#swooping in occasionally into each others' lives being like 'hey babe!' and go out for drinks

[leupagus]

Anything involving Mary meeting Ed. I am but a weak Claudia O'Doherty fan.

Inspired by this glorious artwork:

If really pressed to think on it, Doug probably would have admitted that he considered Stede Bonnet a bit mad. In a genteel sort of way, although he'd never quite understood the chatter in town about how Stede was harmless. Sometimes Doug fancied he could still feel the bite of metal against his neck, Stede hissing down at him with the blank fury of someone who could do something very rash indeed.

The first time Stede died, Doug had rather thought that Mary and the children were avoiding his name as if they might summon him back into their lives, the way his grandmother never spoke of sea-monsters while his grandfather was out on the water. Which had given Doug a rather bleak view of what kind of husband and father Stede might have been, though it turned out that their misery was more akin to a canvas stretched badly on a frame unsuited to bear its tension; you could paint what you liked on its surface, but the picture itself would never hold fast.

But when Stede had died again, riding off with nothing more than half of Alma's orange, the remains of his family mentioned him freely, even fondly; his penchant for storytelling that would often give Louis nightmares and give Alma ideas; his high clear voice that would lead them in song at church, sometimes warbling a bit to make the children giggle when the service dragged on; his fumbling kindness that they knew was borne of love, but a stifled, miserable sort that could never find the right words. A dreamer, longing for something over the horizon, but anchored to a place that he could never call home.

So, yes, a bit mad, to want to leave Mary and Alma and Louis for the sea; but Doug wanted to leave his studio and his work for Mary and Alma and Louis, so perhaps all men were mad, in the end.

Then Doug realized what madness truly looked like.

"You would think, wouldn't you," said Edward "Blackbeard" Teach, terror of the West Indies, brigand and murderer, wanted by every navy in the civilized world, "You would think that the bastard would have the, the, the guts to sit down and tell you what he's feeling, wouldn't you?" He slammed his hand on the table, making his empty glass jump and tumble sideways. “Be a bit fucking emotionally available!”

"You would!" exclaimed Mary, righting and refilling it with whatever vile liquid was in that bottle Blackbeard had brought with him. One of the bottles, at least — Blackbeard had brought a lot of bottles, when he'd washed up at the Bonnet estate a few hours ago, a muddled mess of black leather and ash and hair, demanding to be taken to Stede Bonnet's grave so he could piss on it.

"Or cry, that's still possible," he'd admitted, swaying slightly on Mary's doorstep. Doug and Mary had reached out to catch him — but Stede, hurrying up from God only knew where, had beaten them to it.

"You can cry or relieve yourself on it if you like, but I’d rather you didn’t vomit on it," he'd huffed, slinging Blackbeard's arm around his shoulder with the ease of what looked like long practice. "Mary, my apologies for this, but he really kept insisting that he'd only forgive my corpse, and I thought this might be a good compromise."

"I've done the first two myself," Mary had said, holding the door open. “Haven’t tried the vomiting, though. Might help.”

Blackbeard had squinted muzzily at her. "I love you," he said, with the air of someone making a profound discovery.

Now, Stede and Doug were banished to the parlor while Blackbeard and Mary shouted gleefully at each other in the salon, though occasionally Doug peered through the doorway to see how things were progressing. There hadn't been any talk of going out to the gravesite yet, at least, and no one had vomited or relieved themselves. There had been a bit of crying.

"I'm sure Mary's just humoring him," Doug told Stede, wondering if he should pat him on the back. Blackbeard was roaring something about Stede's huge...solutions, or something.

Stede sighed, clutching at the tray of water glasses. “No, no,” he said, “I deserve this.” And in a show of bravery fit to rival any of the stories he’d told of derring-do on the high seas, he lifted his chin and said, “Refreshments, anyone?” as he ventured into the salon.

[thesquareinthecircularhole]

hey stupid, i love you [MCYT: Dream x GN!Reader]

song: hey stupid I love you by jp saxe

warnings: fluff

im pretty sure i made this an gender neutral as possible but if there is an error lmk thanks bby :*

im in a simpin mood bby

as always, song lyrics in italics

i skipped a couple versus due to repetitiveness oops

this is the one i complained about losing, but it actually worked out bc i like this one better...less wordy

word count: ~2k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothing's wrong, and it's not what I'm used to Oh, does it surprise you too? When it's simple, is it easier than it should be?

"Hey babe, are you okay? You've been quiet today," Dream practically pouted as he asked you. He loved the sound of your voice and while you definitely weren't giving him the quiet treatment, you sure weren't as talkative as you normally are.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just distracted thinking my thoughts." You smiled at him and leaned against him. He looked down at you and pecked your lips. You gave him a sweet kiss back. The smile he gave you made your heart boom. Loving him was as easy as eating a cake (because the usually analogy 'baking a cake' isn't true, its sometimes hard to bake a cake, especially when a hungry streamer keeps trying to eat the batter or start a flour fight).

"Anyway, don't you have a stream with the Dream Team to get ready for? One that starts in," you look at the clock on your phone, "three minutes ago?" The slight panic that crosses Dream's face makes you laugh loud. He gives you another kiss and in less than five seconds has practically launched himself across the house into his recording room. Your laughter follows him the whole way, a smile and blush upon his face.

Nothing's wrong, but when you're not in my arms I send voice notes, you send hearts And get quiet, and I know that means you miss me

Okay, granted, you were the one to remind him that he was streaming with his friends today and speedrunning, but you didn't expect it to last well over five hours. At the beginning you worked on your classwork for your [college degree of choice]. You got it done quickly, as it was nearing the end of the semester and most professors of yours were laidback and wanted you to study more than write nonsense papers (fictional you, i'm so jealous). Occasionally you would jump in fear when you heard Dream shout, still not used to it after years.

After finishing your classwork, you started cooking dinner. Soup was the vibe for the evening, and you had found a wonderful chicken and dumplings recipe a while ago that you wanted to try. You did have to go to the store for some of the ingredients, but luckily it only took you an hour. You can back and he was still streaming. It took about another hour for dinner to be done. You let it cool and prepared yourself a bowl. You set your laptop up and started watching Dream's stream. Hearing his voice made you miss him, so you pulled out your phone.

Going to the two of y'alls messages, you started making him a voice message.

"Hey baby, I made dinner, so don't play so long it gets cold. I love you! Kick the enderdragon's ass baby! Mwah."

You continued watching him stream, and he took a pause for a minute, his screen not moving from the create a new world screen and his mic muted. A couple seconds later you got spammed with every heart offered in the emoji index times what felt like a thousand.

He continued being quiet for a couple seconds, although he did unmute and continue playing, answering George's and Sapnap's questions of where he went with, "I had to take a message."

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Chat sometimes upset you. Sure, you got Dream, all of him, but sometimes the comments made by some of the more obsessives fans were a bit to much.

'With the way he killed those mobs you know he's got good fingers'

'His voice is hot so he must be'

'Heyo dream baby lemme see them feet'

Okay the last one was more weird, and actually turned out to be a joke from Quackity but anyway moving on.

He was your guy, and he promised himself to you, but sometimes he seemed to have a genuine connection with some of the sweeter and not gross ones. It made you scared that someone, one day, will swoop him off his feet with a comment and he’d leave you for them. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes, get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

The stream ended a little under an hour later. Dream left his recording room, grabbed a bowl of soup, and found you in the living room, lost in thought. He plopped down right next to you. 

“Talk to me baby.”

“About what?”

“Anything and everything.”

“Okay.” You’re quiet for a bit, despite his offering of listening. He knew you were gonna take him up on the offer, you just needed a bit of time, so he was going to wait patiently. He finished his soup quickly, he was much hungrier than he thought. He put the bowl on the coffee table and before he was all the way leaned back on the couch, you were leaning against him. His arms wrapped around you, your head was tucked in between his head and shoulder, and a blanket covered the both of you. You looked towards the blank tv screen but felt his eyes on you.

“I love you a lot. And I know you love me too, but I’m afraid I’m not enough. You have so many options, especially with your popularity online. I don’t know what I’d do if you left me, whether it be for someone else or just because you’re tired of me.” Dream waits for you to stop entirely, with you breathing heavily.

“Well, you’re right about one thing. I do love you, a lot. The rest of it is wrong and I’ll spend the rest of time telling you so.” Dream says, pressing several kisses against your forehead. 

“Yeah I know it’s stupid to feel this way, but my anxiety gets the best of me. It’s stupid, I’m stupid.”

“First of all, you’re not stupid. Second, hey stupid, I love you.”

Nothing's wrong, I just get in my head too Can you reassure me you, you're still in it? I just wish you could lean in and kiss me

As much as Dream loved you and reassured you, sometimes he would get caught up in his thoughts too. The life of a streamer/youtuber, especially one with as much fame and subscribers as him, was rough. The constant need to feed his fans with entertainment and content, and the need for the content to satisfy his fans was stressful. He hates to admit it, but he some days he spent to much time working and not enough with you. He thinks you would be so much happier with someone without a tight schedule and without a large, intense fanbase. Any random person on the street would be better for you than him, he thinks. 

When he gets into this headspace, the only thing that grounds him is your lips on his. When you kiss him, the clouds go away and all he can see is your eyes, as bright as the sun, and your smile, which can tempt even the purest. 

Say nothing's wrong, tell me to settle down You do it better than I've ever known how Won't pull some tricks for attention But could I get a little now?

Now, everyone knows that Dream likes some attention. He especially likes attention from you. Good thing is you also like attention, especially from him. The not so good thing is both of y’all get distracted so bad, it’s almost too funny.

He tends to get your attention by tickling you, whether it be in the comfort of your home or in public. One day, when you guys were walking through town, you stopped at a flower booth and got to talking with the friendly and flirty florist gentleman. It had been a couple minutes, and Dream was really needing some love, but you continued chatting with the florist who was definitely going to ask for your number but you genuinely thought he was just being nice. Dream crept up behind you and placed his hands on your side. You froze for a moment and looked at him, confused. The smirk that crossed his face barely gave you a second to prepare as he tickled your sides. Your laughter filled the street as you turned around as he tickled you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, which got him to stop ticking you, and gave him a kiss. The two of you continued on your way, attached at the hip.

And one day, when you wanted his attention, it was after he was done recording a manhunt with his friends. The actual video had been done for a bit, but they were just fucking around in the minecraft world and talking to each other. You had had a not so nice day, and wanted the crushing weight of your boyfriend on top of you. You crept into his recording room and came to stand right behind his chair. Based on the conversation you could tell he wasn’t recording anymore, so you knew it was safe. Your hands started in his hair, trailed down to his face, and slid down his body till your arms were wrapped around him snuggly. Your head was placed on top of his. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, and received no response. Instead, you began aggressively shaking him and the chair, turning it this way and that, making him slightly dizzy. His laughter filled the room, and he quickly ended the call. The two of you spent the next 12 hours cuddled in bed, leaving only for the necessities. 

You're jealous, you shouldn't be I want you obsessively But I know how complicated it can get When you're not in front of me I know insecurities get in your head

Dream got jealous as well sometimes. You were beautiful and a lot of the time attracted the attention of random passerbyers. Those people, who you don’t even know, who lived normal lives where they didn’t have to spend every second worried that their face will be revealed to the public and suddenly all their fans from around the world will know what they look like or the general area in which they live, who don’t have to obey algorithms and bend to the will of the masses to make sure they get paid enough to live, who could give you a normal and safe life. Every time one looked at you with some attraction, he pulled you a bit closer and kissed you a bit harder. 

But I'm not gonna interrupt if you need to talk about it Roll my eyes or get offended by the way you doubt it You know you're mine, you just forget sometimes So promise me you won’t And you know I'll remind you when you think I don't

Sometimes, Dream needed to rant. A long, hard, intense, rant. Sometimes it was about how someone accused him of cheating his speedruns. Sometimes it was about how someone said something nasty to him or one of his friends. Sometimes it was about a comment someone made about him or you that got on his nerves. When he needed to talk, you sat there and you listened. You did whatever he needed to get better, whether it was just listen or talk to find solutions. You did it because you know he would do the same for you. And afterwards, a cuddle session was a must. 

How could you forget? I told you seventeen times before 7 AM I love you How could you forget? I told you seventeen times

The morning after rough days were one of the bests. Arms tangled together, legs tangled together, everything tangled together, no one able to tell where one started and the other ended. Lazy kisses pressed to faces, hands, necks, any part of skin the lips could touch. One particular morning you woke up earlier than he did. A quick kiss against his cheek woke him up, and he gave you the most love filled smile any man could do.

“Hey stupid,” you said, “I love you.”

[vetrubius]

-Pain-

Pairings: BokutoxY/N (platonical), Surprise characterxY/N

A/N: Hey y'all. I'm not doing great per se. College is really stressing me out. And I really wanna write. But I'm not really getting time. Anyway, here's a piece I wrote a few months ago but had to clean it a little. Enjoy<333 Warnings: A LOT of ANGST, Suicide Attempts, Manipulation, Light fluff, Minors DNI

W.C: 1,329

You know you really missed him. Because the second you turned to the other side in the morning, the bed was empty. His now faded scent stayed on. Of course you’d been wanting to see him again. How could you even forget the way he made you feel? The happy aura, the comforting arms, the occasional breakfast in bed on weekends.

You fight a tear from your side. Why’d you have to go ahead and mess it up? What was the reason? A whole year, wasted.

Your thoughts were disturbed by the door bell ringing profusely. You hoped it was him. You’d hoped he’d come back to forgive you, to be the bigger person. You open the door slightly to have eye contact with Bokuto. You knew he’d rushed all the way from his practice for you. You really needed someone right now. And you didn’t know who to call other than him.

“I know you were at practice,” you said after opening the door and letting him in “I’m really sorry. I just wanted someone to be with” you said, looking at the floor in shame.

“Hey, it’s okay. We got off early today. So, I didn’t miss practice.” He said, softly taking off his jacket and throwing his bag on the couch. Observing your tear stained face Bokuto did not waste a second in engulfing your small frame into his arms.

“I know he meant a lot. But you should stop. You know he won’t come back.” He whispered while stroking your hair and planting soft kisses across your scalp.

Bokuto and you had been best friends forever. Which made it easier for you to share things with him. It was as if you both knew everything about each other. Exactly how each other felt. But you also knew you two would never work it out. It would never happen.

He would be in another city and you couldn’t be with someone who could not devote every single minute to you.

Your separation anxiety always becomes worse in long distance. That is exactly what had happened, didn’t it? Instead of going to him, you’d chosen someone else’s company. You’d cheated on him with someone else. You never knew you were capable of it.

You’d ruined a lot of friendships this way. Only for you to block your past relationships. Cutting them off without any hesitation. Which only lead to your small friend circle and a lot of self destructive tendencies.

“Bo...why am I this way? I don’t want to be this way. I want to get better. I want to be normal. I don’t want to be dependent on people. Please. Take care of me. I want to get better,” a burst of tears flooded your face, all being absorbed by Bokuto’s jersey.

“I don’t want to feel this pain anymore.”

Bokuto responded to this by swooping your shivering body off the floor. The walk from the foyer to the bedroom seemed long with the words you kept murmuring. Talking so negatively about yourself, it broke Bokuto’s heart.

“It’s alright, I got you,” He said, opening the door of your bathroom “you’ll be good, I know you’ll be. You’ve always been this strong.” He kept your cold, murmuring body in the bathtub and started filling it with warm water.

He held your hand. You saw his face. His grey hair, drooping. His face filled with stubble. His eyes surrounded by the dark circles clearly visible from the sleepless nights. It had been so long since you’d seen him you’d forgotten his rough, calloused hands in yours. His lips silently moving in a prayer.

You couldn’t blame him. He had too much on his brain, his schedule, his practice. His girlfriend blamed him for things he wasn’t responsible for. There was too much going on in both of your lives to have time for each other but you were eternally grateful for this moment.

Your thought process was interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Your body refused to move. “Ko.. could you get the door, please?” you said with your croaky voice.

“Yes, just close your eyes” Bokuto said while getting up, turning the tap off and going out of the bathroom. What if you could end everything right now?

What if you just drowned yourself and got over with it. It’s not like your life wasn’t worth living anyway. You’d never done anything special since childhood. You’d never been loved. Just cast aside.

“Maybe I should slip in the water. Nobody would ever know.”

-- --- --- ---- ---

“Y/N, WAKE THE FUCK UP, I’M NOT GONNA LOSE YOU LIKE THIS.” Bo said with tears in his eyes. How could he be so stupid leaving you alone in a tub full of water. “WAKE UP WAKE UP PLEASE JUST WAK-”

“Give her to me, get the heater and blankets, I’ll carry her over to the bed. Get the hairdryer while you’re at it” he said.

“THIS IS BECAUSE OF YOU. YOU COULD’VE JUST STAYED AT HOME WITH HER. YOU SHOULD’VE JUST BEEN WITH HE-”

“It wasn’t my fault Bokuto. Refrain yourself. One of us needs to be calm. Get the things quickly” He said as he picked your unconscious body up from the water and kept it on the bathroom floor and petted you dry.

“DON’T TOUCH HER, SHE’S ALREADY SO RUINED. BECAUSE OF YOU.YOU TOOK HER SANITY.”

“You know what she’s done, Bokuto. You think it hasn’t affected me? I’m ready to do everything for her. There is no forgiveness. There is just something I wanna talk to her about. This is just psychological manipulation she’s doing to get you too. You know she doesn’t care. You know ho-”

“Get out. Leave her on the bed.” the pain in his voice was audible.

“I know.”

Bokuto looked at him in confusion and watery eyes. “What?”

“I know you’re in love with her. I know she cheated on me with you. Don’t you understand how hard it is for me to be here with you? Don’t you know, Bo?” he sighed “I know you cheated on your girlfriend too. I don’t know what to do. I love her. But this here, looking at her this way, with you? I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.” he said, briefly stopping to rub your body rigorously for heat and looking at Bokuto.

“I better leave. Take care, Y/N. You got what you wanted.”

------------------

“Ka….geyama?”

“Hi, angel. I’m back. Just like you wanted.” Kageyma said as he locked on your eyes and held your cold hands in his warm ones.

“Where’s Bokuto?” you asked him looking around the bedroom. He was sitting on the study chair, looking at you.

The fresh sheets were laid. The dirty laundry bunch you’d thrown in the corner had been put in the laundry. The curtains were pulled apart to get the sunlight in the room. The fresh set of clothes that you were wearing kept you warm. The warmth had finally woken you up.

“He won’t be bothering you for a while. He took his decision.” The black haired boy said as he looked up with a shit eating grin, holding a cup of hot liquid.

“Anyway, I know it was him,” he said while swirling around in the chair. “So I fucked his girlfriend. She told me to not tell you but she’s breaking up with him.”

A look of horror struck your face. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s simple, baby. He’s permanently leaving the country and I’m gonna move in with his girlfriend. You’ll be left alone again. And that’s a better revenge than I originally planned.”

He said as he got up from his chair, kept the tea on your night stand and stood near the door frame.

“Enjoy your loneliness. I really let you live so you could feel this pain. See you later, babe” he said as he broke the last eye contact you’d ever have with him.

series masterlist

[modern-inheritance]

Modern Inheritance: Look at my Son (Pre-Eragon)

Brom hunched his shoulders against the gust of snow flurries that tugged at his clothes as his horse clopped tiredly along. He knew he was getting close, could still feel the tiny threads of Selena’s energy leading to the small farm on the edge of Carvahall.

His stomach churned. Not only because he was hungry, but because he didn’t know what he was going to find when he reached his destination. Had the healers observations and Brom’s own hypothesis correct? He didn’t know if he wanted to be right or if he wanted to be wrong.

The Rider pulled his horse to a stop at the small house his spells were leading him to.

It wasn’t anything fancy. A simple homestead with a single story, a paddock next to the side porch. Brom could see a small patch of empty farmland behind the paddock, stubbled with the remains cut, dead stalks of grains poking up through the light layer of snow.

It looked like a home for a family.

Sighing, Brom leaned his forearms on the saddle’s pommel and examined the home, looking for some excuse to enter. He found a reason in one of the two work horses, a muscled bay, that had a pronounced limp.

Moments later found him knocking on the front door. His heart thumped in his chest. He had to play this along for a little while, then he could have the truth.

At the third knock a thin man opened the door. He looked at Brom with intense, dark eyes, then cocked an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Brom cleared his throat. “Ah, well, not to intrude, sir. I was passing by and saw that one of your horses has a quite a limp. Didn’t know if you were aware, and I just…”

The man sighed tiredly. “Yeah, I’m aware. Thank you.” He leaned out to look over at the bay as it lapped water from a trough. “Poor girl. I don’t have the money to replace her, but I don’t have the money to get her looked at either. I’ve been resting her since winter started, but nothing seems to work.”

“I might be able to help, if you don’t mind me working with her a bit.” Brom gestured to his own steed. “I’m a bit of a traveling storyteller, but I’ve picked up quite a few tricks for healing, especially where horses are involved. Can’t get anywhere with a lame animal.” He offered his hand. “My name is Brom.”

Out of instinct the other man shook his hand. “Garrow.” Then he paused. “I appreciate your offer, but as I said, we don’t have much money, and I’m not the sort of person to accept–”

Brom cut him off. “If you insist on paying me, I’d appreciate a hot meal and a porch to sleep on for the night.” He chuckled roughly. “I’m having a bit of money trouble myself. Don’t think I have enough for a room in town.”

Garrow rubbed his chin, obviously thinking it over. For a moment Brom was worried he would refuse again, but then a woman’s voice called from within the house, coming closer with each word. “Honey? Who is it?”

A woman appeared behind Garrow. Brom’s heart leapt to his throat when he saw a child balanced on her hip, but then he came to his senses. The boy was much too big to have been born in the last few months.

“This gentleman–Brom, was it?–Brom was offering to take a look at old Betty for us.”

“And you were going on about not accepting charity, weren’t you? Garrow, you are not going to let this opportunity slide after all the complaining you’ve done about Betty being lame. Let the poor man in!” She swatted her husband on the shoulder good naturedly. “I already heard his offer to trade. Brom, you are welcome to stay for dinner and sleep in our guest room if you can help our horse.”

Garrow chewed his lip for a moment as the woman went back into the house, the toddler on her hip staring back at the stranger at his door with wide gray eyes. “Fine, fine. You can let your horse into the paddock to feed. I’ll get my coat.”

~~~

With magic on his side, the horse’s leg was easy to fix.

To keep impressions up, Brom took to murmuring to the pained animal in the Ancient Language, weaving in his spells subtly as he checked each leg and gently manipulated muscle and bone. Garrow would occasionally ask how he was doing certain exercises, but mostly kept to himself, leanly corded arms wrapped in a well worn jacket and crossed on his thin chest.

After two hours of working with the horse, Brom managed to get Betty to put her full weight on her previously injured limb.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Garrow grunted. “You must be some kind of miracle worker.”

Brom brushed his hands off and gave the bay a pat on her thick shoulder. “No, no. Just had many years of experience. She’ll still need rest until it’s fully healed. I wouldn’t have her pulling anything until spring. These types of injuries can get worse and have a nasty habit of popping up again if pushed too early.” The farmer nodded, assuring the stranger that he would take his advice, and then, finally, invited Brom into his home.

~~~ “Marian!” Garrow called, hanging his coat on the rack beside the door. Instead of his wife, the child from before came tottering out of what Brom assumed was the kitchen. “Hey, big guy! Where’s your mommy, huh?” In one fell swoop, Garrow crouched down and lifted the little boy up into his arms.

The child giggled, reaching out for his father’s head with grasping fingers. Garrow humored him, letting him tug at his ears, as Brom followed the man’s example of hanging his coat. As if suddenly noticing the newcomer, the boy let go of Garrow’s ears and leaned over his shoulder, pointing with an exclamation of childish surprise. “Ah, right. Roran, this man here is Brom. He helped the horse get better.” Garrow looked back. “This is Roran, our son.”

Brom awkwardly waved. “Hello, Roran.”

Roran waved back vigorously. “‘Aye Bom!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Marian appeared in the doorway that Roran had come through, wiping her hands on her checkered waist apron. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose bun. “Supper will be ready in another hour or two. How did it go?”

“Brom here has magic hands, honey.” Garrow set Roran down, letting him toddle off, and clapped Brom on the shoulder. “Betty will actually walk on her leg now.”

Marian flashed Brom a warm smile. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much, Brom. Please, have a seat! I’ll get some tea for you both to warm up.”

Garrow led the other man to the living room and offered him a seat in a worn armchair. “I know it’s not exactly the cleanest place in the world, but it’s home.” Garrow apologized, hastily moving blocks, a baby’s play mat, and various toys away with his feet. “We had an unexpected new addition to the family a little while ago. Hard keeping up with two little ones.”

Brom’s heart skipped a beat as he accepted the offered chair. “Congratulations. Two children are quite a blessing.”

Garrow chuckled slightly as he sat across from him on the couch. “Ah, well. He’s not ours, really. He’s my sister’s boy, but she had to leave him with us. We love him as our own, though.”

A boy!

He had a son!

“That’s incredibly kind of you.”

Suddenly, a soft cry came from a room further in the house.

The farmer stood. “There he is. Excuse me.”

Brom nearly choked as Garrow disappeared down the hall. He had a son! A little boy! His heart bashed against his ribs as he realized that Garrow was likely going to return with the baby. He was about to see his son for the first time and he was the only person in the world who knew it. He braced his elbows on his knees, trying to calm himself.

Dear Gods, he had never been good with children. They were small, generally talked or cried a lot, stank, and were prone to all kinds of trouble. He never knew what way he was supposed to hold them, especially babies, and when they weren’t able to talk he was secretly terrified of not being able to help them or give them what they wanted.

Would he be able to handle even seeing the boy? What if he had to hold him? Stars above, he wanted to hold him, but at the same time what if he broke him? What if–

“Here’s the little man.” Brom started when Garrow spoke, gaze shooting up to see the farmer settling back onto the couch with a squirming bundle in his arms. “Sorry about the crying. It’s all they seem to do at this age.”

Brom cleared his throat, trying to fight past the lump he felt forming. He couldn’t see past the blankets. “No, it’s fine.”

Garrow gently bounced the child in his lanky arms, trying to soothe him. “Have any of your own?”

The question struck hard. “Ah, no. I’ve helped care for a few while traveling with troupes though.” Tentatively, as if he might be breaking some unspoken rule, Brom stood and approached the couch. “May I see him?”

“Yeah, yeah, sit. Shh shh shh, it’s okay, Unkie Garrow’s here.” Brom took the spot next to Garrow as gently as he could, his mind blocking out even the crying. He still couldn’t see him.

“Roran, what have you go– GARROW!” Marian’s flustered voice suddenly cut through the din. “Garrow, Roran got into your tools again and is about to smash a window with that silly hammer! My hands are full!”

“Shoot! Not again!” Garrow looked between the kitchen and the babe in his arms, clearly torn. His gaze settled on Brom as his wife again yelled for him. “Ah, here, can you maybe just–”

Before he even had time to answer Garrow transferred the warm bundle of blanket and baby to Brom’s arms and was out of the room.

Brom looked down, eyes wide and disbelieving. His arms began gently rocking the child of their own accord as a calm suddenly settled over his panicked mind.

The crying stopped.

And so did the rest of the world.

A pudgy face looked up at him from the bunched up blanket, slightly red from the screaming earlier, appearing a curious at the new face that gazed down.

Brom couldn’t breathe. Something welled up in his chest that wasn’t anything he had felt before. It felt like…pride. But that wasn’t it. It was something distinctly different but nameless, sending warm tingles across his entire body and forming a lump in his throat.

Then the baby gurgled and smiled up at him.

And Brom fell apart.

“Hi.” The Rider whispered, nearly choking on the word. He carefully used a finger to move more of the blanket away from the child’s face, almost scared to touch him. The babe gave him no choice, though, by reaching out with a chubby little hand and grasped the finger near his face with a vice like grip. Brom choked out a soft laugh, wiggling the trapped appendage. “Oh, look at you. Hi, little one.” The baby laughed back, and pulled the finger up to explore with his mouth. “Hey.”

“His name is Eragon.” Brom tore his eyes from his son as Marian entered with a tray of tea. She set it down on the table beside the couch and settled down next to her guest.

“Eragon?” The Rider felt the name bolt through his conscious. Such a weighty name for such a small thing. Selena had picked a name of power, of history and peace. The name that had started the Golden Era. “That’s a…a powerful name.” He looked back to the child in his arms. “He’s beautiful.”

Marian took a sip of her tea. “You’ve heard of it? Garrow’s sister seemed to know some history behind the name.”

“It’s a very special name.” Brom murmured, gently rocking the smiling Eragon. “He’ll grow up to be an exceptional young man with a name like that.” Unbidden, another smile split Brom’s face as he gazed on his son. “Won’t you, Eragon?”

“Do you want me to take him off your hands?”

Brom didn’t look away. “No…. No, we’re fine. I’ll see if I can get him to sleep.” Marian smiled at him, thanking him for a welcome break from stresses of taking care of a fussy baby while trying to get dinner ready, and returned to the kitchen.

“You’ll grow up to be strong, Eragon.” Brom whispered to the babe. In response, Eragon let go of his finger and reached out, touching the man’s bearded cheek. “You’ll blow the world away someday. I know it.” Bright blue eyes, not yet pigmented, gazed into the same tone of blue in the eyes of the man above him.

If only Selena could see them now.

~~~

That night, Brom slept in the guest room.

It was also Eragon’s room.

Whenever the babe became fussy, Brom would quietly and carefully lift him from from his crib, consumed with wonder at his little body, and would sit with Eragon on his chest. As the beat of his heart lulled the child back to sleep, Brom softly crooned to him in the Ancient Language, weaving the words to the age old cradle song from Kusta. He familiarized himself with the face of his son, gently touched his downy brown hair, and whispered the story of the first Dragon Rider, the story of his namesake, to him as he slept.

In the morning, as dawn edged into the window, Brom forced himself to come to terms with having to leave. His heart ached as he kissed Eragon on the brow once, placed him back in his crib, and gathered his belongings.

After a small breakfast, again cooked by Marian, Brom gave his sincere thanks to the family.

“If you ever come by again, be sure to look us up.” Garrow shook his hand. “I want to properly repay you.”

“You already have.” The Rider assured him. The warmth of meeting his son was slowly seeping away to be replaced this a deep ache with each step he took to the edge of the porch. “Thank you. And thank you, Marian, for the excellent meals. I have eaten at many courts in my travels, and your food has rivaled them all.”

The woman blushed and laughed. “Well, thank you!” She glanced back into the house. “If you come back, I’m sure Eragon and Roran would love to hear a story or two. Maybe you could tell Eragon about his name.”

“I promise I will. Your hospitality has been most kind.” Adopting the old Kustan bow, Brom bid his final goodbyes and mounted his horse. “Take care. Both your children are very special. Know that. I hope you folks have fortune smile on you.”

As he clicked the steed into a walk, a sleepy eyed Roran grabbed his mother’s leg and waved. “Bye-bye Bom!”

Brom didn’t look back. He didn’t want them to see him crying.

From then on, everything Brom did wasn’t just for the Varden, elves, dwarves, Alagaësia or vengeance. It was all for his son.

[weirdponytail]

Modern Inheritance Cycle: Look at My Son (Pre-Eragon)

MODERN INHERITANCE

LOOK AT MY SON

Brom hunched his shoulders against the gust of snow flurries that tugged at his clothes as his horse clopped tiredly along. He knew he was getting close, could still feel the tiny threads of Selena’s energy leading to the small farm on the edge of Carvahall.

His stomach churned. Not only because he was hungry, but because he didn’t know what he was going to find when he reached his destination. Had the healers observations and Brom’s own hypothesis correct? He didn’t know if he wanted to be right or if he wanted to be wrong.

The Rider pulled his horse to a stop at the small house his spells were leading him to.

It wasn’t anything fancy. A simple homestead with a single story, a paddock next to the side porch. Brom could see a small patch of empty farmland behind the paddock, stubbled with the remains cut, dead stalks of grains poking up through the light layer of snow.

It looked like a home for a family.

Sighing, Brom leaned his forearms on the saddle’s pommel and examined the home, looking for some excuse to enter. He found a reason in one of the two work horses, a muscled bay, that had a pronounced limp.

Moments later found him knocking on the front door. His heart thumped in his chest. He had to play this along for a little while, then he could have the truth.

At the third knock a thin man opened the door. He looked at Brom with intense, dark eyes, then cocked an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Brom cleared his throat. “Ah, well, not to intrude, sir. I was passing by and saw that one of your horses has a quite a limp. Didn’t know if you were aware, and I just…”

The man sighed tiredly. “Yeah, I’m aware. Thank you.” He leaned out to look over at the bay as it lapped water from a trough. “Poor girl. I don’t have the money to replace her, but I don’t have the money to get her looked at either. I’ve been resting her since winter started, but nothing seems to work.”

“I might be able to help, if you don’t mind me working with her a bit.” Brom gestured to his own steed. “I’m a bit of a traveling storyteller, but I’ve picked up quite a few tricks for healing, especially where horses are involved. Can’t get anywhere with a lame animal.” He offered his hand. “My name is Brom.”

Out of instinct the other man shook his hand. “Garrow.” Then he paused. “I appreciate your offer, but as I said, we don’t have much money, and I’m not the sort of person to accept–”

Brom cut him off. “If you insist on paying me, I’d appreciate a hot meal and a porch to sleep on for the night.” He chuckled roughly. “I’m having a bit of money trouble myself. Don’t think I have enough for a room in town.”

Garrow rubbed his chin, obviously thinking it over. For a moment Brom was worried he would refuse again, but then a woman’s voice called from within the house, coming closer with each word. “Honey? Who is it?”

A woman appeared behind Garrow. Brom’s heart leapt to his throat when he saw a child balanced on her hip, but then he came to his senses. The boy was much too big to have been born in the last few months.

“This gentleman–Brom, was it?–Brom was offering to take a look at old Betty for us.”

“And you were going on about not accepting charity, weren’t you? Garrow, you are not going to let this opportunity slide after all the complaining you’ve done about Betty being lame. Let the poor man in!” She swatted her husband on the shoulder good naturedly. “I already heard his offer to trade. Brom, you are welcome to stay for dinner and sleep in our guest room if you can help our horse.”

Garrow chewed his lip for a moment as the woman went back into the house, the toddler on her hip staring back at the stranger at his door with wide gray eyes. “Fine, fine. You can let your horse into the paddock to feed. I’ll get my coat.”

~~~

With magic on his side, the horse’s leg was easy to fix.

To keep impressions up, Brom took to murmuring to the pained animal in the Ancient Language, weaving in his spells subtly as he checked each leg and gently manipulated muscle and bone. Garrow would occasionally ask how he was doing certain exercises, but mostly kept to himself, leanly corded arms wrapped in a well worn jacket and crossed on his thin chest.

After two hours of working with the horse, Brom managed to get Betty to put her full weight on her previously injured limb.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Garrow grunted. “You must be some kind of miracle worker.”

Brom brushed his hands off and gave the bay a pat on her thick shoulder. “No, no. Just had many years of experience. She’ll still need rest until it’s fully healed. I wouldn’t have her pulling anything until spring. These types of injuries can get worse and have a nasty habit of popping up again if pushed too early.” The farmer nodded, assuring the stranger that he would take his advice, and then, finally, invited Brom into his home.

~~~ “Marian!” Garrow called, hanging his coat on the rack beside the door. Instead of his wife, the child from before came tottering out of what Brom assumed was the kitchen. “Hey, big guy! Where’s your mommy, huh?” In one fell swoop, Garrow crouched down and lifted the little boy up into his arms.

The child giggled, reaching out for his father’s head with grasping fingers. Garrow humored him, letting him tug at his ears, as Brom followed the man’s example of hanging his coat. As if suddenly noticing the newcomer, the boy let go of Garrow’s ears and leaned over his shoulder, pointing with an exclamation of childish surprise. “Ah, right. Roran, this man here is Brom. He helped the horse get better.” Garrow looked back. “This is Roran, our son.”

Brom awkwardly waved. “Hello, Roran.”

Roran waved back vigorously. “‘Aye Bom!”

“I’m in the kitchen!” Marian appeared in the doorway that Roran had come through, wiping her hands on her checkered waist apron. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose bun. “Supper will be ready in another hour or two. How did it go?”

“Brom here has magic hands, honey.” Garrow set Roran down, letting him toddle off, and clapped Brom on the shoulder. “Betty will actually walk on her leg now.”

Marian flashed Brom a warm smile. “That’s wonderful! Thank you so much, Brom. Please, have a seat! I’ll get some tea for you both to warm up.”

Garrow led the other man to the living room and offered him a seat in a worn armchair. “I know it’s not exactly the cleanest place in the world, but it’s home.” Garrow apologized, hastily moving blocks, a baby’s play mat, and various toys away with his feet. “We had an unexpected new addition to the family a little while ago. Hard keeping up with two little ones.”

Brom’s heart skipped a beat as he accepted the offered chair. “Congratulations. Two children are quite a blessing.”

Garrow chuckled slightly as he sat across from him on the couch. “Ah, well. He’s not ours, really. He’s my sister’s boy, but she had to leave him with us. We love him as our own, though.”

A boy!

He had a son!

“That’s incredibly kind of you.”

Suddenly, a soft cry came from a room further in the house.

The farmer stood. “There he is. Excuse me.”

Brom nearly choked as Garrow disappeared down the hall. He had a son! A little boy! His heart bashed against his ribs as he realized that Garrow was likely going to return with the baby. He was about to see his son for the first time and he was the only person in the world who knew it. He braced his elbows on his knees, trying to calm himself.

Dear Gods, he had never been good with children. They were small, generally talked or cried a lot, stank, and were prone to all kinds of trouble. He never knew what way he was supposed to hold them, especially babies, and when they weren't able to talk he was secretly terrified of not being able to help them or give them what they wanted.

Would he be able to handle even seeing the boy? What if he had to hold him? Stars above, he wanted to hold him, but at the same time what if he broke him? What if–

“Here’s the little man.” Brom started when Garrow spoke, gaze shooting up to see the farmer settling back onto the couch with a squirming bundle in his arms. “Sorry about the crying. It’s all they seem to do at this age.”

Brom cleared his throat, trying to fight past the lump he felt forming. He couldn’t see past the blankets. “No, it’s fine.”

Garrow gently bounced the child in his lanky arms, trying to soothe him. “Have any of your own?”

The question struck hard. “Ah, no. I’ve helped care for a few while traveling with troupes though.” Tentatively, as if he might be breaking some unspoken rule, Brom stood and approached the couch. “May I see him?”

“Yeah, yeah, sit. Shh shh shh, it’s okay, Unkie Garrow’s here.” Brom took the spot next to Garrow as gently as he could, his mind blocking out even the crying. He still couldn’t see him.

“Roran, what have you go– GARROW!” Marian’s flustered voice suddenly cut through the din. “Garrow, Roran got into your tools again and is about to smash a window with that silly hammer! My hands are full!”

“Shoot! Not again!” Garrow looked between the kitchen and the babe in his arms, clearly torn. His gaze settled on Brom as his wife again yelled for him. “Ah, here, can you maybe just–”

Before he even had time to answer Garrow transferred the warm bundle of blanket and baby to Brom’s arms and was out of the room.

Brom looked down, eyes wide and disbelieving. His arms began gently rocking the child of their own accord as a calm suddenly settled over his panicked mind.

The crying stopped.

And so did the rest of the world.

A pudgy face looked up at him from the bunched up blanket, slightly red from the screaming earlier, appearing a curious at the new face that gazed down.

Brom couldn’t breathe. Something welled up in his chest that wasn’t anything he had felt before. It felt like...pride. But that wasn’t it. It was something distinctly different but nameless, sending warm tingles across his entire body and forming a lump in his throat.

Then the baby gurgled and smiled up at him.

And Brom fell apart.

“Hi.” The Rider whispered, nearly choking on the word. He carefully used a finger to move more of the blanket away from the child’s face, almost scared to touch him. The babe gave him no choice, though, by reaching out with a chubby little hand and grasped the finger near his face with a vice like grip. Brom choked out a soft laugh, wiggling the trapped appendage. “Oh, look at you. Hi, little one.” The baby laughed back, and pulled the finger up to explore with his mouth. “Hey.”

“His name is Eragon.” Brom tore his eyes from his son as Marian entered with a tray of tea. She set it down on the table beside the couch and settled down next to her guest.

“Eragon?” The Rider felt the name bolt through his conscious. Such a weighty name for such a small thing. Selena had picked a name of power, of history and peace. The name that had started the Golden Era. “That’s a...a powerful name.” He looked back to the child in his arms. “He’s beautiful.”

Marian took a sip of her tea. “You’ve heard of it? Garrow’s sister seemed to know some history behind the name.”

“It’s a very special name.” Brom murmured, gently rocking the smiling Eragon. “He’ll grow up to be an exceptional young man with a name like that.” Unbidden, another smile split Brom’s face as he gazed on his son. “Won’t you, Eragon?”

“Do you want me to take him off your hands?”

Brom didn’t look away. “No…. No, we’re fine. I’ll see if I can get him to sleep.” Marian smiled at him, thanking him for a welcome break from stresses of taking care of a fussy baby while trying to get dinner ready, and returned to the kitchen.

“You’ll grow up to be strong, Eragon.” Brom whispered to the babe. In response, Eragon let go of his finger and reached out, touching the man’s bearded cheek. “You’ll blow the world away someday. I know it.” Bright blue eyes, not yet pigmented, gazed into the same tone of blue in the eyes of the man above him.

If only Selena could see them now.

~~~

That night, Brom slept in the guest room.

It was also Eragon’s room.

Whenever the babe became fussy, Brom would quietly and carefully lift him from from his crib, consumed with wonder at his little body, and would sit with Eragon on his chest. As the beat of his heart lulled the child back to sleep, Brom softly crooned to him in the Ancient Language, weaving the words to the age old cradle song from Kusta. He familiarized himself with the face of his son, gently touched his downy brown hair, and whispered the story of the first Dragon Rider, the story of his namesake, to him as he slept.

In the morning, as dawn edged into the window, Brom forced himself to come to terms with having to leave. His heart ached as he kissed Eragon on the brow once, placed him back in his crib, and gathered his belongings.

After a small breakfast, again cooked by Marian, Brom gave his sincere thanks to the family.

“If you ever come by again, be sure to look us up.” Garrow shook his hand. “I want to properly repay you.”

“You already have.” The Rider assured him. The warmth of meeting his son was slowly seeping away to be replaced this a deep ache with each step he took to the edge of the porch. “Thank you. And thank you, Marian, for the excellent meals. I have eaten at many courts in my travels, and your food has rivaled them all.”

The woman blushed and laughed. “Well, thank you!” She glanced back into the house. “If you come back, I’m sure Eragon and Roran would love to hear a story or two. Maybe you could tell Eragon about his name.”

“I promise I will. Your hospitality has been most kind.” Adopting the old Kustan bow, Brom bid his final goodbyes and mounted his horse. “Take care. Both your children are very special. Know that. I hope you folks have fortune smile on you.”

As he clicked the steed into a walk, a sleepy eyed Roran grabbed his mother’s leg and waved. “Bye-bye Bom!”

Brom didn’t look back. He didn’t want them to see him crying.

From then on, everything Brom did wasn’t just for the Varden, elves, dwarves, Alagaësia or vengeance. It was all for his son.

[imnotwolverine]

The Witcher way

Henry Cavill x OC Lisa - multi-chapter fic

Author’s note: Smutty smut, fluffy fluff and a few skipping heartbeats. Lisa and Henry get back to work, but life - as usual - offers them a challenge or two. 

Word count: 1.572

Disclaimer: fluff and smut

--

This is part 18 of the Tea for Two story.

You can find the Masterlist here. 

--

< Go back to part 17

‘Pizza!’

Henry cheered as we heard a faint knock on the door of the small cottage, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he sprinted down the hallway to open up. I chuckled softly and half-listened in on the conversation between the delivery boy - obviously a fan - and Henry as I moved to the small kitchen to get some paper towels and cutlery.

It was Sunday evening and tomorrow morning working life was starting again. The Witcher production was beginning its first month of pre-production in the Scottish highlands, which offered not only beautifully picturesque landscapes..but also a complete lack of supermarkets that were opened on Sundays.

A challenge, surely, but one that was easily overcome by Henry whom had taken it upon himself to figure out if we could order in. We could; Pizza... Pizza... And more pizza. 

And that was really all we needed right now, our bodies quite travel worn from the long trip from our - did I mention I officially moved in? - London home to this cute little cottage in the Scottish highlands.

The rural style kitchen of the cottage was simple at best. A small hob with an oven, an even smaller fridge, a porcelain sink and an old oak dinner table that stood below the paned window, an empty vase and some candles placed on top to spruce the room up ever so slightly.

I leaned on the rough wood of the table as I peeked out of the window, the delivery boy now climbing back on his scooter, while laughing at something Henry said, his hand revving the engine back to roaring life.  

Wandering back into the hallway I was met by a giddy-with-excitement Henry,  the boxes with pizzas and some drinks stacked carefully in his arms.

‘Smells good!’ I hummed, appreciatively sniffing in the savoury smells.

‘Sure does.’ He agreed, his eyes moving to the living room. ‘Couch?’

‘Yes pur-lease.’ I smiled, curtsying slightly as Henry offered me first entry to the living room.

As Henry started to investigate the pizzas I turned on the television, happily surprised to find it offered the functionality to log in to Netflix.

‘Netflix and chill?’ I purred, looking over at Henry who had already dug into one of the pizzas, his teeth biting into an oozing hot slice of pepperoni pizza. He nodded, slightly embarrassed by his manners and moved up a hand to hide the mess of cheese strings that were hanging from the corner of his mouth. I laughed, poking him in the arm and reached for the box to also take a slice, my other hand scrolling through the new additions.

Some cooking shows, some mildly interesting documentaries, some Netflix originals that did not look promising in the slightest..and then..the Witcher season 3.

‘Hey. Have you seen the new season yet?’ I quirked up an eyebrow, looking at Henry as he was once again mid bite. He shrugged and quickly swallowed his bite. ‘Only the first episode…Premiere nights you know.’ He winked. ‘Want to maybe..continue? Call it work research before we start shooting the next season?’ I tried, Henry already grabbing a new slice of the pizza. ‘Sure. I’ll try to not hate seeing myself.’ He said casually.

‘Bear!’ I sighed, giving him a exasperated yet comforting smile. ‘You know I don’t want you to feel that way. If you don’t like it, we’ll watch something else.’ I said before finally taking a bite, humming in satisfaction as the hot cheesy goodness oozed down my tongue. ‘So gooooood.’ I groaned, barely noticing Henry’s hand reaching for the remote, clicking on “ok”.

The episode started and we ate and ate, Henry occasionally making comments on scenes he had fond..or not so fond memories of. Especially nude scenes got him all quiet and awkward.  

I smiled, laying against his chest, enjoying the series without much of a thought. No thought other then; Holy fuck, Geralt is so hot. 

To realise that the very man was now being my personal pillow, was more then a little arousing.

I looked at him during a sex scene between Yennefer and Geralt, seeing him once more stare in utter silence.

Hmm… 

I Moved my hand to his chest and wrapped my leg over his lap, crawling on top of him just like Yennefer had gotten onto Geralt. Our eyes met, his blue orbs looking at me with confusion, before realising what I was onto, my lips slowly inching down to his mouth. He moved back a little, leaning into the soft pillows of the fluffy brown couch before letting out a pent up sigh, his eyes quickly darkening. ‘Don’t be shy now…Geralt.’ I said playfully, kissing him more entrancingly. His hunger was now fully awakened, a hunger that sparkled in his eyes as his lips curled up ever so slightly. ‘Hmmmpf.’ He growled.

Geralt is in the house.

In one fell swoop he pushed the pizza box behind me off the couch and pushed himself down onto me, my back now flat on the pillows. His jaw clenched as his nostrils flared - with annoyance or lust.. I did not know.

‘That scent…’ He rumbled in Geralt’s low, raspy voice, roughly moving his hand through my hair. I bit my lip, expectantly, feeling him move his nose down my neck, sniffing me like a touch-deprived animal, his hands starting to tug at my pyjama pants. He looked down at me, embalming me with his wanton gaze, his arms moving to quickly take of his shirt.

‘What’s taking you so long?’ I said in Yennefer’s cocky voice, making him growl even lower, his large body quickly climbing back on top of me, rubbing himself against my groin. He was ..very..excited. 

His heavy erection already pressing eagerly through the fabric that separated us, making me shiver in anticipation. I forced myself to breath in deeply, closing my eyes as I felt his coarse fingers near the trim of my lacy underwear, the fabric being pulled away with ease before the silky skin of his erection pressed against my core.

I gasped at the sensation, my eyes shooting open at him as he pressed higher, my clit awakening in an instant. ‘Hmmm…you’re quite ready.’ He said gruffly,  before penetrating me in one smooth motion, making us both groan. Still half clothed, it felt ever as hasty and passionate as Geralt and Yennefer on screen, our bodies a tumble of passion.

The series already continued with some grave fight scene, but we didn’t care. We ravaged each other, our hair wild, our hands grasping at each other, searching for skin until we finally found our release, our bodies crashing back onto the couch.

His love making had been so rough I could only shiver and shake when he was done, my legs splayed out as he got up slightly, cupping my cheek, demanding me to look at him. ‘Hey..you okay?’ I looked at him, still shaking. ‘Wew…’ I panted. An exhausted, slightly pained smile played on my lips. 

‘Oh my..’ I continued, still panting and shivering. He pulled up his pants and pulled me onto his lap, kissing me sweetly on my temple. I snuggled away in his chest, still a bit shaky, but smiling.

I looked back at the screen. The episode had ended, credits rolling as a loomy soundtrack played.

‘Okay, roleplaying at own risk.’ I finally said, sniffling, then rolling up further in his arms, putting my head against his chest. My innards were on fire and electricity kept shooting through my nerves every few seconds or so. 

I guess this is what one would call “fucked out”.

He wrapped me more gently in his arms, like a babe, kissing my forehead, sighing. ‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered. I smiled and shook my head. ‘Superman..super sex.’ I shrugged, feeling another spike shoot through my body, making me stiffen. He kissed my head again, sniffling softly as he kept me snug against his chest. We sat there for a moment while my body slowly quieted down.

‘Oh..I’m leaking…’ I said a bit embarrassed, feeling it go through my panties.

Without question he stood up, keeping me snug in his arms as he walked through the small hallway to the quaint bathroom. I sniggered.

‘I CAN walk you know.’

‘Mhm.’ He smiled, hoisting me up further, placing a pillowy kiss on my lips. ‘I know.’ He said smugly, still not lowering me down.

He turned on the shower and walked us into it, our clothes quickly soaking in the hot water. He huddled over me, shielding me from direct water in my face, his lips caressing me with the sweetest of kisses.

‘A bit of romcom romance to wash off my sin.’ He whispered, cheekily grinning at me. I smiled, relaxing more into his strong arms as the hot water relaxed me to the point that I felt like putty in his arms. He kissed me one more time before lowering me down slowly.

Our clothes were now heavy with water, our hair falling like curtains around our faces.

‘Maybe that’s a roleplaying more to my liking.’ I said, biting his lip playfully. He laughed, then started to pull off his socks, pants and trunks. I in turn pulled off my panties and shirt. We giggled, throwing the soaked clothes in a corner of the shower, before giving each other another lingering kiss. ‘Hmm.’ He hummed, enveloping me once more in his arms as I soaped up his hair. ‘My sweet Geralt.’ I smiled.

—

The next morning I was the first to leave for work. But I didn’t feel all too well. Actually not well at all. I rushed to the toilet, throwing up, feeling my lower back all cramped as I clamped onto the toilet.

‘Mmmpff.’ I groaned, taking a few deep breaths. My stomach was pretty upset.

I could hear Kal’s nails ticking on the floor behind me, a wet nose pushing against me, asking me what I was up to. 

I sat up a bit, feeling nauseous from just breathing. Kal whined softly, pushing his face through my arm and licking my face.

‘Pfff.. I hope it wasn’t the pizza, or Henry will be next.’ I mumbled, giving him a stroke through his thick fur.

‘Hey boy.’

I forced myself to get up, feeling weak in the legs. This was not like me…I took a deep breath through my nose, keeping my mouth fell shut but immediately feeling another wave come over me. I crouched down again, throwing up once more. Though it mostly was dry heaving now. I flushed and groaned in dismay. NO. I can’t be sick on my first day back at work. Get it together girl. Rawr!

I spritzed my face with some cold water from the sink and saw Kal looking at me with a confused look. Had he ever seen a human vomit? I pulled myself back up and looked into the mirror. I looked normal, I guess. Not pale, or sweaty. I felt my cheeks. They were fine. Yea..maybe just some bad food. I washed my mouth, then opened the drawer and popped some pain killers in my mouth.

Kissing a sleeping Henry goodbye I went off to work.

—

Throughout the day I started feeling a bit better. It was quite calm at work with a few meetings and some prep work, leaving me with a lot of spare moments to give way to a certain nervousness. Was there some other reason I had felt sick this morning? Did I maybe not take my pill at the right times during our holiday?

I was sitting in the back of the set, waiting for others to move around some set pieces and looked around. Nobody was watching. Quietly I squeezed one of my breasts. Painful. Oh gods. Could it be…? I started rummaging through my bag, looking at my pill strip. I was only 3 quarters through. It was too early. I felt my breath quicken, my head a little light. ‘Okey..calm down girl. Let’s..Let’s not overreact.’

During my lunch break I borrowed a car from a colleague to buy some pregnancy tests, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

Should I tell him? Should I tell him?

Should I?

--

I came home, good smells coming from the kitchen. I plopped down my bag, was greeted by an overly excited Kal and walked into the kitchen.

A very sexy, domestic Henry was wearing a fitted t-shirt, jeans and apron. ‘Hey..what’s cooking good-lookin’?’ I quipped, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before looking over his shoulder at the cut vegetables on the wooden board.

‘Hello dear.’ He gave me a playful pat on the butt. ‘Something simple. Vegetarian pasta.’ He shrugged. ‘Well..it smells a-ma-zing.’ I said, smiling as his knife continued to cut up vegetables. ‘How was your day?’ He asked. I stole a bit of cheese from his cutting board and moved to the table, plopping down on one of the chairs.

‘Not great. Felt very ill this morning. Maybe I ate something bad..’ I frowned. ‘Did you have any stomach pains by any chance?’

He shook his head. ‘Not really.’

I touched my breast again, my lips forming a thin, unsure line. ‘I think we need to…check..if this is not something else..’ I said, hesitatingly. He looked up and over his shoulder, his face a bit confused, first looking at my face, then at the hand on my breast. His lips parted as his eyes darted back to mine.

‘Wh..’ He breathed, turning fully towards me, one of his arms ghosting over the stove to push a pan with some frying onions off the stove before they’d burn.

His eyes widened and within the blink of an eye he was kneeling before me, a hand cupping my cheek while the other folded around the hand on my lap. I looked down at our hands on my lap, my throat suddenly feeling dry as sandpaper. ‘I got some pregnancy tests on the way back home.’ I said softly, my breath hitching.

‘OH.’ He gasped, his mouth slightly agape as he pulled me in for a hug. I could almost feel the joy radiate from him. His long cherished dream. 

‘So…do you have to…pee?’ He looked at me, curiously. I sniffled. ‘I believe it’s best in the morning.. But I still have to read the wrapper.’ I sighed, laying my head against his shoulder. He nodded, then wrapped me more tightly in his arms. ‘Oh my.’ He sighed, finally letting out the breath he had been holding.

‘I’m scared.’ I said in hushed tone.

He cupped my cheek again, keeping his other arm safely wrapped around me as he searched for words.

‘I don’t know if I’m ready.’ I said, looking up into his eyes. They became a shade sadder.

‘Let’s…give it a moment. And…see what it is first?’ He said, raising his eyebrows in an expression mixed between joy and confusion, before deciding it was best to just fully wrap me in his arms, his fingers gently coaxing me to lean into him as he laid his head in my neck.

—

The next morning we both awoke anxiously. We did not even yawn or stretch, just ..straight to the bathroom. I peed on one of the sticks, while Henry petted Kal nervously, waiting on the door step with the door opened. Our eyes met, both our faces etched with tense nerves as I put the stick on the edge of the sink. I didn’t feel terribly sick this morning, but my stomach sure was turning. I finished peeing, flushed, and looked at the stick. No signs yet. ‘A few minutes,’ Henry whispered, eyeing the stick as it lay there balancing on the white porcelain.

I sighed, then walked up to Henry, hugging him. ‘Let’s…get breakfast.’ I said, hoping it would take our mind of the matter just long enough to calm our nerves. He nodded.

Well..we never munched down our breakfast so fast, quietly shoving it into our mouths.

Before re-entering the bathroom, he grasped my arm. ‘No matter what happens. We’re in it together. I support you and love you.’ He said, looking at me intensely before pressing a kiss on my lips. I nodded, then walked to the sink, my eyes immediately sinking down to the little stick as it lay there, forlorn.

Negative.

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding, the spinning world suddenly coming to a halt.

I could feel Henry’s arms as they tentatively wrapped around me, his hands curling over my belly. He was quiet. His breath slow and warm in my neck. And I wasn’t sure what to do. After a long exhale I finally looked up, our eyes looking at one another through the mirror.

���Gods.’ I breathed.

His face was a touch pained, his jaw clenching. A sight that made me hurt beyond words. I knew he was trying to keep it together, to be calm and supportive, to give me space. But what about him?

I turned around, looking at him directly, wrapping my arms around him. ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked gently.

He drew in a deep, sharp breath, his deep blue eyes meeting my green ones. ‘Okay.’ He nodded, slowly accepting the reality as it was. ‘..A bit of a rollercoaster of emotions.’ He sighed again, looking over my shoulder to see the negative result once more, burning the image of the offensive piece of plastic in his mind.

I pulled his face towards me, laying a most gentle kiss on his lips. ‘I love you bear. And please know, that it will come. Just…not yet. We know each other for a little over half a year. Besides parenthood still feels kind of daunting to me…pregnancy especially. I guess I need to get used to the idea first before we…’ I looked back in his eyes, losing my trail of thoughts. 

‘I know. And I understand.’ He was obviously a bit sad, his blue eyes blazing with emotions unspoken.

I smiled feebly. 

‘I love you I love you I love you.’ I whispered, squeezing him into the hardest, most snug hug I could manage. He hummed quietly, also pulling his arms more tightly around me. ‘I love you too my dearest.’

--

Part 19 > 

[psychovigilantewrites]

Jason, Not Him

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 5758

Ao3

Summary:  Jason feels like his older brother Dick wants his girlfriend. Too bad. Dick can't have you. You're Jason's and he's going to make sure Dick understands that.

A/N: Hey guys! Taking a break from Red Who and decided to write this short smut up instead. This has tags for voyeurism, semi public sex and Jason being all possessive. 

Masterlist

Dick got everything he wanted.

He was the golden boy, the first Robin, the responsible one, the leader.

Jason? Jason was the Universe’s bitch.

It wasn't hard to love dick. Dick had girls swooning over him ever since he was a kid. Now that he's all grown up, of course even more women would flock to him.

Dick also had a face that you knew you could trust. He was sensitive, friendly, warm, and open with his feelings.

Jason was the complete opposite. It wasn't that he wasn't a looker, but you'd need to have a specific type to like someone like Jason. People would fall in love with Dick the minute they saw him, but for Jason’s case, they'd need to see him every day to really appreciate his subtle good looks.

Jason wasn't as friendly and warm as Dick, too. Neither was he open with his feelings like Dick was.

But did Jason hate Dick? No. On the contrary, Jason loved him. He was Jason’s older brother after all, and Jason respected him. He was skilled, he worked hard. Jason had no problem admitting all of that.

And you know what? Jason never tried to overshadow his older brother. Jason never tried to get Bruce to love him more, to get people to tell him he was the better Robin, to steal his girlfriends, to snatch his best friends.

Was there a sense of jealousy that he felt? Yes, from time to time. Who wouldn’t be occasionally jealous of their perfect older brother?

But Jason would never act out on it. If Dick wanted something, he wouldn't fight him on it.

But you? Jason would fight Dick to the death if it meant that he got to keep you.

You were the only thing that Jason truly wanted, loved, appreciated. You were what pulled him from whatever dark place he was in and guided him to be the happy and content man he was today.

Dick couldn't have you.

But oh, did he want to.

Jason knew that Dick was the flirtatious type- even with men. Dick never realised how much he had an effect on people. But the way Dick tries so hard to make you laugh, to comfort you, to be kind to you. Jason didn't like it.

He knew that the way Dick looked at you was not the way he looked at anyone else.

Dick looked at you with a sense of intense longing, an emotion that Jason knew all too well.

He looked at you the way a pained ex-boyfriend would look at their loved one with somebody else. The sad smile, the big round eyes, the slump of his back that said he was emotionally exhausted from loving you too much.

Jason didn't get it.

Dick could have anyone else, and he had everything going for him. Why does he need to want you?

Jason was the one who grew up with you, not him. Jason was the one who accompanied you when both his and your parents were high as kites, not him. Jason was the one that continued to be your best friend after Bruce took you in, not him. Jason was the one that convinced Bruce to train you as well, not him. Jason was the one who seeked you out and comforted you after he came back from the dead, not him. Jason was the one who fell in love with you from way back then, when you were both in Crime Alley, not him.

You starved together, picked pockets together, survived together.

Dick didn't understand what the two of you have been through. It was the only thing about his brother that he hated. If it was anyone else but you, he wouldn't have felt the need to spite Dick so much.

But it was you, after all, so Jason needed to make sure Dick knew that he wasn't about to let you go so easily.

*** Ding dong.

Jason made eye contact with Dick, who looked up at him over the kitchen counter, wide eyed.

“I’ll get it,” he said.

“No, I’ll get it,” Jason replied.

Jason narrowed his eyes at Dick, as Dick’s own became increasingly wider. They stared at each other for a moment, like a cowboy stand off, waiting for the other to make the first move.

Dick suddenly scrambled over in the direction of the main door, and Jason hurried after him.

“I said I don’t mind getting it, Jason!” Dick yelled over his shoulder, running through the dining room.

“No, please, let me!” Jason chased after him.

Both of them zoomed past Alfred, who was setting the dining table, shouting, “Really!”

The two of them approached the large, wooden, grand door of the manor, reaching out for the handle at the same time, and pulled it open to reveal you, slightly shocked and staring weirdly at the two panting men in front of you.

“Hey, babe,” Jason breathed, and swooped in for a peck on your lips.

“Hey, Jay,” you greeted back, “Hi, Dick.”

Dick just winked at you, leaning against the door frame, making you giggle slightly.

“Come in,” Jason suddenly scowled, moving out of the doorway for you.

Jason noticed that you had raised an eyebrow at his sudden shift in attitude, and he immediately gave you back an apologetic smile.

He saw you take a deep breath and smiled, “Dinner smells amazing. Where’s everyone?”

“They’re all helping out in the kitchen, but I think you can go straight to the dining room. Everything’s just about done,” Dick answered before Jason could open his mouth.

He gave Dick a glare.

“Okay, then,” you beamed at Dick, heading straight towards the dining room.

Jason didn’t have to show you around, because the manor was almost as much your home as it was his. You have been coming over ever since he was adopted. You trained alongside him under Batman after a year he was Robin, since he told you and you wanted to be included too.

But mostly because Jason felt bad if he were to abandon you to live on the streets, unprotected, when he was eating three hot meals a day served by a butler. Jason always felt like he needed to take care of you. But he wouldn’t be able to protect you from the people on the streets if he was busy with Batman. So he talked to Bruce and demanded that he trained you as well.

You proved to Bruce that you had what it takes. You were very smart, and strategic, and Bruce saw that you had a lot of potential. Although, it took longer for Bruce to train you, since you didn’t have basic fighting skills like Jason did.

That’s because it was always Jason that protected you in the streets.

When Jason had died, you were still under training.

When he returned, you were a well trained, extremely skilled, and brutal vigilante.

The manor was your second home. Jason made sure of that.

So why were you beaming at Dick like he was the one who was with you all those years?

“Hey,” you suddenly appeared close to Jason, making him jump at your sudden touch, knocking him back to reality. “You okay?”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he forced a smile, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you groaned, “I love it when you all get together and cook.”

“I know, princess, that’s why I invited you over,” he grinned.

“That’s bullshit, Todd,” Damian entered the dining room from behind you, “Father said that she’s part of the family, so she has to be here for anything and everything anyway. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

“Why hello to you too, Dames,” you smiled at the youngest Wayne. Jason knew you were extremely touched by what he had said, but knowing you, you didn’t show it. You were similar to Jason in that aspect. “Want to give me a hug?”

“I’m fourteen, not five,” he huffed, pulling out a chair from the long and polished mahogany dining table that was set with fine china and silver cutlery. Jason saw Damian blush slightly.

And apparently, so did you, because you whispered to Jason, “I think he has a crush on me.”

“Yeah, him and the whole damn world apparently,” he grumbled to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing. Here-” Jason pulled out a chair for you.

Before you could sit down, Bruce walked in. You politely greeted him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, like you would your father.

If Jason was being completely honest with himself, he couldn’t blame Dick or Damian, or anyone really, for falling in love with you. Jason knew you best after all, and he knew you were irresistible.

He loved your smile, your pretty face, your sexy body. He loved the way you laughed out loud at a lame pun or cried over sappy chick flicks. He loved that although you were kind, you were still suspicious of others until they proved themselves to you. Growing up on the streets did that to a person.

And he knew that everyone else saw you as this brutal, tough vigilante who doesn’t hesitate to fuck shit up- but Jason? Jason couldn’t help but remember you as this skinny, hungry girl with the red nose who would come running to his apartment window from the fire escape stairs whenever your parents fought.

He knew you best, and because of that, he felt like no one else deserved to be with you.

Least of all Dick Grayson- who never knew what it was like to hate the world.

Dinner was casual, as usual. Having you around made it feel like it was complete.

But Jason noticed that Dick kept on giving you glances from across the table, offering you gravy, passing you the butter, trying hard to make you laugh with his stupid fucking puns.

The stupid puns you found so funny.

Now you were talking to Dick, about some show. So Jason put his hand on your thigh. You jumped slightly, cutting off what you were going to say.

Dick narrowed his eyes at Jason.

“-uhm, yeah, I think you’d like it,” you continued, face suddenly going red.

“Well, I always watch whatever you recommend, you know that,” Dick smoothly flattered you.

“Speaking of shows, I brought some DVDs for us to watch later if you guys want to..?” you glanced at everyone.

“Ah, sorry. I have to finish up some blueprints,” Tim apologized, “I really would have loved to, though.”

“That’s okay,” you waved a hand in dismissal. You understood very well how Tim was occupied with work.

“I have a history paper to finish,” Damian groaned, “Unless-”

“No,” Bruce scolded his son, “Unless you want to sacrifice patrol night.”

“No,” Damian slumped in his seat.

“And you, Bruce? Or do you have Batman stuff?” you asked.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he said, “Sorry.”

“Well, I know Jay has nothing to do. How about you, Dick?” you looked at him hopefully.

Jason made a point to stare at Dick, giving him an intense “Don’t you dare” look.

Dick blinked once at Jason, and then turned to you and said, “I’d love to!”

“Yay!” you clapped your hands, “Just the three of us then. You guys would love it, it recently just won-”

Jason didn’t hear what awards your movie won, or how many times it was nominated- he was too busy stopping himself from punching his older brother in the face.

So there Jason was on one end of the sofa, and Dick on the opposite end. You were sandwiched in between them.

The movie was on, the room was dark, and you were concentrating intently despite it not being the first time you were watching it.

But you were the only one watching the movie, because Dick was stealing glances at you, and Jason was just glaring at him, practically daring him to make a move on you.

Jason did feel bad for not paying attention, though, since you were so excited. He made a mental note to watch it later.

Jason just couldn’t take it. Dick wasn’t even hiding the fact that he liked you. He needed to do something about his brother’s intentions.

“Hey, princess, you cold?” Jason whispered in your ear, stretching his arm behind your head to rest on the back of the sofa.

“A little, but it’s okay,” you whispered back, not taking your eyes off the screen.

“Then come closer,” he replied, pulling your waist with his other arm, to bring you closer to him. He saw you blushing slightly, letting out a small giggle.

He pulled the blanket that was hanging folded on the sofa arm and threw it over the two of you. He felt you cuddle up to him, more comfortable now there was a barrier to block Dick’s view of the two of you.

Jason waited patiently for about five minutes before he proceeded with his plan.

He leaned over to you and started nibbling on your earlobe, kissing your neck, sucking, licking, pulling, biting. All the while letting his hand on your waist rub up and down underneath the blanket.

“Jason!” you hissed at him, “We have company.”

“It’s just Dick,” he whined, “Dick doesn’t mind. Do you, Dick?”

Jason looked up at him. Dick stared, his jaw clenched.

“Whatever,” he managed to grit and then turned back to the screen.

“See, babe? It’s all good,” Jason continued his oral assault on your neck.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should go- oh,” you were suddenly cut off by the surprise you felt when Jason slipped his hand from your waist to underneath your skirt, brushing on your panty covered clit.

Jason didn’t hesitate to start rubbing, feeling your panties getting wetter and wetter by the second. He himself was getting hard.

Jason knew you had a little kink for voyeurism that you didn’t want to admit. He knew your search history, and he knew that you loved it when he watched you touch yourself.

He went a step further and pulled aside your panties, rubbing his finger up and down your wet folds. He smirked when he felt you part your legs.

Jason rested his chin on top of your head so he could look at his older brother, who obviously knew what was going on.

Dick was looking straight at the screen, but his hands were in fists on his lap, and his jaw clenching and unclenching. Jason slipped a finger inside your dripping, tight, and warm hole, eliciting a small moan from you.

Dick’s head snapped to the two of you with that sound.

Jason continued to pump his finger in and out of you, curling up at your sweet spot. Fuck, he was hard. And it wasn’t only because he had his fingers inside of you.

It was that he was finger fucking you in front of Dick, claiming you, making him watch him do things to you that Dick never would be able to.

He loved seeing his brother livid as he fucked your pussy with his now two fingers.

You were oblivious to the exchange. You were still pretending to watch the movie, even though your pants were loud and your moans were hardly subtle. Even though the sound of your wet pussy could be heard.

Jason felt your walls grow tighter and tighter, knowing you were about to cum, so he sped up, not giving a fuck that the violent movement of his arm was slowly slipping the blanket off.

You gasped, and then clamped your mouth with your hand, your eyes tight shut.

He watched Dick watch you cum, smirking to himself.

And then Dick left.

Jason was slowly pumping you, bringing you down. Once you were grounded, Jason took out his fingers, and then licked them, savouring your sweet taste.

“Oh my god,” you whispered frantically, “Oh my god, do you think he noticed?”

“No, you were good at hiding,” Jason lied, winking at you, “He just forgot he promised to help Bruce with something.”

“Did he actually say that?” you looked at him, worry in your eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t you hear?” Jason cocked an eyebrow.

He felt bad lying to you. But he had to. He had to man up and show Dick who you belonged to.

“No, I didn’t,” you realised, “Wow. That was- wow.”

Jason kissed you on the temple, “You enjoyed that, babe?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “I didn’t think having someone there that might catch you would make it so exciting.”

“Knew you were a voyeur,” he pinched your cheeks.

“Shut up!” you groaned, embarrassed, “Hey! Were you even watching the movie?”

“No,” Jason admitted guiltily, “But I promise you that I’m going to watch it soon, okay?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“I promise!” Jason insisted, “I couldn’t help it. I missed you.”

“We just saw each other last night during patrol,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but I didn’t get to touch you, baby girl,” he told you, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few days. I miss making you scream my name.”

You blushed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Jason started.

“What?”

“What do you think of Dick?” he cringed internally, mentally slapping himself for sounding so desperately insecure.

“Dick?” you repeated in surprise, “He’s great. I mean, he was there for me when you weren’t… alive. Tim, too.”

“Yeah, no, I meant like,” Jason hesitated, “Looks wise?”

“Jason, are you asking me if I find your brother hot?” you started to break into a cheeky grin.

“So what if I am?” Jason huffed defensively.

“I think he’s a good looking guy,” you said truthfully, entertained by your boyfriend’s sudden question, “But so is Tim. And Damian. And you. It’s like Bruce adopted all of you solely based on looks. Except Damian, of course. Bruce has himself to be proud of.”

“So you think Dick’s good looking, then?” Jason grumbled, ignoring everything else you just said, “Of course you do.”

“Jason,” you sighed, “Yes, I think Dick’s good looking, but only a blind person wouldn’t think that. Look. I didn’t fall in love with you because of your looks- although that played a major factor too. You wanna know how I fell in love with you?”

Jason just pouted at you.

“Because of this,” you poked a finger at Jason’s forehead, near his temple and slightly into his hairline, “It’s not there anymore because of the Pit, but you used to have a small scar there. You got it because some asshole in the alley cut you with a blade. You were defending me. He was going to hurt me.”

Jason now looked at you, softening his expression. Yes, he remembered that. If he hadn’t jumped in front of you in time and blocked the strike, the man would have slashed your neck.

“And this,” you bunched up his shirt, revealing his chest.

“You like my bod a lot, huh, princess?” he smirked.

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” you rolled your eyes, “Here, here, and here.”

You poked three of his ribs.

“You cracked your ribs in three places because you got beaten up trying to pickpocket some brute. We weren’t starving that night, but I told you that I wanted to have a milkshake,” you softly smiled at the memory, “So you went and tried to get some money for me.”

Jason remembered that all too well. The two of you couldn’t have been older than ten. You had a sad look in your eyes when you said that you never tried the famous strawberry milkshake at Jackie’s diner. Jason never tried it too, but his heart broke when he saw you look like that.

Jason never told you, but after he came back from the hospital, his dad had beat him again while he was still injured because he got into trouble.

“That’s my point, Jason,” you explained, “I didn’t fall in love over some shallow thing like your good looks or sexy body. That’s not love. I fell in love with you every single time you had a new scar or cast on you- any stupid injury you got because you were trying to look out for me.”

Jason looked at you and took everything in. Your eyes were wide and watery, conveying every single emotion that he needed to hear from you.

“So get over Dick, okay?” you comforted him.

“Yeah, okay,” he nodded and gave you a warm kiss.

He never doubted your love for him. Nor your attraction. Even if he did, it was all gone now. But the problem still remained. Dick was still looking at you, Dick was still wanting you. And Jason still needed to show Dick who you belonged to.

***

Jason fucking hated Gotham.

The high crime rates only showed how many scum of the Earth lived there- and the stats were definitely lower than reality.

Reality is that the big crime bosses were wealthy families with old inheritance, passed down from generation to generation. Their families were the ones who built Gotham up- not unlike the Waynes themselves.

The stats never mentioned the rich. They were safe in their own mansions and yachts. No, it was people like Jason that received the bad end of their organized crime. They were the ones who hired the petty criminals to do their dirty work. And violence just bred more violence.

And what happened to the ones who couldn’t defend themselves in midst of all that chaos?

Jason happened. You happened. Two starving children with shitbag parents trying to make it day by day, exchanging what little they could afford with each other in dark alleys similar to the one Jason was overlooking from the roof then.

Jason glared down at the empty alleyway, and then turned to grapple to another, higher rooftop.

There, he strutted to the edge of the roof, leaning on a raised cement ledge that was as tall as his hips, overlooking the zooming traffic on the street below.

It was sort of peaceful, Gotham at night. Despite the increase in criminal activity, he hated to admit that he thought the city was almost beautiful when the sun goes down.

He glanced at the building on the other side of the street. He saw a movement there. Through his helmet, he zoomed in his lenses like a pair of binoculars, and saw Nightwing.

“Hey,” a voice came from behind him all of a sudden which made him jump slightly.

He turned and saw you strutting towards him in your tight, black vigilante suit, wearing a black domino mask with white lenses to protect your identity. The suit stuck to your skin at your arms, legs, and ass. Your abdomen was protected by kevlar that was sewed fashionably well onto your suit, still accentuating your breasts and the curve of your waist.

Jason loved your suit.

He glanced back at the building across the street, and seeing Nightwing was still there, cocking his head to one side and looking at the both of you curiously.

An idea popped into Jason’s head.

He rushed to you, taking off his helmet in the process. He still wore a domino mask similar to yours underneath, with special white lenses as well.

“What are you up t- mmpf,” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Jason had grabbed your face with both his hands and attacked your lips with his.

While he was prodding his tongue at your mouth, he swiftly pressed a button on the earpiece in his ear, tuning him into Nightwing’s frequency, so he could hear everything that was happening.

“Woah, Jay,” you flushed, “What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“Take off your mask, I want to see your eyes,” he panted at you, ripping off the mask from your face. The real reason was that he didn’t want you to see Dick from across the street. Dick was invisible to the naked eye from that distance and dim lighting.

“Babe,” he groaned, and kissed you again, pulling your hips into his own and grinding his now half hard cock on your stomach. “Baby girl, I need you.”

“Now?” your voice rose a pitch , “Here?”

“Why not?” he grinned, “It’s not like anyone’s here. Besides, you like it a little bit public, don’t you?”

You turned a shade red when he mentioned that.

“So you up for it?” he asked you.

You looked him in the eyes for a few moments, and then gave him a tiny, shy nod.

The moment you agreed, he lifted you up in a fireman’s carry, and walked over to the edge of the roof, facing Dick, who was still watching the two of you from that distance.

Before setting you down on the ledge, he gave your latex covered ass a slap, drawing out a moan from you.

“This ass is mine,” he spoke out loud, giving you another spank. He was addressing Dick, who was now standing up erect, hands curled into fists.

“Jason,” he heard Dick’s voice in his earpiece, “Stop.”

He ignored Dick and set you to sit down on the ledge, facing him. He gave you another searing kiss, relishing the taste of you while looking for the hidden zipper at the front of your suit. He zipped your front down and down, all the way to your belly button.

“Fuck,” he gasped, “Don’t you wear a bra out on patrols?”

He grabbed a fist full of your right breast and squeezed.

“The kevlar breastplate is enough support,” you explained, “I don’t need to wear a- ah!”

Jason had attacked your nipple with his mouth, sucking and nibbling on it while his hand massaged your other breast.

“Your tits are so fucking amazing,” he choked, “I always can’t get enough of them.”

He then licked your skin from the valley of your breasts all the way up to your neck.

“And the taste of your sweat is intoxicating,” he exhales.

“You’re being descriptive tonight,” you giggled.

Jason stood up straight and said with a sudden serious expression on his face, “I just want you to know everything I see, smell, taste, feel, and hear. I want you to know what you fucking do to me. I want you to know how I fucking worship you.”

“Well, when you put it that way,” your breath hitched at his words, and you pulled him in for another kiss, “Fuck me, Jason. Please.”

“Fuck,” he growled, “Get out of that suit and bend over. Put your hands on the ledge. I want Gotham to see your tits.”

“What the fuck, Jason,” Dick’s voice appeared in his ear again.

While you were busy taking off your suit, Jason glanced again at the building and zoomed in to Dick’s face. Jason could see his jaw clenching and unclenching, the fury in his scowl.

Yet, Dick still didn’t look away.

You were naked now, and you bent over, showing your ass to Jason, and unknowingly revealing your tits to Dick. Jason unzipped his pants and took his hard, leaking cock out, already extremely sensitive to the touch.

He lined the tip to your entrance, teasing you a bit and rubbing your leaking juices all over his cock. You moaned again softly.

Jason looked at Dick, and gave him a shit eating grin, and then plunged himself into your wet tight hole. The both of you groaned at the feeling.

“Fuck,” you bit your lips.

“Don’t hold back, princess,” Jason breathed, “I want you to be as loud as you can. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Fuck!” you moaned louder when Jason slipped his cock out and then thrusted in again, bottoming out.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, “That’s my good girl.”

You whimpered.

“Are you ready, baby?” Jason asked you, not needing to clarify. You knew how he fucked. And you were always ready for it.

“Yes, Jason, please!” you cried.

Jason put both his hands on your hips, and then started pummeling into you like a fuck machine.

You gripped the ledge tight, and started screaming in pleasure.

“Fuck, your pussy always feels so good,” he panted while drilling into you.

Jason could imagine Dick’s view. He’s fucked you doggystyle in front of the mirror before. He knew how your tits would look like as he fucked you from behind- and it was a damn amazing view.

The adrenaline and ecstasy that Jason felt made him almost forget about everything.

“She’s fucking mine,” he accidentally roared before realising his mistake.

“I’m yours, Jason,” he heard you sob, apparently oblivious to his slip.

It made Jason bolder.

He stopped fucking you and you took out his cock from your pussy with a pop, making you whine in protest.

“Put your feet on the ledge, baby,” he ordered, “Squat on the ledge. I want to show off your cunt.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall,” he added when you looked back at him in worry.

He lifted you on the raised ledge, and snaked his arms around your waist, balancing you while you spread your legs in a squat.

Jason silently thanked his genes for making him tall enough to be able to fuck you in that position. He pushed in his cock and groaned into the crook of your neck, and then started to thrust up into you.

He let one hand down to your pussy and started circling your swollen nub with his finger while he continued to drill you.

“Fuck!” you screamed, “Jason! Fuck that feels amazing, don’t stop!”

“Whose pussy is this, baby?” he gave you a light slap on your clitoris, making you automatically clench on his cock even tighter, feeling the waves of electrical pleasure spark through his body.

“Yours, Jason, this pussy is yours,” you sobbed, completely giving into him.

“That’s right. This. Pussy. Is. Mine,” he slapped your cunt with every word.

“You’ve made your point, Jason,” he heard Dick grit in his ear. He chuckled into your neck at his victory. Jason knew that voice. It was the sound of his older brother breaking.

“Jason, please,” you begged, “I need to cum, please.”

“Okay, sweetheart, cum with me,” Jason started to thrust faster into you and rubbing your clitoris faster and faster. He felt you tighten around him, eliciting a long groan from him. The walls of your cunt was massaging and squeezing his shaft, his head was pushing against that spot he knew you made you go wild.

“Jason! Fuck, Jason! Jay! Fuck!” your screams and cries and sobs turned silent, and he felt your pussy flutter on his cock.

At the same time, Jason felt his peak approaching, heat spreading from his toes and black spots started to cloud his vision when he finally regained the sense to take his cock out and spill his cum all over your back in pulses.

You immediately fell back onto him from the ledge, legs weak. He caught you in his arms and chuckled into the hair on the top of you head, giving you a kiss there.

He pushed the button in his ear to disconnect the frequency with Dick. He made his point already.

Feeling suddenly exposed, you hurriedly put your suit back on and leaned into Jason’s chest in an embrace.

“That was amazing, baby girl,” Jason sighed, “Thank you.”

“Yeah, that was pretty awesome,” you grinned, “So where is he?”

Jason froze.

“What?”

“Dick, where’s Dick? Wasn’t this all for him?” you raised an eyebrow.

“You knew?” Jason gaped.

“Of course I knew, I’m not stupid,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Jason sputtered, “I shouldn’t have- I just wanted to- fuck, baby, I’m so-”

“Shh,” you held a finger to his lips, “I know you. You couldn’t just ask me to do this, what with your emotional constipation. I’m the same, remember?”

“Still,” he let out a breath, “I should have asked.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled sweetly at him, “You didn’t want to seem insecure. I get that. That’s why we’re together.”

Jason pursed his lips in worry, thinking how on Earth did he deserve such an amazing human being like you.

“Now where is he-” you put on your mask and started looking around, “Ah, there he- oh.”

You suddenly turned your head back, blushing furiously.

“Wha?” Jason looked over and zoomed to the building where he saw Dick leaning on the roof door to the stairwell of the building, his cock in his fists, furiously jerking himself off in obvious anger.

“I can’t blame him,” Jason chuckled, “We gave him quite a show.”

He saw that you were still blushing, your eyes wide.

“Babe,” he started slowly, tilting your chin up to look him in the eye, “Do you like the fact that my brother is jerking off to us fucking?”

“What? No- no, of course- no, he’s your-” you stuttered.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jason coaxed you, “Come on, I know you like it when I watch you. I know you just like being watched. That’s okay.”

“Really?” you anxiously asked.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s Dick. As much as I hate him for wanting you, I trust him not to do anything. That’s why I was fine with showing you off to him. I just needed to claim my territory,” he gave you a wicked grin.

“I guess,” you said, unsure.

“You’re okay with me doing that just now? You’re not mad?” Jason asked again.

“No, I’m not. Like I said, I enjoyed it. I just- I just feel bad for enjoying it, you know?” you bit your lip.

Jason pulled you into another embrace, breathing in your scent.

“Don’t be. It’s who you are. And you know what? I like showing you off. You’re someone everyone wants but can’t have, because you’re mine,” Jason told you, “But only to Dick, though. I’m not sure if I want a stranger seeing you naked.”

“I wouldn’t want that too,” you agreed, “It’s fine because it’s Dick. I feel bad for him, though.”

“He deserves it,” Jason grit.

“He can’t help his feelings, Jason,” you frowned at him.

“I know, I know,” Jason sighed, “But I couldn’t help but claim you, as well.”

You smiled at him endearingly, the smile Jason loved so much.

“Don’t worry about it, Jay,” you pecked him on the lips, “It’s us against the world, remember? You and me. Always have been, always will.”

“Yeah,” Jason kissed you back, “Just you and me.”

[remywrites5]

Hey sup I LOOOOVE spideypool and was wondering if you could do a soulmark spideypool fic cause you're the best writer I know it's ok if you dint want to tho🙂

            It should have been a comfort after Vanessa died that Wade still had someone else’s name on his wrist. It wasn’t. Her name was still there like an ugly reminder of just what he’d lost when she’d been killed. He’d trace it sometimes, the curly lettering of the N swooping into the E. It felt almost like it was mocking him.

           The two names on his wrist had been the only thing that hadn’t been fucked up by his skin. It was like not even Weapon X could destroy that one part of him. While the skin around it matched the rest there was one perfect circle of skin that remained un-uglied. A circle with two names.

           Vanessa and Peter.

           While Vanessa’s name on his wrist was all loopy and pretty, Peter’s name looked like chicken scratch. Messy and jagged like it was written in a hurry. Wade had spent a lot of time very deliberately not thinking about Peter. Vanessa had known right from the beginning that Wade had two names on his arm. She’d never really said anything about it, just making the occasional joke about threesomes. But Vanessa didn’t have Peter’s name on her wrist, she only had Wade’s.

           Now Wade knew why and that was so fucked up.

           A part of him hoped he’d never meet Peter. For one, it felt shitty to move on from Vanessa no matter how many times he touched other people’s butts. Also it wasn’t like he was in the mood to meet another soulmate just to lose them. People around Wade had a tendency to die and he didn’t think he could handle it if he found Peter just to be the reason he got killed too.

           (But he’ll be perfect for us! Just like Vanessa was!)

           {Besides, all this moping is getting pathetic.}

           (I bet Peter’s hot.)

           {Not too hot or he won’t want anything to do with our fucked up face.}

           (He will because he’s our soulmate!)

                                                           ***

           Peter sighed restlessly and turned over in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d gotten all of two hours of sleep and his eyes felt heavy. Patrol had kept him out later than usual when he’d found some arms dealer selling in Central Park. He’d managed followed them back to their base of operations all the way down in the Bronx. He’d spent the rest of his night fighting bad guys and webbing them up. Of course it would have taken him half the time if Deadpool hadn’t shown up.

           They’d spent almost the entire time passing quips back and forth and arguing. Peter hadn’t been sure if Deadpool had been there to buy weapons or to stop them. That was the problem with Deadpool, you never really knew who his allegiance was to. It was why even though Peter liked Deadpool, purely for his sense of humor, he really couldn’t trust him. And maybethe way Deadpool was always complimenting him was flattering.

           He’d ended up leaving Deadpool webbed with all the other bad guys because he hadn’t really known what else to do. Deadpool was dangerous and a mercenary. He couldn’t just let him go.

           Peter turned on his side and slid the sleeve of his hoodie down. He traced Gwen’s name for what felt like the millionth time, ignoring the name beneath it. He had never thought he’d lose his soulmate when he was only seventeen and he wondered if it was why the universe had given him two names. But even though it had been three years since Gwen had died, it still felt weird to think about being with someone else. He’d tried with MJ and that hadn’t exactly worked out and not just because they didn’t have each other’s names on their arms.

           Peter didn’t like having to keep secrets but that was the nature of being Spider-man. Not being each other’s soulmates basically meant that MJ had very little reason to put up with Peter’s bullshit for very long. Being Spider-man meant that Peter had a lot of bullshit to carry around.

           Even though there was a second name on his wrist, Peter couldn’t imagine anyone putting up with his lifestyle for long. Whoever Wade was, Peter almost felt bad for him.

                                                           ***

           “Hi baby boy!” Deadpool cooed, skipping over to Spider-man and putting his head on his shoulder. It was the sixth time they had met – yes, Wade was keeping count – and Wade hoped this time would end better than the time when he’d been left webbed to a wall with a bunch of scumbags. It would have been a great Saturday night if it was just been the two of them.

           “Deadpool,” Spider-man said, shoving Wade away. “I’m surprised they called you in for this.”

           Wade shrugged. “Guess it’s an all hands on deck kind of situation. Speaking of, I’ve got dos manos if you ever need them.” Wade did spirit fingers at Spidey. “You know, for backrubs, holding your spider-purse, anything you need I’ve got two thumbs, eight other varying digits and I’m your guy.”

           “Thanks, I’ll, um, keep that in mind?”

           Wade snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t miss the way Spidey seemed to be checking out his biceps. “So is this alien invasion of the cuter variety? Because I’ve got to say I don’t think I have the heart to shoot E.T. Alf maybe and that Mac and Me fucker definitely but not E.T.”

           “So you’ll kill people no problem but you draw the line at lovable aliens?” Spider-man asked, putting his hands on his hips disapprovingly.

           “You’re not an alien are you?” Wade asked, worrying he might have offended Spidey. “Don’t worry, baby boy, even if you were an alien you’d definitely be of the cute variety. I could never shoot you even if you had antennae and like eight eyes. Do you? I mean you could have anything under that mask.”

           “No, I’m not an alien,” Spider-man said with an amused huff of breath. “And just the two eyes.”

           “Oh good,” Wade said, wiping his brow in relief. “Not that I’m above fucking an alien. If it was good enough for Captain Kirk it’s good enough for me. I would have fucked Worf any day of the week.”

           “That was next Gen.”

           “Oh my god,” Wade said, squealing slightly. “I think I just got an erection.” He glanced down at his crotch and yup that was definitely half a chode at least.

           “And on that note…” Spider-man said, walking away from Wade. Wade cocked his head to the side and watched him walk away, blatantly staring at his ass because damn!

           (break us off a piece of that!)

           {Spidey is such a babe. Bet he’s got someone amazing on his arm!}

           (Maybe it’s Black Widow. Arachnid buddies!)

           Wade followed after Spidey, keeping an eye on his booty as he walked, singing Bootylicious under his breath, unable to help himself. That spandex was hugging Spidey in all the right places. When they got to where the rest of the heroes were huddled up he finally looked away or it was going to go from a half to a whole. “Ooh first day of superhero camp! If we’re doing team games I call anyone with that maximum power level. I want to be team captain so I get to pick first! Thor, buddy, you’re with me. Brawn and beauty, the perfect combo!”

           “Wilson, if you don’t mind,” Nick Fury said with a heavy sigh. “I’d like to start the debriefing.”

           “I call dibs on debriefing Spidey!” Wade called out, putting his arm around Spider-man. Spidey turned and scowled at Wade. He couldn’t tell for sure with the mask on but it definitely felt like a scowl. For his part, Fury was also scowling at Wade. “Oops, sorry Mace Windu, master. The floor is yours.”

           Fury continued to glare for a moment and then looked around at the other heroes. “According to Danvers the aliens have just entered our atmosphere and are headed this way.”

           Wade kind of spaced out for the rest of the explanation. He wasn’t much of a team player anyway and was going to do his own thing. When everyone started to break away, Wade pulled his katanas from their holsters and flipped them once. He glanced up at the sky just as a few large ships appeared. “We’re going to live on! We’re going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence day!”

           “Easy for you to say, man,” Clint said over the coms. “Of course you’re going to survive.”

           “Yo bird man!” Wade exclaimed happily. “Didn’t see you earlier. How’s the wifey and kids?”

           “Not bad,” Clint responded. “Good to see you out here with us.”

           “Clear the coms, please,” Fury said, clearing his throat pointedly.

           Wade rolled his eyes and got ready for the action. A few nasty alien bastards landed near him and he grinned with excitement. “Let’s get ready to rumble!” he shouted, running towards them at full speed.

                                                           ***

           Peter had just barely missed being shot by a laser gun thanks to his Spidey sense. He did a leap in the air to get out of the way and then shot a web to the gun, yanking it out of the alien’s hand and sending it flying towards another one’s head. He was just about to shoot a web towards its foot to knock it off its feet when he heard something in his earpiece.

           “Wade!” Hawkeye shouted. Peter was so caught off guard that he missed and ended up webbing the space next to the alien he’d been aiming at. He quickly shot out a few more webs to contain them and then went to the edge of the building he was standing on to get a good look down below. His eyes narrowed on Clint who was kneeling down besides Deadpool. “Hey Wade, man, you okay?”

           Peter’s feet stumbled underneath him as he shot out a web and swung down to where Wade was laying in the alley. “Oh hey, baby boy, you didn’t have to come down here. I’ll be fine. Honestly you two make such a fuss over me, it’s embarrassing.”

           “Your name is Wade?” Peter asked, blinking slowly, his mind still processing.

           “Yeah,” Wade said, coughing slightly as he sat up. “I thought everyone knew that. Not like I have a secret identity like you, pookie.”

           Clint seemed to think Wade was in good hands because he got gracefully back to his feet and took off running back to the fray. Wade’s suit was torn slightly from where he’d been blasted by their laser guns and he had a rip right by his wrist. Peter couldn’t help rolling his eyes at that. Fate or some such nonsense was clearly intervening.

           “You doing okay, Spidey?” Wade asked when Peter didn’t say anything. Peter reached out and pushed Wade’s suit up his arm to reveal his name – or names – as it turned out.

           Peter swallowed, his throat suddenly thick with emotion. “Hi,” he said softly. “I’m Peter.”

           Wade’s jaw dropped. “No way. You can’t be serious… but you wouldn’t joke about something like that, would you baby?”

           Peter shook his head just as an explosion happened above their heads. “Shit, this is the worst fucking time. But you heal and I’ll go and help and we’ll talk later, right?”

           “Of course.”

           Peter nodded and shot out a web, crawling up the wall on the outside of the building to get back into the thick of it. It felt wrong leaving his soulmate injured in an alleyway but he didn’t have much choice. Sometimes saving the world could be so inconvenient.

                                                           ***

           Wade was swooning, actual honest to God swooning for real. Not only was Spider-man (Peter!) his soulmate, but he was also carrying Wade home like a damsel in distress. It was the greatest moment of Wade’s life. “Fucking laser guns!” Wade said, looking down at his charred suit. “They seem so fun in the Goldeneye game. Not so much in real life.”

           Peter set Wade down by the front door and then unlocked his apartment. Wade couldn’t believe he was actually going to get to see where Spidey lived!

           (This is the best day of our life like ten times over!)

           {We got to play with the Avengers, Spidey is our soulmate and we get to see the Bat Cave. So cool!}

           “So…” Peter said, pulling off his mask and throwing it onto the couch. He turned and Wade got the first good look at his soulmate.

           “Oh fuck!” Wade said, putting his hand over his mouth.

           “What?” Peter asked, blushing like a damn cartoon prince.

           “You’re fucking hot!” Wade said, throwing his hands up in the air over his head in exasperation. “How is that possible?”

           Peter chuckled and shook his head. “Shut up. We should probably talk about some stuff, don’t you think?”

           “Or we could skip right to the kissing part,” Wade offered with a shrug. He really didn’t want to relive his whole tragic backstory but he knew Peter wasn’t going to just let it go, especially now that he’d seen the other name on Wade’s wrist. “I’m guessing you want to know about Vanessa, right? Ex-girlfriend, love of my life, all that jazz. Knew her before I got cancer, left to go join Weapon X, got a whole heap of fuckery for my trouble, saved her life when the baddies got her, didn’t save her the second time when some chucklefucks showed up at our apartment. Tried to kill myself. Tried to kill myself some more. Saved a kid. Went to TGI Fridays. I think that about catches you up to speed.”

           “I’m sorry,” Peter said, shuffling awkwardly. “Uh my turn, I guess? Bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip to Oscorp. My uncle got shot and I became obsessed with trying to find the guy that did it. Became Spider-man. Fought some baddies. One was a giant lizard man.” Peter pulled one of his gloves off and walked over, showing Wade his wrist with two names, just like Wade’s. “Fell in love with my classmate Gwen. Turned out she was my soulmate, or at least one of them. She was killed and I couldn’t save her. That was about three years ago. Haven’t been to a TGI Fridays in years though.”

           “This is going to be a disaster, Peter, you know that, right?” Wade said, gently wrapping his hand around Peter’s wrist.

           Peter laughed softly. “There’s not much in my life that isn’t a disaster, honestly.”

           “Sounds like we’re perfect for each other then,” Wade managed to joke. He felt overwhelmed being faced with his name on Peter’s wrist. All the time he’d spent hoping he’d never find Peter and keep whoever it was safe from him. Now it turned out it was a fucking superhero.

           “Can I see your face?” Peter asked, taking a step closer to Wade.

           “I don’t know…”

           “Please?” Peter begged, his big eyes like a god damn anime character. Wade didn’t have the strength to say no to him. With his free hand, he pulled the mask off in one go like a bandaid, getting it over with as soon as possible. He stood there uncomfortably as Peter stared up at him, his eyes roving all over Wade’s face, taking it in. “Does it hurt?”

           “Yeah,” Wade responded, unable to lie about it. He wanted Peter to know the truth. He wanted Peter to know everything. Just the small point of contact of his hand on Peter’s wrist was sending little shivers up and down Wade’s arm. “But I’ve learned to live with it.”

           Peter nodded. “I guess we’ve both kind of learned to live with a lot of things.”

           “I guess so,” Wade concurred, taking a step closer to Peter because it seemed like the thing to do. “Maybe we should start a dead girlfriends club.”

           “Sounds depressing,” Peter said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. He sighed heavily and dropped his head onto Wade’s chest. “I miss Gwen a lot but I’m so tired of feeling like this. I want something good, you know? Something that doesn’t make me feel like shit all the time.”

           “Yeah, that’s how I feel,” Wade said, bringing his hand up and running his fingers through Peter’s hair. “That sounds good. Not sure I know how to do that though.”

           “Mm,” Peter hummed, lifting his head up slightly until it was buried in Wade’s neck. ”Well this is nice. We could just keep doing this.”

           “I think I could handle that, baby boy,” Wade said, bringing his other arm around Peter and holding him. He felt Peter melt against him with their suits pressed together. Peter was a good head shorter than him and it made him look so small and precious. Wade couldn’t believe this kid actually went out and fought crime on a regular basis.

           Peter lifted his chin up and stared at Wade. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I’d really like to get out of my suit.”

           Wade smirked. “And what wrong way would that be?”

           Peter snorted. “We’re not having sex, Wade. But I believe someone mentioned a backrub.” Peter grabbed Wade’s arm and slowly began to back them up towards what Wade could only assume was the bedroom.

           “Sorry, all I heard was having sex,” Wade joked, following after Spidey willingly. Already he couldn’t think of anything he wouldn’t do for him. Christ, he’d forgotten what this felt like, the crazy blissful happiness of falling for someone new. He’d thought he was done with all that mushy bullshit but here he as turning back into a marshmallow.

           Peter stopped in the door way and tugged Wade forward. “Behave yourself,” Peter said, pushing up onto his tiptoes and kissing Wade sweetly on the lips. Wade’s eyes widened in surprise at the contact.

           “What fun would that be?” Wade quipped, ducking his head down and kissing Peter again, those same shivers now surging through his entire body and the name on his wrist tingling. As much as he had been dreading finding his second soulmate, he had to admit this had turned out better than he’d ever dared to hope for. He kissed Peter again, just because he could, wishing that against the odds he could keep this one good thing.

[staystrange]

happy halloveen | chapter 3: bonus

Jake and Amy’s individual POVs of the HalloVeen episode, but with way more backstory, plus a bonus chapter. I just wish the episode was longer than twenty minutes so the writers could have fit even more details into the episode!! But since they couldn’t, I wrote them myself : )

read on ao3 | ff.net | wattpad

Jake and Amy were the last to leave Shaw’s that night.

They didn’t even notice that everyone had left at first; they were too busy with each other, still absorbing the fact that they were actually engaged. Charles was treating everyone to drinks in celebration of their engagement, and normally Jake never passed up free drinks, but tonight was certainly not normal. He turned away from the bar after just two beers; he wanted to remember every single second of this, and there was no way he’d be able to if he didn’t stay sober. It was hard for Jake to care when Amy was replacing every drink he would have had with kisses and “I love you”s.

Amy. She’d barely left his side all night, leaning into Jake when he gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She too was insistent on remembering this night at Shaw’s, so the squad only got to see One-Drink Amy that night, much to Rosa’s disappointment. “Going out for drinks isn’t any fun if you guys don’t drink,” she mumbled, but even she couldn’t hide the grin threatening to emerge on her lips.

Everyone in the squad had snuck occasional (constant, in Charles’s case) glances at the newly-engaged couple throughout the night, but Jake and Amy only had eyes for each other.  For Jake, the way her eyes shone brighter than the stars (whether from the light in the bar or from the tears or both, Jake couldn’t tell), the way her hair was just slightly rumpled from when he ran his fingers through her hair, and the way her fingers were threaded through his own, the two stones on the ring glittering. For Amy, the way he couldn’t keep that one dopey expression of disbelief off of his face; the way he couldn’t stop saying, “oh my God, you’re my fiancée” over and over again; and the way he unconsciously rubbed circles into her back, tethering her back to reality when she got lost in daydreams about what their wedding would be like. Granted, she did already have a wedding binder prepared at home, but there was no shame in adding to it.

The night had been spent talking about their relationship, slow dancing together on the makeshift dance floor to super cheesy songs, and just enjoying the company of everyone around them. The Nine-Nine were Jake and Amy’s family, and they were so happy they were sharing this milestone in their lives with them.

Eventually, the night crept into morning, and the bar had to close. Jake and Amy were both genuinely surprised at how much time had passed without them noticing and at the fact that everyone had left without saying goodbye (“We did!” Charles protested later when Jake asked him about it. “You guys were just too focused on each other to hear us.” Rosa backed him up.) When the bartender that night apologetically told them that they had to leave, they both just smiled, grabbed their jackets, and walked out of the bar, hands swinging between them.

When they arrived home, Jake took off his jacket and watched as Amy carefully hung hers up in the small coat closet by the front door of the apartment. He wanted more than anything to just make out with her (and, most likely, more, at least if Amy wanted to), but more than that, he just wanted to talk to her with the covers pulled over them, their bodies radiating heat. Amy turned to him, smiling when she saw him just standing there, lost in thought, that dopey expression back on his face.

“What are you thinking about, babe?” Amy asked, smiling softly at Jake.

“Just how much I love you,” he replied. He hung up his jacket and took Amy’s hand. “Want to lie down for a while?”

Amy raised her eyebrows suggestively, but Jake shook his head, and Amy nodded. “Sure.”

Amy let him lead her to their bed, pulling the perfectly made covers back and gesturing to the spot where Amy slept every night. Jake climbed into the other side of the bed, and Amy gently lay her head down against his chest. Her right arm was hidden by the thick blankets, but she proudly displayed her left hand in between them, changing the angle of her hand so the light reflected pretty patterns from the ring onto the walls. “How long did you have this planned?” she said quietly.

“Well,” Jake began, “as I said earlier, I got the general idea on April 28. But I didn’t think of the actual proposal idea until I was in prison.” Amy audibly gasped, and Jake bit his lip in thought, the memories of his time in jail still fresh and vivid in his mind. “Planning the intricate details of it got me through each day I was locked in there.”

“Babe,” Amy said, reaching for his right hand with her left, the ring cold against his skin. “That’s all over now. What matters is that you’re safe and that we’re together and that we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.” She couldn’t help but grin.

“Heck yeah we are!” Jake replied. “But yeah, I had a whole document filled with ideas before I left; I would have made an idea binder for you to keep afterward, but you would have discovered it and figured my plans out in about five seconds, so I hid it on my laptop instead. Not as fun, but definitely more practical. I can’t believe it took me until I was alone in prison to think of proposing on Halloween. I couldn’t believe I had actually managed to think of the perfect proposal idea. And the worst part was that I didn’t have any paper to write on. Do you know how difficult it is to plan something without paper to write on? It’s difficult, let me tell you.” His eyes softened. “But seriously, I just kept reminding myself that whether I stayed there for a month or fifteen years, you would still be here when I got back, and I would propose to you during the next Halloween Heist.”

“And you did.” Amy glanced down at the ring on her finger.

“Yeah.” Jake beamed. “I did.” He looked down at their intertwined fingers, rubbing his thumb gently over the soft skin of her hand.

“You know, I didn’t expect to ever get engaged,” Amy said suddenly, Jake looking up at her with crinkled skin between his furrowed eyebrows, “at least not to someone I actually loved.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I always thought being truly happy about getting married was only for beautiful, perfect girls with perfect lives who found their fairytale happy ending while they were still really young.” She pulled her hand away from Jake’s for a moment to tuck her hair behind both of her ears, returning her hand to its place in his once she finished. “When I turned thirty, I thought that was it for me. Every relationship I’d ever had was so wrong, like, it looked good to everyone else, but to me, I felt like I was forcing myself to love every single one of those men. I would keep the relationship going with them until it felt like it was getting too serious, at which point I would come up with some dumb excuse to break up and plan it out so I didn’t upset the guy too much. Sometimes, they even broke up with me first. They told me I was too nerdy, too weird, too obsessed with Jeopardy! for her own good.” Her next breath was shaky, whether from sadness or happiness, she couldn’t tell. “When I started dating Teddy, I knew a few months in that I didn’t love him, but I figured he was my best option. I was all set to let him propose to me and call it quits, but then you swooped in and ruined everything.” She grinned, and so did Jake.

“Ruined everything, huh?”

“Mmhmm,” Amy replied. “But then I fell in love with you, and I finally understood what people meant when they talked about love. And then you proposed, and now I’m getting the happy ending I never even dreamed that I could have.” Jake kissed her temple gently, pulling her closer. “Sorry that I just brought all of that up and ruined our perfect night.”

“Who said anything about tonight be ruined? And who said ruining something was a bad thing?” Jake pointed out, and Amy laughed. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

“Thank you for finally getting your act together and kissing me in the evidence room,” Amy replied.

“Thank you for putting up with my crazy.”

“Thank you for putting up with my crazy.”

“I love you, Amy.”

“Noice. Smort. I love you too, Jake.”

“Hey, I just realized,” Jake said suddenly. “We need to cross ‘get engaged’ off of the life plan.” He reached into the drawer in his bedside table, shuffling everything around a bit until he found a Sharpie. He carefully stood up on the bed, pulling Amy to her feet beside him. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“I would love to,” Amy replied. She took the Sharpie from Jake’s hand and filled in the box next to the words “get engaged”. A tear slipped down her cheek, and Jake immediately wiped it away.

Amy handed the Sharpie back to Jake, and they jumped off of the bed and onto the floor. “I think we should celebrate. Want a drink?” Amy asked.

“Ames, I thought we weren’t getting drunk tonight.”

“Who said anything about alcohol?” Amy replied, smirking. She ran into the kitchen and returned with an unopened bottle of orange soda and two cups.

Jake had never loved her more.

1. I don't remember what I originally had planned for this, but I'm definitely happy with how it came out. 2. I'm sorry that it's so short, but I hope that the fluffiness makes up for it : ) 3. This is the end of this little series, but I'm starting a "Brooklyn Nine-Nine" and "The Good Place" crossover fic that should have its first chapter up next week, and I have a heck of a lot more planned for after that. Seriously, you guys have no idea how long my list of ideas is.

Thank you guys so much for reading as always!! If you have a request for a fic or just want to say hi, send me an ask or a message : )