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ellebeae · 5 days ago

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good girl gone bad / jason todd x f!reader 18+

part 1 of my fuckgirl!reader x jason todd series (it will most likely become a series) warnings: smut, pwp, p in v, toxic behavior, mentions of cheating, swearing a/n: hiiii literally was inspired by this via my poll results so i had to cook something up. will most likely have a second part lol

Ever since your ex did you incredibly dirty six months ago, you’ve been on a revenge tour of sorts. He was the kind of guy who wanted to keep you down while he went out and lived his life. He didn’t like you partying, but was the king of the club on Friday and Saturday nights. Hated when you wore revealing clothing, but loved it on other women. Didn’t mind ignoring your calls, but got pissed when you didn’t pick up on the first ring. That kind of thing.

It shouldn’t have come as a shock to you when you found out that he was cheating, but it honestly did. It broke you, shattered your entire world. For three years you gave him the best version of you; you were wifey material, always cooking and cleaning his apartment when it got too messy. You were compliant, never minding when he had friends over well into the early mornings, and always kicking yours out before it got too late.

You were ideal: a perfectly perfect good girl.

But six months ago, after you figured out the truth of your ex boyfriend, that all went away.

For the first two months, you let yourself wallow in your sadness. How couldn’t you? It was three years of lies, when you thought it was something to write home about. It should’ve been a sign that your parents and siblings weren’t too fond of him, but you figured that was typical with families. News flash: it’s not.

By the third month, you kicked your ads into gear and locked in. Every picture was deleted from your phone, ripped out of mirrors and subsequently burned. He was blocked on everything, and you mean everything. You even filtered his email just in case. Passwords to streaming services and your amazon account were changed, and you had your locks changed because you were too messed up about him to have him drop off your spare keys. Any of his belongings that were left behind were simply thrown away. In hindsight, you probably should’ve donated them, but you didn’t want to taint another individual with the stains of him.

You joined a gym, started taking your self care seriously. Your nails were always done, long, sharp, and brightly colored in the way your ex used to frown at. He felt like you wanted attention, so you always stuck to pastels and shorter shapes to keep him off your back. You started seeing your friends more after apologizing furiously for the person and friend you were for three years. It’s not like you shut them out completely, but you did center most of your world around appeasing your ex. If they wanted to hang out but he wanted to come over, you knew who you were choosing. It was an unfair competition that they were in.

Then, you got on the apps. You figured tinder in Gotham couldn’t be more horrifying than meeting a man in person. You forgot how fun it was to get cute and take pictures with the intent of being looked at by another person. You made a tinder and hinge profile, keeping your tinder bio short, and the hinge prompts vague. You weren’t looking for a boyfriend, but for some fun that you missed out on while your ex threw your entire future together away.

By the fourth month, you had gone on a few dates, and by month five you had a roster. Albeit not long, but three star players that you didn’t mind seeing a few times a week. There was Vic; tall, muscular, funny, laughed at your jokes. Excellent cuddler. He’s a nice guy, the first guy you met on the apps. He took you on your first date that ended in a kiss and nothing more than a lingering hand on your waist. On the second date, both of you had the same idea: there wouldn’t be a third date, i.e. you two were just going to hookup and nothing more than that, and that worked out perfectly.

There’s Donovan, who you’re not too fond of, but he always makes sure you cum and is quick to offer you head if you don’t. There’s nothing wrong with him, but he gets kind of annoying and likes to make you upset on purpose. He’s your favorite person to drunk call because he always picks you up and falls for the bait. It also helps that he works a good paying 9-5, and sometimes buys you little gifts.

And then there’s Jason. You don’t even know where to begin with him.

Jason is the only one you didn’t meet on one of the apps. You met him on your first night out at the clubs since your break up. It took you five months to get out there, the fear of running into your ex too strong until one night you said fuck it and got dressed. Your intentions this night weren’t to meet people, but after a few drinks you couldn’t help but flirt with anything with a heartbeat.

And that’s what got you into trouble with Jason.

You literally bumped into him at the bar, his solid body colliding with yours when you took a step backwards and knocked into him. His big hand grabbed you by the hip to steady you, and he shouted “my bad” over the music despite you being the one to run into him. Some of your drink spilled out of your cup, and when he offered to buy you another one you didn’t say no.

There’s no denying your immediate attraction to him. He towered over you, standing at 6’4 (he let you measure him), with a muscular frame to compliment. He had piercing green eyes that shone when the strobe lights flashed across his face, to which you complimented. You didn’t even ask his name before your hand found its way to his bicep and squeezed. You should’ve been embarrassed, but he just smirked at you and let you do it, leaning back in the barstool when you felt up his chest and asked him if he worked out.

“Sometimes,” he said smugly, to which you rolled your eyes. The bartender slid your drink across the counter and its only then that you pulled your hand back from his pec and grabbed your glass. In most scenarios, you would just grab your drink and dip, but you decided to linger around him. Something about him made you want to be next to him, made you want to flirt with him harder until something blossomed from it.

Jason clinked his beer against your glass, and the two of you cheers’d before taking a sip. You expected him to ask you to dance, or to get your number, but he didn’t which made you a little nervous. All you could do was thank him and lean in to tell him you were going to find your friends. Jason leaned in as well, his mouth a couple inches from yours, and said, “any time”, his hand somehow finding its way back to your waist.

Heat spread through your body and you all but ran away from the bar and back to your friends who watched it all happen. “Did you get his number?” One of them had asked, and you embarrassingly shook your head no. They all clamored in your ear about how you should go back and talk to him, about how he was sexier than both Vic and Donovan, how he was looking at you like he wanted to eat you. That one made you flush, because you were definitely looking at Jason like you wanted to eat him.

All night you couldn’t not think about Jason, and how you didn’t even know his name but hoped to bump into him again despite barely even talking to him. You and your friends had left that club for another one, getting in for free because #women, and immediately made your way to the dance floor. Each time a tall man passed by, your heart raced with the possibility of it being Jason, but each time you were disappointed. Yeah, some of them were physically valid enough to make it onto your roster, but you had your sights set on someone specific.

You started to beat yourself up about not giving him your number, when you bumped into somebody for the second time that night. “My b-“ he cut himself off when you turned to look at him, a slow smirk sliding onto his lips as recognition flashed in his eyes. “You again.” His hand found its way to your hip again.

“You again,” you were grinning at him like an idiot, but he was smiling back. “I’m starting to think you want me to bump into you.”

“Maybe I do,” he said, pulling you closer to him, your chest pressing against his solid one. Your hands came up to rest on his solid pecs, and you were thankful for the darkness of the club because your cheeks were on fire. “Or maybe you’re following me.”

You scoffed. “I don’t chase,” you said. Jason laughed at this, head thrown back like it was the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah, I bet you don’t,” he replied once he gathered himself. He stared down into your eyes like he was fully trying to see through you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“Jason.”

He extended his hand out to you despite the fact that he had you pressed close against him. Now it was your turn to laugh at his ridiculous gesture—you were basically well acquainted by club standards that night. “Pleasure,” you said jokingly, and he winked at you.

At that moment, Wild Thoughts by Rihanna began to play through the speakers. You couldn’t help when your hips started to roll, and Jason didn't mind. He let you grind on him, grabbing your hand with his free one when you raised an arm in the air. He spun you around so your back was against his front, and but his bottom lip when you started to bend over and grind your ass onto his crotch.

You could tell Jason knew what he was doing when he caught it every time you threw it back. He knew when to move his hips with yours, when to grab you and when to let you do your thing. From the outside looking in, it was hard to believe that night was the first time you two had ever met.

When the song ended, you spun around to face Jason, hands grabbing at his jaw. He let you manhandle him, but stopped you before the two of you could kiss. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six!”

“Twenty-four.”

At that you cooed, “You’re a baby!”

That night he fucked you like the grown man that he is.

He managed to pull two orgasms out of you, the first with his tongue and the second with his dick. He’s was working you up to your third as he pounded into you from behind, your hair wrapped around his hand. He yanked you up every time you tried to drop your chin down, promptly telling you to “stop running.”

“Oh my gosh!” You moaned, pushing your hips back in time to meet his thrusts. One thing you know how to do is fuck back, and you showed Jason all night that you could keep up with him. He had fucked you like he had something to prove, like that ‘baby’ comment struck a real nerve. “F-fuck, Jason.” Your arms shook and you dropped down onto your forearms, the arch in your back deepening. “I c-can’t!”

“Yes you can,” he panted behind you, letting go of your hair to smooth a hand down your spine. It gave you butterflies, the intimacy of it all, and you quickly ignored the feeling when a hard smack was delivered to your ass. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You pussy clenched up around him, pulsing as he continued to shove his thick cock in and out of you. You dropped your head into your bed sheets and mewled out his name and a few curses. “Shit, baby, I’m c-close,” Jason breathed. His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, but he was really trying to get you to come again so he snatched you up by your hips and drilled into you like it was his life’s mission. Technically, it was his mission for the night.

A white-hot feeling pooled in your stomach, and you couldn’t even warn him when you came for the third and final time of the night, eyes rolling back as you gushed around him. Jason cursed above you and abruptly pulled out, yanking off the condom and shooting his cum onto your lower back and ass. He pumped his aching cock until nothing more came out, your ass a sticky mess. He was still hard, but you had lain limp on the bed and he wasn’t going to push you anymore for the night.

It’s safe to say after that night, he became your favorite. Like Vic, he’s sweet and caring, and provides you with the physical intimacy you missed after having it abruptly taken from you after three years. Like Donovan, he takes care of you in the bedroom. Unlike Donovan, he doesn’t try to piss you off on purpose, and you don’t mind having him around after you both finish. It’s easy to have Jason as your favorite when he checks all of these boxes and plays his role. It’s easy to get frustrated with Jason when he forgets his role, like right now.

You’re hooking your bra back on when you feel his gaze. You glance at him over your shoulder, a small, unreadable smile on his face. “What?” You ask, straightening the straps and stretching your arms over your head. Jason just keeps looking at you, back leaned against your headboard with your sheets draped over his lap. “What, Jason?”

He shakes his head a little like he forgot where he was. “Nothing…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes at him and grab an old tshirt out of your dresser.

“Stop staring at me, it’s weird.”

“You’re beautiful.”

You scoff and turn to face him one you pull your shirt on, your hands coming to rest on your hips. Standing in front of him like this only proves his point and makes his dick hard. “Yeah, whatever.”

“I’m serious. I mean it..”

Irritation flashes across your face. You hate when he gets sappy like this after sex—the other night he tried to cuddle with you after he emptied his load into the condom. You let him for a while before he started to kiss your shoulders in a way that made you feel suffocated. This revenge tour of yours had nothing to do with wanting a relationship and everything to do with being free. This casual sex thing was so supposed to be exactly that: casual. Not feelings, no strings. Not from you or the people you engage with. Jason was starting to toe a line.

“Thanks, Jay. But you’re not supposed to find me beautiful, you’re supposed to find me sexy and fuckable,” you say. Jason smirks at you and runs a hand through his hair, tilting his head to the side.

“I find you to be all of the above.”

“Oh my god, stop,” you say, spinning away from him and bending down to grab a pair of shorts from the bottom drawer. Jason obnoxiously wolf whistles at you and your entire body flushes in embarrassment. You could only handle this type of attention when you wanted it, and right now you don’t.

Slipping on your shorts, you glance at the clock on top of your dresser. “Don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Yep.”

You look at him over your shoulder and raise your eyebrows. He mimics your expression before it dawns on him that you’re kicking him out. For the second time this week. Again, he’s overstayed his visit and hadn’t even realized he was on a time limit. Jason scoffs and awkwardly scratches under his chin. “Wow.”

“‘Wow’ what?”

“Wow as in wow, you’re kicking me out,” he throws the sheets off of him and rises to his full height, stretching this way and that. You can’t help but ogle him as he stands on the side of your bed in all his glory. “Stop staring at me, it’s weird.” Jason parrots your earlier statement and your cheeks burn in embarrassment as getting caught. He smiles at your red face and retrieves his clothes, pulling on his boxers and then sweats. “Hey, you got any of my other shirts here? I can’t find the one I was wearing?” He asks. Jason can see it peeking out underneath your bed, and he discreetly kicks it out of view. Lately he’s been leaving shirts at your place on purpose accident, just throwing on his hoodies when he leaves instead. He’s been waiting for you to say something, but you haven’t yet.

“Uh huh,” you pad over to your closet and rise up on your toes to grab a short stack of folded t-shirts, all clean and all Jason’s. “Take your pick.” You say, holding them out to him.

He grabs the first one pulls it over his head while you go and put the stack back in your closet. Jason mentally notes that and tucks it away for now.

You grab your phone off the nightstand and aimlessly scroll on it while you wait for Jason to finish putting on the rest of his clothes. He pulls on his socks and then grabs his keys and wallet off of your dresser, the sound of the keys jingling grabbing your attention. You start walking out of your bedroom, signaling the finality of your night together, and stop in the hallway by your front door.

Jason shoves his feet into his sneakers and extends his hands out for you to shake like you guys always do. “It was wonderful doing business with you.”

“Pleasure,” you two smile at each other and Jason pulls you towards him and leans down to kiss you. You let him and pull your hand out of his to hold onto his broad shoulders. He kisses you with tongue, and it’s all fine until he starts to get handsy and you pull back from him. “Nuh-uh, out.” You say, pointing behind you to the door. Jason pouts and pokes out his bottom lip, trying to give you his best puppy dog eyes but you shake your head, finger still pointed at the door. “Out.”

“Mean,” he says, straightening up and rolling his eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We all know you’re miss ‘I don’t give a fuck’,” you roll your eyes at the title and pull the door open for him, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing him out.

“Goodbye, Jason,” you sing, already closing the door before he can get a word out. You lock it and lean against it, blowing out a breath and closing your eyes for a second.

Yeah, it was very easy to be frustrated with Jason todd.

dividers from @uzmacchiato

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ellebeae · 9 days ago

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🦇 ✦ ˚ : · NORA'S DC BOYS MASTERLIST · : ˚ ✦ 🪐

WALLY WEST

Red and Redder | Fluff ↳ Red Means Go | Fluff My Dream Girl | Fluff Talk Fast, Lick Faster | Smut

DAMIAN WAYNE

I Swear, I'm Not Choosing Them | Angst

TIM DRAKE

That Green Light, I Want It | Smut, ft. Conner Kent

ROY HARPER

Photobooth | Fluff Piercing Through The Heart | Fluff Trouble, Dickie Bird and Ginger Snap | Hurt/Comfort, ft. Dick Grayson At The Bar | Fluff

JASON TODD

Everything Feels Great With A Beer | Angst, Platonic

DICK GRAYSON

Nobody's Daughter | Angst, Platonic, ft. Roy Harper Night Muse | Angst

BRUCE WAYNE

more coming soon!

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ellebeae · 10 days ago

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†　　　 𓈒　( G̲I̲R̲L̲ OF ꨄ︎ STEEL ) . HEADCANONS!

我 ⸼ ࣪ ✿ ◌ ۪ contents. supergirl x fem reader, gf headcanons! ( sfw and nsfw )

notes. just watched superman 2025 and it was soooo good, and moving!!! the personality of clark kent rly speaks to me but i'm (probably) not attracted men so genderfluid! superman aka. kara zor-el headcanosn here i comeee. i'm not THAT edcuated on the comics, so if anything is wrong my apologies. these are just my own interpretations.

ꨄ︎ . weird sleeper. just by principle?? you two will be watching and enjoying a movie, get ready to turn the light off and she'll be like "wait up! i got to turn my whole body 180, and have one half of my body on the floor and the other on the bed!" dead serious about it too. never understood why you laughed at her for it. she's just a very silly sleeper by nature.

ꨄ︎ . a whole nother person during summer. will absolutly sunbathe all the time.. like imagine visiting her parents farm and sunbathing on the balcony alll the daaay. she pulls you onto her chest, and just sogs within the sun with you in her arms. and if you'll whine about the sun being to hot, she'd say smth cheesy like 'i'll protect you :3' while wrapping her arms around you, and you'd groan every time.

ꨄ︎ . super ears = super embarrassing. you cannot gossip about her at a shared party to your friend—she hears everything. but she also overhears when you gush about her (so a good 95% of the time), which makes her so giggly and touchy for the next few hours like 'that's what you said about me?' 'oh so you like me that way?' yeah, no shit.

ꨄ︎ . (suggestive) she doesn't know how to initiate sex. ever. absolutly the kind to huff out a breath, cheeks hot, and just mutter “do you wanna, um, like… if you want to. we could… i mean.” which makes her top notch at consent!

ꨄ︎ . (nsfw) that's not to say she can not dom. are u jokinggg??? those nights after rough missions, where she's fresh from that adrenaline kick and still a little angry?? uuuuh you getting your pussy ate out for hours at a time #oralwarrior

ꨄ︎ . (nsfw) as mentioned. oral fixation is insane. like she needs her mouth to be moving at all times!!! gum. straws. her tongue playing with your fingers, biting gently. you’ll catch her biting on your thumb lazily while you straddle her hips and she’s just looking up at you, all ms. nonchalant, eyelashes fluttering. “what?” she’ll mumble around your finger. “you taste good.” WHAT DO YOU MEAN??

ꨄ︎ . (suggestive) she’ll accidentally break things when she’s horny. not always. but sometimes she gets too flustered, grips the bed frame too tight. once you kissed her neck too gently and she bent the fork she was holding in half. another time she made you cum on her thigh and cracked the headboard. she's so sweet about it too :(((( "oh shit i didn't mean for that to happen!! i'll get a new on trust" just kiss me bro 💔💔

ꨄ︎ . (suggestive) BIG on titty. no matter the size. she is always touching. her head? in your chest. arms around your waist and her cheek to your cleavage while she whines about her day. mid way she'll start sucking and licking and just continue yapping about her day like she's not activelly making you arch back??? ok.

ꨄ︎ . (suggestive) praise, praise and PRAISE.

ꨄ︎ . (nsfw) while she's very good at praise herself, she needs the affirmation from you as well.. will accidently edge (SWEARS it was on accident) just to coo, "use your words, baby" because she likes verbal appreciation herself!!

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ellebeae · 10 days ago

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Please miss, say you're taking requests, I NEED an Jealous Kara Danvers or Supergirl x reader pretty please

You asked so nicely i shall deliver 😌😌 It's here, babe. I just adore writing for Kara so so much

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ellebeae · 21 days ago

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Jason’s alcohol tolerance is exactly 0.09%, which Dick knows. Which is the primary reason he roped his siblings into playing a drinking game.

At most, Steph, who likes to think she’s fluent in Jason, — or Batboys with repressed emotions, at least, — anticipated the following:

Angry shouting, maybe some swear words God definetly didn’t approve of, trying to fist fight Alfred’s plants, painting the Batmobile pink, and the works.

She definitely didn’t expect a ruby cheeked Jason to cry in Bruce’s lap.

“What the fuck are we gonna do if we don’t know eachother in the next life, huh?!”

Tim piped up with an a nerdy rant, — technically, if life were to reinvent itself into another existence, it’d simply be an alternative universe being created, — but Jason simply throws his shoe at him.

Bruce, much to Damian’s pride, doesn’t look shaken in the slightest. If he can handle his mother, he can handle everything,

“Sweetheart, I really think that’s not going to happen, thought,” he assures him with gentle conviction.

“But we’re not gonna know eachother! What the FUCK. I want to be your son in every life. I’m gonna kill God.”

“Please don’t kill God.”

“We’re Jewish, what do we care?!”

“Jay,” Bruce promised, “I would find you in every universe.”

That was supposed to make Jason feel better, not make him cry harder. But it’s cute Bruce tried, Dick thinks.

He still grounds all of them for paining the Batmobile, thought.

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ellebeae · 23 days ago

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⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

Reality show game player Jason! who did not want to go in the slightest bit was signed up (unwilling) by Dick and Tim as retaliation over something petty. He thought Bruce would side with him but he basically shrugged it off, saying it was "good publicity" for one of his sons to do it. Upon joining the show he saw that he wasn't the only child of someone famous there. With Jason growing up under Dick and Bruce he has a good amount of skills that were needed to pass the challenges.

He practically breezed through everything to the point that he was allowed to do most of them unless his team absolutely needed him. And just as he thought he did not have fun the entire time. Now admittedly part of it was him being a hard ass and hasn't really tried much to make bonds with other people. He had acquaintances but nothing crazy outside of that. Just naturally preferring the peace of mind that didn't come with getting involved in everyones buisness.

Other teams hated him because he was so good, but how own team? They were absolutely some of the dumbest people he had ever met. Yes the entire cast was just based on all of them being children of famous parents but damn they seemed to not know how to do anything for themselves. It was actually embarrassing for him to watch them go back and forth on things as simple as cooking and still be wrong!

The worst part was that they didn't even seem to care. Too busy getting into any and everyone's pants. Quite literally. There was only him and a few select people that at least one person on his team hadn't slept with. And now they were getting utterly destroyed by the others because of their incompetence.

That was when you were brought on.

You were basically the "savior" that was brought for Jason's team. He knew a little bit about you, hell they all did. The child of Harvey Dent and Selina Kyle, you were the nepo baby of all nepo babies in Gotham. Truly your mother's child especially when it comes to the looks. As for your father, you two shared a similar intellect. You were their only child, and you were their most prized possession. That made you adored by the fans of course, someone already so known by the media joining now. With the other teams though? Not so much.

They hated everything about you, especially because you gained the guys (and some of the girls) attention when you came in. It wasn't like anyone was hiding their attraction to you. Everyday you received a new compliment from someone.

Off rip for him he was a bit hesitant on how you joining would affect his already shitty team. He didn't need another flirt to come here and waste his time getting everyone all riled up. It was already bad enough he had to hear everyone else fucking because the team shared the same room. To say he was surprised by how articulate you were wouldn't be that much of a reach.

Now Jason knew about you before this show for sure. He didn't entirely know you but both of you being from Gotham he undoubtedly had heard about you many times. The most he interacted with you before this was just passing each other at galas you were both at because of your parents. How your brain worked during the challenges though is what drew his attention to you. Being able to draw your teammates in enough for them to actually help was a life saver for him. Whatever you lacked in strength he made up for.

Everything about how you held yourself though was just so breathtaking though.

It was honestly kind of difficult for him to get a good read of you at first. You didn't exactly wear your heart on your sleeve but you also didn't try to act all nonchalant either. It was more of you only showed things to certain people. And you seemed to gravitate towards him a little more than either of you realized at the moment.

So you two ended up forming an alliance. The two Gotham kids. It would only be a matter of time before word spread back home and absolutely all hell broke loose.

On long nights Jason ended up in your bed. Never anything over the top, just you two spending hours on end circulating plans on how to try and get your team to victory. You didn't know if he slept in your bed or not because by the time you got up he was always up and about.

At this point though in Jason's eyes his team was you and him. There could only be two real winners anyways, so it was nice that you still cared enough about the team that you were trying to make sure they stuck by you guys but he was not worried about them in the slightest.

Little glances at you when you first joined turned to him always looking for you if you weren't at his side. He needed to make sure you were safe and satisfied at every moment. Before he went to bed he always made sure you were sleeping first. It has been a moment where you shared how you used to stay up for hours to make sure your mom parents came home safely after causing havoc in Gotham. Know they were home made you feel safer. With that he took the initiative to always let you talk yourself to sleep with him. Every night he'd been the last thing you see before you went to bed.

It was the same thing when you woke up. Though you woke up without him it would be only a few minutes before he came back into the team's room to come get you for the day. Whenever someone saw one they saw the other. And if they didn't that just meant it wouldn't be long before the other would be trotting over.

In the back of your mind the thought couldn't help but linger, what if this wasn't going to work. Neither of you exactly put a label on what you were. Now though you didn't know much about Jason before this you did know about his dad. Though he had a decent relationship with your mother the same couldn't really be said with your father. They had moments but most of the time to tell would clash heads like two bucks going at it. You knew at least for your sake your dad would suck it up so you could be happy. It was no telling how willing Bruce would be.

But being with Jason it just...your heart felt so right. It was like puppet strings on your heart, wherever he went it seemed to follow. This wasn't quite a feeling that could be explained into words. Whenever he came around it was like being able to watch your favorite song on repeat, because no matter what you know that it will make you feel at ease.

Heat was filling Jason's body, the steam from the hot tub. Just one night to relax is all the man wanted. Both his team and the others all inside their respective rooms partying, leaving him to his thoughts. He was actually enjoying the moment. His shirt on the side of the hot tub on the ground letting his scarred upper half feel every bit of water. His head leaned back against the edge, eyes shut enjoying the silence that was so rare on the show.

It had been all of thirty second before he felt eyes on him. Opening his own he saw you. Leaning up against the railing of the doorway a couple hundred feet away.

"Cmere, you're too far for my liking."

His tone was light. Something that he never allowed to happen around any of the other castmates. Hearing your light footsteps he sat up and crossed his arms, watching you like a predator waiting for its prey to get right into its trap.

"Thought you were sleeping already?"

"Was. They took over the room and it is too loud now."

Of course they were. They knew damn well if Jason was inside that shit would be shut down ASAP. He was gonna set them straight later for waking you up. For now though, he was gonna enjoy you guys time.

"You joining me?"

"Don't have a bathing suit."

"So?"

It just almost made you chuckle. A light smile appearing on your face as he suddenly stood up. His body covered yours from the camera as you stripped off your shirt and pants leaving you in your underwear. One large arm wrapped around your waist and lifting you to sit on his lap, chest to chest like it was nothing. Drinking you in as if you were the finest wine in Gotham.

"You look real good tonight."

"Yeah?"

He didn't even have to answer; you could see it all on his face just how smitten he was with you.

"You already know the answer to that."

His lips moved softly against your neck, trailing up all the way to your ear.

"You know, I don't live for him. Everything I do, anything I do, I'm not gonna make it about having my father's approval."

Now you hadn't exactly told him your concerns about you guys family. You didn't have to though. He already had that all planned in his head. Unlike his father he actually did have a decent relationship with both of your parents because he wasn't exactly the "good boy" facade that Bruce had him act like for the cameras. He had his share in corruption for his benefit and what he fought for.

"Jay."

"I know. No, no one didn't tell me. I just know you. You like to think about every possible outcome of every little thing."

"Well this is big. It's like our whole likelyhood. And I don't wanna ruin your family over whatever we have going on right now."

"What we have is more than we've actually talking about. I know I haven't came out and said it directly and thats my fuck up. In no way is this something I can let go though. I can't let you go. This game doesn't mean a thing to me, but it did bring me to you."

"What about your family? Your dad Jason? It's gonna look like I'm trying to break you apart or turn you against him and that is the last thing I want."

"My old man's problems aren't mine. If he gets mad it's like, so what? Fuck is he going to do to me? I've been grown for years, it's my turn to have my own family. You are my family baby. I love you. And I'm not letting nothing stop that."

A silence took over you two as you leaned into his embrace. It wasn't a bad one but one of mutual understanding. An understating that it was you two against everyone. Jason was willing to drop who and what he needed to put his happiness as number one for once. Neither of you expected to come to this game to fall in love.

Definitely not be in love with someone who the world thought you'd be enemies with. But that was the glory of this all. Because regardless of what was to come after this game ended for you two you both knew that you now had each other to love and rely on.

"I love you too Jason."

The next episode would be like no other for the viewers all because of you two.

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

Based off shit like Love Island and Big Brother but I've yet to watch either so🤷🏽‍♀️

@mtcloudsworld @silas-222

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ellebeae · 24 days ago

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i am still on break but i’ve been plagued with two ideas and i would like to share them, the first is knight!roy harper and princess!batsis reader where roy strongly feels that he is not good enough for reader and even tries to find her other suitors that could be better for her, the other one is streamer jason todd

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ellebeae · 26 days ago

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heaven | jason todd

genre: smut (fem! reader!) 18+

warning: oral (male! receiving), slight degradation, small mention of munch jason <3

summary: jason’s version of heaven is his pretty girl on her knees

a/n: i don’t like giving bjs but if jason were mine my mouth would be open 24/7

Jason’s never been to Heaven, but he swears it looks just like this.

You were on your knees in front of your bed, tears in your eyes as your pretty little lips wrapped around the first few inches of his cock. He groaned at the sight, wanting to close his eyes but forcing himself to keep them open. He couldn’t miss one moment of this.

Jason was a little weary at first when you asked him to fuck your face. He knows he’s bigger than average, and you already gag when giving him a blowjob on your own. But you asked him so sweetly, reassuring him that you’d be able to handle it. And how could he refuse his sweet girl of what she so desperately wanted?

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” he let out in a low murmur, his hand reaching out to twirl a finger around a lock of your hair. He groaned quietly when your eyes seemed to gleam at the praise, wet eyelashes fluttering for him. God, you were already struggling to take him. His strong, brave girl.

“Can you go further?” he asked, his hand slowly moving to the back of your head. He didn’t move yet, just tangling his fingers within the locks. You inhaled shakily through your nose, giving him a small hum of agreement. “Good girl… so good f’me.”

Jason pushed his hips forward slowly, watching another thick inch of him disappear past your lips. He bit his lip back, staring as your eyes closed momentarily.

“Nuh, uh. None of that. Eyes on me, ‘kay, sweetheart?” Jason gruffed, gently tugging your hair. Your eyes fluttered open and your soft, gentle hands placed themselves on his outer thighs. You looked back up at him, Jason’s heart racing at the sight.

“You’re gonna keep those pretty eyes on me while I use your mouth, yeah?” he questioned, feeling you squeeze his thighs as a sign of confirmation. He smiled, his grip tightening slightly on your hair.

Then, without warning, Jason began to thrust his cock into your mouth. Sweet whines and gagging noises left your mouth as he fucked your face, your sounds only spurring him on more. Jason groaned, pausing for a moment.

“F-Fuck, we should’ve done this sooner…” he grumbled, his chest heaving a bit. “Knew you’d look all cute like this f’me, too.”

In response, you nuzzled your nose against the short curls at the base of his cock. With your eyes still on his, you swallowed around his head, your throat constricting around him deliciously. Jason let out a shaky moan, not wasting another second before resuming his fast-paced thrusts.

“W-Where the fuck did you learn to do that?” he breathed, feeling his cock twitch as he bordered the line of release. “Fucking naughty. Bet you like being used like this too, huh? W-Wanted to be my cumslut so bad. All you had to do was ask, sweetheart.”

The tip of Jason’s cock was hitting the back of your throat with each thrust, the tears in your eyes now streaming down your cheeks. With one final buck of his hips, he let out a guttural moan, his body leaning forward. He caught himself on the mattress with one hand, his other hand still holding your head to his pelvis. He breathed heavily, his head bowing down to look at you.

You whimpered at the new angle, Jason’s thighs pushing against your shoulders and keeping you trapped against the side of the bed. Your eyes were still on his as his cock remained in your mouth, his hot cum filling those cheeks of yours.

He could spend forever admiring you like this.

But he wasn’t a complete sadist, and he knew you needed a break after your first time doing this. He pulled out of your mouth, watching a line of spit connect his tip to your bottom lip.

“The damn prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled, his grip on your hair loosening as he began to fix the strands. “You okay, sweetheart? Better have swallowed all of me up.”

You nodded, mouth opening as Jason moved to kneel in front of you. You stuck your tongue out, and Jason leaned forward to tangle his tongue with yours, tasting himself on you and your lips.

“Atta girl,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you once more before suddenly picking you up by the backs of your thighs. You gasped as he moved to lay back on the bed, pulling your hips up to hover over his face.

“My turn, now. Make sure to get comfy and sit all the way down, sweetheart. Gonna be here a while,” he said, easing your thighs apart with his elbows so your pussy was mere inches from his mouth. “I’m a slow eater,” he grinned before pulling your hips down and burying his face in your sweet pussy.

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ellebeae · 26 days ago

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Sweet on You

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Baker!Reader

Summary: Jason Todd has been a regular at your bakery for weeks now, always ordering the same thing: coffee, black, and a raspberry scone. You thought it was just about the food—until he started sticking around for the conversation.

Warnings:

Mentions of Jason’s vigilante lifestyle (bruises, rough nights)

Reader works in a bakery (talk of food, pastries, etc.)

[Masterlist]

The bell above your bakery door chimed, signaling a customer’s arrival. You glanced up from frosting cupcakes to see a tall figure in a leather jacket stroll in. Jason Todd.

He’d become a regular over the past few weeks, always ordering the same thing: a coffee, black, and one of your raspberry scones. At first, you thought he was just a fan of your baking—until you caught him watching you out of the corner of his eye one too many times.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jason greeted, leaning casually against the counter. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and there was a hint of a bruise peeking out from his jawline. Typical.

“You look like you had a rough night,” you said, grabbing a scone from the display case.

“Gotham never sleeps,” he replied with a smirk. “But I hear your pastries make everything better.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Flattery won’t get you a discount.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jason said, sliding a crumpled bill across the counter. “But if I keep coming back, you might start charging me extra for the charm.”

As you poured his coffee, you glanced at him again. There was something about Jason that intrigued you something more than his rugged good looks and the way his smile could light up a room. He was guarded, but when he looked at you, it felt like the walls he kept around himself cracked just a little.

“Here you go,” you said, sliding his order toward him.

Instead of taking it and leaving like he usually did, Jason lingered. “So, how’d you get into this whole baking thing?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What, suddenly interested in my life story?”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You know, getting to know the person behind the best scones in Gotham.”

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “I’ve always loved baking. My grandma taught me when I was little. There’s something about it that feels... grounding. Like no matter how chaotic life gets, I can always count on a batch of cookies to turn out right.”

Jason’s expression softened. “That’s nice. Grounding’s good. Especially in this city.”

“What about you?” you asked, folding your arms. “What do you do when you’re not charming bakery workers and drinking questionable amounts of coffee?”

Jason hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “Freelance work. Kinda all over the place.”

You tilted your head, sensing there was more to his story. But you didn’t push. Instead, you nodded toward his scone. “Well, whatever you do, it seems like you’ve got good taste in pastries.”

“Best decision I’ve ever made,” Jason said, his voice lower now, a touch more serious.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, the usual playful banter replaced by something... softer.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. “You ever need someone to taste-test new recipes, I’m your guy.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm. “I’ll keep that in mind, Todd.”

As Jason turned to leave, coffee and scone in hand, he paused at the door. “See you tomorrow, sunshine.”

The bell chimed again as he walked out, leaving you smiling to yourself. Yeah, tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

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ellebeae · 1 month ago

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i'm

— SWEET VELOCITY

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑗ason peter todd

contains: modern au, bakery!au, gn!reader, 3k wc, racer!jason & baker!reader, fluff, mutual pining, nervous and shy jason, author tried to research bakery ’n racing terms :p

𓏲 𓌔𓌔 ➴ㅤㅤProfessional race car driver Jason Todd sneaks into your bakery every morning to indulge his secret sweet tooth while avoiding fan recognition. When you finally piece together that your quiet customer is also your favorite food blogger, you can’t help but feel something for him. Fortunately for you, the feeling is mutual.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘✿𓏲

The bell above the door chimes softly as Jason pushes into the small bakery, shoulders hunched and baseball cap pulled low. It’s 6:41 AM—early enough that the morning rush hasn’t started, late enough that the display cases are filled with golden pastries that make his mouth water despite himself. He shouldn’t be here. Again. But the cinnamon rolls at Flour & sugar have ruined him for anywhere else and he’s got a race this weekend that’ll probably end with him stress-eating his way through half their stock.

You’re piping the last of the vanilla buttercream onto a batch of cupcakes for the display cases when you hear the familiar chime of the front door. It’s early—earlier than most costumers venture out for pastries—but you know exactly who it is. The same broad shoulders, the same cautious way of moving through your small bakery like he’s afraid of being spotted. He’s been coming here for three months now, always cash, always generous tips, always gone before the morning crowd arrives.

You have a regular customer who thinks he’s invisible. He’s not.

Of course you’ve taken notice of him. It’s impossible not too. At first you didn’t give his presence that much thought. But suddenly you started to get used to his visits and he suddenly became part of your schedule, part of your day and the bakery’s as well. Him sitting near the window became a welcomed sight almost every morning. You’ve developed a habit, you perk up every time you hear the bell above the door ring in the early hours of the morning, thinking it’s him—hoping it’s him.

Which is ridiculous. You’ve only had a few conversations with this man. There is no way he feels even the slightest of the same about you or the bakery.

The warm scent of yeast and vanilla travels through the bakery, mixing with the soft jazz playing in the background. The atmosphere is welcoming, cozy—everything Jason needs after the high-pressure world of racing circuits and media obligations.

Jason doesn’t glance at the chalkboard menus scattered around the bakery walls, he already has every signature item memorized. Brown butter cinnamon rolls, flaky croissants, seasonal scones that change with your mood and the weather. Three months of visits will do that.

He feels his shoulders relax when he sees the empty bakery, almost as if he’s afraid of other visitors recognizing him. His eyes trail over the small storefront with its light wooden tables, then to the display counter with its warm golden lighting, before landing on you at the register. You’ve just emerged from the kitchen, flour dusting your apron, a slight smile playing at your lips.

His eyes widen as he makes eye contact with you, and he’s always this nervous when entering your bakery. He remembers the first day he came in like it was yesterday—nervous energy, trying to stay unrecognized, having an internal monologue about finding the perfect cinnamon roll and struggling to hold eye contact with the cute baker. He hopes you haven’t noticed how he stands out like a sore thumb among your usual clientele.

But you do notice. You notice everything.

A certain type of clientele visit your bakery—students cramming for exams, older folks meeting for their weekly coffee dates, families with children whose eyes light up at the sight of decorated cupcakes. Not professional race car drivers trying to hide behind baseball caps.

Of course, he isn’t aware that you know who he is. The formula racing circuit might be a world far from yours, but you’ve at least heard of Jason Todd. His reputation precedes him—aggressive driving style, consistent podium finishes, the kind of media scrutiny that would make anyone want to disappear into a quiet bakery at dawn.

You’re happy he decides to chose your quiet little bakery.

What surprises you isn’t that he’s famous, but that this particular racer has such a sweet tooth for your creations. His favorite, without question, are the cinnamon rolls—the way he savors each bite like it’s a small piece of heaven tells you everything you need to know about why he keeps coming back.

Jason approaches the counter with practiced casualness, though his heart rate picks up slightly. Three months, and he still feels like an imposter in this warm, flour-dusted world.

“Morning,” he says, voice carefully neutral. “Could I get two of the brown butter cinnamon rolls? And maybe...” His eyes drift to a new pastry he doesn’t recognize. “What’s that one?”

“Maple pecan danish,” you reply, and there’s something in your tone—not recognition exactly, but familiarity. You’ve grown to like seeing him. “Made them fresh this morning. Want to try one?”

He should say no. Stick to his usual order, pay, leave. But the way you’re looking at him, like you actually want his opinion.

“Sure. Yeah, I’ll take one.”

You watch him consider the danish, and there’s something almost vulnerable about the way he weighs the decision. Like choosing a new pastry is somehow risky. Most customers grab whatever looks good and move on, but he approaches your display cases like he’s studying art.

When you ring him up—$12.50—he hands you a twenty and shakes his head when you reach for change. Same as always. That’s nearly a 60% tip, and he does it every single time without fanfare, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your fingers brush together when during the money exchange. Jason feels sparks light up at the small touch. You raise a single brow, slightly taken back at the contact, but seeing the slight pink tinge dusting his cheeks, you can’t help but smile a little.

“Thanks.” He coughs, covering up his embarrassment, already backing toward his usual table by the window. The one where he thinks he’s hidden, where he can watch the street and eat in peace.

You don’t mention that you’ve started making extra cinnamon rolls on the days he usually comes. You don’t mention that you’ve been saving the last perfect pastry for him or that you’ve noticed him taking pictures of his food, quick and subtle, like he’s documenting something precious.

You definitely don’t mention that you know exactly who he is.

The day passes like any other. Customers trail in hour after hour, and the cozy, almost silent atmosphere of the early morning is replaced by soft conversations and peaceful laughter. Every customer finds their little corner in the bakery, settling in with coffee and pastries. You spend your day moving between the kitchen and register, working through the breakfast rush, lunch crowd, and afternoon treat seekers. The display cases shine under their warm lighting, showcasing seasonal specials and customer favorites. Between restocking croissants and ringing up orders, your mind drifts to Jason.

By the time you flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’ and lock the front door, the sun is already setting. The bakery feels different in the quiet—flour settled, ovens cooling, the lingering scent of vanilla and yeast your only companions. You finish cleaning the display cases and counting the register, muscle memory taking over as your thoughts drift back to your mysterious regular customer.

At home, you collapse onto your couch with a cup of tea, finally able to unwind. Almost automatically, you pull out your phone and open your bookmarks. The blog Sweet Velocity posted earlier today, and you’ve been looking forward to reading it since you saw the notification this morning.

NEW POST: “The Art of the Maple Pecan Danish.”

‘Tried something new today. Maple pecan danish from my usual spot—a risk that paid off in ways I didn’t expect. The pastry was ambitious: laminated dough folded with the patience of someone who understands that good things take time. The filling struck that perfect balance between sweet and complex. Sometimes stepping outside your comfort zone leads to the best discoveries. Sometimes taking chances on new things reminds you why you fell in love with the familiar ones in the first place.’

It’s obvious who is writing this blog. You’ve been keeping your eye on it for a while now. You’d actually call yourself a fan. This Sweet Velocity writer has captured your attention. Not only because of their charming commentary, but also because you know who they are. Jason always seemed too shy to even hold eye contact with you. And now in his blog, where he can escape the media’s scrutiny, he’s praising your bakery and calling you—the baker—cute.

If only he was aware of the fact you knew exactly who he was—a famous racer with a sweet tooth for your treats and an eye out for a cute baker like you.

The next morning, Jason arrives at 6:43 AM instead of his usual 6:41. Progress, you think, watching him approach the counter with marginally less tension in his shoulders.

“Morning,” he says, and this time he almost meets your eyes. “The usual?”

“Brown butter cinnamon roll?” You’re already reaching for the best one—the one you definitely didn’t set aside for him. “How was the danish yesterday?”

He pauses, clearly not expecting the question. “It was really good. The technique was impressive.”

“Technique?” You raise an eyebrow, genuinely curious. Most customers just say things taste good or bad.

“The lamination. The layers.” He catches himself getting technical and ducks his head. “I mean, it was flaky. Really flaky.”

There’s something endearing about watching him stumble over his words, like he’s not used to talking about food with someone who might actually understand.

You want to tease him a little. This plan of yours might be a little devious, but you can’t help it. The sight of someone like him turning into a blushing mess in your hands is a chance you cannot let go.

“‘The pastry was ambitious,’ in your opinion?” You quote back his own words from the blog, your eyes locking onto his face to see his reaction. The sight of it is rewarding.

Jason freezes completely. His eyes widen, they dart to you before looking panicked around the room, as if he’s looking for an escape. The pink tinge that coats his cheeks that you’re used to becomes even more prominent. Jason can feel how it reaches his ears too. Suddenly the bakery feels too hot for him. He tugs at his cap, trying to cover his embarrassed face before speaking up.

“How did you?—”

“The blog. I follow it. Love your review of those macarons from last week.”

You can imagine the gears turning in his head as he tries to piece together how you found out and how to respond like a puzzle.

“I can explain—”

“No need.” You chuckle lightly, feeling a little bad you’ve panicked him so much. You aren’t sure that dropping the fact that you know he’s also a racer will help this situation in any way. It might freak him out even more. And you’ve teased the poor man enough. “I just wanted to say thanks for all the kind words about this place. Even if you never mentioned it by name.”

Jason’s shoulders relax a bit. “You… you’re not mad?” Disbelief and relief coat his tone at the same time.

“Mad? You’ve been giving me a masterclass in writing with your blog basically. Not to mention the feedback is really helpful for me to improve my baking in anyway. I’m flattered.”

He seems to calm down a bit from the scare you gave him. He even leans in closer to the register. You noticed how big he was the first time you saw him, but now that he is so close, you can see the size difference between the two of you. You’re not small yourself, you’d say you have an average build. But nothing is average about him.

You can feel your heart skip a beat at the close proximity. You’re not sure if he feels the same.

Suddenly Jason tilts his head, trying to get a closer look at you. As if he’s trying to memorize your face. You’re sure you’re blushing now. You only now remember how he had called you cute in his blog. The tables are turned on you in a matter of seconds. Now you’re the one who’s flustered.

Jason seems to be enjoying the sight in front of him. The corners of his lips curl and he speaks up. “Okay, but seriously, how did you know?”

It takes you a second to clear your mind and focus. “You described my cinnamon rolls as having ‘the perfect balance of comfort and complexity, like a well-tuned engine.” You try and hold eye contact with him, but his eyes seem too intense, even though he couldn’t even look at you the last day. “Plus, you’re the only person who eats them with that level of admiration and you photograph them.”

“I photograph them?” He asks, and now it’s your turn to be surprised by his statement.

“You think I don’t notice you taking pictures? You’re sneaky, but not that sneaky.”

“So you’ve been watching me, huh?”

Your heart skips a beat. You look at him dumbfounded. How did you end up in this situation? Suddenly you’re the one a flustered mess. Yes, you’ve been watching him. But he asks with an air of confidence you didn’t expect from a quiet guy like him. You feel the need to fluster him back.

“While we are on the subject of watching each other, why don’t you call me cute to my face since you’re so comfortable typing it out on your blog?”

Jason’s eyes sparkle slightly with a glint you haven’t seen before. He smiles nervously, fidgeting around the register to gather his confidence again.

“What?” You challenge him. “Too shy?”

He scoffs with a light laugh following it. “No. But I’m sure you’d like to see me shy.”

God curse him and his boyish charm. You do want to see him shy. It’s the whole reason you quoted one of the lines from his blog right in his face. Which had worked to get you to your goal, but only for a few moments before Jason fired back.

“Maybe I do.” You admit with a cocky smile which seems to startle him. “Who wouldn't want to see a renowned racer praise their treats?”

The admission that you know who he is hangs in the air. You almost think you crossed a line. Maybe you came off too strong. But to your surprise Jason smiles. A truly genuine smile paints his lips and you’re sure that sight is sweeter than any pastry in this whole bakery.

“The bakery treats or you?”

You feel like you’ve been turned a mess in his hands. There’s a fluttering feeling in your stomach that is suspiciously similar to butterflies. You know you’re blushing because Jason can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. Or maybe that’s because he just likes looking at you. He did say you were cute.

“Smooth.” You chuckle to hide your embarrassment. “Very smooth. You aren’t so bad yourself.” You say, words a little too quiet.

Jason shuffles near the register, slowly inching closer. He’s like an eager puppy, waiting for your compliments and treats. He doesn’t want fo come off as too eager, but he can’t help but feel a strange pull to this bakery and you as well.

“What? I didn’t hear you.” He says in faux confusion, as if he didn’t actually hear what you said perfectly. Your raised brow only spurs him on.

“Are you serious?” You deadpan, but the smile doesn’t leave your lips. “One might say you’re desperate for compliments.”

“Oh, so you did compliment me, huh?” He quips, voice tinged with satisfaction at his small victory.

“You better return that compliment.”

“Want me to say you’re cute again?” He asks, the satisfaction in his voice turns into shaky nervousness, as if he’s testing the waters.

“Yes.” You reply quickly and you can see the small spark of surprise in his eyes.

Jason’s confidence wavers for just a moment at your direct response, that familiar pink creeping back across his cheekbones. But he doesn't look away this time.

“You’re cute,” he says, voice softer now, more genuine than teasing. “Really cute. And talented. And...” He trails off, seeming to realize he’s about to ramble.

“And?” you prompt, leaning slightly closer across the counter.

“And I’ve been coming here for three months trying to work up the courage to have an actual conversation with you instead of just writing about you in my blog like some kind of stalker.”

The admission hangs between you. You can see the exact moment he second-guesses himself, his hand moving toward his cap again.

“Well.” You say, reaching across to still his hand before he can pull the brim lower. “Good thing I read your blog, then. Saved us both some time.”

His hand is warm under yours, calloused in ways that speak of more than just steering wheels—maybe he works on his own cars, or has hobbies beyond racing. You find yourself curious about all the details his blog doesn’t cover.

“So what happens now?” he asks, not moving his hand away. “Do I keep pretending to be incognito, or do you start charging me extra for being famous?”

“Depends. Are you going to keep writing about my ‘ambitious pastries’ and ‘cute baker,’ or are you going to start asking said cute baker out for coffee sometime when they’re not covered in flour?”

The question surprises you as much as it does him—you hadn’t planned to be so forward. But three months of watching him eat alone by the window, three months of reading his thoughtful reviews, three months of carefully saving him the best cinnamon roll each morning—maybe it’s time to stop dancing around whatever this is.

Jason’s smile is answer enough before he even speaks. “What time do you close?”

𝄢　© petalbcrnes 𓈒　𓋫　’𝟮𝟱𓈒　ᛝ

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