’t say it— Okay,” he grumbled again and groaned loudly, one hand sliding down the face of his helmet, “you are right. Happy?” He hummed, ignoring Dick’s snickering. “See ya. Love you. Bye.”

With a sigh, he took the helmet off again.

“You guys are so cute.”

It was a testament of how long they’ve been dating, because Jason didn’t even blush at the comment, he just glared at him.

“She said she’ll be here in five minutes.”

Dick hummed. “Excited to see her in action?”

Now he blushed. “No.”

“Yes, you are.” And before his brother could continue bullshitting, he added: “I get you completely, though. There is something about strong women kicking ass— I’m not a coward, I’m man enough to admit that watching Starfire fight was a major turn on back when we dated.”

Jason scoffed and ignored him, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to get railed by a strong, tall woman, Jay.”

“Is this really the time and place for such conversation?”

No. It really wasn’t, since they were hiding in a shitty meeting room as hundreds of people were searching for them to kill them. But Jason’s face was getting more and more red and it was totally worth it.

“I just don’t want you to deny yourself—”

“My sex life is none of your business, Dickhead.”

There was a brief pause as Jason glared at him, the effect lost in his red cheeks.

“But do you?”

“Do I what.”

“Wish for her to pick you up and manhandle you as she wishes?”

Bingo. He looked away. “None of your business.” He repeated a bit more weakly. Dick bit back a smile, waiting for his brother to crack. It wasn’t long before he sighed and said: “She’s very into trying anything and has the strength to back it up. We had… talked. About things.”

“She has a strap, then?”

“That’s it. Conversation over.” Jason crossed his arms, huffing.

Dick raised his hands in defeat, still smiling. “Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t pry.”

His brother didn’t quite believe him, but let him be, turning to glare at the window as if he could make Jazz suddenly materialize with the power of his mind.

Fool.

As if they hadn’t already seen the bites and hickeys she left on him. Was he even trying to hide them? Tim’s theory is that he wanted everyone to know who he belonged to like some kind of kink going on. Not that anybody was judging! Everyone has their kinks and gods know that each of them has seen and knows too much about the others’ sexual lives — word traveled fast down the hero grapevine and the walls in the Manor weren’t as thick as you would think.

So far Jason had managed to stay safe from it since he was very private and the thing with Roy had been very lowkey — Dick still couldn’t forgive that he found out a year into their relationship, and neither had told him — but Jazz was now a regular at the Manor, between the whole Infinite Realms talk and Alfred taking it upon himself to teach her how to cook edible food, so the couple was around the family plenty of time.

“‘I wouldn’t mind dying if it’s between those thighs’, right?”

“What?”

“You. That thought must have crossed your mind, yes?” He shrugged. “It surely did cross mine more than one back when Kori—”

The window was slammed open, the long body of Jason’s girlfriend swiftly sliding inside in one smooth movement. She was tall, but she knew how to move.

“Hello, boys.” She breathed once she was inside, one hand pushing back stray locks that escaped her braid. “Sorry for the wait.”

She was not an Amazon, but Dick could almost believe she was at that moment. The casual stance she usually had, as if she weren’t sure where to put her long limbs, was now gone. In its place, Jasmine was secure in her skin, strong, wearing a teal bodysuit that shimmered under the light coming from the window, betraying it was not simple spandex. Over the suit she had pieces of black armor on vulnerable places — kinda like how Diana suited up, but without the signature colors of Wonder Woman and with pulsing, glowing runes engraved in the edges instead.

They knew she was a warrior, that the title of Princess of the Infinite Realms didn’t only mean ballgowns and pretty jewelry; but seeing was very different from knowing.

“Hello, darling.”

She zeroed on Jason as he stood up from the floor, dusting his pants. Jazz got to his position with a few long steps and picked him up, narrowing her eyes as if she were trying to decipher something difficult.

“Not hurt?”

“Uh-huh.” His brother shook his head. “Have a little more faith in me.”

Still, she quickly checked him for non-visible injuries, smirking when Jason winced as she squeezed his shoulder. Instead of chastising him for lying, she leaned in to kiss his helmet on the cheek, patting the other cheek twice.

“Not a word.”

“Uh-huh.” She said in the same tone Jason had used to dismiss her worries.

They were adorable.

“Not that I don’t enjoy watching you two, but we need to make a plan.” Dick had to say, even if he liked seeing his brother relax just by the presence of his girlfriend.

“Right,” Jazz stood back up to her whole height, back straight, looking out of the window. “I took care of the snipers on this roof and the ones I detected around here, but I didn’t stay to check if there were more.”

Dick would have done a full sweep before jumping in, but Jazz was not a Bat. He wouldn’t judge her as such. Also, they had time to thoroughly train her.

“They took our gear.” Jason sighed, probably missing his guns. And his jacket. “So we’ll need to parkour down the old school way.”

“Or I could carry you.”

The smile that stretched Dick’s lips was like the one he had when Jason face planted right after trying to do a dramatic exit.

“I’m in!” He quickly approached her, completely ready to be carried like when Superman or Wally did it. He jumped into her arms without waiting for her to say anything, chuckling when she caught him anyway.

“Jay?”

Resigned, Jason sighed and walked to the pair. “I’ll wait here-”

Jazz could move fast, it turns out. Dick felt weightless as he was moved under one of her arms, watching with glee as she circled the now free arm around her boyfriend’s waist to lift him up with ease.

“This is exciting.”

“Shut up, Dickhead.”

“I feel like a little kid.”

“You behave like one.”

Jazz chuckled at their banter, walking towards the window. “Keep your arms in at all times during the ride and remember to have fun.”

She didn’t hesitate when she jumped out, the powerful leap rippling through her body, muscles tensing as they soared through the air towards the closest rooftop. Even if she said the thing about not moving, Dick decided to stretch his arms with a soft “wiii~” as he watched the street pass by far below them.

The landing was rougher than what the Bats were used to, but Jazz took the impact without flinching. Right. Inhuman durability. Undead Princesses didn’t have to worry about fucking up their knees.

She let them go, eyes already sweeping their surroundings even if she landed on a relatively secluded part behind some water tanks.

“We need to get back in.”

She turned towards Jason, expression unreadable. Dick saw her eyes run over his brother’s body, worry shining in her eyes, one eyebrow twitching slightly as the only sign of her actual emotions. She was trying hard to not show her thoughts, which was weird since she was usually very forthcoming as a civilian.

Princess. Jasmine was really a Princess. Dick understood the need to show a strong front when in a position of responsibility, he knew he also changed when he was acting as his team’s lead; but as everything about her other life, seeing was different from knowing.

Was this how people felt when they learned about them? When Brucie Wayne turned out to be The Dark Knight? Dick’s head was struggling to merge the picture of the warm presence of Jason’s cute girlfriend and this warrior princess.

“What do you need me to do?”

It was subtle, but Jason’s shoulders dropped with relief. He expected her to fight his decision.

His face was soft as he took off the helmet to look her in the eyes. “First we need our gear and they’ll probably have it still in the room they took us to.”

Jazz nodded. “Want me to get in and fetch it for you?” She said as if she were asking him what he wanted from the grocery store. He nodded, one hand extended to brush stray hairs behind her left ear. “Give me five minutes then.”

The air was charged when their eyes met, and Dick couldn’t look away. It was magical, in a way, how her blue eyes started to glow like some kind of bioluminescence, the shine low enough to barely illuminate Jason’s face as he got closer to her.

“Meet you here in eight minutes. We’ll do a sweep in the meantime,” Jason’s voice got low to match the sudden moment they were having.

“Ok.”

Their lips met and Nightwing finally looked away. He couldn’t even find the energy to make a comment or coo at them. It was soft, it was real, and, most of all, it was private.

He wouldn't be surprised if those two announced they were getting married within the year.

He looked back just as Jason’s boots were again on the roof, Jazz’s arms retracting from where she had circled them around his waist to lift him closer to her lips.

Cute.

But they had to get moving.

Dick cleared his throat, making them jump.

“Right. Um, I’ll get to it. See you guys in a bit!”

Without further comment, she jumped over the roof and landed without making a sound on the base’s brick wall, quickly crawling towards the same window they had jumped out from. Her movements looked weightless, like she was strong enough to move her body with fine precision. Or maybe it was a ghost thing, since Jazz’s brother apparently could fly.

The rooftop was quiet until they lost sight of her.

“I want to be the Best Man.” He turned to look at his younger brother. “I already have ideas for my speech.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about.”

In response, Nightwing started humming the Wedding March as he flipped away, just in time to hear gunshots and destruction happening inside the building, probably following the spitfire of a girlfriend that literally crashed into Jason’s life.

---

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