#it’s where I belong and it’s so unfair that I’m not between them right now

[yuzurins]

“you’re being childish.”

“i’m not!”

“you are.”

sae chuckles, carefully putting the dishes back to where they belonged as he finishes up washing them, and you hate how much of a malewife he looks like.

“it’s not that big of a deal,” he starts walking over to where you rest on the couch. “you know i didn’t mean it.”

you turn your head away from him, scoffing when he tries to ruffle your hair. “you’re lying,” you turn back to face him. “you’re literally smiling right now!”

the laugh that sae was trying to suppress comes out at your accusation, and he cocks his head to the side. “okay, you caught me.”

but just as you’re about to open your mouth in retaliation, he cuts you off, “but what’s wrong with telling the truth?”

“you—“ the words are struggling to get out of your mouth, “you can’t just tell someone their cooking tastes like dogshit!” you poke him in the chest, a bit too aggressively, and sae swears he sees a flash of concern on your face, despite it doing nothing to him (but he thinks you’re cute for trying). “especially your girlfriend, mr. prodigy!”

“come on, i didn’t say it was dogshit.” he reasons, not that it does much. “it was just… not very appetizing.”

“that doesn’t make it any better, sae.” you roll your eyes and avert your gaze back to the tv, mumbling to yourself, “you should’ve seen the look of horror in your eyes…”

your boyfriend laughs as he makes his way around to sit next to you (you subtly move over to leave a gap between you two though). you glare at him as he hums, knowing he’s up to nothing good.

“well, it’s okay. i’ll pay for your cooking classes.”

“hey!” you hit him in the arm, and the fact that he doesn’t bulge only puts a smirk on his face. “now that was uncalled for.”

he grabs your hand, holding it with his larger one as he just stares at you. “if i’m going to eat your cooking for the rest of my life, then i’d rather it be digestible, you big baby.”

it’s unfair how sae can make such a backhanded phrase sound so charming, how he can placate you with sweet-talk and silly teases.

“fine,” you give in and intertwine your hand with his, “i’ll let you off this time.”

he merely hums in agreement, trailing his arm around your shoulders as you scoot closer to him.

“was the food that bad though?” you hesitantly ask out of curiosity.

“oh, it was the absolute worst.”

a/n: i want to get off work already take this whole lot of nothing <3 @kouyun meow

[kazumist]

EPISODE 18 ✦ THE COMPETITIVE TYPE

LOVE, MAYBE — A CHILDE SMAU

masterlist / prev ep / next ep / wc: 677.

cw: mentions of having a dysfunctional family, eldest daughter struggles, and sensitive things about having a not-so normal childhood

the night wasn’t that cold like you expected tonight.

you don’t really have a clue how you ended up in this predicament in the first place—after ajax offered to accompany you on a late night walk, you just found yourself leaving your doorstep. he didn’t live that far from you; the only distance between his home and your dormitory was probably two or three roofs or so.

but could you really call the place you reside a home?

third grade values class. you remember how your old teacher from elementary school taught you the difference between a “house” and a “home”. a house simply refers to a building that someone lives in. a home, however, is a location (or, in some rare instances, a person) that one feels like they feel a sense of belonging to—a place where they feel like they’re loved. that lesson was probably the one that stuck with you the most.

having a dysfunctional family is not easy; it never was in the first place. it’s complicated. nauseating. stressful. dejecting. hearing your parents regularly argue without even thinking if their children are still present in the room was something you didn’t know how you endured (or is it enduring? it still happens these days anyway). and it’s unfair that you had to be mature at such a young age. being the eldest daughter in such a household is no joke—you can’t make mistakes because you’re supposed to be the “role model”, you’ll be the one who’s going to take the blame if your sibling does something wrong because they’ll say that you’re not guiding them right. (but isn’t it a parent’s job to guide their children in the right path? why do you have to shoulder such a burden?)

“pres!” your trail of thought gets cut off by an all too familiar voice.

“ajax,” you said.

“is that… a textbook you’re holding?” he asks. it was the textbook for your fundamentals of abm class. you looked down at the book in your hands, and you smiled sheepishly at him. “i… kinda got anxious at the thought of not doing anything, sorry.” 

ajax simply sighs at you and shakes his head. “it’s fine, but as long as i’m here, you aren’t allowed to flip through that textbook, okay?”

“... or maybe not. you’re still the one in charge here.” he says, taking back his words.

you let out a soft laugh at him, and ajax swears he just heard heaven. “you know, i never actually heard you say my name. it’s always pres; where did you even get it? not even our own classmates or orgmates call me that despite my position.” as he was about to reply, you added something else to your words. 

“well… except maybe alhaitham. he calls me that sometimes for some reason when we aren’t even classmates.”

ajax was too quiet for your liking as he walked beside you. “uhm... hello? are you still there?” you awkwardly asked him. “alhaitham also calls you pres?” he asks back. you confusingly  looked at him before replying. “yeah, he does, but he just usually uses my name most of the time.”

“does he have no sense of originality in his bones?” ajax mumbles to himself.

“huh?”

“it’s nothing; don’t mind it. i was the first one to call you that anyway.” 

“er, not really.” 

“...”

“ajax, are you seriously pouting right now?” you deadpanned at him. ajax pouts even more at that question. “no, i’m not.” a laugh erupts from you at his expression. “yes, you are.” ajax lets out an exasperated sigh in defeat. “i was the first one who started to regularly call you pres anyway.”

“well, if it’s any… consolation, i suppose, i like it better when you say it.”

ajax lets out a cheeky smile at your words. “so now you’re smiling? i never pegged you as the competitive type, ajax.”

“well, newsflash, pres! i’m quite competitive, just not in academics.”

“oh, really now? and where are you competitive then?”

“i’m quite competitive when it comes to you, actually.”

oh.

extra notes.

this was kinda fun to write. although initially it was supposed to be a short narrations, as you can see, i got carried away (oopsie)

to avoid confusion: reader lives in a dorm but she was thinking of her family home if that makes sense??

taglist (open): @xianyoon @mitsvriii @kizakiss @kissingkzuha @aethion @phtogravi @ell1e2010 @esthelily @b4tm4nn @hcmay @ivvieene @morganadorodo @kaitfae @kentply @scaranthropy @kyon-cherri @kookiibun @kochothehoe @mekiiiii @ibyobi @iuspired @tetsuskei @kunikuzushis-darling @morgyyyyyyy @chluuvr @scaradooche @kissmiere @a1-ic3 @bubblegum-angelquartz @tiredjxnna @levlucs-kiru @angeilix @cerisescherries @saeskiss @a-talkative-corn @briluvspnk @kamisatoyato @bbysatoruuu @viviixoxosblog @bambisz @chemiru @eternal-dokja @bflyprincess @jamieexistss @monocerosei @enjisthings @jangyung @hahalame @cupid-spams @snzhrchy @ukinya @luciledreamz @bisatanica @bananasquash @almond-t0fu @thegalaxyisunfolding @jaguarthecat [1/2]

[xappetites]

this was supposed to be a little Price thought but it got away from me and it's 1112 words

warnings: fem!reader who's decided kids aren't the best idea for her, mentions of sex and breeding kink, brief mentions of a disordered relationship w/food

“Are you still planning on children?”

It takes John a minute, in the post coital haze, to understand the question his wife whispers from the bathroom doorway, naked in the easy way of years together.

She stands there, skin reddened in the places he was just holding onto like a lifeline, and she looks at the towel in her hands instead of him. It’s steps, between them, but they turn to ice for John, a little Siberia in the middle of South East London.

“Loaded question, isn’t it, love?”

“You brought it up,” she breaks the frost, moving to settle on the edge of the bed, right next to him. Her towel is warm, he realizes, as she works it over where he’s drying itchy with sweat and cum. Barely wet and gentle on his skin.

And John knows what she means, can still feel the words on his tongue: I’ll fill you, love, fill you ‘till it takes. He doesn’t regret them, doesn’t want to regret them because it gets him there in record time, does the job so well for him that just thinking about them has his cock hardening again to the warmth and the wetness and the subtle pressure of her hands.

But that’s all it is, a fantasy that ends here, when he cums. He doesn’t spend his days imagining his wife pregnant in his daily life. In fact, now that he thinks about it, the thought’s strange, leadens his stomach with an irrational sort of anxiety. He spends too much time away, too far removed from this unstoppable woman, to think of her vulnerable and not feel a certain kind of madness tugging at the threads of his self control.

“Do you want children?”

He counters, buys time, though he knows it’s unfair to twist the question on her. They talked about it, once, before the marriage, when they felt younger and the future seemed so terribly malleable. John said it might be good to have a couple. But he didn’t want to be a Christmas dad, seeing his offspring every four to six months and have them cry in his arms because they don’t recognize a man who’s more thought than father to them.

He’d planned to retire, cut back at least, before he’d consider any children. And now he can’t, not with so much to do. He couldn’t sit by a desk and watch other people forced into the kinda shit only he —and Kyle and Soap and Simon— will voluntarily sign up for. So it’s looking more and more like it might not happen for him, and he’s comfortable with that.

But they’d agreed, back then, on an indefinite but small amount of kids. And now his wife, the one with an actual life and a home where she welcomes him, is not looking at him as he refuses to answer. Not until he hooks his fingers in the crook of her knee and smooths his thumb over her thigh. She sighs at the touch, leaves the towel in favor of drawing nonsense patterns over his stomach.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to have children, John”

He frowns, but waits in silence. There’s something sad hiding behind the fleeting smile she gives him, something guilty that makes him brace himself for movement. The impulse he’s felt since the moment he fell in love with her, to fight for her, against the world. Like he’s an attack dog, built for violent resistance in her name.

“My body feels off, some days, like I don’t belong in it. I skip breakfast sometimes, I leave the metro a station back, for the walk.”

Her voice is soft, but her eyes are unrelenting, now that she’s started. And she rushes through the admission, makes it a simple stating of facts, like making the shopping list.

“I don’t think I can survive having someone else in this body without hating them, and a baby doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve that. I’m sorry.”

John’s heart balloons in the quiet of the moment. He can’t help the lopsided smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth, which he realizes isn’t a reasonable reaction. But it’s this, the clarity and the unflinching honesty, why he adores her so completely.

Whatever ache is in the confirmation of closing this particular door, outweighed by the pride of knowing she trusts him with the naked, uncomfortable truths of her. And that, John supposes, is what burns at him and he doesn’t know how to put into words when he talks about filling her up, when he thinks about breeding, in the most primal, basic sense of the kink. He just wants to make himself a part of her, wants to know her to the last little cell and live in the spaces between them.

“So if you want to have children, I think we would have to consider other options.”

That comment brings John’s focus snapping back to her hands, to the way she spins her wedding band, tugs on it until it hits the speed bump of the knuckle, a gesture he isn’t sure is conscious but that telegraphs exactly where her head is at.

“You’re all I want, love. No hypotheticals.”

“John—“

“No,” he catches her hand, pulls it back to his chest. He uses it to anchor himself, sitting up to kiss away whatever objection she’s cooking up. “I don’t say what I don’t believe in, right?”

“Right,” her stance slackens and her body tilts forward so her torso slots against his, a perfect fit.

“Won’t bring it up again, love.”

“I like it,” it’s a mumble against his neck, his jaw, that turns into kisses that follow the line of his beard. “Just wanted to let you know, in case—“

John simply hums, keeps the groan in his throat, the one she likes best; because however tempting her sweet weight is on him, he’s weighing his options for breaching the other touchy subject this impromptu conversation raised, on a cold morning in the middle of his first week home in a while.

“About the eating—“

“I have it handled,” she says, stretching and twisting until her legs end up on each side of him again, "I'm trying."

"Ok. But you'll let me know if you need something from me, right?"

She nods, pulls back from him just to grin like she's misbehaving, or just about to.

"Could I have another round for now?"

And John laughs against her until she's squirming at the feeling of his whiskers on her skin, 'cause how could he ever deny his favorite girl.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Illicit affairs | twenty

 *Ellie’s POV* I felt like I was floating on a cloud right now. Noah and I laid in bed talking about everything and anything, cuddling and carelessly touching each others bodies. Kisses were stolen, laughter echoed the walls as he told me the most revolting jokes I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe I get to have this every night with this man, it was almost a sigh of relief. My anxiety of wondering when he had to leave or when I’d be seeing him again finally left me. 

“I can’t believe you’re all mine.” Noah swooned, biting my upper thigh gently. I squirmed from the contact and rolled onto my back. His midnight eyes melted me as he towered over me. I lifted my head, trailing kisses all over his neck before gently nibbling on his collarbone.

“And you’re all mine.” I breathed before kissing over the spot I left red. “We should …never mind.” Noah sat up on the bed between my thighs, his face was flushed as he looked down at me. He looked so beautiful, it was almost unfair.

“What?” He shrugged but there was still a serious look in his eye, my heart was racing wondering what thoughts were swarming his mind. “We should that tattooed on each other.” “What? Mine?” I gasped, never expecting him to do something that permanent with me. “Why not? We can commemorate us starting our lives together.” He smirks, dragging his lips over my bare knee. “Plus I want the world to know who I belong to.” “Care to do it tonight?” “Baby it’s 8PM, nowhere will be open.” He laughed between the countless kisses he trailed on down my thigh, getting close to uncharted territory. “Danielle’s boyfriend is a tattoo artist. He’s come over a few times to tattoo my impulses.” “Let’s do it.” He mused, stopping the barrage of kisses he left on my thighs. I rolled over and grabbed my phone to text Danielle, she replied right away and said they’d be over in an hour.

“I want you to write mine.” Noah said as we went into the living room to wait for them. 

“In that case I want you to do the same.” I replied walking over to my desk to grab my work notebook and a pen. We wrote a few different versions of the word before exchanging papers and choosing what one we wanted. We had both written ours in soft scripture but had our own flare on it, it was perfect.

“Ready to be stuck with me for the rest of your life?”

“Are you sure you want to be stuck with me?” I chuckled as there was a knock on the door. I let Danielle and Mark inside, they both greeted Noah and Mark went straight to work setting up his equipment. Noah was such a gentleman and embraced Danielle before taking the bottle of wine she brought into the kitchen for us. 

“El, I brought some wine.” Danielle offered, but it was more her way of getting me into the kitchen so we could talk in private. Noah brushed my cheek as he walked past me to go hang out with Mark, causing my face to flush his favourite shade of pink.

“Matching tattoos already?”

“Dani…” I groaned and I went to grab some wine glasses. 

“I’m kidding.” She laughed as she unscrewed the wine bottle and began pouring us some pretty full glasses. “I thought you two would’ve ran off and got married by now.”

“Trust me, I’ve thought about it.” I replied as I took a sip of my wine, “he is finally moving here though.” “Shut up!”

Before I could reply, Mark came into the kitchen to let us know he was ready. I grabbed my wine and went back into the living room with him. Mark had his kit set up and our stencils were ready to go. Noah sat on the couch, almost giddy that this was happening, he couldn’t hide his smile. His eyes met mine and my body instantly filled with butterflies, I absolutely adored every part of this man. 

“Where do you want yours?” “Ask her.” Noah replied, grabbing my hand to bring me closer to him. My finger grazed around where I bit earlier, but he was already tattooed there, obviously. I noticed he had the smallest blank space between where his neck tattoo and his chest piece begun, which was perfect. Mark said he would make it dark enough to stand out between the two pieces. I held Noah’s hand the entire time he got his tattoo done, luckily it only took a couple minutes. He hardly flinched and didn’t dare take his eyes off mine.

“I love it so much babe.” I smiled as Noah admired his tattoo in the mirror Mark held up. 

“Me too baby” Noah said softly, kissing my cheek before he got up.  

“Your turn El’s” Mark said giving the spot where Noah was sitting a slap. I scooted over as Mark grabbed the stencil. He motioned for Noah to come over and Noah studied my upper thigh, his finger ever so gently riding my shorts up, finally landing on my upper thigh where he was kissing me earlier. Mark nodded and put the stencil on, getting ready to start. Noah sat beside me as our eyes locked, his hand brushed my neck to help subside the pain I was feeling. Not gonna lie, this might be the hottest thing we’ve ever done, and we’ve done a lot of sinful things. After we were done, Mark wrapped our tattoos for us and we all sat on my patio drinking the rest of the wine, Noah opted out which I respected. We talked about Noah moving up here, what happened between Danielle and Bryan, which was simply him ghosting her because he was immature as hell. It was the perfect night and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Noah the entire time. His hand caressed my bare legs the entire time, even when he wasn’t speaking to me he was innocently touching me. 

“It’s perfect.” Noah smiled, kissing around my bandage after Danielle and Mark left, leaving goosebumps all over my body. “There’s no one in this world I want to be forever connected to like I am with you.” “Forever?” “Till my last breath.”

[gothamstreetcat]

Hi everyone, I know everyone is going through some pretty severe times right now, but recently I’ve found myself in a rough predicament. A week ago I suffered a pretty severe fall, where I fell 20ft off an overpass. It was really dark, raining pretty hard, and there were no traffic lights where I was at. I could barley see in front of me and I didn’t have on my glasses because they were useless at the time. I was walking home.

Because of the fall I hurt my back and chest pretty bad and I wasn’t able to move myself much when I was first admitted. I also broke my heel which resulted in surgery. Between the EMT’s finding me, the ambulance ride to the hospital, and being admitted it was extremely disorienting, scary, and frustrating.

Due to the surgery I will be out of work for a minimum of three months but probably more. I am unable to put weight on my foot for those three months and even after that it will be very hard - if you’ve ever broken a bone before you know it’s no joke. And if you live in the US, you also know what a rip-off our healthcare system is. I had not even reached my own outrageous deductible before this occurred and I’m not even sure what my insurance is even going to cover after that. I will also have to pay for physical therapy and on top of everything, I just got a notice for my rent going above 1k - which is extremely outrageous where I live.

I am also being moved into a psychiatric facility under the false assumptions that a jumped off the overpass. Despite that there was no evidence before or after the incident that supports this assumption. I have tried time and time again to prove how unfair this is to me to no avail. While being in the hospital on suicide watch, they confiscated all my belongings (despite that I could barley move in the bed due to how much pain I was in) and have since lost my wallet, keys, shoes during this time.

I have some money saved up in an account and enough paid time off to late me a month but I know it’s not going to be enough to sustain me being out of work.

I have spent so much of my life doing for others. Helping them, making things for them and doing for them all because I care about them and like to make them happy. I don’t regret any of it - it is truly one of the few things that bring me joy in this world, but now I need to ask for some help.

I’ve been on this site for a long time making gifs. I also do lots of crafts, like modifying jackets, making buttons, and painting. I write fanfiction and have made some fan videos over on YouTube. I plan to do some jackets and painting to try and cultivate a source of income while I am not working, but I am worried it won’t be enough.

I am willing to do commissions for stories and videos if anyone in interested. (But please keep it literally within my capabilities, I know it’s so limited but I’d be willing to go to the depths of hell if someone would pay me for it). I am also open to gifset requests. And I would be open to selling some of my art on here.

I have also set up a ko-fi for small donations and here is a link to my PayPal.

I know everyone hates these kinds of posts and there are A LOT of people in A LOT worse situations than my own. But I would literally be so appreciative of any support anyone is willing to give.

If you have any questions, comments or concerns/want to know more about my fall - please feel free to ask me. Thank you all for listening and those who have been supportive thus far.

Here is some of the work I’ve done:

[helenofsimblr]

Bob: I didn’t say that. But you stayed out late, and you didn’t contact me and update me. I’ve been down this road before, Elita. With Judith, the lies, the sneaking about and she was out there hurting people.

Elita: You think I’m like her!? You think I’m going to hurt people, suck them dry!?

Bob: No… I… I don’t believe that Elita. I… I’m not… accusing you, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m scared history is going to repeat.

Elita: My father stammered over his words, with hindsight I know what he meant. He had, he thought, a 50% vampire hybrid super soldier teen daughter who was literally sneaking about. I did stay out late with Ambrose and I did not report in. BUT, I didn’t hurt anybody and neither did Ambrose. But dad had seen all this before, and he was afraid, so I get it. 

Elita: I knew it! Another monster daughter for you to worry about! Well don’t worry because I’ll pack my shit and…

Bob: That’s enough. You’re not going anywhere. We won’t lose you like we did Judith, you’re not her. Judith was petty, selfish, and vain, and you’re none of those things. But Elita, I can’t have you lie to me honey. If you want to have my total trust, I have to have the truth from you.

****

Elita: Honesty, is the best policy. I told my dad the truth, with but one slight omission…

Elita: I was at the ruined church in Mag Heights, some of the kids at school set it up as a party place. I was told about it, and decided to go to try and make a friend, and fit in. I didn’t report in because I lost track of time, because… I met a guy there.

Bob: “A guy?” Do you know him from school? What kind of age was he?

Elita: He was a spot older than me, he’s a Senior I guess… and we went for a cheeseburger, well, he wasn’t hungry, but I ate. We got to talking, I lost track of time and ran home. NOTHING happened between us. I swear.

Bob: Thank you honey, I appreciate that. I want you to feel comfortable here and be able to come and go as you please, but I need you, Guy, John, and Lyra to all bear in mind… we are not normals. For us there has to be rules. For our safety and the safety of others. It’s unfair, it’s not right, but it’s how it must be.

Elita: I understand.

****

Bob: Come here!

Elita: My dad grabbed me in a hug. And I leaned my head on his chest as he held me tight. 

Bob: I am so proud of you, and I love you very much. Never forget those two things Elita. 

Elita: Thanks dad, I love you too. Sorry I didn’t tell you. 

Bob: Water under the bridge sweetheart. You being here has enriched all our lives, and we’d never be without you. We might not always agree, and that’s ok, because this is your home, with me and Lyra and you never have to feel like you don’t belong here. This is where you belong, with us.

Elita *quietly*: Ok, thank-you.

Bob: Good, now get your ass up to bed. You haven’t slept in 3 nights. Go go go! 

Elita: My own insecurities at that age manifested from time to time, hearing my father reaffirm his commitment and love to me, was just what I needed. I also did need sleep, so bed is where I went.

[estherax]

It’s not much to go off but I’m wondering how you feel about this? twitter dot com /martinluiga/status/1664288105376149504?s=46&t=GBiqosepIlUwin1chhX-zg

Thank you for sending me this tweet! I would have never seen it otherwise.

I completely agree that drawing so much attention to Kurvitz's unprofessionalism takes away from the main point.

However, completely ignoring employees' claims also feels very unfair; since one of the points of contention is unfair dismissal their statements could be used as evidence for workplace misconduct. I even looked up estonian labor law; I believe prior warning is not required if the contract breach is particularly severe, which is what I bet ZA/UM will go for in court with the entire "trying to sell the IP was the last straw" nonsense.

To me, the most frustrating part is the lack of concrete evidence. All we have are press releases, which are very biased and contradictory. And now the PMG video I guess. It's extremely difficult to anticipate a certain outcome based on the information we have now.

The PMG documentary definitely could have been better. The heavy focus on employees' opinions gave us more insight, but it also led to the majority of the video being focused on Kurvitz's behavior. I wish it was made clear that the legal dispute was initially about the share acquisition; unfair dismissal is just a consequence of that and it should be addressed separately.

The interviewer denounced Kurvitz's behavior and made sure to express worker's concerns to him in the interview, but I didn't see the same energy for Kompus and DE's IP being literally stolen from Kurvitz. Sure, they talked about the money and Haavel's involvement, but I'm curious how Kompus would've answered a direct question about taking the IP away from the game's creators. I believe Kurvitz and Rostov are still both minority shareholders, so they might still be able to block the decision to sell Elysium, but it doesn't grant them the right to use the IP since it technically belongs to a subsidiary of ZA/UM UK.

Idk if I'm reading too much into this, but I'm unhappy with the conclusion of the documentary. The wording comes off as quite one-sided: "the potential conspiracy", "if anything illegal has happened" is not really on the same plane with "this email is outrageous, I don't like where it's coming from", "Robert has entirely dismissed any criticism". I'm guessing the intent was to showcase both sides, but the conclusion definitely draws attention to Kurvitz's workplace misconduct. In my opinion, the email is unpleasantly vague, but the interviewer also gives it the most uncharitable interpretation. Mind you, he is completely correct in criticizing Kurvitz's behavior, but the video treats the dismissal and the share acquisition as the same issue, so denouncing Kurvitz here might make it seem like he can be blamed for the entire conflict.

This situation is a prime example of "stuck between a rock and a hard place", but what I'm trying to say is: I believe Kurvitz is still in the right when it comes to the ownership of DE and it's unfair to only support him under the assumption he's a perfect human being, who's never done anything wrong in his life.

I really hope the morality question won't interfere with the legality question. These two cases are not even about the same thing, and while workplace misconduct is clearly wrong, in this circumstance it's used to divert attention and make it seem like Kurvitz deserves to lose the rights to the game, since his employment at ZA/UM is directly tied to his access to Elysium's IP. If you ask me, being rude and not doing your job is not really comparable to laundering millions of euros, fraudulent share acquisition and ousting of employees while taking advantage of their creation.

[daveinediting]

I was gonna say that careers in my neck of the woods are subject to a lot of perception. A lot of preferences and assumptions. But I'm gonna guess that my industry and ones adjacent to it aren't the only ones susceptible to the way things look.

To be clear, central to my observation is the never ending struggle between perception and reality. Against which nothing and no one is immune.

In the story that was relayed to me, a group of young people were paying their dues working at a recording studio. They started at the bottom and did everything and anything that was needed... everything and anything that was asked for... and everything and anything that was about to be requested.

They were fast learners, quick on their feet, and passionate about the work they were doing. They were being paid to learn and do what they loved. They were living... the dream.

One day, a producer came in with a big project for the studio. Everyone was excited to be working on the project.

Except.

The producer requested a new crew. An experienced crew. An established crew.

Not the one that had learned their craft from the ground up at this studio.

So a new crew was brought in. At which point, the crew that had been working hard, biding their time for years, went to the head of the studio and asked: When’s is gonna be our time?

The immediate answer, of course, is that an established crew was requested by the client. End of story.

Further consideration, though, was problematic. Because if the crew was being seen as less than for just being the house crew regardless of their hard earned skill and experience... there really was no point in staying.

I don't know if they all left right then or if it was days, weeks, or a month... but leave they all did. Continuing their hard work and building successful careers elsewhere. Far from the perceptions that once held them back.

This was all once upon a time, of course. It happened so long ago that they laugh off the experience.

However. 

It's hard for me to see it that way because it seems like a professionally existential experience especially when you look at it through the lens of starting a career you're passionate about. It's hard for me to laugh it off like that because even from this distance it seems exquisitely personal. And it's hard for me not to be taken back by the patent unfairness of what happened even as I tell you that's how the world works.

Sometimes.

Maybe often.

My point being that it's important to judge the circumstances into which we commit our time and ability... as well as the people into whose hands we commit our careers. Especially as a picture of what we want from our careers comes into focus. Because once it does, that insight absolutely excludes certain professional circumstances. That insight absolutely excludes certain personalities whether they be worker bees, admin, or the CEO.

To take a page from management, hey. It's not personal. It's just business. The business of my career. Of yours.

Now, much like my early impressions about the practice of networking, characterizing a career as a practice of business also sounds artificial. It's certainly a cold view of the world. What it is, really, is a way of figuring out, as quickly as possible, where you don't belong. Because there are plenty of places, plenty of people who are simply not a fit. There's nothing wrong with acknowledging that reality. In fact, it's crazymaking to not acknowledge that reality. It would be like staying in a toxic relationship. Ish. 

Let's also keep right at the forefront of our minds the kind of environment in which we want to land and the kind of people with whom we want to live out our passions.

That's not nothing, by the way. It's a Life. A good one, a great one when you're surrounded by a group of friends in the same industry, with the same passions, pursuing the same goals. It's amazing when each and every one of you is invested in the success of the other, thereby making each other better with each day and each project..

It absolutely makes a difference and it's definitely life changing if this isn't what your career feels like or has never felt like. 

So yeah. It is fair to judge the quality of your work environment and the people you work with... with the express objective of figuring out where you don't belong. It is fair to not like this experience or those people on your way to figuring out where you belong.

In the end, it's not the job itself that makes your career, it's the job and the people you work with and for.

So getting those three elements rightly aligned is well worth the effort of gauging your every step along the path to that career.

Amen.

[enbydindjarin]

The bisexual urge to be sandwiched between these two😵‍💫

[mysticalrambling]

Ending It All Part 2 (C.E)

A/N: Here you go guys. Much awaited part 2 is here. I am so in love with this particular fan fiction and hope you guys like it. If you want me to write any blurbs related to this series, do let me know.I am open to requests.

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Part 1 

Chris Evans Fan fiction (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Chris regrets divorcing you and he tries to mend the relationship. However, you have already moved on with Tom Hiddleston and are quite happy. He has to just stand back while you and your children become closer to Tom and it is all his fault.

Warnings: Angst all the way.

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“Coming in?” Chris turned his face towards you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“No, I have some work. Just wanted to drop the kids off myself.” Your ex husband’s house was on your way so you just saved him a trip.

“Not even for coffee, darling?”

“Sorry but I will have to say no.” You still got flustered when he called you with nicknames. You had once decided to tell him to stop calling you with all these terms of endearment but you couldn’t build up the courage to do it.

It has been over a year since your divorce and the moment you think you are over him, he is right there to bring those feelings back. You were a mess when he moved out and you had to see him on the weekends for the kids. It looked like you were drowning and you couldn’t come up for fresh air. It was exhausting but after several months, it didn’t hurt that much. It didn’t feel like your heart was tearing into shreds. You felt numb but that was better than feeling like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

“That’s fine. See you Sunday?”

These were the only few sentences that were spoken between the two of you since the divorce. This was your new normal and you were starting to adjust to it. “Yeah, bye.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Sighing, he turned around and asked in a fake, cheerful voice. He didn’t get to be disappointed. These were the the seeds that he sow and he had to reap the results.

“I do.” A collective chorus came from the living room as they had already started to play with Dodger. Dodger was adopted from a shelter home about two weeks into the divorce. Loneliness was a destructive force and Chris hadn’t come to that realization until he was sitting in his home at eight, all alone. No laughter, no mess, no companionship. He went out that day and got a new dog. The apartment was eating him alive because it was a reminder of his ‘new life’. More like his ruined life.

“Daddy, you goin’ to be there for my match?” Jace looked up at his father and hoped that he wasn’t going to say no. There have been too many occasions this past year where he was not there for his children like Easter or Mia’s first day of school. He was either too busy with his career or he couldn’t bear to be with his family knowing that he wouldn’t be going home with them. He wasn’t strong enough to handle that truth.

“I’ll be there but I have work afterwards so I can only be there for half time.” The apologetic tone was all too familiar to the kids now so they just stayed quiet.

Chris noticed their disappointed look and continued, “When I get back, we’ll go to Disneyland for the whole weekend.”

“Mommy and Tommy will be going as well?”

Stopping in between making the pancakes, he asked with a venom laced tone, “Tommy who, Jace?”

“Mommy’s new friend. We like him.” Your son continued petting the dog without realizing the damage he is doing to his father. “New friend” was always a code for boyfriend and Chris didn’t know what to do with that information.

He knew that you had gone on a few dates with Tom Hiddleston because of the paparazzi. But he didn’t know that you both were serious. Your kids knew about him so it was pretty damn serious.

“He won’t be going with us.” Speaking with finality, he resumed cooking. You were his and that was not going to change. He knew he was being unfair but when it came to you, he lost all rationality.

“But he is our new dad.” Mia whined from her place and Chris just looked at her with a wounded look. His babygirl was putting someone else in his place.

His voice boomed throughout the house and both the kids looked at him with tears in their widened eyes, “I’m your only dad. Don’t you ever say that.”

“‘m sorry, daddy. Didn’t mean to make you mad.” Her chin wobbled and Chris was quick to realize his mistake. It was not your children’s fault. It was not your fault. It was his fault.

“Not your fault, baby. But you only have one daddy and that’s me.” Kissing her forehead, he wiped the single tear that managed to escape her blue eyes.

“’kay.” The kids got distracted again but Chris did not forget. He was still seething from the inside because Tom may have taken you away from him but he damn well couldn’t take his children.

They all get ice cream afterwards and the kids fall asleep in their rooms that Chris built from scratch. It was a lengthy process because he just kept remembering the times when he decorated their nursery with you. Such a beautiful memory and he was ruining it. The guilt ate him up inside when he realized that he may not get to ever decorate a nursery for your children again. He may not get to expand his family with you again. Again, it was his fault.

“Sorry, ‘m late. Work was hectic today.” Everything was so busy today because your boss signed up a new contract and he has been impossible to work with. You just wanted to go home and sleep for the whole week.

“It’s okay. They’re sleepin’ upstairs. Listen, we need to talk.” He was too consumed by anger and hurt to notice that you were too exhausted for everything.

“Go on.” You urged him, figuring that he might say that he won’t be able to make it to your son’s match. This was what most of your conversations were based on; him saying that he is too busy to be present at occasions related to your children.

“Why are my children referring to your boyfriend as dad?” He nothing but spat that sentence.

“I- I didn’t know about any of this. I’ll talk to them.” Stuttering, you tried to mediate the situation but nothing seemed to get through to him at the moment.

“No need. I already did that but for next time, keep your boyfriends away from my children.”

“Our children and I don’t let anyone near my children. We are serious.” You were offended by his crude tone and you weren’t just going to let him walk all over you.

“You can’t be serious with him. As a matter of fact, you can’t be serious with anyone.” Your ex husband declared it like it was a law. He didn’t know how to react to what you said. All the pain was converted into anger because that was his current form of expression.

“Are you serious?” This was all too much for you to handle. How could he say that?

“Yes. You only belong with me. I regret it so much (Y/N).” Chris’s expressions told you where he was going.

“Oh, stop. You can’t just do that. Can’t come bargin’ in my life and mess it all up again. I am happy.”

Chris reached out his hand but you took a step back. He was not allowed to touch you anymore. “I was mistaken. My career is not above you, darlin’. Never was.”

“You made me feel worthless. You made me feel as if I was the reason our marriage ended. Won’t allow myself to get sucked back into this relationship.”

“I know I broke our family. I tore us apart and didn’t even apologize for it properly. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” There was a stream of tears running down his face and you wanted to wipe them away but you resisted.

There were still times when you wished that you were still happily married to Chris. That you still had your perfect, little family. The divorce made you feel worthless and lonely. There were times when you couldn’t even look at your children because they were the exact replica of your ex husband. You once adored the fact that they were his carbon copy. However, now you couldn’t help but get angry. How could he leave little pieces of himself behind and think that you could move on with your life.

It was all because you were with another man. He never said all these things when you were alone and you suffered from depression. There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed to get your kids ready for school. You knew that Jace had informed him because he was really worried about you and he always shared his troubling thoughts with Chris. But he didn’t do anything about it. He stayed quiet and you had to pull all the pieces back together yourself. It was all tape and glue. Your ex husband didn’t get to come back and dismantle your progress. You wouldn’t let him.

“You can’t do this. Can’t come back. I am with Tom now so stop trying to fix things that you already broke.” Your face was red with anger and all the energy was drained out of your body.

“Please, just give me a chance.”

“No!” You couldn’t choose Chris again. You had to choose yourself. You chose to think about your needs and your feelings for the first time in seven years. That’s why you agreed to go on a date with Tom. He surpassed your expectations the first time and you knew that he could be your partner. No one could compare to Chris but Tom made his own place in your heart and you were glad about it. You continued on, “Tom is good for me so please don’t ruin my happiness again.”

Tom was great. He was good with the kids and he was slowly becoming an integral part of your life. You still missed Chris because that man was the love of your life for seven years and those feelings can’t just disappear with a single piece of paper. You were glad to have Tom in your life and you knew that as time would pass, you will love him with your whole heart. However, a small part of you would never forget Chris and would always wonder about the what ifs. What if you were still together? What if you had more children? What it you got to grow old together? Broken dreams are what hurts the most.

“I don’t want to be a cause of that. Not again. But I want to make things right.” He unintentionally came closer to you, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Sorry I wasn’t there for our kids. Sorry that I broke you, baby.”

“A sorry doesn’t fix anything.” His chest was hallowing from inside out but he didn’t want to back down. Not now. Not ever.

“Just answer one question for me. Are you truly happy?” A tremble was prominent in his voice but you tried to ignore it.

“I-I am. For a long time, I wasn’t but I am now.” You spoke with such conviction that he knew you were over him.

You would always love Chris but now it was time for you to move on with your life. It was time to leave the past and delve into the future. Chris would always own a piece of your heart but you are going to allow Tom to have an opportunity as well. You will open your heart again to love. You were sure now.

“Okay. I will get the kids for you.” He backed off like he promised he would. You knew at that moment that it was all over.

Watching you drive away with his kids was heart breaking for him and he just watched helplessly. Chris still wanted to cry, beg and apologize. He wanted you to take him back but it was all his fault. He ruined you once, he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t interrupt your new life. It doesn’t all revolve around him but he was okay to remain on the sidelines while you enjoy your life. He will be there for you if you needed him.

You are happy and that should be enough for him but he wants to be selfish again. He wants to fight for you but it’s all too late. You were with someone else. He lost his chance.

Wednesday rolled in pretty quickly and Chris dreaded going to the match. You were going to be there with your new boyfriend but he didn’t want to miss his son’s game. He could only be there till half time already so it wouldn’t be that awkward.

“I just wanted to be here for Jace. Won’t cause any problems.” Chris took a seat beside Mia when he saw you shifting uncomfortably. The seat that should have belonged to him was currently being occupied by your boyfriend but Chris just bottled up all his feelings. It was not right to still think of you as his wife.

“It’s okay. Let’s just forget about everything.” You wanted to move on and did not want anything to hold you back.

“Okay. Mia, you want Kit Kat?” Offering her a large chocolate bar, he started talking with his daughter so that he could distract himself from you and Tom.

“What is happening, love?” Tom questioned when he saw that his former co-star did not even glance at him properly.

Chris and Tom were not the best of buds but they were still good acquaintances. He thought that dating you wouldn’t be a problem because Scarlett had informed him that Chris was the one who asked for divorce. However, this situation made him realize that Chris was jealous. He still had feelings for you and Tom didn’t know how to react to that.

“Nothing of importance. Let’s just focus on my baby boy.” Saying that, you cheered for Jace as he made his first goal. He was an exceptional player like his father and you knew that he would pursue football as his career. Jace was really passionate about football. If Chris didn’t become an actor then he would have definitely tried out for football.

There were times when he used to take you to the park so you would play with him. It was your thing. Maybe he had replaced you with someone by now as well but what you didn’t know was that Chris had stopped playing football altogether. Like many things in his life, it reminded him of you and it was just too much to bear.

“You are doing great, buddy.”Jace immediately asked Chris to pick him up as you gave him his Captain America water bottle. It was half time and Chris had to leave for shooting. He was getting late but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“Thank you, mommy. Ollie doesn’t listen to me that much so coach is angry at him.” Babbling on, he rested his head on his father’s shoulder.

“Okay, buddy. I have to leave now but I will call you when your game is finished.”

“Won’t be going with us to Chick-fil-A?”

“Uhh-” He cluelessly glanced at you because he didn’t know what his son was talking about.

“I wanted to give him a treat after the match.” Tom butted into the conversation to prove that he was a part of the kid’s lives as well.

Chris could have actually made it to the restaurant because he would be free in an hour tops. However, he decided against it. He had to take a step back for you. Of course, he would be there for his children but Tom should be given a fair chance as well.

“I won’t be able to make it buddy. You enjoy with Mommy and Tom. I’ll take you and Mia to Disneyland this weekend as I promised.”

“Okay, daddy. Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.” Giving him to you, he turned to leave. It was hard for him to do this but it had to be done. Chris wiped his eyes discreetly as he saw you all laughing together. This was his fault and he would have to bear the consequences.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: This story had me in tears from the very start. I cried when I was writing it. Again, I am open to blurbs for this series and other requests. Tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @iguessweallcrazyithinktho, @jessyballet, @caanyoonmoon, @coldmuffinpartycloud, @marvelfansworld, @agnesk, @lauracontisstuff, @deepintothenature, @xcaptain-winterx, @nostxlgia18, @sophiaedits , @luckyladycreator2, @mrspeacem1nusone

Like, comment and reblog.

P.S. If you want blurbs and epilogue related to this series, please send in requests. I will need some ideas.

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[psychovigilantewrites]

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

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

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

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

Jason scoffed at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

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

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

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

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

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

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

Jason rolled his eyes.

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

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

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

He found that adorable.

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

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

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

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever.”

***

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

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

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

He frowned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

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

Dick let out a loud groan.

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

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

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

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

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

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

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

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

It was the first time you smiled at him.

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

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

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

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

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

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

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

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason frowned to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

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

Yet, he really wanted to know.

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

But he never got to it.

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

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

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

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

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

Your hair was long now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you want to find me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

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

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

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

Shit.

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

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

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

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

Jason remained silent in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

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

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

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

Fuck, he remembered.

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

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

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

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

You finally looked at him.

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

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

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

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

“Favour?”

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

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

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

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

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

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

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

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

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

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

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

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

Jason was taken aback.

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

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

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

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

You strutted away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As expected, you let go of him.

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

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

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

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

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

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

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

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

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

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

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

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

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

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

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

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

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

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

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

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

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

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

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

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

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

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

And you gave him a wicked grin.

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

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

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

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

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

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

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

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

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

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

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

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

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

“And?” Bruce questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now, he let his thoughts free.

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

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

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

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

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

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

But you were still sixteen.

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

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

Try not to lick. R.

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

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

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

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

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

Or did he?

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

He swallowed hard.

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

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

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

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

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

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

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

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

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

He glanced at the gun next to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

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

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

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about Roy?”

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

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

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

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

“His type?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

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

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

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

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

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

“A chance for what?” he grit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

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

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

“I mean-”

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

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

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

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

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

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

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

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

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

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

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

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

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

“Roy,” Jason growled.

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

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

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

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

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

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He slammed the door shut behind him.

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

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

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

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

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

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

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

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

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

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

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

Your expression softened at that.

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

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You wish,” he said coldly.

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

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

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

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

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

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

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

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

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

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

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

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

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

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

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

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

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

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

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

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

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another round of claps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

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

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

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

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

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

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

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

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

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

He turned around to face you.

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

You faced him with curious eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Jason.”

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

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

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“What? How so?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

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

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

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

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

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

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

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

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

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

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

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

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

And then you bit down hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Point taken, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Long gone,” you winked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

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

“Any- I don’t care-”

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

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

It was all he could say.

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

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

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

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

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

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

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

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

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

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

“What?”

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

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

[giorno-plays-piano]

Okay but what about Orc!bucky and Goddess!reader ..😳🤭 Shes an Aphrodite, I can imagine her looking down and seeing orc!bucky and just craving him. They be a great power couple ...

Hi hun! I'm sorry it took me so much time to write this fic, and, well, since most of us already have some depiction of Aphrodite in mind, I decided to make the reader her daughter. Guess the story turned out something very different from what you wanted, but I still hope you will enjoy it!

Somebody to Die For

Pairing: orc!Bucky x goddess!Reader

Warnings: violence, injuries, angst, hurt/comfort.

Words: 2385.

____________________

"I will fight for you till they cut off my arms, my legs, and my head."

You looked at the warrior in front of you, his heavy body clad in armor, his arms holding a spear and a shield you brought to him yourself, earning a slap from your mother, the goddess of beauty who forbid you to help humans so shamelessly, and yet, you always did.

The man standing in front of you was neither orc nor human but the descendant of the both of them, the only hero who could possibly defeat the evil forces when every other man had failed. He's rough; he's rude; he knew little of honor, but he's the one who still fought when the ones before him had long given up. Despite the prejudice against orcs, now even humans understood he was their only salvation.

You hoped he would survive the last battle. Not just because you needed the human kind to have a savior, a leader, the one who would aid them when nobody else would, but because you had grown found of him, the man you had been guiding for years, helping him to protect those who detested him, bringing him hope when he was ready to give up, embracing him when he no longer had the power to hold his spear. A daughter of the goddess of beauty, you were to bring this beauty to the parts of the world where your tired mother could not, but you brought hope instead.

"Fight for me, and if you win, I will fulfill your wish, soldier." You whispered through your golden mask that covered your face entirely, only your eyes visible to the orc standing on his knees.

Your mother never approved of it, but you had seen people going mad from having just one glance at you, your immense beauty blinding them, driving them insane, making them forgot who they were. It was a curse, not a blessing. It was the reason you wore your mask at all times, only showing your face to those your deemed worthy, strong enough to withstand the charms you had no control over.

You knew your hero wanted to see your face more than anything else in the world.

"I will bring you the demon's head on a golden plate, my goddess."

You'd chuckle at his attempt to please you, but you were scared, you feared he would fail, fall, die in the hands of evil forces feasting upon human kind and threatening to destroy all the gods had created. You could not fight along him, possessing no skills to win that battle; moreover, your mother would most certainly kill you if you intervened, breaking the oath you had given to her. You could only help the hero you had chosen while staying in the shadow.

"Stay alive, Bucky." Those were your last words when you pressed the cold lips of your mask to the orc's forehead, giving him your blessing and hiding the tears behind the cold metal.

If only you could fight, but your hands grew cold every time you touched the hero's spear, unable to wield a sword or a mace. The war was not your domain, all the gods kept telling you when you plead them to gift you enough strength and courage to engage in battle. No, your fate was to shine like a golden statue, blinding all those who dared to look at you, bending them to your will like you mother had always done. They couldn't understand your ardent desire to watch over the humankind and all those who needed your help, spending your time healing soldiers, aiding orphans and the elderly, bringing food and water to all those in need. The gods cared little for mortals. Even when the Great Evil appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc on the lands belonging to people constantly praying for gods mercy, the immortals were too busy with their own affairs, realizing how serious the matter was when it had been too late.

When the orc you clad in charmed armor stood in front of the army of the undead, the diabolical creatures with horns and gaunt wings growling behind them, ready to strike, you prayed for him to come out of the battle alive. It was his fate to be the last hero standing between the chaos and all what was dear to the living, yet he bore no responsibility for it - he didn't ask to be the hero, to fight when his spear was long broken, go forward while the undead broke his bones and demons feasted upon his flesh, ripping pieces of meat before the orc could crush their heads with his mere hands. You kept casting spells to aid him, knowing your mother would whip you, but you didn't care, healing your hero's wounds so he could fight until he would cut off the head of the Demon King with his own sword.

Your hero was laying on top of demon's dead body, still holding the head even while unconscious as you sneaked into the field full of corpses, bodies of demons and bones of the undead rotting under the blazing sun. Your hero was dying from his wounds, bleeding so much his skin was loosing its color, and now it was your time to bring him back to the living before it was too late.

Oh, you knew your mother could kill you for stealing the salve meant only for gods to heal their wounds, but you no longer cared. What did it matter if the one who saved you all was to pay with his life for everything he had done to protect the living? No, it was unfair. The orc stood to gain nothing from his heroic deeds, gods being too arrogant to acknowledge him properly, but he had the right to keep his life.

And so you carried his heavy body to the springs, washing his wounds, applying the salve generously and casting as much healing spells as you did in your entire life to keep him alive, praying and hoping the gods would take mercy on him. Yes, he was three quarters an orc; he was barbaric, savage, ferocious, but he had kindness in his heart like no other, agreeing to fight for humans who had always utterly despised him. Despite being a brute, he was kind to children, women and elderly people. He had never lay his hand on those weaker than him, except when they attacked him on their own. In the end, he was the only hero who answered your call when all those you had asked for help died on the battlefield, unable to fight the demons and their army of corpses.

It had been three days and three nights you spent tending to his wounds until his heart started beating like of a living being. You cried your eyes out when you heard it. The salve had finally worked, and the open wounds closed, leaving his body scarred but healed; his breath steadied, and soon your hero would come back to you, you knew. Gods had answered your prayers for the first time.

"Am I dead?" Bucky asked you when he opened his eyes on the fourth day as he saw you tired face, your mask long abandoned the moment you brought him to the springs.

You smiled at him and held him close, his head laying on your lap while you witnessed his awakening, his body covered in salve, making his skin shine like pure gold.

"You are alive and well." leaning to him, you left a kiss on his forehead, brushing his dark disheveled hair out of his face, and the orc made an odd sound as if he were purring like a giant cat. "You will live a long life, cherished and honored by those you protected, I promise you."

"Will you keep that one promise you gave me, my goddess?"

He's impatient, he had always been, and you laughed at his eagerness, knowing his body still hurt, but the orc didn't seem to mind it. Was he unhappy with seeing your face? You didn't think so, and yet, apparently, he wanted something else. Gold? Women? Immortality? The last one would be quite hard, that is if gods wouldn't struck you with a lightning or something just to teach you a lesson to be more pliant and respectful.

"What it is that you want, my warrior? I will do whatever you ask me to if it is within my powers, just like I promised."

"It's within your powers, I'm sure." He grumbled, making you laugh even harder at his unusual grumpiness, touching the tips of his tusks, and the orc laughed at you, too.

"What is it, then? Don't keep me waiting, mortal, for even I grew tired of tending to you over four days." Winking at him in the most frivolous manner just like your mother had taught you, you giggled then, and the hero's face lightened up.

"This is not how I imagined it to be, but who cares, anyway." he muttered to himself and sat up, turning to you and hurriedly searching the pockets of his torn pants, obviously empty after his long, intense battle. "Shit! I've brought you golden rings and necklaces and bracelets, but those flying bitches made holes in my clothes. I should have hidden my gifts under some rock before the battle."

"Oh, you should have!"

He's impossible, you thought as you both snickered, his huge, calloused hands touching gentle yours. He brought you gold? What for?

"Well, whatever, I'll find more for you later if you don't mind, goddess. Will you give me the honor of becoming my wife even if I didn't bring you the gifts?" The orc tilted his head to the side, looking at you as if it were just a mere matter of something minor, unimportant, but soon, as he watched you openly gape at him for his audacity, he quickly bowed his head, kneeling in front of you.

You were speechless. For once, you had never for once suspected of the hero having these feelings for you. Surely, he prayed to you, he respected you as a mortal should respect their deity, he was intrigued by your true appearance you had concealed from him, but his spoke of marriage seemed preposterous. Was it your face again, your mother's charms? No, no, it couldn’t have been it for the hero intended to bring you gifts, wedding gifts, that is. He had come prepared.

Unbelievable. Did his feelings grow while he didn't even know how you looked?

"Forgive me my insolence, goddess." he mumbled, realizing his offer could be a grave offense to you, a being standing way higher than him. "But I can serve you till the end of my days, do whatever you tell me to. If I have survived the last battle and brought people salvation they wanted, I must be good enough, right?"

"Will you serve me even if I am not your wife?" You asked him quietly, looking at your hands covered in the balm you stole from the gods just to heal his wounds, knowing you were attracted to him despite your feelings never being voiced.

For a couple of seconds the orc grew silent, watching the carpet you put him on to tend to his wounds: it had been soaked in his blood that now dried out.

"I will serve you even then." He uttered grimly, refusing to look you in the eyes, his gaze on your hands as he kept sitting in front of you.

Afraid to speak, you fell silent too, wishing to touch him, brush your hand against his disheveled hair. Oh, didn't you want him? Didn't you wish to be embraced by the very hero you spent years guiding and healing so he would continue his journey? Didn't you deserve to be loved, the daughter of the goddess of that very same love you'd been craving for so long?

But your hero was a mortal. You were frightened to even think what gods would do to him for his impertinence.

Oh, evil gods. You spent years to teach and guide the mortal hero they despised who brought the salvation to the lands they were so afraid to lose, and yet neither him nor you were given anything in return. Instead, they were granting you a torture of refusing advances of the only one dear to you.

Please, darling.

Your mother's irritated voice cut through the silence like a knife, and you froze, knowing she was rolling her eyes at you, watching you secretly like she often did.

You have a heart of stone if you reject the man who is standing on his knees in front of you. I grant you my permission if you so need it.

As her mighty voice rang in the complete silence of a cave, Bucky shivered, immediately getting on his feet. Of course, he knew nothing of your mother except that she was a goddess, and he had never heard her voice. It didn't matter to you, though, as you stared at him, dumbfounded.

Permission. She granted you her permission to marry him. You were free to act as you like, knowing the gods wouldn't bring their wrath upon your hero.

"I will have you if you promise to love and cherish me like no other, protect me, and be loyal to me until your last breath." You whispered, your eyes full of tears as you watched him from below while he towered above you, and the next second he was on his knees again, taking your arms in his and kissing your tears away.

"Even if my face will be disfigured, my tongue cut off, and my body dismembered, I will love you till my last breath." his voice was so quiet, yet you heard him as if he were screaming at the top of his voice. "I promise to worship you and come to you aid whenever you need me."

Hurriedly ripping a piece of his ragged, soaked in blood clothes, he wrapped it around your finger like it was a ring he had lost.

"My soul, my heart, and my sword - everything I possess I give to you."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @iheartsebandchris

[raibebe]

Make your night

Genre: smut Words: 1.705 Prompt: soft dom Jaemin x female reader Warnings: fingering, lots of dirty talk, unsafe sex

A/N: Indrani I hope you know this is your fault. @ncteaxhoe Title is courtesy of our groupchat with @sly-merlin​ fittingly titled: “useless homo sapiens”

“Hey princess,” Jaemin rasped as he climbed into your bed, his strong arms immediately embracing you so your back was pressed to his strong chest and tangling your legs together. “You’re so late,” you mumbled, your mind already halfway into dreamland as you relaxed into his embrace, “I didn’t think you’d still come.” “I promised,” he just hummed, peppering little kisses over the skin of your neck and jaw, lazy and open mouthed. “I missed you,” you sighed as you leaned your head back to give your boyfriend more access to your neck where his hickeys had already started to fade.

“What did you miss, doll?” He breathed into your skin, his hands wandering beneath the big shirt you wore to bed that actually belonged to him. “Missed your kisses, Nana,” you whined, already getting worked up just from the proximity to him, the intoxicating smell of his perfume and the way his hands spanned over your body, teasing all the right places but not enough. “My kisses?” He chuckled before attaching his lips to a faded love bite on your jaw to work the skin until he pulled blood to the surface again, the pain making you gasp out. Almost apologetically Jaemin pressed a sweet kiss to the abused skin when he was satisfied with his work, letting his lips linger just a little longer.

“What else princess? What else did you miss?” His voice had become impossibly darker and even more raspy than before and you couldn’t hold back the moan that spilled past your lips and pressed your body back against his, glad to feel that he seemed just as worked up as you were even if he had the self control to hold himself back that you lacked. “Missed this, Nana.” “This?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper as he gently pulled your earlobe between his teeth before he ground his hips against your ass so you could feel his hard length through his boxers against your bare ass. Moaning loudly, you nodded your head. “Or this?” He asked again, letting his hands reach further beneath the fabric of your shirt to grope your boobs, firmly squeezing the soft flesh and working your sensitive nipples between his fingers. “All of it,” you choked out, arching your body into his touch. “Missed my fingers?” “Missed your fingers so much Nana,” you whined when he accentuated his words by pinching your nipple between two of his fingers, “I want them so bad.”

“My fingers?” Jaemin chuckled, “Where do you want them?” In lieu of an answer you just let your legs fall open and hooked one of them over his, suppressing the shiver that went through you when you exposed your core. Understanding you without words, he let his hands travel south, stopping just below your navel. “No underwear?” He chuckled, letting his hands roam over your bare hips. “No,” you breathed, shivering beneath his teasing fingers that never dared to dip lower than what was considered appropriate. “I need you to say it, doll.” “Please Nana,” you whined, squirming to get your point across instead. “Say it and I’ll give you anything you want,” he promised darkly, grinding his hips against your ass to remind you of what was to come if you were good and followed his wishes. “Want them... Want them inside me, Nana please.”

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pressing a kiss to the dark marks he left there before he easily let his fingers dip between your thighs to coat them in your arousal, “Such a good girl for me.” And because you were his good girl, he didn’t waste more time to slip two of his fingers into you right until the last knuckle. “Nana~” you moaned loudly, throwing your head back onto his shoulder so you could see at least a little of the spark in his dark eyes. With a grin on his face, he moved his fingers inside you, barely pulling them out to instead massage your walls, just barely missing your sweet spot when you knew he was very much able to find it blindly. It drove you insane. “Nana please,” you hiccupped. “Is this not enough for my princess?” “No,” you whined, moving your hips against him to both try to rub your ass against his length that was still just resting between your asscheeks and to finally get his fingers to hit your sweet spot.

“You want to do it yourself again? I know you touched yourself while I was gone.” As soon as the words had left his lips, you went absolutely still in his hold, causing him to chuckle. “I’m not mad,” he promised, pulling his fingers out to rub them around your swollen clit instead, sending sparks of pleasure through you, “But you have to tell me about it, doll. I want to hear it.” Your answer got stuck in your throat when Jaemin suddenly sped up his fingers, rubbing your clit so harshly, it tore a scream from your lips and made your legs close on instinct. “Tell me baby. How did you do it?” He groaned, now grinding his cock against you slowly and slowing his fingers down so you could actually formulate words. “I- My fingers,” you confessed, heat rising to your face. “But they weren’t as good as mine right?” He asked and as if to prove his point, he slipped them back into you, now hitting your sweet spot dead on, making you mewl in pleasure and thrash in his hold.

“N-No,” you choked out, “Then I- My pink dildo.” “Oooh baby,” Jaemin moaned filthily, “The pretty sparkly one I got you?” “Yeah,” you nodded, desperately trying to hold onto your thoughts as you fell apart by just his fingers. “What did you do with it?” “I- On my back, fucked myself with it.” “Such a naughty girl.” “Wished it was your cock, Nana. I wanted your cock so bad.”

“My cock?” He asked, fumbling around behind you to pull said cock free and slipped it between your legs, teasing your wet folds with it and slapping the reddened head against your swollen clit. “Please Nana,” you mewled. “Did you think about me when you fucked yourself with the dildo, doll? Thought about me when you came?” “Yes, Nana. Thought about how good you would fuck me, about your cock filling me up just right, about-“ Jaemin didn’t let you finish as he chose that moment to fuck into you in one smooth thrust, pushing all air from your lungs.

“Like this?” He groaned, winding his arms around you tightly to press you further against his chest. “So good Nana,” you sighed, letting your body go lax in his hold. “Yeah? You like that?” Jaemin moaned, slowly pulling his hips back until the head dared to slip out again, just to fuck back into you fast and hard. “Please fuck me Nana,” you mewled. “What baby wants - baby gets,” he chuckled, snapping his hips in earnest now. Knowing that Jaemin liked to hear how good he made you feel, you didn’t hold back your moans and high pitched sounds when he managed to hit that special spot inside you that made you see stars. The angle wasn’t perfect by any means but the friction and the way he had essentially restricted all your movements drove you insane. You could just lay there and had to take his long and deep thrusts, the sound of skin hitting skin resounding in your bedroom mixing with your moans and his deep grunts.  

When he hooked your leg over his elbow and thrust back into you harder than before, every coherent thought that was left in your brain got fucked right out of you as the change of angle helped him to hit your sweet spot dead on, making you moan his name louder. “So good for me,” Jaemin groaned, panting into your neck as he picked up the pace to snap his hips in a punishing rhythm, relishing in the lewd noises you let out and the wet sounds of your pussy. “So close Nana,” you warned him when you felt the knot in your stomach tighten but instead of slowing down to draw out your pleasure like he usually did, his grip on you turned almost bruising. “Cum for me pretty princess. I want you to cum on my cock,” he moaned, filth dripping from his lips like honey, lulling your mind in a cloud of pleasure until all that you felt, heard and could think of was Jaemin as you came with his name on your lips so hard your vision went black for a second. In the back of your mind you heard him curse as his hips stuttered into you a couple of more times before he buried himself to the hilt to fill you up with his cum.

For what might have been just seconds or minutes but felt like hours, you two just laid there, trying to regulate your breathing and to stop the twitching and shaking of your thighs. “You did so well princess,” Jaemin praised, pressing lingering kisses to each knob of your spine he could reach. “Don’t pull out yet,” you mumbled when you felt him pull back, blindly reaching behind you until he caught your hand and interlaced your fingers so you could bring them around you again, cuddling up against his chest. “Let me clean you up, baby,” he chuckled but buried his head in your neck anyways. “Just five minutes,” you slurred your words, intentionally clenching down on his softening cock to make him hiss in overstimulation. “You’re playing unfair,” he complained. “Please Jaemin.” “Who’s this Jaemin dude any why are you calling his name when we’re in bed together?” He grumbled, playfully biting into your shoulder. “Nana,” you gasped, turning around as much as your position let you to finally take a proper look at him: His dark hair was unkept but his eyes sparkled even in the darkness of your room. “I didn’t even get a welcome back kiss,” he pouted. “Welcome back Nana,” you smiled, molding your lips together in a lazy kiss that you wished could last forever.

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Congrats on 4K bbe! You deserve ALL the love and support! Your writing is👌 I unfortunately missed your 1k so can I please have Isaac Foster NSFW alphabet? Thank you sooo much❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much bby. 🥺❤️ I’m always happy to write for this maniac. I hope you enjoy them. 👏

Event Masterlist

NSFW Below 👇

A (Aftercare)

Zack might not seem like the most lovey of people, but that’s where you’d be wrong. If there’s anything that Zack Foster loves after a roll in the hay it’s cuddling after. This man makes sure that you’re comfortable and doesn’t ever want to let go of you. No matter how rough the two of you might get, he wants to make sure that you’re in his arms when it’s all said and done.

B (Body Part)

His favorite part of your body is going to be your ass. Isaac Foster is an ass man, there’s no denying that at all. He loves the way it looks when it walks in front of him or the way it looks as he’s pounding himself into you from behind. And don’t think you’re getting past this man without a firm smack to it nearly every time.

C (Cum)

If there’s one thing that Isaac Foster has a lot of... it’s cum. This man’s favorite place to put it is right on your chest. He absolutely loves the way that you look with his seed all over you. And it’s even better for him if some makes it to your face. 

D (Dirty Secret)

Zack isn’t one for secrets, you’ll know pretty much everything about him. The dirtiest secret this man has is probably the fact that he’s nearly always picturing you naked. He was locked up in that building for so long without seeing someone of the opposite sex that it’s just a habit for him now.  

E (Experience)

If experience is a deal breaker for you than Zack is not the guy. This man is pretty much a newbie when you meet him. He’s never really gotten any experience with anything but his hand. If you’re looking for a wild night right from the start then you’ve got another thing coming. He’s gonna need some time to get the hang of things first. 

F (Favorite Position)

With his almost animalistic side Zack much prefers doggy style. He loves to be able to run his hands down your back and grip your hair. It gives him perfect leverage to reach down and tease you a little bit while he ruthlessly rolls his hips into you. He loves the way it looks when he wraps his hand around your throat and pulls you up against him, pressing your body to his chest. 

G (Goofy)

Zack is most definitely not a goofy guy in bed. He’s got one goal and one goal only... getting the two of you to your release. He’ll focus more on making sure that you get your world rocked, but don’t think he wont go back to himself once he gets you there. 

H (Hair)

Isaac Foster is not much of a groomer. When he was trapped in that building he never really had any means of making sure that happened so he’s now used to that. He wouldn’t object to it if you were to mention it to him, but he’s most definitely not going to take that upon himself. 

I (Intimacy)

Once Zack gets used to a person and really starts to fall head over heels he’s going to be a very intimate person in bed. He’ll want to make sure that he tells you a thousand times that he loves you or how beautiful you look while you get your insides rearranged. He’s never one to keep the compliments away while you’re in private. 

J (Jack Off)

Before he met you the only thing that this man had to do in his lonesome was jack off. He would multiple times a day just to pass the time. So when you meet him, he’s definitely got control on how long he’s going to last in a round. He’s not going to be able to break that habit easily either, so every chance that he gets when you leave he’ll probably have his hand wrapped around it. 

K (Kink)

If you weren’t aware, Isaac Foster has a fascination with knives and sharp things. Don’t think for a second that it isn’t going to transfer into his sexual life. This man loves the way you look as he slowly slides the knife across your skin, the cool metal causing shivers to run through your whole body. He’d never actually harm you with them, just likes the way you squirm when he plays around with them. 

L (Location)

This man’s libido is out of control. There’s no place that he wont have a little fun with you. It doesn’t matter where you are, if he’s got the urge he’s going to pull you aside and fuck you against a wall. He’s very fond of finding a secluded place where there’s a chance of getting caught. He wants the whole world to know who you belong to. 

M (Motivation)

It doesn’t take much to get him going, but if you really want to do it in as little time as possible than the best way to do that is by wearing tight pants around him. He’s a sucker for the way they accent all your curves. He’ll want to maul you in an instance. 

N (No)

The only thing that Zack will probably say no to, is anything that involves him being the one being penetrated. He’s pretty open about the rest of the sexual world. He’s willing to try anything once and he’ll be sure to tell you how he feels about it after. And the thing you want to avoid that will turn him off is when you complain too much. He’s definitely not a fan of that. He knows that life is rough, but he can’t help but think of that things that he’s gone through in his life and compare them. 

O (Oral)

Once he gets the hang of it, Zack is going to be a very big fan of both giving and receiving oral. He loves the way that you look with your head between his legs and he loves to watch you squirm with your ass in the air as he licks your core, hitting all the right places. 

P (Pace)

There’s one thing that Isaac Foster is not good at, and that’s doing anything slow. He loves to watch you writhing underneath him as he ignores all your pleas to slow down. He might be quick, but he’s always sensual at the same time. He wants you to know that he loves and appreciates you at the same time as he gives you the ride of your life. 

Q (Quickie)

Zack is a huge fan of the quickie. If you let him get quickies in throughout the day that just means less time he has to spend with his cock in his hand. Once he gets that urge he’s got to satisfy it, whether it’s by himself or with you. It’s happening and he’s got no control over it. 

R (Risk)

He’s pretty experimental when it comes down to it. There’s very little that Zack wont try and he’s not against being in public either. He hasn’t found much in his sexual life that he’s not alright with, even if that only means doing something once in a while. 

S (Stamina)

I really hope that you’re prepared if you’re deciding to be with this man. He can go all night and last for what seems like forever. He’s trained himself to last longer than you’d expect. He wants to make sure you’ve come a couple of times before he even decides that he’s done. His control over that is incredible. 

T (Toys)

Zack doesn’t own any toys himself, but he’s not against using any toys on you. He loves to watch as you come undone under your own toys, whether he’s the one in control of it, or you are. Just picture him licking his lips as he hovers over you, slowly pulling your toy in an out of you as you attempt to cover you face from him, the pure pleasure almost too much. 

U (Unfair)

Zack loves to tease, but hates when it happens to him. He gets enough urges on his own, the last thing that he wants is someone else coming in and making them one hundred times worse. But he’s definitely always happy to tease you and see if he can get you going. He loves when you beg him. 

V (Volume)

If you’re looking for a quiet partner than I think you need to look somewhere else. Zack never had a need to keep himself quiet when he was by himself, and he isn’t going to start now. Whether it’s grunts and groans coming from him or him asking you to be louder, it will never be silent in his bedroom. He loves to hear you and he loves to have you hear just how good you’re making him feel. 

W (Wild Card)

Zack will never admit it to you, but he’s glad that if he were to meet anyone to learn all these experiences with... it’s you. And he knows that he plays it up sometimes when he’s acting clueless, but he’s not as clueless in certain departments as you think he is. 

X (X-Ray)

As surprising as it will be to you, Zack is packing some heat. He’s long and wide and he knows how to use it. He loves when you comment on that fact, it’ll make him crawl in his skin with anticipation, or it will get him that much closer to his release. 

Y (Yearning)

This mans libido is out of this world. He basically wants it 24/7, so don’t think for a second that if you ask he’ll say no. I don’t think he’s ever had a time in his life where he would say no. He’s always happy to oblige, especially to his woman. 

Z (Zzz)

Zack has a lot of issues with sleep so sex before bed is a surefire way to get him to sleep. He usually falls asleep very shortly after a round in the sack. Either it takes away his stress, or just gives him that little boost of serotonin that he needs to get his mind to stop racing. 

Taglist: @monic00l @strangeinternetwasteland @rowley-with-ackerman @chaoticsimptown @ellechanwrites @bonnisimpparker @impinthecloset

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE NINE || SMALL FLY AND REVERSE RETRIBUTION

↳ featuring : gojo satoru + ieiri shoko (mentions of fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + zenin maki + nanami kento) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of corpse + mention of blood + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 09 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.4k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : boredom

↳ next episode : idle transfiguration 

↳ barista’s notes : hi there everyone! right now i know i haven’t been the most active i have been but i really thankful on how patient you all are ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ once again, thank you all for the birthday messages you have given me and the love that you all have for Y/N, i’m really glad that you love her character ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ i hope you enjoy today’s episode even though it isn’t that interesting at all to be honest...

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“At this point, I’m not going to get any sleep if I keep doing this,” you mumbled quietly to yourself, as you leisurely walked down the stone steps that lead to the familiar track field you had been going to for the past few weeks for training due to the up and coming Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

Currently, there was nothing more than a few mild wind breezes as well as the brightness from the moon keeping you company as you decided to come out of your room for the night - how many times have you done this? You wouldn’t even know the answer yourself, you just let yourself go outside to get some fresh air.

Finally reaching to the bottom of the steps, you casually made your way to the tree you always sat under during training with your classmates and second-year upper-classmen before taking off your black longline coat to place it on the ground like a cover as you processed to sit before laying right on top of it leading your view to change from the field to the sky that was slightly shielding by the branch and leaves from the trees.

“What...am I even doing here?” you questioned yourself while raising your arm slightly above your face as you stared at your hand absently like the answer you were looking for was at the back of your hand.

From what you have learnt at being at Jujutsu Tech for some time, you learnt that everyone had a purpose of being at the institution that you were currently residing in now. 

Everyone you have met and knew here at this moment in time had a purpose or a goal of being a jujutsu sorcerer.

What about you?

Fushiguro thought the world was unfair and the reasoning behind his reasoning of becoming a sorcerer was to be a tool within a system that ensured kind people were given more chances in living. However, unlike you, you weren’t really fond of his reasoning at all. 

What happens if those ‘good’ people you saved become the criminal you refused to save? What happens if those ‘good’ people you deemed ‘good’ become the most immoral and sinful person you ever encountered? What happens if those ‘good’ people you save that smiled at your actions for them lead that smile to fade?

Like you mentioned, you weren’t fond of his reasoning at all. There were too many risks.

Kugisaki's reasoning was humorous as she wanted to move out of the countryside without any worries of financial issues but you knew somewhere in your heart that there was another reason she wasn’t telling you when you asked her during your usual weekend shopping trip with her. On the other hand, you admired her in some way, she was the personification of not needing to choose between strength and beauty.

However, that wasn’t the answer you weren’t looking for at all.

Zenin (Maki) wanted to escape the ties of the Zenin clan due to her situation of not being able to possess any kind of cursed energy compared to the averaged sorcerer, yet with the heavenly restriction that was traded with the lack of cursed energy, she processed superhuman physical prowess that was more powerful than most sorcerers you come to know. 

Her reasoning? To become the head of the Zenin clan to irritate the other members.

When she mentioned her ambition to you, you were quite sceptical in the beginning but that slowly diminished once you saw the cheeky grin on her face, you soon came to realise that she wasn’t like any of them from whom you could recall due to your mother’s knowledge of them when she was still alive. Zenin was extremely strong-headed and straightforward which led to her motivation causing your respect for her to slowly rise up as each day went by.

On the other hand, you had escaped the ties of the clans, you had that advantage ahead of her since the day you came into this world, yet that changed the second you came into school that night. That wasn’t the answer you were trying to discover.

Then there was Gojo Satoru. A man that is known to be the strongest in this generation as he processed both the Limitless technique as well as the Six Eyes after 400 years assumingly and was the lone standing member of the Gojo clan unless your adoption made a change to that to which you knew it wasn’t likely at all.

To be honest, Gojo never told you his reasoning on becoming a sorcerer and it must be said that he didn’t really have a choice, to begin with. He was immediately placed into this world as the fate of the jujutsu world was resting on his shoulders while your clan was the maintenance of that order and if anything happened to the man himself, you were the next sorcerer to restore the stability of the world.

‘Ugh, what a drag…’

Although, without his words, you could predict what he wanted. Gojo seemed like he wanted a revolution. A change and actively collecting sorcerers that had the same mindset as him was one way of beginning it. You couldn’t deny that Gojo was a smart man but one with a hint of narcissist meaning to it. 

Slowly, you come to realise that you were a tool within his plan.

Something you slowly wanted to take advantage of for the time being.

However, as much as his plan was one you were tensely going to follow, that still wasn’t the answer you desired at all.

“Because I’m not supposed to exist Fushiguro, you’re a Zenin by blood, you should know that my clan shouldn’t exist after the golden age, we disappeared,” 

“That’s right...I wasn’t supposed to exist…”

Slowly you finally placed your arm back down to your side before closing your eyes allowing the darkness to consume your sight but you didn’t allow it to consume the whole of you since you weren’t willing to fall asleep outside in the world where you felt most vulnerable.

It was quiet.

From what you could sense around you at this current moment in time, there was no one around you right now, no sound of footsteps that were out of place and no lingering sense of cursed energy around you.

You felt free.

Completely free.

Even if it was for a couple of seconds.

“You know, instead of being a drag, maybe inform that you are here,” you stated, as you opened your eyes slowly to discover a well-known face staring down at you as their body towered over yours. 

“You can sense me that quick?” Gojo asked, with a cheeky smile painted on his face as he tilted his glasses down to reveal his crystal indicolite eyes that somehow looked as if they were brighter than the moon that was above the both of you right now.

“You have an immense amount of cursed energy, it’s quite easy to sense you to be honest...too easy,” you mentioned, before turning on to your side as if to avoid eye contact with him due to the feeling of him studying you like you were s subject - it was creepy.

“If you are going to study me about my ability, just go to the library in the school to read about my clan, I’m sure that is enough,” you informed your teacher, causing him to giggle at your comment before inviting himself to sit next to you.

“Nah, I got the real thing of the lingering L/N clan here and I don’t like reading~” Gojo amusingly stated, before placing a hand on the top of your head before gently ruffling your hair. “Besides, you and I both know that something is going on right now,” Gojo seriously mentioned, causing you to become slightly tense as you began to recall the unexpected attack against him that he was hinting to you.

“Do you know any curse users that are willing to work with the two curses that you encountered?” you asked Gojo in the same serious tone he gave you only for silence to fill the atmosphere leading you to turn your head slightly to see what was wrong with your adoptive father, only to notice him staring off into the distance with a nonchalant look on his face only for it to change instant with the usual playful smile he always showcased to you.

“By the way, I told Shoko to expect you tomorrow to practice your reverse cursed energy technique,” the playful teacher stated before removing his hand from your head as he stood up on his feet. “It might be difficult for you to understand since she’s not the best at explaining, but I know you’ll get it! Get back inside and get back to sleep~” he said with a teasing tone, before making his way back into the Jujutsu Tech building, leaving you alone again with your own thoughts as you stared at the direction that he had headed off to.

“What a drag…”

                                               ꕥ

“Shoko-san?” you called out, once the metal door slid open only to discover her standing between two metal tables with what seemed to be curse corpses resting there with blood splattered messily on their resting surface.

“Oh Y/N! Satoru said you were going to come by,” Ieiri mentioned with a small smile, as she turned to look at you while tying her hair back leading you to notice the very visible purple under eye bags she had.

Ieiri Shoko was the doctor within the Jujutsu Tech institution and was one of the only people that was able to use reverse cursed technique like you but more at an advanced level leading you to mentally thank Gojo for allowing you to learn from her since you had been struggling to use it to the level that she was. Even your mother was struggling to help improve your technique since the only time you were able to use it to your full potential was when you were in critical danger.

“What’s going on?” you curiously asked as you observed the gruesome sight in front of you while trying to ignore the horrible smell that was coming from the corpses as you gently placed your hand over your nose to block the scent.

“There was been an incident in Kinema Cinema and I have been asked to check out these since one of the sorcerers that were assigned to the mission stated there was something odd about them,” Ieiri explained before handing you a black elastic band leading to a confused look to invade your face.

“And I want you to help since Saturo said you have a really good sense of seeing residue of cursed energy, as well as sense, cursed energy itself,” Ieiri informed you leading you to take the hairband from her grasp as well as the other surgical mask that was needed in case you both needed to dissect something.

“Are you sure I’m allowed to do this? I don’t have a license,” you questioned, as you placed the mask over your mouth causing Ieiri to look at you before saying to not worry since she was here - which caused you to look at her with a sceptical expression before going on to the task at hand as you stood next to her to peer over one of the deceased curses that were laying on the metal bench.

While observing the gruesome sight, you began to steadily see a trail of the lingering residue of cursed energy from the whole body, yet for some reason, there was a connection to the brain as you continued to stare that the sight much to your dismay.

“Human?” you stated in a perplexed tone while continuing to look at the head as the most amount of residue was there for the most part. “There’s a connection to the brain, so I assume the brain stems have been tampered with to alter the formation of the body, but the person wouldn’t know any of that due to probably their now impaired consciousness...it’s as if the human has been transfigured in a way like the other one behind us,” you informed Ieiri, who seemed to agree with you as she lightly nodded her head.

“Though the relationship between the brain and the cursed energy is still a black box right now, they died because of the modification and not because of the sorcerer,” the doctor added, causing you to give a side glance in her direction as you continued to listen to her explanation.

“Do you think it’s to do with the soul?” you asked, as you fully turned to look at her while she looked at you in confusion.

“Right now, we’re looking at it in a biological sense but if we are talking about a cursed spirit like Sukuna for example that is doing this, it has to do with the soul rather than the body itself,” you informed the doctor, causing her to look at you with widened eyes as she didn’t expect her old schoolmate’s daughter to have such a high capability to come to different ideas since it was Gojo that was your parent after all.

“Kento will have to ask the culprit about their cursed technique to see if your theory is correct,” Ieiri mentioned, leading you to look at her confused once again as you threw your surgical mask in the bin, only for her to swiftly inform you that a grade one sorcerer by the name of Nanami Kento was the one to inform her about the situation.

“I have to make a quick call to him to explain the discovery we made. Can you step outside and wait for me before I call you back so we can proceed to your lesson?” the doctor asked you with a smile leading you to nod at her before making your way towards the metal door that had come through before as you took one more peek at the Jujutsu Tech’s doctor’s direction with a perplexed and doubtful sense.

‘What’s the reason for me to be out of the room if I got involved with the investigation? What are you hiding from me?’

However, you didn’t want to make a whole fuss about your suspicion since you really didn’t have the effort to voice out your concern leading you to leave the room with more questions plaguing your mind as the ringing tone carried itself in the air.

“This is such a drag”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[linkspooky]

"The Only Ones the Heroes Protect Are Themselves."

is a quote given to us by Dabi. That's starting to sound more and more true after this press conference chapter. This post will be mainly talking about Hawks, because I think this chapter sheds a lot of light on Hawks' flaws as a character.

I think for understanding Hawks it's important to know this:

And this:

Are both Hawks. Hawks is both the person willing to manipulate, scheme and ruthlessly hunt down others for the sake of the greater good, and he's also the person who just wants to help because his whole life he's felt useless and unworthy. Hawks is both the overly idealistic child who believes in heroes and just wants tp help the heroes, and at the same time, the cynical adult who thinks heroes can't always save people.

Some part of Hawks is aware that this darker side of him exists. He tells the hero commission that he's willing to dirty his hands for the sake of general peace. He specifically warns the villains not to underestimate his resolve. He tells Twice that he's not the type to get tripped up by sentiment in the crucial stages of his plan.

However, at the same time Hawks doesn't cop up to this side of his personality. If you confront Hawks about his actions in any way he switches back to his hero-mode. I don't believe this is because Hawks believes himself to be a good person. I don't even think Hawks defines himself as a person to begin with, just a tool. It makes sense that Hawks doesn't have a consistent identity it all goes back to his origins.

All Hawks could do was internalize everything he felt, and every abuse hurtled at him by his parents. All he wanted to believe back then was that he wouldn't turn out the same way they did. He wanted to believe in some good part of him.

However, I wonder if Hawk truly believes he's good. If he truly believes he's a good hero. He seems to have internalized so much of his abuse when he was younger that he has little self worth and all of it, is built around what kind of things he does for other people. He has to believe he's helping other people, because otherwise he crumbles. Otherwise the part of his head that tells him he was just trash the hero council picked up on the side of the road, is right.

I'm touching upon all of this to say Hawks does not really have a sense of self-identity. It's very weak, and he bases it on things are around him instead, things he can cling to provide him some sense of self worth, his role as a hero, his pseudo-imagined relationship with Endeavor, the idea that the things he's doing is ultimately for the public good. Because he's clinging to these things it makes it almost impossible to be self-critical. Because if Hawks isn't a hero, then he's nothing. Hawks also, similarly, can't deal with any criticism to the institution of hero because that's the institution that saved him, that's where he belongs, that's where all of his personal relationships are.

Hawks previously thought everything he did was for the public good, because heroes protected the people, hero and the public were both aligned.

However, when the public they're protecting begins to question the heroes, when they're not alligned Hawks picks the heroes.

Now I'll touch on Enji briefly to give an example of why this is wrong. Enji's excuse for why he didn't do anything with Toya, why he didn't even try to be a father, was because he was a hero first before he was a person.

Both Enji and Hawks (they're meant to be read as character foils) divide their personalities this way. They are who they are as heroes, before their faults and individual failings as people. However, in reality, they're just running away from their actions. Enji is depicted entirely in shadow in these few panels, the same way Hawks is depicted in shadow when confronting Twice.

Ultimately it doesn't matter if whatever Hawks did to Twice was justified or not, the problem is he wasn't a hero to Twice. He decided in that moment Twice was not worth saving. He divided that line between who gets to get saved, and who doesn't.

What I mean when I say that Hawks is unable to cop up to the darker sides of his personality, is that he's unable to acknowledge when he's done a bad thing. Which is also, something he shares in common with Enji. Enji's failures are never personal ones, he's never the one at fault. Toya's death was what drove him to train Shoto so hard (nevermind the fact he was already doing that beforehand.) Toya attacking Shoto was the reason that Enji had to isolate Shoto (nevermind, that Toya himself a thirteen-year-old kid was able to recognize that he was wrong to blame his brother, but it's still unfair for his father to put all his attention on Shoto and leave the rest of his kids alone). Uraraka is the narrator for this chapter, but Uraraka also said this.

IThe real question is, are heroes to be held individually responsible for their actions? Can we criticize heroes as people? Hawks, Enji, and Jeanist all seem to believe that identity and world of heroes is far too important to level criticisms at any individual. That the world of heroes somehow, elevates them from others in a way that makes them impossible to understand, because they have more responsibility.

I'm not going to say Hawks doesn't feel sorry for Twice. He expressed like, the greatest possible expression of public apology he can. The problem however is everything else about Hawks. Twice apologizes for the act of killing twice and expresses it as a moral failing on his part, while stating he had no choice before that point. 

Hawks is unaware of his own personal biases, and his own flaws, and therefore properly can’t account to them. He thinks his failing was that he couldn’t convince Jin to join his side. Not that his wrongdoing was his act of choosing only Jin to save because he was one of the “good” victims, and only offering Jin the chance to atone conditional on him betraying his friends. He’s still picking and choosing between good and bad in who he helps. And Hawks’ standards for that are pretty biased. Notice how his help for Enji doesn’t involve mandatory jailtime and atonement for his crimes like it did with Twice. Enji still gets to remain a hero. 

Hawks has a bias and it goes on unacknowledged, by framing his actions as heroic and for the greater good. 

His priority isn't to make the same mistake again with Twice or even to feel bad about Twice, it's to stop public criticism. It even comes down to the way he frames his own actions, Hawk doesn't acknowledge the part of him that manipulated Twice, held him at gunpoint, forced him to choose between his friends and his own safety, cruelly taunted him. All of things which were by the way, an abuse of his power, and things Hawks did because he personally likes to feel in control of situations not because it was necessary for the greater good to break Twice mentally like that.

Hawks didn't do all those things in the Hawks vs. Twice situation, because he was forced to in a bad situation. Hawks planned the whole situation out to give himself control over the situation, and try to manipulate Twice into siding with him because he liked Twice. It's like, written in a very specific way to show how manipulative Hawks is for setting things up this way, the whole thing was a set up. However, hawks can't cop up to that. He frames it like an oopsie daisy. He frames it like something he did in the heat of the moment because he felt like he had no other choice, and not something that was pre-meditated and all set up by him beforehand. It's because, while Hawks acts like this, he never owns up to his actions, he only ever frames himself as the guy willing to sacrifice anything in order to help people. The guy determined to be helpful and useful to others. Therefore he can't find fault within himself and he can't find fault within heroes.

Even with Enji, his first response isn't, "Wow, if heroes are using their position to cover up their crimes we should investigate how other heroes might be abusing their families." It's to find a way to make Enji look good for the public, so the public gets off his back.

Uraraka says that if Toga wants to threaten people she has to live with the consequences, but the heroes aren't living with conesquences for their actions. It's not just that Hawks murdered someone. I mean after all, I argue that Toga who kills lots of people., Shigaraki who destroys whole cities, Dabi who admits to murdering 30 people, are all people who I think are going to get positive character development.

However, they all also accept that they're going to be seen as murderers. Dabi calls himself a murderer live on television. Toga accepts it, when Uraraka says that she has no choice but to put her down if she's going to hurt others. Shigaraki even holds himself responsible for the murder of his family which was a complete accident, he had to have his reluctance to hurt other people beaten out of him.

It's not that Hawks murdered a person, but rather he can kill a person and not see himself as a murderer. Just speaking in terms of character development, to have a character arc, a character must first acknowledge they are wrong, and then work to improve on that wrong. Hawks hasn't reached the first part.

Hawks and Enji are unable to admit to their personal failings, because not only do they appear to the public only as heroes, but they also think "Heroes" are like a special protected class of people. They can make up for all of their flaws by being good heroes. However, it's not the public that they're defending. Just like it's not his family that Enji is really doing all these things for. Time and time again, they choose to be heroes over everythig else, because the world of heroes is the only place they exist in. Being seen as a good hero is what validates both of them. For Hawks it comes from his own perosnal trauma and loneliness, from Enji his priority of being a good hero above everything else. So if you ewre to strip all of that away, if you were to admit, that Hawks deciding to kill Twice, that Enji abusing his family, doesn't make them very good heroes? Means they aren't entitled to being heroes anymore? What would be left of them for both of them? They'd just be left with what they've done and who they are and neither of them are or were ever very happy with themselves. Which is why, rather than trying to be better people. Trying to address the cricticisms that other people have lobbied to them, including Endeavor's own son who was personally hurt by him. It keeps coming back to being better heroes.

They're not heroes though, they're just people. Everyone is just people in the end.