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#Jason's wearing that sweater just because he can
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Princess treatment only - MultiMuse x Fem!Reader
Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Not many, some mentions of killing, but nothing graphic. Kind of fluffy
Type: HC’s
Request: N/A
Word Count: N/A
Prompt: Some HC’s as to how the muses would give the reader the princess treatment.
Notes: I don’t know where I was going with this, but this is mainly fluff, maybe sometime I’ll spice it up. I just had to get my writing juice brewing. Not proofread at all just go.
Jason Voorhees: Honestly, would treat you like a princess regardless. Will pick flowers for you when he’s outside. Always lets you borrow his flannels. Always walks in front of you to make sure there’s no danger, but looks back constantly to make sure there’s no danger behind you?? lmao. You won’t ever have to lift a finger when you’re with him. Literally at your beck and call. Will try his best not to kill in front of you, but sometimes it just ?? happens lol. Tries to be soft when touching you because you’re literally the most perfect thing that has ever crossed his path.
Michael Myers: Is your literal bodyguard. Will follow you anywhere and everywhere, you might as well call him your shadow. Lets you hug him and climb onto his lap whenever. Won’t hug you back yet, working on it. Nobody comes near you, no exceptions. Sorry. Stares at you most of the time. Can’t say it, but you’re literally flawless to him. Will use his body as a shield for you. Would kill anything for you. Eventually learns to put his palm against your cheek and that’s his second greatest accomplishment, the first being bagging you, literally and figuratively.
Tiffany Valentine: You won’t ever have to worry about a thing when you’re with her. Always gets her hands dirty for you. Lots of cheek and neck kisses. Praises your looks all the time. She will always brag about you whether it’s what you do, how you look, anything and everything. She would always make sure you have the latest clothes. She’d make sure you always had your staple make up pieces available. When it comes to killing, she’d get creative, that way you guys will never have literal blood on your hands, especially you, never you.
Billy Loomis: Lots of nicknames. Kinda only has a soft spot for you. Can never ever tell you no and stick to it. Won’t hesitate to kill anyone who makes fun of him for this. Drives you everywhere. Ties your shoes. Always makes time for you. Will help you pick out your outfits and tell you which one he likes and which one he doesn’t. Will wear the bracelets you make him. Anything in his closet is yours, help yourself. Always touching you, holding your hand, holding your waist, you’ve infatuated him enough to have him carelessly cover you in soft kisses, laying his head on your shoulder. Kinda creative with dates tbh.
Stu Macher: You will forever be his princess. Will carry you across puddles. Lots of cheek and forehead kisses. Would learn how to paint your nails for you during class. Always makes sure you have a good grade on your exam, whether he has to swap out the papers after class or make sure you get the right answers, you can absolutely count on him. You don’t have to use your brain around him, no worries. Thinks you look adorable in his sweaters, especially oversized. Loves when you sit on his lap. Prioritizes you over anything and everything. Even if you don’t like horror movies, Stu would absolutely find something else for you to watch.
Patrick Bateman: Honestly, when he falls in love with you, it’s princess treatment only. Will give you a skin care routine and help you follow through with it. Kind of makes you feel dumb, but not like a stupid dumb, more like a ‘oh dear sweet baby you are a little dumb but pretty, but dumb, let me help you’ Same thing if you fall asleep with your makeup on, Patricks on the way with the micellar makeup remover. Will speak up for you if you don’t like a service, he won’t be mean about it unless he has to. Always makes sure you’re hydrated (also part of your skin care routine). You will be a housewife/girlfriend. Feel free to splurge, you are his trophy princess after all. Will take you anywhere you want. Will make things up for you if he has to be at work late.
Leatherface: I don’t ever see a scenario where Bubba does not treat his s/o like a princess. It’s like part of the deal. Either way, expect wild flowers all the time. It’s his favorite thing to do for you. He even makes you a vase and makes sure your flowers are always fresh. Will literally die and kill for you without any hesitation. At his knees for you. Bubba will crawl to you across pins and needles if you asked him to. He’s always making sure you’re comfortable and safe, never hungry or in your mind for too long. Melts at your touch. Would learn how to dance just to dance to your favorite songs. Always gets awestruck with you.
Harley Quinn: Will absolutely take you anywhere you want, no matter how random it is. Always dazed when looking at you. Keeps pictures of you all dressed up in her bag or car or wherever she goes. Selina gave her a heart shaped locket once and yeah, you guessed it, the cutest picture of you is in there. Doesn’t hesitate to shoot any man for you. Leaves your face covered in red kisses. She would do anything to make you laugh. Anything you want, it’s yours! Just point at it.
Poison Ivy: Pamela will always spoil you, regardless of how you act. You’ve heard of people growing gardens for their s/o, she would grow forests for you. She’s the most gentle with you, gentle caresses and soft kisses. Paints your nails, brushes your hair while adding flowers into the locks. Always admires dressing you up and putting make up on you. Almost never wants you to leave. Slow dances with you. She’d do anything to keep you out of danger. You think Michael is a good bodyguard? Pamela is the bodyguard.
Bruce Wayne: hhnnnngh. Ok. No but you are the Princess Wayne. Spoiling you rotten goes without saying. Anything your little heart desires is yours. Helps you get dressed. His favorite is helping you with your stockings. Gentle kisses everywhere. Brushes your hair. Lifting you up constantly when there’s a crack in the pavement. Always the driver. Your safety is always first, always. No because whatever you want means whatever you want, which is why there are hello kitty plushies scattered across the Wayne manor. You’ve somehow managed to get your own cozy theater in there too. Princess treatment also means Bruce having to lay back just a teeny bit on Batman just to guard you too while you sleep.
Jason Todd: nmmnnmf YES. I don’t see him treating his s/o any other way. Lots of pet names. Loooves to help you get dressed. Sits you on the counter as he cooks. Never lets you out of his sight. Anything you want it’s yours. Always buying you cute socks and letting you wear his clothes. Forehead kisses. Oh man it’s so disgusting how much Jason loves his princess. Always taking pictures of you, no matter the angle. Would 1000000% tie bows into your hair if you asked.
Billy Hargrove: Honestly if he’s in love with you, princess treatment is granted. Always giving you his jackets, especially when you wear skirts or dresses out. Lifting you over mud and puddles. Subtle kisses on the head while you’re out. Body guard mode activated. He kinda becomes your shadow, appearing out of nowhere and greeting you with a kiss on the forehead. Ties your shoes without asking. Wiping any tears or smeared makeup off your face. Winks at you all the timeee.
Steve Harrington: Kind of similar to Stu, he always makes sure you pass your class. Poor princess doesn’t use her brain in school, too busy trying to stay awake. Always gives you his jacket, even if you don’t want to wear it, he’ll wrap it around you. Finds any excuse to carry you or pick you up. So affectionate. Kisses on the cheek, lips, forehead. Sometimes he will miss and kiss your eye but ugh it’s so fucking cute. Only has eyes for you. Tying your shoes, putting your socks on, literally just dressing you in general is a must. Literally will take you wherever you want, whenever. Drops everything when you call. Such a sucker with the nicknames for you.
Steve Rogers: Ugh another one. Think of him as a body guard who you get to kiss and sit on his lap. Always drops everything to make sure you’re okay. Cannot take his eyes off of you. So smooth with the reassurance. Kisses on the forehead constantly. Always tucks you in. Would help you bathe if you asked. Pulls you onto his lap every time you both sit down. Whatever you want, you’ll get. If he can’t do it, he’ll find a way. Cups your face in his hands when you cry, kisses your tears away. Ugh he’s your literal teddy bear, if you don’t like to be smothered? Pick another muse.
Bucky Barnes: Similar to Steve, he’s your shadow, but he’s a little more … upfront with it. He’s constantly wrapping an arm around you, eyeing anyone who’s eyeing you. He’s so gentle if you’re sensitive. Kissing your cheek is his favorite. Always lingering his fingertips around your crevices. Makes sure you’re never hungry. Always up before you are. Lets you sleep in. If you fight, he will never raise his voice at you. Ready to carry you if you’re too tired to keep walking around. Slow dances with you just because. He’s always worried for you, making sure you’re okay, you’re not sick or hungry. Pet names with him are a must.
Loki Laufeyson: Okkkk and in what situation did you ever think loki was not going to give you the princess treatment??? You are literal Princess Laufeyson. Though he, and Sebastian maybe, are the only ones who can probably, maybe, say no to you, if you pout enough maybe he’ll come to a compromise with you. He never wants to upset you though. Would literally wipe out a small world for you. Or a few. Ok even betray anyone for you. Always cleaning your smeared makeup, fixing your hair, wiping you because you spilled your drink. He’s so devoted to you, im going to throw up. He devours you with his eyes from a distance, you’re never leaving his sight.
Cloud Strife: Ugh ok. Literal bodyguard, as he’s hired to be at times. At your beck and call, though he’d never admit it. Such a sucker and can never say no to you. Though it may take time, he can start calling you ‘baby’ ‘sweet girl’ ‘love’ he’s so infatuated with you and doesn’t know how to handle it. Your safety is his priority. Always listens to you ramble on and on. Brings you flowers for no reason other than he was thinking of you. He’s such a sucker for you. Follows you everywhere.
Sebastian Michaelis: He’s probably the most tame out of everyone but that doesn’t mean he’s not a sucker. There are rules he’s willing to bend for you, literally willing to kill anyone that has the slightest interest in hurting you. Always makes sure you’re fed and if you want a sweet treat, he’s on it. Listens to you talk, even if it’s silly. Dances with you almost every night. He’s so graceful with it. Dressing you and feeding you is his favorite but he might throw in a few teases “poor sweet baby, you haven’t woken up yet to tell your left foot from your right” as you rub your eyes with the wrong shoes on. Of course he’s willing to help, even if he has the idea that you do this on purpose, he's more than happy to oblige.
Spencer Reid: Though his job wouldn’t encourage it, he still drops almost everything to answer you. Always finds a way to share time with his job and his attention to you. Reads to you all the time, whether in person or over the phone. He’s always making comparisons of you being the princess in most fictional stories that you both come across. He’s so gentle with you. Caresses your face all the time. You lay your head on his lap or sit on his lap as he reads away. Always making sure to keep up with your well-being before his own. Would 10000% pick up a habit of writing you little notes or picking flowers for you or taking Polaroids or something to remind you of your everlasting presence in his mind.
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sp0o0kylights · 7 months
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Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
2K notes · View notes
ecoamerica · 21 days
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amomentsescape · 4 months
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Hey a while ago I requested a oneshot of the reader giving jason voorhees a shirt that said "thot destroyer 9000" but what if you did that with other slashers? Like giving bubba a shirt that says "everything is bigger in Texas" and freddy in a basic "dream guy/boat etc" shirt or one of the nightmare before Christmas shirts that say "what a wonderful nightmare"? And maybe other slashers if ya can think of shirts that'll fit em? (Shirt quotes not mine and merry post Christmas)
Slashers React to Custom Made T-Shirts
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
A/N: I think this would be absolutely hilarious to see! Thank you so much, and Merry (Very Late) Christmas and Happy New Year!
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Freddy Krueger
He lets out his notorious laugh the moment he sees it
"I am pretty dreamy, aren't I?"
Puts it on over his sweater
Will pretty much always have it on, especially when he sees you
He ends up wearing it during his future killings, even asking them if they like the shirt or not
If any of them answer no, he makes their deaths a lot more painful
Will also want you to get a similar shirt so you both can match
He'll probably end up asking for a sweater version a few months later
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Michael Myers
He just kind of gives you that disappointed parent look
"Barely even looks like me"
Will refuse to wear it unless you beg him repeatedly over the course of a few days
Finally gives in and puts it on underneath his overalls
He is honestly kind of embarrassed to wear it, but you no longer bothering him about it makes up for the embarrassment
After wearing it a few times, it gets to the point that he doesn't even think about it anymore
It's pretty much all he wears now
But only because he's grown used to it, not because he likes it
Or so he tells you
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Jason Voorhees
(I couldn't quite find a shirt that fit the description, so I went with the closest I could find)
He tilts his head at you in confusion
Poor boy doesn't even know what a "thot" is
When you explain it to him, you can tell he finds it kind of funny
Will put it on jokingly for you, only to realize it's pretty comfortable
Will wear it under his jacket
Even if he doesn't have it on, he'll carry it around with him
He insists it helps his killing ability and is a good luck charm
But he pretty much just cherishes ANYTHING you give him
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Thomas Hewitt
He lets out a few chuckles at this
Will pull you into a big hug as his way of thanking you
He'll only wear the shirt on special occasions
He's worried it'll get ruined if he wears it when he's working outside or tending to "dinner"
But he does love the shirt
Will probably show it off to the family and receive some laughs and head nods
Will make you wear it sometimes as a joke since you're practically drowning in the shirt
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Bubba Sawyer
He loves receiving anything from you
So he happily takes the shirt and gives you some gleeful giggles and kisses as his thank you
But he honestly has no idea what it means
You have to make the connection of what his family eats and the shirt in order to get a true response out him
He'll laugh like crazy
He immediately puts it on
You'll have to quite literally fight him in order to wash it or take it off
If anyone accidentally stains it or causes a tear, he'll go into a frenzy
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Brahms Heelshire
He immediately gets it and smiles
You've made a mistake though
Because he ends up putting it on his list of actual rules
Will make some dirty jokes about it
He quickly puts the shirt on and stands there, giving you a "well, go on" sort of look
Anytime he wears the shirt now, he expects you to follow what it says...
Good luck, because you've made Brahms just that much harder to handle
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Norman Bates
Will give you a gentle smile and thank you for the shirt
He definitely thinks it's funny and will happily wear it around the house
It mostly becomes a pajama shirt, not that you mind
He doesn't fully understand the joke, but he likes that you think he's cute
Will hang it up in a special place in the closet so he'll always see it
He likes when you wear it too
"I-I think it may suit you better, dear"
"That's so sweet, Norman... wait a minute"
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Billy Loomis
He rolls his eyes at it but with the widest smile on his face
It doesn't take much for him to give in and try it on
He secretly thinks the shirt is hilarious, but he doesn't want to inflate your ego and end up with 30 similar tees
Doesn't wear it in public though since he's worried people may become a little suspicious
He likes it better on you though
So you both sort of trade off the shirt every week or so
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Stu Macher
Practically the opposite of Billy's reaction
Stu will hold it up and immediately exclaim on how much he loves it
Thinks it's hilarious and will immediately throw it on
Does a couple funny twirls to show off how it looks
Honestly doesn't care what people think
He'll happily skip around in public with the shirt on, you right by his side
If anyone points it out he just shrugs and says "it's pretty sick, right?"
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Eric Draven
He breaks out into a big smile and even laughs a little bit
"I see what you did there"
Flashes the shirt to his crow
"They look just like you"
He gives you a sweet kiss as a thank you
Will wear it on dates and stay-at-home days with you
He doesn't want it to get all beat up while he's out taking down criminals
But even after months of owning it, he still smiles whenever he puts it on
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the-daydreaming-show · 8 months
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Midnight thoughts on Batmom and her children's clothes.
WARNING: My mother was like this, Not on the money side, though. And you ask:¿Ella, are you projecting?, and I will answer: No. ¿Were you got such nonsense idea?
This gif represents my mind right now. I should be sleeping.
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Batmom keeps its kids SPOTLESS when it comes to dressing. She doesn't control what they wear, but her kids have only the best brands on them. And if she couldn't get whatever they want in the best brand, it's gonna will be tailored for them.
JUST THE BEST FOR HER BABIES.
And she does not repeat it, there is no such thing as the younger brother taking the clothes of the older one in this family. Each child has their own style, autonomy and clothes, and they rarely agree on those things so sharing is never an option for them when it comes to clothing. If her baby grows out of their clothes, Batmom donate it or keep it for future grandchildren.
I mean, I'm talking about #silentluxury for her children, from they feet to the tip of their heads.
The funniest thing about all this is that most of the time they do not even realize it. It's not until a Gotham news forum pulls out a detailed article about the Wayne's silent luxury fashion and how it dates from Dick's early days at the mansion to the present day with Damian that they notice the pattern.
Like, imagine newly-reunited-with-his-family-but-still-rebellious Jason wearing a sweatshirt of the brand The Row that clearly bought his mom and costs at least $ 800 that he can not pay because he is a rebel and does not need his dad's money but he acepts gifts from his mum, of course.
Or little Dick returning from a day of art classes (because Batmom decided to give him other extracurricular activities other than a vigilante dressed as a traffic light) excited with his Dior jeans of $ 1300 dollars stained in paint, but with a work of art in his hand that he did only for his mommy.
Or Tim, wearing a pair of $450 black Gucci sandals, walking half-asleep out of his college class after he didn't hear his alarm, so he left with the first thing he found from his apartment.
Or Damian, putting one of his cashmire sweaters on Titus at Christmas, wearing a maching of his own, equally expensive and soft.
Also, imagine Cassandra only wearing THE BEST in balett shoes and equipment, totally unconsciously of the amount of money that really costs, all that because neither Batmom nor Bruce ever told her because it's nothing really that expensive for this family.
And no matter how many clothes they ruin. Never. And I repeat: NEVER their mom will allow her children to have something less.
(They are more spoiled than they themselves even realize.)
Bruce got jealous at some point and started letting Batmom choose his wardrobe as well.
Allright, NOW I'm done.
Good night.
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bruciemilf · 2 years
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"Estranged son Jason" "Estranged son Dick" you are all WRONG, TIM is the estranged son. Jason breaks down crying if Bruce doesn't send him a paragraph of a good morning text every day.
Tim is never home unless he physically can't avoid it. Tim doesn't visit unless everything's going to shit and he has to do damage control and run interference to make sure nobody storms off in a moody fit and drops off the map for months. Tim pulls the you're not my dad card immediately Bruce tries to parent him in a way he doesn't like (literally any way that isn't extremely hands-off) and Bruce can't even say anything to the contrary because Tim's emancipated and Bruce was his legal guardian for less than two years.
Jason comes home for the week before and after every holiday, no matter how much he grumbles, and goes all sullen whenever he doesn't have his pile of thirty-three or more gifts. Jason handmakes Bruce father’s day gifts and sulks whenever Bruce glances at anyone else's for a second more.
Tim has to be begged and bargained with and blackmailed into coming for even just the day of the holiday—left to him, he would just send gifts and be done with it. Tim says him even showing up to Father's Day itself is enough of a gift, and gives Bruce a store-bought card and Batman tie.
Tim's difficult for the sake of being difficult. Jason’s difficult because he wants attention. Tim would be happy if Bruce only made him do bi-monthly check-ins digitally and the occasional gala for the public. Jason demands Bruce’s time and effort but only in the way he wants it.
The reason is simple; Tim grew up an only child with no supervision as long as he got good grades and didn't cause any trouble his parents would have to deal with. Jason was the youngest child to an overachiever older brother for years and was used to everything being his way.
GODDDDD FOR THE LOVE OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR BRITNEY SPEARS CAN I GET MORE SPOILED BRAT " i NEED bruce to pay attention to me 24/7/365 or I'll die again" JASON CONTENT?????
LIKE, GOD, I LOVE THIS; Listen. Sometimes older children are youngest sibling coded and it doesn't fucking matter Jason is the second oldest. This motherfucker gets away with more shit than DAMIAN and that says a LOT
LOGICALLY, (and this isn't me wanting Jason to act like the kid he never got to be, what are you talking about) the person he'd have MOST beef with would be Damian for stealing his spotlight as the youngest.
He'll absolutely act like the big brother we all know he is and love, BUT. he crosses the line at Bruce.
He sees Damian wear one of HIS old sweaters that Bruce knitted for him and they both threw a tantrum while Bruce sighed in the background till he passed out. " MY sweater."
" MY Baba."
" THAT'S IT-"
Tim????? Tim doesn't have a love language with a solid foundation yet, and he's just not used to (or expected) Bruce to be so attentive?
What do you mean you want to hear about my day? What do you mean you made a snack for me? What do you mean you love me regardless of my accomplishments?
AND YOU KNOW, I hear the " Dick drags his siblings to the manor because Bruce loves their company and loves seeing all the baby birds in one nest" crowd. I LOVE you people.
But I'm begging. Imagine you're Tim Drake and you get a furious message from your older brother crime lord about you missing family brunch.
" Literally how fucking hard it is to call and say you won't be there, fuck off Papi cut his finger trying to make that dumbass muffin you like, call home you piece of shit. Love you."
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gleasonlovesjasontodd · 4 months
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jason todd head cannons i have part four
after a while of dating when y’all go out on a dates or just a walk you “accidentally forget your jacket” and jason being the gentleman and wonderful boyfriend he is gives you his jacket but eventually he starts to catch on that you purposely left your jacket at home and doesn’t even mine cause he loves seeing you in jacket and it brings you comfort (i believe he has a leather jacket obviously but also a nice black winter coat).
he knows every freckle, mole, and scar on your body and don’t you dare ever call it ugly because
after a while of dating y’all move in and he would let you decorate the apartment because he’s doesn’t care what it looks like all he cares about is coming home from patrol and seeing you asleep waiting for him because you are his home
i believe he has good eyesight which is good because i personally can’t see
100% carries your shopping bags
i believe when he comes home from patrol and is entering through the window he knocks down the photos you have and tiny knickknacks and he curses at himself because he doesn’t wanna wake you up but you wake up anyway and glare at him and he just looks at you and is like maybe move them 😭
this is for my people who watches gossip girl iykyk 🤭🤭 i believe you would make him a sweater and sew your initial info on the sleeve with a little heart so that he is always wearing your heart on his sleeve and he would cherish that so hard and want to wear it everyday even when it’s hot outside
i believe he sleeps closer to the door for protection. ( i can’t remember if i said this yet)
definitely calls you sweetheart
this man will listen to you ramble on about anything yall could be laying down in bed and. you could be rambling about gossip that your friends told you or listen to you talk about your tv show and he will listen because he loves you so much i believe his hand would be on your waist the whole time and he’s aski questions so that you know he’s listening
at his safe houses that he has all over gotham pictures of you on his nightstand this man loves you so much you have no idea
doesn’t like to take any type of pain killers because he’s afraid he will get addicted
you help him with his blonde streak help him touch it up
he loves kissing you from behind your cheek, your neck, temple,
i just can’t get over how soft he is with you but when he’s out on patrol or with bruce dick he is cursing being sarcastic and all tuff but when he comes home to you just a big softie
this is kinda a spicy thought definitely believe he can take your bra off with one hand
THATS ALL I HAVE I’M SORRY THIS IS BAD I AM VERY TIRED BUT I KNEW I HAD TO POST THIS TONIGHT FOR YALL ALSO I MADE A INTRO PAGE LIKE ALL THE OTHER WRITERS ITS NOT SUPER CUTE BUT I TRIED xoxo gleason 🎀🎀
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blackreaderfics · 7 months
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🎃Wildcard | Jason Todd x Reader🎃
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↳ Pairing : TitansDCverse!Jason Todd x Virgin!Reader
↳ Rating : E (18+ minors dni‼️)
↳ Summary : A round of Cards Against Humanity gets a little wild during “Game Night” at Titans Tower
↳ W.C : ~3.4k
↳ A/N : welcome to spooky season. this is my first ever fic for kinktober🧡👻 idk if this is controversial buuut I love that actor’s portrayal of Jason🫣
↳ Tags + Warnings: dubcon elements, oral (male receiving), face-fucking, orgy, stripping, degradation (“slut”), coercion, alcohol consumption (beer), teabagging, bullyish!jason x shyish!reader, reader wears glasses, reader is a virgin, jason is kinda a dickhead lol, side characters (rachel, rose, gar, and conner) are there, for sake of convenience they’re all 21+
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“Oh come on,” Jason groaned exasperatedly as you set your glasses on the coffee table. “Glasses don’t fucking count!”
After a successful mission and saving the world for the hundredth time, the Titans decided to unwind in the best way they knew how: a night in with board games and beer.
As usual, Jason had tried to make the games a little bit more exciting by adding a “fun twist”. Jenga became a drinking game; drink if you make the tower fall. Uno had become “draw or dare”, you could choose to draw four cards or get off scot-free by doing a dare. 
The “grownups” of the team—Dick, Kory, Hank, and Dawn— had excused themselves to do “grownup things” leaving you and the remaining group of young adults in the living room. Currently, you were now in the middle of another particularly heated game of Cards Against Humanity, the interesting twist being the person with the best card could choose for someone to strip an article of clothing.
Jason had been targeting you the whole night; teasing you for the baggy clothes you always wore. Purposely, just to annoy him, you’d only taken off your accessories and your zip-up hoodie.
Admittedly the clothes you wore didn’t really fit you right. You’d opted to wear oversized sweaters over fitted shirts, and unflattering pants over a more hip-hugging and slimming fit. Before you became a Titan, you were shyer than you were now. It had only been recently when you started to come out of your shell and get closer to your teammates. 
“Be for real. Glasses do so count!” You retorted. You had all but discarded your outer layers and were now left in pants and a tank top. You could take up a few turns with your socks and shoes if you needed to.
“Why do you guys wear so many layers?” Gar piped up. All he had on were his boxers and a single sock. Conner, who was sitting next to him, was equally fucked, only, with no socks as a buffer.
“Because we play idiotic games like this,” Rachel remarked dryly while drawing an extra card from the pile.
You and Rachel were the only ones currently safe from any unnecessary exposure. Rachel did wear a lot of layers, and despite having lost multiple rounds, still looked very much clothed. Rose sat far off on the kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal looking on with about as much judgment as a girl with one working eye could. 
“You know, offer still stands. You can still join us, Rose,” Jason addressed the grey-haired, eye-patch-wearing girl without looking up from the cards in his hands.
“Hard pass. I’d rather watch you losers get destroyed.” She then unceremoniously returned to munching on her cornflakes.
Your gaze settled on Jason who’d shed his leather jacket and still remained in a plain black tee and jeans. He was unfairly attractive in the most basic of clothes. And though you hated his playground jibes and dirty humor, you couldn’t help but develop a little bit of a crush on the messy-haired boy. When his eyes caught yours, you could see the wheels in his brain practically turning as his smirk grew wider.
“How about…” He started slowly, “Boys versus girls. If you guys win, then we’ll get naked. If we win, you guys get naked.”
Of course he would suggest that, you thought to yourself glumly. The thought of showing your naked body to your crush didn’t excite you, it only made you more nervous.
“You’re just saying that ‘cuz you’re losing,” you said, masking your anxiety with a chug of your beer, “Conner’s literally only got his underwear left.” 
Conner, hearing his name, suddenly perked up. “For the record, I have x-ray vision. I can already see everything anywa—” Gar nudged him in the ribs to keep him from talking.
Jason shook his head. “It’s no fun if we already know who’s gonna win. Let’s vote on it then. Who here agrees to a wildcard match?” He raised his hand, and predictably the two other boys followed suit. “And who wants to play the way we’ve been playing; the boring virgin Y/N way?” He taunted cheekily.
You felt your cheeks warm again. He was never letting you live down the fact that you had confessed you were still a virgin during a past game of “Never Have I Ever”. You raised your hand and looked around for support. “Rachel,” you hissed desperately when you found she had not raised her hand. 
“Seriously? They suck at this game. It’s not like they’re gonna suddenly win out of nowhere," Rachel whispered back.
“In that case, I’ll play too,” Rose hopped off the counter and plopped on the couch next to you. 
“So nice of you to finally join us,” Jason crooned. “I’ll let you do the honors.” He passed her the deck he’d been shuffling for her to deal and sat back. 
After Rose had dealt all the cards, you looked at your hand. The deck you were playing with was a custom-made deck that Dick had ordered to round out the Tower’s impressive board game collection.
As a collective, you all pooled in ideas resulting in a deck of cards ranging from the peculiar to the mundane; from “taking shots off Nightwing’s ass”; to “Batman’s Worst Nightmare”; to names of each of your superhero aliases including all of the Justice League. For some reason, however, all the cards in your current hand were names.
“Make me laugh,” Rose ordered primly as she set down her card and folded her arms in expectation. It read: 
“If I could fuck anyone right now, I would fuck ______”
“Damn,” Rachel sounded impressed, “that’s certainly one way to start a round.”
Gar immediately threw his card down, followed by Rachel, then Jason. Only Conner and you were left.
“Time’s ticking Y/N,” Jason tapped a nonexistent watch on his wrist. Usually you would fire a comeback at him, but this time you could only frown as you chose your safest option and slid it tentatively over to the pile in the middle. 
“Time’s up, Conner,” Rose said as she gathered the cards. He passed it over face down, obviously not very happy about his choice. 
“Okay, we have a ‘Wonder Woman’,  a ‘Poison Ivy’….” She glanced around the room to see if anyone would give themselves away. “A ‘Robin’—wait...” She barked out a laugh. “I can’t not address this. I pick this one. Who fucking put down Robin?”
The room erupted into fits of laughter rivaling a high school classroom as they watched you sigh and bashfully raise your hand. 
“Oh, would you now?” Jason raised a curious eyebrow at you. 
“I-in my defense, there’s more than one Robin,” you sputtered pitifully before he could tease you further. You watched him stand up and begin to raise his shirt, giving you an eyeful of v-line and toned midriff. “W-what are you doing! I didn’t pick you!” 
Despite being only in a tank top, you felt yourself getting hot. Gar and Conner had equally toned bodies, but they weren’t affecting you the way Jason had been. Just to spite you, he kept his eyes on yours as he raised his shirt as suggestively as possible, bringing it up over his head and tossing it in a pile on his leather jacket.
“Just giving the person who wants to ‘fuck me right now’ a little preview.” He said, smile smug like he was doing charity for letting you see his 6-pack. 
Yea, real fucking Mother Theresa.
“Well, too bad I can barely see it.” You waved a hand in front of your face, “No glasses remember?”
“Come sit on my lap, mama, I’ll give you a closer look.” Jason plopped back on the sofa, abs flexing as he reclined with his legs spread wide, inviting you to sit with a pat on his thigh and a wicked smirk to match.
“Ugh, gross,” Rose made a face but appeared to be humored by Jason’s antics. 
“Anyway,” you interrupted desperately trying to change the subject. “Since I won, technically that means the girls won too. Rules are rules.” 
You had barely even finished your sentence when the boys immediately moved to take off their clothes. Your mouth went dry as they sat nonchalantly before you now, cocks resting against their stomachs.
In any other situation, you’d probably find this extremely inappropriate. They were your teammates. Sure, you lived together and had walked in on the occasional member changing or just getting out of the shower, but you were a bit buzzed off of the booze already, and this was different— you couldn’t help but stare.
“So uh…what now?” Gar’s nervous laugh broke the silence and everyone turned towards him; he blushed under the newfound attention.
“New game?” Conner suggested. He appeared to be just as clueless as Gar but with less of the blushing.
Rose looked over at you and Rachel for guidance, but seeing as neither of you knew how to react, the grey-haired girl merely shrugged back at the boys. “I’m down.”
“Ok, new game,” Jason agreed. “If you can make all of us cum in 10 minutes then the girls can get TV remote control privileges for the rest of the year.”
“All of you including Conner?” You asked brow raised, “He’s a super, that’s not fair.”
“What? It’s not like he has ‘super cum control’ too.”
“Actually, yea I—”
“Don’t answer that,” Jason cut in, annoyed. “Ok fine, I’ll give a handicap. If you can make one of us cum in 5 minutes untouched then the TV’s all yours.”
“Do you think we’re stupid, Todd?” Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. 
“Well…” He paused and tapped a finger to his chin to consider Rachel’s rhetorical question, flinching playfully when she raised her fist to jab in his direction. “Ok ok, but 5 minutes is a long time!”
“I meant the untouched part.”
“Your handicap is you can’t touch us, and our handicap is Logan.” He jabbed a thumb to gesture at Gar who looked like he was meditating to calm himself down. “He’ll probably reach the big ‘O’ before he reaches nirvana.”
“Deal, but if it’s gonna be like that then let’s raise the stakes a little.” Rose countered. “Not just remote control privileges. We get control privileges. Over you guys. If we win, you have to do whatever we say for the rest of the year.”
Jason fished his phone out from the pocket of his jacket and set the timer for 5 minutes. “And if we win, the same for us too.” He started the timer and sat back.
You, Rachel, and Rose made a beeline for Gar, who’d still had his eyes squeezed closed in the middle of the sofa.
“Fuckin’ hell, I should’ve known you’d try ‘n cheat,” Jason grumbled and stopped the timer. “No double or triple-teaming. One to one only and I get to choose the pairs.”
“And why should you be the one to choose that?” You turned toward him, trying (and failing) not to look at his dick. It was long and thick, with a slight curve and a pretty pink color at the tip.
“‘Cuz you wanna fuck me so bad,” he simpered, an impish grin playing on his lips.
“Oh god,” You rolled your eyes.
“Let him choose,” Rose challenged unfazed at Jason’s constant goalpost moving. “Whatever strategy he thinks he has isn’t gonna work.”
Jason ignored her and carried on with making the pairs. “Rachel and Conner, Rose and Gar.” He pointed directly at you, “You and me.”
Upon his directions, the three of you moved to stand in front of your now-designated partners. Finally satisfied, Jason set the timer again and pressed start. Almost immediately Rachel and Rose set to work on their mission, stripping their clothes down to their underwear. You tentatively followed suit, shimmying out of your jeans and kicking them aside. Jason eyed you, fully reclined in his seat with his hands comfortably behind his head. 
“Well, this is gonna be easier than I thought,” He yawned, looking as nonchalant as ever. 
“I doubt your porn-addled brain has ever seen a real woman before, Jason.” The taunts you directed at him should’ve sounded more confident, but instead were dulled by your nervous fidgeting at the hem of your shirt. 
This was the first time you’d ever been half-naked in front of a boy. And not just any boy, but a boy you liked. But the way he always seemed to tease you and make sexually insensitive jokes at your expense made you anxious. It wasn’t overt bullying, but the little comments he would sneak here and there were beginning to eat at you. If you showed him any more of your body, would he make fun of you even more?
“Trust me, I’ve seen plenty,” He assured, “But how ‘bout you jog my memory and demonstrate?” His gaze moved down your chest and back up to your eyes, daring you to take it off. 
You fidgeted again under his stare, feeling a sensation growing in the pit of your stomach. It was a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and something else you could quite place. When you glanced over to the other pairs, Rachel had already taken her top off and Rose was in the middle of a strip tease. 
“Four minutes,” Jason announced, with a bored expression. 
Feeling a sense of urgency, you pulled off your tank top, exposing your lacy bra. When his dick twitched, both your eyes shifted to the hardening situation in his lap. You could see him fighting the urge to touch himself now, and that gave you a burst of confidence. 
Rachel and Rose were now in between Gar and Conner’s legs, not touching them, but teasing them by blowing hot air on their cocks. You followed suit, with only three minutes left you had to do something. After all, forfeiting your will to the whims of three boys with raging hormones didn’t seem like a fun idea, especially since you knew how playfully vindictive they could get. They’d probably try and make you human furniture or whatever other sick and twisted thing they could think of. You shuddered at the thought of the kind of torture they could come up with.
You sank to your knees and sat between Jason’s legs. You watched him involuntarily swallow and sit up straighter, pulling his hands down from his head to steady himself and clutch at the couch cushion beneath him. 
“Three minutes,” Jason glanced at his phone, but he wasn’t as confident as he was before. If anything, he seemed much more distracted by your presence at his feet.
Satisfied with his change in demeanor, you only smiled at him, fluttering your lashes at him as you brought your mouth closer to his balls. You opened your mouth and exhaled softly.
He hastily brought a hand to his cock—beads of precum already spilling from its tip—and made minute motions with the pad of his thumb to calm himself down. His chest raised with shallow breaths as he looked down at you now, eyes heavily lidded with lust and wanting. 
“Fuck it—” He hissed and without warning, reached his other hand around the back of your head, pushing your nose into his balls as he began to jerk off. Your eyes widened, taken by surprise at his sudden actions.
From where you were kneeling you could already see Rachel and Rose giving their partners full-on blowjobs, completely forgetting the game they had agreed to earlier. The sensation in your stomach moved down to your clothed sex, and you could feel a tingling sensation as he rubbed your face obscenely against his balls, moaning with need.
“Open your mouth —oh fuck— please.” His voice sounded strangled as he held you at the base of his cock, masturbating desperately to chase his release.
You obliged his request, opening up and taking his balls into your mouth, looking up at him as you felt his grip on the nape of your neck tighten. He was clearly getting off from the sight of you beneath him, massaging thoroughly with the flat of your tongue. He brought your head back and, with his other hand, held his cock by the base. 
He groaned again when he saw your lips now glossy with spit. “Open f’me again, baby?” he asked despite the fact that the tip of his cock was already being pressed to your lips. Your cheeks warmed as he let out a moaning “fuuuck” when you opened your mouth again to allow him inside. He pushed your head down deeper to take all of him in, and your eyes began to water as the tip of his cock grazed the back of your throat. 
“You don’t know how fucking pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he murmured, releasing the pressure off your head for you to catch your breath. He let out a short laugh as if your gasping for air was funny to him.
“Had no idea you were such a fucking slut under all those clothes. How’re you a virgin when you’re takin’ my cock this good, hm?” His voice was gentle and soft but borderline condescending as he spoke. 
Jason brushed away a tear from your eye and leaned over to bring you into an open-mouthed and sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. A string of saliva connected at both of your lips when you separated. 
“Gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours. Keep it open,” He instructed. Within seconds he was guiding your head back on his cock, bucking up into your mouth and against your throat. You made a garbled sound, which only seemed to make him thrust harder. 
“Oh fu— that’s so fuckin’ good, baby keep doin’ that,” he moaned, though you weren’t doing much except letting your head loll up and down like a brainless doll with the support of his hand at the back of your neck. 
The living room was now filled with the pleasured moans of the three boys and the gagging ‘gluck gluck’ sounds of the three girls as each of them fucked into your mouths, getting off on the lewdly slick sounds of their cocks pistoning in and out in a relentless rhythm. Your mouths became just another hole for them to fuck.
“Shit—” His hips stuttered; he was close. He brought both hands to your head pushing it down so your nose pressed against his base. “You know how to swallow right, baby?” He grunted. 
You couldn’t respond with words readily—your nose was plugged and his cock clogged your windpipe— instead, your throat closed over his tip, as if a Pavlovian response to his question. He groaned and not shortly after, you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. 
When his softening cock finally left your mouth, you swallowed his sticky release as best as you could with your punished throat. He swiped some of the cum the had dribbled down your lips with his thumb and pushed it past your lips, making you suck it. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” he said breathlessly as he watched you suck his thumb, mesmerized by the way your eyes locked on him. A loud moan from Gar interrupted, making both you and Jason tear your eyes off each other. The green-haired boy was currently stroking his cum onto Rose’s waiting tongue. About a minute later, Conner came too. 
It was only then that you realized that Jason had come the fastest; faster than the “handicap” he’d claimed Gar to be.
“So…I’m guessing that means we won?” Rachel had already started pulling her clothes back on. Since she started dressing, everyone else mundanely followed suit. 
Jason tugged his jeans back on, “Sure. Fine. Whatever, we’re all yours for the next three months,” he sounded less than enthused but still took the time to find your discarded tank top and jeans and toss them over to you as well.
Rose threw her shirt back on and adjusted her eyepatch. “Girls, what are we thinking? Anything we want our new servants to do for us?”
“Hmm…” You tapped your chin in mock thought, giving Jason a sly look that could give one of his own cheeky smirks a run for its money. “Oh, I‘ve got a few ideas.”
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©️ blackreaderfics // dividers by cafekitsune & poison-aesthetics
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not-another-robin · 1 year
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Wayne Manor is an All Autistic Household - AKA I'm projecting
Part 1: states of dress
I've said it before and I'll say it again: if Bruce is left to his own devices he'd never wear clothes. He hates fabric and fabric hates him. He wants to be released from the shackles of human civility but unfortunately he has 6 children he doesn't want to traumatize. He still can be found in just his underwear and robe (and one sock somehow) after a particularly difficult case. Also, he forgets to take the bat suit off often.
Also previously discussed, Alfred needs to wear clothes at all times. He hates being unclothed so much it's unreal. He is also very strict about what clothes are 'appropriate' for what time. The kids can count on one hand the times they've seen him in proper pajamas, if he's woken up in the middle of the night he's decked out in robe and cap and slippers and Night Ascot. Every Christmas they wake up earlier and earlier to get him to come down in his pajamas, it has never once worked.
Dick does wear clothes but he wears any clothing that crosses his path. Steph's workout leggings? Sure. Damians xs hoodie? If it fits over his head why not. He has to expend brainpower to come up with a comprehensible outfit and too often he has no braincells to expend. Also he forgets to wear shoes. He has gone all the way to work barefoot and had to turn around.
Pre-death Jason was definitely "running around in boxers until Alfred scolded him" kid, post-death he's wearing a hoodie AND sweatpants AND fuzzy socks at all times. He runs cold, go figure. He cannot walk around on non carpeted floor without slippers or socks, he hates being barefoot. He sleeps with socks on, the monster.
Tim the pinnacle of teenage boy, He'll wear a shirt if he's already in it but he won't go through the effort to put one on, if that makes any sense. He sleeps shirtless so he stays that way most weekends. He is the prime breaker of the 'please put on a shirt while people are over' rule. Unbelievably specific but: when his hair gets long enough it starts to bother him, he'll use his shirt as a bandana to get it out of his eyes. Yes it looks ridiculous. No he doesn't care.
Damian is the only one who endeavors to remain clothed as he doesn't like not wearing them, but he has problems with changing his clothes. He routinely goes to sleep fully in the outfit from the day. If left to his own devices he would just go a week in the same outfit without changing. They had to have an extensive 'you cannot sleep in a suit' talk. He doesn't change out of his school uniform when he gets home.
Duke is yet another shirtless teenager, but he takes advantage of the Many Robes of the Wayne household. He thinks it looks cool until Damian points out he looks like a stepmom. He still wears them though, they're so soft.
Cass likes to steal hoodies. No hoodie or sweater or robe for that matter is safe, they all end up in Cass's Horde. She also denies her crimes because she thinks it's funny. Other than that she loves soft pajamas, but usually ends up in shorts. She has walked around in a sports bra sparking a lively debate as to what counts as "shirtless"
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kissitbttr · 2 years
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Eddie and his Mean cheerleader girlfriend going skinny dipping during school's trip or something, they would be such a menace😩
yes yes yes !!!
although i do think she's the actual menace in this context lol
-
“will you stop being a pussy and get naked already?” y/n yells with a playful smile, already tearing her shorts down as she runs towards the water,
“you don’t know for sure that the water is sanitary enough! it’s a lake for gods sake! can’t we just lay here and get high? baby, Higgins won’t even notice” he points at the heavy thick blanket that he just spread,
she rolls her eyes, “we’ve been doing that dozens of time! lets try something different with me edsy!” pulling her sweater off she is left with nothing but a baby blue bra with matching panties before facing him. his eyes immediately lights up with brows raised
“i don’t think i have seen you with that one” he says looking at her lingerie. “your tits gotten bigger, have they?”
“eddie!” she giggles, throwing the fleeced material at him. “language, please”
he catches it in a second, wicked grin on his handsome face. “what? you’ve heard far worse from me than the word ‘tits’. come on, can you just—get out from there! ever heard of pneumonia?”
“sure” she shrugs, chills running down her spine. “get in here! the water isn’t even that cold” she tries to convince him when she knows it’s the exact opposite,
the water is super freezing.
his head shakes, hands on his hips. “nope. sorry sweetheart not gonna happen. I made up my mind.”
she quirks an eyebrow. “are you sure?” her teasing tone comes to play as she keeps an eye contact with her man.
her hands slowly snaking its way to her back before unclasping the bra. she lowers the straps and throw it away to his direction. then her fingers move down slowly to the waistband of her panties, tucking it down like she’s giving a strip show. his eyes nearly pops out of his sockets, quickly looking left and right to make sure no one is watching
“are you out of your damn mind, woman?!” he exclaims, hurriedly walking over to her naked body before —trying his best— covering it, despite the water seeping through his jeans,
“what if jason and the dickheads passes by and caught a glimpse of your tits and that?!” he nods his head to her bare crotch. “no wait, scratch that. my girls. my pretty things.” he emphasizes, hugging her body while he looks over to the back. “or steve harrington? because there’s no fucking chance i would let that happen! you and i both know he has a thing for you!”
“everyone has a thing for me, it’s not news. but it’s you who I’m with right?” she says, trying to console him. yet eddie just looks at her in disbelief for that comment and it makes her giggle,
she presses both hands on his face. planting a soft kiss on his lips to calm him down. “you’re so adorable. but trust me, no one’s definitely coming, baby. they’re probably far too busy burning some mary janes or jacking off to that one blonde camp counselor in the cabin. although jason voorhees maybe…”
“okay you know what, that’s not funny.” he answers sternly, looking over her shoulders to make sure no serial killer on the loose,
“ugh! lighten up you little shit!“ she groans. “I’m literally naked with my tits out and all, and you’re not even going to budge? get naked with meeee” she whines, giving him her best puppy dog eye and a pout, tugging his shirt a little.
eddie isn’t gonna lie. the sight of her with dampen hair, naked and wet body begging for it to be touched is turning him on like crazy. not like it’s all new to him. she could be wearing a freaking potato sack and he’d still think she’s the sexiest girl ever.
plus, she looks so damn cute doing that with her lips
“fine” he grumbles with an eye roll. discarding all of his clothes in quick motion. “you’re so lucky i love you” with a mumble, he throws away the rest of his clothes
“i love you baaack” she sings, letting out a playful moan when she sees his naked self. “oof, hubba bubba! look at that ladies and gentlemen. hottest rockstar alive about to get freaky with his girl! better hide your wives!”
“don’t hide your cock from me!” she swats his hands when he’s awkwardly trying to cover himself,
he blushes, then suddenly hissing when the water hits him. sending chills down his spine.“fuck, you were lying weren’t you. It’s so cold! how are you even holding up?”
“i don’t actually” she starts giving feather light kisses on his chest. feeling him shiver under her touch. “but it’s a good thing we can keep each other���s warm right? and maybe we can try to fuck under water?” her arms then move down to hug his torso
eddie’s cock grows hard at the thought. even more when he feels her bare pussy rubbing against the base of his shaft. gulping softly when she’s batting those pretty lashes at him. looking so innocent when he knows damn well she isn’t,
he smiles down at her, burying his palms in her hair while he lightly massages the scalp. her eyes shut in pure bliss,
“you’re going to be the death of me sweetheart.”
-
requests are open!
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The beefy bois (Michael, Jason, Bubba) with a s/o who sews/knits/crochets
For Eg, knitting a sweater for Pamelas gravesight and making another for Jason so they can feel more connected
Making Christmas sweaters or hats for the Sawyers
Making a doll of Laurie so Michael can stab it :)
Michael, Jason and Bubba with an s/o who can knit, sew and crochet
Michael Myers
If you make him any clothes, he will act grumpy about it, but he will wear them. Hope you don't mind them getting a bit of blood on them. Apart from that, you can fix his overall when it gets damaged during his sprees, which he absolutely appreciates. And the small doll of Laurie you made him as a gag gift was also strangely appreciated, in Michael's own twisted way.
Jason Voorhees
Jason actually tears up a bit when you hand him the blue knitted sweater you made; a replica of his mother's sweater, tailored to his size. He will not wear it often, too afraid of it getting dirty or damaged, but he will get it out for special occasions. Your other selfmade gifts for him would find much more use; scarves and mittens and hats for the winter months are always welcome gifts for him. If you want him even more happy, you could try fixing his childhood teddy bear; it is so old and well-loved that the fabric has gotten thin and worn in some places, but you would have no problem patching it up, right?
Bubba Sawyer
If you knit things for Bubba, you also gotta knit things for the rest of the family. That's just an expectation that Bubba has. But that's fine; family takes care of each other, after all. Plus it is something productive to spend your time on once the daily chores are done. Which is good because entertainment opportunities are scarce out here. And there's something so nice and homely about sitting down to knit or crochet a bit in the evening while your loving cannibal husband keeps you company.
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ivanzplaid · 9 months
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Ok so I have this idea but I don't know how to write it. Can I get head cannons for Vincent Sinclair, Amanda Young, Billy Lenz, Otis Driftwood, Doomhead and Jason Voorhees if that's not too much. So they give their s/o a piece of clothing and their s/o returns it but they sprayed their perfume/colonge on it so it smells like them and the slashers reactions to finding that out. Thank you <3
im clearing out my inbox and i saw this and i screamed because I LOVE THIS PROMPT OMG??? adorable i love them all snd im screaming, you always give the best requests 😭
the slashers you chose are adorable theyre so perfect for this btw. ive been having some bill mosely brain rot so im literally rolling. i am adding leo barnes because yk i gotta spread my gospel about niche little characters i love, sorry man✊ but all other slashers are included!!
there are only 10-12 hcs per character this time because theres so many people my b💔
requests r open, masterlist is up!!!
Slashers + Leo Barnes x Gn!Reader + Giving back clothes (that smells like the reader)
Warnings: fluff, some wiseass comments from otis and doomhead, some trauma mentions from amanda, vincent & leo's source, like a LITTLE nsfw in leo's section.... mainly toothrotting fluff imma keep it real
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Vincent Sinclair
vincent loves to be reminded of you, he loves to see himself in you ( or you in him ) because hes proud to have someone in his life as loving and gracious as you are, so he didnt hesitate to give his s/o a piece of his clothing
you wearing one of his sweaters, or even sweatpants, has him lightly smiling beneath his mask. he thinks you look like a piece of art in it, and wants to hold and touch you because of that
so after a few days of having it and wearing it, it was bound to smell like you. but just to play with him, you sprayed a little bit more of your cologne on, knowing he'll always think of you when wearing it
when he receives it, hes left wanting to be with you. youre on his brain, youve left him longing for your presence, something in his brain clicked. he'll be laying his head on your shoulder and laying with you, putting his head in the crook of your neck, or even painting you
he loves to be reminded of you, youre a comfort for him. hes unstable and unwell at times, so if youre ever not there or hes stalking his next victims, hes reassured by the thought of you. that youll be waiting or coming back for him soon
will steal your cologne to spray on himself sometimes. he cant hate, it smells good, you have taste. its a motivator for him sometimes, using it to get things done or complete projects that hes lost his spark on
has fallen asleep with his clothes on his face when you werent in bed with him. he didnt mean to, but he was so relaxed and tired, at ease for once, that he dozed off thinking of you
bo will think its ridiculous how he treasures those clothes and wears them more often, but vincents nature leads him to leaning back on you, and this helps with his anxiety or displeasure at times
hes reminded of certain memories you two have together when he smells it, reminiscing in those times. this may spark him to think of some more date ideas. it lowkey makes him more romantic because he wants to be greater for & with you
because of his childhood, stability and reassurance are things he needs, and this really helps him, both in the relationship and in his own life
Amanda Young
she is more than happy to give you her clothes, shes used to sharing and to have someone genuinely wanting her and to be reminded of her is something big
now she is a bit excited and suprised. she probably thinks you didnt mean to do this, and that your cologne/perfume accidentally rubbed off on the clothes she gave you, but its a happy suprise
is almost ashamed of how long she wears / doesnt wash the clothes. its comforting to know that you wore it, and lived in it, and was happy while doing so. she likes to have happy memories connected to her belongings, so this is meaningful
"You should wear my clothes more often- here," she says as she hands you a mound of stuff she thinks youd like. shes trying to be inconspicuous about it but you let out a slight giggle as you of course take it
likes to spritz herself with your perfume/cologne once before the day, it may not be the entirely same thing but she loves to copy what you do
will be more relaxed and in a better mood because of it, she'll be smiling a bit more often and giggling, and may even be in a lighter mood when shes out doing apprentice jobs
once she finds out you did it on purpose, she laughs and thinks its sweet how you thought if her and wanted to do this for her
will start to do it when you lend her clothes, making it a little tradition to spritz her perfume on anything you give her. it makes you laugh about how she picked up on it so quickly, but atleast your laundry hamper smells good now
the other apprentices and john start to notice her new perfume/cologne smell and are a bit curious, but she brushes it off. the others recognizing your perfume/cologne make her prideful to have and be with you, youre the thing shes most proud of
"I.. uhm, bought you more of your cologne/perfume, I noticed you were running low. And I know you really like it." she'll begin to memorize the brand and ones that you might like, surprising you with them as little gifts
Otis Driftwood
he loves sharing clothes, in fact, you two share a clothes drawer/closet. he thinks the moment you two shared a room was the moment your stuff was his and his was yours, he has a bad time with boundaries
he sees you one day in his t shirt and laughs, he thinks its funny that you wear his stuff casually. out of spite, he may steal one of your tops and parade around in it like an ass, but he does love seeing you in his stuff
however, when he gets it back, and is suffocated by your signature smell, he has two reactions. one is: "Aw sweetie what the hell *violently and dramatically coughs* im suffocatin' over here!" (he loves it)
and two is: "Oh baby.. you smell so good.. C'mere." he is going to be stuck on you and drunk on your cologne/perfume, yes he will be much more sexual, yes he is going to hover around you, entertaining you like this
he can never get enough of his s/o, and this only makes it worse. hes always thinking about you because the smell is always lingering in the back of his head
he'll get distracted easily and often forget what hes doing because hes wanting to be with you, or hes thinking about holding you. it'll be to the point where hes making his art pieces, configuring victims in the way he wants, and he just trails off
will hold you down and just rest his head in the crook of your neck so he can be at peace and smell your cologne/perfume, its calming to him and he does it to ground his mind alot
can and will bite you, little lovebites around your neck and collarbone because he has the urge to be close to you from your signature scent, its like primal urges with him
"Ohh Darlin'.. yer teasing me by smelling that good.." has very bad self restraint when it comes to you, he just loves you so much that he wants to show you
if grandpa hugo gives you any shit for wearing and 'fuckin up' otis's clothes, otis will not hesitate to defend you and call him delusional. is 100% at your defense because he doesnt let anyone shit talk you
Leo Barnes
leo may not care as much, he notices when youre actively wearing his stuff, but doesnt notice if some of his shirts are gone. he is a typical guy when it comes to that
however when he sees you in his clothes, its semi-comforting. its almost nice because he feels like youre protected, a vibe of "they're mine". hes a possessive and protective man, especially after his son died, he has an urge for you to be with him, and this is a way for you to be 'with him' in a sense
loves to come up behind you and rest his chin on your head, rubbing your arms as he secretly relishes in the sight of you. he is a is a secret physical contact love language guy if youve been in the relationship for a bit, it comforts him to know that youre there with him
when you finally give him back his clothes, he unsuspectingly finds out they smell like your cologne/perfume as he was going to wash them (which he quickly stopped, putting them to his nose to confirm his initial thought)
a sprinkle of nsfw... he secretly brings the clothes you spritzed your cologne/perfume on to his bed, shutting the door before laying down, holding it to his nose and jerking off, reminiscing on how tempting you are to do this to him, he'll be sure to confront you about it.. after hes finished
you'll see him immediately wear those clothes (casually of course, he cant let you think hes gone obsessed). its honestly therapeutic for him because of his trauma with loss of a loved one, feeling out of control and like he needs to have a sign of you with him
he'll confront you soooo normally about it, laughing and taunting you a bit about how you did this to torture him, since you knew he wouldnt be able to resist you. its loosened him up and made him a bit more soft. he'll laugh as he speaks and raises his eyebrows amused as you try to explain yourself
"So.. You drowned my clothes in your cologne/perfume? Not complaining.. the opposite actually. I'll be sure to get some more while I'm out," acting so nonchalant as he begins to mentally note the brand, hes now addicted to it because it represents you
will fall asleep with his head in the crook of your neck, or on your shoulder, because the smell comforts him to the point where hes able to be vulnerable, because he knows its you
almost makes him more possessive, he feels that youre his. the scent makes him more serious/stern when others are around, its literally primal for him, he cant help it
Doomhead
he thinks this is ALLL ridiculous, but isnt against it, quite the opposite, seeing you in his clothes makes him proud, and even if he teases you for it, he sees it as a sign of loyalty, and he ruffles/pats your hair when he sees it
"Well dontcha look nice now.. glad to see youre wasting my clean clothes" painfully an ass and sarcastic, but in one minute hes about to massage your shoulders because he needs to touch you since you look so perfect
if youve taken his sweatshirt or t shirt, he loves to grab you by the collar of it and pull you close, feeling a lot more in control snd dominant than usual
when you give him back his clothes, he tosses it aside, not using it or seeing what you did till he goes to wear it again (he js a STINKY man lets be real). when he finslly smells it, he laughs hard, knowing that you did it to get a reaction out of him, and thats what you'll get
he thinks its amusing, and he'll confront you in the most dramatic manner possible. putting and arm out and cornering you before slyly smiling, taunting you as he casually holds out the clothes
"Very amusing toots.. I love what youve done with it. You think I wouldnt notice?" after that hes going to drag you away, teasing you and giving you lovebites, tracing his finger over your shoulders, he wants you to know how much he likes it
can and will wear it to 31 if he can, hes not gonna tell you he did, but smelling you jolts him with motivation, especially when he knows he has a long night ahead of him
secretly steals your cologne/perfume if hes missing you, will snort it like its coke, but he needs it to stay stable for the moment
will hold onto you as you fall asleep in bed now, his grip is tight, he wants to fall asleep and wake up to your smell, it is oddly comforting and gives him a deep ass nights sleep
is a bit more in affection now because hes growing, he wants to be closer to you in any situation, his connection and relationship has grown deeper strangely because of this
Jason Vorhees
jason has very.. limited options for clothing, but his mother taught him well, so he shares like a gentleman. he'll even put it on you, gently placing his coat on your shoulders, or sliding you into his loose t-shirt
it brings him soso much joy to see you in his stuff, hes happy to know that you love it too, that you love him. seeing that its a bit big makes him smile, its funny how you still wear it even if it doesnt exactly fit
flaunt the outfits to him and he'll worship you, thinking of how good you look and how hes going to be lending you a lot more clothes, especially if you like it. if youre happy, hes happy
when he gets the clothes back, going to fold them back up to put away, he gets a sniff of them, and to his surprise, they smell lovely, they smell immensely like you. at first he assumes its just because you wore it so much, but he does inside love how abundant the cologne/perfume is, he relishes in it
is veryyy happy to see you the next morning, in an even greater mood than before, hugging you and picking you up everywhere, something about you is just a pick-me-up for him
youll see him wearing the outfit you had on.. no relation to anything, he just takes inspiration. however youll catch him holding a sleeve up and closing his eyes, and thats when you question him, which leads him to trying to shrug the topic off
youll say that you put some of your own cologne/perfume on for a little surprise, and thats when he realizes how lucky he is to be with you, he thinks youre so considerate for it, it almost reminds him of his mother, because she used to spray her perfume everywhere, giving him soft memories about him growing up with her, so this behavior is almost encouraged and is very comforting for him
he may start to want his own cologne after this, to match with you, and so he can smell good for you. he'd want the scents to match, and for his to compliment yours, because its the only right way in his mind
hes proud to be so lucky to have someone like you, wearing your cologne/perfume often, and spritzing it in moderation for when hes out hunting, still wanting to be reminded of you
he likes to have you lay on him while he sleeps, so that he can be close, trace your features, and be at totally contempt with his life
Billy Lenz
now billy is ecstatic about you taking his clothes, hes jumping off the walls and screaming in joy because you wanna even touch and be seen in his stuff, since hes used to being treated like a monster
he wants you to show him IMMEDIATELY what you look like in it, and hes going to be all touchy touchy, admiring you from every angle, maybe even stealing someones camera to get a photo
"Billy's pretty little piggy.. in his own shirt!! Too pretty.. too handsome..." he says as hes breathing heavily in your face, thinking hes acting normal
hes basically tracking when hes gonna get the clothes back because either way hes going to go insane and smell them and wear them and hold them
when he smells your cologne/perfume, he freezes in excitement before running to you, asking what you did and how you need to spray him with it and how he needs to hold you and cuddle you now because he needs to smell it again
when youre gone hes rummaging through your room, endlessly searching for your cologne/perfume, and once he finds it, not only is he going to douse the attic in it, he may slip a teensy bit into his drink... yes hes insane, he wants your essence to be inside him
charges at you and clings because hes in a trance of his own mind, your scent making him intoxicated for you now, hes obsessed with you and everything about you
speaking of this, he begins to notice the even littler details about you, like the hair wash you use or the selfcare/nail polish/clothing type you wear, he gets excited from memorizing every little detail about you
will growl if someone is getting too close to you and complimenting you & your cologne/perfume, even if he cant really be seen with you, he wants and needs everyone to know that hes claimed, and has got you
"Billy's piggy is so intricate... so detailed! Billy just wishes he could live in your skin for a day.. to see what you see!" morbid, yes, but he genuinely wants to see what you see, because if your little details are that impressive to him, he believes that what you choose and do in your ever day life is even better
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ecoamerica · 21 days
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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slasher-male-wife · 1 year
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Slashers with an s/o who steals their clothes
I got this idea from someone writing this about cod characters if I find their account I'll tag them for credit but I thought this was a very cute idea. I tried to stick to bigger slashers so it makes more sense that a wider net of reader can fit in their clothes.
Includes: The Sinclair brothers (separate), Jesse Cromeans, and Jason Voorhees
Warnings: Vague mentions of different body sizes for reader, mostly fluff, possessive language used, reader is heavily implied to be shorter than most characters in this
Lester Sinclair
He'd be very happy to share clothes with you. If you're a similar or smaller size than him he adores seeing you in his clothes. Doesn't matter what of his you're wearing he loves it.
If you're a bigger size than him he'll honestly steal your clothes with permission, "Hey sweetpea is it ok if I wear one of your shirts?" You'll often say yes.
If you get comments from either of his brothers he'll defend you. Why should they care if you're wearing one if his shirts? What does it matter?
Your wardrobe will really consist of his clothes if you're a similar size to him once you're officially a new member of Ambrose. He could give you clothes of victims but he honestly doesn't want you wearing their clothes. You wearing his clothes makes him feel more connected to you.
Bo Sinclair
He's very smug about it when he sees you wearing some of his clothes. Oh you thought you could just wear one of his shirts without getting him to be an absolute ass about it? You're wrong.
"Well I don't remember telling you that you could wear my clothes darlin'." But don't try to take it off when he says that, "I'm not saying you can't wear it. Just ask me first."
If he's feeling really possessive that day he'll have you walk around the house or the town in all of his clothes if you can fit into them. He likes how something as simple as the shirt you're wearing can tell him and you just who you "belong" to.
Like with Lester, when you first really become a resident of Ambrose he'll offer up some of his old clothes for you to wear. You're probably going to opt for clothes from victims but when the time rolls around that you wear one of his shirts he's not letting you hear the end of it.
Vincent Sinclair
Please wear one of his sweaters he's begging you. Well not really begging out right but when he sees you wearing some clothes of his he stops in his tracks and picks up his sketch book immediately.
Loves it if his sweater is baggy at all on you. Also loves it if his sweater fits you just right. No matter how his clothes fit on you he's taking time out of his day to memorialize it. Whether that be by filming you in his clothes, drawing you, painting you, sculpting you, etc, he's going to do it.
If he can fit into your clothes he's stealing them too. He'll avoid getting paint and wax all over them and if you're wearing his clothes he'll make sure you wear ones that don't have wax and paint all over them.
Won't force you to wear his clothes when you're first staying with him because he doesn't want to scare you more than he has to.
Jesse Cromeans
This man really only wears a suit and everything else he owns is black. I'd assume he owns countless black suits that just look the same so if you're into black suits you're in luck. But if he ever saw you trying on one of his suits he'd laugh with you about how big it is. Because Jesse is like 6'7 and a mountain of a man.
Would stop to admire you if you're wearing one of his just regular shirts or whatever pants he sleeps in. Let's be honest, he has cameras everywhere in his house so if he's out on "business" and you're wearing his clothes, he expects you to be wearing one article of his clothes when he gets home.
When he knows he's going to be gone for awhile he'll douse some of his clothes in his signature scent and conveniently leave them laying around for you to find.
But when you are wearing his clothes he can't keep his hands off of you, unless you tell him to stop, then he will. But if you seem ok with it or if you go as far as to tell him you want him to hold you even more he's going to have you in his lap all night long.
Jason Voorhees
When it's cold outside he's already giving you his coat to wear. He worries so much about you all the time and he wants to make sure that you're comfortable Y/n.
He finds sharing clothes to be very intimate and very romantic. When he notices you wearing his clothes he gets all red faced and has to step out of the room for a moment.
If you're smaller than him he finds it very cute how baggy his clothes are on you. But if you're similar in size to him he just adores how good you look in his clothes.
A lot of your clothes come from victims at first and Jason wishes he could get you better clothes, but when you start sharing clothes he feels a little better about it. Also likes how it serves as a reminder that he's always there for you.
1K notes · View notes
amomentsescape · 3 months
Note
The shirt headcannon was great, but what if the slashers had matching shirts with their S/O reader? Also if ya in one of the snowy storm states stay safe! ❄ 🧊 ⛸
Slashers React to Couple's T-Shirts
Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Feat. Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, & Stu
You can find the OG T-Shirt request here.
A/N: Such a cute request! And yes, those dealing with the crazy weather, please stay safe! (Also, I couldn't find a better GIF option so I just went with the same one again)
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Freddy Krueger
Yep, he wears it over his sweater
Can you expect anything less from Freddy though?
He really enjoys matching with you
He even let out some chuckles when you showed them to him for the first time
"I'm gonna need to make myself a closet if you keep up with this"
He definitely finds the shirts a tad bit cheesy, but he's not complaining
He happily wears the shirt with pride
He becomes a bit upset if you show up not wearing it though
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Michael Myers
What even is this?
The first shirt was already bad enough, but this?
He doesn't even like cats
Just gives you a deadpan look
Will let you put yours on, but absolutely refuses to wear his
Barely even wants to touch it to be honest
You quite literally have to force it over his head
And even then, he just complains the whole time
Embrace the moment while you have it, because there's absolutely no way you're going to get that shirt on him again
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Jason Voorhees
He smiles wide at these
One of the things he loves is the size difference between you two
It makes him feel like a protector
So you gifting him MATCHING shirts just makes him feel all giddy inside
The fact that they point out the size difference is a plus
He arguably likes this one more than the last (since he actually understands what it means)
He only wears the shirt when you wear yours though
If your washing it or don't have it on, don't expect Jason to be wearing his
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Thomas Hewitt
Thomas absolutely fell in love with Beauty and the Beast when you first showed it to him
He didn't think he'd ever find someone like you, but here you were, and that made him relate to the Beast quite a bit
So when you showed him these, he was ecstatic
Immediately puts it on and refuses to take it off for a couple days
Even in the blistering heat of Texas, he wears it
Will always give you a hug when he sees you wearing yours
By the end of the week however, his shirt is noticeably much dirtier than yours
They barely match anymore, but the meaning is still there
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Bubba Sawyer
Bubba is all giddy when he sees these
He just thinks the dinosaurs are absolutely adorable
And he honestly gets the joke pretty quickly!
Will insist you both put them on at the exact same time, doing a little spin for each other
He's clapping his hands and bouncing up and down
Will become pretty protective of the garment though
If anyone besides you gets a little too close to him, he puts his arms out as if saying "don't touch the shirt"
He truly finds the shirts a symbol of your relationship, so if any stain or tear occurs, he will literally have a meltdown
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Brahms Heelshire
He doesn't find them as funny as you do
But he likes the idea of you matching together, so he allows it
Will try to put your shirt on instead in hopes you don't notice
You do
He thinks you look cute, but he won't admit it
He's still mad that you think you're the boss
I mean, who makes the literal rules around here??
But the moment you baby him and tell him just how good the shirt looks on him, he gives in and accepts his fate
He does wear the cardigan over it, however
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Norman Bates
You know Norman isn't one for loud garments
So you thought something simplistic and meaningful would be the best bet
When he first sees the shirts, he smiles and says they look extra comfy for you two
But when he sees your anniversary on the sleeves, he melts
Thinks it's super romantic and gives you a sweet kiss as a thank you
He wears the shirt all the time
Under his button ups, going to bed, lounging around
And you can tell he becomes extra happy when you have yours on too
It's just like having a cute reminder of your love for each other
And Norman is all about that
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Billy Loomis
Billy had been talking about getting a new sweatshirt for forever now
So when you came across these, you knew you had to get them
Billy isn't usually one for cheesy things, but he can't stop the small smile that forms on his face
"You're a lifesaver, babe"
Will try it on and practically melt into it
Doesn't specifically ask, but he'll give you a look basically telling you to put yours on too
When he sees you both matching, he can't even lie that he likes it
Will snuggle up with you and thank you
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Stu Macher
Stu immediately lets out a big laugh when he sees them
His amusement is quickly deflated when he fully reads the shirts
"Hey!"
You know he's just joking though, since he still has that huge grin on his face
"You're clearly the stupid one, right?"
You just give him a joking slap to the arm
Will make you put yours on with him and pulls out his camera
Takes a million pictures with you and the shirts, finding them hilarious
He definitely insists on wearing them in public since it makes it even more obvious that you're his
He just doesn't want to wear them around Billy
He'll make fun of him
313 notes · View notes
jasontoddsdarling · 3 months
Text
snow angels
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— casts: jason todd x reader, aurora todd (my kid oc)
— words: 1,515
— tags: fluff, winter, family fic, family fluff, kid fic
— summary: It's Aurora Todd first winter and you two decide she should experience the ultimate first time under the snow: building some snowmen and one or two castles. And apparently also snow angels along the way.
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Heavy snowfall from yesterday—that kept everyone inside the house all day long—resulted in a thick layer of snow in the backyard. You, Jason, and your fourteen months old daughter, Aurora, included. You two even built her a blanket fortress from the pile of her soft baby blankets. She was very fond of it.
Today, Jason and you decide to bring her outside. 
It's her first winter, thus the first time she will experience the snowfall that blanketed the city like icing sugar dusted on a beignet.
Earlier, Jason had shoveled the snow that piled up in front of the front and back door. Thankfully, it wasn't blocking the doors that bad or else you'd feel bad about not helping him—even though he had insisted on doing it himself because she was cranky waking up and you'd have to feed her.
Now, though, your daughter is so awake and definitely not cranky anymore.
Jason has put his shovel back to the garage and changed his clothes to newer one—he had managed to sweat and drenched his sweater, and he's currently sporting a new sweater that matches the ones that you and your daughter wear.
“Papa.”
You put Aurora on her colorful foam puzzle mat. Jason, who is just getting out of your bedroom, smiling when he spots her.
“Who's going to play with snow today?”
Jason sits down on the edge of the mat and he beckons his daughter to his lap.
Aurora enthusiastically walks toward him—with her brand new baby boots that you just put on her, a big smile with her four small teeth showing.
“Nou.”
She perches her little legs on one of his thighs. You gasp and cannot help but grin. Did she just say a new word just now? Nou. Snow.
Jason beams. You can see his eyes shine with proudness.
“Yeah, snow. Snow! You, Mama, and Papa will go outside and we can build some snow castles and snowmen. Now, you need to wear these warm mittens first, okay?”
You observe the two loves of your life while packing a little thermos of jasmine tea to drink outside. These two always without fail put a smile on your face.
And oh, Jason is wearing gloves with the same color theme too because, of course, he would not want to be excluded in the matching outfits shenanigans of you and your daughter. We've to match as a cute little family, Jason had said so almost a year ago—after for the third time you and Aurora had matching outfits and he was being excluded; which in your defense, most husbands don't really care about matching outfits with their baby daughter, but you learnt it wasn't the case with Jason.
Jason tugs Aurora's mittens to make sure it's right before holding her in his arms and standing up, walking towards you who stands beside the dining table.
“Come on, Mama.” He squishes his cheek on Aurora's, whispering to pretend as if it's your daughter who’s saying that.
Aurora giggles. “Mama, mama.”
You bend down a little to kiss her rosy cheeks—and Jason steals a kiss from you when you stand straight after that—and the three of you are ready to mess with snow.
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Jason has finished building one snow castle just now. It's a cool snow castle, in your opinion—considering he's only using some plastic snow toys for kids that you got for Aurora.
The kid in question sits on your lap, and is currently playing with the scallop shell plastic mold and making her nth crooked shell shaped snows with so much interest, completely oblivious to what her dad has been doing.
“Rora, look!” You pat her tiny leg gently. “Look. Papa has built you a little snow castle!”
You point your finger at the 1 meter tall snow figure. When Aurora looks up from her stuff, her eyes brighten and she moves her arms and legs excitedly, wiggling and trying to stand up from your lap.
You help her stand on her own little feet, her tiny boots scrunch the snow.
“Papa. Nou.”
Jason—who just put a twig on the center of the castle as a fake flag—grins. He waved his hands, beckoning her to walk towards him and the snow castle.
“Papa, papa.”
Aurora walks giddily.
You walk at a snail's pace to ensure that she steps safely, because you know sometimes babies and toddlers can be quite clumsy, and your daughter is no exception.
Aurora is two meters before landing herself in his dad's arm when, instead, she's landing backwards on a pile of fluffy snow with a very dull thud.
“Rora!”
Jason and you immediately shout at the same time and in less than two seconds both of you are in front of her.
Aurora is silent for a second, that you are almost panicking, but then she bursts into a fit of giggles. She moves her arms and legs in ups and downs motion, unknowingly making herself a snow angel.
“Mama, Papa.”
Aurora waves her mittens clad tiny hands. She wants you two to do what she's doing.
“Well, I guess we're making snow angels too.” 
“I know. I am just glad she isn't crying.”
You release your breath you know you were holding.
You lie down beside your daughter on one side and Jason on her other side and you two proceed to make your own snow angels.
After it is quite deep, Jason gets up from where he's lying down and takes some photos of you and Aurora with his phone and instant camera he hides inside his deep coat pockets.
“One, two, three. Smile!”
And so, the next ten minutes, Jason takes a lot of photos of you and Aurora in front of the snow castle.
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“These are so cute.”
It's 8:30 pm. You and Jason just put Aurora to sleep in her room, you're lying on bed with your head propped on a pillow and Jason's shoulder.
You scroll on Jason's gallery, currently landing on the selfie of you, Jason, and little Aurora in front of the snow castle and the two snowmen on each side of the castle—snowmen that later the three of you built after snow angels' antics. The snowmen are guards, Jason had said.
Jason's shuffling and looking at the printed photos he (and you) took with the instant camera, while occasionally brushing your raven black hair that fans the pillow.
“Lovely snow angels.” Jason mutters.
You laugh. You immediately scroll towards one picture of the three of you as snow angels. “Yeah, that one was cute too. It's fortunate that you brought your tripod outside so we could take a photo with the three of us as snow angels.”
“I meant this.”
Jason shows you one printed photo from the instant camera.
“Oh.”
It is a photo of you and Aurora as snow angels, the sunlight reflecting on the snow and bouncing a very faint light on your smiling faces.
“That’s…” You almost can't say a thing. “So beautiful.”
“I know.”
“You're very talented, Jason.” You look up and give him a soft smile.
“It's not as much talent as what's the subject of the photography.”
“Hey.” You can't help but chide him.
“It's true.”
“It's not.”
“It is.” Jason says with a finality. He puts all—the photos except the one on your hand—on the nightstand beside him.
“Both of you are just the loveliest snow angels. My literal angels.”
“Oh, Jason…”
“My only angels. You and Aurora.”
That's it.
You drag his face towards you with one of your hands behind his neck. You kiss him deeply and slowly. You can feel his pulse beneath your fingers and run your hand up and down his nape.
Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.
Jason shudders and he kisses you deeper, if it's possible, and you let out a small moan.
At last, you separate your faces from each other to inhale some air.
“Jason, I love you so much.” You caress his jawline, looking at his perfect shade of viridian eyes.
“I love you more.” He looks at you as fondly. Sometimes it's hard to breathe everytime he does that.
“I love you more and more.”
“I love you–”
And that's where you two hear a cry from Aurora's room. She's awake.
“I think trying to tell us she's agreed that I love you more.” Jason snickers.
You huff, moving your body to get up from the bed. “She's trying to tell us she wants to co-sleep with us again tonight.”
“That's fair too. Still, I love you more and more and more, though.”
“It’s me, actually, but I will let you win.”
You almost land your feet on the floor when Jason immediately stands up.
“Let me get her or I love you more and more and more.”
You can't believe your husband's antics but you smile ear to ear nonetheless.
“Fair. Go get her, Papabear.”
“On it, Mamabear.”
Jason shouts I love you more and more and more when he's in another room with Aurora's “Papa” accompanying it.
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mariea's note: guess who decide to go all in and repost the fic from my ao3 here? anyway here's the og appearance of my jason todd's kid oc aurora "rora" todd 🤍
78 notes · View notes
jankwritten · 3 months
Text
Jasico Bingo Challenge: Boyfriend Sweater
When Nico walks into the dining pavilion wearing a golden yellow sweater, Percy does a double-take. Actually, it’s a triple-take: first, he thought it was a new Apollo kid, then he realized it was Nico, then he realized it was Nico. Wearing a color. 
Is the world ending again? Was there something really wrong with the milk in his cereal? What in the everloving Hades was going on?! 
Nico sits down at table 13, unbothered as ever, and pulls the sleeves of the hoodie up. It’s way too big on him, like Big Bird shed and some poor fucker decided Nico di Angelo needed the empty muppet skin in his wardrobe. 
(Is it Nico? Maybe some changeling creature kidnapped their resident son of Hades and has decided to take his place? Maybe Percy needs to go over there and test him out, y’know, knick him with some iron or something to see if he burns. If it’s an imposter, though, they’re doing a piss-poor job. Is it an intentionally bad job? Gods, it’s barely eight AM on a Tuesday, does he seriously have to go save Nico from somewhere and kill a monster wearing his face? That does not sound like his ideal Tuesday, if he’s really real. He’ll totally do it, but he won’t like it, and maybe he should start planning how to take out a creature like-) 
“I can see the mountain you’re building,” Annabeth says, popping Percy’s strangely detailed daydream of hunting down and killing a weird, half-Nico, half-demon gremlin creature. He blinks the image out of his eyes and looks up at her, her hip resting against the edge of his table. 
She looks amused. He squints. “Nico’s been bodysnatched.” 
“Mm, no,” she says easily, with a shake of her head. “Nico’s wearing a jacket.” 
“A yellow jacket.” Percy looks at the son of Hades again. He just- can’t wrap his head around it. He hasn’t seen Nico willingly wear a color since the guy was ten years old. “A yellow jacket that’s, like, twice his size.” 
“It’s a molehill, seaweed brain. A jacket’s just a jacket.” 
“But it’s yellow.” 
“What was your nightmare about?” 
Percy physically recoils at the non sequitur, tilting back in his seat incredulously. His- what? His nightmare? What does his nightmare have to do with a jacket, anyway, that’s got nothing to do with this. 
He folds his arms on the table and makes a face. “That’s unrelated.” 
Annabeth’s mouth raise at the corners, her eyes watching him like an all-knowing hawk. An owl, three-sixty vision and nothing but questions, who, who? 
She pets through his hair and pushes her weight back up. As she draws her hand back, she taps his cheek, then his chin, and says, “just leave him alone, then.” 
Percy watches her walk back to her table. When she sits, he buries his face in his arms and groans. 
“Jason has also been bodysnatched,” Percy hisses to Annabeth during pottery class. 
“What makes you say that.” She throws her lump of clay at the pedestal in front of her and gives Percy the same look she gave him this morning. 
Percy decides to ignore that look, because that is the look of reason and he is far beyond that now. “He was wearing this black jacket with, like, skulls in hourglasses and weird skeleton butterflies and shit during Latin.” 
“He is related to Thalia, you know,” Annabeth hums. She wets her hands as the plate before her starts to spin. “Maybe he’s going through the family goth phase.” 
Had she not just leaned in to start forming something magical and incredible out of clay, Percy would slouch over Annabeth’s shoulders and plead with her to at least consider that something weird is going on. Maybe it’s not bodysnatchers or changelings, okay, but something is strange! Jason Grace does not just decide to wear emo shit! Jason Grace once had a panic attack because the Aphrodite Cabin stole a pair of his jeans and cut them into shorts! This is a man who has a stricter sense of style than Nico, who, fucking hell, don’t even get Percy started on that. The yellow jacket has remained on all day and it’s haunting him. 
Annabeth dips her thumbs into the top of her clay and does not respond. 
Percy slumps down into the stool beside hers and huffs, more for himself than anything. 
Change is okay. Change is fine. But change like this, with no reason, is the opposite of fine. Change like this is a low-blow stink bomb in an otherwise perfect Capture the Flag game, impossible to get out of his clothes and his skin and his hair. Change like this is how people die. 
He claws his hands up into his hair and listens to the steady whir of the pottery wheel, the sound of wet clay being molded and shaped in different ways. There’s a lull of conversation from other campers in the class, kids from all different cabins, because to them this is any other day. 
Maybe this should be any other day to him, too. No, not maybe. It should be. This should be a regular Tuesday, full of regular classes with his regular friends who are ordinary in whatever ways they can be, but instead, Percy’s brain has to go and mix up everything, make everything feel- out of control. 
HIs next exhale shakes too hard for his liking. His shoulders are too tense. 
Beside him, Annabeth keeps calmly shaping her pot. She dips her hands into the water every so often, probably executing some flawless plan of action she drafted the night before. She’s not always delicate with her hands, with art like this - Percy knows that’s something she’s self conscious about. She never thinks she can be good at finer things. 
That’s normal. That’s normal for her. Ordinary, to think that Annabeth Chase would tackle arts and crafts in the same way she would a war strategy, devising the perfect approach for a flawless result. Executing it flawlessly. 
She pinches too hard pulling up the walls of the pot. It crumples, then swings off the wheel entirely with the force of it’s motion, splattering wetly across Percy’s arms and the other campers at the bench. 
Percy watches Annabeth glare at her failed creation. She sticks her hands in the dirty water to scrub the clay off, wipes her hands off on her shirt, and pulls on Percy’s sleeve. 
“I hate pottery,” she mutters as they rise together. 
Percy grins. “I think it knows that,” he teases, and follows as she stomps toward the exit. 
When the answer slaps Percy in the face, it feels more like a gut punch in the way it makes him breathless and off-balance. 
“You’re…huh?” 
Annabeth clicks her tongue. “You two couldn’t think of a better way to do this?” she gestures between Nico and Jason, standing awkwardly side by side as if they don’t know what to do with themselves. 
They’re still wearing the wrong jackets. Each other’s jackets. 
Percy makes a face, then realizes that might not be the best response to his two friends telling him their dating, so he tries to make a different face. 
The world’s not ending. They’re just…together. Sharing jackets, like couples do. 
“We didn’t want to make it a big deal,” Jason says. He keeps glancing at Nico and chewing on the inside of his lip. Nico, with the golden sleeves of apparently-Jason’s-jacket pulled over his hands once more, looks stubborn. Like he’s ready to fight about something. 
Percy wipes his sweaty hands off on his shirt and gestures, though he’s not sure at what. “But Nico’s wearing a color?” 
He feels more than sees Annabeth’s disapproving glare at the side of his head. Jason draws himself up, then seems to falter. His head cocks to the side and he shakes his head. 
“What?” 
“That’s a big deal,” Percy reiterates. “Nico doesn’t wear colors.” 
“Nico is standing right here, wearing a color,” Nico grumbles. He shoves his hands into the pocket of the sweatshirt and gives Percy a glare that is far more familiar than literally anything else happening right now. “I’m allowed to wear whatever I want to wear, for the record.” 
“But you don’t!” 
“Well I do now. If you have a fucking problem with it-” 
“I never said I had a problem with it,” Percy snaps back, immediately on the defensive. “I was fucking worried about you, you little shit, I thought something was wrong. I thought- I don’t know what I thought! I thought you two were swapped with some other versions of yourself, I thought you’d been- I don’t know- abducted by aliens, or fairies, or something!” He throws his hands up in the air, then drops them back onto his head, staring sort of at the middle point between the two of them. “You can’t do that shit and not expect- I mean, because, come on, guys, you’re you, you two fucking freak out if someone so much as touches your clothes. What were we supposed to think?” 
The hearth crackles. It’s too pleasant a sound for the sick Percy feels. 
Annabeth takes his hand, at least, and squeezes. His face burns with the shame of yelling like this, over this, it just feels so fucking stupid all of a sudden. He feels so stupid. Annabeth tried to tell him it was nothing, and he let it all get away with him, he let that nasty part of his brain win and win and win, and now he’s taking his losses out on them. 
“I’m happy for you two,” he makes himself say, when no one else speaks. “I think I just also need therapy.” 
Finally, Annabeth snorts. It’s a noise Percy knows, one he can ground himself with, same as her palm hot in his, her weight tilting into his side as her head bonks into his chin. 
The stress he’d held bundled up in his spine and his shoulders and his stomach all day releases in an instant. He slouches back in against her and laughs against the top of her head. 
“Jesus Christ,” Nico mutters, when Percy can’t stop himself, dissolving into a fit of hysterics over his own bullshit. “This is why I said we should just tell them. He’s laughing at us.” 
“I think he’s laughing at himself,” Jason says. He sounds uncertain. 
Percy hugs Annabeth tight, and laughs himself hoarse. 
EXTRA 
Nico stares at himself in Jason’s mirror, with the sweater hanging halfway down his thighs, sleeves hanging off his hands, the peak of his collarbone through the freaking collar. He narrows his gaze into a glare. 
“I look like a toddler,” he says derisively. 
Jason, still getting dressed himself, laughs. When he appears in the mirror behind Nico, looking far more proportional in Nico’s sweatshirt (which is frankly fucking unfair), his grin softens into a smile that’s- something. Sweet. 
Nico twitches his nose.  
“I look like I’m six years old,” he says, grabbing the hem of the sweatshirt and yanking down. “Why are we doing this.” 
“‘Cause it’s silly,” Jason says. He presses a kiss against the side of Nico’s head and hugs him loosely from behind. “You don’t look like a baby, either. You just look your age.” 
Nico looks down at himself. Maybe there’s a point there, a point to be made about how he dresses for practicality, dresses to blend in, but never to express himself. Maybe there’s a point to be made about how his discomfort isn’t really for how he feels about this, but how he thinks others will feel about it. 
He tugs at the hem again, and looks back up. Jason’s eyes in the mirror are bright, as if taking in the sight of Nico in his hoodie like this is something to savor. 
Nico likes when Jason looks at him like that. He likes how it feels to be looked at like he’s attractive. He likes how it feels to be wanted. 
“I guess,” Nico concedes, leaning further back into Jason’s chest. Immediately, Jason’s stance is more solid, sturdy, holding them both up as easy as breathing. He holds Nico like it’s a promise that he’ll never let go. 
He looks at the pair of them in the mirror, a cohesive unit rather than two separate halves. Jason in black is definitely something Nico wants to see more of, especially with the way Nico’s clothes fit snug over him, just a little tight at the biceps and chest. He looks good, not that he doesn’t look good otherwise. Different. 
With Nico his contrast in yellow…maybe it isn’t so bad. Maybe he likes being the counterbalance, even. 
Jason squeezes him again. Those damn eyes in the mirror are making Nico too warm, like his stomach is full of hot jell-o. 
“Okay, fine, let’s do this,” he huffs. The difference in his tone must be audible, though, because Jason perks up and grins, his eyebrows up, face aglow. Nico can’t look at him for too long. It’s still strange knowing he can make someone feel like that. He doesn’t know what to do when Jason turns the full puppy-love thing on. “And stop looking at me like that, you’re going to give me cavities.” 
“Okay,” Jason says in a voice identical to his expression. 
Nico grabs his hand and squeezes it twice. 
Jason squeezes back, so tight it aches. Nico’s heart swells with bright affection. 
Alright. Maybe yellow isn’t so bad, actually. 
63 notes · View notes
puppiesandnightlock · 5 months
Text
Link to Ao3: A Robin's Song
Summary: Since diapers, Jon and Damian have been best friends. Accidentally encouraging jon to go ask out a girl, damian must now deal with the consequences of pushing his what he thinks are unrequited feelings down. He turns to music to vent, posting under an anonymous online username "Robin".
What he was not expecting, was for the music to blow up, leaving him internet famous, and his feelings out in the open.
and Jon is completely clueless.
A/N: THIS IS A REVERSE ROBINS AU AGES R: Damian is 17 Duke is 16 Tim is 14 Steph is 13 ½ Cass is 12 Jason 10 ¾ Dick is 5 Jon is 18 Kon is 14 Bart is 13 Wally(will be mentioned eventually) is 5 Roy(also will b mentioned eventually) is 11
Based on this post by @jaybirbie
December 3, five weeks before.
“Can’t believe you, Mr. Jonathan-its-under-fifty-degrees-please-wear-a-jacket, didn’t wear the biggest coat you could find today.” Jon snorted, rifling through his closet.
Damian’s bronze skin was dusted with a pretty pink as he scowled, a knitted green sweater and black skinny jeans his only defense against the cold.
“It’s a weekend, Jon, I had no intention to go out, and I let Duke take the big jacket because he was going out with friends.” 
Jon hummed sympathetically before pulling out the next sweater he had, his letterman.
“Try this on, Dames.” 
“I don’t think it’ll be that warm.” Damian eyed it skeptically. Jon gave him a look, and he scoffed, shrugging it on anyway. 
“Looks better on you than me.” Jon cackled, snapping a quick picture.
The sleeves went past his hands, the jacket going down to his mid-thigh. Damian was drowning in a sea of warm fabric, and for a moment he was lost, inhaling deeply and smelling the fabric softener Jon’s mom used, a hint of the cologne he stole from his father, and a smell that was utterly Jon. Just Jon. His best friend, and definitely nothing more. Never…anything more.
“Dami?” Jon croaked nervously, silence taking over the room.
Damian snapped out of his little dream world and flushed red, scrambling to take it off and hand it back. “Way too big.” 
“Is it normal for you to smell clothing?”  Jon raised an eyebrow, was that a small, miniscule burst of pink on his cheeks?
No, stop messing with your own emotions, Damian.
Damian turned his nose up and scowled. “Yes, when was the last time you washed that thing?”
“Hey! It’s clean, thank you!” Jon shot back indignantly, but not before sniffing it quickly, just to make sure.
His friend snorted, before putting on the light jacket he’d brought over his knitted sweater. 
“We can just stay home and watch tv or something,” he offered. 
“Should I put on Glee?” 
“I’ll grab some cocoa.”
Five weeks after.
“What a sight for sore eyes.” Jon sighed, slumping against his locker. Damian looked up, shutting his as he grabbed his books. 
“Your locker?”
Jon let out a breathy chuckle. “No. Her .” 
He followed his gaze to a girl walking down the hall, laughing with a group of girls. Some wore a cheerleading outfit, but she wore a skirt with leggings, white shirt, and a low cardigan. Her skirt and sweater were varying shades of blue, and when she opened her eyes, one could see her eyes were as well. 
Thick pieces of brown hair fell to her hips, two long layers framing her face, slightly shorter bangs parted in the middle of her forehead.
And with one glance, he could already tell. Jon was utterly enamored with her.
“What’s her name?” Damian asked quietly.
“Haisley. She’s one of the cheerleaders, and god, her voice when she sings. Angels, Damian, I swear to you she’s what angels sound like.”
Every word out of Jon’s mouth was ripping him to shreds and he fought the sudden urge to scream. Instead he swallowed hard, spitting out words like they had done him personal harm.
“You should go talk to her.” 
Stop, Damian, don't do this to yourself.
“I’m sure you’ll get on very well, she looks sweet.”
Jon went pale. “Oh, God, she’s coming this way! Damian, what if I screw up?”
“Jon, it's a simple greeting. Say hi, I’m Jon, I’ve seen you around, then blah blah, say something charming. You’re good at that.”
He said it so dismissively, it nearly convinced himself that he didn't actually care. His taller friend inhaled sharply before meeting her halfway. Before he made it to her, she was tripped by something, and dropped her books. Being the good boy he was raised to be, he rushed over to help. 
Damian winced as Jon said something to make her laugh, his pale complexion flushing crimson at the sound.
Fighting off the stupid emotions, he kept his head down and sped out of the hallway. 
What had he done?
Present day.
Third wheel again. 
It was lunch, and instead of the usual eating under the big oak in the courtyard of their high school, Damian was stuck between Haisley and Jon, trying not to scowl as they chattered and flirted. 
It was disgusting, frankly, and never failed to make his appetite disappear. 
He had long since stopped trying to join their conversations, always drowned out by the “we’re-not-together-yet-Dames” couple.
“I’m just going to throw my tray away.” He called loudly over their talking, the only acknowledgement that he received was a thumbs up from Jon and a sweet smile thrown his way by Haisley.
Never one to waste food, he tucked the remaining packaged snacks and apple in his backpack before returning.
Before he made it to the table, he saw Jon draping his letterman over Haisley. The same one he’d been given on that cold day. Bile rose in his throat as he saw her lean her head tentatively on his shoulder, watching as Jon grew flustered, and just as hesitantly, wrapped an arm around her.
Damian suddenly felt as if he’d stumbled across something private, and hastily turned and walked away.
The walk turned into a run, and suddenly he was in the library, holed up in a corner as he cursed the sniffles he got.
This is hardly something to cry over , he scolded himself. I knew it was never going to happen.
He stayed in the little corner until the bell had rung, sketches of characters that didn't exist pouring over his sketchbook.
*****************
Walking home had always been something held to high regard for Damian these last few weeks since Haisley arrived. The only time he could have Jon to himself like he used to. These moments were treasured now, more than ever.
“Where’d you go at lunch, Dami?” Jon asked, strolling along the sidewalk.
“The library. There was a book I wanted to check out.” He said smoothly.
“Where is it then?”
“Oh, they didn't have it, so I had to put it on hold. I must have gotten distracted looking at the other ones.”
Yes, he had precrafted a story or five to tell.
“Did I miss anything important?”
“No, not really.” Jon let out a whoosh of air. “Just that I may actually be falling in love with Haisley.”
Hurt struck him like glass daggers to his heart, but years over playing games with his brothers had ensured he had an absolutely stellar poker face.
His mask of indifference washed over him as he responded with a tremor to his tone.
“Is that so? What makes you think that?”
“Gosh, she’s so pretty, for one.”
Damian’s stomach twisted, and he spoke. “So, is it just physical? That’s not love, Jon, that’s a crush.” 
“Wha-? No, I'm not done. She’s sweet, kind, and funny. She can actually have a snarky side if you hang around her enough. She has a good heart, and I know my parents would approve. Besides, do I gotta mention all the other stuff? The way her eyes get all squinty when she laughs,  her smile, all the blue. I look good in blue, don’t I? We could match~”
Jon continued gushing and at the corner, Damian clapped him on the shoulder and declared with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes that he was happy for him.
“You sure, D? You don’t look too excited.” Jon seemed worried.
“Course, J, I only want you to be happy. If you're happy, I'm happy. Just…this won’t come between us, right?”
He would die before he let their friendship burn, even if that meant he had to keep his distance.
“Never. You're my best friend, Damian. We’ll always be like this won’t we? Forever?”
“Yeah. Forever.” Damian swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and breathed a sigh of relief as he hit the row of small houses. 
“My stop. See you tomorrow.”
Before he could hear the response, he scurried away and across the street to the little tired house on the corner.
He unlocked the door and shut it behind him, slumping against it. The inside of the house was warm and cozy, the smell of cooking food making it homey.
When he opened his eyes, he could see his oldest younger brother, Duke, in the kitchen, the old yellow apron they had tied around his waist.
“You okay, Dames?” Duke set the pan down and lowered the fire, moving to help him up.
“Peachy.” He responded, letting himself be pulled upwards.
He hung up his coat and backpack and tried a smile, which Duke returned sympathetically.
Marching into his room, he starfished across his small bed and screeched into the pillow.
“✨Anger issues✨” Was hummed from above him.
Grumbling, Damian launched his pillow towards the person, his mood lifted slightly as he heard an “oof-” as the pillow hit his target.
“My dear menace to society.” Damian grinned as the pillow was thrown back and a black haired head popped up from the top bunk of the bunkbeds next to him.
“How was imprisonment for you today?” 
“Fine, fine, I won't bore you with details .” The teen waved his hand dismissively, before raising an eyebrow.
“How was your day, is the question we should all be asking if you came in here and tried to summon a demon with those screams.”
“And summon a demon, I did.” Damian gestured upwards to his little brother. 
“Asshole.” 
“Swear Jar.”
A quarter was thrown at his face.
“I’m serious, I'm fairly certain you and Duke are the ones who pay like half the bills from just the jar.”
“Shut up.” Tim stuck his tongue out, Damian returning the gesture. 
“Kon told me Jon got a girlfriend.” His tone softened. “Are you okay?” 
The crush was well known between the three oldest brothers and Cass, and it was often used as a teasing device, if not them actually trying to convince Damian to say something. 
“Fine. And they’re not together yet, tell Connor to get his facts right.” he waved off his brother’s concerns.
Tim looked at him, seeing directly past the lie, however, knowing better, he kept his mouth shut.
“You should write,” He said instead. ”Healthy venting.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Nonetheless, Damian followed his advice and took out a writing pad, proceeding to stare at the blank page for the next half hour until his youngest siblings and father arrived home, much like the author of this fic.
************
After dinner, everyone lounged around the living room, chattering and doing activities with each other.
Dick bounced onto the couch next to Damian and turned on the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. 
“Dami?”
“Dickiebird?”
“Will you play for us?”
Damian inhaled sharply. It had been awhile since he’d touched his guitar, but it still remained one of his younger brothers favorite pastimes.
“I’m a little rusty, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try.”
He went and grabbed it, repositioning himself back on the couch. His siblings paused in their activities to watch.
Hesitantly he tunes and strums, before playing around with some notes. Finding he quite liked the pattern, he continued with the slow melody, switching it up and returning it.
“I’ve never heard this song before.” Steph turned her head to the side, pausing in painting Cass’s nails. 
Jason bookmarked the page in his book and tore a page from one of Damian’s sketchbooks, coming to sit in front of Damian. 
“Can you play that again? It was really pretty.” 
He repeated it, again and again until the tune swirled around the house, bringing everyone into the song.
The kids had made a small circle around the couch, Bruce putting down his newspaper in favor of listening to his eldest.
There was nothing in his heart that spoke of pain and longing, all poured into the melancholy melody surrounding them.
When he came back to the present, the paper Jason had torn was covered in little scribbles. 
Music notes.
“Timmy helped, but these were the ones that we got, so that you can play that again sometime.”
“Please play it again!” Dick chirped.
“ Very beautiful.” Cass agreed out loud, trying to sign, but stopped by the wet paint on her nails.
“You should write lyrics!” Duke suggested. “I can help!” 
The rest of the evening was spent curled in the living room, Damian writing furiously and Duke helping him make things flow, Tim leaning over occasionally and remarking how similar they sounded to Damian's own predicament.
Damian was subjected to yet another day watching “Jaisley” as Tim and his group of friends, Duke, and if he was honest, he called it that as well, pine after each other.
If he had to hear the words “She’s an angel, D.” in a lovestruck tone one more time, his father would have to pick him up at the local police station for arson and vandalism.
Luckily, his savior came in the form of one Duke Wayne, who magically showed up almost every time Damian was on the brink. Today was his full school day, so he walked with Jon and Damian back home, wincing everytime Jon opened his mouth to gush about Haisley.
“Well, fuck.” Duke muttered as they walked into the house, dropping a quarter into the large jar as they did. 
“It’s bad.” Damian sighed. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I can sweep this under the rug, it’ll be fine.”
“Dames-” his brother started, before Tim came barreling through the door.
“Bye guys!” He screamed from the porch, two boys and a girl waving back at him.
Shutting the door, he turned to his older brothers. “We gonna record?”
Damian crossed his arms, staring up at his taller (only by a few inches!) little brother. 
“Wonderful idea, Timothy.”
He stalked towards the room, overhearing Tim whisper to Duke. “ He called me Timothy, was it really that bad?”
“Worse, dude. Wayyyy worse.”
*******************
Damian was wearing an oversized black hoodie with yellow lining, a dark green domino mask from an old halloween costume, and had left his hair out in a way rendered mostly unrecognizable to most of his school peers. 
Tim screwed around with the beat-up old laptop they’d salvaged awhile back, and a suspiciously high-quality recording mic. 
He would ask where it came from later.
The three brothers threw out some song requests for Damian to warm up, and then began recording. 
After the third take, they stopped.
“Dami, you sound monotone. Like you’re rehearsing a line and we have you at gunpoint behind the camera.”
“Sorry.” Damian flushed. 
Duke spoke up. “This is your song, your story. Try singing it how you feel, like you’re watching them and monologuing internally.”
He chewed his bottom lip, nodding. “Can we try again?”
Tim smiled, counting down. 
This time, he shut his eyes, letting the soft strumming of the guitar take him back to the moment when he felt his heart break for the first time. 
He floated away into the memories of them on the cold December day, to when they saw Haisley for the first time, to just recently listening to the voice he loved to hear pine for someone else. 
The tune flowed around him, lifting him up into the song until he was nearly sobbing with the pain of reliving those painful moments, pouring all he had into the few minutes. 
When he hit the final notes, he let the tears building up catch in the mask, a few stubborn ones slipping past the white out eyes and being hastily scrubbed away as Tim stopped recording. 
The silence was loud, and nervously, Damian spoke up. “Should we retake?”
“That was perfect, Damian.” 
“God, I could have cried. That is how this song was meant to be sung, and I'll be damned if this doesn't blow up by next week.”
“SWEAR JAR!” Tim and Damian chorused. 
“I’m giving compliments.” Duke grumbled. 
Tim stuck his tongue out and Damian skimmed the top of his guitar with his fingers gently. 
“I…I don't think I want it to blow up too much. These are my feelings, and to be honest I wouldn't be surprised if they find out it's me just by the words.”
“I guess.” Tim shrugged, going over the footage in his computer, and tweaking with the picture and turning the sound up over the videos, adding subtitles with the lyrics.
“Your old profile pic is that symbol you drew a few years ago. Do you wanna keep it?”
It was a bubble letter R in dark colors of green and red, a hint of yellow making it pop. Damian studied it before nodding. 
“Yes. I'd like to keep it.”
**************
They had played the song after dinner, the family applauding at the end. Tim posted it online with everyone onlooking, and although Damian claimed he didn’t care much about any of it, he sent the link to Kon, and asked him to pass it along to his older brother.
And if he hacked into a few accounts to put the link in their recommendations, who would know but him? 
…And the FBI agent that Bernard from across the street told him was watching the computer, despite using a VPN.
It was for a good cause anyways.
****************************
BIG HUGE THANKS TO MY AMAZING BETA READERS FOR THIS CHATPER @robbed-ghost and @redasuree !!!!!!!!!!!
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