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deanmarvolowinchester · 3 years

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Coming out.

(Dean decides to come out to Sam about his secret relationship with Cas.)

Dean sat shaking on the full size bed in the shabby motel that he and Sam had been staying at for the last three nights. Dean bobbed one of his bow-legs up and down out of nerves. He had already meticulously cleaned himself, scrubbing every inch and even scraping the dirt from under his fingernails that he can never manage to keep clean given the many graves he has to dig on a monthly basis. He had already tidied the cluttered room and paced so much he thought surely he’d ware through the old shag carpet. These were all things Dean would do when he felt anxious and out of control. Dean very much enjoyed the feeling of being in control. He liked the reliability and stability he was able to wield when being in control of a situation, or the very least in control of his emotions. It is not as if he hadn’t felt out control and anxious before, he was a hunter after all. It is not as if he had never run in to sticky situations on a hunt, and there was certainly no controlling Sam when he set his mind on something. Still, this anxiety was different. Dean took a deep breath as he mulled over in his head what he had been planning for weeks. Cas had begged to be there at his side when he finally told Sam, but Dean would have none of it. He wished for this moment of complete vulnerability to be shared only between him and Sam. “Sam...” Dean thought and began to absently chew on his already too short fingernails. “What the hell is Sam gonna say? Is he gonna be shocked? Angry? Or worse... disappointed?” The thought was too much for him. Dean arose and walked over to the mini bar. He opened the fridge and cracked open a small bottle of whiskey, pouring the contents into a flimsy plastic cup. He sipped on it and tried to focus on the burn in his throat as it creeped lower into his gut. Moments later the alcohol began to take effect and his muscle, which had been extremely tense up until that point began to relax. He took another deep breath. “But on the other hand... what if Sam’s okay with it? What if he’s... happy? Maybe even proud?” A small smile spread across Dean’s face. He pictured what his life would be like if the brother whom he has devoted so much of his life to love and protect could truly love him back when he reveals to him his true authentic self. He pictured late nights out at bars, Sam and Cas laughing together at a joke he just made. He pictured road trips in the Impala and hunts; holidays and birthdays and movies late at night. He, sitting on the couch which Cas leaning against his chest. Arms and legs intertwined in a lose but affectionate embrace. He imagined kissing the top of Cas’s head, and Cas looking up to return the gesture with a light brush of his lips against Dean’s. All while Sam seeing but not reacting, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. And of course it was normal. Dean loved Cas and had for years. They had stolen kisses and nights together every so often, but they had never been able to be together in public. Dean wasn’t ready to come out to Sam, and Cas being ever patient had graciously waited. It wasn’t that Dean was ashamed or embarrassed; he knew lots of people in the lgbtq community and loved every one of them. It was that he was scared. Fear that had yet to be resolved since the death of his father. He knew deep down that John would never approve of his bisexuality, and although Sam was different, Dean couldn’t help but see hints of his father’s face in Sam’s when he was displeased. Even though Sam was nothing like their old man, Dean couldn’t bear to see John’s eyes in Sam’s if Sam took the news poorly.

It was then that the handle of the door began to jiggle, jolting Dean out of his thoughts. Sam was back and unlocking the door. The door swung open and Sam carried in what appeared to be bags from the fast food joint down the road. Sam kicked the door shut and threw the keys to Dean’s baby on the table. “I got us something to eat.” Sam said. “Oh... ahh awesome.” Dean responded, trying to shake off the nerves and look as normal as possible. Sam set down the food, pushed back the hair that had fallen into his face, and looked at Dean. “You okay?” Sam asked with confusion and a note of concern in his voice. “Who me? Yeah! Corse! Why?” Dean hastily replied. “I don’t know... you looked worried I guess.” “Oh well we’re hunters Sam... when are we ever not worried?” Sam shrugged and turned to collect his food from the bag. While he fiddled with his wrapper he suggested to Dean that they watch The Loan Ranger. He had seen in a t.v. guide that it was going to be on that night, and was excited to tell Dean given that Dean had a deep appreciation for westerns.

The brothers watched in silence as they ate their dinners. Sam was seemingly as engaged in the story as ever, meanwhile Dean was a wreck. He tried to slow his heart rate with calming breaths and another bottle from the mini bar, but his stomach was still in knots. The movie ended and as the credits rolled, Sam shut off the television and spun to meet Dean’s nervous gaze. “Alright. Spill.” “What?” Dean asked. “C’mon man. You’ve had two drinks and you’re still jittery. What’s up?” “Sam I... I don’t...” Dean trailed off. “Dean, you can tell me anything. I’ve seen it all.” “Well, Sammy, this is different...” “Different than Lucifer and hell?” “Well, yeah.” Sam took an exasperated breath. “Dean...” Sam looked at his brother. Typically Dean’s expression was stern, solid as a rock. Dean was always the brave one, always the confident one. That’s what made him Sam’s hero, but now all he saw in his brother was childlike fear. Sam softened. It was clear that whatever Dean had to say didn’t have anything to do with demons or monsters, it had to do with something Dean found far more terrifying... feelings. “Dean...” Sam said again, but this time softly. He met Dean’s eyes and gave him the same reassuring look that he usually reserves for the grieving family members of the victims who’s murders he’s so skilled at solving. There was a long pause as Dean gathered his thoughts. “Sammy... I... I don’t know where to begin. I... ummm... Ya see... I’m sort of in love...” another long pause. Sam stayed quiet giving Dean the space to speak his truth. “I... ummm... well for a long time now I’ve known, but never told anyone.” Dean pauses again. “I was so afraid of Dad. He had such strong opinions about what a man should be like and... and I never thought that I could express, or that I could even have... Sam... I’m... I’m bisexual.” The last word hung in the air. You could have heard a pin drop. Dean couldn’t breath. Terror spread across his body. He was out; his secret a secret no longer. He analyzed Sam’s face, searching for clues as to what he might be thinking. The worst possible thoughts swirling in his head. But instead of being met with judgement and rigidity, a warm and inviting smile spread across Sam’s face. “Dean...” Sam said with audible happiness in his voice “I’m so glad you told me. I’ve had my suspicions for some time. Dean, I’m so proud of you, and I know you’re not into the touchy feely crap, but you’re always gonna be my brother, and I’m always gonna love ya.” Sam chuckled “Who’s the lucky guy?” Dean blinked. He was preparing for the worst and was shocked to see that it was the best. “You mean it? You’re still okay with me?” Sam scoffed “Of corse! What? We’re you expecting me to get mad and throw something at you? Ya know just ‘cause I look a little like dad doesn’t mean I’m him, man. No. I think it’s great. Now I don’t have to see you strike out with every hot waitress we come across.” “Hey I pick up more girls than you, and I said I’m bi! Dude, I still like chicks, I just also like dicks. Like Freddie Mercury, Man, I swing both ways, which means there’s twice as much ass I can get, while you’re options are limited.” “Whatever. Just tell me who your boyfriend is. I think I should meet this man who’s got my brother all twitterpated.” Sam mocked. “Well... ahhh... you already know him actually. It’s Cas.” “Cas?” “Yeah. Why?” Dean said defensively. “Nothing. I just thought Cas would have better taste.” “Oh ha ha. You’re one to talk. You literally fucked a demon.” “And evidently you’re fucking an angel. Now one of us needs to bang a Leviathan and we’d have a biblical bingo.”

At that moment Cas appeared. “Dean?” Cas asked. It was obvious that Cas was asking if Dean had informed Sam of their relationship. “Yes. It went better than I could have imagined.” Cas beamed and strode across the room to embrace Dean. His hand slipped down Dean’s arm and his hand landed in the warm grasp of Dean’s. “Now Cas...” Sam said in a overly dramatic serious voice. “... if you break my brother’s heart, I’m gonna have to break your face.” Cas sighed as he traced the faint scar on Dean’s collarbone. “I don’t intend on breaking anything of Dean’s.” Dean blushed scarlet at that comment. Cas moved his fingers to Dean’s cheeks which were hot with blood flow. “Did I embarrass you?” Cas said in an apologetic voice. Dean looked down in shame. He wasn’t meaning to upset Cas. “No no!” Dean said quickly. “I’m just not used to... ummm being affectionate with anyone in front of Sam.” “Oh.” Cas replied. “Well don’t stop being blissfully happy on my account. Lord knows Dean’s happiness is always pretty fleeting.” Sam said with enthusiasm. “Yes. Well I’ll see to extending those periods of happiness as best I can.” Cas replied to Sam. And at that, Cas grabbed Dean’s chin and pushed it close to his. He leaned in, and slowly planted an affectionate but appropriate kiss on Dean’s soft lips. There will be more opportunities for inappropriate kisses later, but for now, Sam was watching and Cas didn’t want to make either of his favorite humans too uncomfortable. The two pulled apart, and by this time Sam was sitting at the table and flipping through t.v. channels trying to give them some space. “Thank you for being patient with me.” Dean breathed. “Dean, I waited to meet you for six billion years. I would have waited twice as long if it meant you’d be ready and that Sam would be on board.” Cas glanced over to Sam and smiled. “I’ve grown quite fond of our little family.” He looked back at Dean with a gleam in his eye. “Team free will, and here we are, finally free.” A huge grin stretched across Dean’s face. “I love you.” Dean said. “I know.” Cas replied, quoting his favorite character from the Star Wars movie Dean made him watch on their last date, and this time it was Dean who pulled Cas in for a kiss.

#castiel #dean winchester #dean winchester is bi #destiel #cas dean #heller #jensen ackles #misha collins #destiel fanfiction

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365days365movies · 3 years

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January 4, 2021: First Blood (1982) (Part I)

War. War never changes.

OK, so, going into this movie, I know a few things.

Sylvester Stallone plays John Rambo, a Vietnam veteran with massive PTSD, in one of his most famous film roles.

Rambo wages a way against a group of local cops after being arrested for some reason.

There’s a bunch of badass antics and cool stuff.

That’s all I got. Well, I also always had the impression that this is one of those college frat boy douchebag movies, where said demographic will always espouse how badass Rambo is. So, those are the expectations I have going in. But then...I do have to wonder why this movie is also lauded as one of Stallone’s best. It’s also one of the earlier action film dynamos of the 1980s, and it couldn’t have just earned that through pure badassery, right? Well, in any case, I’m ready for some mindless violence! WHOOOOOOLET’SGO!!! SPOILERS!

Recap

Just watching the opening, I’m realizing how surprisingly calm it is compared to the action movies that I’ve already watched. Even Cliffhanger, for what it is, started with Sylvester Stallone clinging to a goddamn mountain. But this view of a calm pristine lake and a content-looking Stallone watching families play...it puts me at ease immediately. Which is probably going to seem ironic in a few moments.

John Rambo (Stallone, of course) is looking for an old friend from his unit in ‘Nam, only to find that he died of exposure to the insiduous Agent Orange. And it is at this point that I realize I am NOT PREPARED for this film. Immediately cuts the goodwill I had from the calm opening with the Knife of Sobering Reality. And that’s a Legendary item, I tell you what.

Rambo makes his way to a mountain town called Hope, and the sheriff (played by Brian Dennehy) immediately makes it clear that he’s the villain of this picture, as well as being a massive asshole. I also immediately want to see him get punched. So very hard. The sheriff immediately shows a hatred for those he calls “drifters,” and I actually think it’s a specific hatred for veterans. Why? Never truly explained. In any case, he tries to get Rambo out of town, but when he comes back just because he wants some food, he’s immediately unjustly arrested.

What follows is...unexpectedly and extremely uncomfortable, given various events during the hell-year that was 2020. I’m not kidding when I say that the scene when the Sherriff arrests the innocent John Rambo gave me...shivers. And wow...I didn’t expect this. I know I should be trying to be funnier here, but..watch that scene again, with fresh 2020 eyes. You’ll see what I mean.

Rambo’s disarmed and brought to the station, constantly being insulted by the Sheriff and other shitty policemen. And as he’s being treated poorly, our first Vietnam flashback happens! And it’s triggered by...police brutality...

I...uh...HEY LOOK IT’S HORATIO (DAVID CARUSO) FROM CSI: MIAMI

Seriously? That’s the second time a CSI: Miami actor has shown up in a Sylvester Stallone film! Neat. Gonna be on the lookout for them now. Anyway, my discomfort grows as Rambo continues to be treated as less than human by the police of this little nowhere town. And I’m aware that there will be an extended fight sequence against them in this movie. And lemme tell ya, I’m looking forward to seeing Brian Dennehy get punched in the face, MAN.

And then Galt (Jack Starrett) hits Rambo in the back with the police baton, and they spray him down with a high-powered fire hose, and...

I’m sorry. I, uh...I wasn’t expecting this. I had to pause the movie and walk away for a minute. I knew that the cops were involved, and I expected Vietnam War flashbacks, but…yeah. I’ll explain later why this affects me so much, if you haven’t already guessed.

Whew. OK.

Back to the movie, with renewed expectations, the cops forcefully hose him down and are about to shave him, with Galt showing his extremely sadistic nature. This unsurprisingly leads to a psychological break caused by PTSD flashbacks to torture in a POW camp, because...YEAH. VIETNAM JUST HAPPENED, YOU GUYS. AND YOU KNOW HE’S A VET. DON’T WAVE KNIVES AT THE MAN, YOU IDIOTS.

Rambo escapes the police after literally fighting his way out, in a much needed cathartic sequence for me, then rides away on a stolen motorcycle, while Dennehy follows in high pursuit. And at this point, I realize two things. One, Dennehy is obsessed with getting this man who, prior to his interference (read: prejudiced bullshit), did absolutely nothing wrong. And that obsession proves self destructive as he crashes his car into a ditch, and Rambo escapes. And the second thing? Rambo’s running on instinct at this point. And my hunch is this: the last thing you want to do is make this man run off of PTSD-fueled impulse. Pretty sure that that’s gonna lead to trouble.

As Dennehy abuses his power and becomes Captain A-hole, his Moby Dick is improvising an outfit from fabric and immediately proving my point. Horatio, on the other hand, shows that he might be the only good apple in this particularly rotten bushel. A particularly well-funded bushel with access to a helicopter for a manhunt of this one dude. And in that helicopter is the psychopath Galt, who is making me think of the last year of this country’s existe-NOPE. PUSH IT DOWN, MAN, WATCH THE MOVIE.

Rambo escapes by going The Way of Sarah (Blessed Be Her Fall; check out the last review for that one), and lands in the trees, injuring himself on the way down. Galt continues to shoot at this guy, and Rambo throws a rock at the helicopter in self defense. This accidentally leads to Gant ALSO going The Way of Sarah. Which, wow, karma is an angry, ANGRY force in this film. One corrupt sociopathic asshole down. Woof.

Rambo surrenders, rightfully stating his innocence, and he gives himself up. AND THEN THEY ALL FIRE ON HIM ANYWAY. NOT TO MENTION THAT THE SHERIFF CALLS HIM BOY AND I NEED TO STOP THE MOVIE FOR A MINUTE.

OK, so after these absolute ASSHOLES shoot Rambo, it’s revealed that Rambo is a Green Beret and a war hero who fought for our country in Vietnam! And instead of acknowledging that he’s a piece of shit who’s over his head and did something that he ABSOLUTELY SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE, THIS ASSHOLE DOUBLES DOWN. Fuck these guys, wow. Except for Horatio...I guess.

See you in Part II! Of this review, not the Rambo franchise.

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ghouliethejoyboy · 4 years

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__HC: Club Lock-In__

Everyone knows that the most normal things you can get are in Zone 2. You can surf, actually let your hair down and enjoy the ocean breeze.. and by night, you can participate in the wildest parties in all of the Zones. Club Lock-In, by nature, is a fucking accident waiting to happen. Entrance is 50 carbons, but that's because once it reaches 10 P.M, entrance is cut off, and those inside can't leave until 6 A.M. 8 hours of unlimited booze, drugs, and even yes, food, await you. The songs mostly consist of old rock and roll, and the feeling of entering the smoke filled nightclub will immediately make you feel nostalgic for a time you never even lived in. There are several songs that are GARUNTEED to play every night, and there are several hazards to be aware of going into Lock-In.

The V-Rule:

If it is your first time there, you must be brought by someone who has already been there, and that person will eagerly scream "HE/SHE/THEY'RE A VIRGIN" which ends up with you getting a large v written in red lip stick on your forehead. This identifies you as a "virgin" to the Lock-In scene. This means you will be getting a lot of attention from the locals. Especially the drag queens, and Lock-In virgins must perform a right of passage that's usually not to hard, but embarassing. Making animal sex noises such as monkeys and polar bears, drinking from a beer bottle like you're sucking a dick (sometimes the bottle will be coming out of Jaggerbomb's pants, just to fuck with the virgins who act all scared) and of course, the time tested favorite of eating food from a complete strangers crotch. Clothed, of course.

Touch Me:

When you enter Club Lock-In, don't expect to be exclusive, even if you're there with your partner. You WILL get grinded on, groped, even kissed by complete strangers. Most people are good most of the time, but the real party starts when "Touch Me" by the doors starts. As soon as you hear they first "Hey!" everyone gets on the dance floor, and just up and down. When Jim sings "COME ON COME ON COME ON NOW TOUCH MY BABY" you're expected to sink low to the floor in a sexual way, everyone starts griding on each other, playing with each others hair, and for three minutes, the whole club screams along the lyrics as they grind, twerk, and grab. If you get dragged to your knees, just go with it, sex doesn't actually happen, but blowjob innuendos are a common dance during these 3 minutes. Anyone who isn't down will get kicked out by Jaggerbomb, the host.

The Jaggerbomb Hour:

During this hour, things get crazy. Naked waiters, waitresses and waitresers come out carrying plates of marijuana, LSD, coke, and pills basically anything but needles. If you're caught not taking something by Jaggerbomb, expect to be forced to chain-smoke from a waterbong. A whoooole toke of Iridescent Dream. You won't be able to stand for the rest of the night, probably not for the rest of the week. During the Jaggerbomb hour, Jaggerbomb can call up anyone on stage he likes, choose to put a collar and leash on them, and drag them around for an hour and essentially party as hard as he can with them. If you're picked, it's quite the honor, and you get to go to the VIP room, where the HEAVY booze is. Just be prepared to drink beer like you're sucking dick. Again.

The Drag Queens:

Yes, many of the patrons are drag queens, and often are the ones to bring around new virgins. Especially around Christmas, when "Santa Clause" comes and gives all the good boys and girls piercings and tattoos for free. Entrance to the Christmas Party costs upward of 100, 150 if you bother Jaggerbomb. Drag Queens are expected to show their virgins a good time, and they even have their own song that comes on every night. The Time Warp, from Rocky Horror Picture Show, is a song for Drag Queens and Virgins only, and by the end of the night, the pelvic thrust will indeed, drive you insane. You will have the dance FULLY memorized by the morning, and if you don't, lessons with Jaggerbomb are always an option. Because he won't let you leave if he saw you not knowing it last night. That's why they play it twice, to make sure EVERYONE knows it.

Sports Song & Don't Stop Me Now:

This is the last song before everyone is released in the morning, Sports Song, a parody song by Weird Al off the album mandatory fun is very symbolic of the pre-days, of team mantras and football, but the Joys have adopted it to be a rally call to Joys to believe in themselves, and go out and fight hard despite their raging hangovers. Don't Stop Me Now is the song played when everyone first enters, to get them all hyped up, and if you don't know the words, don't be surprised when Jaggerbomb calls you up onstage and forces you to wear a fake mustache just like Freddie Mercury for the rest of the night.

We Didn't Start The Fire:

This song is probably one of the contributing features as to why the club gives off heavy nostalgia. The whole song is about the history of the world, and how every generation tries to fight the chaos, fight the power, and still not be blamed for starting all the chaos. This is one of those songs you're expected to memorize by the end of the night or you won't be leaving in the morning. It's a history lesson and a prideful remembrance all in one. Additionally, Jaggerbomb's favorite, and when the lyric "Foreign debts, homeless vets, AIDS, crack, raging sex" (they insist it's raging sex and not Bernie Goetz. No one wants to remember a racist.) comes on, he chucks out carbons, blankets, red AIDS ribons, and indeed, crack pipes and condoms into the audience.

Ultimately, Club Lock-In is a wild party, and if you're brought there, you can expect a night that's more insane than Show Pony's silver parties. While expensive, you can get in for free, or a discount.. if you know Jaggerbomb well, or how to press his buttons. Those he chooses to put on a leash every night, he usually remembers, and they get free entrance for them and their virgins for life. Sort of makes you wonder what really goes down in the VIP room. Fun Ghoul would know, as he was brought there as a virgin with a certain drag queen who has a penchant for disco and shall go unnamed. He ended up getting completely wild, and grinding on Jaggerbomb himself during Touch Me. Needless to say, he got the privilege of being one of the 3 collared that night. But whenever anyone brings up his trip to the back room, he seems to get oddly defensive, all anyone is sure of is he came out in the morning with a lip piercing and a nose ring. Show Pony would also know, he's been one of Jaggerbomb's favorites over the years, and he would proudly tell that he's sucked Jaggerbomb's dick on LSD more than a dozen times. He'll even tell you he's spotted Doctor Death Defying there a few times, but only with Cherri and Tommy. Whenever he starts to bring up Touch Me, Doc threatens to shoot him in the mouth. If you do venture out to Wolfblood Beach and get the honor of going to this club, be ready to forget your name and have the catchiest songs of all the decades you weren't alive for stuck in your head. And don't be too alarmed if you wake up with a collar on your neck and a condom stuck to your boots. Or your boots stolen. It's all part of Lock-In life.

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seitjun · 5 years

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once in a lifetime

7600+ words // freewood // fahc au

Description Being a criminal has its downsides. One of it is missing out on the dating scene, because really, it’s usually not normal to date a criminal. And now Ryan’s met someone who’s not exactly normal, is totally willing to date him, and is probably way out of his league.

extra notes: it’s officially a series titled ‘Romance for Dummies’ fellas; this is the second part to this fic. for background, cheesy romance montage music – listen to this song!

also available on ao3 (link)!

(one.)

“Do you even have any idea what you’re doing?” Geoff poses the question with a grimace. He leans against the doorway as he watches Ryan fiddle with his outfit, hands unable to stop fidgeting. Usually more confident, it’s odd for Geoff to see someone like Ryan act nervous – and he’s not even facing a chance of death. Geoff revises his question: “Hell, have you actually ever been on a date?” He’s beginning to suspect a certain answer when Ryan switches out his jacket a third time. “Absolutely not,” Ryan answers, and he can feel the exasperation radiating from his boss. Ryan ignores it like usual. “I’ve been too busy living the criminal life to date someone–” Geoff opens his mouth. “–and fucking someone is different. One-night stands aren’t relationships.” Geoff closes his mouth. Fair point. Despite it, a frown plays on his lips at this odd situation he’s been pushed into. What is he supposed to do anyway? He’s not exactly qualified to give advice on dating – only god knows how he landed Jack – but he’s not soulless enough to be a passive bystander. He doesn’t want to watch Ryan come home with his tail tucked behind his legs when the date goes horribly wrong. Besides it being a sad sight, Geoff isn’t ready to be annihilated by a broken-hearted Vagabond. “So...are you just winging this dating scenario? Because I did that before, and it’s a dumb as dicks idea.” Geoff takes care not to mention that he still wings dating, nevermind that he and Jack have been together for a long time now. Ryan snorts, eyeing Geoff from the reflection of the mirror. “I’m not you, boss. I actually know to research stuff when it’s important,” Ryan looks at himself in the mirror with a more serious gaze, “and this date is important." Geoff whistles. For the most part, Ryan is a laid back man, even managing to be relaxed when serious. This time, Geoff can see the intense determination in Ryan’s eyes and the lack of humor in his conviction – his question of how important it is to Ryan is easily answered. “Oh boy, okay. This is a real big deal then,” he mutters. “You, uh, need anything from me before you go off on your date?” Geoff winces at how awkward he sounds, but he’s trying, dammit. As odd as it is, he wants to support the guy’s dip into dating. “Advice? Opinions? Maybe even suggestions?” Ryan doesn’t answer immediately. His eyes are unerringly focused on his jacket, and he frowns at himself in the mirror: “Does this outfit make me look like a criminal?” (Of all the questions to ask of Geoff when he’s being so fucking generous– ) “Ryan, buddy. You’re wearing your Vagabond outfit.”

He’s not ready for this at all. Ryan lingers at a wooden, apartment door with clammy hands. One stays hidden behind him with a small bouquet of flowers, but the other floats in the air as he debates when to knock. In his pocket is the reminder that he’s arrived five minutes early from their planned meeting time, as well as three internet tabs that have dating advice – all varying degrees of helpfulness. He tugs at the collar of his light jacket, changing out his Vagabond jacket after Geoff’s tired sigh. He supposes the other’s right that it’d bring too much attention on him on his date. Even so, he can feel how uncomfortable he is without the comforting weight of his jacket. It takes another moment of shifting his weight around and talking himself up to push himself forward. His knuckles meet the wood three times, knocking at a hopefully okay volume. He’s awfully anxious despite wanting this badly, and his heart is pounding in his chest, so close to jumping out. It only worsens when he hears the faint ‘I’m coming! Give me a sec!’ and Ryan wonders if he’s started sweating already. “Ryan, you’re early!” Gavin’s face pops out from behind the door, and his cheeks are flushed red. A dopey grin plays on his lips as it accompanies the giddy shine in his eyes. His excitement is contagious, and already, Ryan can feel his nerves start to settle a bit. “I didn’t want to be late or keep you waiting, so I arrived earlier to be sure,” Ryan confesses. He gives a small smile, hoping he doesn’t come off as weird. “Oh! I, uh, got you some flowers too. I read that people like flowers, and I hope that you’re not allergic to them?” Ryan reveals the item he had picked up half an hour ago, slipping it from behind his back. He hears the little gasp as he presents it to Gavin, and he ducks his head in delighted embarrassment when Gavin takes it with a happy croon. Ryan hazards a glance up, his breath stolen away at Gavin cradling the gift; his eyes radiate fondness. “Oh, Ryan, this gift is absolutely top! I can’t believe you got me something like this!” Gavin is bubbly, filled to the brim with affection for the awkward criminal. His thumb brushes a carnation's petal, its orange shade bright beneath tanned skin. “I didn’t know your favorites, so I got you the prettiest bouquet I saw. Reminded me of you, ‘cus you’re, y’know, very pretty. Er...” Ryan trails off with a sheepish grin. His face is flushed with his words absolutely fucked up, but he’s genuine in all that he’s saying. He figures that Gavin can figure out what he’s saying, and he’s rewarded with a tight hug. His mind reels when he feels another reward in the form of a soft kiss on his cheek. “You’re lovely, Ryan. The loveliest of them all,” Gavin crows. “Here, let me put these in some water, so they won’t die, and we can head off!” Ryan doesn’t say anything as Gavin returns inside his apartment. He stays still in his spot, a hand on the spot where Gavin’s lips had met his cheek sweetly; he grins like an idiot.

“Absolutely not, I respect gravity too much.” “But Ryan, it’d be a sick party trick, and even for your job, you could terrify blokes so easily. Plus you’re getting a superpower and a million dollars! You don’t lose out at all!” "I'm scary enough on my own," Ryan frowns. He had worked hard for his reputation. "I already get millions from heisting, and I'm not for parties anyway." Gavin rolls his eyes. He chatters on about the hypothetical situation, trying to convince Ryan how good anti-gravity powers really are. His hands are moving everywhere in wide gestures, and he’s too lost in the conversation to take much notice of it. It takes a wine glass almost tipping over for Ryan to finally stop Gavin’s movements. “Gav, careful, we don’t want to make a mess here,” Ryan chides. He takes one of Gavin’s hands into his own, gives it a gentle squeeze that makes Gavin pause before giggling. It catches Ryan’s attention, and he tugs his hand away, flustered and changing the topic. “Your gravity question isn’t going to help you out with red wine stains on the white tablecloth.” “Well, not this specific one. I have tons more, like–” “Just eat your food, before I eat it all for you. I mean, I'm always hungry, and I do love steak a lot…” “Ryan, no!” Gavin picks up his fork to eat a cut of his steak before Ryan can. He sticks his tongue out at Ryan while his cheek is puffed with the food. He earns an eye roll from Ryan, and another order of ‘eat’ , delivered with a huff. “I am eating, but I like talking to you a lot too, you twit.” “I do too, but food is always the first priority. Even before you, Gav,” Ryan retorts to Gavin’s affronted squeak. “Hey, look, I’m paying for this date! I’m going to eat my money’s worth and yours too, soon enough!” Gavin huffs, but he does continue eating again, much to Ryan’s smug glee. They devolve into a quiet dinner, but it’s no less comfortable than the from before; it feels nice that this simple dinner date is going well. From the mess that he was at the start, Ryan feels more like himself now. He’s still unsure whenever he does certain things – such as grabbing Gavin’s hand like an idiot who didn’t ask – but he feels more comfortable. He’s not as worried about fucking this whole thing up when he’s shown Gavin how much of a mess he is in five different ways already. And Gavin is still here, taking it in stride with a laugh. It’s easy to lose himself in the conversation, taken in by Gavin’s playfulness and curiosity so completely. The banter is quick and bright, tidbits of personal information coming out naturally, and Ryan’s 90% sure that Gavin is into him as much as Ryan is into Gavin. It’s a good feeling, and Ryan really did work himself up over nothing. “Y’know, I already miss the shy Ryan at my doorstep,” Gavin pipes up after a few minutes of contented eating. “You were bloody adorable, lookin’ a lil’ lost and embarrassed. It was like I was in secondary school again, and you were trying to ask me out to the dance.” “Hey, no, I wasn’t lost, alright? I’ll give you half-credit on embarrassed though, because it was more like...flustered. I didn’t know what to expect on a date with you!” He defends. Gavin’s voice lowers, amusement seeping in, “The feared Vagabond gets so flustered going on a date. I saw you robbing the bank so confidently, and walking up to me in the coffee place with that pick-up line? And then– you know!” He explodes into a amused laughter, eyes shut as his smile stretches his cheeks. “Shut up,” Ryan retorts with no heat at all, besides the ones present on his cheeks. He’s too distracted by the sight of Gavin being so carefree to put much thought in his defense. He suppresses the fond sigh that threatens to escape. “I just...didn’t know what to expect on a date in general. This is the first date I’ve ever been on.” Ryan doesn’t miss how Gavin sobers up a bit after his confession. There’s still a wide smile playing on his pink lips – and oh, god, his heart is racing – but it’s less at Ryan’s expense. It’s turned soft and gentle, and Ryan swears this man could be the death of him when he feels Gavin hold his hand. “I guess being a criminal makes it awful horrible to get on the dating scene. You can’t really put down your career in a dating profile, can you? Even if you do make good money," Gavin teases. He squeezes Ryan’s hand, reminiscent of the scene minutes before. “I’m lucky that I get to be your first date ever, and hopefully, I’m lucky enough to have more of your firsts. Like maybe your first, second date?” Ryan doesn’t even try to stifle his grin and nods excitedly. (And the articles open on his phone remain unused. He didn't need them after all.)

(two.)

“You’re wearing your riding leathers today. You taking your date out on your motorcycle this time?” Geoff finds himself watching Ryan get ready for his date again, this time with less worry. From what he’s been hearing from Ryan’s recountings and seeing Ryan’s frequent excursions now, the whole courting thing must be going well. It’s nice to know that Ryan’s been successful in his first dating endeavor so far. Ryan nods. “He saw a clip of me making an escape from a heist on a motorcycle,” he pauses as he sifts through his closet, “Said he wants to ride a bike with me. It turns out he likes bikes more than cars, so I’m showing him my Shotaro.” He pulls out a hanger with another leather jacket hanging from it. Scanning it for a second, Ryan deems it small enough for it to fit Gavin; it’d still be a little big considering Ryan’s size, but it’s an older jacket from a year or two ago. It’s his best bet, at this point, and it does match his current riding leathers – almost like a set. The implication sends his heart into an awful frenzy of fluttering. “Y’know, you never told me how you met your guy. It happened so suddenly that you started going out on dates,” Geoff points out. He’s curious to know, especially since Ryan let slip that his date knew Ryan’s career as a criminal. He’s both curious and concerned for Ryan and crew if the date ended up being a traitor. Ryan shrugs, but a red tint starts to swarm his face. He sets the jacket in a nearby backpack that he slings on, reminding himself to bring an extra helmet from the garage. He shifts awkwardly as he ponders about telling the truth. “Remember the bank heist at Pacific Standard, about two months ago?” He murmurs. “He was, uh, one of the civilians there. I noticed him after we made eye contact, but I realized that he wasn’t scared. Looked more inconvenienced really.” “So, how did that turn into you scoring some dick?” Ryan scowls, leveling Geoff with a narrowed look at the crude words; there’s been nothing like that mentioned in their dates. Ryan’s busy trying to figure out romance first anyway with Gavin. “We made eye contact, and I noticed that he was cute. I winked at him, and the guy didn’t hate it, so I kept doing it, and then,” Ryan pauses, cheeks turning a brighter red. “I blew a kiss at him, tracked him down to a coffee shop that same week, and, uh, it spiralled into this.” Silence reigns completely over his room, and Ryan doesn’t dare look up. His decision is only proving to be right after Geoff finally busts out laughing after their silence. He cackles and howls so loudly that it echoes in their penthouse. “What kinda fuckin’ story is that, Haywood?" “It's mine, now shut up,” Ryan grumbles with no heat. He feels a small smile tug at his lips from Geoff’s amusement. It’s an approval of its own kind.

There’s little to no nervousness in Ryan this time when he sees Gavin waiting by the curb of his apartment building. After the first handful of dates, he’s figured out how to soothe his nerves and taken to reminding himself the most important thing: they were both into each other. After all, if the attraction and the interest hadn’t been mutual, they wouldn’t be here still, would they? (Unless it’s a long con from Gavin, but Ryan knows him enough – Gavin is impulsive and spontaneous, absolutely horrible at anything pre-planned. Besides, doubting Gavin’s genuinity would only lead to a quick spiral into anxiousness and self-doubt, and Ryan could do that in his own time.) “You looked so handsome riding in on that bike, Ry,” Gavin compliments, first thing. His lips pull into a cheeky grin, and he moves forward to press a greeting kiss on Ryan’s cheek after tugging his helmet off. “Does this mean I get to ride with you, like how you did in that one clip?” Ryan snorts, cutting the engine off and getting off the seat. He takes the helmet from Gavin to set on his seat before he curls his arm around Gavin’s waist to hold him close. He waves vaguely in his backpack’s direction. “I mean, I did bring an extra jacket and helmet for someone here. And I knew I was gonna get pestered ‘bout it if I didn’t do it, so…” It’s with a happy chirp of a noise that Gavin tears away from Ryan’s hold, hands already reaching for the backpack. Ryan rolls his eyes, muttering ‘impatient’ below his breath, but he shrugs it off anyway and reaches for the items inside. “First thing, helmet. Obvious thing to have, or else you’ll have a nasty time if we crash. I don’t want you to lose any more brain cells that you’ve lost already.” “Oi!” “Kidding,” Ryan amends, a cough following afterwards. It earns him a gentle shove to his side, but it moves him not at all, as he places the helmet next to his own. But his movements stutter here, eyes catching the jacket and reminding him of his thoughts from before. He wonders if Gavin will realize the choice behind the jacket, will realize how much Ryan likes him that he’s giving the man a piece of himself. A piece of himself that he's never let anyone else have. Would he feel the same frenzy in his chest? “Ry? You okay?” Ryan startles, shaking his head to clear his confusion. “Sorry, Gav, I’m fine. Just got lost in my thoughts, but here, uh, I have riding leathers too." Ryan manages to fumble his words out as he tugs the leather jacket out of his bag. He sets the bag down to show off the jacket to Gavin, hands trembling slightly; a familiar nervousness settles in. “They are actually meant to protect. I don’t just wear my Vagabond jacket to make a statement.” No sound passes between them for a beat, and Ryan looks around awkwardly to avoid Gavin’s eyes. The jacket is still in his hands, Gavin is silent, and Ryan wonders if Gavin’s already caught the meaning – how dumb of him to assume that it wasn’t obvious already to the man, if it was to Ryan. How dumb of Ryan to believe that Gavin would feel the same about the jacket; this isn’t Gavin’ first time with romance, and he wouldn’t fall as hard and as quick as Ryan has. He starts to take the jacket back, a promise of grabbing a different one sitting on his tongue. But quicker than Ryan can pull away, Gavin’s hand darts out to gingerly grip Ryan’s wrist. It's a small, soft grip that has Ryan pausing to look back at Gavin with wide eyes. “Sorry, Ry, I didn’t want you to...go,” Gavin murmurs sheepishly. He drops his grip from Ryan’s wrist, moving to run a gentle hand over the soft leather of the jacket. “I didn’t know how to react since it looked like it was yours, yeah?” Ryan nods. Words are stuck in his throat as he catches the way Gavin looks at the jacket. “Could bloody tell with all the nicks in it. There’s even a spot here where you tried to sew up a hole,” Gavin giggles, and it lets Ryan’s nervousness seep out. "Some darker spots where stuff didn't wash out all the way." “Yeah, it’s an old jacket of mine, and I hoped it’d be small enough to not look that weird on you. It was one of my first ones I bought since joining the crew, so it’s got history,” Ryan mumbles. “That’s partly why I wanted to give you this one to wear. That, and...it looks the nicest out of the rest. It's like my current one. Black leather, but with red accents instead of my blue.” “It’s kinda like complements, innit? I’m the red to your blue, and we make it work together. Good thing that red and blue look good together,” Gavin jokes. Ryan’s breath hitches, because Gavin’s hit the nail on the head even if Gavin doesn’t exactly realize it. He nods, and he offers a small smile as he presents the jacket to Gavin again; the meaning isn’t lost on either of them about this jacket. The question is asked in his movements, and Gavin responds in kind. There’s something to be said about the intimacy of the moment, as Ryan carefully slips the jacket onto Gavin’s shoulders. He watches with a held breath how Gavin slips his arms into the sleeves, knuckles barely past the long sleeves, and adjusts the new weight on his figure. Even swallowed up by the excess fabric, Gavin looks comfortably at home in Ryan’s jacket, and Ryan can’t help the affection that surges in his heart. “Y’know, I can see why you wear that jacket everywhere, even if you’re not on a bike. It does make a statement,” Gavin teases. “You’re fucking awful,” is all Ryan can groan out before he’s attacked with an armful of Gavin. But he can’t stifle the smile on his face as Gavin tucks his head in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his cheek against the skin there and making joyful, little chirping noises. “And, you don’t have to worry. I know it’s not like a necklace, but I get what you’re saying,” Gavin smiles, small and soft with apple-red cheeks. He peers up at Ryan from his spot with shining eyes. “I like you a lot, Ry.” Ryan feels like a mess – all he can manage is a grateful nod as he tucks Gavin closer to his side; his body feels like fire.

The perfect moment, in Ryan’s eyes, is when they’re the only ones left in the highway lane. Los Santos is good to them today as they ride out of the city, heading off to nowhere for a passing moment. It’s there that he can amp up the engine to go blasting off at a 90 miles per hour and to the tune of nowhere’s promises. He can still feel the rush from the speed, see his surroundings blur around him, and it’s easy to lose himself to the thrill of the ride. He lets experience and instincts take over the driving. For a good while, he can stop thinking about everything besides the moment and driving wildly in it. It's the best type of alone time he could get when the adrenaline got too much and the stress too heavy from their jobs. Now though, Ryan can feel the comforting press of Gavin’s body against his back. Warm and present, Ryan feels less reckless even at high speed; he's more content, especially when Gavin squeezes his arms around Ryan’s waist to hold on. The touch is grounding. He had planned on driving with no destination in mind. Take Gavin out on a ride to see everything and nothing that exists on the road. But then he thinks about another city near Los Santos, where the people are nicer and the streets are safer. Thinks about the famous coffee shop there, the overhyped tourist attractions, and the idea of exploring it together. He thinks Gavin would like it, and it's enough for him to take the next exit there. Ryan slips one hand off the handles for a moment, placing it over one of Gavin’s that’s on his stomach. His thumb brushes the exposed skin of that soft hand, and distantly, he amends his statement from before: this is the perfect moment.

(three.)

“How’s loverboy doing? You haven’t been on a date with your guy in what...a month now?” “You’ve been keeping track?” Geoff shrugs, not giving any answer as obvious as it is. “Hard not to when it turned routine for you to disappear near weekly. Hell, I don’t think I went on as many dates as you have, even with Jack.” Ryan scowls from his spot behind the refrigerator door, pausing in his search for one last can of diet coke. He throws up a middle finger at Geoff, and he can feel the eye roll from the other. “He’s been out of the country for a job,” Ryan mumbles eventually when Geoff's stare doesn't drop. He avoids mentioning personal details about his date. He sighs and shuts the fridge door close when it looks like there’s no more of his drink left. Leaning against the door, he continues, “He said he shouldn’t away for more than that, said the filming went well. But…” “You miss him. Like a metric shit ton, dude,” Geoff finishes for Ryan. His expression’s taken on a more serious one, and Ryan is thankful for how understanding Geoff could be. “Is that why you’ve been on your phone a lot more? I see you always checking it now.” Ryan gives a helpless shrug, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Old and worn, threads stick out from the end, but it’s one comfort out of a situation that has Ryan feeling stilted. He hadn’t realized how much Gavin affected his life with those weekly dates, considering they spent most of their week away at their own work. It’s weird, being vulnerable like this. “He’s busy over there, but sometimes he’ll sneak a text in about his day. There’s usually a photo too, and I like them. It lets me know that he’s doing okay, since I can’t be there with him,” he confesses. Quiet and emotional, he wonders what a sight he must make in front of Geoff. “Damn. You’re really into the guy,” Geoff whistles. He’s figured out that Ryan genuinely likes the guy, but he had never paid attention to how much exactly. “Sounds like he’s real good for you.” Ryan’s eyes soften as he eyes the small bump in his pocket where he knows his phone is hiding away. He thinks about his wallpapers, how they’re photos of them together and how it changes weekly for every new date. Thinks about their texts that always end in a ‘see you soon’ and never a ‘goodbye’ . Thinks about how much he likes being next to Gavin, and how, sometimes, he can’t speak because he’s too overwhelmed with affection. There’s not enough words to describe how good Gavin is. He tears his eyes away from his phone – people say focusing on the wrong things can make time slower, and maybe there’s some truth to it – and looks back up at Geoff. Ryan tries to find something to say, even if it’d never capture the whole experience of being with Gavin. Before he can say a single word though, a familiar text tone rings in his ears, and as quick as he had looked away – he’s grabbing his phone to peer at the newest message. from [dear]: got home just now. im knackered, but i wanna see you ry. come over and bring food please? to [dear]: !! And it’s genuinely amazing how Geoff stays upright after Ryan barrels through him and out the door. Geoff resigns himself to this fate of a lovestruck Ryan, ready to be by his date’s side at a drop of a hat. Love looks good on the guy, at least.

“Christ, you’re too good for me sometimes, Ry.” Gavin groans in delight through another mouthful of food, savoring the rice and curry from the local Thai place near his apartment. He doesn’t eat much, but after complaining about the shitty airplane food, Ryan can only watch in understanding as Gavin rinses through the takeout. They’re sat on the actually nice couch in Gavin’s living room, Gavin sitting back against one of the arms with Ryan laying on Gavin’s chest. Broad arms wrap tightly around the other’s waist, and they relax to the background noise of a documentary. “I’m just a normal good, but relative to you, I can see that,” Ryan jokes with a grin and earning a half-hearted glare from Gavin. He doesn’t bat an eye, casually grabbing a tissue with one hand and wiping a stray morsel of food from the corner of Gavin’s lips. “I like it anyway. Also helps a guy out with his ego.” “This is one of those sometimes where you’re not too good for me now. You suck,” Gavin huffs, but he doesn’t look too bothered. Otherwise, he’d be batting Ryan’s hand away and pouting up a storm. Instead, he lets Ryan fuss over him with the food and tissues; he must’ve seen how much Ryan had needed it. “Just finish your food, so we can cuddle, idiot,” Ryan can’t help saying fondly. He nuzzles his cheek against Gavin’s collarbone and squeezes him in a hug, letting out a soft and impatient noise. Something that vaguely sounds ‘we’re already cuddling’ escapes from Gavin, but Ryan can’t find it in himself to deign that with a response. He shuts his eyes and savors the moment that it is – the low volume of the television, the scraping sounds of Gavin eating the dregs of his food, and the quiet breathing of theirs that stay in sync. Ryan’s always thought that nothing could come close to the love he has for the criminal life; this is coming pretty damn close. He stays like that for what seems like forever, already close to dozing off from the serenity of it all. He jolts from his half-slumber when he hears the loud ‘click!’ of a camera, followed up by a sheepish ‘oops’ from Gavin. “Why’re you taking photos of me right now, Gav…?” Ryan asks. His words slur together in his sleepiness, and his eyes are blurry when he attempts to peer up at Gavin through half-lidded eyes. Gavin offers a small smile, setting his empty plate down to instead run his hands through Ryan’s hair. His nails scratch at a sensitive spot just right , and Ryan’s eyes flutter at the sensation. “You’re like a lil’ puppy, Ry. ‘S cute,” Gavin giggles. He peppers kisses on Ryan’s forehead and nose and wherever else he could reach with the criminal's face semi buried against his body. “And I like photos, that’s why I sent a lot to you on my trip! I was miffed that you didn’t return any, love. I wanted to see you!” Ryan mumbles incoherently, his cheeks turning pink. “I didn’t know you wanted photos of me. Wouldn’t have been exciting anyway, since it’d be weird taking photos of me committing crimes.” Gavin snorts, saying nothing for or against that point; that’ll be something to talk about more seriously later on, Ryan notes. As much as Gavin doesn’t care for the crimes that involves heisting, Ryan doesn’t know where Gavin stands on his shadier aspects. It’d really be a terrible thing to discuss currently. “I just like anything that’ll remind me of you, Ryan, you dolt. You could’ve sent me a photo of you brushing, and I’d enjoy it,” Gavin teases. “So, now, I want a photo of us together! Say ‘cheese’, Ryebread!” Ryan’s given no time to argue or pose decently, so he settles for glancing at the phone in Gavin’s hand and gives a lazy smile. It should be enough to satiate Gavin, what with the look in his eyes, and Ryan’s proven right when Gavin croons in happiness. “Lemme see, Gav,” Ryan requests, butting his head against the other’s hand. His face is gently bat away, a hand patting his cheek absentmindedly. “Hol’ up, let me do this one thing, and...aha–! I have a new lockscreen,” Gavin says triumphantly. He clicks his phone shut before turning it to show Ryan. At another click, Ryan sees the photo in all its glory. Gavin takes up most of the photo, his arm outstretched to catch the both of them in the frame of the photo with the other still running through sleek, black hair. Ryan’s only present in the lower half of the frame where the camera’s caught his hands clutching onto Gavin tightly, and his face is half-hidden against his shirt. They both have an affectionate look in their eyes, glittering with joy at just being with each other. And it’s...nice. Ryan’ll even go as far as to say it looks domestic of them, considering one of them is a well-known criminal, and the other is a civilian with enough moral flexibility to date a criminal. What a dream couple they make. Ryan buries his face against Gavin’s body again, murmuring, “Y’know, if someone ever sees these pictures, they’d think we’re boyfriends?” He tries to ignore the feeling of want in his stomach. It sounds like a dumb thing to say when they’ve been going on dates for months now – a trend that doesn’t seem likely to disappear anytime soon – but Ryan’s hesitant. It’d be too assuming of him to believe that they’re past this courting stage, not when Ryan’s always heard that a question like that has to be asked first. He doesn’t want to ruin what they’ve built up already. “Huh? I mean...I’d hope so?” Gavin’s voice comes out confused, and peering up, Ryan can see the way Gavin's brows furrow deeply. Ryan thinks he's stopped breathing himself. “I haven’t been telling all my co-workers about my lovely dates only for them to assume we’re not something, at least. But I don’t want to cock it up, so it’s fine if...you don’t want to be something, it turns out.” “No!” The outburst is sudden, has Ryan sitting up from his spot now and looking down at a wide-eyed Gavin. He freezes in his spot as his cheeks turn pink, but he supposes that there’s nothing he can do to take back his answer now. It’s not a wrong answer, but it’s rarely that Ryan loses composure like so instantaneously and has him sounding like a child. He clears his throat, settling down again as he slowly reaches for Gavin’s hand. “I want to be your boyfriend. I like you a lot, Gav, and I don’t see myself without you for a long time,” he murmurs. He runs a thumb over bony knuckles, feels the soft skin of a person who’s never had to turn to crime to survive; Ryan wonders if his own hand feels rough and calloused. “I’m just not good at this. Or reading into social stuff.” He shrugs lamely. “I didn’t want to jump to conclusions and risk losing you. God, Gav, you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, and if you’d let me, I want to be your boyfriend,” he repeats. “Ry, you’re being too sappy now,” Gavin whines, but there’s a dopey grin on his face. His free hand rises to cup Ryan’s cheek, and Ryan shuts his eye as Gavin strokes his cheek so lovingly that Ryan questions why he hesitated in the first place. (His assumption would’ve been so damn right.) “That’s a yes, right? Otherwise, I’ll have to change your name in my phone from ‘dear’ as soon as I can.” At that, Gavin just squeals, a happy smile lighting up the room as he peppers Ryan’s face in kisses; Ryan assumes this time, that Gavin’s answer is a resounding yes.

(four.)

“You’ve been scaring the crew lately. I don’t know what kind of murder shit you pulled, but could it wait until after the heist?” Geoff catches Ryan all alone at the kitchen counter of the penthouse, startling the mercenary from whatever business he had been invested in on his computer. He takes a seat next to the confused guy, cradling two cans of diet coke in his hands before he hands one to Ryan. It’s accepted easily with a crack! of the tab, and Geoff can only hope that it’ll satiate Ryan as they talk. The guy absolutely hates this kind of intervention, and Geoff needs his crew to not be afraid of Ryan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything besides the jobs you’ve been assigning me,” Ryan answers after a long sip. “None of the jobs have been hits either. Just shake-ups or acting as an enforcer. I told you I stopped taking the bad jobs a long time ago." “Look, man, I’m not saying that exactly! It’s just...the crew’s acting weird ‘round you, and I wondered if something happened.” Geoff slumps in his seat as Ryan nods, almost demurely and sadly from previous words; Geoff hates how easily Ryan gets him to feel bad. “C’mon, buddy, I was just worried. I know that if shit gets stressful for you, it can get dangerous for you.” Ryan plays with the tab of his soda can, flicking it in thought as the ringing noises sound out. “I haven’t been that stressed that it’s getting bad for me. I’ve been pretty good honestly,” he shrugs. He pauses there. “The only thing that’s happened recently enough for the crew to get worried is that I have a boyfriend now, but–” “I’m sorry, repeat that?” “Huh? I have a boyfriend, but the crew doesn’t know I’ve even been on dates, so��” “Hold the fuck up, stay there, and do not fucking talk until I’m done, because still what the fuck? ” Geoff’s voice turns shrill. “What do you mean you got a boyfriend?!” “Oh, yeah. The guy I’ve been going on dates with and I are official now.” “When?!” “Two weeks ago.” “And were you ever gonna fuckin’ tell me that detail?!” Ryan hesitates. He takes another sip of his drink instead, one that’s taking too long for it to be natural, and he looks almost sheepish. He’s hoping for the world to end or the floor to swallow him up right now – either would be an amazing escape right now from a glaring Geoff. Geoff groans loudly, transitioning to a yell of a wail, as he holds his head in his hands. “Ryan, man. You’re an idiot sometimes.” “That’s not very nice of you to say.” “Never said I was nice,” Geoff grumbles. He drags his hands down his face with a sigh, but above his fingers, he peers at Ryan with an odd look in his eyes. Geoff scrutinizes the man sitting next to him, words from before registering more completely. It’s true that Ryan’s come a long way from being the person he was years ago – cruel and malicious and not exactly Ryan back then – but he’s changed even more lately. Ryan’s still a sarcastic asshole to the the crew who likes the rush from crime and power, but he’s also softer now. Softer in the way that Ryan will gently smile whenever he hears that specific text tone; how Ryan has taken to thieving little knick knacks like jewelry that he never used to before; how he’s become so much more quaint around the penthouse, less likely to threaten the crew members; or how Geoff sometimes will overhear Ryan so reverently call his boyfriend ‘dear’ over the phone. And really, he can’t help but let out a snort when he finally reads the page open on Ryan’s laptop: “What to Do When You’re in Your First Relationship Ever.” “Hey, man,” Geoff starts, reaching out to pat Ryan on the back. He offers a toothy smile, and he looks more like a proud dad rather than a criminal in Los Santos in that moment. “Congratulations on the new relationship. The guy’s been real good to you.” Ryan nods eagerly, a smile splitting his own face. “Thanks, boss. He’s been amazing,” he murmurs. “I don’t know how I managed to live all my life without him in it. I like him a lot.” Geoff chuckles. He can’t help but see the familiar look in Ryan’s eyes, and he wonders when Ryan will realize that he loves the guy already. But that’s a matter for a different day – and a topic for a future betting pool – so Geoff shrugs. Shakes his head fondly at this mess of a human still figuring things out in romance. “I can tell, Ryan. Keep him close to you, you hear?” Geoff says. “We don’t always get lucky enough to get what you have in our lifetimes.”

It’s another bank heist. Intended target: Maze Bank. Ryan listens to the chatter over his comm as he preps for his own role in the job. His hands check over his guns with a comfortable ease, and it helps settle down the energy he gets on these missions; ever since the crew, there's a new excitedness that always brews in his chest at heists. He peers over to the other person sitting next to him in the backseat, tattooed arms covered by the symbolic suit that’s left Los Santos in terror again and again. Just before a heist that he’s planned meticulously including all the ways it can go shit because of the crew’s destructive natures, this is his zone. “You ready to make a hell of a lot of money, boys?” Geoff knocks back the rest of his soda with a grin, eyes flickering over at Ryan. “We better get this right since money’s being loaded out tomorrow.” “Are we playing usual rules for robbing them? I saw a few guards I wanna punch in the fuckin’ face before I rob ‘em.” Geoff rolls his eyes. “If they try to stop you, go wild. Just no harm or death to innocent people who aren’t doing anything to you. Don’t forget your job though, Michael!” “I’m not unprofessional! I’m not like Ryan when he sees a good kill.” Ryan rolls his eyes, hand coming up to his comm to finally unmute himself. “I don’t appreciate being insulted like that. You decided to kill a mob of shitty people once ‘stead of heisting, and suddenly you’re unprofessional,” he grumbles. Low and near-threatening, it’s the Vagabond coming out to play, and it earns him a little ‘christ, whatever’ from Michael. “Apology accepted,” he snorts. “Alright, calm down, you can bicker after the heist. We’ve got money to steal, and it’s waiting for us,” Geoff interrupts. He cracks his knuckles, and when his gaze sweeps over the gents in the car with him, he chuckles. “Everyone ready to go?” “I’ve been fuckin’ ready! Jeremy and I rigged the vault, just let us know when to detonate.” “Jack, Ryan?” “We’re literally in the car with you, you can see us being ready,” Jack huffs. She slings an empty bag on her shoulder, and flicks the safety off on her gun. “If anything, you’re the last one we’re waiting on, Geoff.” Ryan nods, agreement bolstered by the click of his guns assembling together again. “Say the words, and we’ll go.” “You guys are the worst crew,” Geoff groans as he slings on his own bag, and he kicks his door open. “Alright, fuckers – let’s heist! ”

The heist goes as predicted – which is to say, unpredictable. Michael is whooping in Ryan’s ear as he leaves a trail of unconscious guards behind him, lying down among debris from the exploded vault at the start. Somewhere alongside him, the sound of skin hitting skin echoes on Jeremy’s side as well as his own rambunctious cheers. Jack and Geoff are just about done packing their bags with the cash after playing with it in the dumbest ways, like making it rain on them. There's bullets ricocheting somewhere below the bank lobby. Hell, Ryan had participated himself, firing off a few rounds into the overly expensive, marble flooring of the place. There’s a few more shots in the wall behind the counters when a teller almost was too brave. After that act, he’s had intimidation on lockdown without trouble. (Though he wonders if they’ll eventually notice that the bullets form a heart shape.) About 90% of it hadn’t been part of the plan – they’re supposed to have been in and out in less than 15 minutes – but the Fakes have never been good at just doing what they need to. What’s the point of being the strongest crew in the city if you don't have fun with it? “Coming up, Vagabond! A guard managed to patch a call to LSPD through, ETA is five minutes!” Ryan scoffs behind his mask, jacket flexing as he moves to get out another gun. It’s not like the LSPD is any good, and worse comes to worst, Ryan can wipe them out easily, as fucked as that sounds. He makes a show of it to the civilians in the lobby, how attuned he is with his weapons and the ease that he wields it. He even earns a whimper from someone when the safety goes off, and the gun is ready to fire with a click! that echoes loudly. Ryan can’t stifle a laugh at that, and he sees how a chill runs through the room. “Fuck yeah, bastards! Guess who’s come out to play!” “Rimmy still is excitable as ever, huh,” Jack says with a snort, sprinting behind the two younger members with a loaded bag on her shoulder. Behind her, Geoff shakes his head fondly with a smirk and a matching full bag. “They’re gonna blow something up later, aren’t they?” “Better something else than us, Geoffrey.” Geoff shrugs to concede that point. He takes up the rear and signals for Ryan to open the door, watching as Michael and Jeremy are the first by a longshot to reach the outside. Ryan’s awareness heightens even more, now that it’s his part of the job to take care of the crew. He doesn’t see anyone moving to stop them, much less expect a guard to disable him or ruin the heist, but it never hurts. Sometimes, people are wiley creatures like that, and the Vagabond isn’t all-powerful. And besides, if it hadn't been for him paying more attention, Ryan would have missed a familiar figure in the bank. Gavin’s giving him an exasperated look for getting him stuck in another bank heist, but Ryan doesn’t miss the splash of red on tanned cheeks. It’s adorable on him, and when it’s just Geoff who hasn’t passed the door, he sneaks a wave over to Gavin. He’s giddy when Gavin returns it. He sneaks glances over at his boyfriend – boyfriend! – with a lovestruck look on his face when he can; it’s exciting when he catches Gavin looking at him like that too. He hopes Gavin can see his expression beneath the mask. And when Geoff had finally left the bank, Ryan notices in time how Gavin is trying to catch his attention. Gavin silently crows in delight as he excitedly kisses his fingertips and blows it towards Ryan’s direction, and automatically, his hand comes up to catch it. Gavin is radiant as he grins in delight at Ryan’s catch. Distantly, Ryan can hear Geoff yelling at him to get a move on, and he will, but God – Ryan has it awfully bad for Gavin.

#rtah #ragehappy #freewood #fanfic #seiju writes

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mangsluts · 6 years

Text

A little help

A little help?

A Jooheon Monsta X Fic

Rated: M

Mafia!AU

Contains: Graphic sex, thigh kink, daddy kink, oral, cursing

Description: Having the mafia watch your back at all times doesn’t come with a cheap price. You’re forever in debt to them, and when one of the best assassins, Lee Jooheon wants a little help relieving his stress from a hard day on the job, what could you do?

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

As cheesy as it sounds, you didn’t choose the mafia life, the mafia life chose you. Living in a bad part of town by yourself is never a good idea, but what’s a girl living on her own supposed to do?

Working two jobs to make ends meet had you dead tired all the time, and the walk from your night job at a late night sushi restaurant could nearly kill you alone.

One specific night you had closed work a little later than usual since a few customers just wouldn’t leave.

It was about 3 am as you locked up the shop and began the ten minute trudge back to your apartment.

The soft pat of your work sneakers against the wet pavement below you was the only sound on this particularly still night, until-

“GET BACK HERE MOTHERFUCKER!”

A door in the small alleyway burst open, and the loud sound of firing guns matched with the light from the barrage of bullets suddenly filled the just previously empty air. Five men in matching pinstripe suits sprinted out of the hole in the wall building, one of them with a suitcase in hand which he seemed to be protecting with his life. They were all laughing and hollering while dodging bullets, turning back every once in a while to shoot back at their assailients. After running down the length of the alley to the end where you were standing frozen in place, they finally noticed you.

“Shit.” One of them mumbled, but was cut off by the sound of tires screeching behind you. A large black van had just peeled into the alley behind you, with the back door swung open and ready for their escape. There were two guys in the van; one in the front with a mask on, driving the van, and one in the back waiting for everyone else to get in so he could slam the door shut. He saw you standing there slack jawed and pulled down the bandana that was covering his face.

“Guys what the fuck is this?” The lean blond complained, motioning to you.

“Not our problem, that’s what it is.” A taller man with pinkish hair replied back as he climbed into the van, seeing as the people they had just stolen from were running their direction.

Everyone piled into the van as the other men closed the distance between each other, and here you were still standing there frozen, apartment key in hand.

A big ugly man who stank of cigars and had a gold tooth right on one of his front teeth saw you and smirked mischievously.

“What do we have here? You take something of ours, we take something of yours!” He yelled out in a raspy voice and reached out for you, your body finally reacting to what was happening, and you shrieked, trying to avoid his grip.

“She’s not ours we just- Oh for fucks sake!” One of the young men in the van, with copper blonde hair styled upwards and small crescent eyes groaned and reached out of the van, grabbed you by the back of your shirt and hoisted you into the van with them, which was immediately slammed shut by the blonde and the tires screeched as the van sped out of the alleyway and through a shortcut at ungodly speeds until the driver determined it was safe to slow down.

You sat there for a while in the van, nobody saying, but the air was thick with uneasiness.

“You’re an accessory now, you hear that?” The man who had saved you said between gritted teeth.

“You’re just… A girl. And now it’s unsafe for you to be around here. You need to leave.” He explained

“I have nowhere to go. Or any money.” You stated back, your voice wavering.

His small eyes looked you up and down, then closed. He looked back at everyone else, who looked equally torn.

“Okay. Listen to me. You’re with us now. Whether you like it or not. We’ll protect you, and you can stay with us. But you can never tell anyone about us, or that you know us at all. And we’ll find stuff for you to do in return for us protecting you. Capiche?” He took the jacket of his suit off, and you saw his muscular build under his white button up.

Sure, being involved in the mafia was bad. But your living situation at the moment wasn’t exactly anything you wanted to go back to. And what choice did you have?

With all their eyes staring at you, you took a deep breath and nodded.

“Alright. I’ll do whatever you want. Just uh, don’t let me die.” You tried to be lighthearted, but no one was laughing.

“Deal.” Your savior turned around,

“Wait!”

He looked back at you, those hooded eyes burning holes into your soul.

“I, uh, never got your name.”

He looked at you for a moment, as if questioning if he should give it to you.

“Jooheon.”

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

{PRESENT DAY}

It’s been a year since you met the mafia who liked to call themselves, “Monsta X” and honestly, things were going well. You didn’t have to work, or do anything scary or dangerous-that’s what the boys were for. In return for homing and protection, you did all the mundane tasks that they didn’t want to do, which you didn’t mind. You were kind of like their personal maid who occasionally polished and loaded their guns for them, or helped them find out which poison was the least detectable.

You know, regular maid activities.

You did everything for these seven men, and you were fine with it.

But Jooheon.

Jooheon got special treatment from you.

Ever since that day he rescued you from getting killed by those other mob members, you always had sort of a… ‘thing’ for him.

And maybe he had a thing for you too, but no one would dare admit it.

It started out with you sometimes giving a shoulder massage after a long mission, cooking him his favorite food, offering your bedroom to him so he wouldn’t have to sleep with one of the other guys.

But then it became more.

A massage became a hug, a hug became a kiss, a kiss became a blowjob.

You know how it goes.

But it was strictly “helping him out” after a mission. He would just be so stressed out and high strung after going out, you figured it was only right to help him let off some steam when he came home.

And of course you liked it. He was hot as fuck.

You were sitting on the couch in the dimly lit living room when the front door swung open. Since no one was home, and they weren’t supposed to be back for at least a day, you instinctively grabbed the handgun the boys gave you and raised it, standing up into a defensive position.

“Easy there, it’s just me.” That familiar voice calmed your nerves immediately, and you set the gun back on the side table, sighing with relief.

“Jeeze, you couldn’t have given me a warning? I thought you weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?” You then noticed the patched up wound on his shoulder and went directly into worried mom mode

“Holy shit, what happened!” You ran over to him, closed to door behind him and led him to sit down on the couch. He furiously tried swatting your hands away, but you were persistent.

“Stop, it’s nothing. Small bullet wound. Nothing serious, but the boys figured I should sit the rest of this one out.” His words were reassuring, but you could tell in his voice that he was really pissed off to be sitting a mission out. He never didn’t contribute, and seeing him fuming like this was a little nerve wracking.

“I need to let off some steam or something. I’m going to the gym.” He stated coldly and tried getting up, but you put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

“Like hell you are. You have a fucking bullet wound on your shoulder. Weight lifting doesn’t solve all your problems you know.” You said sarcastically and watched as he over dramatically rolled his eyes, his whole neck following, before his gaze met you again. His pink lips slowly pulled into a smirk, revealing one of his deep cheek dimples that you so adored.

“What?” You asked, arms crossed. At this point you were standing, blocking him from leaving the couch. He was sitting on the black leather couch, legs spread wide in the classic fuckboy stance, arms laid across the back of the couch, basically asking you to just take him.

You gazed down at his legs, which were tightly fit into a pair of black jeans that seemed a little bit too small for him. The seams around his thighs were practically bursting due to his thick thighs occupying them. Okay, maybe you had a thing for his thighs, but who wouldn’t ? They were so perfectly muscular and just begging you to sit on them.

Breaking you from your thoughts of his thighs, he suddenly sat upright and grabbed the collar of your shirt, tugging you down to his level.

“Well, I’m gonna have to get rid of this anger somehow don’t you think.” He lifted one perfectly angular eyebrow.

“Think you can help me with that?” His usually high voice was straining at a low gutteral pitch, which had you absolutely fucking soaked already.

“Yes, daddy.” You replied, and could see his member fighting against his pants.

“Fuck, It’s so hot when you call me that.” He bit his bottom lip and stood up, unbuckling his pants and pulling them off his legs-which took some effort considering how tightly his thighs were stuffed in there. Seeing them finally revealed had your mouth watering, and when he slid his boxers off to show off his completely hardened member already leaking with precum, you found yourself already on your knees for him without even knowing.

“You wanted this didn’t you? You were hoping I would come home and fuck you?”

His dirty talk was causing your pussy to throb in anticipation, but you knew you had to please him a little before it was your turn, so you squeezed your thighs together and looked up at him erotically, wrapping your fingers around his shaft slowly, one finger after the other.

Without breaking eye contact, you wrapped your lips around the wet tip of his dick, and sucked it lightly.

You two hadn’t done this for a while, so just this act was already driving him crazy.

Teasingly, you swished your tongue all around his head, looking right into his eyes.

“Fuck, (y/n) just take it.” He groaned, grabbing the back of your head and shoving your head forwards, onto his long cock. You nearly choked at the suddenness, but quickly accustomed yourself to his length, bobbing along his shaft at a steady pace.

Your lips slid back and forth on his member, the tip slamming into the back of your throat as he thrusted lightly every time you took it deep into your mouth.

“I want your pussy, baby. Take them off.” He had grabbed you by a fistful of your hair and pulled you off his dick. At the request, you eagerly obliged, stripping yourself of the useless clothes.

While you were getting ready, Jooheon had slipped a condom on, and was readily awaiting you.

You looked at him, his lovely face, little eyes, heart shaped mouth, his broad shoulders. God, he was perfect.

Unable to control yourself, you threw yourself onto him, careful to avoid his right shoulder and kissed him roughly, your tongue not asking permission to enter his mouth, but demanding it. You could feel his mouth smirking against yours.

He grabbed you by the waist and tossed you gently onto the couch, where he immediately joined you, eagerly hovering above you.

He grabbed both of your legs and bent them so that your knees were by your stomach, spreading you open for him.

He took one look at your wet pussy and licked his lips, then looked back at you, leaning closer and closer. You could feel the presence of his member so close to your entrance, and you ached for it.

“Tell me how you want it.” He whispered into your ear,

You leaned up to meet his ear and whispered back

“I want you to fuck me rough, daddy.”

This got him fired up, and he very quickly lined himself up with your entrance, and eased his way in slowly. Your tight walls stretched at his big size as they always did, and contracted around his member, earning an early moan from him.

“You’re always so tight.” He said with that god damn dimpled smirk, making you wetter, and allowing easier access for him to slide into you.

Almost instantly, his pace quickened, and he began pounding you roughly, just as he had promised.

From this position, he held both of your legs down at your side, whilst sitting on his knees. He lifted you up onto his lap a little bit to hit you at an angle, because he knew that’s how you liked it.

His hips thrusted in circular motions, making sure he got every inch of himself buried deeply into you, and never missing a beat. His thrusts were like a metronome that got stuck on a setting that was way too fast, and it was absolutely destroying you.

He was hitting you so good that you could barely keep your eyes open, just helplessly moaning out his name while Jooheon gripped his fingers tightly around your thighs and pounded into you, his full length coming out and repeatedly slamming back into your dripping entrance, hitting that spot just right.

“Jooheon, I think I’m gonna-” You mewled out, but he shut you up by shoving three fingers into your open mouth. You were surprised, but complied happily and sucked longingly on his fingers, leaving a thin trail of spit as he pulled the digits out of your mouth and brought them down to your engorged pussy.

As if the pounding wasn’t enough, he took his three wet fingers and rubbed your clit in harsh circles, making sure he was pressing down hard on the bud, sending those nerves all the way from your clit to your spine, and down to your toes. You could feel him in every part of your body, and soon, the sensation took over you, and the tingling started in your stomach.

“Jooheon I really am-”

Hearing that you were gonna cum, Jooheon pulled your legs up, set them on his shoulders-ignoring the pain in his right one from the bullet wound- and leaned into you, pounding you as deep as he could.

You moaned out loudly, feeling your climax take over your whole body. Your slick walls tightened and quivered around his dick, and your nails scratched fiercely down Jooheon’s muscular back.

Hearing you finish, and feeling the lovely sensation of you tightening around him, Jooheon allowed himself to climax as well, sweat dripping off his forehead.

After finishing, he rolled off of you, your sweaty bodies slightly stuck together from the perspiration, and panted heavily.

He looked at you, and showed off that dimpled smile.

“Well, my shoulder hurts like shit, but I feel a lot better.”

You laughed

“I’m always here to lend a little help.”

#jooheon #monsta x #kpop #kpop smut #monsta x smut #jooheon smut #hyungwon #kihyun #shownu #wonho #changkyun #minhyuk #kpop scenario #smut

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webheadedhero · 5 years

Note

“ in my own defense that was last week. “

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE QUOTES ASK MEMES !

“ yeah, but you don’t understand. I had dibs on that last piece of cheesecake.” before the filter in his brain could stop the words from coming out, then again it rarely ever did. they were already leaving his mouth. “ when I have ever stolen your food when you called dibs? wait…you can’t go back further than three days ago though. wait…” another pause as peter turned his eyes up, then glancing over at Dick’s empty container of noodles that he had woofed down. using his spider-reflexes to quickly knock it into the garbage can. “ you know what? I think I’m actually gonna find it in me to let this one slide.”

@boywhelmed

#boywhelmed #the rules of dibs on food have no meaning to either them lbr

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batboys-and-other-messes · 6 years

Text

Phones and Panic (Jason Todd X Fem!Reader)

Requested: Yupp Request: Hello! Can I request a Jason Todd x reader where the reader forgets her phone at home and goes out to do something meanwhile Jason is freaking out because she doesn’t answer her phone A/N: Thanks for the request! I honestly hope you like it. Word count: 1645 Warning(s): Sex mentioned, Cursing Tagged: @jason-todd-rh

[You wanna be tagged in my next piece? Just shoot me a message or ask!]

-----

At first, you thought your day would be uneventful.

That was until your friend suddenly showed up on your doorstep, basically kidnapping you for a lady’s night out. But it wasn’t the fancy kind. It started with messy food, movies, more food and ended with her leaving you behind to hook up with a taxi-driver.

Sometimes you asked yourself how you ended up with so many crazy people in your life. But who were you to judge? You dated a self-proclaimed “outlaw”. How much crazier could it get?

You had only noticed that you didn’t have your phone with you when your friend was gone, and you couldn’t call a cab, so you decided to walk home. It had been a long and busy day and you appreciated the evening breeze.

Gotham, as scary as it could be, sometimes even seemed to be somewhat peaceful.

You stopped on a quick Starbucks run before you walked down the street, watching the sunset as you saw a flash of red and black drop down next to you, scaring the living shit out of you.

“The Hell, Tim?!” you said as Red Robin raised his hands in defense.

“Are you okay?” he asked sheepishly.

“Yeah, you just scared me.”

“No, I mean... are you okay? In general?” Of course, the answer was obvious, you were alive and okay, but the question confused you nonetheless.

“Yeah? … Why?” you asked.

“Because Jason is currently raising hell as if you’ve been kidnapped and tortured collectively by the whole Gotham underground.” He said matter-of-factly and started typing something on his weird wrist-watch-thingy.

You stopped in the middle of taking a sip of your drink.

“What??”

“Yeah… He said you haven’t answered your phone all day and you were ‘nowhere to be found’. Bruce put him in time out because he threatened to shoot something up.” He looked at the position of the setting sun to guess how long ago this was. Thirty minutes? An hour? Maybe? What day was it?

“But he’s probably left the cave by now.”

“What? Then why are you so calm?? What the- Tim, could you please tell him that I’m okay and on the way home?”

“Already done.” He said and looked at your drink and you took an educated guess at where his next stop would be.

“Here” you handed him the spare coffee that was meant for your boyfriend, but Jason probably didn’t need the energy boost anymore. You both started walking towards your apartment as you knew that he would’ve followed you home anyways.

It seemed to be one of these weird rules in this family to make sure everybody got home safe.

“Wait, how many people are looking for me right now? Or… you know, were looking for me until now?” you asked, afraid of the answer as the teen just stared ahead for a moment.

“Dick, the Outlaws, Steph, and Cass.” He said. “And Alfred is in the cave monitoring.”

“And Bruce?” you asked, more interested to know who would search for you in case you were really in danger. Besides the fact that your boyfriend is apparently having a meltdown right now.

“He’s busy.”

“Figured”

“And the demon spawn has no soul, so he refused to.”

“Oh.”

“And we all knew that Jason was just over-reacting.”

“And yet here you are.”

His hand went up to scratch the back of his head. “To be honest I was just on a coffee run.”

You nodded, understandingly.

“Did he reply? “ you asked after a few seconds of silence. You honestly missed your phone by now.

“Just a bunch of gibberish.” He looked at his wrist and took a sip of the coffee.

“He’s probably mad.” You said and Red Robin nodded.

“Shouldn’t be so surprising considering its Jason we’re talking about.”

And with that you both fell into silence.

___

A few minutes later you stood in front of your apartment door, alone, keys in hand and ready to unlock the door when it swung open and a strong hand pulled you in, the door slamming shut behind you. Your back leaned against the closed door but not because of balance but purely out of lack of space as your boyfriend, Jason Todd, hovered above you in all his fully-geared-up-but-helmetless glory.

His hands caged you in and you eyed him like a deer caught in headlights.

About a hundred different emotions washed over his face from obvious worry to anger and frustration until he finally sighed and gave way to the most prominent emotion – Relief.

You simply stared at him as he hung his head, trying to get over the initial shock from the multiple heart and panic attacks you made him go through.

On the first look you could understand why people thought he was intimidating but right now he just looked like a sad puppy whose owner has just left and locked the door.

Slowly you lifted your cup, pointing the straw at his direction as an offering of peace accompanied by a hesitant smile on your part.

He lifted his head, the frown back at his face, as he practically glared through you.

You lowered the cup again out of eyesight.

Another second of silence passed.

"You are so grounded.” He finally spoke and even though his expression was as stoic as ever, the tension has been finally cut and you couldn’t help but smile in relief.

He wanted to yell, to rant and to tell you exactly how goddamn stupid your stupid actions on this stupid day where but he couldn’t. Not when you were safe at home. Not with your scared expression so fresh on his mind and especially not when you looked so damn innocent, standing there.

“I’m sorry.” You finally offered.

Despite the now lighter atmosphere, you couldn’t even start to imagine what he thought had happened to you. You knew he had witnessed horrible things in his life and probably even on this day and you never wanted to be part of any of these scenarios.

But at the end of the day, it was just a forgotten phone.

Right?

Suddenly, with a single sigh, he looked as if he had just lost seven years of his lifespan before he rested his forehead on your shoulder, defeated.

You defeated Red Hood.

“Hey.” You said softly, placing your free hand on his hair as you slowly started to run your fingers through it. “I’m sorry I worried you.” You said, lifting your cup again as an offering and you felt him take a sip through the straw.

Ha. You knew it.

“Tori made a surprise visit and we went to the movies. She was so hectic that I completely forgot to take my phone with me.” You tried to explain. You hoped that knowing how your day actually looked like would replace whatever images he had already constructed in his head.

“You are still grounded.” He said and you rolled your eyes.

“And how was your day?” you tried to steer the conversation away from the topic while you still stood caged against the door. Not that you minded that much.

“Oh, the usual. A few rapists broke out, a human trafficking ring settled in fucking Gotham and the woman I love was suddenly fucking gone.” He said bitterly and you knew he wouldn’t let you live that down anytime soon.

“The woman you love, huh? As in present tense?”

He pushed himself off the door to glare at you again as you immediately missed running your fingers through his hair.

“Watch it. You are on thin fucking ice right now.”

“Jason.” You said, ignoring the fact that he had just stolen you Starbucks cup as you continued to talk. “Look, I made a mistake and it was stupid. I should’ve known better.”

“Damn right, you should have!”

“All I am asking for is a chance to make it up to you.” You said, your voice hung in the air with a hint of… seduction? You couldn’t help the effect he had on you, standing so close. And truth be told, you wanted to replace his angst with something more... nice.

Jason squinted at your words. “I don’t know, (Y/N).” he said, taking a sip before continuing, his face still only inches away from yours. “You really did a number on me.”

“And I’m fully repentant.” you said.

“So, what are you suggesting?” he asked and you knew that he had already forgiven you.

“Make-up sex?” you answered, and his expression didn’t change.

“No.”

This genuinely surprised you.

“No?”

“I’m not your whore.” He said and it took every ounce of willpower for you not to laugh.

“I never said that.” You said, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from giggling.

“I really don’t like your tone here.”

“Okay.” You said. “What are you suggesting then?” you asked and he looked pleased with this question.

“Make-up sex.” He answered.

“That’s exactly what I said.”

“Yeah. But I didn’t like the way you said it.”

“Jason.”

“(Y/N).”

You both stared at each other for a moment and you wondered how you possessed the willpower to not kiss him with his face so close to yours.

“So… Are we going to… you know?” you slowly said before he grabbed you and threw you casually over his shoulder like a very delicate duffel bag.

“Really?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile and you only heard him chuckle and put down the drink before he carried you through the living room.

“Gotta make sure you don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t. I already said I’m fully repentant.” You said as you heard his guns hit the floor and the sound left you tingling in excitement before he threw you on the bed, kicking the bedroom door close behind him.

“We’re gonna see how true that is.”

#my writing #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #batboy x reader #batboy imagine #tim drake #red hood #red robin

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