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gingersnaaps · 3 years

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sandman

to be taken by sleep really isn't such a bad thing - not when osamu's the one waiting in your dreams.

wc: 3.2k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, dubcon, creampie, breeding mentions, penetration, fingering, sex dreams, sleep paralysis, incubus!osamu vibes, vaguely supernatural, you fall asleep forever at the end, fem!reader with inner genitals

a/n: written for @ultimate-astridwriting's wonderful collab and inspired by my recent stint of sleep deprivation also i feel like i may have strayed a bit from the prompt but oh well

i don’t want minors interacting with my content

You can’t recall when Miya Osamu first started appearing in your dreams.

It was a subtle thing at first: the features of strangers, normally blurred beyond recognition, melded into his half-lidded eyes and soft smile, and you’d catch glimpses of his face in the reflection of windows and out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t think too much of it. You’d read an article somewhere that mentioned how faces in one’s dreams came from the interactions in our real lives, and with how much you’d been frequenting his onigiri shop, you suppose that his appearances were to be expected.

Still felt a little strange for you to be having a dream so intimate, though.

You’re lying on top of his broad chest, one arm on your waist, the other resting gently on your thigh. His thumb rubs tender circles into your skin, stroking softly as you rise and fall with the movement of his chest.

“‘Miya?” you ask tentatively. “How did I end up here?”

He chuckles. It’s a deep, rich, sound, one that reminds you of rivers running steady and full moons in the countryside, the vibrations passing from his body to yours. When he speaks, his voice is low and a little quiet, but with his lips grazing your ear, you don’t miss a single word.

“Call me Osamu.”

The familiarity leaves your face slightly flushed, embarrassment tingling across your skin. He shifts you around in his arms, tilting your body so that you meet his warm, inviting, gaze. The hand on your thigh seems to burn red-hot, and you wonder if he can hear the heartbeat pulsing just inches away from his fingertips.

He smiles softly at you. “You’re a beautiful girl.”

Your heart seizes, malfunctions, pounds erratically-

You wake up in the dark, damp sheets clinging to your skin, heart skipping like a schoolgirl and drunk off the compliment from your dream.

There’s a bad ache in between your legs. You trail a hand down your front, fingers sliding into your pajama shorts to quell your want.

Dusk is falling across Tokyo when you head to Miya’s - no, Osamu’s - onigiri shop. Twilight makes giants of the pedestrians, stretches out the shadows that loom tall in the soft gray-orange of the setting sun, the darkened shapes scurrying through the city’s rush hour.

Unlike them, you’re not going home.

A busy schedule meant little time for home-cooked meals, and the food here really was excellent. When you push open the door to his shop, the jangle of a bell sounds somewhere above you, and Osamu barely looks up before a smile settles on his face.

“The usual, I suppose,” he says, beckoning you inside.

You nod gratefully. The atmosphere of the shop is comforting - there’s just a few customers trickling through, picking up their to-go order that he’s prepared. You pick a seat near the window, one that gives you an unobstructed view of the sunset outside.

The chatter dies down as the last customers leave the shop, their onigiri clutched in hand, and a peaceful silence descends on the space around you. He brings out your food just a few minutes later, setting the dish in front of you.

“As requested by my favorite customer,” he says, a wry grin on his face. “Glad to have you back tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at the closeness between the two of you, and you suddenly feel embarrassed - ashamed of how much you’d been thinking about him, of the dreams you’d been having, of the way his touch had left you wanting for more in those same dreams - but it’s a good kind of embarrassed, one that leaves excitement bubbling in your core.

It feels a bit like a crush.

“Couldn’t miss out on the food, could I?” you reply.

“So you’re only here for my onigiri.”

“I- no, of course not."

“Just teasing.”

He smiles crookedly, and for just a moment, there’s a knowing glint that flashes in his eyes - the kind of expression that makes it seem like he’s aware of more than he’s letting on - but it vanishes almost immediately, passing too quickly for you to be sure of anything.

He turns to go back inside the kitchen, lifting up a hand casually to wave goodbye. “See you soon.”

Upon your arrival home, the first thing you notice is how very tired you are.

It’s not too out of the ordinary - it was a Monday afternoon, after all, and that had always been your least favorite day of the week - but the minute you crash onto the couch, your eyelids seem to droop with sleep, limbs growing heavy as the room around you swirls into a half-conscious haze.

You’ve still got chores to take care of. There’s dishes from the morning to wash, laundry to fold and put away, a few work emails to respond to that were probably very important, but you just can’t seem to stave off the overwhelming fatigue that seeps through your veins and numbs your entire body.

You need to sleep.

So you let it happen. You let your eyes flutter shut, let yourself relax and melt into the soft cushions of the couch, let your mind go nice and blank and empty.

After you give up the struggle of staying awake, the dreams come quickly.

“Glad to have you back so soon.”

The warm, quiet, voice from yesterday rumbles somewhere above you. You’re laying on his chest again, ear pressed to the soft fabric of his faded black shirt. You make a small, confused, noise, but he just laughs, gently brushing aside your hair, a hand trailing down your body and creeping closer to your inner thigh.

His touch feels electric. Every brush of his fingertips against your thigh, feather-light and teasing, leaves you with your heartbeat thudding in your cunt.

“We’ve gotta get you ready,” he murmurs. “Prep you well enough so that you’ll feel good when the time is right.”

You clench around nothing at his words, and maybe he can feel it with his hand so dangerously close to your pussy, because he smiles lazily and asks, “Are you that desperate?”

You’re not sure whether you should deny it - he can probably tell you are, anyway, but the thought of nodding, of saying yes, ‘Samu, want it so fucking bad - it leaves you with your cheeks flushed hot with shame.

He doesn’t need your explicit confirmation to read the way your body twitches against his, though, and he moves his hand lower to cup around your pussy. His palm is warm, the pressure steady and constant as he holds his hand still against your throbbing cunt. You can’t help but squirm against him, sloppily grinding your clit against his waiting hand, bucking your hips back and forth for any friction you can get. You’re panting, breaths quick and shallow as you feel the drag of the cotton panties in between his skin and yours, and a lewd moan tumbles from your lips. “Touch me,” you mumble, voice thick with arousal.

You look so pretty down there, hair mussed and mouth open slack in a perfect o, getting off all by yourself - he should give you a hand, shouldn’t he?

He nudges your damp panties aside, the thin fabric creasing the fat of your pussy as he brings a thumb up to your clit. His ministrations start slow, circling your clit patiently while you writhe from the pleasure, just barely dipping his index finger into your hole, his long, dextrous fingers skilled and patient as he works to search out the sensitive spots that leave you gasping and delirious.

“I want you dripping,” he says softly, sliding his finger inside all the way to the base of his knuckle. “Want you spread out on my hand, soaking me through, wet enough for me to fuck you full.”

You shudder with anticipation at his words, hips wriggling and rutting against his stiffening cock as his finger drags along the ridges of your g-spot. Every movement of his is accompanied by an embarrassingly audible squelching noise, your cunt already swollen and hot with arousal, your slick running in a cool trail down the crease of your thigh.

He flicks his thumb against your clit, this time more harshly. “ ‘m gonna fill you up so good when you’re ready,” he whispers. “Fuck you until your pussy milks my cock dry.”

Your eyelids flutter, a rush of pleasure crashing down on you as he pops another finger inside. Your hand fists at his shirt weakly, grabbing and pawing at the fabric as he curls his fingers just right inside you.

“You’re gonna feel so fucking good, sweetheart.”

You wake up from your dream as an orgasm ripples through your body, eyes flying wide open as you squirm and thrash on the couch. The pleasure coiling tight inside your core unwinds, pulsing in your cunt as you moan.

The room is dark and empty.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, vision bleary as you reach for your phone - it reads 7:00 AM. You’ve slept for almost twelve hours.

As you get up, swinging your legs off the couch and righting yourself, you notice one intense, overwhelming, feeling that roots you to the couch and leaves your limbs limp and loose:

You still feel so tired.

The rest of the week seems to pass by in a blur. You’re so exhausted you can barely think straight, stumbling from your office to your home - and sometimes to Osamu’s onigiri shop - going about your life half-dazed and barely conscious.

The only respite you get is in sleep.

Your dreams have gotten particularly intense as of late, head clouding full of visions where you’re fucked in every position: shoved up against the wall, facedown in the mattress, and even hoisted up on the counter. Through it all, there’s one constant.

Miya Osamu features in every single one of them.

You know his voice by heart now, a low, quiet, rumble that both soothes you and sets your cunt thrumming with anticipation. His silver-gray hair, his round, half-lidded eyes, the softness and the warmth of his body - they’re as familiar to you as your own features by now. You’re pretty sure you’ve even memorized the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you.

In every dream, he whispers the most tantalizing promises in your ear, breathing promises of how he’s gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart, gonna fill you up, gonna breed this pretty pussy until you’re carrying my seed inside you.

And even though you never wake up well rested anymore, you find that you don’t particularly mind. After all, there’s not much you look forward to in your waking hours. Every grating hour you spend working your stupid little job, or attending your lengthy, useless, lectures - it all feels like you’re just going through the motions, like you’re just trying to make it through so that night falls sooner and he can finally come visit you.

The week comes and goes, and soon enough, it’s already Friday.

You stumble in through the front door, a yawn itching at your throat, and you head straight for your bedroom. You pass by the ever-growing stack of dirty dishes in the sink, the stack of bills on the countertop, the laundry you’ve left in the drying machine. You’ll get to it next week.

For now, you just want to sleep.

The bedroom is gloomy and dim, grey light from an overcast twilight filtering through the blinds. The room feels stuffy in the dark, the four walls suffocating the small space, but you don’t bother with turning on the lights. Why would you, when you plan on heading straight to sleep?

You undress clumsily, almost tripping as you pull off your pants and shrug off your blouse, and stagger into the soft, warm, embrace of your bed.

A warm burst of comfort surges through you as the familiar feeling of drowsiness overtakes you. Your eyelids grow heavy, lashes fluttering slightly, the thump of your heart slowing - you’re right on the precipice between the conscious and the unconscious, straddling the border between sleep and waking -

You hear a voice sound from shadowy recesses of your room.

It’s a voice you’d recognize anywhere.

“I missed you at my shop today.”

You open your mouth to respond, but no noise comes out. It’s as if your vocal cords have been plucked from your throat, your voice frozen somewhere deep inside your trachea, and the only sound you can make is that of silence. A bit belatedly, you realize that you can’t move either, your limbs settling uselessly at your side as you lie paralyzed on your back.

A head of gleaming, silver, hair emerges in front of you, and your breath catches in your throat. You’re not sure if this is a dream anymore.

You blink once, and suddenly, you find him in your bed. He’s hovering above you, arms pressed to either side of your head, gazing down with a hungry, hungry, expression. He’s waited all week for this, sweetheart - won’t you finally indulge him?

He pulls the comforter aside, large hands gliding over your body and hoisting up your hips. You feel like a ragdoll in his hands, limp and immobile, and he rearranges your limbs and positions you until he gains easy access to your ready, waiting, cunt - the same cunt that he’s been preparing all week.

He drags a finger through your slick folds, already wet and sticky from the ministrations of the previous few days. There’s no need to bother with prep. He can already feel the way your cunt pulses at his touch, can see the need etched into the gleam of your eyes even as the expression on the rest of your face remains frozen.

His hand glides over his clothed cock, strained and throbbing with need as he pulls it out and strokes slowly, eyes fixated on your body the entire time. His dick is big, flushed almost purple as cream beads at the tip, balls fat and full and heavy.

Osamu’s had enough of waiting.

With a groan, he pops his cockhead into your drooling, twitching, hole, pushing in steady, thrusting all the way into your tightening cunt until he hits your cervix.

“Feels so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, face scrunched with pleasure. “So tight it feels like you’re trying to milk me dry.”

He rolls his hips slowly, dragging his cock along the front of your walls, the ridge of a vein pressing right into your sweet spot. Your legs twitch uselessly as he pulls halfway out before slamming his cock back in.

“I wonder if you’d like that,” he muses. He brings a thumb to rest at your puffy, swollen, clit, pressing down in steady circles, his touch unrelenting and firm, sending spasms of pleasure that leave you clenching and gripping down onto his thick cock.

“I think you would. I think you’d love it if I filled you up, if I fucked you full of cum and bred this tight little hole,” he says, the barest hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips. His voice is calm and steady - a striking contrast to his filthy words, his brazen promises.

His slow, steady, strokes quicken, hips slamming roughly into yours, each thrust satiating the want in your cunt. Your walls pulse as if they need to be filled, squelching lewdly as he fucks you hard and deep.

He leans down. His lips hover millimeters away from your forehead, just barely grazing your skin with tender, light, kisses. “Take it,” he whispers, thumb rubbing harshly at your clit. “Take it like a good girl for me. I know you can.”

The kisses he presses to your forehead start to travel down the underside of your jaw, soft little nips and bites with his blunt teeth that leaves a trail of his glossy spit on your face. His mouth finds your ear.

“When I cum, you better not waste a single drop,” he breathes. “Wanna fill you up, make you mine. I want to own this pussy.”

He brings his hand down to pat your stomach where your womb would be, rubbing the soft surface of your skin in tender circles. His balls are aching so badly - he needs to cum, needs that release, needs to stuff your messy cunt.

“Cum with me,” he urges. “Right now.”

The pleasure pulsing inside you draws taught - snaps - and you’re pushed over the edge. If you were still capable of speaking and moving, you’re sure you’d be moaning loudly, hips twitching uselessly as he creams your pussy over and over. He fucks you through your orgasm, spent cock softening inside you as you squeeze his dick. After all, he doesn’t want any of it to leak. He wants it sloshing around in your hole, filling you up until you’re warm and wet and sticky, wants to breed you, to mark you down as his.

You look beautiful with your insides stained white, he thinks.

You can feel your cunt twitching slightly as you come down from your high. He smiles warmly, gives your pussy a little pat -

You blink and he’s gone.

Almost as if he was never there in the first place.

Sleep takes you quickly after that. You’re exhausted from being fucked, exhausted from the constant stimulation, and you quickly fall fast asleep. All is silent and still in your darkened bedroom.

The next day, right as the sun starts to drop over the horizon, glinting stars nestled in the sky high above, you find yourself back in front of Osamu’s onigiri shop.

It’s partly due to the hunger gnawing in your stomach, but it’s more out of curiosity than anything. You need to know if it’s real, if he’s real, if the past two weeks were nothing but a fever dream.

And you really want to see him again.

As you push open the door to his shop, you’re greeted with his friendly smile, as usual.

“Same thing again?” he asks.

“Of course.”

The exhaustion hasn’t gone anywhere. You’re still constantly tired, always drifting off during the daytime, limbs weary and worn. When you sit yourself down at the usual spot - the table near the window - that irresistible fatigue seems to creep up on you again.

It’s so calm and comforting in his little shop. The lights are warm, the view is pretty, the quiet chatter of his few customers soothing to your ears. It’s so easy to rest your head in between your hands, shoulders slumping, mind empty of every little unimportant thought, so easy to just close your eyes, so easy to fall into the rose-tinted haze of your nice, pleasurable, dreams.

Osamu comes out of the kitchen in the back of the shop, carrying your food on a plate, and finds you fast asleep with your head on his table.

He’s not surprised. In fact, he’s quite pleased.

In fact, if he has his way, you’ll never have to wake up again.

tyvm for reading!! i really appreciate reblogs and comments - it's part of what motivates me to keep making content :)

here's my masterlist if you'd like more.

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dreamkidddream · 3 years

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Those Doll!anon fics were really amazing! I really wanna do something like it if you don’t mind. Could I maybe get a Yorkie!MC? Like, a really short, really friendly MC until they feel like they or one of the brothers/undateables are being threatened or insulted, then they try to pick a fight they’d obviously lose? I’m just laughing at the mental imagine of this short, unthreatening human yelling at and trying to square up against a demon lol.

Awww tysm!! 💙I missed writing for Obey Me (and we also hit 666 followers at this point 😈💜) and since this was so interesting I decided that I’m gonna do the Undateables first and then do the brothers cause I feel like I don’t show them enough love 😔 reader is gender neutral!

The Undateables with Yorkie!MC

Diavolo

He is LOVING your energy

Your happiness is so contagious, it just adds onto his already cheery demeanor. He honestly feels his cheeks hurting from smiling even more when you’re around (and he doesn’t even care!)

He’s gonna buy Lucifer so much Demonus as a thank you for picking you for the exchange program. Seriously, you’re PERFECT (for him)

As the President of Student Council and future King, he loves seeing you interact with the other students, and he’s glad that they’re reacting positive to you. At least some of them do

Now, no one is to foolish (or powerful) enough to threaten Diavolo or do anything to you that can bring you harm. They can try, but they won’t be getting the results that they hope for

But he can’t help it but find it amusing when you try to “defend his honor” when someone bad mouths him. He makes sure to not let it show (gotta be professional after all) but he does tease you about it later. You’re so small and seeing you just yelling square up to this demon is hilarious. He has no idea what geometry has to do with this, but he’s learned some new slang thanks to you!

He’s finally found someone who’ll go along with his antics and more. Whereas other people may complain about him wanting to do fun activities that seem basic, you just flash a big smile, grab his hand and tell him to lead the way

(You even made matching friendship bracelets and he refuses to take it off, ever)

You really make him happy MC. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this lighthearted, and he doesn’t feel the sense of loneliness that he felt himself getting used too

Also Lucifer gets twice the headache now, but the Demonus helps it go away (temporarily)

Barbatos

Ah, so another Luke, except older and that you take your threats of violence very serious, if what he sees (both in the present and the future) holds true (which it does)

You’re still harmless in his eyes though

Your friendly personality makes it easy for you to be forgiven for a lot of things…even if your actions make him give you the side eye at times

Despite how energetic you are (which is something that he’ll never grow tired of) your presence has a relaxing effect on him. Even if he has to warn you sometimes to be careful with the way that you bounce around so much, especially when he’s in the kitchen

He unfortunately can’t be by your side as he is Lord Diavolo’s butler, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t keep watch on you, even without the use of his powers

With how outgoing you are, you’re bound to attract trouble, in which you do at a constant rate. What was comical however, is that it seemed like the trouble you attracted was on his behalf

“MC, what seems to be the issue here?”

“BARB! You won’t believe this! This jerk has the nerve to call you stuck up- well I can show you stuck up! After I stick my foot up your- Huh? Hey, why am I the one being dragged away?! W- count yourself lucky that Barb is saving you right now demon! But this isn’t over- MPH!”

“I hate to spoil you before our tea party, but you were already late and I have been meaning to have you try my new recipe that I’ve been working on…”

You were too busy trying to savor the delicious flavor to focus on what just happen, which was his plan all along. You get to try more of his delicious treats and he gets to enjoy your touch and company. Crisis averted!

He’s crafty enough to have plans to evade you “fighting” and you haven’t caught on yet (or maybe you did and just feign ignorance? Either way works for him)

It doesn’t bother him what people say about him, he doesn’t care in the slightest (and they’re not bold enough to say it to his face). What he cares about is making sure that you keep your carefree energy, and that he keeps to see you with your radiating smile on your face

Simeon

You remind him so much of Luke. Are you sure you’re not from the Celestial Realm too?

Don’t worry he’s only teasing you (kinda) but you do have just as much energy if not MORE than Luke

And you don’t mind helping him either, no matter how “silly” his requests may be

“You’re doing great Si! See, you didn’t even need my help!”

“MC, I couldn’t have gotten to this point without you. My pictures are still coming out a little blurry, but that could be because you wouldn’t stand still- but it does add special kind of charm to them…”

He’s keeping them btw

He was shook when he saw you go off the first time, like he really wasn’t expecting it (Solomon did try to warn him, he was laughing but he did try to warn him)

“Don’t think just because he’s an angel means I’m bout to act like one! I will end you!”

MC please don’t make this demon “catch these hands” violence isn’t necessary

He doesn’t know what that means but he’s scared that he’s gonna find out if he doesn’t hold you back

He has reprimanded you each time when you try to fight others. He knows that demons see him as weak and talk behind his back, but he chooses to ignore them, to turn the other cheek. But just because he does, doesn’t mean that you do, and he sees that now

Simeon really doesn’t want you to fight, and it’s not even because it’s against his nature (it’s part of the reason, just not the whole reason). Fighting leads to injury, and injury leads to distress, and that’s the last thing that he wants to happen to you. And he’s not going to let anything happen to you!

He truly believes it’s a waste of time and energy, and you could find better things to do. For example, by spending time with him!

Simeon may not be your guardian angel officially, but he’s your guardian angel. Always

Has definitely written a character based on you

Luke

Is immediately upset that you don’t stay in Purgatory Hall with him, and even more upset that you don’t live in the Celestial Realm

You’re like the best older sibling he’s never had! And you don’t treat him like a baby either!

Or he’s just admiring you too much to notice

You never hesitate to help him with anything; baking, homework, pretty much anything and everything. He may try to make it seem like you need his assistance, but we all know it’s the other way around (with the exception of Luke himself)

We all know that Luke gets teased by the brothers and even his roommates sometimes (looking at you Solomon), but it’s just harmless teasing (for the most part). It’s when he hears what the other students say about him that gets to him- he tries to show that it doesn’t bother him and he tries to stand up for himself but- their words really hurt him

And no one hurts Luke and gets away with it

You already get onto the brothers for their teasing when it starts to bother him, and now the brothers have to jump in to stop you from trying to rip this demon horns’ off

You can’t really reach them and they’re pretty sure you won’t do any damage, but they rather not take the chance of you getting hurt

It’s not the first or last time that you do this either, and it just makes him feel horrible. He’s the angel here, the one that’s suppose to protect you, not the other way around!

You help him out so much, either without defending him you do so much for him already. How can he ever repay you? He feels like whatever he does won’t be enough…WAIT- he figured out what he can do!

He can get stronger and protect you! He can go to Beel so that you don’t have to fight for him anymore, or maybe have Solomon make some potions that’s like demon repellent but only for those jerks. If those mean demons see how serious and strong he is, then they’re bound to leave you guys alone! Maybe he can show you some tricks too once he’s done. He has to hurry up and tell you the plan then, you guys can’t wait any longer!

Their words do hurt, but so does seeing you putting yourself in harms way to protect him. You can’t do all the protecting MC, he needs to watch out for you too, no if ands or buts about it!

You and Luke are the duo we never knew we needed

Solomon

Ah, it’s about time he found a human as interesting and adorable as you. Where having you been hiding all his lifetime?!

He has wayyyy more fun teasing you than Luke. Your pout just makes things x100 better and cuter

Congrats on becoming his new victim MC

Another one to find you very amusing when you try to fight and won’t stop you either

He will dead serious be recording you trying to fight on his DDD. He’ll make sure that it doesn’t escalate but who is he to stop such entertainment?

He has become tempted to cast a superhuman strength spell on you, and he ends up doing it “on accident” (which has happened more than once)

Lucifer has done the “I’m watching you” thing to him every time he has lmao

But no seriously, he won’t let you get hurt; he won’t even let the chance arise. He’s already pulling you away before you can get yourself worked up fully, dragging you to the library or his room to test some new spells (one that he tempts you can use on these demons). It’s enough to get your attention back on him

You’re a daily source of his amusement and someone that he wants MC, but that doesn’t mean he can afford his favorite human getting hurt on his watch!

He’s no stranger to the gossip about him, nor is he clueless. It’s just all talk anyway, he doesn’t care and neither should you. But it is touching to know that you care this much about him and how he feels…

But he doesn’t want you to do this for him. He’s a powerful sorcerer, he can easily solve this without breaking a sweat if he wanted to, but he doesn’t deem it worthy to even waste a drop of potions on. But since you’re so concerned, maybe a quick kiss would make him feel better?

He thought you were a little gullible, but that’s not the case. You just have a very open and bright personality, one that he finds himself getting attached to more and more as each day passes

If he’s not careful, he might get more enamored with you than he already is-

#obey me #obey me reader insert #obey me x reader #obey me swd #obey me diavolo x reader #diavolo x reader #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #simeon x reader #obey me simeon x reader #solomon x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me luke #luke is baby

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psychovigilantewrites · 3 years

Text

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt.

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

357 notes · View notes

rynwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Bellissima

Maurizio Gucci x Female!Reader

“Bellissima,” Maurizio says, opening the bedroom door. You look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, and he smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

NSFW: PIV sex, Dirty talk, Oral sex (Maurizio to reader)

I am not Italian, nor do I speak Italian. Please forgive my awful Google Translate phrases haha, I’m doing my best.

“Bellissima,” Maurizio says, opening the bedroom door. You look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, and he smiles. “I’ve missed you.”

You’re in a hotel wearing a stunning, expensive set of lingerie.

“Only the best for you,” Maurizio had said when he’d told you where the two of you would be staying. It’s nice and private out here, and the meddling paparazzi haven’t found you yet.

Maurizio closes the door behind him.

“La mia bella ragazza,” he says softly as he walks over to the bed. “This set was made for you.”

“Yeah?” you hum. “You’re not disappointed?”

“God, no,” Maurizio says as he loosens his tie, pulls it off, and sets it on the bedside table. “You could never disappoint me, bellissima.”

You love it when he calls you that. The word rolls off his tongue, and there’s something so special about being called ‘beautiful’ in Italian.

It makes your stomach flutter and your cunt throb.

You hum.

“How was your trip?” you ask. You’re the first person he wanted to see, which is why you’re here now. It’s why you’re wearing the lingerie he bought you last month, and it’s why you’re quickly spreading your legs and for him now.

He sighs as he unbuttons his coat and shrugs it off.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “I will take my time with you tonight, bellissima.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It’s always been fast and rough with him before. You wonder what’s made him like this, what’s made him want to treat you with such care.

“Did something happen while you were away?” you ask. Although you don’t want to pry, you can’t deny the fact that you’re curious.

Maurizio shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about that, bellissima,” he says. “Just let me please you. Let me taste you.”

Yet another surprise, you think.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him as he pulls you down the bed and puts his big hands on your thighs.

“Si,” he says. He gives you a small smile. “Are you wet for me, bellissima?”

You laugh softly.

“Always, Maurizio.”

He yanks down the lacy panties, the ones that probably cost a fortune, and damn near rips them in half.

“Good girl,” he says, voice low. He moves in, then, and licks a stripe through your center. You moan softly, parting your legs further and reaching down to grip his graying hair.

“Fuck!” you cry, eyes closing as he sucks your stiff clit into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the bud as he sucks, and you’re not sure if you’ve ever felt this fucking good. His fingers, although they’re incredible, are nothing compared to this.

“You’re dripping wet, bellissima,” he says, pulling off for a moment so that he can look at you. Your wetness is smeared across his chin, and the sight of him like this makes you clench.

“I-I can’t help it,” you breathe shakily as he reaches up. He begins to finger you, then, and his wedding ring shines in the light. Your heart sinks as you’re reminded of what exactly is happening, of what exactly you’re doing to Patrizia.

Maurizio notices the way your face falls, and he follows your eyes down to his wedding ring. He pulls it off suddenly, and tosses it to the floor.

“Forget her, bellissima. Focus on me.”

You nod quickly.

“Yes, sir.”

He gives your thigh a comforting squeeze, then goes back to fingering you. You roll your hips up against him, and he leans back in to suck at your clit.

“O-Oh god, fuck!” you moan, already feeling yourself getting close as you clench around his fingers.

He pulls away completely, then, and licks his fingers clean. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Maurizio--”

“I need you, bellissima,” he says, getting off the bed so that he can unbutton his shirt, remove it, and take off his socks, shoes, and pants. He’s hard as a fucking rock, you can tell by the massive tent in his underwear, and when he pushes them down, you bite your lip.

“Oh, fuck, please . . .” you say desperately, moving your hips as he gets on top of you.

He kisses you, then, and you hum against his lips.

This is the part that always confuses you. The kissing. He does it like he’s a dying man and you are oxygen. He drinks you in, sucks and nibbles and bites, and you always fall for it. You always pull him closer. You always kiss him back.

Perhaps it is the only time he can truly kiss someone without feeling disgusted afterwards. God knows Patrizia doesn’t give him much affection, and here you are, a beautiful young woman who’s willing to give him what he needs.

That’s all you are.

A body for him to use, to kiss, to fuck.

And you let it happen, because you are seriously, deeply, scarily in love with him.

Maurizio lines himself up with your entrance, and when he pushes in, you stare up at the ceiling with tears in your eyes. Having him like this is such a sweet form of torture. You feel so close yet so far from him, so connected yet so divided.

“Christ almighty, bellissima,” he groans, hips rolling as he fucks you. Minutes go by, and his thrusts become sloppy. You’re moaning and sighing and clawing at his back, and he’s making the most incredible sounds . . .

“Say my name when you cum,” you whisper. Say that you’re mine. Say that I can have you, even if it’s just like this.

You will never be satisfied, this will never be enough, but you wish that it would be. You want him, in every universe, you want him. You’d do anything he asked of you without question, and yes, that’s dangerous, but you were his since the first time you saw him.

He calls out to you as he reaches his orgasm. He yells your name, screams it, makes sure that everyone passing by can hear it from the open window.

This is what brings you to the edge as you rub your clit desperately.

“Maurizio!” you cry, bottom lip quivering and body trembling.

“I’ve got you,” he breathes as you come down. He puts his hand on your cheek, then kisses you once more. “I’ve got you, bellissima.”

You nod, looking up at him as he pulls out slowly and lays down beside you. You feel his seed slipping out of your cunt, and you clench before you can stop yourself. You want to keep as much of him as close as possible.

You move a bit closer so that you can lean your head against his shoulder.

You take ahold of his hand, the one that the wedding ring was previously on.

I love you, you want to say.

“Thank you,” you say instead.

#maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x you #maurizio gucci x y/n #house of gucci #house of gucci fanfiction #maurizio gucci smut #rynwritesstuff

363 notes · View notes

sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years

Note

Pretty please with sugar on top can modern!Pero take me out on a date, can we get a babysitter for our four year old and drink cocktails and eat steak?! I would adore you forever. Can he call me cielo?!

You mean this little love taking you out for a night on the town? It would be my pleasure, mi cielito @yespolkadotkitty

Modern!Pero x reader

8.4K words

Warnings: fluffiness, children, food, smut, scarring

An agonised groan arises from Pero as a sharp knock sounds upon your door. Grabbing your chin between his thumb and index finger so that he can look you dead in the eye, he softly growls, “Right, hermosa - the plan of action is that we throw Javi at them and we run, sí?”

“Pero - these are your parents! You have not seen them in three months, they are going to want to see their big boy as much as their littlest one,” you castigate him, shaking your head, “I feel bad going out tonight and leaving Javi with them, when they have quite literally just landed here.”

Another knock. This time, it is even sharper and is followed by a shout through the structure, “¡Por el amor de Dios, abre la puta puerta! For god’s sake, open the bloody door!” comes Pero's mum's voice, “¡Puedo escucharte hablar, idiotas! I can hear you talking, idiots!”

Sheepishly opening the door, the broad expanse of your husband shrinks into a little boy - lifting his right hand to wave at her as he hangs his head, “Hola, Mama. Hola, Papa.”

After tapping his hip - as if he was still living under their rules - his mama pulls him into a massive hug and kiss, and all the grumpiness disappears from his face. Jimena then turns to you - placing her hands on either side of your face, her eyes crinkling kindly, saying, “Mija, go. My son needs to take you out - we will have plenty of time for catch-ups later.”

“You look so tired,” she tuts, “He has obviously not been taking good enough care of you, so go enjoy yourselves. We will see you tomorrow afternoon. I will have a sobremesa ready for when you return.”

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow afternoon?” The panic is written across your face and you spin around to where Pero is embracing his Papa as the two of them silently ask how the other is doing through their series of nods - a language you’ve grown to love learning.

“Si, we are not just going for food but I also got us a suite where we won’t be woken at 6 am for CBeebies and Cap’n Crunch.” With a soft smile upon his face, he reaches out to you, to pull you into his side. “My parents have wanted to do this for us for a while. It’s all booked, I’ve already packed - you don’t have to lift a finger, just come with me and we can pretend we’re not parents for a night.”

The wink and smirk from your husband makes your eyebrow raise, “Yeah? That feels like such a long time ago, I’m not sure I can recollect those times.”

“Let me help you remember, cielo,” his lips dust the sensitive skin of your neck before whispering, “We used to… sleep!”

“Pero - you can’t say that! Not in front of your parents,” you wickedly tease, both standing there chuckling in the hallway of your flat. Javi has long since been swept up in a tornado of kisses from his abuelita and abuelo.

Jimena reappears like the bruja, you are certain she is, “Pssh, how do you think this tonto arrived?” she pinches her son’s cheeks and the look upon his face screams for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Mama, por favor - we were talking of sleep,” Pero pleads, looking as if he is dying a little on the inside.

“Well, that better not be the only thing you do or you’ll have to book a second night too,” she shakes her head, returning to the kitchen with a wave over her shoulder, “Javi will be fine, apart from the terrible Spanglish he is speaking to his Tias Gloria and Elisa via FaceTime with Abuelo in the kitchen. Go, niños - enjoy yourselves.

“Javier - ahora sigues las reglas de la abuela, con muchos besos, azúcar y mimos. Javier - you follow granny's rules now,with lots of kisses, sugar and spoiling.”

A warm, large hand placed in the middle of your back seeks to soothe your worry at leaving your four-year-old baby overnight, the thumb stroking your spine, “Come on, cielo. The night is ours.”

✪✪✪✪✪

The train ride into the city is a sweet meditation on the sprawling urban landscape with its bright graffiti and soaring buildings, becoming more fervent in their wish to reach the sky, the further into town you go. Normally, Pero would sit opposite, with Javi tightly huddled into his side but today, your husband sits right next to you - thighs pressed against each other, an arm stretched around your shoulder as he absentmindedly fiddles with your hair. Both of you enjoy the quiet electrical hum of the engine, the quiet soundtrack of other commuters and the gentle rocking of the carriage that causes you to sway into each other.

“Are you ok, mi cielo?” your husband tenderly prompts, stroking a tendril of hair away from your neck.

“Yeah. I’m more than ok, mi sol,” you stroke his thigh gently, “I love Javi with all of my heart and soul but when we get time to be just us, that’s pretty fucking special.”

Turning towards Pero, threading your fingers through his hair - his arm now dropping to your hip, his fingers skirting up and down at the base of your spine, “Te quiero mucho. Thank you so much for this.”

Wordlessly responding to the gratitude, your husband tilts his head slightly as he leans forward to place the lightest of kisses upon your lips. How is it that even after all these years, even the smallest touch from him can utterly set every one of yoursenses on fire? Before you have a chance to ponder any further, his arms are encircling you to draw you in deeper to him, the kisses slowly building in their ferocity as you allow him to flood you with his love. In Pero’s arms, you feel swept away upon a surging tide that steals your breath with the warmth of his mouth, washing away every worry of what pertains to adulthood, blurring and replacing them with a swimming giddiness. You drink him in, kissing him back fervently - as if you were back in the swirling lights of that club and it was the first time all over again.

All too soon, the train pulls into the terminal and you have to disentangle yourselves from each other. Pulling apart, you hear a startled gasp from a couple sitting diagonally from you, causing Pero to spin around and glare, “Sorry for the surprise- from the kissing, my wife and I thought you were teenagers.”

Scowling and shaking his head at these words, Pero growls, “I will kiss my wife like this until I am cold and buried.”

The elderly woman winks at you, grinning, “Lucky lady!”

As Pero leads the way, offering you a supportive hand to get down from the train, you smile back over your shoulder at her, “I truly am.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Where are you taking me?” you gaze around at the tourists flowing in a river of smiles, their phones taking memories to show to their friends back home.

Stooping slightly to speak in your ear above the hubbub of the streets, Pero’s delicious baritone fills the shell of your ear, “Somewhere to line your belly before you line my bed tonight.”

A wave of heat washes through you at his words. There is a genuine moment where you deliberate whether you really want to eat out or just order room service and fuck this man’s brains out.

“Cielo? Shall we continue?”

Slowly raising your gaze to his, you bite your lip before responding, “I kind of just want to head to the hotel.”

“No. We eat, we drink, then…,” he straightens himself slightly, looking through his thick lashes at you, “Then you can do as you please with me.”

You stick out your bottom lip in protest, earning a teasing chuckle from your husband, “Why so sad, cielito? I promise it’ll be worth your while.”

“Better be.”

Pulling your hip into his, Pero nods towards an exquisite building - bold geometric lines with stunning ornamental curves and delicate stained glass windows decorate the Art Deco structure. You teasingly shrug your shoulders, “S’ok, I guess.”

After a small huff and roll of his eyes, his hand taps you on your bottom to urge you on forward. As you walk up to the building, a handsome, tall man sweeps in front of you to open the door, before politely stating in a cut-glass English accent, “Allow me.”

As you open your mouth to thank him, Pero’s brooding shadow catches the corner of your eye as he closes the distance to take the door from the sharply suited gentleman who has such a familiar face, “I hold the door for my wife.”

“Pero! I am so sorry for my husband’s rudeness,” you see a small tic in his jaw as you apologise to … Shit, that’s why he looks and sounds so familiar, it’s Tom fucking Hiddleston.

Bloody London and its bloody celebrities.

“Oh, it’s quite alright,” a small genuine smile crosses Tom’s face as he looks you up and down, “If you were my wife, I’d feel the same way.”

Shaking his head as his face softens, your husband mutters, “Yet, I am the lucky one.”

“You truly are,” Tom kindly agrees before turning to leave, “Have a wonderful evening!”

Standing there, wordlessly shaking your head at Pero. How is it that this idiot of a man manages to take himself from making you want to strip him naked and devour him to wanting to shake him for his grumpiness?

As he stands there putting in his reservation with the host, he keeps one hand on you. His fingers tracing along the waistband of your knickers through your dress, stroking back and forth. Whilst the host looks your reservation up on the system, Pero turns back towards you, his smile disappearing when he sees your face, “What have I done this time, hermosa?”

“Do you know who that was?”

“No lo sé I don’t know.”

Your husband’s ability to turn from a fully grown man to a sulky child in a split second, never ceases to amaze you. Drawing a deep breath and tapping into your pot of endless patience for him, you utter, “That was Loki.”

Pero does not speak initially, his mouth making a silent O before he eventually shrugs - a triumphant smirk upon his face as he snorts, “Loki thinks my wife’s hot. Have to say I agree with him. Maybe I’ll forgive him for his earlier transgression.”

In an Oscar-worthy performance, you clutch your hand to your heart as you place another upon your husband’s chest, “Your generosity to others' indiscretions is boundless, mi amor!”

“Gracias, gracias,” he chuckles, reluctantly laughing at his truculence.

✪✪✪✪✪

Before you can playfully swat at your husband, the host offers to take you upstairs. As you walk further in, a spiral staircase curls languidly upwards. Pero steps behind you, making his way in your previously trodden steps as you both ascend the swirling back and white marble. Whilst you know that Jimena would have drummed these manners into him as a little boy, you give him an extra roll of your hips with each step, enjoying the quiet groan he releases.

Entering the bar, the waiter, who takes over your care from the host, shows you to some seats in the bar whilst you wait for your table to be ready. A leather-bound cocktail menu is placed in your hands awaiting your perusal, the paper inside expensive and glossy.

“What will it be, madam?”

“I wish I could have one of everything. Hmmm,” you ponder as your face twists quizzically. You don’t notice how Pero watches you deliberate whether to go with the apples to booze alchemy of Le Crunch 75 or the light, bitter and bright Falling Water Spritz?

“Any idea, querida?” the green leather of the bar stool creaks as your husband shifts his weight, awaiting your decision with a patience he ill affords anyone else.

“Think I’ve got it down to two cocktails but they both look so good,” your mouth watering at the thought of the tartness of the drinks.

“Okay, we will take one of each of the cocktails my wife can’t choose between,” you send him a silent thank you at his words to the server.

As they leave, Pero reaches across the table to take your hand in his. The span of his hands entirely covering yours as his fingers and thumbs trace lazy patterns across them. Without fail there is always a part of him touching you - it is almost as though through this level of contact, he is able to deal with the bullshit from the rest of the world. His grumpiness allays with every stroke of you - whether skin to skin or through a layer of clothing. A smile ticks at the corners of his mouth as he recharges his ability to deal with the universe by being as close to you as he possibly can.

Out of Pero’s hawk-like hearing, William has often remarked to you about how much you have softened his business partner (for the better) to the point where occasionally, when he has a full belly of food, he will even allow your husband to talk to new clients. His brilliance in IT security, having started out as a bedroom-based hacker, has never been in doubt but his softer skills - the ability to not utterly terrify people - have always been somewhat lacking. Now as an ethical hacker alongside his oldest friend, and with you, cushioning his hard edges - he manages to speak a little more politely.

Well, most of the time.

Pero had apparently known from the moment that you trod on his foot that he would marry you, telling William mere seconds after you had both shoved each other on that fated dancefloor. Spending the rest of the night utterly spellbound by this hechicera enchantress, watching how you twirled and spun upon that floor, chattering away easily with your friends - your face so animated and passionate. He knew. That night, William spent so much time trying desperately and failing spectacularly to get his friend to rejoin the bachelor party to celebrate his last nights as a free man but Pero positively growled at his friend’s efforts as for him this was it. He just knew. William eventually patted his friend on his back and left him staring at you across that darkened room with its throbbing music, a little jealous. He mentioned to you a little later, over some beers at his wedding, that the love he had with Lin Mae was not quite as instantaneous.

“Your drinks,” the server returns with a smile at how neither of you have seemed to move in the time they’d been at the bar, utterly lost in each other, “Your table should be ready soon.”

“You choose which one you want to start with and I shall take the other,” Pero lifts his chin towards the drinks before reaching for the one you do not gravitate towards, “Salud, mi amor.”

“Salud,” as you take a sip, the raspberry eau de vie entirely cleanses your palate, “Why did you not just order your own drink, rather than letting me order both?”

Sitting back, he shrugs a little as a flicker from the candle flame sparkles in his eye, “I don’t care about the drink. It’s just being able to have this time with you.

“We work very hard. Such long hours and then in the evenings when we’re together, it is us just being Javi’s mami and papi until we flop on the sofa too tired to be human. Like you said earlier, I love our niño with all of my heart but having you to myself - that’s something else. And, if it means that I try a cocktail that I wouldn’t have necessarily picked from a menu because that way you get to try both, so be it. I get to see the woman I love being happy and that is everything to me. Although, I see I might not get to taste the one you have… had in front of you, si?”

“It’s warm here. It must have evaporated with the heat,” a warmth creeps through your cheeks, although not necessarily due to the alcohol. Leaning towards Pero, you drop your gaze coyly - your tongue dancing across your lip before uttering, “There is another way you could taste it.”

“Si?” his eyes drop to your lips, head tilting towards you.

Breaking the moment to sit back in your chair, you declare, “You could order another one.”

“Ah qué coqueta! What a tease!” Pero breathlessly gasps, gently grabbing a handful of your dress to pull you to his lips as you giggle into his mouth.

A small cough alerts you to another presence at the table, “Sorry to disturb you, your table is ready.”

Walking through the restaurant, you realise that most of the light has dipped from the day as the rays entering through the half-moon-shaped windows now has an inkier depth than the last rays of autumnal sunlight you’d entered the bar in. Along with the softly flickering candlelight and shy sconces semi-concealing anything more than a glow, the low-lit ambiance casts a romantic softness around the room. All around, the scents of wondrous feasts arise from people’s tables making you desperate to dip your fingers in the sauces on the plates you walk past - it is all you can do to keep your hands to yourself and knowing Pero, he’d be feeling exactly the same way. Finally having walked across the beautifully polished herringbone flooring, you reach your table for the night. Having been handed your menus and left to peruse the offerings, you notice that as soon as the server leaves you, Pero places his menu face down upon the walnut table.

“Cariño, what’s wrong? Why aren’t you choosing your food?”

A small smirk plays below his thick moustache, “You look worried cielo, and you needn’t be. I learnt the menu before we came so I know exactly what I am having. The half lobster to start, the chateaubriand for main, and the pavlova to finish - then cielo, you may roll me out of here a happy man.”

“I swear your brain is located somewhere near your tummy, but I cannot fault your choices- can we also get the grilled bone marrow, triple fried chips and asparagus, please?”

“Por supuesto, mi amor.”

As if by magic, your server reappears as Pero’s eyes start to search the room, “What would you like to order, madam?”

“I think we will both have the half lobster to start- and could we have some pisco sours to go alongside that, please? For the main, we will have the chateaubriand- medium rare with the triple fried chips, grilled bone marrow, asparagus and a bottle of the Black Label Rioja, thank you.”

“Perfect choices and drinks to go with them.”

The entire time you’ve been sitting at the table, Pero’s long legs have been stretched between yours and now that your menus have been removed, he reaches across to take your hand in his. Having obstacles, such as tables, between the pair of you means that Pero seeks out other ways to have that constant contact. Unlike you, who are currently soaking up every opportunity to people watch, Pero enjoys watching every flicker upon your face - every twitch of amusement and momentary frown as you take in the details of the other diners.

“Are you playing your game again, mi amor?” he questions with a crinkle of his eyes.

“Too right I am - are you going to help me?” your grin grows as you gaze around the tables of diners.

Releasing a small huff, Pero’s face crumples in a small frown, “How can I? My back is to the room. I cannot see their faces, si?”

“Use the mirror behind me - I’ll describe their clothes then let's work out why they’re here and if it’s a date, what number it is, and how well you think it’s going.

“Ok, table to my right, he looks very preppy - starched shirts, ironed creases and floofy hair hiding a receding hairline. City type. She looks like a quirky artist - purple hair fading to magenta at the tips, green eyeshadow and bright blue fifties prom dress.”

“He is massively punching. She’s far too pretty for him and he’s too dull for her. Second date - she’s enjoying being wined and dined - and to be honest, she looks like she could do with a decent meal - but not the company. ¡Siguiente!Next!”

With the laugh escaping your lips, your chin tilts up and your eyes become crescents, “You’re so dismissive, cariño. Give them a chance - he can’t be that dull. He’s certainly passionate about something because look at how he’s using his hands when he speaks.”

“Si, Pero look at how she is having to use her arms to fend off the flying food being spat at her from his passion,” Pero crosses his arms, shaking his head, “Querida, I bet his passion is his Tesla that he only bought as a status symbol not because it is a good car.”

Your discussion of the couple is prematurely halted by the arrival of the Pisco sours and lobster. A Cheshire Cat-like grin carves its way across your husband’s face - his eyes hooded and heavy - as the food’s aroma hits his nose, “Are these Dorset Blues?”

“You know your lobsters, sir,” the server smiles genuinely, looking impressed at Pero’s knowledge, “They are indeed - fresh off the boat this morning. Enjoy!”

“We will,” after shaking his napkin out to place it upon his lap, your husband looks up and catches you grinning at him, “What is that smile for, mi amor?”

“One day. One day, we will own a small restaurant by the sea and you can cook all those amazing dishes you grew up eating.”

On hearing your words, he pauses in his demolition of the food in front of him to consider your words before swallowing his mouthful, “Only if we promise not to hit new parents around the ear.”

“Are you still sore about that, sweetheart?” you snort into your drink, the memory refreshing itself in your brain.

“It was well meant if a little heavy handed and all three of us went on to have a lovely meal that night, once you were able to separate yourself from Javi for two minutes.”

Pero’s brow furrows sulkily as he sets to eating once more, “Want me to help you with your cracker for the claw?”

“Hmmm, I’m wondering what your commission will be, Señor Tovar,” you eye him suspiciously over the top of your pliers, the cold metal kissing your lips as your eyebrow arches skyward, “You do an amazing job of removing all the meat but then I probably lose about the same amount as I would if I did the cracking myself...So I ask you, what do you charge, sir and is it worth my time?”

“For that damning indictment of my character, twenty percent, señora,” he huffs in mock outrage.

“Make it ten and I’ll look the other way when you lick your knife.”

“Fifteen and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Sold, to the sexy Spaniard sitting opposite me,” you comically wink at him as you pass your plate over.

“Still find me sexy after all these years?” a little smile plays at the corner of his mouth as he expertly cracks the claw in front of him, not damaging a bit of meat.

“Yeah, you’re alright,” you grin as you take another sip of your sour, “You’ll do.”

Pero passes you the meat back, “Praise indeed. Here is your meat, señora.”

“And your cut, sir,” you load up a forkful of the succulent flesh and offer it across the table. You watch as Pero’s lips open to devour it, the thoughts racing through your mind of other things that he loves to ravage with his mouth.

✪✪✪✪✪

After your plates are tidied away and Pero’s knife shines more than the rest of the cutlery, your steaks, sides, and wine arrive. You love watching how your husband’s eyes light up with the reveal of each item as he steadily loads up the plate in front of him. His love of food is one of the many reasons you love him. How, on that first date, he’d been impressed with the way you’d kept up with his eating and drinking (but perhaps not quite as well with the latter). How that dinner easily moved into breakfast behind a large pair of sunglasses, then lunch, then dinner again. Each date never quite ended for longer than one of you running to find a clean set of clothes, but always revolving around food and each other.

The food is utterly sumptuous - you make easy work of it, devouring the melt-in-the-mouth meat and perfectly cooked chips. The wine too evaporates easily into your welcoming mouths. You notice a tiny flicker of annoyance as Pero stabs a spear of asparagus, giving it a serious side-eye before placing it in his mouth, muttering, “I can’t believe you made me eat something green.”

“What am I now, your mama?” you raise your eyebrows at his moan, “At least I didn’t order the spinach too this time. Come on, let's choose another table - your turn.”

“Okay, querida. Two tables to your left.”

“First date.”

“Obviously - do you think it will last?”

You nod silently, fully understanding the look that is shared between the new lovers. That moment where reality becomes like one of those photographs with a fuzzy background - the only part in lucid focus is the person in front of you. Every other detail of where you are completely blurred out of existence, utterly meaningless in that moment.

“Me too,” Pero says softly, making a small lump rise to the back of your throat, “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it just makes me happy. Brings back memories.”

The gold of his ring glints in the candlelight as he reaches across the highly polished walnut surface to take your hand, “The moment I met you, you filled my lungs with the sweetest, freshest air I have ever breathed. And I knew. I knew straight away that you were the person with whom I would spend the rest of my life.

“It wasn’t a matter of you being perfect, and we both are fully aware that I am certainly not either but we are perfect for each other. You are the first person, I have ever allowed myself to be everything that I am. You allow my soul to breathe. You let me be and love me for the man I am.

“I know I have never really told you that - how much you mean to me - and I should have done it, years ago. I love you. I love you with every part of me. I loved you from the moment you stepped on my foot…”

Through a snotty and tear streaked face, you complain as your voice stutters quaveringly upon the words, “I didn’t tread on your foot - you were just looking for a way to touch me - although it couldn’t have been anymore playground. Should have just pulled my plaits…”

“Corazón,” Pero’s eyes darken a little as he pulls your hand closer to whisper in your ear, “I found that pulling your hair had a very different effect on you a couple of days later so probably best that I didn’t do it in the middle of the club.”

You smirk into the bowl of the wine glass before your husband continues, “I tell you that I love you all the time but perhaps not the depth of my feelings for you and how quickly I knew that you would be it for me.”

“Maybe not aloud. Maybe not through words but in your actions and your constant thoughtfulness, I have always known.” You stroke the olive toned back of Pero’s hand, “I don’t think you realise how much you say in the things that you do. My glass of wine on the table when I get home from work. The photos of Javi you send me as you pick him up from school every day. If I’m anxious about something - using your grumpy common sense - you manage to talk me down. You show your love for me a thousand ways every day.”

Clearing your plates without breaking the moment being shared between you and Pero, the servers pass around you as if they were ghosts. Letting go of your husband’s hand, you stroke his cheek as you walk past him to the loo to sort out the mess he’d made of your face. Nuzzling into your hand, he kisses it as you drift by. On your way to the bathroom, you pass many other dates in various stages of their relationships but there’s only one that truly matters. A quick glance over your shoulder tells you everything - he has turned to watch you walk away. His shy smile at being caught lights up your cheeks as you open the heavy door.

The bathroom is a glorious celebration of monochrome geometric shapes and brass fittings. Walking up to one of the stunning sunburst mirrors affixed to the wall, you set about fixing the makeup that was left to stream in rivulets down your cheeks with Pero’s declaration. Rubbing off the panda eyes and applying a new layer of lipstick, you make to leave but are alerted to a rustle of electric blue taffeta coming through the door, “I love your dress. It’s utterly stunning.”

“Thank you - listen, I hope this isn’t weird but I actually came in here to check that you were ok as I saw you cry at the table,” the concerned face of the woman from a couple of tables to your right checks you over.

“Sorry, it must have looked a bit dramatic but my normally quiet, grumpy husband was just being soppy,” you giggle in the bathroom camaraderie, gesturing to your face, “Hence the snotty mess. Never managed to be a pretty crier.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” the blue dress lady strokes your arm empathetically, “I’m a bit jealous. Mine is a Tinder date. He’s great in bed, but I hate that he feels he has to buy me dinner first.”

Laughing at her honesty, you shake your head, “At least enjoy the food - he’s brought you to a decent restaurant! Have a good rest of your evening and thank you for checking. My husband might come across as abrupt and look a bit scary but he is the sweetest person I know.”

Suddenly, a whim overtakes you. Thinking upon all of those little acts of love Pero does for you daily, you decide it is time to do one for him as you duck into one of the stalls.

✪✪✪✪✪

When you return there are dessert menus on the table, and Pero’s head turns as he hears your footsteps come closer, “Hoping that I would be someone bearing food?” you ask him teasingly.

Huffing softly at your comment, he shakes his head, “You wound me, señora. I was looking out for mi bella esposa but it seems she dipped her tongue in acid during her toilet trip.”

“Just entirely realistic. I know my place - huge emotional declarations aside - Javi and I still rate slightly lower than food in your world.”

A mock gasp escapes Pero, “Mi amor, our son is not lower than food on the scale of things that I love!”

As the server once again rejoins your table, you sit there mouth agape before bursting into a fit of giggles at your husband’s teasing. Pero is the first to speak, “If you could give us a couple more minutes please?”

Quickly brushing off your husband’s wish for you to have more time, you offer, “Oh no, I can choose quickly. It’s fine, thanks.”

“Well, while she chooses, I shall have an old fashioned and a strawberry and elderflower pavlova to finish, please.”

“Make that the same for me, please,” you ask the server, smiling as you hand the dessert menu back.

“Any coffee after the meal?” the server prompts politely.

Pero is quick off the mark in his response, “Two double espresso, please.”

Placing his palm up on the table in front of you, you place your left on top, stroking the lines sprawling across his calloused hand, “Do you think we should check in and see how the house of madness is doing?”

Pouting as he shakes his head, Pero rumbles, “No need, I already did when you left the table. Wanted to see if they’d put him to bed at a decent time.”

“Had they?”

The note of derision that passes through Pero’s lips causes several heads to turn in the restaurant, “Psssh! Course not! I think Javi has spoken to most of Andalusia this evening, been fed a diet of white sugar and food colouring, and thoroughly spoiled within an inch of his life.”

“But…,” you grin lazily at your husband.

“Si, querida?”

“He’s not our problem in the morning, hermoso.”

You watch as a slow smile spreads across Pero’s face at the realisation that he would wake up next to only you in your bed, “Oh the thought of my head nestled into your breasts instead of Javi’s big toe in my ear and his knee resting threateningly at my collarbone. I swear that boy is half araña Spider when he sleeps.”

“I swear, he does nothing but eat but all his limbs are just hollow. Mind you, you were all gangly as a child - the broadness came in a bit later, didn’t it?” your smile reaches both your ears as you recall the photos of your teenage husband - the skinny goth, who never left his room or computer.

Drawing a deep breath, Pero furrows his eyebrows, “When have you seen photos of me as a teenager, hermosa? Has my mama been showing you photos again? I thought I got rid of them.”

Your eyes dance wildly with laughter as you clamp your hand over your mouth, “No, my love. It’s not the photos your mama has shared of you that I’m thinking of. Not the family sanctioned ones of you wearing Ben Sherman shirts and chinos without the black lipstick and eyeliner. It was your exchange student friend- you know the one who came over from Ireland - who showed me the photos of you glowering in corners, wearing a lot of dog collars, Cure T-shirts and sporting a mop of raven black hair.”

As the incredible plates of strawberry and elderflower pavlova are presented to your table, there is a tic of embarrassment beneath Pero’s left eye, “¡Hijo de puta! Son of a bitch! Oh, I will destroy William when I next see him.”

“You need to teach me your eyeliner tricks, as you were way better than me. Hang on, is that how you became so good at nail polish?” you tease mercilessly.

“Well, if I was going to do it, I was going to do it properly. And… And there was another reason,” guilt floods your system as you see a flash of sadness cross your husband’s face.

“I was a typical self-conscious teenager with mild depression, mostly due to how I looked. Because of my scar, I felt like no one would ever want to be friends or anything more with me. After a particularly bad few weeks, mama took me to a plastic surgeon, who felt that further surgery would make the scarring worse but that perhaps makeup would reduce the angriness of the tissue.

“So I visited an amazing woman who taught me how to cover it perfectly using skin camouflage creams and other techniques for hiding everything from spots to keloid scarring. It all became a mask- a mask that I wore when I first met William. But as I grew into my skin and became a bit more confident as to who I was, I dropped the mask.

“And as for that tonto friend of mine, he was the first person to see me without- how does your mother say about her wearing makeup? Ah si - putting her face on. He saw me without my face on and he still wanted to be my friend. And if it wasn’t for that cabrón, I… I guess we wouldn’t be here now.”

“Maybe don’t destroy him too hard then, mi sol,” you gently utter, holding his hand so tightly, “I didn’t know any of that - I am truly sorry that you ever felt that way.

“I’ve always thought you were incredibly handsome - your dark curls, those goddamn cheekbones you can cut glass with and those beautiful lips. Those deliciously full, beautiful lips with that little maker's mark in the middle. Right from the moment I pushed you back and you grinned at me. Didn’t quite get why you stared at me for the rest of the night, right up until I was about to leave though.”

“I was having all these imaginary conversations with you inside my head, which is why I didn’t talk to you until after I kissed you,” Pero shuffles awkwardly in his seat, “I couldn’t then imagine a universe where you would willingly want to be around me.”

Drawing his hands to your lips, you kiss the calloused knuckles gently as you express, “I hope that you do now.”

“Querida, you have always made me feel utterly cherished. It may have not been the most conventional way to start speaking to someone but from the first moment you looked at me, you always made me feel like I am worthy of your love.”

There is sweet heat that runs through you at his words. You fully accept that albeit not legally, the two of you were married with your eyes and soul on that night in Sevilla. In that dingy club where the bass of the music could be felt in your ribs, within that first kiss you had seen all of each other - all the joys and all the sorrows - and it was not only Pero who had known that night as you had felt it too. You knew you had found your home.

“You know this is possibly the longest that food has ever lasted in front of us,” you remark upon viewing the as of yet untouched desserts sitting on the table between you.

Shaking his head slowly, Pero’s eyes glint mischievously, “No cielo, not the longest. Do you not recall the amount of picnics we packed and never ate, until we got in the car to go home?”

“We did have some of the best picnics ever in some very pretty car parks,” you snigger as you finally lift a forkful of the dessert to your mouth.

“Strange how we always found other things to do, sí?”

“Like taking in beautiful views?” you wink over another mouthful, enjoying the crisp outer shell of meringue cracking between your teeth before your tongue explores the sweet marshmallowy softness hidden inside.

“I can’t imagine what you mean, hermosa.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Wait!”

You try to hide your smile as Pero spins back looking quizzically. His confusion makes perfect sense, after all, he has taken one step away from you outside the restaurant and your hand is still encased in his, tightly. One small tug of your husband’s hand and you are standing flush to his chest, your head tilted up to end the question upon his lips. With the bitterness of the espresso still fresh on his tongue, you grab fistfuls of his shirt to anchor yourself somewhere solid as he finds a gentler refuge upon your hips.

Eventually pulling apart, a smile slowly stretches across your face as you gaze into the burnt umber of your husband’s eyes, “Just missed those lips.”

Clasping his hands either side of your head, he nuzzles your forehead before dusting the sweetest of kisses upon there, then tucking you into his side as you walk into the torrent of tourists decorating the pavements along Regent Street. Blurry Edwardian facades forged from Portland Stone slide past as you pass shop after shop after shop until you tap on Pero’s tummy to point out the mosaics adorning the arches of the Apple store.

After a short walk, you come across a behemoth Victorian building that wouldn’t look out of place as a castle in the forests of Bohemia. Your husband pauses to gesture towards it, “Your place of rest for the night, my lady.”

With a wicked sparkle in your eye, you turn to Pero, “I hope rest is not the only option…”

Undoing his top button and loosening his tie, you see your husband start to teeter on the edge as you enter beneath the stately arches. Managing to behave yourselves impeccably as you walk through the foyer, you drink in the opulence of the hotel. Rainbow shards of light from the decadently strung crystal chandeliers dance across the highly polished marble flooring. You try to catch some of them on the toe of your shoe - a little quirk that has your husband’s eyes crinkling in amusement. In perfect step, you beat a path up the curving staircase, one of his hands on your hip guiding you towards the elevators.

As you walk towards the crowd awaiting the lift, there are several mirrors lining your way. In one, you catch a flash of feral lust darken Pero’s eyes. Finally arriving to the side of the group, your husband stands with his body flush to your back. Winding a hand in your hair, he gives it a small tug so that your throat opens to him. As his teeth graze along the sensitive flesh, his voice growls in your ear, “What happened to your underwear, cielo?”

“I… I took it off,” you stutter out, realising that he had no longer felt it beneath his fingertips as you had climbed the stairs together, “In the bathroom at the restaurant.”

You know that this piece of information has got to be driving your husband wild as you wait for the elevator. Pero’s fingers find traction upon your hips and the sweet sound of his breath catching in his throat has you wanting him as desperately as you know he needs you.

The elevator eventually shows with a sharp ting heralding its entrance, allowing the exit of another group before finally permitting your crowd entry. Despite being one of the last to arrive, you are shuffled into a far corner with Pero tucking himself neatly behind you. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressing up against your ass. Smiling to yourself of the power in your hips, you wriggle yourself against him - smirking with glee when you feel him grow harder.

As the elevator doors slowly pull shut, Pero gruffly calls out for someone to press the button for floor 15. It seems as though everyone is either a Londoner or well-versed in elevator etiquette as no one looks or speaks to anyone else. No one has a clue that you have no underwear on. No one has a clue that you are wriggling against your husband’s cock. And in that cramped corner of the lift, no one has a clue that he’s started to lift the back of the skirt of your dress.

Trying to regulate your breathing, feeling a tingle of excitement building in your tummy - the sneakiness of this act flutters through you as all the blood in your body heads south. As the elevator reaches the third floor, two people leave and another three join. As everyone shuffles to find comfort, that is when you feel your husband’s hand dip between the two of you, freeing his dick from his trousers so that it taps proudly against the unclothed apex of your bottom. You stare dead ahead into an unknown space, desperately trying to not create eye contact with anyone.

More people leave on the fourth floor allowing a little more room to spread out in. Pero takes advantage of this, sliding down the back wall a little to nudge your knees out. Having spread your feet a bit further apart, he tucks his hips back to press his cock into your awaiting pussy. Anyone looking at your face would have known that something is going on as his cock slips into your welcoming depths.

Having chosen such a floaty, peasant-style dress is massively working in your favour. The front drapes beautifully - hiding all manner of sins. The lightness of the fabric is just swaying, possibly - to any onlooker - as it should with the gentle ascent of the elevator. Being still wedged in the corner also means that there is no clear view of the sides of you.

You squeeze your cunt around him. Clenching rhythmically around the taut head of his cock and loving the stuttering breaths in your ear as he grabs at your sides, his fingers giving away his desire for a release.

“Princesa,” he warns quietly as his cock trembles within your warm, wet depths, “I will not make it to our room.”

His words give away so little of what is happening should anyone overhear - the two of you preferring to communicate through his agonising twitches and your squeezes.

Sixth floor.

Seventh floor.

Eighth.

Ninth.

On the tenth floor, more people exit with just one businessman and an elderly couple remaining with their eyes fixed upon the bronze doors. Pero and you are still squished up in the corner with his back to the mirror, not daring to make any sudden movements. Hishands slide up the inside of your linen waterfall cardigan- his whole attitude screaming fuck it.The elevator is almost empty at by this point.. Searching out your breasts, his hands ghost up your sides seeking out your soft, supple flesh. Thumbs and fingers exploring, pinching at your nipple as his cock twitches inside you all the while

By the doors shutting on the twelfth floor, you are alone and decide to give the CCTV handlers a good time. Pero grabs your tummy to steady you, growling, “Turn with me.”

A quarter turn from you and your husband has you facing the mirror as he roughly fucks into you from behind. Pulling away slowly until only the tip remains before slamming his full thickness into you - one hand squeezing a breast, the other stroking your clit. You open your eyes to watch as he rubs your clit rhythmically - that wave of tension building, building, building until you crash, cumming hard and wailing Pero’s name as you gasp for air. The clench of your cunt rips the climax from your husband, making him groan loudlyin your ear as he spills inside of you.

Breathlessly gazing upon each other in the mirror- sharing a smile- you wriggle a bit to try to regain the feeling in your jelly-like legs.

“We don’t have time for a second round here, Cielo,” Pero chuckles into your neck before nipping playfully at it.

The elevator stops, the doors slowly open - you adjust yourself quickly before wrapping an arm around Pero, desperately needing his solid, broad form for support, feeling as shaky and unsteady as a newborn foal, stepping into the hallway. Leaning heavily into his shoulder, you take tentative steps towards your room for the night, his cum leaking down between your legs.

Sliding his keycard and opening the door, Pero bows and gestures for you to enter, “Mi amor - your chamber awaits.”

“Oh Pero! This is …”

Walking through the small kitchenette into the main room, the illuminated view of London from the window takes your breath away. The glorious mess of neon lights and tangle of streets lie beneath your feet as you gaze out across the manic hustle and bustle of Oxford Circus. Lost in your thoughts, you barely register Pero pottering around behind you. Eventually, you turn to find a steaming cup of verbena herbal tea beside you - the scent taking you home to all the evenings you spend curled together with tea cups balanced precariously upon the sofa - as you lift it to your lips to take that first heavenly sip. You become aware of a gentle thundering in the background - the drumming sound of water filling a bath permeates the room before a soft pair of padding footsteps make their way over to you.

“Hermosa, can I get you undressed?” The husky baritone of your husband requests as his fingers wait patiently for permission to peel back your cardigan and dress.

A small nod from you has his fingers gently taking your arms from your sleeves, before shifting your hair over your shoulder to unzip the back of your dress. As the fastening falls open, he trails a finger along your spine, then gently stroking the straps down your arms as the material floofs cloud-like to the floor in a pool of creases. Pero offers his hands to help you to step out of the fabric pooling around your ankles - pulling your knuckles to his mouth in a tender kiss.

Strong arms guide you towards the awaiting bath, aiding your exhausted body into the water. Choosing a washcloth from the side, your husband wets and squirts a little body wash onto it before rubbing tender soapy circles all over your body. Once you’ve rinsed off, Pero selects one of the impossibly fluffy towels from the rack, holding it up to wrap around you as you step out. Hand in hand, he leads you to the glorious bed, patting the comforter for you to sit down.

“C’mon hermosa, let’s do that really sexy thing that we don’t get to do anymore.”

“Bringing it tonight aren’t you, viejo?” You grin at him from beneath your half-closed lids.

“Ah qué chica tonta oh what a silly girl. Sleep! I’m talking about sleep,” huffing as he hauls you into his chest, he folds his arms around you as you snuggle into the solid mass of him. Your eyes become heavy and every muscle starts to relax as you slowly drift off to sleep.

Safe, sleepy and satiated.

This was brought to you with an amazing beta from the beautiful @songsformonkeys

Thank you wonderful human 💐

Tag list of glory: @astroboots @silverwolf319 @sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @day-off-inkyoto @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @ezrasbirdie @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @honestly-shite @sharkbait77 @speakerforthedead0 @agirllovespancakes @songsformonkeys @adamdrivercouldchokeme @lv7867 @anxiousandboujee @kesskirata

As ever, I would be glad to add or remove you from the list.

If there are any other triggers that you’d like me to add, please let me know ❤️

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sohotthateveryonedied · 3 years

Note

so i’m trying to write duke and i don’t think i’m writing him right. how would you describe his personality because with don’t trust fanon lmfaooo

(this was only supposed to be a paragraph or two i swear to god)

1. first things first, duke is a hardcore gryffindor. don’t let the yellow color scheme mislead you, okay. and while most of the time he’s depicted in fanon as “omg this family is crazy and i’m the only sane one,” it’s actually pretty much the opposite? if anything, i think the other batkids would be like “oh finally, someone who can match our level of chaotic energy. HEY DUKE WANNA BUNGEE JUMP OFF WAYNE TOWER—” and an hour later they’d all be in the batcave getting lectured by bruce for leading poor sweet innocent duke astray when really he was already planning on doing that this weekend.

listen, this is the kid who once jumped off a bridge to escape police. this is the dude who decided to fight criminals while they’re still eating their wheaties at 6am in a bright yellow suit. and while duke seems to be the best at following bruce’s command at the moment due to having been trained by him most recently compared to the others and is still figuring out how to be a hero, i’m positive that if bruce weren’t here to guide him, duke would be running around gotham taking down criminals anyway. i mean, he literally did do that with the “we are robin” kids. plus there was the whole thing when he was like ten years old and decided “i am going to singlehandedly stop the riddler in my light up sketchers and pikachu backpack. try and stop me.”

duke is headstrong and has a strong drive toward heroism. he’s an extremely enthusiastic and passionate person in general, and i try to capture a little of that when i write him, even with mundane things like trying to beat his siblings to the last cupcake.

2. another thing i noticed is that duke swears like a sailor in comics? seriously, this boy could give jason a run for his money with how many “@#!%” speech bubbles there are. i don’t know if this is just a trend the writers added in the comics i’ve read of him, or if it’s a genuine trait throughout every comic he’s in, but that’s something to make note of when writing dialogue for duke. after all, he did grow up in the narrows, so it makes sense that he’d use a lot of swearing and slang in his everyday vernacular.

3. i would also make a point of noting that duke is fairly young compared to the rest of the batfamily, being the second youngest after damian. duke is still a teenager in high school, and he acts like it. he’s got homework and friends and is eager to make a difference in gotham, trying to juggle everything and make it all work somehow. he’s stubborn and doesn’t give up easily, so it’s important to write him as someone who is trying to save the world while also struggling with finding time to study for his next math test. he's human. he doesn’t get to dedicate all of his time to fighting crime like cass or jason might be able to, since duke is still a mostly normal teenager with teenager problems.

4. and don’t forget that unlike the other batkids, duke still has two living parents. sure, they’re jokerized and might not ever be the same again, but they’re alive and that’s what holds him back from letting himself get as close to the waynes as he wants to. duke won’t be calling bruce “dad” anytime soon, and i think he’d have some internal struggle over stuff like holidays and birthdays with the waynes, remembering what his parents are missing out on and wondering if joining the wayne family is a betrayal to them. duke is very conflicted over this, even if he doesn’t say it directly. stuff like ducking out of movie night early or feeling a bittersweet pang during thanksgiving dinner makes sense for someone in his situation.

(i usually ignore that aspect in my fics because i want duke to just be adopted and part of the family already, but not everyone does that, and that’s perfectly fine.)

5. honestly, duke is such a caring individual and we as a fandom need more of him being a shoulder for people to lean on because he’s?? so soft?? duke can be so sympathetic and rational when it comes to emotional problems. it seems like duke internalizes every bit of advice he gets from the people around him and uses it to inspire others and help them through their own problems. as tough and hotheaded as duke can sometimes be, he really is good when it comes to emotions.

6. duke is a smartass. he will 100% use sarcasm against any and every authority figure he meets, usually just for the hell of it.

7. he’s very frank in general, usually the first to be like “okay full disclosure, we’re about to die right now. that sucks. anyway—” in a situation. he’s honest and tends to be upfront about his fears/anxieties, usually for comic relief, but i think it still counts.

8. okay i have to add that duke is also kind of a punk? he and jason have a lot in common because of this: they both grew up in one of gotham’s worse areas (jay in crime alley and duke in the narrows) and they’re both highkey deliquents. duke has no problem getting into fights or talking back to authority figures, and it’s gotten him in hot water on more than one occasion. it’s why he kept getting moved around the foster system before bruce took him in because no one wanted to keep him.

9. he’s also gotten so close with the other batkids and we love to see it!! duke calls cass “sis” and treats damian like the annoying little brother he never had and i adore every second of it. we haven’t gotten a lot of interactions between duke and the others aside from training and stuff, but he and jason have the whole “punk kid who got adopted by batman and is baffled by how rich people live” going for them, so they can bond over that. and duke is a thinker like tim, so they can hang out and do puzzles or play chess or whatever it is that smart people do. (and duke and steph are BESTIES i don’t care what anyone says.)

10. most of all, duke is still learning how the whole hero thing works. he’s young and he’s trying his best, but he also makes mistakes. he will be impulsive and screw up, and he’ll try and merge the lessons batman’s taught him and that his parents taught him and that other heroes teach him until it all makes sense in his own mind. duke isn’t experienced like dick or even damian, so he’s going to be lagging behind for a while until he grows until the role he’s made for himself.

other miscellaneous details to include:

- duke is dating izzy, who used to be part of the “we are robin” gang with him - he used to live at the manor and now lives with his cousin jay, but honestly i just have him living at the manor in everything i write because i like it better that way - he can control shadows and light now! what a king! - duke secretly writes poetry and is good at creative writing in general - this:

- duke is super smart?? he figured out that agent 37 was dick grayson without even trying?? i’m so proud of him - his biological father is this supervillain called gnomon so now duke has got four parents: his mom, his dad, his supervillain dad, and bruce (plus selina if you count her as the batkids’ stepmom, which i do) - jason calls him “narrows” and i love that

- and, lastly, the most important panel in the history of comics:

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.”

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia x teen!reader #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #david rossi x reader #david rossi x teen!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader

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ellitx · 3 years

Text

Beguilement | Albedo x Reader

Klee asks for Albedo’s help to make bombs with her.

word count: 2.9k

“What are you doing?”

Albedo peered at you from the corner of his eyes, raising an eyebrow why you were holding his cheek. His work ceased when he felt your warm hand touched his face, bringing down the papers on the desk.

“What am I doing?” You echoed with a slight tilt of your head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. You’re overworking yourself again.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips.

“I’m not.”

He latched his gloved hand on yours and bring it down back to your side. “Hm…” Your [eye color] eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as you pout. Seeing the Chief Alchemist stuck in his research lab worried you. It’s been a while since you’ve last seen him and that’s why you’re here today.

He didn’t mind when you waltzed in suddenly while he was mixing different kinds of herbs. He knew you wouldn’t cause a ruckus inside considering how dangerous his and Sucrose’s works are.

“Klee really wanted to play with you, you know.” You started and took a sit on a nearby chair in his workshop.

“And so are you.” He placed back the various types of equipment to their rightful place and chuckled when he noticed your cheeks reddened.

“I—!”

“Albedo!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said male felt someone glomped onto his leg. He looked down and saw the Spark Knight wrapped her little arms on his leg so tightly, her ruby eyes scintillating so brightly that was donned with a big grin.

“I saw the sign wasn’t in your door anymore!! Does that mean you’ll play with Klee?!”

Albedo rested his hand on the top of her head but threw a confused glimpse at her. He’s a hundred percent sure last time he checked, the “Experiment in Progress” sign was still hanging to let everyone know he’s busy.

His aquamarine eyes landed on you who was innocently reading his notes, awing at his written discoveries and sketches of a place you've never seen before. His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, heaving a sigh. The Kreideprinz knelt down before Klee and ruffled her big red hat whose eyes were bright as the sun and smile so innocent.

“Yes. My research is almost done so might as well take a break.”

Your ears perked up at his words and lifted your head away from the notebook. “If that’s so, then I wanna make more bombs with you!!” The child tugged his lab coat and pulled him to the table, laying her hefty backpack on the chair.

She let out her collection of bombs to the Chief Alchemist and stretched her arms to showcase her invention. “Ta-da!! I tried to make a different Jumpty Dumpty!” Albedo placed his fingers on his chin as he inspected the object.

You peered over his shoulder and eyes glimmered admiring the cute little red bunny device. “Woah!! This one seems different from your usual Jumpty Dumpty, Klee!” You leaned against him to get a closer look.

The blonde child giggled but let out a yelp when she felt that her feet weren’t touching the ground. Her small hands were now laying on your shoulder as you carry her small stature in your arms.

The Alchemist’s focus was now on the timer hidden behind Jumpty Dumpty, surprising him. “It’s dangerous if we keep the bombs here. How about we go to Stormterror’s Lair to test it out?” His suggestion made the two girls looked at him with sparkling eyes and nodded eagerly.

You put down Klee and helped her pack her stuff back inside her backpack. Both of you were chanting happily making the corner of his lips tugged upwards at the adorable scene.

“Well then,” He said, taking their attention. “Let’s get going.”

Before Master Jean scolds us. He said to himself, sweat dropping.

Both of you threw your arms in the air to cheer. Before you head off, you hung the strap of Klee’s bag on your shoulder and patiently waited for her to come to your side. She clutched your hand a bit tightly but one that won’t hurt you.

Albedo took his own satchel and kept his notebook and some other materials needed in their experiment. He left a little note for Sucrose, letting her know he’ll be away for a while in case she goes looking for him.

Once he was ready, the two girls were already outside the room sticking around until he appears. Klee beamed in delight and grabbed his hand tugging both of you together. She was in the middle while you and Albedo were by her side.

She started humming joyfully and marched towards the exit.

“Klee, Albedo, [Name], and Dodoco are off to Stormterror’s Lair!!” You chuckled at her cute declaration whilst she swung both of yours and Albedo’s arms, sauntering to the old ruins to do the experiments.

—

“We can try using flaming flower stamen.”

“Oh, you mean those burning flowers?”

Albedo nodded as he tinkered with the Jumpty Dumpties, and letting out the contents carefully on the cloth.

“There are few scattered around here, so it’ll be no problem for us to find one.” He lifted up his goggles, placing them atop of his head.

“Oh! Klee knows all the locations!!” The said girl jumped from her sitting position, raising her hand like how a student wants to be called by their teacher. “There are few around the lair and some almost at the end!”

“Waaah!! That’s Klee for you!!” You praised her as you pat her head fondly. She giggled hearing your flattery and clasped your hand with hers. “I’ll go look with big sis [Name]!”

“Ah, wait—!” But before the Chalk Prince can stop them, both of you were already running carelessly in search of the flaming flowers. He sighed in defeat and continued tinkering with the gadgets.

Not even a minute later, he heard a loud KABOOM and the cries of the hilichurls in the distance. Several monsters flew in the air and slowly dropped onto the ground while some slimes were running for their lives.

Thank goodness your vision wasn’t Electro or else the elemental reactions between yours and Klee’s attacks will cause massive damage to the ancient city.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, his focus went back on dabbling with the bomb, pretending he wasn’t involved with their mischievousness.

—

“Oh! We should bring some bone samples for Sucrose for her research!” You exclaimed, watching the hilichurls’ bodies disintegrate in the thin air. You picked up the arrowheads and some horns from the ground left by the monsters.

“Klee will gladly help big sis!” Your shoulders shake with laughter and ruffled her hair. “And I’ll happily accept your offer~”

“I think she’ll accept anything as long as their bones, right? I did see some of her collections…” You muttered to yourself as you looked around the area to find anything interesting.

“Does fish blasting work as well to find bones?” Klee questioned innocently whilst holding her Jumpty Dumpties in her hands ready to throw them away. “No, Klee. Fish blasting is not good. If Master Jean caught us, you’ll be confined again!”

“B-but… I’m sorry… Please don’t get mad at Klee.” She clamped her hands behind her back, eyes cast downwards turning glossy. Your heartstrings tugged and felt like an arrow pierce right through you, immediately feeling guilty at your words.

“Ah… Klee, I’m not mad! I was… I was worried about you, that’s all.” You raised her and carried the little girl between your arms and nuzzled your noses together. Her ruby eyes brightened up and giggled, slithering her arms around your neck to hug closer.

“I can’t bring myself to get angry at you and Dodoco! I cherish both of you!”

“Is big sis [Name] saying she loves me and Dodoco?”

“Absolutely!” You puffed your chest like a proud mom and rested one hand on your hips.

“Klee and Dodoco love you too!!”

The two of you shared a few laughter and wholesome moment. From the corner of your eyes, a camp of hilichurls spotted you both, ready to attack. You shared a glance with the Spark Knight then smiled, sharing the same ideas.

“Hilichurl bones would be a good sample for Sucrose’s research!”

—

The Chief Alchemist was busy gathering glands from the frogs, carefully extracting the mucous from them. Others would be grossed out seeing this, but for him— it’s almost like an everyday habit for him to perform this.

He became inquisitive and wondered where you and Klee are. You were just going to gather a few flaming flower stamens, why are you taking so long?

Too distracted from his concern for your state as well as Klee’s, he didn’t notice a figure creeping behind him. Albedo’s perception then blackened and a shiver ran down his spine when he felt something blew on his ears and whispered.

“Guess who’s back?”

His fingers wrapped around your wrist and gently pulled down your hand back to your side. His eyes were met with your own [eye color] gems as you smiled down at him.

“You’re finally back.”

“Bzz! Wrong!” Your arms formed an X, indicating his incorrect answer. The Chief Alchemist snorted at your childish antics, failing to see the Pyro-vision user jumped on him.

“Albedo, Albedo!! We brought the flaming flowers! Oh, and we also got these!!” The child poured out all the contents inside her bag and showed them to him like she won the biggest prize. Various materials were scattered all over the ground; masks, horns, arrowheads, scrolls, and a bone…?

“So that’s why both of you haven’t come back for a while.” He observed the items gathered together and nodded to himself. He didn’t dare questioned them what and why were there cartilages included.

His eyes caught onto the flaming flower stamen. The cores were still emitting heat even though it was already extinguished. This can be a good time to create a flaming essential oil. The needed ingredients were already here, all he needed to do was to create it using alchemy.

Good thing they don’t need to come back to Mondstadt just to make a simple potion, as long as the Chief Alchemist is with you, he can create anything. He put out a portable alchemic table— one of his inventions— and commenced to perform his alchemy.

You and Klee watched him crushed the stamen until it turned to small particles. He then poured the extracted frog’s gland and mixed it together. The scent was odd and strong making you almost puke. How in the world can this man handle the smell?!

Klee almost looked like she was about to faint as she held on to your coat to maintain balance. Albedo apologized and told you you can take the mint grass inside his satchel to get rid of the smell.

Wow, he’s already prepared…

It brought a smile to your face at the thought of it. You rummaged inside his bag and saw the mints were kept inside the ziplock pouch. You motioned for the little girl to come with you, straying away from the Kreideprinz’s works as to not ruin it, and opened the pouch letting the cool smell waft around you.

You both breathed a sigh at the refreshing air, forgetting the awful smell that lingered inside you minutes ago. Albedo was already done making the essential oil and attentively spewed the liquid in one of Klee’s bombs.

A small smoke emitted from it and he cautiously set the cover back to its place.

“Is it done?” You asked. The male shook his head and threw the device at an empty area to see the result. He told you to stay back as he used his geo skill to cast a shield to all of you. A sound of a clock ticking can be heard from it and the three of you patiently waited for the outcome yet nothing happened.

“Did it fail…?” Your question was answered when you sensed the ground shook and a massive outburst greeted your view. Your mouth gaped open in shock and awe, watching many sparks flew in the air almost resembling fireworks during Ludi Harpastum Festival.

Klee was the one who’s more amazed than you, her eyes wide open and crimson orbs sparkling in admiration at the tremendous explosion.

“Waah!! Klee has never created a big kaboom like this in her entire life!!” She faced Albedo and tugged his coat repeatedly. “Can you please teach Klee how to make that? Please please please pleeease with a cherry on top?”

The male furrowed his brows, slightly troubled whether he should accept it or not. He was quiet for a while, still contemplating his decision. His eyes darted to where you were standing to ask for help but when he turned around, you were gone.

In his rear vision, he noticed you used your elemental skill to stamped out the burning grass. His face paled and heart raced when you knelt down and slowly approached the small remains from the bomb to touch it.

Albedo immediately dashed towards you and extended his arm to reach for you. He screamed your name so loudly surprising you. You felt your hand heating up and your instincts kicked in telling you to run away, but even if you do so, a bright light has already blinded your eyes and ears ringing from the loudness of the bomb’s blast.

—

“What are you doing?”

You peered at the male from the corner of your eyes, raising an eyebrow why he was holding your cheek. Your hands stopped midway from the plate when you felt his warm hand touched your face, bringing down the spoon on the table.

“What am I doing?” He echoed with a slight tilt of his head. “I’m checking if you’re okay. Your face is red again.” He sighed and took out a thermometer to check the reading.

“I’m not!”

You latched your hand on his and bring it down back to his side. “Hm…” His turquoise eyes had a tint of a doubtful frown as he sighed. For some reason, this brought a sense of deja vu to him.

Your behavior was odd after the explosion incident. You’ve been so cold towards him, making him slightly worried. He knows it was his fault that caused you like this, but he didn’t expect you’ve been so hostile to him these past few days.

It’s like a sudden switch of personality.

Every time he checks up on you, you just puffed your cheeks and turn your head. He asked the other Knights of Favonius about your condition and all they said was you were perfectly fine.

How is this perfectly fine?!

“[Name]!!” The door slammed open surprising the two teens. The said female felt someone jumped onto her bed, making her stomach hurt at the sudden weight. “Klee is so worried about big sis! When I heard you were sick, Dodoco and I were going to give you gifts! Klee thought you were fine yesterday. Diona even said she saw you going to the plaza—“

“A-Ah— you and Dodoco brought me gifts? That’s so sweet of you! Ahaha..” Your nervous chuckle made the Chief Alchemist raised his brow at you in suspicion. You were fidgeting underneath the bedsheets and avoiding not looking at him in the eye.

“Klee, what did Diona said about [Name]?” The girl’s attention went to him before she could rummage inside her bag. “She said that she saw big sis walking around the plaza!”

“K-Klee!!” Your face flushed even more than before. You were stammering so much and you felt like the world was spinning around.

Albedo wanted to confirm his suspicions, and so he kept on pushing questions at the little girl, ignoring your attempts to shush him.

“What kind of gifts are you going to give to her?”

His question quickly made you sat up and threw your pillow to his face. “Th-that’s none of your concern!! It’s something private okay?!”

“[Name] told me if I can give her the bombs you made to me. I tried to copy what you did and she seems satisfied with it!”

Your hands were flailing in the air, not knowing whether you should continue pressing the pillow on Albedo’s face or to cover your face in embarrassment. You didn’t want to clasp your hands on Klee’s mouth to silence her, she might get hurt from your sudden actions!

Bombs? What is she going to do with those?

He snapped out from his train of thoughts then eyed you conscientiously. His brain connected the pieces of information together. The heat from your body, the smell of the mint grasses, and a faint of ash from it made sense. Especially how your body temperature dropped all of a sudden.

He grabbed your wrist and intertwined your fingers together as he pressed his forehead with yours. The close proximity between you two made your head go blank and your attention was solely on his eyes, mesmerized by their colors.

Klee naively looked at you two with a curious gaze.

Your body heat skyrocketed and your lips quavered after his words reached your ears.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you wanted me to take care of you instead of putting an effort to do this.”

Your shoulders shook in aggravation and embarrassment, smothering him with the pillows to shut him up.

“I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you!!!”

Albedo just let your antics be, not bothered by the fact you’re slapping the pillow on him each word escaped from your lips.

His lips tugged upwards thinking he caught your trickeries once again.

reader was pretending she's sick just so he can take care of her lol

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin impact albedo x reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact fanfictions #reader insert #xreader #albedo #elliwrites #short oneshot #klee genshin impact #klee

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wormstacheangel · 2 years

Text

Winter Wonderland

wc: 2k inspo by @archervale art here <3

It was a last-minute decision, involving phone calls, new festive outfits, and using Charlie’s special card. It was a Christmas miracle to get everyone on the same page, but eventually, all the small details were settled, and the family was heading to Minnesota. A huge lakeside cabin was waiting just for them.

Just in time for Christmas.

Jody arrived at the cabin with Alex and Patience only a few hours after Dean parked his Baby in the garage. Donna should be coming tomorrow morning with Claire and Kaia since they all went vampire hunting together. While Sam and Eileen are already on a plane to spend a few days with them before heading back to Ireland.

“Take a look at this.” Dean nudged Jody to grab her attention, Alex quickly scooting close to peek at his phone. He holds it out for all of them to see the video Garth sent him to apologize for not being able to make it.

Happy screams of little Cas and Sam saying, ‘Uncle Dean! Dean!’ came from his phone before the camera focused on little Gertie explaining that the twins were teething, so they couldn’t make it for Christmas.

“I’m an uncle.” Dean proudly said while Jody patted his head, a soft smile on her lips.

“That you are. And I hear you’re a Dad now?” Jody asked while Alex faked gasping. Probably already knowing the news from Claire.

“Sort of. I guess.” Dean shrugged. “Cas is the Dad mostly. I’m just…happy to help.”

“Call it what you want,” Jody continued as Dean embarrassingly put his phone away. Knowing damn well, she saw his lock screen of sleeping Jack and Cas. “Helping raise someone makes you an important person in their lives.”

“Well, aren’t you an expert on that, Mom.” Alex hugged Jody from around the shoulders, both smiling as if they had an inside joke.

“I sure am.”

Dean watched as the two of them walked around the cabin together, already talking about getting dibs on the good rooms before Claire showed up.

His eyes then fell on Cas that sat on the living room floor, waving hello to their guest while covered in tinsel that Jack just wrapped him in. An image he never thought he would see. His best friend or boyfriend or soulmate, if they believe in that kind of bull—they don’t—happily laughing as Jody walked over to hug him. Picking up Jack in her arms to give them a big kiss while Alex helps untangle Cas from the huge mess.

Dean always felt like something was missing from his life. Feeling that hole in his chest ache just a little less when Cas was around—feeling it hurt and sting when he wasn’t—but now, having Cas the way he does, he doesn’t even remember how it felt to be lonely.

Now, he realized someone always loved him even when he didn’t feel he deserved it.

He wondered if Cas knew that feeling was reciprocated.

It’s only been a few months since Cas came back, and their relationship has grown into what it is now. New. Scary. Awesome.

Add to that the fact that Jack decided they wanted to look their age—shrinking down to the size of a four-year-old—and Sam moving to a whole different country for a bit really shook him to the core. But he’s okay.

He’s better than okay. He’s good. He’s so fan-freaking-tastic that he is actually celebrating Christmas for real just because he can.

And best of all, because he has a big freaking family to celebrate it with.

“Dean, can you help Patience with the rest of the stuff?” He heard Jody call after him while she busied herself wrapping tinsel around Jack. Alex and Cas hung ornaments on the little Nephilim, but he didn’t miss when his boyfriend turned to give him a heart-stopping wink.

That dork. He thought when he went back to the garage to help bring in the rest of the luggage, noticing Patience standing outside.

She was staring out into the still lake, looking just as frozen as the water was becoming. He swung a purple duffle over his shoulder and walked over to her, making enough crunching noise with the pebbles at his feet to not startle her before he stood at her side.

“Hey. How’s my favorite psychic?”

She didn’t jump or even look away from whatever point she was looking at. She did let out a small huff of a laugh through her nose, though—he’s taking that as a win—before she answered. “My grandma isn’t going to be happy to hear that.”

“I’m sure she’ll agree.”

She finally turned to look back at him, she looked calm, but Dean could see she was struggling with something. She was smiling, almost teasing.

“What?” He asked, but she shook her head in response. Turning around to head inside while Dean follows behind her. “You’re not gonna tell me? Was it a vision?”

“Nope. Just,” She stopped and looked at him, watching him with sincerity as she said, “The view down by the lake must look really nice when it’s snowing.”

Before he could comprehend what she was saying, even looking back to see the lake and afternoon sun glimmering behind them, she was called by Alex. Leaving him thinking it was nothing to worry about.

The view is pretty nice. So he thinks as he takes the last duffle inside and closes the garage door.

The rest of the day is spent decorating the house and getting ready for Christmas day tomorrow morning.

Holiday music played through the speakers as soon as they figured out how to use it, and Cas was quick to dress Jack for the occasion. They ran around in a gingerbread person onesie while Miracle followed their every little step.

“Aren’t you going to change?” Cas asked, sporting his own festive outfit. A thick light blue sweater with festive Christmas lights decorating it. “I left it in our bedroom whenever you are ready.”

Our bedroom. Maybe it’s just the holidays, but he really couldn’t help the emotion that hit him at that very moment. He leaned into Cas’s space, stealing a small kiss as a thank you. For having his sweater ready. For coming back. For loving him.

Cas, wide-eyed and dope-looking, never failed to make his heart race, especially when he looks back down to Dean’s lips and lets out a shaky breath he didn’t need to take.

“Okay.” Cas sighed before he looked back at Dean’s eyes. “Are you going to um, change?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right up.” Dean winked at him before continuing to help Alex and Jack put up the Christmas lights around the house.

The deal is not to decorate the Christmas tree until everyone arrives.

Later, dressed in the red sweater Jack picked out for him—it had a big light-up Christmas tree in the front— they were all in the kitchen baking cookies for a jolly old man they were all still not sure was real. It wasn’t until Jack’s blue eyes started to glow gold that the argument ended.

Can’t have the kid create a fat white man coming down people chimneys.

“Okay! We’re going to take Jack and Miracle for a walk while Dads here,” Jody winked at them. Already taking Jack into her arms. “Clean up the kitchen. Is that cool?”

“Yes!” “Yeah!” Dean and Cas say simultaneously, ignoring the laughing girls as they all head out the door. Then, with one last reminder to bundle up, the front door finally closed behind them, and they were alone.

Dean didn’t hesitate when he turned to grab Cas’s face and pull him in for a kiss. Both of them laughed and smiled as they did.

And maybe it was that moment in the messy rented-out kitchen, Cas jumping to sit on the counter and pull Dean to stand between his legs so they can continue to make out like two love sick teenagers', that Dean really decided on what his future will be.

And it had Cas in it.

It had his kid in it.

And it had his family being happy in a place where they could see the sunrise and sunset from out their windows.

“I love you.” Cas brushed against his lips. Kissing Dean’s cheek before kissing his lips again. Softer. As if every move of the lips was telling a story—the story about how an angel fell in love.

“I love you.” And the human that fell alongside him.

“Hey! We’re here! Dean?” They stopped mid-kiss when they heard the familiar voice coming from the living room. “Cas?”

Dean laughed when he felt Cas frown against his lips, but they went out to meet Sam and Eileen with one last peck.

It was the early hours of Christmas morning when Dean couldn't hold it in any longer. Waking up with Cas snoring right into his ear and his body draped across Dean's chest was the happiest he has woken up. It was crystal clear now what he had to do.

"Cas?" Dean turned his head to kiss him awake. Then, gently combing the mess of hair with his fingers while he coaxes his boyfriend awake. "Sweetheart, wake up. I got to ask you something important."

Cas opened one eye to peek at him and then squished his nose to Dean's cheek. Using his mojo to strengthen his octopus hug.

"It's dark outside. Shhhh."

"But I wanna do something."

"Too tired."

"No! Cas," Dean wiggles out of his grip just enough to grab Cas's face. Then, watching as his sleepy eyes turn more aware. "I love you. You listening?" He gave a silent nod, so Dean continued. "Good. Cause I wanted to tell you that I–that I love you and I think--no, I'm fucking positive that I want to marry you."

"I…What?" Cas watched his face, rereading it before his eyes started to water. "Really? Me?"

"Yeah, dumbass," Dean pressed their foreheads together as they both let tears fall. "You. I want to marry you. Fuck, I want to be married to you and love you for, well for fucking forever cause you don't die and I ain't leaving you so we'll figure some shit out, but for now," Dean kissed him, and Cas kissed back with just as much love. "Stay. With me."

"Yes!" Cas smiled as Dean rolled him into his back, kissing every inch of his face. "This is so...I love you. Dean, I love you so much."

They kissed for a little while on the bed before something caught his attention out the window.

“It’s snowing,” Dean whispers, watching the snow slowly fall from outside the large windows. Remember Patience's words from yesterday before chuckling. Understanding now. “The view by the lake.”

“What?”

Dean sat up, pushing the blankets off them. “Grab your coat!”

“Dean? Wait!”

They quickly got ready half haphazardly to go outside. Dean drags Cas to the lake to get the perfect view. It was breathtaking.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.” Dean digs into his pocket and grabs a ring he bought in a shop months ago. Always wondered if he was ready. If he even wanted this, but now he was sure. He never wanted anyone else. “You wanna be married to me?”

He holds out the ring and takes Cas’s hand. Watching as he studied every move Dean made with watery eyes. “As soon as possible. Yes.”

“Great.” Dean slipped the ring on and brought Cas in for a kiss. Slow and soft as they both tasted tears while the sun rose up from behind the house. Making the lake sparkle along with the falling snow. “We’re married now.”

“Hey!” They both turned towards the familiar voice coming from the house. “What are you two doing down there?”

It was Claire; they had just arrived just in time. Kaia waved back at them while Donna yelled out a “Good morning!”

Dean held Cas’s hand up. “We just got married!”

“What the fuck?” Claire blinked at them while Donna ran down in excitement. Bringing them both into a hug. While Claire still shockingly gasped, “Married?!”

Dean chuckled, already excited to see the rest of the family's reactions.

#fic #wormstachewrites #wayward sisters and team free will 2.0 #destiel #baby!jack #dinner didnt burn but the cookies sure did

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

So Live A Lie, Just Tonight, And Burn Out Bright

Batsis x Hal Jordan One-Shot

Word Count: 3.8K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes

Author's Note: I decided to compile that one Batsis "story" into one doc, and I added the alternate ending for the one anon who asked! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

“Alright, easy sis, easy,” he worried, watching her carefully for signs of pain flickering across her face as he helped her off the bike.

She scowled, managing to drag her injured leg forward. “Quit nagging. I’m—ngh—fine.”

“You’re on emergency oxycodone and you’ve got a broken femur,” he retorted. “I’m nagging until you’re in surgery.”

“Ugh, stop reminding me.”

Someone hauled her off her feet with a quiet, “I’ve got you.”

She grunted in pain laying on the gurney. “Thanks, dad.”

“Miss Wayne, are you alright?”

Her eyes found Alfred’s. “I’m good. I just ne—motherfucker!” she yelped, glaring at her father who was squeezing her thigh. “Hey! That’s broken, jackass! Quit!”

Bruce grunted. “You need an ORIF now.”

A pinch in her arm made her twitch and she turned her attention to Alfred who was uncapping a needle. “Alfred, what’s that?”

He shook his head. “Nothing to worry about, Miss Wayne.” Smiling, he stuck the needle into the line. “You’ll feel better when you awaken.”

Her vision blurred rapidly, “Gonna take…a nap…now…” her head lolled, and Bruce met Alfred’s gaze.

“Call Damian. He’s got the steady hand we’ll need.”

***

“How’re you feeling?” Jason asked, setting a cup of juice on the bedside table.

She blinked slowly, staring at her fingers. “Why are my fingers like this?”

“Like what, Queenie?”

“Bendy,” she replied, flexing her fingers. “It’s fuckin’ weird.” She looked at him. “I feel weird.”

He snorted, nodding at Dick and the others who were walking in at the sound of her voice. “You’re on hydromorphone, sis.”

“Hydro—what-what?”

“Hydromorphone, sister,” Damian said. “It has increased your threshold for pain and reduced the perception of it.”

She stared at him like she hadn’t heard a word come out of his mouth. “I didn’t understand a single goddamn word that you just said.”

Snickers sounded around her, but her head was up in the clouds and she rested back against her pillow. Her family gathered around her, sitting up on the bed, and suddenly she cocked her head up, squinting at each of them.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Bruce inquired.

“Where’s Dick?”

“I’m right here, sis,” he answered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “What’s up?”

“Why’d you break up with Kori?”

His eyes widened. “I—what?”

“Kori. Tall alien with the shooty-hands.”

“I know who she is. What about our breakup?”

“Are you kidding me? That woman is spectacular, and you broke up with her. She’s gorgeous, wicked intelligent, fantastic in bed and—”

“Wait, back up there,�� he interrupted. “Good in bed? Did you sleep with, Kori?”

“Oh yeah, totally. I was her rebound after you.”

Dick blinked while the others cackled. “Have you…have you slept with any other exes?”

“Of yours? Or in general with the family’s exes?”

“Wait,” Jason said. “Have you slept with any of mine?”

“Did you date Artemis?”

He shrugged. “Sort of?”

“Then, yes.” She looked at Bruce. “I slept with Selina too, but to be completely honest we were both drunk and I don’t think either of us remember.”

“I uh—” he started, then quieted. “I didn’t know you were gay, sweetheart.”

She let out a ‘pfft’. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you’re bi, then?” Dick smiled and she shook her head.

“Nah, I like the wine but not the label.” She grinned. “I’m a lover of people.”

“How many superheroes have you slept with?” Tim questioned and she pursed her lips.

“Uh…I dunno…kinda lost count.”

For a moment no one said a word, then Jason asked, “You know how we call Dickhead the fuck-boy? Can we refer to you as that now? I think you’ve topped his count.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare and she pointed at him, though she was seeing double, so it was entirely possible that she was pointing at the wall. “Keep that up and I’ll sleep with your best friend again.”

“You slept with Roy?!”

“I was talking about Kyle, but Roy works too.”

“OH MY GOD! IS THERE ANYONE YOU HAVEN’T SLEPT WITH?”

She thought for a moment, then offered, “Diana. But I asked her out last weekend so it’s up in the air until our date.”

***Part Two***

There was only one rule that everyone collectively followed in Wayne Manor and that was: no excessive noise until after twelve P.M. It was mostly influenced by Alfred who’d more than once pulled out the shotgun but surprisingly, mornings were usually calm and quiet. Keywords: “Were” and “Usually”. There were some special cases.

An ear-splitting scream shattered the silence of the breakfast room and in an instant, everyone was jumping from the table, sprinting towards the staircase to find out what was quite possibly murdering their eldest sister. As they neared the staircase, they came face to face with her as she stood behind the banister, her hands gripping the railing until her knuckles started whitening.

“Sis, what’s wrong?” Dick worried, already starting to come up the steps, Jason and Tim close behind.

“I’m late,” she whispered, and they leaned forward.

“What was that?” Bruce inquired, brows furrowing, and she looked at him.

“I’m late.” Her voice was firmer this time.

He blinked. “How long?”

“Two months.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Jason questioned, shaking his head and she scowled.

“My period’s late, jackass.”

She wished she’d taken a photo of their faces, because nothing would ever amuse her as much as the way their jaws went slack, eyes widening in total shock. Running a hand down her face, she groaned, “Oh my God. I knew something was up. I completely forgot about it.”

“Sooooo…” Tim drawled out with a recovered grin. “Who’s the daddy?”

Her eyes narrowed and she shot him a glare. “Shut. Up.”

“C’mon sis, someone—some guy did it for you.” Jason quipped. “Who’s the lucky man?” he paused, seeming to remember something. “How many superheroes have you slept with in two months? That have dicks, of course.” She clenched her jaw and his eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh no…is it, Roy?”

“It’s not Roy!” she hissed.

“Kyle?” Dick offered and she shook her head.

“No. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past two months.”

“Who was it sister?” Damian quizzed, placing his hands on his hips. “I have yet to meet anyone acceptable for you to populate with.”

“Thanks Damian,” she griped, then groaned. “Oh God, I know who it is too. And I wish I didn’t.”

“Why’s that?”

Her eyes found Tim’s. “Because we were drunk as hell after a League mission.”

“Who is it?” Bruce grunted and she met his gaze.

“You’re not going to like it.”

Something passed between them, and his eyes narrowed. “Please don’t say that’s who you slept with.”

She nodded, pressing a hand to her face, hiding her embarrassment. “Mhm.”

“You slept with him?”

“Unfortunately.”

Jason looked between his sister and father. “Wait, I’m confused. What’s going on?” A snort sounded beside him, and he looked over, seeing Dick in tears. “Why are you crying? What’s so funny?”

Dick cackled. “SHE SLEPT WITH HAL JORDAN!”

Another round of slack jawed brothers appeared in her sight, and she hissed. “It was an accident!”

“YOU’RE HAVING A BABY WITH HAL JORDAN!” Dick gasped, starting to drop to his knees from laughing so hard. “OH MY GOD, YOU SLEPT WITH THE GUY DAD HATES THE MOST!”

“You slept with Hal Jordan?” Tim gagged. “Ew.”

“Sister, I am disgusted in your choice of partners for children.” Damian noted and she scowled.

“I hate all of you.” she looked at Bruce.

He sighed heavily, a defeated father…or maybe a defeated grandfather. “I’ll go call Hal…and order prenatal vitamins.”

She ran a hand down her face. “I’ll call Leslie and get in for an exam.”

“Holy shit,” Jason gasped. “We’re gonna be uncles!”

***Part Three***

He shifted the phone to rest between his ear and shoulder, hands busy pouring coffee into his cup. “Hello?”

What are you doing right now?

“Bruce? Is that you?”

Answer the question, Hal.

He rolled his eyes and frowned. “Well, it’s nine A.M., I’m making a cup of coffee. I know bats are nocturnal, so this might come as a surprise to someone like you, but rest assured it’s a normal habit for us normal folks.”

How fast can you get to Gotham City?

“Willingly?” Hal chuckled, setting down the coffee pot to grab the phone. “What’s going on?”

I need your…help…with something. And I need you in Gotham as fast as you can get here…please.

He almost dropped both the phone and coffee mug. “Did you just say you need my he—” the line went dead with a click, and he pulled the phone from his ear. “Asshole,” Hal scowled and shoved the phone in his pocket, before putting the mug down. His body flashed green as he suited up and he sighed. “Can’t believe I gotta go to the land of the living dead at nine A.M.”

***

He rubbed his temples as he disconnected the call, barely suppressing the sigh that wanted to escape him. “Are you mad at me?” he heard behind him, low, scared, and worried; he shook his head.

“No.”

She leaned against the desk, staring down at the side of his head. “Are you disappointed in me?”

Bruce sighed this time. “At your basic lack of common sense and sleeping with a team member despite the fact that I’ve told you time and again that inner-team-dalliances only end badly? Yes.” He turned his eyes to her. “But for being pregnant? Never.”

“Doesn’t seem like it, dad,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest; he watched them lower to hold her stomach.

“I think Hal Jordan’s an idiot,” he stated. “If it seems like I’m upset, it’s because he’s going to be my grandchild’s father and I’ll have to be nice to him now.” She huffed a laugh and he reached over, placing a hand on her arm. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We’ll take care of this.”

“I know, it’s just…” she sighed. “I never expected this to happen.”

“No one ever does,” Bruce answered. “Have you contacted Leslie yet?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go see her around three.” Grunting, she muttered, “Figured if Hal got here in as soon as possible, we’d have enough time to sit and talk about this before we went.” She ran a hand over her face. “God, I can’t believe I Hal knocked me up.”

“Please don’t say that,” Bruce griped. “I don’t like that phrase.”

“But that’s what happened, dad. I got knocked up by Hal.”

“Why do you hate me?” he scowled, dropping his head into his hands. “How did this even happen?”

Sighing, she recounted, “After the mission in Brazil, Hal invited Barry back to Coast City for a drink and Barry invited me.” She shrugged. “I didn’t wanna be rude even if I am typically antisocial, so I accepted, and we got there and found a bar. After a couple hours, Barry had to get back to Central and we just decided to keep drinking.”

She grunted. “Hell, by seven thirty we were already gone so we got a ride back to his place and he offered to let me stay the night and one thing led to another and—”

Bruce raised his hand, effectively silencing her. “I can infer what happened after that.” He rubbed his temples. “Let’s just wait for Hal to get here, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, falling silent.

***

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jordan, is here, sir.” They both looked up from the Batcomputer at the test pilot.

“Thank you, Alfred,” Bruce said, and the butler nodded, ascending the steps.

Hal walked towards them. “So, what’s the deal? Why do you need me?”

Bruce looked at her and she sighed. “Actually, I’m the one who needed you to come here, Hal.”

His brown eyes darted to hers, a flash, a recognition of something and he nodded. “Aright. What’s up?”

“Dad…give us a moment?” he nodded and stood from the Batcomputer, walking to the medical section on the other side of the cave. She waved Hal over. “You might wanna sit down.”

He did, albeit suspiciously. “Why are you acting so…weird?”

“Hal,” she said, then looked at her hands. “I’m…ah crap.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, brows furrowing.

She took a deep breath and admitted, “My period’s late and there’s a good chance I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, Hal didn’t say a word, then he burst into laughter. “Oh, that’s hilarious!” he held his stomach and wiped his eyes. “That’s a good one.”

“I’m not joking, Hal,” she spat. “In the last three months, you’re the only man I’ve had sex with. If I’m pregnant, you’re the father.”

He stopped laughing at that. “Are you being serious?”

“Dead.”

Hal ran a hand through his brown hair and let out a shocked breath. “Holy hell.” She watched him and he gaped at her. “W-what…what do we do?”

“I’ve got an appointment with Doctor Leslie at four. You’re welcome to come along if you’d like.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.” Swallowing thickly, he said, “Does he know?”

“Dad? Yeah. They all do.”

“They?” he repeated, eyes wide.

“My brothers.”

“You told them we slept together?”

She chuckled. “Apparently a year ago under heavy meds, I admitted I slept with Dad, Dick, and Jason’s exes.” She shrugged. “There’s not much I keep from them.”

Hal’s eyes shifted to Bruce’s back. “Can’t imagine the Big-Bat is happy about this.”

“Oh, he’s not. He thinks you’re an idiot, but judging by the look on your face, you already know that.”

He scoffed. “Your dad likes to think he’s smarter than everyone else.”

She cocked a brow. “He is.”

“And it seems like you’re following that strain well,” he shot back, and they glared at each other before cracking smiles.

“If this is real, we’re going to be some parents, huh?”

Hal could sense the fear in her voice, and he stood in front of her, placing his hands on her hips. “Hey,” he murmured. “No parents are perfect. And we’re sure as hell not.”

“If this is supposed to cheer me up, it’s not.”

“I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m trying to reassure you,” he corrected, squeezing her hips lightly. “We’ll work through this, and we’ll do it together.”

She gazed at him then heaved a sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Thanks Hal.”

“Don’t mention it,” he chuckled, then murmured, “But if we really are going to be parents, should we tie the knot?”

“Absolutely not.”

***

“Hal, for the love of God, will you sit down?” she griped. “You’re starting to make me anxious with all that pacing.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before shrugging off his bomber. “I can’t help it,” he retorted. “I hate waiting.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” She rolled her eyes. “Leslie’s working as fast as she can. Just sit down and be patient.”

Hal paced for another minute before collapsing into the seat beside her; she took his hand in hers and rubbed her thumb on the back of his hand. “What are you doing?” he asked, and she hummed.

“Comforting you.”

“Why?”

She looked at him. “Because you’re worried.”

“How are you not?”

“I am,” she commented, and he scowled.

“You don’t look it.”

“Well, that’s because I was trained to retain my emotions a as child,” she retorted. “It helps when I’m dealing with children who are scared.”

“I’m not a child,” Hal hissed, and she snorted.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“You know what? I’m gonna—”

The door opened and their mouths snapped shut as Leslie walked in with a smile. “Good afternoon.”

“Hey Leslie,” she greeted, then glanced at the papers in her hand. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Leslie handed her the file and she looked it over. “Case of irregular period, dear.”

She blinked and said dumbly, “I’m not pregnant?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Our bodies act up sometimes, even when we’re grown. Irregularities can still happen even now.” Clearing her throat, Leslie added, “But your blood and urinalysis came back negative. You’re not pregnant.” She looked between Hal and her. “With the results, you’re free to leave.”

She stood to her feet, but when Hal didn’t, she tugged his hand. “Hal,” she whispered. “Come on.”

He staggered to his feet. “Yeah, I’m coming.” He disappeared out of the clinic room, and she sighed, then looked at Leslie.

“Thanks doc.”

“Of course.”

***

They were quiet on the park bench, watching the sun reflect off the water and listening to the birds singing in the sky. “So…I guess that’s a relief,” Hal stated, and she nodded.

“Yeah. I guess it is.” Laughing, she said, “I mean could you imagine if I were actually carrying your kid?” when he didn’t laugh, she looked over at him. “Hal?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, couldn’t imagine it.”

“Hal,” she plead. “Are you upset that I’m not?”

“What? No. No, I’m relieved you’re not pregnant, but…” he sighed and shrugged. “I dunno at the same time as scared as I was, I was happy, you know? Ready to step up and be there for you.”

She lowered her gaze to his hands and reached over, placing hers over his and he took it, squeezing. “Well, look at it this way. This was the universe telling you that you’re ready to be a father and this was the universe telling me that I’m not ready to be a mom or your baby’s mother.”

Hal gazed at her for a moment then chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He squeezed her hand again and climbed to his feet, flashing green as his suit appeared. “Now that everything’s sorted out, I should be getting back to Coast City.”

“Sounds good,” she agreed, standing to her feet.

“Can I drop you off anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m gonna walk around for a bit,” she said.

Hal took to the sky then looked down at her. “If you ever find yourself ready…call me?”

A shocked laugh bubbled in her chest, and she shook her head. “Not a chance in hell, Jordan.”

“Come on, don’t you think it would be fun to have the old Bat call me his son in law?”

Giggling, she waved him off. “Get out of here, Hal.”

Winking, he replied, “See you later, babe.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle and watch him leave, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous.” But a small smile was still on her lips as she headed down the street.

***Alternate Ending***

She gazed numbly out at the water, not sure if she should feel surprise or shock, but whatever emotion she was feeling had completely dumbfounded her. She was pregnant. Her hands had unconsciously pressed tight to her stomach, and she felt sick more than anything. Sick, scared, ashamed, every emotion that came with sleeping with a coworker—and every TV show and movie where the woman got pregnant from the affair.

How was she going to explain this to her family? To her friends? How was she going to face their scrutiny? Pregnant out of wedlock? With the biggest skirt-chasing, arrogant asshole in the galaxy? She’d take the brunt of their scathing opinions. He’d get off scot-free. He’d—

“(Y/N).” Someone’s hand rested on her shoulder, and she blinked, suddenly brought from her stupor and she looked over at him; his gaze was full of worry. “Are you okay?”

Instantly, she felt angry, and she jerked away from him, standing to her feet. “Am I okay!” she shouted. “You got me pregnant! Do you have any idea what this is going to do to us! To our reputations! To mine!”

Irritation etched across his face, and he stood to his feet, getting in her face. “It takes two to tango, (Y/N). We both did this—not just me.”

Her mouth opened to retort sharply, but damned if he didn’t have a point and she shut her mouth, tasting something bitter as she looked away. “I’m going home.”

She turned and his hand shot out, grabbing hold of her arm. “Wait, I don’t want you going alone.”

“Let go of me.” She hissed, trying to pull away, but he tightened his grip.

“No. It’s too dangerous for you to be out alone.”

(Y/N) scoffed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re talking to Jordan. I’m—”

“The mother of my child.” Hal declared and she gaped at him. “I know what you and your family think of me. I know you think I’m an arrogant asshole and yeah, I’ll admit that I am.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “But if you think for a second, I’m going to let you wander around this bat-shit crazy city alone while pregnant, then you’re the one who’s being arrogant.”

He searched her gaze. “I’m many things, (Y/N). But I’m not going to abandon you or shy away from whatever this is.”

She swallowed thickly. “What do you mean ‘whatever this is’? Parents?”

“Us.” Hal said. “Maybe it’s just my big head, but I see the way you look at me. Yeah, I annoy the hell out of you, but you care for me.” He reached up, cupping her cheek. “And I care about you too. More than just what teammates should for one another.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, because he did have a point. Hal was an annoying prick who at many times provoked her into physical confrontation, but on the other hand, there was nothing she loved more than fighting with him, because she knew he found it just as amusing.

Her gaze lowered and she felt tears well in her eyes. “I’m scared, Hal.”

“I know. I am too,” he murmured. “But we’re going to get through this.” He tipped her head up, catching her eyes once more. “We will get through this. Together.”

(Y/N)’s lips wobbled, and she tried for a lighthearted comment. “Isn’t fraternization against the rules?”

Hal grinned. “Only in the military.” He winked. “Last time I checked—we’re not in it.”

She laughed, leaning forward, and pressed her forehead to his. “How’s everyone going to react to this?”

He shrugged. “Probably with shock. I mean about me getting a girl pregnant? Not likely. Getting you pregnant? More likely.”

“Shut up.”

“I think we should consider getting married though.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

Hal looked at her. “(Y/N), we should think about getting married. I mean, we’re gonna have a kid together. Might as well tie the knot while we’re at it.”

She merely blinked and spun, walking off. “Nope. Not happening. I’ll be your baby-mama, but I am not marrying you.”

“Hey! Wait up!”

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there. So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it. Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea. I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George. I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers. When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell. Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall. Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it. The sound of a young girl crying. I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair. The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek. “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n). Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand. She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground. I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse. I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister. I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck. “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad. I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back. That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her. She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment. I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed. “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through. Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort. Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying. “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said. Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me. Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave. I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent. I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her. She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile. She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs. I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this. I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express. As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes. He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making. By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news. After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me. She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him. (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James. She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back. “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it. The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

#harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter x reader #harry potter x child reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter fluff #harry potter and the deathly hallows #ron weasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #fred weasley rip #george weasley #harry potter x ginny weasley

191 notes · View notes

5csbin · 3 years

Text

MY bully !!!

genre; smut | bully!sicheng x bullied!reader

wording; 2.2k

warnings; sadist sicheng, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, bulge kink, slight marking, bruises (?)

you don’t understand why your bully, dong sicheng would go so far to bully you. he would always make fun of you, pinch you, pull on your hair, make you trip or pour some sorts of liquid in your hair.

it seemed like he enjoyed seeing you hurt, his eyes would always twinkle every time he saw you tearing up.

you’ve tried telling principals and counselors about your issue with sicheng before but they couldn’t believe you. “sweet dong sicheng bullying? are you sure?” they’ll always say something alike those lines.

no one knew about you being bullied, his friends had no clue and you had no one to talk to, your parents were rarely home and when they were they were sleeping. you were just alone.

and here you were, in his house on the floor of his room sheilding yourself from him. you two were grouped as partners for a project, but you knew once he willingly wanted to be your partner it would be bad.

other students and your teacher thought it was nice of him to wanting to be partnered with the quiet girl but you knew once you’re both alone it would be hell.

“i said stand up!” he yelled raising his voice towering over you. his jaw clenched and fist tightened like he would beat you up harder if you don’t do what he says.

slowly standing up to your feet you backed away hitting the wall. your uniform messed up, a few buttons ripped out of your blouse almost showing your bra, your shoes lost somewhere in his house and hair messed up.

you cried silently, “p-please sicheng stop!” you screamed, hoping your please would stop him. knowing him, it just made him more of a sadist.

“why? so you could go back to being a fat slut in school?” he got closer to you and pulled your hair, a loud shriek coming out of your lips. “who the fuck is going to put you in your place but me?!”

“please stop! i’ll do anything you want! please..” you cried in his face as your scalp continues to sting. “anything?” he asked, his voice going deeper then it usually is.

“yes!” his grip he had on your hair fell, the sting becoming less stingy. you thought this was it. ‘no more bullying for me..’ you thought thinking you were victorious.

“take your shirt off.” he demanded. “what?” you thought you must’ve been hearing things. “i’ll just do it for you, you’re so disobedient.”

even if he was already close to you, he came closer. his hands going up to your blouse to unbutton your shirt. “s-sicheng what are you doing..” you asked slapping his hand away from your shirt.

it wasn’t a good idea to do that since you saw his hand raise up and a huge sting went to the side of your face, he had slapped you. it’s not like he hasn’t done it before but it would always have you shocked every time he did it.

“do you want me to go back to beating you up?!” he screamed in your face. you shook your head as a couple of tears began to fall off your face.

“then shut up!” he yelled. his hand went back to your shirt, roaming his hands down your waist and back up. a small tingle came from between your thighs, wishing you actually weren’t turned on by your bully.

“besides, you said you’ll do anything i want.” he mumbled before attaching his lips to yours, not even giving you a second to think.

you stood there thinking if you should kiss back or not, you jerked up once sicheng pinched your stomach and groaned, giving you the sign to kiss him back.

you hesitated for a bit but once sicheng growled again you decided to not make it worse already. you moved your lips against his, a moan falling out of mouth, and his hands trailing to the buttons of your shirt.

he was slow kissing you, with every button he unbuttoned you could feel the the cold temperature touch you. his lips now moved to your neck, sucking and licking your neck till he found your sweet spot.

your shirt was already unbuttoned all the way down and his hands roamed your soft hips again. “oh my god..” you moaned throwing your head back one sicheng sucked down on a part of your neck.

“you like that?” his deep voice driving you crazy. you nodded your head, small gasps leaving your mouth after he sucked into your skin harder.

“so good!” you whined. one of his hands trailed down your your thigh and you already know what he was going to do. his hands made its way towards your inner thigh and you couldn’t help but anticipate.

“let’s check how needy you are.” he bent down on his knees and made you spreed your legs. he could see bruises from where he would hit you and it made the boner in his pants grown. “pretty..” he trailed his hand along your bruises.

his hands pushed your skirt down leaving you in your white panties, a wet patch marked on it. moving your panties to the side he stuck a finger between your folds making you let out another moan as he touched you.

he pulled his finger back out and watched him as he moved his finger towards his mouth and sucked it dry. “so fucking wet.” he got back up and pulled you to lay on his bed.

“take your bra off.” he demanded as he began to take his pants off, you followed in suit.

he only took his pants off and only let of his white blouse and boxers on, his big dick print showing. “dirty fucking girl.” his hands went back to your panties moving them to the side.

“you got the prettiest pussy i’ve seen.” his eyes glued to your bare wet pussy. his finger sliding up and down on your folds making you arch your back and let out gasps.

he stopped moving for a bit but before you could ask what happened a slight pain in your lower area hit. “so tight around my finger..” he began to pump his finger in a fast paste.

a smirk forming on his lips, “tell me have you masterbated before?” you shook your head no. “really? so you’re a virgin? right (y/n)?” “yes!”

you yelled as tears formed in your eyes, the feeling of being stretch out hurt you, but you knew sicheng was enjoying this. “it hurts!” you whined closing your legs shut.

“if you can’t even take one imagine my dick.” he spread your legs and took out his finger feeling nothing in your hole, till he pushed his finger back again adding a second finger.

a loud moan left your lips with other moans following behind. his two fingers pumping inside of you in a fast pase while stretching you.

“si-sicheng oh my god.” you gasped barely able to make out words. his long slender fingers going in and out of you making your legs tremble, feeling a sort of urge to pee in your lower area.

“im about to come!” you yelled and just when you were about to release he took his fingers out. you looked back at him raising your head from the mattress.

“huh?” you saw him lick your juice off his finger. a ‘hmm’ leaving his mouth. “taste so sweet.” he crawled on top of you and kissed you again, this time prepared to kiss him back.

tasting your own juice on his lips, his lips trailing kissed all the way to your thighs. “i’ll save this for another day.” he gave your pussy a peck before standing up and freeing his dick from his boxers.

his dick was huge, it was both long and thick with veins, his tip shaded with a pink color, it was the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen and couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth one day.

he jerked off a bit before he put his member near your clit and started going up and down. “wait— are you not going to put on a condom?”

“no.” you widen your eyes, he looked up from your pussy to see you stare at him shocked.“sluts like you don’t deserve shit, if i come inside you, you’re gonna take it like a good girl, you understand?”

your nodded your head shamelessly before your head fell back down on the mattress, letting out small gasp.

his cock teasing your entrance before slipping in inside you, you winced in pain and cried out. his tip was only inside you and it was making you feel like your insides were ripping.

“fuck, i should’ve used you sooner.” sicheng groaned before pushing all the way in and bottoming out. “ah!” you yelled in pain as tears started to fall out.

“shit.” he groaned. his eyes moved from your pussy to your face- eyes watery and your nose slightly red. his eyes lowering to your breast, they were a perfect size and he could wait to fuck you to see them bouce. his eyes going down to your stomach where his dick print was showing.

all things just made reasons for him to continue to fuck you.

his pulled out before slamming back in, repeating the movement faster every time making you clench around him. “hngg!” you cried as more tears ran down your face.

“so fucking good, am i fuking you nice slut?” he murmured keeping his eyes on your face. “it- it hurts!” you whined clenching harder than before.

“shh, you’ll feel nice in a second.” he ushered bringing one of your leg up to his shoulder hitting you deeper into your belly. the new position making you scream out, the neighbors probably heard you already.

‘hnng’ you moaned as the feeling of being stretch out faded. “fuck.” you mumbled closing your eyes feeling pure pleasure.

“sich don’t stop.” you help onto his hand. “whatever you say slut.” his thrust became faster in a inhuman pase. “do you see me in your stomach?” his hand made its way to your stomach seeing how his cock would make a pump in your stomach.

“yeah.. it feels so good.” a tear fell off your face, it was too good. the fact that your bully was fucking you so hard and rough almost felt like a dream.

you clenched around him tighter making him gasp of the feeling of your walls close around him. “i-i think im close.” your grip on his hand tightened.

“hold on im almost close.” his tip began ramming in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every movement.

you yelped, “sicheng!” your legs shook violently around him, his breathing becoming ragged and a few curses in mandarin leaving his mouth.

“come (y/n).” he groaned before ramming back into you. sicheng grabbed onto your hips, digging his nails into your hips, surely leaving marks.

with a final thrust, you let out a loud moan clenching around him before releasing. your vision going white as you came.

sicheng followed behind you, spilling his seed into your hole, he groaned, his cock becoming soft inside you. he slowly pushed in and out of your trying to not hurt you while pulling out.

a trail of his come mixed with yours and a bit of blood spilled from you, messing up his sheets but you were sure he didn’t care about that.

sicheng pulled his boxers back up, walked out of his room and came back with something to clean you up. he pulled your panties back up and put your skirt back on while you just laid there.

he made you stand up from the bed and pulled your bra and shirt back on. his eyes stayed on your neck for a bit, looking at the purple hickies he had marked on you.

“hope you know you’re mine now bitch.” he mumbled before kissing your neck once more. “y-yes sicheng.”

he pulled you up from his bed and dragged you to the front door, where he’ll just let you walk by yourself.

“buy yourself some pills and don’t come to school with underwear tomorrow or else i’ll leave you with a broker wrist.” he opened the door and kicked you outside his house.

“yes sicheng!” you walked out of the house with your legs wobbly from sex. you thought he would just slam the door in your face but he walked closer to you and pecked your lips once more.

a deep shade of red showing on your face. “yeah now go!” he yelled again in your face before walking back in and slamming the door.

thankfully your house wasn’t that far from his but it was still hard to walk. you got home took a shower, ate, went to the closest pharmacy and went to sleep.

sicheng on the other hand layed on his bed with fresh new sheets thinking of what he’ll do to you if you made him mad again, usually he’ll jack off at this time while thinking of you crying or bring bruised, but he wasn’t feeling it today.

his eyes wandered his room to see your backpack was still there, a smirk fell on his face knowing he’ll probably use this as a excuse to return this to your house in the morning and fuck you in the living room before school.

or maybe in the school stalls you could suck him off to get your backpack back.

who knows what will happened after this.

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wandanatfluff · 3 years

Text

A dream come true

Short series Fluff

This is part of a series. I highly recommend reading Seven words first.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha and Y/n go and visit Melina, Yelena and Alexei, Natasha’s parents and sister. Something unexpected happens. (This takes place about 7,5 months after Seven words, meaning the reader is now about 8,5 months pregnant.) No spoilers!

Warnings: Description of giving birth (nothing bloody or too detailed though)

Word count: 2.2 K

A/n: Part two!

Natasha parks the car on the small farm and you let out a heavy sigh as you feel the baby kick, earning you a worried look from your wife.

“You sure you feel good enough?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine, just a firm kick.”

You give Natasha a reassuring smile, allowing her to relax a bit. You move your hand to the doorhandle and open it, you wait for your wife to round the car, so she can help you to get out of the car. You’re almost nine months pregnant by now, which means your bump has grown quite big. Natasha holds her arm around your waist as the two of you walk to the door. Melina immediately answers the door, before Natasha could even ring the doorbell.

“If that isn’t my favorite daughter in law!”

“Привет. Как поживает моя любимая свекровь” (Hello. How is my favorite mother-in-law doing?) You say to Melina in your best Russian. “Ну, кто-то практиковал свой русский.” (Well, someone has been practicing their Russian.)

“Yeah, I got kinda sick of doing nothing. Natasha didn’t even let me walk to the grocery store.”

“Ho, stop. Don’t go there, I was just following the doctor’s orders.” Natasha says as the two of you enter the house.

“I know baby. I’m sorry.” You say, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Natasha takes your coat off your shoulders and hangs it on a hook. You smile at her. You suddenly get a little light headed, reaching for Natasha’s arms. She holds on to you tight, letting you lean on her until you’re feeling well again.

“You guys can sit on the couch. I’ll get you something to drink.” Melina walks to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water. Natasha sits down sideways on the couch with her legs slightly apart, so you can sit between them, opening her arms. Gratefully you rest your back against her front. You take the glass of water Melina hands you and take a few sips, before handing it to Natasha, who puts it on the side table.

“Sorry about back there. I am really thankful for everything you do. I know I have been quite the pain in the ass lately.”

“What? No baby, you’re no pain in my ass. I love taking care of you, especially when you’re nauseous, sick and throwing up all over my new clothes… It’s cute.” Natasha says with a playful smirk on her face.

“Come on Tash, really? I’ve told you I’m sorry a hundred times.” You whine, putting your head in your neck, so you can see Natasha. She gives you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“I guess you’ll just have to buy me a new one.” She chuckles, giving you another kiss. You move your eyes forward again, letting your head rest on Natasha’s chest as you close your eyes.

You begin to doze off, when a loud voice startles you awake. You quickly sit up straight, the action causing you to collide with Natasha’s chin, which was resting on your head. After you apologize to Natasha, you look at the source of the noise. Alexei is standing in the doorway, speaking loudly.

“Y/n!”

He walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. You gasp for breath as he nearly squeezes you.

“Alexei! Careful, you’re smushing her and the baby.”

“Oh, sorry. I forgot.” Alexei quickly steps away, his face turning slightly red.

“It’s okay. Good to see you too, you smile at him. You then look back at your wife’s scared expression. You reassure her you’re okay, before leaning back again. You make some small talk with Melina and Alexei about the Avengers and about how the farm is doing. You talk about the pigs, the chickens and the new horse they recently bought.

Around five o’clock Yelena comes in. It had started to rain just after you and Natasha had arrived and the blonde entered the house, soaking wet. Melina handed Yelena a small towel and when she was mostly dry again, she greeted you and Natasha.

“Hey sis and her preggy wife.”

“Hey Yel.” You both greet her and she carefully gives you a hug.

“How are the two of you doing?” She asks you.

“We’re doin-” Nat starts.

“No, not you Nat. Y/n and the little guy.” Yelena interrupts Nat. You frown at her words. You slowly turn your head to Nat, to see her looking at Yelena with an angry face.

“Yelena.” Nat exclaims annoyed.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It doesn’t matter, Nat. I’m sure Melina and Alexei can keep it a secret for the next two weeks or so.”

“Wait! You’re 8,5 months already?” Yelena interrupts you. Shouldn’t you be at home, resting?”

“That’s what I have done for the last few months. I’ve got enough sleep for a lifetime, read every book in the bookcase and watched every film on Netflix, Prime Video and Disney+. So I got a little bored, you know?” "Yeah... of course."

After you talked for another hour or so and Melina finished cooking, you all ate together. Although the food was delicious, you only ate a small amount, earning yourself a few concerned looks from Natasha. You felt her hand on yours as she softly whispered something.

“You okay, honey?”

You hummed in a response.

“I’m just a little tired I guess.” Natasha nodded and after desert she stood up, announcing your departure. You felt Melina’s eyes on you.

“Are you sure honey? You can sleep here if you want. It’s quite a long way home. Yelena is staying over too. You and Nat can have the spare room, you just have to refresh the sheets. Yelena can sleep on the couch.”

“I’m sorr-” Yelena protested, but one look from Melina and she nodded her head.

“I actually think that we would rather sleep in our ow-” Natasha was about to reject the offer, but you pulled her sleeve, stopping her from finishing.

“Actually, we would really appreciate that. Thank you, Melina.”

“You walked your pregnant body down the hall slowly, taking forever. Natasha came after you, supporting you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go home?”

“I’m really tired Tash and the weather outside is only getting worse. I don’t want us to have to stop halfway the ride, or worse, crash against a tree.”

“Yeah, me neither. Let’s get you to bed.”

Natasha helped you get to bed. She brushed your hair and made the bed, while you sat on the chair. You nearly dozed off and you were almost asleep when you felt Natasha pick you up bridal style, carrying you to the bed. You didn’t protest, you were too tired. You laid your head against Natasha’s shoulder as she let you down on the bed. She gently put the sheets over you. You put one arm above the sheets, laying it over your belly protectively. Natasha gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead and walked to the bathroom. You relaxed your body, ready to fall asleep, when you felt Natasha getting under the blankets behind you, wrapping her arm around you, her hand covering yours on your belly. You gave in to her warmth for a moment before saying:

“Tasha baby, you don’t have to go to bed too just because I’m tired.”

“But…” She protested.

“No baby, get out of bed. I can fall asleep on my own fine.” You felt a kiss on the back of your head, before Natasha got out of bed.

“Sleep well baby.” She whispered, before quietly closing the door.

*** Ow

You opened your eyes, half-awake as you felt a wave of pain going through your body. You put both hands on your belly, the source of the pain. The pain slowly faded as you were still hugging your own body. You took a few minutes to fully wake up. You turned around, reaching out to Natasha. She wasn’t next to you.

“Hey babe.” You heard her voice, you looked up at her. She was sitting in a chair, reading a book. She stood up from her chair, walking to you.

“What’s wrong.” You were about to answer her, when another wave of pain hit you and you curled up in pain. Natasha’s eyes widened.

“Is- is it time?” You nodded as you puffed away the pain.

“Yes… I think… so.” Natasha’s eyes widened even further. Her demeanor suddenly changed. She couldn’t panic right now. You needed her.

“What can I do?”

“Get Melina.” You answered. Melina rushed to your room. She sat down next to you. Her hand on your back. She spoke to you softly.

“When the next contractions hits, I will measure the time between them. All you have to do is puff them away. You probably learned that at delivery training, right? You nod. Another contraction hits. Melina looks at her watch, puffing with you. A minute goes by and the contraction ends. You relax your body and look up at Natasha, who is standing in front of you like a statue, with a pale face. Melina looks at Natasha too and as soon as she sees her daughter, she orders her to sit down.

“Sit down, Natasha. We don’t need for you to faint.”

Natasha listens to Melina’s orders and sits down on a chair.

Ten minutes go by before another contraction hits you, forcing a cry to leave your throat. You feel a wet pool forming between your legs and you grab Melina’s arm.

“I think… my water broke.”

The contraction ends and Melina helps you to get up from the bed. You stand next to the bed, leaning on Natasha, who has stood up from her chair. Melina quickly pulls the sheets off the bed, throwing them in the corner of the room.

“Stay here for a minute. If she has another contraction, puff with her until it ends and measure the time between them.”

Melina leaves the room, going to her own room.

“Wake up Alexei.”

“I’m already awake.” He grumbles.

“Some idiot decided it would be a good idea to scream and-”

“Y/n’s in labor, now get out of your bed and put a pan with water on the stove.” Alexei quickly gets out of his bed, rushing to the kitchen. Not intending to be anywhere near you when you give birth to your son. Melina quickly gets some towels from her closet, laying them on the bed, before heading back to your room. She enters the room as another contraction makes its way through your body. Melina orders Natasha to carry you to her room.

Natasha picks you up bridal style and you hold on to her tight, your screams muffled into her shirt. She lays you down on Melina’s bed and carefully helps you undress you lower body. You make yourself as ‘comfortable’ as possible, letting your back rest against some pillows as Melina stand at the end of the bed between your legs. She tells you it’s time to push and you hold on tight to Natasha’s hand, almost squeezing it.

*** Melina carefully hands you the little guy, after she cleaned him with the water Alexei warmed and wrapped him in a light blue blanket. With tears staining your cheeks, you take him and press him against your chest. After you give the little guy a kiss you look to your left, at Natasha.

Her eyes are red from crying, her chest moving up and down quickly. You give her the little boy. With shaking hands, she takes him from your hands, afraid she’ll drop him. He’s the most beautiful thing she has ever seen. More tears start to fall.

It warms your heart, looking at your wife with your son. She is crying, but you know they’re happy tears. Her dream of being a mother finally came true. The two of you had a son. You knew she would be the best mother ever as she looked up at you, her eyes full of love.

You gesture her to sit down next to you and you wrap her and your son in your arms. Nat lays her head against your chest.

“What do you think of James? After Bucky?” Nat suggests.

“James.” You repeat “James Romanoff. Perfect.”

“Romanoff?” Natasha asks, looking up to meet your eyes.

“Romanoff. After his mom.”

A/n: When it says ‘your son’, ‘your’ is in plural, like Y/n’s and Natasha’s son.

#marvel #marvel mcu #marvel universe #the avengers #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x fem reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x female reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #black widow x reader #black widow

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x-infernhoes-x · 3 years

Text

She’s My Collar- Basilio x Reader

Title: She’s My Collar

Genre: Romance, Smut, Porn with Plot

Warning(s): Mentions of Semi-Public Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Implied Consent, Basilio nearly murdering someone because they spoke badly about you

Description: KAI IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THIS ONE’S FOR YOU AND ALL OF YOU BASILIO SIMPS

NOTE SOMETIME AROUND 3:00 AM YESTERDAY NAWALA YUNG ORIGINAL PUTANG INA I WAS THIS CLOSE ON FINISHING IT SHDJGFHJBDKJBSEDVGSJHGBKHGSFKJBGBKJGBJGLJBGWL AN HOUR’S WORTH OF WRITING G O N E AND I HAD TO REWRITE EVERYTHING I AM STRESSED AND DSBJKGBKJFSDGNB SO ENJOY.

4:31 AM NOTE UPDATE YESTERDAY: langya ayoko na. matutulog na nga ako, sakit na ng likod ko.

6:50 PM NOTE TODAY: I’M GOING TO FINISH THIS BEFORE MIDNIGHT COMES. ALSO, DON’T DRINK AND DRIVE KIDS!!

12:10 AM NOTE TODAY: The note above this one is a lie. I managed to continue this after family night lmao but enjoy still. Tried my best to make it gender-neutral as possible but yeah :’) I kinda failed successfully I think???

You and Basilio have been dating for quite some time now. Although he was a messy guy you made sure that you had his back and helped him out to work on how to keep his sloppy tendencies at bay and in turn he would shower you with love and affection that you would usually get from the demi-god of war. Basilio was the perfect guy, he was a sweet lad who made your lonely days better, he made sure that you were cared for in any shape or form and he always had your back in everything and he would give you anything you would ask for in the world. The two of you barely even fought and if you were to fight, it would be more of a joke one than an all-out screaming match. He was the best thing that has ever happened to you and you constantly thank Bathala for it and Basilio thought the same. The two of you were a match made in heaven.

Although despite your busy schedules keeping the two of you apart, you both made sure that you and your loving boyfriend would get the chance to hang out together. Often, you and Basilio would frequent the Diabolical together, just basking in each other's presence, tucked away in some booth Hank had reserved for the two of you, or sitting by the bar just chatting about each other’s day. You could recall Hank telling you that whenever you were around or that when someone ever mentions your name, Basilio seemed to calm down and would eagerly listen into whatever conversation had said your name. There was a time where Basilio nearly knocked someone’s teeth out because they were talking badly of you and it took Crispin, Maliksi, Hannah, Amie, Alex, and Hank himself to hold back the younger twin and prevent him from punching someone’s lights or teeth out or even prevent a murder from ever happening.

“Alam mo, (Y/N) pag naririnig ni Basilio na dadaan ka rito, parang siyang aso na di mapakali. Kulang nalang na magkaroon siya ng buntot e.” Hank joked as he was cleaning the freshly washed glass, watching Basilio flush red, face buried into his forearm as he groaned in response while you let out a small chuckle.

Now looking back, that memory seemed to be far away from you. Tonight happened to be your anniversary with Basilio and instead of a cozy night in, he wanted to do something different. Basilio wanted to take you out dancing and bar hopping around Bonifacio Global City’s luxurious bars (sometimes you wondered to yourself how the hell can Basilio afford this.) and maybe take you sight seeing around the place when you got the time. Pacing around your living room in your apartment, you were about to shoot him a text message when a knock at your door had interrupted you from doing so, nearly dropping your phone in the process. “Sandali lang!” you yelled to whoever was outside the door. If there was one thing you learned from dating Basilio, it was being vigilant. You had to make sure that the person on the other side of your door was your boyfriend and not some kind of Aswang or any malicious person who had a personal grudge against the twins and Alex. Taking a peek at the pee hole your door had, you were greeted by the sight of your boyfriend, Basilio grinning up at you as he waved. Instead of wearing his suit, Basilio was in his casual clothing for tonight, his long silken locks pulled back in a half-up, half-down man-bun.

Opening the door, you then welcomed him with open arms before proceeding to smack him playfully on his arm, an amused smirk on your lips as you opened your mouth to speak, your tone light and teasing, “Took you long enough! Siguro na-traffic ka no?” Basilio could only roll his dark eyes at you as he placed a loving kiss upon your head. “Hindi a, si Kuya Crispin kasi e, sobrang tagal niya sa banyo kaya ayun.” Pulling himself away from you, he then offered his arm for you to take with a grin, his head tilting towards the direction of the door as he spoke, “So ano? Tara na?” “Siyempre naman.”

After making sure your apartment was locked, the two of you went down towards the direction of the parking lot and took a couple few selfies inside the elevator, you and Basilio were off. While in the car, the both of you would scream along to the lyrics of Ang Huling El Bimbo by Eraserheads while in traffic. On your way to BGC, both of you were surprised to see Maliksi and his significant by the stoplight, taking the advantage of the long-ass stop to chat with the Prince of the Tikbalangs and his fiancé. Your conversation was cut short when the stoplight had changed from red to green, saying your goodbyes to each other as Basilio drove away to your very first destination, which was none other than XYLO at The Palace.

In all honesty, you’ve heard about this bar but it was the first time you got to enter the place itself. The both of you got lucky that the place wasn’t as packed and that you got there early before the actual party had started. Both you and Basilio then made your way over to the bar to grab your first drinks of the night. The two of you chatted for a while, occasionally nodding your heads to the beat of the song. After a while, the night seemed to kick in and both of you were already at what seemed to be your 3rd or 4th bar of the night, this time you and Basilio were jumping up and down to DJ Khalid’s song ‘All I Do Is Win’ before the both of you screamed along with the rest of the patrons, “Putang Ina, Alak Pa!” and time seemed to flow faster than ever as you and your loving boyfriend went in and about around BGC’s classiest bars, downing every single drink you two could manage and take or even dance along to the songs the bars provided while occasionally sharing a kiss here and there, not minding the reek of alcohol and sweat clinging on each other’s bodies as the two of you laughed.

Sometime around 10:30, you and Basilio were shitfaced to oblivion but both of you were used to it. You had lost count on how many drinks you’ve managed to down yet you and Basilio couldn’t care less, you were certain that you heard your phones ring but you two never got the chance to answer them because Basilio was busy doing body shots on you or you making out with your boyfriend in some hidden corner of the bar. You were starting to get the hint that after your little make-out session at Club Haze, he was focused on one thing and you knew what that meant, despite being inebriated out of your wits. So what do you do? Put on a show for him of course.

You knew Basilio was sitting by the bar because you told him you were going to use the bathroom to freshen up a little bit since the club felt a little bit humid. What he didn’t expect was you sashaying over to where the dance floor, the last notes of Nelly Furtado’s Maneater fading away only to be replaced by Doja Cat’s Streets. To you, the sound seemed to have slowed down and you weren’t sure because it was the alcohol’s effects taking over, nobody else in the club mattered but your boyfriend alone. The figures around you seemed to blur and Basilio was the only one you had your eyes on as your body moved to the beat, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted, and even from afar, you could see your demi-god of a boyfriend shuffle in his seat, his cheeks brightly flushed even under the lights of the dark club (yes, Basilio even tried to hide his raging boner from everyone but he was failing miserably). You knew that he was watching you closely like a predator ready to strike and even from afar you can tell that he was getting impatient with your games and that made you smirk. You knew that Basilio had a thing for Semi-Public sex and your several other experiences with him were proof of that, hell the two of you almost got caught one time and you were internally thankful that you weren’t. But tonight, Basilio’s going to abide by the rules of your own game and not his.

The opening bass beat from Beyonce’s Yonce/Partition was your cue to take things up a notch by making your way over to the bar where you had stood upon the counter (you had asked the bartender and the rest of the patrons who hung around the bar save for Basilio in advance and they seemed to agree with it just as long as you were careful) and made your way down the counter, hips sashaying and your body with every beat and drop before stopping to where he was, a smirk on your face, your hands running up from your thighs and right past your chest in a sensual manner, leaning in just so you could ghost your lips over Basilio’s eagerly waiting ones before pulling away with a wink. Once your little show was done and you had gone down from your counter with the help of the bartender you had just spoken to before making your way over to the dance floor once more to dance just as your song, She’s My Collar by Gorillaz began to play only to be caught short when you felt a hand grab you by the wrist.

Despite being drunk you were still smart and quick to retaliate towards whoever had grabbed you only to be surprised to be looking right directly at your boyfriend’s dark obsidian gaze, his breath slow and ragged and you knew you were in it for real this time the moment he said, “We’re leaving.” In a tone, you’ve never heard from him before and that seemed to send shivers and chills up your spine as he dragged you away from the bar to head right outside.

Honestly, the whole trip back to the car seemed to pass you by like a blur, you would occasionally stumble on your own feet, which prompted Basilio to sling you over his shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes (at least it gave you a perfect view of his ass). The moment you arrived at your car, however, you were thrown haphazardly into the backseat after Basilio had unlocked the door with ease and then entered the vehicle as well, quickly pulling you up on his lap where he locked his lips with you in a heated kiss, hands roaming around your body with such need and you could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his dark jeans. You were surprised at first but once the initial shock and surprise had worn off, you kissed him back as well with the same passion and need that he emulated from his kiss, your fingers and hands made a quick undo of his man-bun and top, hastily unbuttoning them, eager to touch the skin underneath it and leave marks on it. Basilio could only groan in response to your touches, his tongue exploring your mouth like uncharted territory, his hands groping your behind with such force that made you moan out his name, a quiet hiss of “Tangina.” Soon followed your surprise.

In your mayhem of desire and lust, you didn’t notice Basilio play Chase Atlantic’s song Devilish on the radio.

Clothes were thrown around and about in the space of the car and in that blur of clothing being discarded around, you were honestly surprised when Basilio had lifted up your lower half towards him, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs before his head disappeared in between your legs, bestowing you the best oral you’ve ever had received from him in your years of dating. You couldn’t thrash around with him holding you so tightly against his face as he went down on you but your hands were free to roam and tug at his long silken locks, his name spoken like a prayer and just as you were about to reach your peak, he had pulled away from you, a sadistic yet innocent smirk placed upon his now glistening chin and lips coated in your slick as he spoke, “Not yet, babe.” Winking at you, he gingerly set you down before he leaned over to where his now discarded jeans were as he pulled out his wallet, fishing out a condom and a small pack of lube for him to use. Once the foil was open and the rubber was on his already hard dick, he then proceeded to open the pack of lube, rubbing it on his length before instructing you to get on your hands and your ass up for him.

And by Bathala you began to see stars the moment he had entered you. Your nails seemed to dig on the dark leather surface of the car’s upholstery, your back arched to the extreme and you were certain that you could feel Basilio trailing kisses along the expanse of your neck, shoulders, and back, his hands guiding you on his length while yours snaked around to reach for him, tilting your head sidewards to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, his manhood still relentless at fucking you senseless and in between the thrusts and moans, you were thankful that the windows were tinted from the outside or else the two of you would’ve been caught. Throughout the whole night, you two spent it by doing it on every single surface inside the car, doing every single position the two of you could think of, taking each other to new heights with every pose the two of you did, and yes, let’s just say you were sore the morning after that.

Once the morning came around, the two of you were still naked and you were sure that after your last round with your loving boyfriend, you felt the waves of your hang-over wash over you like a wave, making you groan out in pain. Everything was sore with you and your body was littered with hickies, bruises, and scratch marks while Basilio, who had his healing factor with him thanks to his demi-god status, was relatively unscathed but he did have some hickies of his own to present to the world. Shuffling, you gently nudged Basilio awake as you spoke, “Babe, anong oras na??”

At your action, your boyfriend, still groggy from sleep, could only groan at this, his hand reaching out to search for his mobile phone to check the time. Squinting, he then saw the time on his phone but the color on his face seemed to drain the moment he saw several missed calls and messages from his twin brother and the Babaylan-Mandirigma herself. “SHIT!” Basilio managed to cry out of sheer panic, his head accidentally hitting against the roof of the car, making him hiss even more, hands holding the spot where he had hit his head. “Lagot tayo kay Bossing, (Y/N), kagabi pa niya tayo tinatwagan kasama ni Kuya Crispin.” At the mere mention of Alex and Crispin’s name, you seemed to understand the sense of urgency before the two of you began to clean up the car, dressing up as you did so, attempting to make yourselves look more presentable and cover the tracks from yesterday’s events. Once done, Basilio was driving like a speeding madman in a rush to head back where his brother and Alex were at.

It took him at least an hour to arrive at their destination with Alex taking the role as today’s designated driver while Basilio sat in the back with his brother. “San ba kayo galing? Kagabi pa namin kayo tinatawagan ni Crispin, (Y/N), Basilio. Ano ba nangyare, ha?” Alex spoke, her eyes flickering over to where Basilio was, sheepishly scratching the back of his head as he spoke, “Sensya na ho, Bossing. Nag-sight seeing kasi kami ni (Y/N) kagabi tas nag-bar hoping kami tas pagkatapos nakatulog kami dito sa kotse.” A little doubtful of this, Alex could only glance at you from the corner of her eye, expecting for you to react but you held your emotions close to your heart as you spoke, “Totoo po yung sinasabi ni Basilio, bossing. Di po naming sadya na di kayo replyan ni Crispin. Di na po mauulit.” Nodding, Alex then excused the both of you and the car ride was silent, save for the fact that the radio was playing Last Friday Night by Katy Perry. You did feel a little bit cold however and you couldn’t help the fact that something was missing until Crispin screamed out in surprise, horror, and disgust, finally noticing the thing you were missing. Ah shit. “TANGINA BASILIO, ANO TO!?!?!” Crispin managed to yell out, holding up your lace underwear for everyone in the car to see with Basilio quickly snatching the piece of clothing away from his brother, tucking it in his pocket before he responded, “ANONG-ANO KA DIYAN KUYA!?! WALA KANG NAKITA!!”

You silently prayed to Bathala for him to forgive you but you were sure as hell Alex won’t. You made a mental note to not ever do it in the car you guys use for missions ever again.

#trese #trese netflix #trese x reader #trese fanfic #basilio #basilio x reader #basilio trese #alexandra trese #crispin #crispin trese #maliksi trese #maliksi #smut #AWIT I CANT BELIEVE I'VE MANAGED TO FINISH THIS UP AT 3:24 AM #SAKIT NG LIKOD KO #GOOD LUCK TO YOU BASILIO SIMPS

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