janluxe

[janluxe]

HOUSECAT — CALEB/XIA YIZHOU

–summary; social anxiety!caleb, that's it

–contents; pure fluff

–w/c; 380

so what if Caleb wasn't always this extroverted. maybe he had always resembled a cheetah in many ways; shy and harmless despite the scary appearance.

perhaps, he'd stay close to people he knew in big crowds or even cling to them at a very early age.

different parents loved him the second they met him "he's so timid and calm." they always claimed and he hated that about himself.

until he met you. from that point on, he started to, slowly but surely, open up a bit more until he got where he is today.

you always took notice of his attempts to wash the nervousness down, his hands always finding something to fidget with.

maybe he had changed since then. Especially after going to college, he surely has become a different person – one who found social interactions easy. Well, no.

caleb remained glued to your side in public space, unsure how to react in given social interactions despite how fearless he wanted to appear in your eyes. sure, he couldn't stop talking about his interests to you or the closest of friends. it was adorable, really.

his hand always ended up on his chest or his neck, rubbing the skin ever so gently, to remind himself that everything was under control.

a fearsome colonel of the fleet found himself unable to handle social situations without having second thoughts.

yet here he stayed; remaining completely still, eyes closed as your hands massaged the sore muscles of his neck and shoulders – it was a common issue.

"i did well, didn't i?" caleb murmured against the fabric of your shirt, arms enveloping you as you stood between his legs before he looked up into your eyes. just like a small child, seeking reassurance from someone important.

and honestly? he hadn't experienced a panic attack the past few months. after he reunited with you. so for that, he deserved a golden star, to say the least. "you're doing better than anyone would've."

he looked so pretty like this, face practically glowing from just a simple praise. caleb had always been easy to please and so eager to please at the same time.

"i'm proud of you." you added with a hint of admiration rushing through you, and he was content in your arms.

–a/n; do we get the idea chat? tysm for reading, have a nice day/night ♡

[janluxe]

God forbid a girl prefers fictional men

[janluxe]

I'LL COMFORT YOU — CALEB/XIA YIZHOU

–content; pure fluff and period comfort

–summary; he's there for you even during the hardest moments of your life (i needed the comfort)

–w/c; 503

"Does it hurt?" Caleb walked back into the living room, balancing two places on his arm before setting them on the table in front of you. "I've brought you some ibuprofen." He mumbled as softly as he could.

You had been curled up on the couch of his apartment for what felt like hours. Fatigue consuming both your mind and body; eyes fluttering closed and your mind losing focus, the pain in your abdomen being the only thing that kept you up.

A weak hum was the only sound you could let out, and that was enough for him to understand the situation.

"I'm dizzy," you admitted, cringing the moment you heard the sound of your voice but even more from the fact that you felt weak, despite your best efforts at gaslighting yourself.

He was well aware. Caleb had always been the kind of man who pays enough attention to notice every toss and turn in the middle of the night, every miscalculated step. "I know, my love." He murmured in the softest tone he possibly could as his hand carefully pulled the blanket over your back.

If he wanted anything right now, it'd be for you to find some peace in your own body so you could catch on some sleep.

"I'll bring your heating pad." A gentle kiss on your temple before he left you alone for a bit.

You frowned, staring at the food set on the table. He had prepared two of your favorites, a main course and a dessert –trying to keep both light and exclude any unnecessary dairy products to help out with the nausea, he had read– and it smelled amazing. That's where the issue was. While everything looked appetizing, you felt your stomach turning and making your day even more difficult than it already was.

So you reached for the medicine, washing it down with water as quickly as you could to avoid the bitter aftertaste it left in your mouth. You sat up properly as soon as you felt a shiver run down your spine, becoming hyperaware of how the blanket felt on your body and how the pill slid down your throat.

"Everything's gonna be okay." His words can't do a lot, but having him by your side is comforting enough than doing this alone. "Just hang on for twenty minutes or so." His touches were so gentle that you barely felt him placing the heating pad on your aching abdomen, allowing you to adjust it freely to your liking.

The comforting sensation of warmth always helped get you back on your feet. Plus, you had Caleb by your side to rub your back or feed you as slowly as you needed instead of letting you eat on your own.

"Take it easy," All that was left now was exhaustion and a softly-hummed lullaby in the room in an attempt to soothe you to sleep. Which worked while you nestled in his embrace, "I've got you, pipsqueak... there's no reason to stress."

–a/n; it feels like hell. cancel shark week. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day/night ♡

[janluxe]

i am nooooot locked the fuck in. im locked the fuck out. call the locksmith

[janluxe]

PERMANENT MARK — CALEB/XIA YIZHOU

–contents; fluff, slight NSFW content

–w/c; roughly 1.9k

What if, and hear me out on this, Caleb got a tattoo.

He was so proud of himself that day, returning home to share the excitement with his favorite person of them all. His smile did not falter one bit as he announced that not only did he get a tattoo, but he got two at once.

"So, where are they?" You asked, full of curiosity and eyes scanning his frame involuntarily in a fruitless attempt to find them on him. The air remained thick between you, the rising temperature weighing you down a tad more than the tension ever could.

Summer was right around the corner, after all.

Your question lingered, Caleb only responding with a subtle smirk before he smoothly changed the subject when he heard your stomach rumble, "What do you want for dinner, pipsqueak?" His hands made quick work of turning on the stove and preparing the needed utensils.

It's hard to keep track of time on sunny days, especially when you're around people you enjoy having by your side. However, the dark clouds forming in the sky reminded you that it was still spring, and of course, it would start pouring while you were out with Caleb.

He had suggested bringing an umbrella on your trip to the grocery store, and maybe the rain wouldn't be an issue if you hadn't stubbornly turned his offer down. Now you were rushing back home, Caleb's jacket over your head, trying to keep you from catching a cold.

At least it was fun - running back home like you were little kids once more, not phased by the world's ideals. Judging by the look on his face alongside the warmth of his laughter echoing in your ears, Caleb got to relive the same memory as you. The fleeting feeling of freedom.

Despite the circumstances, he looked relieved to be in there with you, even if he was facing the consequences of your decisions - like being soaking wet, dark hair sticking to his skin the same way his clothes were. "Told you s–" He opened his mouth to comment arrogantly before you threw your hand over his lips.

"When will you learn how to shut up?" Your words had barely registered in his mind when his smirk settled on his face. You could feel his lips curl under the palm of your hand. It was painfully obvious in the way his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly, dark and long eyelashes fluttering sarcastically. The subtle furrow in his brows made him appear even more amused and pleased with your attention. Had his attitude always been this loud, even when he remained completely silent?

And he never properly replied to your ironic comment. Only a scoff escaped him as soon as you slipped your hand off of his face. "You wouldn't love me if I did, pipsqueak." Caleb didn't waste a second, almost immediately shaking the droplets of water off his hair and pulling his shirt off over his head right after.

Oh. God. His. Back.

You had memorized every part of his body, studied it thoroughly from afar, as if he were a piece of art you could never quite touch. Ever since he had gone off to college, he hadn't stopped growing –broadening, getting taller– and you weren't there to witness it. One day, he was at eye level with you, familiar and boyish, and the next, he stood proudly, double your size and towering over your frame without meaning to.

There, you spotted the first tattoo not too long after, positioned right between his broad shoulders, your initials in bold, cursive italics. Oh. He made his way upstairs, not letting you stare at it any longer.

"You should also change, pipsqueak." His voice echoed in the staircase, and you blinked. What was that?

Great. Now you were having thoughts. Thoughts you were supposed to have for any man but Caleb.

"Hey – wait!" You called out, and the moment you started going up the stairs and trying to catch up to him, Caleb quickened his pace. "You never told me where your tattoos are." A heavy huff escaped your lips, leaning against the doorframe.

His room felt warm compared to the rest of the house, a hint of his characteristic smell filling the room – one of fresh-cut apples, musk, and a fine touch of engine oil.

"Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?" He referenced proudly, while droplets of rain hit the glass of the window behind him and raced each other down. Caleb was obviously oblivious to the thunder lighting up the dark sky, slipping into the sweatshirt you had once bought him.

He still remembers the amount of importance it held, especially when he tried to survive the challenge of the academy. Or the nights he felt alone and surrounded by melancholy.

A complex personality with many 'sandpapered' sharp edges and delicate fine points all hidden well under a pretty face.

"You still haven't changed," Caleb commented, moving efficiently as he gently dried your hair with his towel. "And you're soaking wet, too." Does he really have to phrase it like that?

Your eyes caught a glimpse of a fresh set of pajamas for you, the look on your face fainting from surprise to confusion. "What–" you began, only to be cut off.

"I told you it was about to rain." He stated with a shrug of his shoulders, his fingers working to put your hair in a loose braid. He had always loved experimenting with different hairstyles on you, plus he was always a natural at it.

A large hand patted your back before he started exiting the room. "I'll cook up a new recipe for you."

It is so simple, yet not everyone can do it. But it was Caleb's way to show affection, and he never thought of it as embarrassing or ever hesitated to treat you like you deserved.

Your plate awaited you on the dining table, steaming hot and neat. A sticky note on the side 'Eat well, honey :)' – even while he is right across you, resting on the couch in comfortable clothes, a movie keeping him entertained, and filling the silence.

Silence wasn't something he wanted to grow accustomed to. He had endured it all his life, and learning how to like it wasn't part of his plans. He had grown up by your side, and that made his childhood anything but quiet.

"Hm?" He hummed, a small smile creeping upon his face when he felt the cushion of the couch next to him sink under your weight, "What, the chair's not comfortable enough for you, pips?"

"No," you replied, tone laced with sarcasm, "I just missed your amazing company," Caleb smirked, matching your energy effortlessly.

The way you matched his energy was something he never took for granted, "Just don't stain the couch, mkay?" Caleb murmured, gently adjusting your hair so you could eat comfortably.

He had chosen a documentary. About planets, of course. Eight planets in our solar system, around a trillion in the Milky Way, and approximately a septillion of them in the whole universe – and he had chosen Saturn.

And Caleb isn't the quiet type when it comes to his interests, always finding out new things to hyperfixate on. But what he loved more was when you talked about yours, with his attention focused solely on you.

"Well done. I'm so proud of you, honey." His hand found its way atop your head, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Your ever-so-slight frown was his cue to leave. He stood up, stretching his arms above his head – the sweater you had gifted him riding up his stomach, and even under the dim lighting of the TV, you noticed it; a tattoo on his hip bone. And as if the placement wasn't enough for you to get you worked up, it was a Shakespeare quote – "Hell is empty and all the devils are here." The Aaron Warner tattoo.

You almost choked on your own spit while he remained unfazed, picking up your plate.

"Caleb." You coughed, taking the plate from his hand and setting it back on the table before tugging him next to you. "What kind of tattoo did you even get?"

"What?" He tilted his head in response, looking like a lost puppy out in the rain – it made your heart clench. "This?" How innocent of him to offer you another look.

A scoff escaped you accidentally, "Are you sure this isn't one of your stupid pranks?" You questioned, hand reaching out and brushing his skin in an attempt to brush off any temporary ink.

He had always been a sucker for pranks, so who could guarantee you that these were anything more than one of his shenanigans?

Needless to say, the tattoo proved legit, and your sudden action only served to make him as flustered as you.

Caleb let out a faint sound, his breath caught up on his throat – a weak sound for a Colonel. His hand swiping up yours and intertwining them. "Personal space is overrated anyway." He teased, shoulders still a bit tense.

"It's not part of a prank?" Maybe repeating yourself might have helped getting used to the facts that lay before your eyes.

"No—" his mouth opening yet closing once more as soon as you cut him off with another question, "Then why did you get my initials tattooed on your back?"

It was an adorable sight, watching him blink a few times in a poor attempt of registering your words in a mind that remained empty from the moment you touched him.

"Tattoos are supposed to be meaningful, and I don't think I'll ever belong to anyone other than you." The cushion shifted under your shared weight "And it's a nice side piece to decorate your scratch marks." He added with a breathless whisper against the shell of your ear, his body hovering dangerously close to yours.

You had known him all your life, had learned to see him as the most patient person you've ever met. But he was done playing pretend. And Caleb surely didn't even think about acting as a 'gege', not when the leaking tip of his cock kissed your entrance so sweetly it felt familiar, asking for permission after he had your consent.

The sound of the TV long gone, the sound of skin slapping against skin filled your ears alongside the sounds he let out. His movements were gentle, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to silence himself before he grew bolder the moment you asked for more. Now, he was the loudest he has ever been in his entire life.

Your eyes remained glued to the tattoo on his hip, it gave him some more charm. It suited him all too well, and it looked even better against your thigh in the soft lighting of the room.

"I'm all yours, baby." He murmured as a weak reassurance, fingers teasing your clit and a flushed face buried in your chest – his dark hair sticking to the thin glistening layer of sweat and his saliva covering your skin. "Pipsqueak, please–" a whine full of desperation, lost in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

And he was right. Your nails dug into the soft muscles of his back, a way to keep yourself grounded. Of course you wouldn't admit that, but he'd know as soon as the red marks on his back started aching.

a/n; this was supposed to be short, I swear. Thank you for reading and apologies for any mistakes ♡ –Jan

[janluxe]

DEEP WATER — CALEB/XIA YIZHOU

summary; a small fault in his plans, maybe he wasn't designed for boats

w/c; 520

a/n; Caleb's card cause he came home :D but with a small plot twist I wanted to try out,, thank you for reading ♡

"If you want it to be gentle or rough... The choice is yours." He mumbled, toying around with the flower in his hand and moving the boat accordingly. "Give it a shot?" its pinkish petals tickling your face as he offered it to you.

If Caleb could take away all of your worries and endure them for you, he would. But that wasn't physically possible, so he chose the next best thing; bringing you to a place where you hid away from the rest of the world.

Despite his letters still lingering in your mind, you tried your best to enjoy the present moment with him.

This place was honestly beautiful. Clean waters in the color of turquoise under the boat you were sitting in while flowers and waterlilies passed by. And the willow trees around you worked like a barrier between you and reality, as if this fairly small river was a portal of some sorts.

He wanted the best for you, after all.

But Caleb, being the sneaky jerk that he is, he pulled away the moment your fingers had the slight chance of taking it. In one swift, harsh move of the boat, you had fallen into his arms – all according to his plan.

"Using your evol is cheating, you sly dog!" You shouted, landing a few playful punches – which he replied to with genuine laughter. A rare melody, precious nonetheless.

If only heaven felt like this moment, his scent mixed with one of the flowers carried by a gentle breeze of the wind.

The shift in his expression was so subtle, yet so easy for you to notice. "Woof." He sounded so stupid and adorable at the same time – it made you want to give in to your impulsive thoughts.

Before you had the chance to shower –or rather attack– him in affection, you readjusting on his lap in combination with him turning on his side caused the boat to tip over. Neither of you had the privilege of time to react.

You instinctively clenched your eyes shut, feeling the coolness of the river surrounding you along with the same soft breeze you felt so refreshed by just a few moments ago.

"You look amazing." Caleb murmured teasingly. His hand slipped around your waist to keep you afloat. Even amongst the chaos, beauty and joy don't cease to exist.

You felt the pad of his finger tap the tip of your nose right after he placed a flower in your hair – still using his evol, despite everything that had happened on top of your earlier remarks.

"Just lovely." A faint scoff escaped you, splashing water right in his face and watching the way his hair stuck to his forehead just like his shirt did to his chest, only for him to shake the droplets off a moment later.

And there was his bright smile once again. It always had been a sight for sore eyes. "Just admit that you're having fun, pipsqueak." Caleb's violet eyes focused on you, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss on your temple. "I promise to keep your pretty little secret."

[janluxe]

HOLD ME — CALEB / XIA YIZHOU

–summary; books are nice, but cradling him after a long day at work is even better.

–contents; fluff

–w/c; 404

–a/n; I need to hold him. I'm totally normal about him. Thank you for reading, have a nice day <3

"I won't bother you too much, pipsqueak." Caleb's usual teasing attitude was nowhere to be found, slowly slipping into bed and hiding under the covers.

He had taken notice of you reading one of the books you were so excited about. Are you even surprised he remembered your favorite titles? Your reactions over the smallest things and the microexpressions on your features never went unappreciated by his gaze.

Hm? A confused hum escaped your throat as your focus shifted from the beautiful scenarios forming with each word you read, to his cheek pressed against the surface of your stomach.

There was something oddly comforting about breathing in his perfume, the way it filled the room – perhaps you could take it as a small reminder, that you'll never have to be alone, not while he was around. And he wasn't planning to go anywhere without you.

Caleb didn't even flinch when you lifted the blanket to look at him. A small smile escaped you the moment he readjusted himself, tilting his head so his chin was now poking your flesh. His eyes wide, yet tired – they were darker than usual.

Your hand buried in his messy hair, and he didn't hesitate to lean closer. Work was taking a toll on him, and he could no longer hide it.

"Come up here." You invited, patting the space on your chest for his head to rest – quickly setting the book in your hands aside when he shuffled closer to you, following your command word for word as per usual.

A content sigh escaped him, the sound sharp in contrast with the comfortable silence enveloping the room. "So, how do you like your book?" His voice was barely a whisper, but the way your day went mattered more to him than the fatigue weighing down his body.

You could feel each breath he took – it wasn't often that they were rarely this calm. His hands wrapped around your frame, like a small child seeking the kind of tenderness it didn't have the privilege of growing up with. Long eyelashes met his skin as his eyes fluttered closed – the soft rustling of the sheets, your scent and voice lulled him to sleep.

"I'll tell you all about it later, sleep now." A reassuring phrase Caleb didn't know he needed until he let out a small groan in response before he allowed himself to sink the warmth of your embrace.

[janluxe]

DECODE — CALEB / XIA YIZHOU

–summary; one of his daily attempts to teach you Morse code.

–contents; smut with no plot.

–wc; 536

–a/n; just an idea I wanted to entertain (:

Caleb knows Morse code.

It's no secret, considering his position in the military. But he was fascinated by this way of communication even before he got in the academy, and he even tried getting you into it as well.

Needless to say, his attempts weren't exactly fruitful.

You only bothered to learn one sentence that he had taught you, 'Caleb, is a stupid, big dummy' tapping the tip of his finger against your hand and watching you expectantly. His face brightened the moment you returned the gesture, a hint of a pink hue creeping on his face and ears.

.. / .-.. .. -.- . / -.-. .- .-.. . -... / - .... . / -- --- ... -

Which literally translated to; 'I like Caleb the most.' But you didn't need to know that.

Perhaps this time around, you'd actually appreciate the lesson. He slowly halted, still buried to the hilt inside your seeping cunt and giving you the chance to focus on his fingers. "Come on, baby, I taught you better than this." Caleb cooed, lips slowly grazing the back of your neck while his heart fluttered against the exposed surface of your back.

Your dear gege had always been unpredictable, even in the most inconvenient situations.

He was softly tapping away on the sensitive skin of your lower abdomen, the gesture seemed innocent – trying to remind you how to decipher Morse code as if his tip wasn't kissing the same cervix he bruised a few moments ago.

Your brain worked overtime, barely holding onto your sanity by a thread threatening to snap. hold, tap, hold, and he went on until you had something to work with.

-.-- --- ..- .----. .-. . / -- .. -. .

"You're not even trying, pipsqueak." His whisper was the only thing breaking the silence. Your mouth opened and then closed again, only a few shaky breaths and incoherent gibberish left your throat.

His fingers tracing small circles on the surface of your skin distracted you even more, yet you knew he was expecting an answer.

Your body fitted perfectly against his. Two halves of the same whole. His muscular yet lean figure complimented yours as he trapped you under him.

Sweat dripped down your frame while you struggled, "I don't like this game." You shifted closer to him, seeking the friction he denied you.

"Hey, hey." You could tell he was caught off guard when he twitched ever-so-slightly inside you, "How about this, if you can decode the first three letters then I'll give you what you want."

"Sounds like a deal, pips?" He hummed, feeling the subtle vibration send a shiver down your spine. He was holding back as much as you were, he was just better at hiding it.

A weary sigh escaped your parted lips before you could even process it – mind and body too fogged up with need to act properly, "Y-O-U" you spelt out, not hesitating one bit. Maybe what you had picked up from him didn't go to waste entirely.

A rush of pride washed over him, and you were there to witness his expression shifting. "Atta girl," He coaxed playfully, his usual smug glint returning on his face as he set a comfortable pace. "You're getting there, Honey. You just need more practice."

A promise and a threat. At least now you knew what he had in store for you.

[janluxe]

GENUINE CARE – CALEB / XIA YIZHOU

–summary; just because we grow up, it doesn't mean we change for the worst, right? –contents; smut, fluff, and maybe a sprinkle of angst.

–word count; 3.1k –a/n; writing scenes like this is so interesting yet so awkward at the same time I can't,, have a nice day/night, and thank you for reading <3 (also Caleb's myth>>)

You held a special place in his heart ever since he had first seen you.

Caleb had always been so fond of you. It was sickening for everyone else who had to tolerate being around.

His mind is still haunted by your laughter and the joy that overfilled you back when you were carefree and small, still jumping in puddles of water made on the side of the road.

And much like a gardener who takes care of his precious flowers, Caleb was always on the look out when it came to you – from starting fights with your bullies to being there whenever you needed someone to listen to you talk about your issues.

He would wait a lifetime if it meant he got to spend it by your side, being the reason for that bright smile of yours. He would carry your burdens for you without a second thought if only you allowed him to.

His mind had always been a museum of you and the moments you had gifted him with.

Caleb, despite everything he has been put through, still holds onto the memories he has made with you as a kid, recalling every single detail related to you.

He remembers how your hands quivered before a play date you had arranged with a classmate of yours back in the old days. Of course, he hasn't changed all that much – even back then, he despised the idea of you spending time with someone who wasn't him, but the hint of excitement hiding amongst the cracks of your voice made him soften to the thought.

Caleb carefully fixed your hair, small and childish hands running through each strand and pulling your bangs out of your face with a red apple themed hairclip he had bought for you on his way home from school. He loved you too much to let you struggle on your own. Your gaze followed his slightly taller frame in the mirror as he swiftly moved behind you to zip up your dress and then proceeded to fix any imperfections of the fabric right after.

He took a small step away from you, staring at you with a proud smile on his boyish features. "You look... pretty." The compliment echoed in your mind as you stared at your reflection, completely taken aback by his work.

"You're beautiful." Caleb muttered against the bare skin of your shoulder. His teeth grazing against the soft flesh and his tongue running over to soothe the redness he had created. His hand rested on your waist, enjoying the closure for a minute more before he started to unzip your dress.

The badges on his chest weighed heavy, the cold metal coming in contrast with the warmth of your back. The Colonel's uniform on him was a strange sight as someone who had been with him through the good and the bad ever since he was a child. The softness of your dress' straps got replaced with the smooth feeling of his leather gloves, causing your shoulders to tense at the change of sensation on your skin.

"You seem a bit tense, pipsqueak." He stated, letting your dress fall and pool at your feet as he placed his arm behind your knees. His grip on you was firm, yet gentle when he lifted you up. The mattress dipped under your shared weight, while Caleb's eyes were stuck, admiring the golden hue on your features.

The sun had begun to set in Skyhaven, changing the colors of the sky into a fun mix. They were right. They were right about how pretty the sunset is in this city, yet Caleb wasn't interested in watching another nightfall, not when his whole world was in his arms.

"Easy now..." He mumbled, bringing your frame even closer to his own, fingers pressing into the taut muscles of your shoulders in an attempt to massage out the tension with precise movements. "Tell me what's bothering that little noggin of yours."

"You've changed." You hesitated but didn't fail to notice a small smirk forming on his face as his hands slid further down your back, following the outline of your spine.

A faint scoff escaped him as he leaned closer to you, wanting to close the space between you, but he held onto his sanity for now. "How come?" A quick and simple question that did an incredible job at throwing you off.

"Well... you're not the same boy that used to walk me to class, help me wash my hair..." Your voice was like a well-sung poem caressing his ears even while you kept listing off reasons he seemed different than he was before.

Caleb held eye contact with you. It didn't feel strange to either of you, not after so many challenges and games of 'whoever-looks-away-first-washes-the-dishes-for-a-week' during your time together.

"You're not exactly the same either, now, are you?" The steadiness in his voice always had a soothing effect on you, but his words didn't exactly calm you down completely. You were about to throw a protest at him before the feeling of his hat on your head messed up your thought process. "We're all grown up now, pipsqueak."

"That doesn't mean we've changed for the worst." He murmured against the shell of your ear, his voice lowered to nothing more than a whisper. Fine dark hair tickled your cheek as his lips traveled down to your jawline, leaving pecks on every part of skin they could reach. "Give me a chance to show you." The desperation dripping off his tone went straight to your core –large hands unclasping and sliding off your bra.

Your mind remained occupied with his tender touches along your back and his kisses on the column of your throat, creating a way to escape reality if you decided to just shut your eyes.

Caleb always had the tendency to put you before himself. Even while the other boys of your age grew selfish, he despised the idea of neglecting your needs for the sake of his own

His hand moving to rest on your waist brought you back into the present. The small, surpised noises that escaped your throat encouraged him to trail his lips further down, finding the nubs of your chest and circling one with his tongue and finally popping it into his mouth He tried his best to make it feel good for you – Caleb wasn't just willing to, no, he was determined to please you.

Part of you believed this was the wrong thing to do after being brought up in the same household and playing the roles of siblings. But the rules that society placed upon you didn't linger in your mind a moment longer when you noticed the look he was giving you, violet eyes full of stars stolen from the night sky and saved just for you.

"I'll make this work, pipsqueak." Caleb's words landed your skin, soothing the path of goosebumps he had left on it. "Be a good girl, and I promise I will." He had always been good at keeping his promises, no backing out – and, in fact, already sliding off the only remaining clothing on you.

Your shivers and the way your skin soaked in the golden light that sneaked through the blinders urged him to keep going, to leave patience and taking it slow for another day – his grip on the plush flesh of your thighs was the only thing keeping his emotions in check, reminding him that he should take things slow. After all, your satisfaction meant more to him than his own pleasure ever would.

If he could keep you right here just like this forever, he wouldn't hesitate.

The badges on his chest clinked under your hand the moment you decided to push him back into the mattress.

Beneath all those layers of responsibility lay a faint, but not unfamiliar, heartbeat, one that always grew louder and quicker with the right touch.

Whenever he refused to open up about his emotions because he believed he shouldn't burden you with his troubles, his body betrayed him despite his best efforts. You could tell how much he needed you. The way his slender fingers clenched onto the sheets like they were a lifeline, the soft pink hue creeping onto his face and the very obvious bobbing of the Adam's apple in his throat was telling you everything you wanted to know.

Despite the position he was in, the usual softness in his expression lingered and yet, it perfectly harmonized with the hint of a frown creasing his brow and the ever-so-slight quiver of his lip which gave away his underlying complaint.

Beneath all those layers was a boy who did everything in his power to keep you happy when no one else bothered. A boy who made sure to protect not only you but also your memories from anyone who dared disturb you.

Heat started pooling in your abdomen. You were no stranger to the feeling, especially when he was the cause. Thoughts of the first time you felt it rushed to you, it happened while playfighting with him and getting pinned down out of the blue; he allowed a small hint of frustration to seep through his usual facade before he played it off like he always used to do. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles flexing against the thin fabric of the shirt he was wearing. His touch remained gentle but didn't falter even for a second.

You couldn't help but zone out, noticing how underneath all those layers, he was still the same man.

A small, choked noise escaped him the moment he felt your hand unintentionally trailed lower. "Fuck." Caleb slowly losing his cool over something so small was a sight you could get used to.

"You can't be serious." Your teasing comment and the cocky smirk you wore had him teetering right on the edge of falling apart before your very eyes.

The sight? Pathetically adorable and judging by how red he had gotten all over, it was bound to get much worse.

"Please." Caleb knew how embarrassing it was to be in a position like this, unable to touch you even after waiting for you all these years. But to put it quite frankly, he couldn't care less about his dignity at the moment. "Can I touch–" his words caught in his throat, or crashed into your thumb when you slipped it past his lips to shut him up.

You couldn't resist teasing him, running your hand all over his uniform, and feeling him twitch under your touch. There were small details on his attire that piqued your curiosity, playing around with them while he observed you. "You're still in uniform. That's not very fair, is it?" You cooed, grounding yourself against the rough fabric of his uniform. He was a sight for sore eyes; propped up on his elbows, trying to communicate with muffled sentences and loud whines.

Caleb's cries filled up the quiet room before you removed your finger from his mouth with a wet pop, and he was already struggling to catch his breath. "Good. It feels good..." his chest rose and fell rapidly under your hand, hips bucking involuntarily as he felt his mind slip. Sadly, this wasn't enough, and you were both aware of that fact.

He was in awe of the way you handled him effortlessly, already drowning in the sensations you were –oh so generously– offering him. His eyelashes met the freckled skin of his cheeks each time you toyed with his belt.

Caleb was never one for formal wear, so the first time you saw him in his academy outfit, some feelings stirred. And now his Colonel uniform had you going feral.

"My love, I can't–" The words rolled off his tongue easily, yet trailed off into a gasp the moment he felt his tip nudging the entrance of your glistening folds.

'My love'? Not 'pipsqueak'?

"I can stop." A mere comment had him biting down on his lip, hand reaching out to hold you in place before you even had the chance to move away and accidentally pulling you even closer which caused the both of you to groan.

"Do anything you want, just don't stop." Caleb managed to mutter, feeling too overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the feeling of you enveloping him – the scent of your body lotion overcoming his senses. "I'm begging you."

Violet, glassy eyes staring up at you through long eyelashes, hoping you'd give him at least something.

You could stay right where you were for the rest of eternity, leaving him exposed the same way he had done – the evidence of which was your clothing, still scattered in the bedroom. But, you knew you wouldn't do that.

The Farspace fleet Colonel deduced to the mess writhing underneath you while you took the opportunity to get used to the feeling of him pushing apart the velvet surface of your walls the more you sunk down on him.

You shut your eyes, trying your best to adjust to the sensation; sure, it was pleasurable to an extent, but it contained a painful undertone that couldn't be ignored.

Noticing how your nose scrunched up, a hint of discomfort coloring your features, Caleb immediately moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered on the back of your neck as he reassured you, "It's okay." Voice soothing and sweet like honey on an open wound, "I've got you, pretty girl."

All of his attention was on you. It never left you, in fact. "You're doing an awesome job. Look at you." He cooed, allowing his eyes to flutter closed right after he pressed his forehead against yours. The rhythm he had set was slow and shallow, making sure your first time with him wouldn't leave a bitter aftertaste in the future.

"I'm fine." Your words seemed to calm him down. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of pride when you finally managed to gather up the strength to fully settle on him, and the awful smile he had on proved that even more.

"I know you are." Caleb coaxed, talking to you with the same amount of admiration in his voice even when he was just a young boy. "You're taking me so well." was a sentence you never expected to hear from his mouth.

You couldn't help but pause, a faint chuckle escaping you before a comment about his way of praise left your lips automatically, "Can't you express yourself better than that?"

One moment, you feel overwhelmed by the newly found sensation, and the next you feel homey enough to laugh with his maybe-not-so elegant remarks. "Noo, I can't." He protested playfully, thumb brushing and gently squishing the flesh of your inner thigh. "Not when you're this cruel."

"You're acting like you hate it." Your voice was filled with complaint, causing his features to soften up like they always used to do back then; when you explained to him how your day at school went like shit because of a bad grade, or how one of your friends was talking behind your back and especially when you couldn't spend time stuck to his side because he had to focus on his studies.

A hearty laugh eacaped his throat, acknowledging your effort to make him feel guilty, "No, I love it, honey." Caleb bounced back with no issue, having grown accustomed to your acts. And yet, a part of him struggled to remained composed while your small frame grinded down on his significantly bigger one, seeking out friction.

"You, on the other hand, are awfully impatient." Caleb's usual teasing attitude seeped through the muffled noises that escaped him each time you moved around. "Still the same, hm?" He hummed, trying to prove a point even while his voice was barely stable, and his mind was already traveling places. "Maybe I should bring your favorite treats next time. To make this more engaging cause you seem a bit lost." His thumb lightly pressed on your clit caught you off guard, and your reaction was written all over your face. It was clear how proud he was with his comment while you struggled to keep a straight face.

The pad of his finger gently traced the outline of your nub, testing the waters and coaxing it to harden under his touch before he applied more pressure. Your thought process melted as you slowed down your movements and eventually let them halt completely. "Oh no, don't stop now. You promised." The unnatural low pitch of his voice and his breath on your face snapped you back into reality, not allowing you to take without giving.

You could feel his hipbones grazing against the skin of your thighs while you squeezed him, in every sense of the word.

"Come on, we both know you can do better than that." Caleb encouraged you, placing a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips with the hope that his moans wouldn't sound as pathetic as they truly were. Maybe he had a chance to prove that he wasn't a total loser who wasn't already holding off his release.

His soft praises faded into a harmonic haze as he peppered your face in kisses while your hips met his in a rhythmic motion. Caleb admired every aspect of you more than anyone ever could, and he wanted you to know that. He was willing to give you everything you asked for and more. He wasn't afraid of pleasing you, and it had you arching your back in an attempt to find a different angle. One that made you see universes unfolding before you, universes in the same color as the irises that mesmerized you on a daily basis.

"When did it get dark?" You managed to mutter, still putting a lot of effort into forming a coherent sentence while your eyes studied the darkness of the room – your body still slumped against his.

The smell of his cologne enveloped your being, calming you down. Caleb was there with you, and he wasn't going anywhere without you.

His hand redirected your face to rest against his chest, feeling his heart race under your cheek and his laughter erupt from his throat. "You're totally out of it, huh pipsqueak?" Caleb teased, flicking his hat before he took it off of your head and set it aside so he could replace it with his face.

A position that reminded you so much of how he used to hold you when you were still the same height.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." He murmured, picking you up effortlessly right after he was done kissing the top of your head to carry you to the bathroom. "I've got you."

[janluxe]

VDAY ACTIVITIES – JASON TODD

– word count; 1.3k

– contents; fluff, angst(?) & mentions of violence but nothing too graphic.

– summary; the day's activities don't go as planned when Riddler holds you hostage.

– a/n; This was rushed. there might be mistakes, and I will most definitely update it asap. Happy Valentine's Day everyone, taken or not all that matters is that you're satisfied with being with yourself first, so give love that person you see in the mirror before you expect anyone to do so. have a nice day ♡

Jason was never big on the holidays. In his eyes, such occasions were simply another way for companies to earn more money in a short time span, plus they never held much meaning to him. Until he met you. A big part of him felt inclined, not pressured, in trying to follow the rules each tradition set – or at least he tried to. If that was what would bring a smile to your face, he was willing to put in the effort.

Hence why he was putting his vigilante identity on the side for the day and found himself among civilians instead, surrounded by an ocean – the term sea would be an understatement of what his poor eyes had to endure – of red products.

Using a day as an excuse for one's ignorance of their partner's need for affection and attention with buying gifts was one more society thing he couldn't, and had no intention to, understand.

His gaze wandered, hoping he'd find something suitable. An idea popped into his mind the second he set eyes on a heart-shaped box and immediately knew what he had to do.

The trip to a local flower shop made this whole shopping spree feel like a personal Odyssey, but just like the epic poem; in the end, everything was worth the suffering. The harsh red of the roses balanced out with the softness and pure white of the lilies better than he could've imagined, almost looking like a crime scene so elegantly executed on ground in which the earth was hiding under a veil.

His hands worked effortlessly since he had already pictured everything already set up, each little detail serving its purpose. Jason was the kind of person who would prefer expressing his affection privately, through small acts such as this when he wasn't clinging by your side.

There was a faint feeling of pride cursing right through him while he spared a moment to admire his work; the dining area tidied up, the table perfectly looking with the bouquet and petals resting on the soft surface of the tablecloth – he even considered lighting a few candles to set the mood, like they do in the movies, but he settled on the city lights that were brightening the room from the big window next to the TV.

However, as the saying goes, ‘good things don't last forever’ – Jason's soft breathing was interrupted abruptly by his phone ringing, his shoulders slumped as he practically dragged his feet all the way over to pick up. An unknown number, how lovely. Maybe it was just a grandma who messed up the number. He seriously didn't need to worry over this.

Before he could properly greet or ask who dared disturb him, a familiar voice broke through the other side of the line. “Riddle me this, Red Hood,” Definitely not a wholesome grandma, dammit, plan A aka try-not-to-worry just crumbled to the floor. A small grunt escaped the back of Jason's throat, pressing his tongue against the softness of his cheek and then clicking it. “A ticking clock, a burning fuse. One wrong move, and you will lose. Its final toll a deadly chime. Solve me fast or say goodbye. What am I?” Riddler continued, his voice doing what it does best at pissing Jason off.

Throwing out empty threats during dangerous situations wasn't one of Jason's characteristics. And with that in mind, who would be surprised that he was already out the door; armor and equipment waiting for him in the car – he didn't need any more bullshit Riddler would give him, he'd figure out your location in half the amount of time.

It was no secret to anyone how many sadistic tendencies Nygma had alongside the most inconvenient timing of all time. You were completely isolated in a room filled with bright green clues on the walls that surrounded you, clues that made no sense whatsoever, especially when you felt the space closing in on you. The timer bomb he had locked around your wrists was not much help either. Your skin burned an angry red and grew heavier and heavier the more time went by.

Despite your body's protests, you didn't put an end to your attempt to get out of this God awful place. Dizziness eventually caught up to you as you felt a familiar warmth trickle down your face – filling your eyebrow with a reddish color that matched the scheme of the occasion.

On the other side, the Riddler watched – he always did. His taunts echoed in your ears. Even the static didn't stand in his way to humiliate other people for not being as bright as he was. But, he was no star. He was a mere match, burning up faster than he was aware of.

Was Jason's newfound impatience mentioned in this story?

The lock of the door was shot off. The sound bounced off the walls, startling the guilty and giving a sense of hope to the innocent. And if that wasn't good enough for a dramatic entrance by a former theater kid, he had the best ideas for ending a play. The place remained dead silent, with the only interruption being the ticking of the time bomb when Jason threw a bag at him, soaked and filled with the heads of those who tried to stop him. He had done Riddler a favor, making sure that this narcissistic bastard got his hands dirty by the blood of his thugs.

Jason Todd wasn't Batman. Mercy was never his cup of tea, and it wasn't tolerable when it came to his loved ones.

Many often seem to forget that part, but the Red Hood will remind them. He never took off without leaving a mark behind. In this case, it was a bullet to Nygma's leg – a gift as he would call it, for he spent a bullet on a lowlife.

“How badly are you injured, love?” The pitch in Jason's voice reminded you of how much worry he had within him throughout the whole process. From his point of view, the possibility of losing you was a valid reason for him to never forgive himself. Without waiting another second for you to mutter a response or some pathetic excuse, he slipped his hand under your shirt, gently running his fingers over your skin – mindful over his touches and small taps, not wanting to stir any overwhelming sensations in you.

Jason allowed a soft sigh to escape hum, his shoulders relaxing the moment he had ensured you hadn't endured any physical pain. His eyes fluttered shut, letting himself bask the bittersweet moment of not being there on time and of ensuring your safety at last.

“I'm sorry, love.” Not allowing you to tire yourself out as he kept talking, his voice barely above a whisper while he buried his face into your shoulder and found some comfort in the scent he was very accustomed to.

Even with the corner of your eye you could spot the preparations he had made in your shared apartment; bright heart-shaped balloons decorated the usual darkness of the kitchen, the table was already set for two and he had already cooked your favorite but it had gone cold by now. The small movement of your head caught his attention, and almost immediately, he knew what you were looking at as well as the kind of thoughts that were going through your mind.

“I'll make Valentine's day up to you, I promise.” Jason muttered and gently tightened his embrace around you, protecting you from anything unexpected even for this passing moment.

[janluxe]

𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹'𝑺 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑭𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff, a hint of angst and implied smut

– summary; spending new years with your childhood best friend with who you spent a night with

– word count; 1.2k

– a/n; This is rushed, late, and my first time writing smut. But happy (late) new year! ♡

Your friendship with Jason goes way back, even before he became the vigilante he is today. When you used to play in the garden of the Wayne Manor and always ended up getting a bit too rough, leaving your knees bruised and bloody before Alfred would fix them up for you. The young boy would sit by your side and hold your hand as he muttered butchered apologies – he wouldn't hurt you. It was never his intention.

The small frown of pure concern etched on his face every time you got hurt as he rushed to your side in order to help in any way he possibly could always give you a feeling of security.

He was always there for you like you were for him, earning titles like his most trusted associate in the militia, his closest friend before and after what happened to him in Arkham, his first time.

That night, when you promised no romantic attachments to each other – even after you saw a grown man who had missed so much of his life due to what he had to go through so vulnerable under you; reacting to your every touch, letting you taste the desperation on his tongue as he pulled you in a bruising kiss to muffle any sounds of weakness his mind was encouraging him to let out for you to hear. A man people have learned to fear in such a short period was writhing – no, begging, for you to not take your hands off him.

Where had his innocence gone? You couldn't help but wonder how this messy, broken person that was currently kneeling before your frame was the same one you grew up with, and God help him, for he was so far gone. His cold hands rested on your thighs, keeping them in place; his touch gentle against the softness of your skin in contrast to his rough one as he made his best efforts to impress you.

Jason took his time, his logic skills? Long forgotten. A faint smile tugged on his lips. He allowed himself to feel the taste of your ‘essence’ on his tongue overwhelm his senses – visibly shivering while he found himself mindlessly admiring you as much as each and every one of your pleasant reactions. Communication skills? Completely turned off, and you could tell when you noticed him mumble incoherent gibberish all in a pathetic attempt to beg.

You were brought back to the present when Jason's sigh of disappointment echoed in the emptiness of the room, another group of militia soldiers had lost their base to the one person he made a promise to kill – the Bat.

His expression grew tired. You could tell, regardless of the mask that he hid himself beneath and all the armor he used to protect his scars, you knew him that well. As soon as the fuzz of the mask's robotic effect faded, you spoke up, “I hope you follow along with the plans we have.”

Your intentions were clear; try to get Jason to cheer up a little, and the bare minimum was to at least help him get his mind off of everything he had going on. Although, your remark earned you a huff of air before his mask was lifted by the press of one button. “Alright… You're a pain, you know that?” He responded with a playful hint to his usually serious voice, a look of defeat settled in his expression.

In your books, that was a win.

It's funny seeing how people ignore the cold for the sake of getting the preparations ready for their guests or those who are lucky enough to expect family members to come back to spend their holidays back at home. The house filling up with chatter and laughter in every corner is a miracle not everyone had the chance to enjoy.

Sometimes life doesn't turn out exactly how you expect. The kind of thoughts that consumed your mind weren't anything other than what you had done in your course of life, leaving your vision clouded.

“You're uncharacteristically early.” Jason pointed out with a tinge of playfulness to his tone. He never had the difficulty of calling you out on your bullshit. New Year's Eve. You had arranged something casual, changing into another year and hoping for the best atop a rooftop where the big screen of the city's center was visible, and a champagne ready to be opened after the countdown and emptied into the two glasses he had brought along.

It wasn't long until the countdown had already begun, people's voices echoing in the city's filled streets along with yours harmonizing with Jason's rough one. The light of the bright screens brightened its surroundings, making the thin layer of snow shimmer in the darkness the midnight sky had to offer – a sparkle that reminded you of Jason's eyes, but you quickly snapped out of it.

His drunken smile was a sight for sore eyes, bearing all of his teeth like he used to when he was less broken – his little smile. Jason’s gaze seemed focused on every part of you, and at the same time, he looked so out of it. You couldn't feel even just a little grateful that the alcohol had gotten to his head and momentarily lost the mask he had grown such an attachment to, so much that he preferred it.

It was the same Jason under all the walls he had built up around himself when his the most important years of his life were snatched away from his shaky hands, the very same that cradled you after nightmares that left you heaving and searching for your sanity among the most vulnerable pieces of yourself, the ones that you held onto during the freezing nights like this to stabilize yourself upon the ice that had settled on the ground.

Jason, with his fucked up past – one of the few ones who had every right to be mad at the world and rough around the edges to the world for turning its back, yet you were his world and he chose to be gentle. You were his witness as a feather-like touch ran down your arm and made itself comfortable over your hand.

The scent of the bubbly drink on the tip of his tongue brought you back to the present. It was clear that he was lightheaded, but part of him was still aware of his surroundings. Well, he was anyway, until he rested his head on your shoulder without a single care in the world. “I love you.” He muttered, his breath coming out in a cloud of fog in contrast to the coldness of the world.

The words slip out easier than he could ever imagine, but he means it. This time was unlike any other time before. He wasn't comforting his best friend or hugging them goodbye because he was leaving for a mission. It was a confession and a drunken one at that.

Jason hadn't lost himself. “Happy New Year, Jay.” You muttered. A sharp sigh escaped him as he allowed himself to get overwhelmed by the feeling of your hand rushing through his hair.

A new year comes with new beginnings, and maybe this year can be better than what you expected.

[janluxe]

𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff and mostly batfam stuff instead of just romance

– summary; a casually chaotic Secret Santa with the bat family as Jason's partner.

– word count; 1.5k

The roofs of the houses were beginning to gain a white hue as more snowflakes fell gracefully – the children in the city found joy in it, their laughter echoed in the streets while they initiated snowball fights with their friends and neighbors. Adults were busy shopping or grabbing a coffee to catch up in the presence of their loved ones, and the holiday music played in every street. Christmas was known for bringing even the most distant people back together.

A part of you hated how cold it was, but it was your idea to take a walk around the city with your partner before you drove over to the manor for Christmas day like you usually do. However, how can one ignore such events on these joyous days just for their own comfort?

The fuzzy feeling of the gloves around your hands and your coat enveloping you in its warmth was rather enjoyable even if the world outside was freezing while you walked with Jason. A soft sigh escaped you as you finally entered Wayne Manor, welcomed by Alfred opening the door for you and the heat that escaped the inside of the building.

Greetings, hugs, and smiles were exchanged with more excitement than usual while you took your seat on the couch in the main living room amongst the rest of the family – everything was decorated; the tree that you all helped set up, stockings on the fireplace with everyone's names engraved on the soft red fabric and no one can skip Alfred's baked goods resting on the coffee table.

It's odd thinking that a few years back, most of the family members were off doing their own thing instead of being here and spending time with everyone else like Jason avoided them for a good few years before he finally gave in. Now, everyone was present and agreed to have a Secret Santa along with the rest of the activities scheduled for that day.

Tim and Damian were surprisingly getting along, wearing matching Christmas sweaters as well, and then you noticed Dick supervising the two with a proud smile drawn on his face as he kept a conversation with Jason and Steph. Duke was helping Alfred bring in more sweets on the table. Cass and Barbara were calmly chatting with you about various topics and the one at hand; who was Secret Santa for who?

Meanwhile, Bruce observed everyone with a hint of a smile and a sigh as the place filled with chatter and the life it lacked most of the year due to responsibilities, his shoulders relaxed as he was more than happy to host this event annually and welcome his family –and those who he considered family– home.

“Alright everyone, enough of your chit chats. Let's start.” Dick stated, too excited to wait even further as he quickly moved to grab a present from under the tree and took a moment to read the name on it and handed it to Cass, and then kept handing out presents to everyone.

Each family member got something based on their personality, training, or hobby, and some presents were filled with meme cards describing them. Eager chuckles echoed in the room before Bruce interrupted.

“Who got that for Damian?” He asked in a mockingly firm tone as he pointed at the young boy swaying a katana similar to the one he had when he got trained by his grandfather in his hands. Just before anyone could answer, Barbara did everyone a favor and started playing Christmas music through the speakers set by the tree.

Jason scoffed at the sight of Bruce's dynamic with Damian – it had been a while since a youngling had given him a heart attack, enjoying the show and unwrapping his present. His hands traced the hardcover of the book as he lifted it up and read the title; ‘All the light we cannot see’ which had him confused for a moment. He had that book in his library already, didn't he? So he studied it further, flipping through the first few pages only to find that not only was it a first edition copy, but it was signed too.

His eyes flicked to you as his hands traced the sign on the delicate page of the book before he snapped the book closed with a smile brighter than the star atop the tree. Jason immediately knew that his gift was from you since he had been ranting about how much he wanted this for the past month or so. His suspicions were confirmed by the smile on your face.

It was really hard to find it online and get it signed just for him, but you knew it would be worth it.

“You didn't.” Jason mumbled, finding the fact that he had this book in his hands as he clutched onto it like it might disappear into thin air.

The known-for-his-violent-ways Red Hood was now acting like a literal child on Christmas, completely awestruck and bringing you in a tight hug as he muttered his thank you's. His attitude earned a chuckle from you, his embrace giving you even more warmth while his heart was beating out of his chest.

Duke blinked a few times. The newest addition to the family was having a hard time trying to process the sight before him. “Is Jason okay, or is he having some sort of cardiac arrest?” he managed to mutter, his gaze shifting to everyone else laughing at his question.

Your gift consisted of newly made gadgets, upgraded equipment, and a personal touch with a vintage Polaroid to top it off – definitely Tim's job.

Yet you couldn't help but be thankful for those, given Dick's situation; shirts that were literally merchandise about his butt, an eye mask for power naps, and a ‘big brother manual’ book. “Whose idea was this?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in mock annoyance, a small smile brightening his fine features.

“That's a brilliant idea, Dick.” Jason chimed in, not bothering to hide his usual smug smirk. It was definitely him who thought of that combination as a good Christmas gift for his older brother.

Meanwhile, Barbara wasn't having it easy either, with the present in her hands containing a vintage phone and a custom Lego set of Oracle. “A Nokia? Really?” She asked, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she turned to face Steph. “You're lucky I like Lego sets, but you're stuck in this with me.” Barb threatened playfully as she set the box by her side.

Stephanie raised her hands in the air in mock surrender, she didn't seem to mind the idea of building a custom Lego set in the company of Barbara; in fact, it was a good opportunity to spend a girl's night along with you and Cass while having a chit chat – or gossiping. “It's for emergencies. And the Lego set was cute.” She explained with a shrug.

“Fine. You'll see how cute it is when you have to build this many pieces.” Barb protested, her tone lacking real bite as she pointed back at the amount of pieces written on the box. “You're all invited to our suffering.” She commented jokingly, glancing at you and Cass.

Cass perked up at the idea, “I'll bring the snacks.” She said simply, her voice soothing as ever even as it held a bit of enthusiasm as she gave Barbara a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Dick was flipping through the pages of the manual and hastily reading the contents before he could comment on them. “Who wrote this?” He scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, and continued reading. “...’Always take responsibility for your siblings' mess-ups.’ Really, Jason?”

Jason leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as an amused huff escaped him. “Merry Christmas, Dick.”

Tim studied the merch, trying his best to bite back his laughter at what his eyes met while Duke observed alongside Damian, who decided to address the situation accordingly. “That was uncalled for, even by your appallingly low standards, Todd.”

Dick sighed and shook his head once more, yet he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he couldn't help but find the situation entertaining. “You're so getting payback next year. And I'm rigging the draw.” He stated as he tried on his nap mask with a proud smirk.

Bruce, sitting quietly by the fireplace with Alfred whom he had exchanged gifts with, took another sip of his coffee and sighed, allowing himself a small chuckle as he watched the banter unfold. He was prouder than he'd care to admit, of everyone in the room.

“Everyone, pause.” You interrupted every party in the room as you took hold of your brand-new Polaroid and held it out for a selfie, trying to make sure everyone was in the frame. “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’.” You exclaimed with pure excitement and messily snapped a picture, holding the moment forever captive.

– a/n; Merry Christmas and happy holidays in general ♡

[janluxe]

𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑹 – 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; angst with a sprinkle of fluff for good measures.

– summary; in their early stages of life, most humans tend to grow fond and form a kind of bond with their favorite color. It's always the same color that will either follow them or haunt them for the rest of their spent time on earth, constantly reminding them of their memories.

– word count; 1.3k

Every person has a favorite color, right?

Well, Jason didn't have a favorite color. Sure, when he was Robin, he had chosen green as his favorite of the entire color palette, one that represented his hopes for the future awaiting him.

However, after the physical and mental suffering he went through, he was just a kid trying to serve justice to the poor world under that hero mask that he once wore with pride; Joker's plans had something else in store for him. The association of the color green with the psychotic clown that haunted him and then the same situation with his resurrection in the Lazarus Pit. He no longer wanted anything to do with it.

The bitter truth is he never bothered to think about such a silly question. Yet here he was, discussing how humans have some sort of bond with their favorite color their whole life. And here you were, guessing his favorite color after you had explained to him all about yours.

Ever since he was brought back from the dead, Jason had found himself endlessly trying to understand why Bruce refused to avenge his death. Why someone who was legally considered family, who had raised him, trained him, and molded him into what he had become, refuse to overstep that stupid boundary? Maybe Jason wasn’t worth it. Not as much as Dick, who was always the golden child. Or maybe Bruce’s rule as Batman—his only rule—meant more than any bond they had ever shared. The thought of it made his chest tighten. Every time he allowed himself to drown in the idea, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that his thoughts were not true, it stung like an open wound. It was like a scar that refused to heal, a constant reminder of the life he’d lost and the man who refused to act on his behalf. It consumed him, more than he'd like to admit—this lingering doubt, this burning question that gnawed at his every thought. And the worst part was that he didn’t know how he’d ever be able to move past it.

He was overwhelmed by this trance of thoughts almost daily, especially when everything around him fell into an unsettling quiet. The silence only added to the weight of his frustration and self-doubt. He couldn’t stop wondering if Bruce had seen something in him, something different from the criminals he fought, then what made him so unworthy after his death? That day, when Bruce had found him committing a crime—a genuine crime—Jason had been desperate, angry, and broken. But hadn’t he been the same boy Bruce had taken in, trained, and called family? What had changed? Jason would search amongst any file in the Batcave to satisfy his curiosity and maybe ease his frustration. In Jason's mind, he was always the same. No matter what his title was, it never defined him as a personality – he was always rough around the edges, but he wasn't cold before.

So, matters such as favorite colors had become childish for him, and he – being the infamous Red Hood – definitely had other plans than to sit down with the only neighbor he could trust and bond within this whole building on a rooftop and discuss subjects for mere children who were just exploring their inner world.

But at least one of you found it entertaining and considered it a good way to get to know each other a little better without getting too personal or touching a sensitive subject on accident. Or so you thought. At first, you didn't quite catch the changes in his body language; how he sulked and tensed even more, making himself smaller in the space he was in every time you took a new guess.

Jason's mind spun with all these questions, and silence seemed to stretch endlessly around him. The weight of his thoughts pressed on his chest, but just as he began to slip further into his spiral of defeat, a familiar voice broke through the silence.

“Maybe... red?” Your voice snapped him out of his trance, his teal eyes finding yours while he readjusted his position to lean back on his hands in an attempt to gain time or avoid the question altogether. Soon, Jason let out a give-in sigh and subtly cocked his head to the side when he realized you wouldn't change the subject.

Jason smiled to himself, his gaze focusing on the dark night sky above the two of you for a second; the stars were barely visible tonight as anything other than his inner turmoil seemed peaceful before he looked back at you. He was processing your guess and taking his time to put his thoughts and feelings into words, which he always struggled with, and even when his sentences were formed, they couldn't leave his throat without it hurting.

The vigilante rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension that he didn't even realize was weighing down on him, his hands embracing the coldness of the concrete underneath his fingertips as he tapped a quiet melody against it and allowed the coolness of the material and the faint sounds of the City and the street below ground him.

“Sure, red.” His reply was plain, with uncertainty creeping into his voice without his notice. You noticed it no matter how much he tried to play it off, and the confusion etched on your face seemed to amuse him, if anything.

You took a second to gauze his expression before you muttered, “You don't sound very convinced.” The words in your admission hung in the air for a moment before they earned you a low, brief chuckle from the back of his throat.

Jason let out a long exhale. He earned himself some time to search his mess of a mind to find whatever he possibly could to justify the tension that stuck onto his skin with a pathetic excuse or a stupid lie that he could only hope that you'd buy without a second doubt. “I'm just not used to these kinds of conversations.” His voice remained steady, holding it together as his mind flooded with images of his past, the bright colors on the lining of his Robin suit, the greenish hue that gave his iris a sense of warmth – a time when he hadn't lost all of these things.

Of course, you noticed his hesitation once again. But pressuring people into keeping up with the conversation or the questions you throw at them isn't the best thing you can do to maintain a human relationship. “Is that the reason you chose your vigilante name? Or was it the little red riding hood?” You joked in a poor attempt to ease him with a slightly more light-hearted conversation.

Jason met your gaze for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching as he was briefly reminded of having his identity revealed to you. Then, he scoffed, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation, though the playful hint in his actions softened the edge of his response. “Please. I've got more layers to my personality than that.”

His response, though sharp, seemed to dissipate some of the tension that had settled between the two of you. The air felt a little less thick, a little less heavy. For a moment, it almost felt normal again, as if the weight of everything wasn’t pressing down on either of you.

If only he were to admit that green used to be his favorite color, of what remained of the old him anyway – but at this point, he reckoned it was time to move on from the past and let the color paint the walls of someone else's memories, someone who could still see it for the life and hope it once stood for.

– a/n; there might be some grammar and spelling mistakes. also, I wrote Jason based on the UTRH movie. either way, thank you for reading this & have a nice day ♡

[janluxe]

RUN AWAY WITH ME, JOHN

(I think about this scene between Arthur and Mary often but i cant handle to write angst🙁)

John watched you. It was almost as if he was admiring your courage for a moment, but you couldn't be too sure about what was going through his mind, not when he was as still as a statue frozen in time.

Running away from your troublesome life to start anew with the only person you needed in your life seemed appealing, even to John's eyes. The family you had made along the way was the only thing holding both of you back, but if you want to live a better life, you have to make the necessary sacrifices.

The cowboy standing before you took a sharp breath in – he had considered running away with you before, yet now that you've made it come to reality, he wasn't sure why he was hesitating.

Every thought was now crossing his mind in just a few seconds. Thinking about how much freedom could come with starting a new life with you, but at the same time, there would be consequences.

John felt some tension leaving his body as he released a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

“I'll follow you.” You felt a wave of pure relief wash over you as you read his lips before the sound of his rough voice could reach your ears. His body language gave away everything he didn't allow to escape – his posture mimicking yours as he relaxed his shoulders, resting his hands on his belt as he held your gaze.

He embraced the idea like no other; after moments of hesitation, John realized that was what he was born for; to run wild and free from the law or a gang that was now causing itself to crumble to pieces. It was useless to stay here when almost everyone had run off to live a better life and start anew – so why couldn't you do the same with him?

Being a part of this gang wasn't an easy task, constantly on the run with people other than yourself to care about. The unfair sacrifices, the losses of human lives along the way left your soul anything but unbruised.

The soft wind worked in his favor, tousling his wild hair and sending a few strands across his face. It wove effortlessly through his dark locks, as it did between the leaves, leaving a quiet melody in its wake while some of them gracefully fell on the ground.

Everything comes to an end, the only thing you can control is whether you are content with the life you had before it's your time to fall.

John was aware of the kind of life you wanted to lead, and he wanted to play a part in it, have a place in your memories, and make new ones together.

[janluxe]

a canon event for every oldest daughter is being told “you would be a good lawyer”

[janluxe]

Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s her dads fault.

[janluxe]

IN SICKNESS – JOHN MARSTON

(I'm sick & this is how I cope, so it might suck I'm sorry 😭.)

The weather around you was something you admired as the leaves turned all shades orange and allowed themselves to fall with the gentle guidance of the autumn breeze and eventually meet the grass, contrasting their hues. Yet a much-hated characteristic of this season was how easily anyone could contract a sickness they'd have to suffer with for at least a few days.

The usual chatter around camp was nothing more than an annoying buzz in your ears as you lay in your bedroll, trying to ease your discomfort.

Your sickness started with subtle symptoms, and brushed it off–you had matters to attend to, and you had certainly faced worse than this. The donation box wasn't going to fill itself. Everyone had to do their part before starvation was another thing this gang would worry about.

It wasn't long before exhaustion caught up to you. Your body came down with a fever as it tried its best to heal itself, heat pulsing through your skin as you began feeling pain, finding its way into your bones, and making a home of them.

You weren't much of a use for the gang right now. Not while you couldn't move an inch without feeling like your legs would give out at any given moment. Not when everything outside of the blanket over you was freezing for your currently burning up body.

Yet, no member present in camp left you to rot; with everyone showing their concern about your well-being in their own way, as Pearson provided you with warm meals, Arthur and Sadie fetching medicine to ease your pain and the remaining people close to you made sure to contribute enough cash to the camp to cover this week's expenses to cover your part as well.

While the rest of the gang did their bit in different ways–John remained stubbornly sat by your side; watching over you every passing second, making sure you were okay as he tried his best to help you get comfortable. He knew he could easily contract whatever had you breaking down, but he simply didn't care as much as he cared about you getting through it.

Certainly, if not everything, then most things around you felt uncomfortable; the sounds that worsened the ringing in your ears, the way the light made its way through the tent flaps and landed right on your eyes, making your head hurt, or the way you felt completely weak. You just couldn't decide which was getting on your nerves more.

“Hey, I need you to sit up.” His rough voice snapped you out of your trance as you tried sitting up with his help despite your body's protests. “There ya go.” John sighed with relief when he saw you finding the courage to follow his instructions, a small smile tugged on his lips as he brushed your hair out of your face before he reached for the medicine he had lazily placed beside your bedroll.

John carefully popped off the lid and gently held the bottle against your lips, waiting for your breath to steady. “You got this, it's alright.” He mumbled softly in an attempt to ensure that the ringing in your ears wouldn't become unbearable because of him. Much unlike his usual coarse personality, this time around, there was something soft and kind with the way he was treating you with care as if you were something to be handled delicately and looked after.