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#i see it like this: one side of my brain -> NO :) jason
orionremastered · 3 months
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could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep
this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have
Masterlist
Oblivious
Dick Grayson
The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.
Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.
"What are you doing here?"
The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Where is he?"
You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.
"He's grocery shopping."
"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.
Jason Todd
A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.
You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.
"What are you doing in my house?"
The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.
"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."
"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."
Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.
Tim Drake
Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.
After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.
You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.
In your bathroom.
"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"
"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.
"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."
"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."
"You never told me that," you say.
"It's a recent thing. Sorry."
You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.
Damian Wayne
"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."
Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.
When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.
You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.
Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.
"Oh. Oh."
It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.
It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.
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dragonfly0808 · 11 months
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So my Batfamily brain rot is back (not that it ever really left) and I just had a thought like…
If you’re a henchman/criminal in Gotham, seeing your life flash past your eyes is gonna be a somewhat regular occurance but… what if like… the thing that truly made a henchman’s heart fall to his ass was when they hit Robin just a little too hard and this 10 year old kid just starts crying and goes ‘Daaaaaadddd!’
That’s the moment when they truly think they’re going to die because said dad, the kid is calling for is a 6’6 demon from hell who’s all muscle and shadows and vengance and a lot of Gotham still thinks he’s a cryptid
The henchmen all drop their guns and try to calm the kid down but it’s over in 5 seconds flat. Batman breaks several bones before speaking to Robin in the softest voice they’ve ever heard him use and the criminal world, who was already a bit hesitant to fight a kid have even more reason to take it just a little easy on Robin.
And like, I can picture different reactions with every Robin.
Like, for Dick, he’s ten and we all know he was the most violent Robin second only to Damian so maybe when he’s ten or eleven and has calmed down a little, a henchback who still remembers what a little shit he used to be decides to get back at Robin, slips on a pair of brass knuckles and BAM
And then, little Dick just stares for a moment in shock, cheek already starting to bruise, the criminals he’d been fighting all stay still because it was a nasty punch and then…
“Daaaaad!!!” He cries out in a whiny voice that reminds them that Robin really is just a kid and it all clicks into place.
Even Bruce wasn’t expecting that, Dick has just started calling him dad and he still isn’t used to being called that so to hear his kid calling for him in the moment where he is startled and hurt and a little scared… the henchmen don’t even have time to react and they wake up in the hospital with concussions and maybe a few broken bones.
It doesn’t take Dick long to calm down, it was mostly that the hit from a random henchmen really startled him and got him right in the cheekbone. But Bruce still finishes patrol early and Dick still hides under Bruce’s cape all the way to the Batmobile.
Then comes Jason and Jason was such a sweet kid, I headcannon he was the one that called Bruce dad the most often while being Robin. So one night during patrol maybe he finds himself fighting Penguin or Two-Face and it’s been a long night and he has an exam the following day and Bruce is fighting another villain at the other side of the warehouse
The point is, the henchmen and Two-Face start landing hits on eleven year old Jason in his gut and at some point he loses sight of Batman fighting on the other side of the room. Jason gets scared because he’s never really fought without Batman and while he knows that Bruce is still in the warehouse, he can’t see him and the handle of a gun hits the back of his ankle and he falls and he sees Two-Face or Penguin or one of the henchmen getting ready to grab the front of his uniform and beat him up and…
“Daaaaddd!”
The criminals freeze for a moment. They’ve heard the stories of what happened the last time a Robin called scared for dad.
They’re fucked.
They all drop their guns and try to get Jason to calm down, but he’s crying just a little bit and calls again, his voice breaking and despite having been at the other side of the warehouse just a second ago, Bruce somehow drops from the ceiling and it’s over before the criminals can keep pleading with Robin to calm down.
Jason tries to apologize for ‘acting like a baby’ but Bruce is having none of it and carries him back to the Batmobile and Jason is happy to just hide his face in Bruce’s cape because he knows his dad will always be there to save him.
Then comes Tim.
And Tim gets found out while doing reconnisance and somehow he finds himself face to face with Bane who manages to wrench away his bo staff and Tim is just eleven and he is scared because Bane doesn’t look like he’s going to hold back
All Tim knows is that the crack he hears must surely be his ribs either cracking or breaking and he can’t breath and he can only muster enough air for a single word… and he calls for his dad through tears and fear
And at this point… at this point Batman has already lost a Robin, Tim may not be his legally but he is his son just as much as Jason was
Bane spends a month in the ICU
Tim is embarrased that he reacted like that. He thinks it makes him less of a Robin to called scared for Batman… for dad.
So Bruce tells him of the other two times it happened. It’s one of the first times he’s spoken about Jason to Tim so bluntly.
Then comes Stephanie.
Stephanie never calls Bruce dad when she’s Robin. She’s not his daughter and he’s not her dad. They’re not sure what exactly they are to one another.
As far as Bruce knows, Stephanie’s version of Robin never called out to him when she was scared.
What he doesn’t know is that it did happen. Just once
It was the last time she was Robin. When Black Mask had her and she thought she was going to die
At some point while bleeding and feeling nauseous and so scared she could barely hear anything that wasn’t her own heart beating wildly against her chest… she called for dad. Not for Arthur Brown, but for Bruce
Black Mask laughed at her
Stephanie never tells Bruce
And finally… Damian
Now, we know Damian would probably never be startled enough to call for Bruce out of instinct, so I can see 2 scenarios in which this could happen.
First, he sees another kid do it. He sees a kid close to his own age laughing and playing, then tripping and staying quiet for a split second before crying out for mom and dad and he just… assumes that’s something kids do when scared and hurt and startled and does it mostly in an attempt to be a little more ‘normal’
Or, my favorite scenario… he hears of the other times it has happened. He overhears maybe Dick remind Jason of what Bruce did when Jason called out to dad as Robin. Tim maybe jokes that a Robin calling for dad is still the villains’ greatest fear
So Damian stores that knowledge away as a battle strategy just in case he ever needs it… and maybe a small part of him wants to put it to the test, to see if his father would protect him as brutally as he’s protected the Robins before him
So some random night during patrol, he’s up against several henchmen, a few of them grab him from behind, trying to hold him down. Damian is fighting against them when one of them swings a cylinder of metal that Damian thinks might’ve been meant for the plumbing and…
The henchman breaks Damian’s nose, there’s blood dripping down his chin and staining his uniform
Now… it is most certainly not the first time he’s broken something, he’s more than used to the pain, in fact, he barely feels it. However, it gives him a chance to put his little theory to the test
And so Damian allows himself to sound like the ten year old that he is and in a whiny, teary voice, goes… “Babaaaaa!” (Bonus points if it’s the first or second time he’s called Bruce baba instead of father)
What Damian didn’t take into account though, is that Batman and Robin aren’t the only ones on patrol that night. They made a big bust. The biggest part of the operation was over but they were still fighting a few stragglers. The whole fucking family is here.
And they all hear his cry.
Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen a fight end so quickly. The henchmen only have a split-second of surprise before vanishing, being tackled or shot or having knives buried on their shoulders by his siblings.
The one that actually broke Damian’s nose is being beaten up by Nightwing, Damian doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grayson so angry.
A shadow kneels in front of him, father. Baba. He’s checking Damian and Todd is right at his side, both speaking in hushed tones, checking his injuries and wiping the tears that usually came with a broken nose.
And now… Damian is used to his father and Grayson treating him like a child, trying to be as soft as they can with him. Even Cain does it to some extent.
But… having Drake wrap an arm around him, calling him baby when knocking out one of the criminals that had hurt him ‘that’s my fucking baby brother!’ and continue to hold him later into the night on the couch, having Brown willingly give up all the snacks she keeps in her utility belt and promise to take him to Batburger the following day for milkshakes because he was ‘a champ’. And Thomas wraps his favorite blanket around Damian while they’re fixing him up.
Todd decides to stay the night at the manor. Which he never does. They all decide to spend the night at the manor when Damian still sniffles on the Batmobile and they have breakfast all of them together. Which Damian isn’t sure has ever happened before and Cain gets Alfred to make pancakes with chocolate chips instead of blueberries.
They call him baby in hushed whispers but for once, it doesn’t bother him even though it really should
But most of all, Bruce refuses to let him go for a good five minutes after he first cries for him. Smoothing down his hair and whispering that it’ll be okay and just being soft in a way Damian has never seen before.
He sleeps between his Baba and Grayson and he knows that Todd and Drake and Cain check in on them at least twice in the night for some reason.
And he realizes it’s… it’s nice. Maybe this really could be an effective battle strategy to be employed again someday.
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inkskinned · 11 months
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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??
anyway
Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”
“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*
“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks
"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.
Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.
"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"
Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."
"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.
How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?
"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"
Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."
Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."
Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.
And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.
The perfect heir.
It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.
"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."
"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"
"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."
"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.
The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.
"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.
He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."
"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.
"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.
Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.
It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.
"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.
"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"
"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.
A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.
He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"
"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."
"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.
"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"
"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.
Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.
"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.
Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.
"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.
His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.
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cherubfae · 2 months
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jealous slashers~!✧
With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman
tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included
Alexa, play Love to Die by the Slashstreet Boys
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Michael
Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.
Brahms
Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.
"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.
Jason
As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.
Billy & Stu
Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.
"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.
Vincent
There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.
But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.
"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"
Bo
Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.
"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.
Lester
Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.
A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."
Thomas
Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.
Sal Fisher
Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.
"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.
Patrick
A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.
|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024
"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."
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dudeitiskarev · 16 days
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I Want to Hold Your Hand | Aaron Hotchner
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau female reader
Summary: Hotch sends you home and you almost die, which only makes him realize how much he truly loves you.
Word count: 2.4k.
Tags/warnings: hurt/little comfort; season 1 Hotch my beloved <3; canon typical violence; Haley and Jack don’t exist in this universe oopsies; angst with happy ending; Hotch is a baby; probably very inaccurate medical talk bc all I know is from Grey’s; not beta read + English isn’t my first language so good luck with that.
Author’s note: remember when I said I was probably done writing for a Hotch? Turns out all I had to do was stop taking my antidepressant 🙄 anyway, don’t get your hopes high. I just needed to take a break from my never-ending Spence fic so I wrote this. Which is basically a rewrite of what happened with Elle. I just wanted to make Hotch suffer a little so I hope you like it!
MASTERLIST
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A few hours ago, Aaron kissed the top of your head and sent you back to the hotel with a police officer.
Now, he was in a hospital waiting room with his heart in his throat, hoping the doctor would show up with good news.
You’d been attacked in your hotel room, and it was his fault.
“They’re gonna set up a bed for you in her room.” Jason walked in with a cup of coffee for Aaron. His fourth one already.
“She’s… not out of surgery yet,” Aaron shut his eyes. “We don’t know if —”
“The hospital chief, I know him.” Gideon sort of smiled. “I asked him if he could go check on her. All I know is that they’re closing her up now.”
The words began to sound far and faded as if Aaron was underwater. His vision blurred and his legs would’ve given up if he wasn’t sitting down already.
It was his soul returning to his body.
He didn’t want to get his hopes high, though. If they were closing you up it meant you were alive, but nothing else. There could be a hundred things wrong with you while being alive.
All he could do was nod and put his hands together over his lips like a prayer.
You were alive.
“The doctor should be here with the updates any minute now.” Jason sat next to Aaron and gave him a gentle tap on his back.
Gideon knew. Even when Hotch hadn’t told anyone about his feelings—not even you—he spent most of his day with profilers so of course the best one in his team knew about it.
“I’m heading back to the hotel soon,” Gideon continued. “See what the hell happened. Why… How did they let the unsub enter her room. Garcia should be landing soon. We need to check every security camera.” He smacked his tongue in disappointment and shook his head.
Aaron rose from his seat and tried his best to at least let his shoulders relax but every bit of him had turned into concrete.
“Where are Reid and Morgan?” He asked, pacing back and forth and stretching his neck from one side to the other. Even in moments like this, he needed to know where the rest of his people were. Especially in moments like this.
“Back at the local PD,” Gideon answered.
“JJ?”
“She’s talking to the hotel manager, making sure none of the employees makes any declaration to the press before we catch the guy.”
Aaron nodded, and soon, the doctor walked into the room with the updates.
“Surgery was a success,” he began. “We managed to repair all the damage and save her lung. Now, she flatlined once in the ambulance and then again during surgery so her brain has been through a lot.”
It wasn’t the time to profile anyone, but the way the doctor couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than two seconds told Aaron he was aiming at something more serious.
“Just tell us.” Aaron rubbed his thumb with his fingers.
“She’s not breathing on her own yet and according to her EEG, her last exam, her brain is swollen. It may take her a while to wake up.” The doctor gulped. “If she wakes up.”
Aaron’s entire world crumbled once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked to a corner to pull himself together.
This was his fault. You might never wake up and it was his fault.
“When can we see her?” Gideon asked for him.
“You can see her now but… you need to be prepared. A machine is breathing for her. There’s a tube down her throat and it might be a lot to look at.”
Just picturing you like that turned his stomach upside down.
God, if you don’t ever wake up—
“She’s gonna wake up.” Penelope’s voice entered the room and so did the light she carried everywhere.
She was one of Aaron’s comfort people. If Penelope was there, there was hope.
“Garcia,” Jason said in a don’t tone.
“She’s strong.” Penelope walked up to Hotch anyway. “And people wake up from comas. Miracles happen and—” Her eyes filled with tears once she touched Hotch’s arm to get his attention. “She needs us, she needs you. And we need her.”
Garcia also knew, apparently. And if she knew without being a profiler, everyone else knew.
“I found this.” She handed Hotch a Polaroid picture of you. You were leaning on Garcia’s desk, your arms folded over your chest and with your sweet, sweet smile. There was the hope. “I took it a while ago and kept it on my desk along with the others but…”
Aaron took it with a shaky hand. You were mesmerizing.
“García,” Gideon insisted.
A nurse interrupted to let them know they could see you now.
“You go,” Gideon said to Hotch, taking a step back. “Just call me if anything changes. Garcia, you’re coming with me.”
“Yes, sir.” Penelope gave Hotch one last hopeful smile before following Jason out.
Aaron looked at your photo again and took deep breaths to gather himself as walked to the endless hall that took him to you.
“We’ll set up your bed in a few.” The nurse smiled at him, gesturing for him to go in. “She looks good. It might not look like it because of all the machines but she’s doing good. She’s a strong woman.”
Aaron said a quiet thanks before the nurse left.
It was just you and him.
The steady beeping of the machine brought him a sense of comfort—it meant you were alive—yet his feet were hesitant to take him next to you. He stood at the door for a moment, watching you from afar.
As the doctor had said, it was a lot to look at. It reminded him of the last time he saw someone close to him like this: his father. The difference was that back then, he couldn’t wait for his dad to die.
Today, he’d found himself praying multiple times to a god he wasn’t even sure existed most times.
He dared to move and when he reached your side, he almost crumbled. You had a few bruises on your left cheek, your knuckles were split—you even had a broken finger, and you looked beautiful as ever. He wished he could see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, catch you smiling at him.
Guilt brewed at the pit of his stomach again. He should’ve gone with you. He should’ve been with you.
He lifted one hand to stroke your head and tears welled up as soon as his skin touched yours. His chin quivered and he sniffled quietly as tears threatened to spill. He used the heel of his hands to dry them away. He couldn’t cry, even if you were in a coma and couldn’t see him like this—broken. You believed people’s energy had effects on others, and you needed him to be strong. He needed to be more like you.
His bed was set soon after, right next to you. His eyes were heavy, and his muscles were sore. Even then, he couldn’t bring himself to lie down. He was scared to close his eyes. What if you died while he was asleep? He stayed sitting down, holding your hand and never losing sight of you.
“It’s raining,” he said out loud, talking to you. “Every time it rains I think of you.”
He smiled at the memories. You’d shown up at his office for your interview drenching, and he was smitten from the very first moment he laid eyes on you.
“Agent Hotchner,” your perky voice caught him off guard. No one inside the BAU building was perky—besides Garcia.
You stood by the door, both hands behind your back waiting for his signal to come in.
“Please.” He gestured with his hand to the seat across from him.
He took half a second to study you quickly. Raindrops were gathered over the shoulders of your blazer and your mascara was a bit smudged under your eyes.
“Forgot your coat, agent?” He commented, peeling his eyes off you and reading through your resume.
“Didn’t think I’d be raining by the time I arrived, sir. I don’t keep an umbrella in my car either. I apologize for my… appearance.”
It wasn’t your appearance that got you on his team, it was your outstanding resume. It made him wonder why you chose to apply to the Behavioral Analysis Unit instead of staying at ViCAP. Your performance there was impeccable.
“I wasn’t feeling comfortable there anymore,” was your answer. “And I want to seek other paths, sir. And I know I’m a good fit for your team.”
You started the very next day, and he partnered up with you to keep an eye on you during your first cases. You were a quick thinker, were fast on your feet, and stayed calm under critical situations.
Not once he felt at a disadvantage in the field for working with the new kid, which only showed him how good you naturally were. He was drawn to you and it wasn’t just because of your professionalism.
It was your fast food order. It was the first joke you ever made that only made him laugh. It was your perfume, the way you spoke with your hands, and how you raised your brows when making a point.
Everything about you made him take a deep breath. You made him dizzy. Lightheaded. Drunk.
Exactly how he felt right now while holding your hand, except that now, the room was spinning at the mere thought of losing you.
“I love you,” he murmured, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your bruised knuckles with shaky lips. “I love you.”
He’d never said it before. He didn’t know he did until now.
“God, I love you so much. From the moment I saw you, you lit up my life. You made it better, made me better.” He kept talking to you, hoping that his voice would heal everything inside you. “I can’t lose you. I won’t make it.”
Please wake up. Please wake up. Please wake up.
The rain stopped, the hours passed, and the sun never came out.
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It’d been two weeks and he’d already made the habit of reading you at night.
“Studies have shown that playing music they really like and talking to the person in a coma increases their chances of waking up,” Spencer had said the day the entire team came to visit you.
Most nights he read case files. Others, he liked to read poetry.
You still hadn’t woken up, but the music, the poetry, and the flowers didn’t stop.
“I hope you don’t mind if I read something by Neruda,” Aaron said as he sat on the chair next to you. “Maybe not Neruda.”
It was one of those nights where hope had watered down with his tears.
He put the book down next to you and held your hand. He hadn’t stopped holding your hand; he hadn’t stopped kissing it either. He sighed deeply and stood up to draw the blinds, turning his back to you.
A loud smack against the floor startled him, making him turn around. The book he’d left next to you had fallen. He didn’t think he’d left it at the edge of the bed, but he picked it up without much curious and went to put it where it was.
Your hand twitched when he grazed your knuckles casually.
Then it twitched again—harsher—and a soft whimper came from your chest. That sound definitely came out of your body.
Aaron was quick to check on you, towering over you and watching you closely. Your eyelids started to move and the next thing he knew, he was making eye contact with you.
Those beautiful twinkling eyes took his breath away.
“We need a doctor in here!” He was quick to react, pressing the call button.
Nurses stormed inside and moved him out of the way to assist you.
“She’s awake. She’s fighting the tube,” was all he heard before a thousand tingles rushed through him.
You were awake.
Your doctor arrived soon after to examine you and Aaron stood there as they took the tube out.
You coughed and writhed with discomfort.
“Can you tell me your name?” Your doctor moved a small flashlight in front of your eyes.
You blinked a few times and searched around the room. Your eyes landed on Aaron. “Hotch?”
Your soft voice traveled to him and enveloped his heart, mending every bit that was broken.
“Hi,” he merely said.
You shook your head and said your name instead. Your doctor asked some more questions like your birthday, where you worked at and what was the last thing you remembered, and the entire time your eyes were trained on Aaron.
“It’s vague.” You took a sharp breath. “I think I was attacked but I don’t know how. I can assume by this unglued scar, though.” You put your palm on your chest.
“We’re still going to do some tests,” Your doctor said. “But you’re great. Pupils are responsive, your lungs sound healthy and there are no signs of brain damage. No memory loss. No speech loss either.”
“How soon can she go home?” Aaron asked, taking another step closer. He finally stood by your side, and you reached for his hand.
This was you. Sweet and caring even at your worst.
“I’d like to keep her under observation for a couple of days, then she can go. But just so you know, you can’t fly for at least two weeks after open-chest surgery.”
The doctor gave you some other indications before leaving, then it was just the two of you as it’d been for the past two weeks. Though now he got to see the twinkle of your eyes, hear your voice, and catch you smiling at him.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.
“I sent you away and—“ he raised his brows.
“Don’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Don’t do that. Don’t… blame yourself.”
“I should’ve come with you. I should’ve— god, you almost died. You almost died,” he repeated in a whisper, shutting his eyes with pain.
The guilt was still there.
“But I didn’t.”
“I was so scared,” he admitted, daring to look back at you.
“I… don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces but I do remember that I wasn’t scared. I think. I… channeled you at that moment.” You laughed. “I remember thinking, Hotch wouldn’t be scared, he would put up a fight, so I did. I fought the guy, which got me almost killed but I wasn’t scared.” You lifted your hand and cradled his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “You have a beard.”
He chuckled. “Barely.”
“It looks good. I like it.”
He didn’t like it much, but he was grateful it was there so you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing. He poured you some water and handed it you to distract himself from it.
“Where are we?” You then asked, taking a sip from the straw.
“Seattle.” Aaron raised his brows while licking his lips.
Last time you two were in Seattle, you’d kissed for the first time.
“Oh,” you mirrored his smirk. “So that’s gonna be like a three-day road trip back to Quantico?”
“It’s either that or two more weeks in Seattle until you can fly there,” he responded.
“Both sound amazing, don’t you think?” you scanned his face up and down and heat rushed to his cheeks again. “Thank you for staying with me, Aaron.”
I love you, he thought.
“How could I not?” he said instead.
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Never said there would be a love confession now did I 🤭 But don’t worry, hotch confesses his love during the road trip <33333 also the title is a The Beatles song bc he played The Beatles a lot while reader was in a coma. And bc he held her hand a lot.
I hope you liked it!!!!
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soulren · 10 months
Text
Go spend some time on male pattern baldness or male(AMAB) balding forums/subreddits and such. I did after realizing it is happening to me and the ammount of people who truly don't realize how BRUTALLY it tanks people's confidence and mental health is insane.
There's no cure to baldness by the way, and it can start at any time and there's no way to predict how fast or slow it will go. The only real working option is a daily pill that usually just halts it, but it can stop working or just slow it down or cause major side effects. To regrow you have to use a daily topical solution, or use a roller to wound your scalp. None of these are surefire by the way, and if you stop them you'll just lose your hair and whatever you regained. It's a daily involved thing that might not work and often at best just retains. The best drug, the one that occasionaly gives regrowth, also causes shedding at the start, and can have side effects from growing breasts to brain fog to EDsyfunction(sorry, censoring cause tumblr). Now, those are INCREDIBLY rare and almost never happen but it weighs heavily on the mind of those already spiraling.
But that's just background. What I'm here to talk about is the pure woe you'll see on those forums. People speak as though their lives are over, as though they've lost every chance of finding a woman(predominantly, there's a running idea in such places that women don't like bald men or like them less) or doing anything. You can read countless stories of people who describe that they no longer go outside, are now filled with anxiety and self-hate, have gone from extroverted to never showing their face. And some of these people are kids who lost their hair in high school or even before, or are holding as best they can to a very receded hairline and feel like there is nothing they can do.
And then there's something touched upon far less in those communities, but is important to bring up here; baldness and masculinity. There's the horror of knowing so much of society sees a bald guy as a very masculine guy, at seeing that the best advice for being hot and bald is "grow and beard and big muscles bro". Imagine now you're AMAB balding and nonbinary, or a trans woman who doesn't want to be on hormones.
Just genuinely take the time to look at those forums no matter who you are. Understand what these people go through, what I am currently going through. It is soul-crushing, spiraling, brutal. I have the dream of one day being like Brennan Lee Mulligan or Matt Mercer and starting to lose my hair made me feel like I could never. I felt like and still feel like I would have to be masculine, have to be a bro-y dude, have to look older than I was(I'm fuckin 22). It was the feeling that I could never dress feminine again, never present as a woman when I wanted to again, that I'd always be viewed as a bald guy before anything else.
This is an incredibly vulnerable post for me, and I hope it reaches you all as well in a kind and understanding mood. There's a tendency online for people to joke about baldness, to make fun of it, to treat it as a playfull silly thing but it fucking ruins lives, and it shouldn't. It happens to half the population's sort of bodies and very often. It should just be a neutral thing. You don't need long hair to be feminine, you don't need hair to be feminine. You don't need hair for anything. I guess I'm just saying in general that everyone should be kinder about balding, more understanding, and view it with as much import as they'd view the pixels between this sentence and the next. None at all, I mean.
And for those like me, very feminine guys who wanna keep that and don't want a beard and are terrified of balding, here's some names and I do hope others that see this will add more; Mr. Bruce (also in The Correspondents(band) Alex Ward in LA By Night Jason Carl in LA By Night Cecil Baldwin of Welcome To Night Vale Bob The Drag Queen RuPaul(in looks alone, I know about the whole fracking stuff but this post is about looks) tananasho on instagram Also your mannerisms and style of dress will convey femininity far more than your hair. Yea sure a front-on neutral shot of you may not and maybe you need makeup and stuff, and hell maybe a lot of people might reject you more but it'll just filter down to the people for you.
And to all you artists and writers and creatives; make more bald characters. Try it out. Feminine ones, masculine ones, all sorts. None of the copout nonhuman sort, just dudes and girls and mates and individuals who are all sorts of things and also bald. It might make a few of the people going through the various vortexes of pain that balding causes feel a bit better.
And to those noticing I did not adress female hair loss much here, that was intentional. I am AMAB and currently a nonbinary guy who goes by any pronouns but often likes to present as fem. I learned I was possibly losing my hair and lost two months of my life, no work or going or anything, to male hair loss forums and research and spiraling. Checking my hair twenty times a day, unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think. And my situation was NOT unique, but it also did not give me any experience or understanding of female hair loss and what AFAB people may go through with that, so I don't feel knowledgeable enough to speak on it. Also living with baldness WILL get easier and you will find something that works for it, by virtue of simply living with it. Things get easier with time.
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dxckgrxsonx · 1 year
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hello, random Jason thot i feel like i need to share:
he is the type to ask for sexual related stuff very casually in the most unexpected moments — “hey do you have a second for me to bend you over and use your holes?” “c’mere so i can hit you from the back real quick” “babe, do you like how my cum tastes?” “you mind if i fuck you in your sleep tonight?” “you want me to go raw next time we do doggie?” while you are making toast in the middle of the day or doing the dishes like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
that's it, that's my thot. thanks.
Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 1.2k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Porn no Plot - Unprotected Sex -Shower Sex - Kitchen Sex - Dirty Talk - Jason 'no verbal filter' Todd - Swearing - Fluff. Notes - i think you should share more thots with me 😉 i will listen to whatever you have to say. also, the idea of Jason fucking you in your sleep???? hOT. I’ll be writing that at some point.
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MASTERLIST
**
He asks you questions at the most random times.
You think his brain doesn’t have an off switch. Thoughts constantly whirling around on a washing machine spin cycle. Each one thunking against the sides until he tugs open the door and spits out the first thing to fall at his feet.
Last week, he asked you through a mouthful of food what word you would use to describe The Red Hood.
Apparently, ‘hot’, was entirely the correct answer and he’d spent the rest of the meal insufferably pleased with himself until you’d laughed and kicked him under the table.
The week before that, he woke you up in the middle of the night and asked you, half asleep, if you would still love him if he was a worm. In response, you’d rolled over to hug him close and mumbled, “Mmm-hm. I’d love you no matter what.”
And when you woke up that next morning, it was with Jason smudging kisses across your chest. Right over your heart. You didn’t recall the conversation but he did and it must have meant something to him because he didn’t leave your side for hours.
But this time, he pokes his head out of the shower whilst you’re brushing your teeth and casually asks, “You mind joining me in here? It’s been a while since we’ve had shower sex and i’m real fuckin’ hard.”
Surprise sparks like a blown electric fuse and your toothbrush clatters into the sink whilst you choke on a mouthful of toothpaste, “Jason!” You sputter, staring at him through the mirror and feeling heat scathe up your neck. “What the hell?”
Grabbing your arm, he says nothing and tugs you into the shower cubicle, places you directly under the almost scalding spray of water and cracks a smile when you swat at his chest. Instantly, your pyjamas turn see through and Jason whistles appreciatively, mouth hooking up in a devilish smirk.
“Now there’s a pretty sight.” He says, giving you a heated once over.
Your nipples poke against your shirt and Jason wastes no time in rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks until you sigh softly. He dips his fingers under the hem of your pyjama top and smooths his warm palms up over your breasts to remove it.
Shuffling you backwards until you press against the cold tile wall you hiss through your teeth, “You’re a bastard, Todd.”
Ducking his head to kiss and bite at your neck Jason chuckles, voice lowering to a challenging drawl, “Call me Todd again, sweetheart. I dare you.”
Dragging your open palm over his cock you turn your head and kiss him slowly, deeply. You lick into Jason’s mouth and feel him throb in your hand. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip you tug until he growls.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Todd. Did that hurt?”
Jason grabs at your thighs, yanks your shorts down your legs with the efficiency of someone not leaking precum all over your fingers. Slotting his hands under your thighs he picks you up, forces your legs around his thick waist. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pussy and you feel yourself drool over the fat, flushed head.
“You’re really in for it now, baby.” He says, eyes alight. “You thought I was a bastard before. Things are about to get a hell of a lot worse for you now.”
You smile, thoroughly amused, “Promises. Promises.”
**
Slotting two slices of bread into the toaster you reach for your phone sitting on the kitchen counter.
Jason approaches you silently and you wonder, not for the first time, how someone with so much mass can move so quietly. You don’t catch his presence until he’s within arms reach and you think that if you were a criminal, you’d be as good as unconscious.
Slipping his arms around your waist he nuzzles into your back, moves to rest his chin on your shoulder, “Whatcha watchin’?”
Turning the screen so he can see the video, you feel him laugh when you say, “Cat fail videos.”
Reaching silently for your phone he locks the screen and places it facedown on the counter. Turning in the strong cage of his arms you walk your fingers over his chest and up to his shoulders. Humming quietly in the back of your throat you sweep a flyaway strand of hair from his eyes.
“Can I help you?” You ask.
“Do you have a second for me to bend you over the kitchen counter? Wanna fill you up.”
“Wow.” You snigger, half amused, half aroused. “You’re not one for subtlety, huh?”
Spinning you around, Jason presses your hips into the counter and quickly unbuttons your jeans to slide them down to your ankles with your underwear. He shuffles around behind you and you hear him drag the zipper down on his pants.
“Jus’ like the thought of you dripping with my come.” He answers, and you feel your clit swell. A touch of his Gotham accent colours his words. “You’re not going to deny me that, are you?”
Kicking one foot free of your jeans you hook your knee over the lip of the counter, spread your puffy pussy open for Jason to see how wet you are. Your arousal leaks from your entrance and Jason drags his fingers through the wetness before wiping it over the head of his cock.
“If I end up burning my toast I’m not going to be happy.” You say.
Pressing the fat head of his cock to your clenching hole Jason pushes forwards, groans deeply when your walls yield around him and squeeze at his thick girth. Bracing one hand on your waist, Jason rocks his hips, stuffs himself into your pussy inch by inch until he bottoms out.
“You were made for taking my cock, sweetheart.” Jason moans, snapping his hips up. Hooking his thumbs under the swell of your ass he spreads you open so he can watch his cock sink into you. “Fuckin’ Christ, can feel you squeezin’ at me, baby. S’almost like I didn’t fuck you yesterday.”
Whimpering out his name you try to reach for the toaster, worried that it’s going to burn.
“I don’t give a fuck about your toast.” Jason growls, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. “I’ll make you breakfast myself when I’m finished.”
**
Sat on the sofa you tug your fingers through Jason’s hair.
His head rests in your lap, legs thrown over the arm of your sofa so you can both fit somewhat comfortably. The TV drones in the background, a movie playing that you’ve quickly lost interest in. You’ve found that your attention settles on Jason, on the stubborn knots in his hair and the warmth of him resting on your thighs.
“Comfy?” You ask, just to make sure.
Humming softly he glances up at you, and when your eyes meet he smiles, “You’re beautiful.”
Emotion drags itself up your throat and you stroke his cheek tenderly, lovingly. You open your mouth to speak but there’s a lump in your throat and you quickly realise that you don’t even know what to say. Vaguely, you recognise that Jason hasn’t taken his eyes off you.
Opening your mouth to try again Jason beats you to it, “I know, baby. Y’don’t have to say it. I know.”
Rubbing the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, Jason presses a soft kiss there.
“Hey, you mind if I fuck you in your sleep tonight?”
Flicking his forehead you snigger, “Do you not have a verbal filter?”
Giving you an unimpressed look, his eyes glitter, “What do you think?”
**
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Note
LOML BABY CUTIE PIE SNOOKUMS 💕🦋
SO THAT YOUR SEXY LIL BRAIN DOESN'T FORGET :
The lover boys ( Percy, Leo, Jason, Conner, Luke , Frank) overhearing reader talking about them and afterwards realising that reader is THE ONE for them
Mhuaw Mhuaw 💋
⋆⭒˚.⋆ can't have a conversation if it's not all about you! hcs
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content: hcs for leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, percy jackson & jason grace warning: some language but that's it!! author's note: ta daaaaa! i like doing matching stories to one's ive already written!! and love love love how these match the other group hcs i did, probs gonna put it as a part two on the masterlist even tho i kinda isn't, ya know??? whatever it's my blog lmao-
𝜗𝜚 leo valdez
leo had no shame
originally, he had no intentions of eavesdropping
but then he heard you talking as he passed by the window of your cabin and couldn't help but stand nearby
and, boy, was he glad that he did
his smile was a mile wide as he heard you talk so passionately about him
that's right, you've been yapping away about leo for at least an hour
"and you should see the way he looks at me when he makes me laugh. it's just- it's just this wide smile and he can't seem to take his eyes off me."
leo blushed slightly at that comment, completely unaware that you had caught onto that look, the one he only reserved for you
"and he's the sweetest, always looking out for me. oh! and the gifts are never ending and he's the best cuddler i've like ever met. and, so, so funny."
leo was certain he was short circuiting, the wires of his heart fraying and twisting in unnatural ways. in ways that would make his mechanic father disappointed
"you must really love him," one of your siblings mused and leo waited with baited breath, leaning slightly closer to the window to hear you better
"more than i could put into words. i'm...i'm lucky the fates gave him to me - more than lucky."
that was the day leo started working on your engagement ring, determined to never spend another day without you by his side
𝜗𝜚 frank zhang
frank was a good boy, be it either his roman bones or his canadian heritage, he made sure to always follow rules and respect peoples privacy
...except for today
he allowed himself this exception as he stood in one of the many hallways new rome had to offer, leaning against the way as he heard your voice drift through the corridor
you couldn't have been more than a few yards away, your voice easily carrying to frank's ears
"he gives the best hugs!"
"bear hugs?" your friend laughed and frank's lips twitched upwards at the comment
"shut up! he's sweet too! so, so sweet! and gentle. for a son of mars, he holds me so softly."
frank stood a little taller at the comments, pride filling his body in a way it never has before
sure, lots of people have told him similar things, but something about it coming from you left the boy reeling with pride
"cmon, be honest. is he, ya know, the one?" your friend whispered but frank still heard it
he paled at the connotation, his fingers crossed as he counted the seconds in between your response.
"honestly? he's the other half of my soul. we're tied together and he's not getting rid of me anytime soon."
that afternoon, frank signed up for an wedding magazine subscription, wanting to keep up to date on the wedding scene, as he figured it would become important to him and you in the near future
𝜗𝜚 luke castellan
luke had taken a break from practice with his sword, laying on the ground all sweaty and grimy
his water bottle had long since been emptied but he was far too tired to get up and refill it
after a few minutes of rest, he'd finally decided the water would be worth the pain of his taunt muscles
as he made his way to the water fountain, he paused as his eyes caught sight of you and a wood nymph talking
he smirked to himself, moving closer with the full intentions of stealing a kiss but he paused as your words started to reach his ears
he then hid behind a tree, only peeking out every now and then when he knew you weren't looking
"gods, i've never met a guy so romantic. did i tell you that he stole all of my favorite bags of chips from the camp store? and you wanna know why? mind you, this is a direct quote, he said 'because no one but my girl deserves this chips to grace her lips.' like...bro."
the wood nymph cooed, the flowers in her hair brightening in color at the romantic thoughts
in fact, the red tulips were matching the shade of luke's cheeks pretty well
and that's quite the feat as the boy wasn't a big blusher
"and watching him train will always leave me drooling. you hear that olivia rodrigo leaked song, prison for life?? like, that's literally him!! he's so protective but in a good way, ya know??"
luke shook his head despite knowing the fact you couldn't see him
you've brought that song up so many times since you heard it, telling luke that it always reminded you of him
and luke would never admit it, but he listened to the song on his own time
and he couldn't help but agree with you
he'd kill for you and you didn't even need to ask him to
he'd just do it because you were worth any consequence he'd face after
"so, you love him?" the wood nymph questioned eagerly
and luke was just as eager to hear the answer
"...i'd kill for him, too. i'd do anything to keep him close, hurt anyone. hell, i'd tear down olympus for that boy."
and that you would, eventually.
all with a shiny ring on your finger, put there by the boy who'd lost his way
and you were more than happy to get lost with him, too, as long as it meant his hand in yours
𝜗𝜚 percy jackson
percy knew better than to listen to rumors
especially from sea flora and fauna
but, when the shark swam up to him with naiads in tow, percy couldn't help but listen
"lord! lord! you'll never believe what we just heard!" the shark cried, swimming circles around percy in his excitement
"go on," percy encouraged, briefly passing his hand over the shark's fin before the shark was mentally gasping in a big breath to do a long ramble
"okay okay okay! so, your lady in waiting had been talking with a few of the river naiads up stream. and she was talking about you, my lord!"
percy was silently waiting for the new information to come
he was well aware of the fact that you struggled to have conversations that didn't revolve around him
and he would know as he struggled with a similar issue when it came to you
"and she was talking about your hair and your eyes and your smile! oh, and she also mentioned that she thought you were the funniest boy she'd ever met, my lord! then she was talking about how good you looked in some shirt the other day-"
"wait, wait, which shirt??? did she say, like, a color or something??" percy cut in, leaning forwards as this information was important to him
"umm, i think she said navy blue?"
"yes! alright, go on," percy cheered, making a mental note to wear that shirt more
anything to keep her eyes on him
not that he had to try super hard but still
"and she talked about rings! ones made of diamonds or something!! oh, and your mother being at some ceremony and something about father's giving away their daughters?? and white dresses. does she like white dresses? the story get's a little confusing here, i'll admit, my lord."
percy could have drown right then and there from excitement
you were talking about weddings while talking about percy
he took that as a good sign
and he'd go home later that summer and shyly ask his mother to walk him through the process of getting married
for, uh, unrelated reasons, of course
𝜗𝜚 jason grace
jason was a nervous fella, not one to eavesdrop or listen to conversations that didn't involve him
nonetheless, he couldn't seem to pull himself from the cracked doorway
every alarm was ringing in his roman mind, telling him that it was wrong and that he shouldn't be listening in on your conversation
but you were saying such lovely things!
"he treats me like im gold, like im something to be valued and taken care of. gods, he's so good to me."
it was like a little benchmark report on how he was as a boyfriend
and you know this guy loves reports and numbers and spreadsheets lmao
pros and cons list's best friend
but at the moment, you were struggling to list even a single con
"and he's such a gentleman. i don't think i've touched a door handle the whole time that we've been dating. or opened my car door, let alone drove."
jason smirked, pride oozing from him at the comments
he worked hard to make sure that you never saw another cloudy day in your life and he couldn't help but be a little proud that you took notice of those things
"what would you do if he asked you to marry him right now?" your sibling asked, with a wiggle of their eyebrows and a taunt in their voice
jason's muscles tightened at the comment and they jolted to run off, but his need to know kept him right where he was
"i'd say yes without a second of hesitation. i'm sure we've been married in past lives and we will be in future ones. so why delay the inevitable?"
jason was shocked, a rare feeling for the son of jupiter
but, once he recovered, he went running to piper, desperately asking her what the best way to find out your ring size would be
and not for just any finger, if you know what i mean.
890 notes · View notes
k2ntoss · 14 days
Note
hihi, it me, back again with more jason brain rot, this time brought to you by this random Instagram reel i saw while having dinner lol
anyway, just imagine this with Jay?? like, warm cozy domestic hugs and kisses in the middle of the kitchen?? simple domestic bliss?? absolute dreammmmmm 😭😭
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3nuMFVMRhe/?igsh=MXhqMWdtYTQxbDNqMw==
-🦊
ps. hope you're doing well lovely, miss you <3
i crave and need fluff bc i love me a little sweet jason !!!!!!!!!!! (i'm single and i want a nice relationship) i can't see the reel now BUUUUUT i'm gonna do my magic and be a simp and this could be a second fluffy part to that drabble with subby jason having to skip patrol after getting good head from his gf hehehe you can read thar here
sometimes having your girlfriend to call sick for you so you can take a rest earns you three well deserved days to sleep late and have comforting hours without having to worry about patching wounds or chasing after criminals.
so after a night of being completely unable to move from bed because of how dizzy his head was, he's clumsily going out of the bedroom looking for you, rubbing his eyes to try and push his tiredness away because he didn't liked the feeling of waking up after you, when you had already left the bed and he isn't able to pull you closer and kiss you right away.
it's funny to see him like that, while you wait on the living room drinking a cup of coffee for him to wake up you're able to see him walk out of the room still half asleep but he looks just too cute. jason is a 6ft tall guy, big as a wall and rough but there he was, dragging his feet, his hair all fluffy and the black hoodie he wore to sleep looking messy; you can see him walk to the kitchen and he grunts softly when he sees nobody there but as soon as he turns around he spots you.
you know what jason is about to trap you under his body but damned be his long legs because you're not able to properly set your cup aside when jason is letting his weight fall over you like a tired cat "wait, baby... the coffee" you say between giggles but it's too late when your boyfriend is cuddling himself into your arms, hugging your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck "good morning, jay"
"g' morning, princess..." he mutters, voice is still hoarse but sweet as he greets you "why were you out of bed?" jason asks, kissing softly a small trail in your neck as you wrap one of your legs around his waist.
"were you looking for me, love? i thought about making breakfast for you before you woke up..." you say softly, trying to move and lean a bit to leave your cup on the table but failing when he just cuddles more into your chest making you chuckle softly "you looked so pretty sleeping i couldn't wake you up... are you still tired, red?" and that nickname makes him grin goofily, he loves the way it sounds when you call him that and even more as you keep babying him with soft pecks on his forehead.
"i feel like i could sleep for a month... but only if you're there with me" jason's voice is a low rumble, his words sending shivers through her spine and that mixed with how sweet it was knowing that he wanted you by his side even when his last months as the red hood had been so tiring.
"want to make breakfast with me and then we go eat on bed? we could watch a movie, does that sound good?" you ask him, reaching to cup jason's face between your hands and pressing a soft kiss on his lips which he gladly accepts with a soft purr leaving his throat.
he nods and you can swear he's never looked so calm before, so well rested and it was just what he needed more than anything. jason was sure he had done a lot of harm and there would be days when he didn't feel like deserving you but right now, having his sweet girlfriend to look at him like he hung up the moon and stars makes him feel worthy of love and care, even the big bad red hood deserved to be babied after all.
"then let's go, big guy" you say, starting to squirm in a failed attempt to slide from under jason's body and he chuckles at it before moving with you on his arms, picking your body up and walking to the kitchen as he lets soft kisses fall to your cheeks and neck before putting you back down.
and the morning goes like that, jason wishes he could get more of this. the way you walk around the kitchen as he tries to help, pouting softly when you don't let him do everything because he has to rest, he loves the warmth he feels on his chest as you walk past him and he pulls you back to steal a kiss from your lips before you try to walk away only to end up with him clinging to your back, kissing the top of your head as you cook.
448 notes · View notes
bizbat · 23 days
Note
can you PLEASE write jason coming to you instead of anyone else. like i need that sooo bad please :)))
p.s i love your writing soo much. youre so talented, i am constantly giggling as i read
Always You . . .
🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️
🐼JJK Masterlist🐼
~ Jason Todd x Reader
~ Reader's appearance is not described
~ Wc: 1.086 K
~ This took forever omg, but yesterday I got food poisoning so I finally got some time to write this. Not my proudest work but wtv.
~ You can find more of my works here.
Above all else, he'll always come to you.
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Contrary to popular belief, Jason Todd can be gentle. You've seen it, in the way he slowly flips through whatever book he's reading so you can read it over his shoulder, or how his fingers softly caress your thigh when you're seated beside him as if you're made of glass, or in the warm way he smiles whenever Damian says something the reminds him he's a child.
He's gentle now too, his head resting in your lap, his shirt torn and soaked in what's now dried blood. You can barely keep your eyes open, but you promised you'd watch over him while he slept, just in case something went wrong and he choked on his own blood or vomit.
You had that same nausea when he first came to your apartment at five in the morning, the bile rising in your throat at the smell of metal and the sight of blood gushing out of his gaping-
Just remembering is enough to keep you awake.
It . . . hurts, for many reasons, knowing that he puts his own life in danger for people he doesn't even know. You don't know why he does it, all you know is that for the next week and a half, he'll take a break to let his stitches heal at least a little bit. It's never enough, though. He'll crawl back to you in a few weeks, a sheepish smile on his face and his stitches popped open.
You'll roll your eyes but you always fix them for him. It's become a routine. Not one you're exactly fond of, but a routine nonetheless. It gives you something to look forward to. Sometimes it doesn't feel fair. The fact that he's always on the brink of death when you see him, that he's always covered in scars and wounds and gashes, and above all that, the fact that he only seems to come to you to sew a bullet hole shut or wrap a broken arm.
It does get exhausting, but who are you to complain. At least he trusts you, that's what you tell yourself. He comes to you because you're the only person he lets get that close to him these days, because you're the only person who won't chew his ear off. All things you've told yourself. He comes to you because maybe, possibly, potentially, somewhere deep deep inside, he loves you. That's your favorite excuse.
"You're really pretty, have I ever told you that?" You're so deep in thought you don't even realize those deep cerulean blue eyes are now studying your contemplative expression. When you calm your beating heart you turn your gaze back to his. "I thought you were sleeping?" "I was," He wraps his arm back around your waist, holding himself closer to you. "But you were tuggin' on my hair."
You hadn't even realized you'd been running your fingers through his hair until he pointed it out, though at some point in your thoughts it seems your hands had begun twisting around the raven locs. Upon said realization you immediately pull your hand away, only for him to reach out and pull it right back. "I didn't mind it that much doll." His smirk is enough to clear your mind.
He slowly rises from his position, moving to sit beside you, resting most of his weight on your shoulder with a groan. His hand reaches to his side, where a particularly nasty gash resided, thankfully sewn shut by you. Once the pain subsides he moves his hand to check your handy work. "Not bad, not bad at all." He turns that stupid smile back to you and it fries your brain. "Getting better and better every time."
It does make you smile. You weren't always so good at fixing him up. He'd come in almost every night needing you to patch him back up. It took awhile for you to be able to get him back in shape so fast. "Jay," A long while, actually. "I . . . I've been wondering?" You slowly proposition him. "Yeah? About what?" He is genuinely curious, and he knows that look on your face. He sits up, taking his weight off of you and resting against the arm of the couch.
"Just-nevermind, actually. It's stupid." You hold your hands in your lap. "It's not." He hates when you do that. When you shut yourself down before he even gets a chance to answer. "Ask me, I won't be mad." He leans in closer, his hand on your knee, and he strokes it how he always does. It takes a second to gain back your confidence. "Why-why do you always come to me when you're hurt? I just mean wouldn't it be better to go to Bruce, or Alfred, or I don't know, a doctor?"
The only thing worse than his smile is his laugh. Like an icy breeze on a hot summer's day, or a dark cold wave crashing down on a yellow beach. It warms your heart and makes you feel stupid for asking in the first place, all at the same time. "Why would I go to any of them? I like you." He likes you!!! You were right!!! "Because I'm not a professional. I can barely give you stitches, I don't know what I'd do if you were-if you," The quiver in your voice breaks his heart.
He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest. "You don't need to worry about that. It's never gonna happen," He grabs your chin between his forefinger and his thumb and brings your gaze to his. "You take care of me, too much for me to be risky about that." You think you believe him, especially when he presses a kiss to your lips. Though you've tasted it a thousand times, you still wince at the taste of blood still clinging to his chapped lips.
He laughs when you grimace. "Sorry," He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He's quiet for a bit after that, silent as he holds you. Before too long he speaks again, breaking the, admittedly, uncomfortable silence. "I . . . I dunno why I always come to you. I guess I just . . . like it here. I like you." He's not looking at you when he says it, but you know he's being honest, and knowing him, he's understating.
It's enough for you, at least until next time. You relax into his body, satisfied. "I like you too Jaybird. I like you a lot."
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jinjeriffic · 2 months
Text
DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 3
Part 2
Tim reached up to rub at his temples and groaned. This was getting him nowhere. Normally he enjoyed going down the research rabbit-hole but this was ridiculous! Paranormal sciences were a bad joke. Most of it was conjecture, hearsay and unprovable theories with just enough scientific sounding jargon peppered in to confuse a layperson. Peer-review was practically non-existent, not to mention a proper scientific method. Francis Bacon would be rolling in his grave!
The slight hiss of the elevator doors opening interrupted his thoughts.
“Hey Replacement, you missed dinner!” Jason called, sauntering over with a loaded plate in hand. He set down a sandwich next to Tim’s elbow. “Alfie says he’s cutting off your coffee supply until you get some damn sleep. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna start prepping the knock-out gas soon!” he quipped, leaning his hip against the Batcomputer’s console. “Research on the League giving you trouble?”
“I wish.” Tim sighed, reaching for the sandwich, “The Assassins have actually been pretty quiet recently. I found some leads on suspicious political donations in Italy, but nothing I can tie to them directly. Talia’s in Paris as far as I can tell, working at an investment firm for God knows what reason. Probably money laundering related. And the ones holed up in Nanda Parbat have been quiet as murderous little church mice.”
“Ra’s isn’t up to anything? Colour me shocked.” Jason drawled sardonically, “You sure he’s not cooking up a new batch of demon spawn in that mountain of his?”
Tim shook his head. “You know Bruce destroyed his cloning labs after the last… incident. And I’ve found no records of the League procuring the necessary materials or equipment to restart production.” he wrinkled his nose, “Of course it’s possible that they used a shell company we haven’t come across yet, but I believe the odds are pretty low.”
“So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”
Tim’s mouth twisted in a frown. “Ghosts.”
“Ah.”
Jason stared off into space and Tim took a bite of his sandwich. Egg-salad, score! The Cave was silent for a while, only disturbed by the noise of the actual bats heading out for their nightly hunt.
“I can’t tell you for sure if ghosts are real or not. I don’t remember anything from when I was… dead.” Jason said haltingly, and Tim stilled. “But we’ve seen people come back under pretty weird circumstances. So why not ghosts?” Jason shrugged.
Tim chewed and swallowed before replying. “Because it’s one thing for the physical body to be restored, but some kind of nebulous ‘spirit’ lingering? Why don’t we see ghosts all the time then? Why don’t people come back? Why not…” Tim broke off.
“Your Dad?”
Tim nodded and dropped the remains of the sandwich back on the plate. It suddenly looked as appetising as cardboard.
“I don’t know, birdie. We still don’t know why I came back.” Jason snorted “Maybe the universe just has a sick sense of humour.”
Tim’s lips curled up in a mirthless smile. “Maybe the universe missed your terrible puns. Some of those still haunt me.”
Jason barked out a surprised laugh. “That was terrible!”
“The universe clearly made a grave mistake.”
“Stop it, I can feel my brain cells dying!” Jason groaned and gave Tim a light punch to the shoulder.
“Well we can’t have that, you have so few already!” Tim snarked, then quickly leaned to the side to evade Jason’s attempted noogie. Jason huffed and stepped back, crossing his arms.
“All right mister teenage genius. What have you dug up about ghosts then?”
Tim rolled his eyes. “There’s obviously tons of folklore from all over the world. Pretty much every mythology has stories about the spirits or souls of the dead returning to haunt the living. But if there’s a scientific basis to all this then it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Even the supposed leaders in the field are hopelessly biased.” He pulled up some documents on the screen. “Take these for example. The Doctors Fenton are supposed experts in the field of ‘Ecto-Biology’ as they call it, but their research papers would never fly with a proper scientific journal. A lot of it comes across as blatantly xenophobic towards the entities they are supposedly studying and their research methods seem geared towards confirming what they view as foregone conclusions. And most of their peers operate on the same track.”
Jason hummed thoughtfully as he skimmed one of the articles in question. “Do you think there’s anything to this, or is it all just a hoax?”
Tim snorted. “If there is, they haven’t offered any conclusive proof. Though they certainly seem to have made it work for them. The Fentons have a series of patents for weapons and defenses against these supposed ‘ecto-entities’ and it looks like there’s plenty of people gullible enough to buy them. I haven’t taken a closer look at their products yet, but a lot of it looks like something out of a pulp sci-fi movie.” He pulled up the image of what looked like a bazooka with green glowing parts. Jason whistled.
“So, con artists or mad scientists?”
“Could be both. Their financial records are all over the place and they’ve had some large transactions with what I’m pretty sure are shell companies in recent years. They live and operate out of a small city in Illinois.” Tim said, pulling up the relevant documents on screen.
“Amity Park?” Jason read aloud.
“Supposedly it’s ‘The Most Haunted City in America’. Seems on brand, doesn’t it?”
“It probably helps them stay in business. It looks like they have kids?” Jason pointed at the tax returns. Tim typed some search queries into the system.
“Two. One in high school, one just started her first semester at Metropolis University. With a full scholarship to boot.” He spent a few more minutes hacking into the university’s systems. “Here we go, Jasmine Fenton. Looks like she’s going for a psychology degree. And… hm…” Tim trailed off. Jason quickly realised what had caught his attention.
“‘The Damaging Effects of Envy Towards Metahumans? That’s a hell of a topic for a freshman-year essay.” Jason remarked.
“Yes. I wonder…” Tim drummed his fingers on the keyboard. “She might have some insight into her parents’ research.”
“And at a cursory glance, she didn’t drink whatever Kool-Aid her parents were serving.” Jason finished for him. “You wanna go pump her for information?”
“I might as well. If nothing else, maybe we can shut down a couple of mad scientists before they become a problem.” Tim stood up and stretched. “Time for a field trip!”
Part 4
757 notes · View notes
roturo · 9 months
Text
Written All Over Your Face dick grayson x reader
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→ summary: “Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”
→ warnings: SMUT. p in v, unprotected sex (don't be dumb and wrap it), enemies to lovers, heroe!reader, breeding kink, bulge kink ¿?, not proof-read, possessive behavior, begging...
words: 2k
TUMBLR IS BASED ON A REBLOG SYSTEM. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK. THANK YOU. ENJOY. SMUT BELOW THE CUT.
Being a heroe wasn't easy. Neither being considered a competition for Nightwing. The Ex-Robin. The Dick Grayson.
Both being ¨super-heroes¨ with no powers brought many controversial articles between you two, not only at the Gotham-Batman times, but also now at the new Titans times.
You never thought seeing him again and his boyish smile and attitude. No wonder why he has many girls falling for him, not only as Nightwing, but also as his real identity. But this rough times between the heroes, made the destiny bringing you together again.
Both of you had mutual friends, and when Dawn invited you to meet the new Titans, and asked you for help to train them, you never thought of seeing him again, neither of both of you training teenage kids how to become high quality-trained super heroes.
¨Sorry.¨ Were the last words you heard from Dawn, when she left you with bird boy at the training room, giving you an apologetic smile.
God bless her natural charm and being the trusting friend she is because you couldn't hit her face right now with the rage you're feeling.
¨Hi!¨ A green-haired boy said to you, he had the same, maybe not as pretty, boyish smile like Grayson. ¨Hello...?¨
¨Gar.¨ He told you, not putting down the smile.
With just a nod and a not so happy smile, your eyes moved into a purple-haired girl, who just smiled at you and said her name. ¨Rachel.¨ She hit the boy next to her with her elbow, murmuring his name.
¨Jason.¨ He said, ¨Is this your girlfriend Dick? Because she's pretty good looking for a guy like you. But yeah, what she's doing here anyways?¨
Oh. Yeah. Bird boy. He's here.
¨Yeah Grayson, what’s going on?¨ Completely ignoring the fact Dick was about to answer Jason’s question with furrowed brows and you obviously knowing why you're here since Dawn explained you. ¨And no, i'm not his girlfriend.¨ You looked at Jason with a smile which changed into a fake smile when your eyes returned to Dick. ¨He wishes.¨ You said, your head turning to the side, obviously trying to make him angry. At which he only scoffed, knowing you well enough to know what you were trying. ¨Yeah number two, maybe we can just pass at me explaining you why you´re here.¨
Number two? He WISHES.
¨I know why am I here. I don´t know if your little brain remembers you made Dawn bring me here to help you train this kids.¨ You got closer to him, not breaking eye contact. ¨And number two? pfft, If you were number one, maybe you wouldn't have been replaced by new Robin here.¨
That got him exactly where you wanted him. He might seem like a strong and rough guy, but behind all that image of big boy, there’s nothing else but trauma.
You couldn’t help but notice how his jaw clenched at the small giggle Jason let when you mentioned Dick being replaced. Side-eyeing him, Jason stopped. Dick sighed trying to calm himself down.
“First. I didn’t know Dawn brought you here, she just told me about bringing the perfect person to help me train them, I was not expecting you.” You could tell he was still angry at the remark, so he wanted to correct you. “Second. I didn’t got replaced. I left Wayne by choice of mine.”
“And third. I’m not longer Robin.”
It got into a really tense vibe between you and Dick trying to kill each-other with just your eyes, everyone in silence, clearly uncomfortable at this new encounter.
“Can both of you stop eye-fucking eachother and can we finally start the training?” Jason said, trying to bring both of you back to earth.
That clearly caught both of your attention to what Jason said, clearly annoyed at the wrong remark of how both of you were looking at each-other. “We’re not “eye-fucking” each-other Jason, stop getting into other’s people conversations.” With that, Dick started grabbing everything for the training of today, moving on. Jason just raised his arms at the air, (like when they’re showing they’re not armed), with a small smirk on his face.
“Well, you know what they say, Love and Hate are two sides of a very, very thin line. For what I can see, you have a pent up sexual frustration written all over your face Dick.”
That brought a hard, and big laugh to your face, how could Jason say that? This kids don’t even respect their “leader” This was going to be a funny training.
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After what seemed like 1 hour of training, and getting to know the kids, you could get which were the flaws and weaknesses. Maybe you couldn’t understand quite well Rachel’s powers, but some time will do it.
You asked Gar where you could sleep the night, since it was already getting late and your most likely staying some days here, you'll also need some extra clothes at least for today.
Gar told you to stay in the spare room next's to Dick's, great, what a nice neighbor you have. He also gave you some clothes you could use tonight, tomorrow you could go back to your place and get some clothes, your skincare.... and I guess your super-hero suit.
When going out of the bathroom after a long shower (which you deserved), Dick was standing there, shirtless, all sweaty, and just with some grey sweatpants on... he looks.... nice, yeah. Obviously annoyed but when he saw you, his face turned into... panic?
He doesn't know what's happening to him right now, might be stress he needs to get relieved, yeah, sure, that's the reason he feels his pants getting tighter every-second he keeps looking at you right now.
¨Are you okay bird-boy why´re you just static over here, I know you have problems, but this a new one.¨ You looked up and down at Dick's figure, obviously checking him out, not like he needs to find out, noticing he´s quite handsome, not like you would tell him also, he's hot, and he knows it.
¨That´s... That´s my shirt¨ Was all that Dick could say, well, shit.
You knew the t-shirt had a distinct laundry soap scent which remind you of someone, and maybe a pint of perfume, but who could blame you?! Might be Gar's or Jason's!
¨And those... are my boxers.¨ double shit.
You could see he was obviously blushed and you're sure you are too, but what a coincide. It's like you could hear Rachel, Gar and Jason's laughing at the both of you.
¨Well... do want me to give them back at you?¨ You broke the tense silence, trying to take your, his, shirt-off, completely forgetting you're in front of him, you needed to find a way out of here.
¨No, no, no, stop! Leave it there, then you give it back to me.¨ He assured you, grabbing your hands and pulling them down with your, his? t-shirt. ¨And it looks better on you anyways.¨ That's all he said before speed entering to the bath-room.
¨Hey Dick!, Wait.¨ To say you couldn't feel the wetness of your pussy going out and asking for some relief, would be considered a crime. ¨What do you ne-¨ You cut him off by entering the bath-room closing the door in the process, both of your lips connecting in a perfect symphony like they were made for each-other. He left a sudden whine at the loss of the soft touch of your lips.
¨Oh.¨ Was all he could say, you don't understand what happened to you, it wasn't definitely a normal behavior between you two. ¨Oh my god. I'm so sorry Dick, I don't know what happened to me, i'm-¨ You couldn't finish the last sentence when you felt his lips in yous again. A little hesitant this time, he stops, unsure of his actions, but he lose it all. ¨Do it again.¨
That's all he needed to continue kissing you, hands caressing you neck, positioning them as a chocking posture, later going to trace your jaw as he continues kissing you.
He started giving you kisses trailing down your chin, making you moan at the specific spot that made your legs shake, he started leaving love bites between your chest, later going down on you, pulling your t-shirt upwards, getting between your breasts and marking them as his.
¨Please Dick... Please make me feel good.¨ It´s like something got into him when his hands started roaming your body like crazy, pulling your shirt off, your hand reaching his sweatpants, and later his cock, noticing he has no underwear under neat it. ¨It's like you were ready for this bird-boy, ah!-¨ Even when you try to tease him, he finds a way to tease you back even in a better way, his fingers playing with your nipple had you giddy and trembling. ¨Be a good girl if you want me to fuck you.¨
All you could do is nod and start stroking his hard cock, already leaking pre-cum which made the stroking easier, playing with the head had him as a moaning mess.
“Fuck, wait — shit. Mm— fuck. Wh-where did you learn to do that?” He left a whiny moan at the lose of your touch.
“Well, the noises you make are a pretty good indication of how you like it.” He man-handled you, turning you around, making you see yourself at the mirror.
“…God you sound so fucking cocky right now and it’s turning me on even more.”  He ripped apart the boxers you were wearing. ¨Don't worry, I have plenty more.¨ Fuck him and his fucking pretty smile.
With no more waiting, he positioned himself, and started thrusting into you. He fits just right, and could touch all the places you couldn't reach.
“Let me know if I’m doing anything wrong, okay? I want to make you feel as good as possible.” Even when he's fucking your brains out, he finds a way to be that kind and nice guy he is.
“O-Okay.”  Was all you could tell him, before & after some moans and whines from both of you, one specific thrust had you seeing stars.
His hand lingered down your tummy and he moaned at the bump he could feel, when he was going in and out with his thrusts. ¨Oh baby, I'm going to make you mine, fill you up.¨
He started playing with your clit, it had you crazy all the feelings of his body, his thrusts, him.
¨´You´re so good for me, all for me... 'm gonna' fill you up with my babies, 'm gonna make you a mommy, full of my cum every-day just to make sure.¨
That was all you needed to cum, with just some last thrusts he came inside you too, fulfilling his promise of keeping you full of his cum. He waited for you to calm down, before he inserted two of his fingers, recollecting the cum that was falling out your hole, inserting it inside you again, making you moan at the sudden intrusion.
He got the tub ready, and got you inside it, in front of him while he cleaned your sore body while kissing it.
¨I can't believe it took me all this years to realize how I feel about you.¨ Your heart was anxious at how your confession would be received.
¨Doesn't take an idiot to figure out. You couldn't tell I was and I am in love with you because you were too busy trying to beat all that rivalry. I was in love the moment you kicked my ass for the first time.¨
You chuckled at the confession, and laid your head on his shoulder where you could see his dumb smirk. ¨You have that stupid smirk on your face again, can't you have a serious conversation with me?, can we fight again?¨
He laughed at your comment ¨Not a possible thing for me when you look this cute all marked by me and confessing your feelings for me.¨ The small pecks he started leaving on your neck and back had you giggling.
¨I love you.¨
¨I love you too, bird-boy.¨
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amomentsescape · 3 months
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can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅
Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester
Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior
A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.
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Freddy Krueger
The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs
You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?
You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are
However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...
Freddy's smile fades
Of course you wouldn't leave him
But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?
The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care
He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong
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Michael Myers
The kidnapper was careless
Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?
His abilities know no bounds
He finds your location within a single night
All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room
But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax
You weren't sure he would come for you
But here he was
And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home
Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now
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Jason Voorhees
He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods
He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you
The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red
He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant
His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream
His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt
He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms
He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself
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Thomas Hewitt
When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics
You didn't leave him... did you?
He thought you were finally happy
Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you
He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams
Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home
Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door
Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up
You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in
He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up
He carried you home without any hesitation
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Bubba Sawyer
The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around
Doesn't even want to consider that you left him
You've been so good the last few months
There's no way you would have just left like this
After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice
You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go
The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry
They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw
They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half
He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face
He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time
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Brahms Heelshire
Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part
Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?
And wherever you are, he will be too
The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you
The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over
He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper
You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp
He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt
He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night
His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything
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Norman Bates
Everything is a bit of a blur
He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight
You weren't reckless
He knows you wouldn't have done this
He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black
He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor
An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere
But you and his child are safe
That's all that matters now
And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again
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Billy Loomis
Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone
There is no way you're going to leave him
Never
He'll break into every house in this town if he has to
And that's just what he does
It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair
Oh you poor thing
Of course you didn't leave him
The scene before you quickly becomes bloody
A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you
He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply
It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes
There really is no limit when it comes to Billy
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Stu Macher
He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone
Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife
He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must
When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it
And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops
He lunges, and things go out of control
Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care
He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt
When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all
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Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you
Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse
He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place
And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious
He smashed his way through the window immediately
The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act
You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you
He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay
He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home
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Bo Sinclair
If he can't have you, no one can
When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try
He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up
Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face
You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this
Will knock them unconscious and take you both home
He'll make their death a long and painful one
But it's another addition to the wax museum
One that he is most proud of
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Lester Sinclair
He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him
He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child
He can't just let you go that easily
He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did
But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned
Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger
He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first
His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death
He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again
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wynnyfryd · 5 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 26
part 1 | part 25 | ao3
cw: period-typical homophobia, recreational drug/alcohol use
He’s marching over the grass with a couple of varsity guys; two on his left, two on his right; V-formation like a flock of geese. Jason's at the head of the group, self-assured purpose of a leader, and it’s weird, seeing this little runt all grown up. The kid used to worship Steve; used to follow him around practices like a lost puppy, called him Captain before he’d even earned the role.
“Is this freak bothering you?” Jason asks. His voice is harsh, winded, winding up for a fight. Steve can see it in his stance: the tightening of his jaw, the clench of his friends’ fists. Plant your feet.
Steve’s gotta shut this shit down before it goes where it always does. Smashed plates, broken bones. All pissing contests flow toward the ocean or whatever.
“Nah, man,” he answers, standing up to dust himself off. The coke zips under his skin, makes him jittery and hot. Hard to play it cool. “We’re good. Busted my ass on the rocks; Munson was just helping me up.”
Munson. Like they’re buddies. Like Eddie’s thumb isn’t still damp from Steve’s tongue.
Jason doesn't seem to buy it. Little pastor-cop in training, he narrows his eyes and turns on Eddie. “Were you following him, Freak?”
Eddie's eyes flash in warning, a muscle jumping in his jaw. Steve shifts his weight to stand in front of him, and his fingers twitch around empty air. He wishes he had his nail bat with him; kind of wants to glue the handle to his palm.
Never know when monsters will come crawling out of the woods.
"Well?" Jason barks, "Answer me!"
His lackeys all pipe up then, the guy to his right sneering, "Not so talkative without his lunch table to stand on, is he?"
"Look at him shaking," adds another.
"Think he was trying to do some Satanic ritual shit while no one was looking?"
"I don't know," says the guy on Jason's left. "Looked like they were sucking each other off to me. Hey, maybe Harrington’s turned fag.”
“Andy!” Jason warns, and Steve—
Steve staggers forward with three arrows in his chest. One for every letter of that stupid fucking word that's been haunting him for years; raging fire in a black box in the far reaches of his brain, belching thick, black smoke, singing his fingertips whenever he gets close enough to touch it.
He wonders if Andy can taste the sulfur in it, too.
“No, go on,” he seethes, voice deadly calm when he lays a hand on Andy’s chest. Steeple his fingers, tips his chin. “Say it again; don't think I heard you right.”
Andy swallows hard, grinds his teeth; tenses to square off for the fight, but Jason throws an arm in front of him. "Easy," he says.
Easy. Down boy.
Andy snarls and backs off.
Jason lowers his voice, searching Steve's face. "You sure you're good? Can't be too careful with..."
His gaze slides over Steve's shoulder, his nose wrinkling in disgust. Steve's never wanted to risk a concussion more. "I'm fine," he grits out, balking at the diplomatic bullshit that's about to slither from his mouth. "Really. Thanks, though, man; appreciate you looking out for me."
Jason gives him a serious nod. "Any time."
“So, uh…” Eddie squints at Steve once Jason and his goons run along. His arms are hugged tight around his middle, and he's biting his lip; nervous jiggle of his leg. “How, um— How are we playing this, exactly?”
Steve scrubs at his face; swoons where he stands. Feels like all the blood's drained out of him without the adrenaline to prop him up. Goddamn, he's still so drunk. “Playing what?” he asks, confused.
Whatever it is, it’s already been played, hasn’t it?
Fight’s over; Steve’s exhausted. He just wants to go home.
But then Eddie shakes his head and tuts softly at the ground, his expression gone sour and sad, and there it is again. That feeling that Steve’s fucking everything up somehow.
He’s so tired of that feeling.
Slowly, so slowly, he reaches out a hand. Skims Eddie's side; leather jacket, bony hip, and then he hooks his pinky finger into the belt loop of his jeans. Tugs, just a little. Not hard enough to topple him, just—
Enough.
He hopes.
part 27
tag lists in separate reblogs with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content, comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)
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fic-over-cannon · 3 months
Text
Singing in the Rain
jason todd x f!reader
summary: you get caught in the rain after a date, and well, there's really only so much you can do to entertain yourselves until it stops pouring
tags: kissing, fingering, fluff
rating explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.6k
a/n: inspired by an ask from @orchidsangel. ro this prompt crawled inside my brain and would not let me know peace until i had written it
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The restaurant Jason chose for your date night was excellent, as always. Good drinks, better food, and even better, close enough to Jason’s apartment to walk to. It had been a beautiful summer’s afternoon, and the two of you had decided to walk to dinner, anticipating a walk back in the cool night air, hands interlaced and bellies full. 
“You know, this might just be my new favourite restaurant. Going to have to come down to this part of the city more often.” you sigh, satisfied. 
“Oh?” and a cocked eyebrow shouldn’t look so adorable on a man of his size but it does. “Are you saying that a good restaurant is your only draw to this side of town?”
“Well,” you pretend to think it over, “there might just be this cute guy I know that lives only a few blocks away. Maybe I’ll have to give him a visit too. Only after I’ve eaten myself silly of course.” 
“Yeah? Well I’ll just have to make sure the dessert I serve is worth your while.” He’s fully waggling his eyebrows, such an exaggerated leer on his face that you swat at his shoulder to try and get him to stop, but he just dances out of the way. He makes the most ridiculous faces, your Jason, when he’s trying to get you to laugh, and it works too. 
You’re almost bent in half from the force of your giggles, Jason coming to a stop in the pool of light thrown by the streetlamp to watch you dissolve. The giggles pass eventually, but the smile never leaves your face. Loosening your arms from where they’d been clutching around your middle, you start to straighten up, drawn into Jason’s orbit. The look on his face has transformed into something soft and real, eyes bright and lips parted a hair. His lock of white hair has fallen into his eyes, but he’s so transfixed by you in your floaty dinner dress that he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s got his arms wrapped around your back, drawing you close, head turned up to his like a flower follows the sun. If this were a movie, this is the part where he’d kiss you senseless under the stars and street light. 
What actually happens is the skies open up, buckets of water raining down on you in seconds. You give out a little shriek, surprised at the sudden cold interruption to your romantic evening. The two of you look up at the sky, as if your attention would change anything about the situation. Jason looks back down at you, mischievous grin catching your eye before his lips are on yours, warm and soft and slick with rain. He draws back far to soon, has you chasing after his lips for more. 
“C’mon!” he yells, barely audible over the sound of the rain. “I think there’s a phone booth up ahead, we can wait out the worst of it there.” He grabs your hand and turns, careful not to run too fast to risk you tripping in your heels on the wet pavement. 
The phone box is there, exactly where Jason said it was. It’s a tight fight. Jason’s a large man and the phone booth was only meant to hold one after all. You’re jammed into the corner, between the phone set and the side wall, Jason looming over you. His body swallows you up; if anyone were looking in from the outside, they wouldn’t be able to see you at all. He notices his hair dripping water into your face, slicks it back with one hand and leaning his elbow on top of the phone box, managing to take up even more space with that one movement. 
“So Mr. Todd, do you corner girls in phone booths often?” the line’s only marginally better than ‘do you come here often’, but your goal here isn’t to be a wordsmith, it’s to tease him. And it works wonderfully. 
“Only if they’re as pretty as you.” He leans down, presses a kiss to your forehead. “Only if they’re as clever as you.” A kiss, barely there, to the tip of your nose. “Only if they’re as maddening as you.” said, hovering right over your mouth. 
You shiver, whether from the rain or his words or his proximity, you couldn’t say. All you know is that you need him closer. Finally, after what seems like two lifetimes, does he give you what you want. He kisses you, softly. Nips at the swell of your bottom lip before licking into the seam of your mouth. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, keep you exactly where he wants you to be. Against the coolness of your rain chilled skin, his touch is like fire. You press your thighs together, overwhelmed with need but happy to carry on like this. The two of you get lost in the rhythm of lips and tongue, sweet and heady but tinged with desperation like you’ll never get this chance again. You shiver again, and Jason pulls back with concern, worried the rain has done you worse than expected. 
“Doin’ alright darlin’?”
The chill from the rain has gone from your cheeks, chased away by the flush in them. Your pupils are blown wide, eyes glassy and dark for the man in front of you. Your chest is heaving, breath stolen away from you by all of those kisses. His hand goes to your side to steady you, brushing the side of your breast in the tight quarters. Jason doesn’t miss the way that glancing touch makes your body go taught, legs pressing even tighter together. He doesn’t miss the way that your sodden wrap dress clings to your body, nipples visible even through the built in bra. The rain is still drumming away, sound and sight isolating the two of you in your own little universe inside the phone booth. 
“Or is there something I can help you out with?” his hand moves back up from your waist, cups your breast with a warmth you can feel even through the wet fabric. You nod, eagerly, and his thumb is brushing over your pebbled nipple with broad strokes. He kisses you, a distraction while his other hand starts playing with your neglected breast. If your panties weren’t already wet from the rain, they’d be soaked now. Jasons’ large hands feel so so good, cupping and teasing and cradling you, but you need more. 
Pulling back for a second, you grab at one of his wrists. Trail his hand along your body, enjoy the anticipation and trail of blooming heat as his large palm settles between your legs to cup you. 
“Need more. Please?” you asked through dewy lashes. 
He inhales, sharply. “Okay, but you tell me to stop if you don’t like something, got it?” You kiss him in response. Jason promptly shoves his hand down the front of your panties, a little shocked by just how wet you are already. 
“This all for me darlin’?” he grins, suddenly predatory. “Good.” And there’s a finger, thick and calloused and impossible hot sliding into you. It’s only one finger but the stretch is perfect, thicker and more satisfying than your own fingers, reaching so much deeper. 
There’s a moment’s pause as you clench down at the sudden fullness, then the finger starts to thrust, curling inwards on every forward motion. Jason’s kissing at your jaw but you can barely concentrate over how good he feels inside of you. He’s got his thumb on your clit, alternating firm circles with light taps and its driving you crazy. You’re so wet now, you can just hear faint sopping sounds every time he drives his hand into you over the thrum of the rain. 
A second finger prods at your entrance to test how ready you are, just as burning hot as the first one. It slides in with almost no resistance, pulling high breathy moans from you as he speeds up. He’s so thick, his two fingers splitting you open almost obscenely. On every thrust they curl into the soft spongy part of your walls that has you shuddering, pleasure sparking through you. The pressure on your clit never lets up, only varies, and the hand on your breast keeps kneading and teasing at your nipple. Your head falls back with a thunk, hitting the corner of the phone booth. There’s a high pitched whining sound that you vaguely recognize as coming from you, but you couldn’t stop it if you’d had the power to string together the thought to do so. 
Jason is relentless, thrusting and grinding his hand into you, encouraging you to ride his fingers, driving your pleasure onward. The pressure in your belly is growing, muscles twitching and tightening. You scrabble to hold onto anything, knocking the phone off its hook to dangle on its cord, pleasure twisting and tightening where Jason keeps fucking into you. 
When you come, it’s to ringing ears and legs unable to hold your weight up. Jason works a knee between your thighs and gets your hips to grinding against him to ride out the spasms of your orgasm. He pulls his hand out of your panties and waits until your soul has finally returned to your body before making eye contact and licking every last drop of you from his fingers. You shiver and twitch at the sight of his tongue curling around his knuckles to taste every sticky trace of you, grind your poor oversensitive clit into his thigh over and over. 
Jason helps you to unsure feet, wobbling like a newborn doe in your high heels. He pulls your panties up into place and helps you right your dress. He’s just finished retying the bow for you when the sounds of the rain peter off. He glances out the glass door as you smooth your hands down the wet fabric of your skirt one more time. 
“Rain’s letting up. Why don’t we run back to my place and have that dessert?” His grin is positively wolfish.
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