#the gala finally fucking ends

[britcision]

Hey guys guess what? We’re finally out of the dang gala! However, because we did go back in for the explosion, now the boys don’t get to kiss until chapter 15 at the earliest

This chapter’s a little darker than the rest, we’re getting back into Jason’s death and Tim has finally done a google on Amity Park

Most prominently featured is Jason’s self loathing however, so do prepare yourselves for that after the Mariokart

The link to AO3 is in the first chapter

First chapter:

Last chapter:

——————

Not Over Til The Goth Lady Says Fuck

Well, Brucie Wayne hadn’t died. Gotham escaped annihilation by a sliver. There might still be something of worth left in this dump.

Vlad wandered amongst the guests as they returned to the main hall, wondering idly where those bloody Wayne “children” had all gone.

For all that people were sooo protective of them, no one seemed to care where they were during the actual danger. Typical.

Not that he minded. Vlad would be quite happy not to run into any of them again for quite some time. He had fences to mend first, and no desire to provide more fuel to the fire.

There was some form of commotion off to one side of the hall, yet more yelling, and Vlad let himself drift over. Honestly, the voices were almost familiar…

Although some of the more choice words weren’t. Vlad assumed they were vile exhortations of some sort, especially from the gasps of those around him.

It was actually rather impressive. He thought he had a rather extensive vocabulary of curses, but someone was putting him to shame.

At least his little moving bubble of space was useful as he made his way through the crowds. People who got too close soon realised who he was and pushed their way into the crowds to avoid him.

No jostling for Vladdie today. Maybe it wasn’t the very worst after all.

He was honestly a little surprised to find Samantha and Pamela Manson in full duet. As much as Samantha always wanted to scream herself hoarse at these events, usually she kept a lid on it.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, to realise that Daniel and young Jason were at the center of even this little ball of ire. His jaw dropped.

“I CANNOT believe you?! Why is it ALWAYS like this, EVERY TIME?! I was DEFENDING YOU and you can’t keep your legs shut for a minute at a time!” Samantha bellowed, fists clenched and a glint of tears in her eye.

“You utter HARLOT! Shameless STRUMPET, leading that INNOCENT BOY astray! DISGRACING my poor baby girl, you are WORSE THAN YOUR PARENTS Daniel Fenton!”

Pamela was actually crying, being held by her husband to prevent her from either running to Sam or full on attacking Daniel.

Vlad was going to put his money on attacking. The Manson women had a worrying streak of rage. Although…

Brows furrowing he tuned out the noise for a moment (Pamela had clearly been reading a lot of period romances) and focused on the thread of emotion he’d picked up.

Samantha was… delighted. Vlad might have suspected it was just at the chance to finally scream at a gala, but there were no darker feelings anywhere.

She was having a wonderful time. And Daniel and Jason, for all that they looked contrite, for all that Daniel’s head was slumped, were equally delighted.

Something was going on here, something all three young people had orchestrated. From the content of the yelling and the state of undress…

Vlad’s eyes widened. Daniel was wearing Jason’s tie. Jason’s shirt was missing three buttons.

Well that would certainly put both young men in an excellent mood, but at a gala?!

He was quite sure his cheeks must have blanched at just the thought. He’d noticed they were fond of each other, but so soon?

Perhaps Jason would have to be a son-in-law rather than an actual son. He simply wouldn’t accept the other way round, no matter how much Daniel might resist.

Daniel was perfect… if apparently a little easy. Not disloyal though, which was something of a relief. He’d never have considered Daniel capable, since he was loyal to his friends long past the point of fault.

Even now, he was perfectly happy to be harangued by both Samantha and her mother to allow Sam to make some sort of point.

He was distantly aware of the crowd parting again, but didn’t turn to acknowledge the arrival of… Brucie. He looked a little the worse for wear, likely from the thermos more than the actual rogues.

A thin smear of blood at his hairline betrayed where the thermos had struck, and the faint shadow of an oncoming bruise. He should probably be having someone scan his head, but since it usually appeared to be empty that was probably of little concern.

Well, he wasn’t likely to pay Vlad any mind.

Not with this little display.

**

Bruce had barely had time to pull Damian aside in the hopes of a debrief before shrieks and yelling once more filled the dining hall.

It couldn’t be Harvey after all, could it? As annoyed as Robin clearly was by the distraction, Bruce had no choice. He headed to the center of the yelling.

No matter how much it made his throbbing head pulse.

It definitely wasn’t Harvey at least. While Two Face probably knew all of the words being yelled, he would never say more than half of them. Not even at his worst.

The thought almost dragged a smile out of him, but a particularly loud curse rang off the marble and set up echoes in his skull. At least one of the voices was almost familiar.

The crowd parted without him having to jostle through it, and he’d never been more grateful to Gotham’s high society. Didn’t quite think about why they might want to help him get to the center of the action.

Damian - no, still Robin until he changed, had disappeared into the crowd at some point, but Bruce forged on anyway. He’d probably gone back to help Red Robin watch over Croc.

For now, he just had to focus on whatever else had gone wrong this evening, finally stepping through into an almost clear patch of floor and what must have been the commotion.

And arrived just in time to see Sam Manson turning from berating Danny and Jason, to point an accusing finger at her mother. Pamela actually shut up in surprise.

“And YOU! This is ALL your fault! If you had just let me be with Valerie this NEVER would have happened! She would NEVER do this to me! I’m NEVER dating another man again!”

Pamela looked like she might faint, her face pale as her daughter’s words sank in.

It didn’t take Gotham’s best detective to work out what must have happened. A quick glance at Danny and Jason showed them both… far more dishevelled than simply making out in the closet would allow.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, clocking the missing buttons, ruffled hair, Jason’s still partially open pants, and his stomach sank.

At a gala. Even in the height of his playboy days, Brucie had never gotten caught at a gala. He had a sudden sympathy for Alfred and resolved to give the man his most sincere apologies.

If Bruce’s heyday was anything like this for the old man, he owed him far more than that. Maybe a fruit basket. A nice new shotgun.

He stepped forward quickly, taking advantage as Sam drew in a breath to try and inject some calm.

“I’m terribly sorry, but what has happened here?”

All eyes turned immediately to him and he spread his hands, gesturing for peace. Pamela rallied at once, pulling free of her husband and shooting Danny an utterly poisonous look.

“Oh I am so sorry Brucie, this is entirely my fault! We should never have brought that awful Fenton boy, he’s been CORRUPTING your poor Jason, taking advantage of him, he’s a dreadful influence!” She fluttered, clearly unsure where to direct her attention.

Behind her mother, Sam snorted loudly.

“It was Jason’s dick in Danny’s ass, MOM, I’m pretty sure he was involved!”

And that seemed to fluster both boys more than any of the previous yelling, Danny’s cheeks burning as he clapped both hands over his mouth. Jason was doing his best not to laugh.

Bruce gave him a Look, because they Would be discussing this later, and wasn’t in the least surprised when Jason just rolled his eyes. Still, there had to be limits.

Danny clearly had a far greater hold over Jason than he’d feared. It was an effort to force himself to remember Danny’s youth.

Bruce had been that age not all that long ago. And, as he’d just realised, probably a lot worse in certain specific ways. Perhaps they were just indiscrete. It didn’t all have to be a devious plot.

He gave Pam his very best soothing smile, taking her hand gently.

“It has been a very dramatic evening already, I’m sure the boys were just over excited. They will go and wash up and then Jason and I will have a quiet. Word.” He layered the last two words with intent.

Honestly, this was perfect. An excuse to get Jason alone, get a report direct from the source. Jason wouldn’t tell the truth, but Bruce knew him well enough to know what the lies he told concealed.

Sam Manson seemed equally derisive of the idea as Jason himself, shooting Bruce a vicious glare that looked eerily like her mother’s.

He almost took a step back. But she didn’t have that thermos anymore.

“Of course Famous Playboy Brucie doesn’t think fucking around with someone else’s partner is a big deal! Where do you think Jason learned it?” She snarked, sending an icy dagger straight into Bruce’s heart.

Had he done that? No, it was just his aching head. And the building wave of exhaustion. Jason knew as well as the others that the playboy thing was a front.

Had Jason ever had good relationship role models though? His parents certainly weren’t, and Bruce himself had definitely never been much of one.

If the closest thing he had was Talia, perhaps that explained why he’d fallen so easily under Danny’s sway…

His mind was wandering. Perhaps he should have one of his boys check him for a concussion.

As if summoned by his thoughts, suddenly Nightwing and Signal were there, pushing through the crowd. Thank all that was good that this was about to be not his problem for a while.

“Alright everyone, calm down, the cops are already on their way, let’s not also give them a murder,” Nightwing declared far too gleefully. It set off… something, but Bruce couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

Maybe taking the chance to head home early was a good idea after all. It wasn’t as though Jason would be courting donors for his own projects today.

No, Jason was courting much worse things, a dark little part of Bruce grumbled, and he fought to squash it down.

Jason was an adult, and whatever choices he made with other consenting adults, no matter how bad said choices were, were his own.

Since when were any of his baby boys old enough to be caught fooling around in closets?

Maybe he also needed to go and sit down.

**

Not getting to witness the explosion as himself kinda sucked, but Dick could accept getting to be there in costume instead.

It actually gave him an excuse to intervene, and meant he had a reason to try and pull Danny and Jason aside for Signal to get a good look at Danny.

They had hung back for a while, Nightwing not wanting to interrupt Sam’s frankly incredible vocabulary of curses, Signal just… trying desperately to work out what was going on.

Poor guy. Someone should have warned him.

Nightwing specifically probably should have warned him, but hey, too late for that now. Once Bruce had things mostly quieted down, Nightwing figured they should move in to wrap it up.

And sure, Sam was glaring at him again, but the big taser wasn’t actually in her hand yet so he was probably fine. He turned, giving Jason and Danny sweeping looks.

Not laughing got a whole lot harder when he took in the extent of their dishevelment. And the mostly unrepentant look on Jason’s face.

“Look, perhaps we should get these two young men to a bathroom, do some clean up and get you presentable again? And the young lady, wouldn’t you rather discuss this in private?” He offered brightly.

He knew full well Sam would not want to discuss it in private. But it gave her an excellent starting off point for another explosion.

Only helped when Pamela Manson immediately jumped on the idea.

“Oh yes, of course, we can all go and talk about things away from prying eyes,” she trilled, giving her daughter a significant look and not looking at their audience so obviously she might as well have stared.

Sam rallied magnificently, drawing herself up and sucking in a deep breath.

“And WHAT do you think I have to talk about with them?!” She demanded, and Danny took a very quick step back. Right into Jason, who caught him automatically.

Adorable. Nightwing wished he had a camera. The domino’s would had to do, and he took a couple quick snaps before turning back, not wanting to miss the fun.

Pam was now trying to calm her daughter down, like she hadn’t also been screaming invective and slut shaming Danny seven ways to Sunday.

She stepped forwards, hands held out placatingly, and stopped at Sam’s glare.

“Sammykins… I know you’re upset, but…”

“I would definitely like to leave,” Danny stage whispered, deliberately shifting in place.

Nightwing pressed his lips tight together to keep the smile from showing. Whether or not Danny and Jason were actually fucking in the closet, the boy committed to the bit.

“UPSET?!” Sam demanded, stepping closer to her mother now and making her back up.

As much fun as this part of the show was about to be, there was still a lil actual work to be done. Signal had definitely gotten a good look at Danny by now, but might as well get him alone.

Just to be able to prove it wasn’t anyone else in this room. Glancing around, he caught sight of Steph back in the crowd.

At least someone would still be there to enjoy the show.

He debated hauling Danny over his shoulder and carrying him out, but decided against it. Not least because he had no fucking idea where that thermos had gone, and didn’t want to find out.

Instead he clapped Danny on the shoulder, gave Signal a significant nod, and headed for the door.

“Seems like you might need a little protection, and I need to give you a once over anyway after tangling with Croc.” Fuck you Spoiler, he could steal her excuse.

Danny actually laughed at that, turning to head away as Sam gained rapidly in volume.

“Oh Jason gave me an extremely thorough going over, but you’re welcome to look too,” he agreed and Nightwing actually giggled. Just a little.

Flirty little shit. He could feel Pamela Manson trying to develop eye lasers. Danny was the perfect addition to the family.

Covered the giggle up before someone noticed and rushed them both to the nearest door, and down towards the backrooms. Following behind, Signal cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, uh… do either of you actually need a bathroom?” He still sounded lost, so Jason took pity on him once they had a closed door between themselves and others.

“Nah, we faked it to fuck with Sam’s parents. Danny does need a check for any broken ribs though,” he added.

Danny rolled his eyes, waving a hand in Jason’s direction.

“I’m fine, the big guy just tossed me around a little. I’m not even gonna bruise,” he said casually enough that Nightwing was gonna add like, 50 points to his “worry about New Favourite Guy” meter.

He raised a hand cautiously.

“That might just be the adrenaline. I’ve taken more than a couple rounds with Killer Croc and he can do some pretty nasty damage,” he offered warily.

Danny sighed like he was being asked something completely unreasonable and yanked his shirt up, showing off a skinny pale chest and stomach.

“Look, I’m fine, alright? Maybe if you considered getting good he wouldn’t hurt you either.” And yeah, Danny was a sassy little fuck and Nightwing snickered, but he was still worried.

Sure enough though, there wasn’t a mark on the kid. Not on his chest from being hit by Croc, not on his back from an impact that shattered tiles.

Signal let out a low whistle off to one side, and Nightwing had to wonder what the hell the meta could see. He himself though, he just had to raise his hands and admit defeat.

“Hey, if you say so. I’m just doin’ my job here.”

There was a moment of… something. Jason and Danny didn’t so much as glance at each other, but Dick would swear there was a moment of charge in the air, a bolt of communication.

Shared understanding that they’d done nothing outward to share.

Then Danny’s lips tipped up in a cocky grin and he snickered, looking Nightwing full in the eye.

“Yeah, whatever you say, cop.”

**

Danny wasn’t gonna mention it. Partially because of the way Jason had looked at him, calculating, sizing him up.

He’d never been looked at like that by someone who wasn’t immediately about to attack him. Even seeing Jason’s aura, no hint of aggression or malice in it, hadn’t helped.

It. He didn’t like it. Not from a friend.

He remembered the fear though, from back in the early days when Wes called him out. The fear of what losing that secret would mean for his friends, his family, the ones he loved.

Back before he knew everyone would roll their eyes and write it off. Back when he thought someone learning his secret was a threat.

Guess all vigilantes had some common experiences.

But hell, it wasn’t like the bats weren’t gonna know who he was by tomorrow morning at the latest. That was fine, so long as it didn’t lead them on to what Jason was.

They’d probably have questions, and if they were super lucky he might even bother to answer some of them. Hell, he might know the answers at all; that wasn’t a given.

But if they were gonna go nosing about in his life, he might as well really underline that he wasn’t just some little puppy that’d roll over and play dead.

He was a strong, independent half ghost who didn’t need no man.

So when Jason heard him sassing Nightwing and his whole aura became a gleeful mix of happy-amazing-get his ass, Danny sent a gentle nudge back.

Mischief-secrets-should I?

Felt Jason hesitate. Didn’t have to look at him to know the calculations he’d be running. Jason knew his family best. Would know how careful they needed to be.

Mischief-glee-fucking do it.

Maybe they were bad influences on each other.

And, well, it was unofficially Bully Dick Day. Danny might have been a little less confident on his identification the other way around, but having just spent a couple hours with the guy?

Yeah, Danny would risk it. The look on Dick’s face was way worth it. His jaw dropped, and while Danny couldn’t see his eyes behind the little domino, that pretty much just made it better.

Dick’s head turned to Jason and Jason sighed, raising his hands.

“He told me he knew on the way into the closet. Fucked if I know how.” So they weren’t just dropping the Ghost King thing. Good to know.

Danny just grinned. He’d seen plenty of Gotham’s message boards and while he’d never cared, he’d heard the theories.

Especially Nightwing’s. Even if the actual poster was a little… fruit loopy. And thought Nightwing was Condiment King’s alter ego.

“The butts match. And I mean, I was just hanging out with you for like an hour. Doing a different voice isn’t really changing much, y’know?” Which was technically all true.

Pretty much every one of the Waynes mysteriously disappearing wasn’t all that subtle either, but he’d point that out when there were more of them around to be ashamed of themselves.

Dick’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he visibly shook himself and closed it. The eye slits on the domino narrowed, and yeah, Danny wasn’t going to resist that one.

“Are you fucking serious? The mask makes faces too? How the hell did you get it to do that?” He asked, rising on tiptoes to wave a hand in front of Dick’s face.

Signal was trying not to laugh, arms folded as he leaned back against the small table.

“Are you going to tell anyone?” He asked like he already knew the answer, checking something off on a list.

This was going better than Danny thought. Good vibes.

Danny shrugged and stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket, grinning.

“Who would believe me? It’s fine, you guys are gonna get like, 30 seconds into googling me and find my old secret identity anyway. I used to go by Phantom,” he added in case it made Dick feel better.

Poor guy was clearly still having a crisis. Maybe they didn’t have their own Wes Weston here and hadn’t been outed before.

He just stared at Danny for a moment longer, then sighed heavily and ran both hands through his hair. Not much point in continuing to pretend, even if no one had said the words “yes you are right.”

It wasn’t like Danny had said the words “you are Dick Grayson”. Plausible deniability all round.

“Just pinky swear you were never a villain,” Dick finally sighed, holding out a hand, pinky extended.

Danny obediently locked pinkies, snickering as he thought about Dan. Technicalities.

“I pinky swear I, specifically, in this timeline, have never been a villain,” he agreed. The overly specific wording didn’t seem to bother anyone.

Maybe fighting yourself from the future was just something all vigilantes had to do. He was pretty sure he’d heard something about the Justice League and time travel before.

Not paid attention to it, but he heard it.

Dick then turned and got Jason in a headlock, noogie-ing him.

“And you have to stop giving the lot of us heart attacks,” he declared, flipping over Jason’s back and away when Jason grabbed for him.

Danny snickered as the tension left the room, Jason clearly considering continuing the chase. Then he just shrugged, dropping down onto one of the two couches and waving to Signal.

“Danny, this is Signal, apparently you’ve almost met before?”

That caught Signal’s attention and he cocked his head, question all over his face. Danny grinned.

“You were the first vigilante I saw in Gotham. Like, 8 months ago, after that thing at the mall where you were teaching the kids to do backflips.”

He saw the moment Signal placed it, nodding and grinning. He held out a hand and Danny shook it.

“Nice to remeet you then, Danny. Jason’s told us nothing at all about you,” he added, grinning over at Jason. Who flipped him off.

“You call yourselves detectives, you’d get bored if I didn’t give you enrichment one way or another,” he refuted and Danny cackled.

“Oh, is that all I am? Enrichment?” He teased and Jason grinned at him.

“Was there another reason you were riding Croc like a rodeo bull?” He asked back. Danny raised his hands, still grinning.

“Yeah, alright. I guess I don’t mind being enrichment for your bored detectives,” he agreed, grinning at the two costumed heroes.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he paused, pulling it out to check it. Tuck had texted.

‘$50 for you two to disappear out a window’

Stifling a snicker, Danny tossed his phone to Jason and returned his attention to the heroes.

“So, was there anything you guys wanted from getting us away, or were you just doing us a solid?” He asked casually. He’d disappear out a window for way less than $50. If Jason was down.

From his snort of laughter, yeah, he was.

Dick gave his phone a slightly suspicious look, then shrugged cheerfully.

“Well, we could also try and find Jay a new shirt before we get back out there if you wanna catch the rest of the show?” He offered.

As tempted as Danny was to ask where the fuck they’d find a new shirt at a party venue… they had shit to do.

Well, they could find shit to do. Same difference.

Jason rolled easily to his feet tossing Danny his phone back. He totally didn’t almost drop it.

“Nah, we’re probably gonna dip. Better for Sam if we mysteriously disappear together and you guys can go catch the show,” he explained with a slight shrug.

Dick’s mouth opened and closed a few more times, then he grinned and shook his head. Obviously a man who knew the finer points of escalating a situation.

“Steph’s recording, if you wanna catch up later?” He offered instead and Jason snickered and nodded.

“Okay. Don’t have my bike today, Danny, so can you sort out transport?” He asked and it took Danny a second to work out what he meant.

He’d come in the Manson’s limo. But Jason didn’t mean a vehicle type of ride.

Eh, why not give the bats something else to wonder about? There was only so long they’d be confused by his more useful powers.

He had to get the good times in while he could.

He kinda missed the old days, sometimes. No one expected a dead hero to have a living alter ego, so he’d flown under the radar with basically no effort.

Alright, the old days had also not included an inquisitive and protective bat clan sniffing around because he was friends with their own dead guy.

Jason had only died a year after him though. Maybe it could have… man, how different would his life had been if he’d known it wasn’t just him and Vlad and Dani at fifteen?

But he might not have been able to help Jason back then. Just the thought of trying to guide someone else while his ice core formed made him flinch.

No thank you, that would have fucking sucked. It was probably for the best that things had happened like this.

If it wasn’t, a certain nosey fucking regent would have pulled his thumb out of his ass and poked Danny in Jason’s direction years ago. He certainly seemed to like the guy enough.

Today though, Danny crossed to the window and slid it open, hopping up to take a seat on the sill. They weren’t too far off the ground here, so it’d be an easy enough slide.

The snow might have been more of a problem, but it wasn’t like he’d be walking for long. It wasn’t deep anyway, just a couple of inches out here.

He dropped carefully down, turned and grinned back through the window.

“Alright Jay, your turn!”

Jason was already there, snickering as he climbed carefully over the sill. Danny could still just about see Dick and Signal around his shoulders, so he figured fuck it.

Held out his arms.

Jason didn’t notice right away, but hesitated the second he did. It was like Danny could see the cogs turning inside his head, a faint rush of pink rising in his cheeks.

Jason really did have the cutest blush. Danny hoped he’d see a lot more of it.

He waggled his eyebrows at Jason, holding his arms out.

“C’mon, I’ve got you,” he prompted cheerfully, and saw the exact moment when Jason figured “fuck it”.

The window being lower worked against them there, Jason still being a good chunk taller than Danny, so the positioning was a little awkward. Finally Jason just sighed, gave Danny a look, and shifted most of his weight out the window.

“If you drop me I’ll kick your ass,” he warned and Danny grinned, stepping closer and slipping his arms in under Jason’s knees and back.

“Wasn’t even thinking it until you said that,” he pointed out and Jason groaned, but let himself drop into Danny’s arms.

Despite hefty temptation, Danny did not drop him. He gave Signal and Dick a cheery nod and walked away, princess carrying a snickering Jason through the snow.

Once they were almost but not quite out of sight, he took off.

“So, where we going?” He asked Jason, who looked a little uncomfortable being carried, but hadn’t stopped snickering yet.

It was probably the whole “not seeming weak” thing again. Or it could be the flying. He and Jason had flown in the Zone, but that wasn’t really the same.

The bigger man hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.

“I could honestly go for something else to eat,” he offered and Danny hummed thoughtfully.

The gala food had been good, but really not up to a half ghost appetite.

“Yeah, I could eat. We should also talk about the whole bomb thing,” he added more reluctantly, not wanting to kill the mood, but… well.

They were still in Gotham. The literal same shit could pop up tomorrow too.

Jason stilled in his arms, his aura suddenly nothing but dread. Danny squeezed him in a little tighter, blanketing him in comfort-acceptance-warmth.

“Doesn’t have to be today,” he said softly, felt something in Jason relax. Felt the pit curl in reluctance-anger-pleading-help.

It made him hold Jason all the closer, holding down the comforting trills his core demanded. No, dropping a startled Jason in mid air would help no one.

But Danny would help them. Both of them. Help the pit fix whatever had been done to all that ectoplasm, and help Jason get his life back.

What was left of it anyway. It was the least he deserved.

**

Inside the quieter backroom, Nightwing and Signal exchanged looks.

“Did he just…” Signal started and Nightwing sighed, looking as weary as he’d ever seen the older hero.

“It’s been the kind of night where I’m just not gonna ask,” Nightwing said dryly, rolling his shoulders and glancing around the room, “Danny seems to think we’ll work it out eventually.”

Signal shook his head, snickering softly. It wasn’t that he’d really had time to form any expectations from how Jason had described the guy, but Danny…

Yeah, Danny was pretty much exactly what he’d expect so far. An egregious little shit whose sense of humour fit Jason’s perfectly.

He’d have to hurry to get on their side of the inevitable prank war. Shouldn’t be that hard; Narrows and Crime Alley stuck together.

Nightwing leaned in abruptly then, his voice low. Back to serious hero time.

“So, you get more of a read on him alone?” He asked quietly.

Signal paused, brows furrowing under his helmet as he ran back through their minor interactions thus far. He still had the beginning of a headache dancing around from the windows, but…

He’d gotten a pretty good look at just Danny, on the walk from the hall back here and while he was teasing Dick.

Finally he shrugged.

“Honestly? No fuckin’ clue. He barely even registered an aura at all, I don’t think he could be bright enough to flare me out?” Not that it had happened before, but the kid barely glowed.

Most metas at least had enough of an aura to give him some kind of guess about their powers. Colour, shape, the way it moved, it was usually pretty obvious even for the weaker ones.

“So you don’t think he’s particularly powerful?” Nightwing asked, clearly adding it to his own mental notes. Hey, if it meant Duke could skip the paperwork on this run…

He shifted into proper report mode, straightening and turning to face Dick full on, voice lower and more serious. Nightwing obligingly flipped his computer up.

“Either he’s not a dangerous threat from powers alone, or he has serious control over the amount of energy he emits. If you guys hadn’t said anything, I might not even have pegged him as a meta. I did notice something though,” he added with a slight frown.

Nightwing typed a moment longer then glanced up and nodded for him to continue. Signal sucked in a breath.

He didn’t… well, he didn’t like discussing peoples’ auras, outside of a case. It was kinda invasive, especially for people he actually knew in day to day life.

Not least because he didn’t want other people trying to over analyse it. It wasn’t like he got a detailed rundown or list of descriptions; it was just a feeling. A light, a colour.

But this one felt important.

“Jason’s aura. It usually has this… red kinda funk clouding over it. Sometimes it’s thick and murky, and that seems to be when he’s… having a bad day. It’s always kinda red though. But today, it was just… clear. Soft and yellow. Whatever Danny’s doing with the pit, I think it’s working.”

Nightwing’s expression visibly softened, drifting almost all the way back into Dick before he got control again. He nodded, entering the data and then giving Signal a cheeky grin.

“I wouldn’t say you’re fully off the hook for your report, Signal, but if you wanna head out you could probably finish the rest in time for bed,” he teased and Signal rolled his eyes.

And his shoulders a couple times, posture relaxing out of the debriefing stiffness.

“Fuck off. I’m not missing whatever other bullshit you lot are getting up to tonight, fill me in on the way back to the hall.”

He’d be tired tomorrow, but he had too many questions to sleep anyway. They were a full family of nosey bastards - sorry, detectives, and he wasn’t waiting twelve hours for the details.

Not with practically all his siblings visibly sparking off with glee. There was a fuckery afoot, and that was worth a late night.

Nightwing snickered but nodded, tapping his computer closed and heading for the door.

“Short forms of course, but you’ve got the basics,” he agreed, and Signal chuckled, moving to follow.

He’d gotten plenty of pieces over the comms on his way in, but none of them were particularly coherent.

This was already a whole lot more interesting than what he’d been led to expect from a Gotham gala. Hopefully only showing up in costume wouldn’t count as actually attending.

He was still going for that record, Jason’s new boyfriend notwithstanding.

“Oh, and I think Tim’s falling in love.”

Wait.

“What now?”

**

Bruce was doing his best to keep up with events in the entry hall, but the rapidly rising lump on his head now throbbed with Samantha Manson’s every screamed curse, and he’d let himself be led away.

Someone had found him a chair closer to the back hall, a glass of water, and Stephanie had made her way over with an ice pack and a deeply amused smile.

Probably at the dramatics still ongoing around the closet. She had given him a few tests and declared it a mild concussion, most eyes still firmly fixed on the Mansons.

She wouldn’t smile like that at his pain. Unless she had been the cause. But he would be fine, so he was happy that she wasn’t fussing or worrying over him.

He supposed.

Sam not only had impressive volume, but an extensive vocabulary. Bruce’s attention occasionally faded in and out, making him miss some words, but Steph’s reactions were enough to clue him in.

The young lady had somewhat moved on from what Danny and Jason had actually done now that neither of them were present, and was now roundly denouncing men in general, her parents’ preferences in specific, and the historical trend of mistresses.

Bruce might almost think he was imagining the last one, but it was quite the impassioned rant and Steph at least was definitely following it.

Samantha Manson was a very opinionated young lady, with an extremely firm sense of justice. Maybe she would have been good for Jason he mused morosely, pressing the ice to his head.

And then the hall rang with an ominous silence.

Bruce’s head snapped up, ignoring the immediate twinge of pain, and he looked around sharply for what had captured her attention.

Ah. Nightwing and Signal had returned.

Alone. He perked up a little, hoping this might be his chance to speak with Jason.

Hopes that were immediately dashed when Nightwing caught his eye and minutely shook his head.

What?

Where was Jason? What could possibly have happened to him on the way to get a new shirt?

He couldn’t have some kind of venereal disease already, could he?

The swirling confusion definitely came from his head injury and he took another careful sip of water with Steph’s prompting, unsure of when she’d moved to steady him.

His boys had moved away, closer to the mother daughter drama but before Bruce could try to rise, young Sam saw fit to fill him in on what they’d said. At volume.

“They fucking LEFT?!”

The crowd parted immediately, eyes darting between the Manson heiress and Bruce himself, hungry for some kind of reaction from him.

At least he didn’t have to pretend to look confused. Maybe the head wound was a blessing in disguise.

Nightwing was definitely still enjoying himself far more than he had any right to be. His Dickiebird could always find the bright side in any situation…

Sucking in a breath, he let the Brucie mask fall fully into place, relaxing his facial features.

He may need an MRI when they got back to the cave. Just to check for any internal damage.

Steph leaned helpfully down, blocking him from view from about half the crowd to stage whisper,

“They said Jason and Danny climbed out the window, Brucie,” she said sweetly, and Bruce just about resisted dropping his head to thump into her hand.

That would not make his headache any better.

Of course they climbed out the window. Of course they did.

The gala had been Jason’s idea, hadn’t it? He’d wanted to be reintroduced to society so he could do things under his own name.

In all fairness, Bruce hadn’t checked that the first thing he wanted to do in his own name wasn’t cause a massive scandal. He probably should have.

If Jason thought he’d be avoiding this talk just by skipping out tonight, he had another thing coming. Bruce would rather do it as civilians but he’d hunt Jason down in his mask if he had to.

He’d never been unreasonable when bringing his children to galas; they weren’t dress up dolls to be seen and not heard and oh boy they all knew it. There just had to be some standards.

If Jason wanted to sneak away and have sex at a gala he could at least actually sneak. There were plenty of places to go without the risk of being caught that weren’t the closet just off the main hall.

The back rooms weren’t even that much farther away.

Maybe he’d have to give Jason a talk on appropriate gala behaviour. He hadn’t been to one since he… in a long time, he might not remember.

Maybe he should give Jason a sex talk. Had he given any of them a sex talk? He must have done. Surely.

Dick must know. He’d had plenty of girlfriends. Boyfriends. And… shorter encounters.

What if he hadn’t though.

Maybe he’d have to do it again. To be safe. Maybe Alfred would give them the one he’d given Bruce.

He could feel his thoughts spiralling away out of control.

Sam had reached new levels, possibly prompted by his lack of reaction to the news. Even Bruce had never heard half the words coming out of her now, some of which felt like they crackled in his head.

Just what he needed.

She’d also moved on to roundly denouncing the concept of virginity as a tool to control people with wombs. Selina would have loved having her around the house.

Steph was certainly enjoying herself, now cheering Sam on any time she stopped for breath. That also wasn’t helping his head, but he enjoyed seeing her happy too much to say.

Steph had never really come under his wing the way his other Robins had. She held herself apart, “family friend” more than family for a long time… possibly because of the history between her and Tim.

She hadn’t stood a chance against Dick. He wore people down like a cheerful, gentle waterfall, and once he claimed a sibling it was over.

He’d joke about Dick taking his adoption problem but even he could admit Dick did it better. He was just so good at affection. It came naturally to him.

Bruce was so proud of him. Of all the kids who’d taken up a mask to stand beside him. His babies.

He could feel his throat closing, choking up with tears and hurriedly forced them down. THAT was not going in any of the papers.

Whatever other disaster there was, no one would say he was anything but proud of his baby birds. At least he had the head injury to blame for his maudlin thoughts.

Casting around the room, he clocked someone checking their phone and squinted for the time. Barely past 9pm.

It felt like this gala had been going on for weeks, but there were still hours to go. And he wouldn’t even get the chance to hear Jason’s report tonight, knowing his second son.

Well, he could at least get Steph’s report. Loathe as he was to pull her away when she was having so much fun, he needed someone’s opinion on the Fenton boy that he could trust.

Leaning forward, he touched her wrist gently, letting his expression muzzy further.

“Steph, I think perhaps I need a little space. Could you bring me to one of the back rooms?” He asked softly, gaze flicking meaningfully to hers.

She hesitated a moment, clearly torn between the continuing show and the knowledge she could get at least a little of her report out of the way early.

Finally she sighed and slipped his arm carefully around her shoulders.

“Yeah, come on old man. Let’s get you somewhere quiet,” she agreed, steadying him as he hauled himself to his feet.

They could record part of her report. She wouldn’t even have to write it down later.

At least something good could come out of all this.

**

Sam was burning with satisfaction as she slipped back into her parents’ rented limo. She’d finally gotten to say every single stupid thing she hated about the galas and a little more besides.

The looks on their faces as she’d torn apart their precious little Jason (who, yeah, she owed a really big favour; that disappearing act was the cherry on the cake)? Wonderful.

When she started in on their homophobic bullshit, the stupid frilly dresses, the way she wasn’t just a present they could wrap how they wanted and ignore who she was?

It felt fucking amazing. Every frustration she’d been holding onto since her teen years, every time they’d shared those “meaningful looks” over her head, every huge sigh, every time they tried to change who she was.

If they wanted a pet they should have got a chihuahua, not had a damn kid.

She’d gotten a round of applause for that one. She hadn’t been expecting any support except for her boys, but having the Waynes on her side had changed a lot.

She’d swear she’d even seen Nightwing clapping along, but he’d stopped before she looked back.

Guess vigilantes couldn’t be seen condoning any of the shit disturbing. Signal had definitely given her a subtle thumbs up though, and a secret high five when she finally let them lead her away to “calm down”.

She’d spent the rest of the evening with the Wayne affiliated girls and Tucker, texting occasionally with Danny and Jason to let them know how the meltdown had gone.

Apparently Tim had some kind of medical thing that had acted up during the attack so Dick had taken him home. Tucker was heartbroken and adorable, but Steph promised to bring his well wishes back to Tim’s bedside.

They kept him distracted anyway by making some videos for Tim to enjoy, both with and without the various Gotham vigilantes as they waited for the cops to finish clearing the goons out.

Sam was a little bummed that Black Bat hadn’t stuck around, but while the gala was big it also wasn’t gonna be the only target in town.

Nightwing did a flip for them anyway, without being asked. He was a dork. Signal was cool though, and he sounded really sincere when he wished Tim well.

They both seemed at least passingly familiar with the Waynes, but it was Gotham. Who wasn’t? Especially with the number of galas that’d bring them into close contact.

Sam hadn’t spent much time with any of them before, mostly because her parents kept her on a very short leash with the rogues around. Not tonight though, she thought with satisfaction.

No, tonight she’d had free reign, especially after their little dust up. Maybe it helped that she still was kind of hanging out with the Waynes’ associates?

She liked Steph and Cass a lot, for sure. Steph was funny in a bold, outrageous way, and while she dressed a little brightly for Sam’s tastes, it was at least a classy purple.

She liked noise and attention and making people laugh when they took a drink to see if she could get it to come out of their nose. Tucker? Easy prey. But she got Sam more than once.

Cass was quieter in every way, but just like Sam had thought it wasn’t because she had nothing to say. She just didn’t need to be noticed.

Steph and Tucker ducked through the hall, recording people saying specific words one word at a time to build Tim a message about what he was missing.

Sam and Cass went around stealing empty glasses until they could write “Get Well Soon Tim” on the floor in front of the bathrooms.

They attracted stares for the entire rest of the evening but not a soul over the age of thirty dared approach. It was the best gala evening Sam’d ever had.

Her favourite part though? That had to be the number of people who were Absolutely Convinced that Danny had to be one of the Robins.

He fit the profile, sure; black hair, blue eyes. Just like more than half the Waynes, and a weirdly large chunk of Gotham in general. He’d jumped in to wrestle Croc.

Imagine if they knew he actually was a vigilante - just not a living one.

She’d actually passed someone passionately explaining that “you never saw him and Red Robin at the same time”, like Red Robin hadn’t been fucking desperately trying to pull Danny off Croc’s back.

That? That they made a video compilation of on Steph’s phone. She was keeping hold of it til they could see Danny in person tomorrow, because no way was she missing his face.

The crowning glory was a lady with a fan earnestly insisting that Danny must be the Red Hood, Noted 6’ Tall Tank Of A Man, while Vlad fucking fumed in the background.

It was wonderful. She was going to play it at Vlad’s next run for mayor. And his birthday. And maybe every time she saw him for the rest of her life.

She’d also seen more than one person meaningfully approaching her parents from the corner of her eye. Among their other shenanigans.

She was fully expecting some form of lecture, maybe some more hysteria from her mother, but honestly? It would hurt them more than Sam to cut her off.

Sam could walk away from the Manson money tomorrow. The greenhouse and nursery might not cover her full rent, but she could move.

Pamela and Jeremy Manson, having to explain why their daughter was never seen with them again? After tonight? Social hell, especially for her mother.

Maybe Pam saw something of that future in the set of Sam’s shoulders, because the drive back to their hotel was almost completely silent, even through Gotham’s slow crawl of traffic.

Didn’t bother Sam. She was perfectly happy to relive some of their more pointed shenanigans, maybe debate asking Danny if they could call him RH whenever Vlad was around.

That’d be fun. Or Hoodie. He wore the damn sweaters enough, Vlad couldn’t prove that wasn’t what they meant.

They’d actually reached the hotel, Jeremy stepping out to deal with the valet when Pamela turned hesitantly to her daughter.

“Sammikins… darling… I know you had an awful evening,” (and how appropriate that her mom had completely missed her having some of the most fun of her life), “and I know you said you wouldn’t date men…”

Sam steeled herself, wondering if another rant might be in order. Her mom clearly noticed, raising a hand in immediate surrender,

“And I fully understand, it’s entirely your choice whether you ever change your mind or not,” she added quickly, and Sam’s shoulders settled somewhat reluctantly.

Pamela gave her a very soft, hopeful sort of smile.

“It’s just. You looked so happy when you were talking with Cassandra. I didn’t know you knew sign at all, so if you wanted to see her again while we’re here…” she wheedled, and something in Sam’s brain shut down.

“What?” She asked, genuinely dumbfounded.

Pamela raised both hands this time, looking actually… kind of contrite. Like she’d actually been listening to Sam’s rants.

Like Sam might have finally gotten through to her.

Like the woman who hadn’t let her bring her girlfriend to a gala was actually immediately moving on to pushing her at another woman.

What. The fuck.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured, darling, I know we got far too pushy when you met Jason, I just. We’ll be in town for another day. And you made a very sweet pair.”

The hope in her face was unmistakeable, and Sam found herself gaping. There were just. Too many questions, all forming up in her head.

She found the words for at least one just as her mother reached for the door, almost ending their moment.

“Wait. You mean you don’t mind that I’m a lesbian?” She asked suspiciously, brows drawing down as she tried to make sense of what was happening.

Pamela gave her a soft smile and gently cupped her cheek.

“Sammy, darling, I know we’ve been… pushing an image on you,” almost the same words Sam had used, and they clearly pained her, “but I would never reject you for who you loved.”

Which made absolutely no fucking sense.

“So why the hell wouldn’t you let me bring Valerie?” Sam demanded weakly, shoulders sagging as confusion warred with the sudden wash of tears threatening to break out.

Acceptance. Her mother was finally accepting her. In the one thing she hadn’t asked for or expected.

Pamela’s face immediately pinched at Val’s name and she huffed, drawing herself up and resettling in her seat like a broody hen.

Not accepting everything, then. No surprise there.

“I don’t mind if you date or marry a woman, darling, but I most certainly do not trust that young Gray woman. The way she cosied up to you and your friends when her father lost his position! Wealth comes with many detractors, Sammy, and sometimes that means people will try to prey on your gentle heart and use you for your money!”

Sam’s jaw dropped as Pamela talked, passion flaring up until Sam had some idea what the others had seen when she got going.

She wanted to beat her head against the window. It was like they’d gotten absolutely fucking nowhere.

“Val isn’t a fucking gold digger, Mom!” She argued with a frustrated groan, tossing her hands into the air.

Pamela sniffed, turning her nose up.

“She is not good enough for my baby girl. Honestly, what does she even do at school?”

“Not fuck strangers in the closet!” Sam snapped back, and Pamela glared at her. Then deflated with a soft sigh.

“I just want what’s best for you, Sammy. If you think it’s Valerie… I suppose I can try. But I will be talking to her,” she added sharply, that Manson family steel shining through again, “just to let her know that I will be watching, and if she hurts you she will have me to deal with!”

The thought of the Red Huntress dealing with her mother almost made Sam laugh. As if the older woman would stand a chance.

But it was a compromise, if not an actual apology. She could work with that.

And, actually, while her mom was apparently in a compromising mood…

“And I can choose my dress for the next gala?” Sam asked quickly, again interrupting her mother’s move for the door.

Pamela hesitated for a long moment, then gave her daughter a wary look.

“So long as there are no spiders…” she said slowly.

“I want that in writing,” Sam warned sharply and Pamela sighed again, then nodded.

“By tomorrow morning, dear,” she agreed.

Sam’s triumphant grin carried her all the way into the elevator, up the stairs, and back to her bedroom where she pulled out her phone to update the group chat.

‘2Goth2Glorious: you guys aren’t going to fucking believe what my mom just said.’

**

“Huh,” Danny chuckled, glancing at his phone and then dropping it on a table and stepping over the back of Jason’s couch to slide down and sit like a fucking animal.

Already sprawled on the couch, Jason tipped his head back to frown over at him. They were in one of Jason’s less shitty safe houses this time (and Danny’s relief that he didn’t actually live in the first one was hilarious) after raiding a Denny’s.

And a convenience store. And a Batburger. For once Jason really didn’t feel bad about how much he ate; at least he chewed.

He’d swear Danny unhinged his jaw to just inhale an entire double cheeseburger. Maybe that was all Sam meant by “Jawbreaker”…

Jason wasn’t gonna think about that though.

Nope.

They were in a much more comfortable living room now, with actual decent furniture, and Danny was climbing it like a mountain goat. And being cryptic.

The first thing he’d done after walking through the doors was drop their food on the table. The second was drop his pants, kicking them away and throwing the tie and jacket after them.

Jason could sympathise, the monkey suits sucked and he’d abandoned jacket and tie not long after. Not the pants yet. But the sweatpants in the bedroom were calling to him.

“What? He prompted Danny instead, pushing over the second controller. Mariokart. The traditional way the bats kept score.

Easier to track than the number of crimes that didn’t happen. No one else liked his idea of counting heads.

Danny scooped it up and settled in, immediately picking his racer and getting comfy.

Baby Mario. Interesting.

Jason mained Peach, mostly so Dick couldn’t.

“So apparently we read the whole gala thing wrong,” he said casually, just as the countdown to begin the race began, “the Mansons aren’t homophobic.”

Classic distraction techniques. Motherfucker. Jason was so focused on gunning the engine and blasting off the starting line it took him a moment to process the words.

He had to actually glance over at Danny at that, brows furrowed, and missed an item drop.

Doublefucker.

“Fuck off.”

Danny snickered, effortlessly drifting into a turn.

“No shit. They’re trying to set Sam up with Cass,” he added as proof, and Jason snapped his attention back to the game.

He could play this with Damian standing on his shoulders and Steph tickling him, fuck Danny and his conversational bomb dropping.

First time he could say he’d side with the elder Mansons though.

“They were cute,” he offered with a slight shrug, casting back. Sam and Cass hadn’t interacted much, but Sam knowing ASL was a good sign.

No pun intended. He wasn’t Dick.

Danny snickered again and leaned sharply to the left as he skidded around another turn.

“And Sam woulda killed for a chance before Val. She learned sign language to try and talk to her, always said it was because she seemed like the only tolerable person in the room. That’s Sam for “she’s really pretty”,” he added slyly, dropping a red shell in Jason’s path.

Triplefucker. Jason skidded for a double set of items, then burnt a few coins to speed back up.

Digested new information. Both about the elder Mansons and Sam herself. But he didn’t have enough yet.

“So why wouldn’t they let her bring Val?” He asked instead, popping up a pirahna plant as they approached another turn. Not a great item, so he might as well make space.

“They think Val specifically is a gold digger,” Danny actually cackled this time, shaking his head and still not missing a beat.

He was a pretty good player. But they’d see how good he was under pressure later.

For now he snorted most of a laugh through his nose, shaking his head.

“Delightful. Bet Val will love that,” he snickered, hitting another double item. Mushrooms. Fucked again.

“It’s practically a mark of quality,” Danny agreed, grinning broadly, and dropped a row of bananas across the whole path. Dodgy little fucking shit.

Paused, then skimmed half way across the road for another double item box.

“By the way, do you mind if Val knows you’re a halfa?”

Jason, just about to launch a brand new green shell, frowned. They’d definitely been over this.

“I thought you already texted your team’s group chat?” It had been the most efficient way to share info with everyone who needed it.

And they’d shared more information since, mostly planning for the gala tonight. He’d kind of assumed the lot of them already knew.

He’d figured he’d meet Val and Jazz eventually, the same way Danny was probably gonna run into B’s brood again at least one more time.

Probably more now that Dick knew how much he liked puns. But Bludhaven was a ways out of Gotham, so Jason’s sanity might survive.

Danny shrugged, now glancing at Jason from the corner of his eye, and Jason took advantage to nail him with the shell. Fucking deserved it.

“Yeah but Val wasn’t in at the time, new phone- oh you cheating motherfucker!”

“Look me in the eye and say you wouldn’t have done the exact fucking same,” Jason taunted, not taking his eyes off the screen this time.

Fuck the other laps, the only thing that counted was who crossed that final finish line first. They were close, both neck and neck and if Danny had an item worth a damn he’d have used it.

Nor did Jason, but fuck it, who cared?

Just as they reached the final stretch, that dreaded alert popped up.

A blue shell. Whoever got hit, the other would win.

Half the family would have backed off, hit their breaks and let Jason take the hit. Because Jason? Jason never backed off.

He’d race the damn blue shell to the finish line and if he couldn’t beat that he didn’t want the race. And lucky him, he had coins to burn.

Danny hit his boosters right alongside Jason, the two of them careening towards the line. In the corner of his eye Jason could see the blue shell closing in, eating up the map behind them.

Reaching out suddenly, he caught Danny by the face and pushed just as the younger man shoved a foot into his other elbow.

The blue shell hit, explosion spinning both their carts to a stop. Before they could recover, a third cart sped past them, finishing the race.

Danny groaned, dropping his controller as the rest of the players passed them.

“FUCKING baby park!” He swore, and Jason nodded, flicking his controller to finish the race before tossing it down.

Then he turned back to Danny and shrugged. Ultimately he just… didn’t really care. Sam and Tucker had gone over well.

As prickly as he usually was about sharing intimate details with strangers, his death was basically common knowledge. Now, so was his revival.

So what if another stranger from a small town knew he’d fucked that up too? Precedent suggested she wouldn’t give a fuck, and it felt really, really good not having to hide.

“Yeah, I don’t care if Val knows. Do we really wanna add her back to the group chat right after the gold digger thing though?” He’d never met Valerie, even in text, but he knew she could be hot headed.

Half the stories of her trying to kill Danny proved that; it was how Danny survived.

Jason could relate. He’d been too fucking annoying to kill since he first put on a cape.

Well. Almost too annoying.

Danny just shrugged, shaking his head and rolling off the couch to grab his phone again.

“Sam’ll have told her in a private chat. Legal permission to tag her back in, or do you wanna tell her face to face?” He asked, and Jason had to wonder how much he’d talked to the others about it.

Mostly because Danny, thinking something through? He didn’t need to have known the guy this long to know that didn’t happen.

How the fuck did you even tell anyone something like this? He still had no idea how he was going to explain to his family that he was only mostly dead.

Maybe a stranger to practice on would be a good idea, and Val at least had the benefit of context. Knowing what a halfa was had put her one over him until last week.

Yet when he had an easy option, letting the others explain for him, he couldn’t help reaching for it. He didn’t even fucking know what it meant to him yet; how was he supposed to explain to anyone else?

And hey, Danny’s “new halfa just dropped” was elegance and perfection. If only he could just toss that in the family chat and call it good.

He shot Danny a thumbs up, scooping up the controller he’d dropped and tapping back to a new game screen.

“Go for it. You fill her in and I’ll get us a new game?” He offered, part of him resenting the vulnerability. The part that he kind of hated knowing was all his, and not the pit.

It wasn’t like he was even asking for help. He was delegating.

There was nothing fucking wrong with asking for fucking help. He wasn’t fucking alone anymore. He didn’t fucking have to be.

He was allowed to have friends who cared about him, and he was allowed to let them help with the things he didn’t know how to do.

His aura must have been a goddamn mess because Danny didn’t even open the chat, just hopped the back of the couch again and shoved his feet in Jason’s lap.

Soft-calm-understanding-been there.

Jason glared down at socked toes. More than anything else, he fucking hated bringing the mood down. Felt like it was all he did some days.

Socked toes scrunched to wave up at him. It looked so fucking bizarre he had the sudden urge to laugh, despite the mess in his head.

Well, he’d already ruined the fucking mood. It was easier to talk to Danny’s toes rather than look up, habits he’d learned to cope with surging green that was conspicuously absent now.

No pit rage. Just himself, still fucked up, still unable to look someone else in the eye when he was sure he’d see pity reflected back.

“Why do we need to talk about my death?” He asked the socks quietly, hands still curled around a game controller. Knowing the answer couldn’t be good.

“Because the first time you transform, you’re going to look the way you did when you died.” Fucking Danny scrunched his toes in time with his voice like the sock was the one talking.

That did knock a shaky snicker out, and Jason gave the man himself a half hearted glare. But it did suck the seriousness out of the situation.

Cuz yeah, that? That wasn’t a situation he was going to think about right now.

“Well fuck,” seemed to sum it up, and he stared back down at Danny’s feet. Couldn’t bring himself to face the sympathetic smile.

It didn’t help that Danny was the only person in the world who’d understand. Who’d already faced the horror of his own death, and now popped in and out of a ghost form like a cape.

Socked feet patted the top of his thigh.

“Yeah. You’ll be able to change it, and with some practice you can accessorize however you want just by thinking about it. But. Yeah. It’s going to suck,” Danny explained softly, thankfully abandoning the sock talking.

Jason chanced a glance up from the corner of his eye.

“How did…” how did you handle it? The words stuck somewhere below his collarbone, wedged sideways in his throat.

It didn’t seem to matter. Danny was good at hearing the ghosts of words he couldn’t say.

“Well, I transformed the first time the day I died, so it wasn’t like the memory had time to percolate,” Danny explained airily.

Like that was a good and normal sentence to say. Snorting a laugh, well aware that’s what Danny was going for, Jason pinched one of Danny’s toes.

The whole foot jerked back, coiling protectively. Motherfucker was ticklish. Yeah, Jason remembered that from their first wrestling session.

The temptation to knock Danny back to the floor and tickle him breathless was strong. It’d end the conversation, distract them both, get a more cheerful evening back on track.

Hell, they still had to tease Tucker about his massive crush on Tim. They were young, half alive, and had a truly obscene amount of snacks to get through.

They had every reason in the world to have a good night.

Just, y’know, the lingering spectre of Jason’s death between them. He’d never actually spoken about it to anyone, except to rub it in B’s face.

He’d made a joke a little too close once and watched Dick’s face crumple.

Fuck, he didn’t even like thinking about the event itself. Crawling out of his grave, well, he didn’t actually remember that.

Didn’t remember anything until Talia pulled him from a pool of bubbling green. Not the way he remembered what had come before.

Danny’s foot rose to poke gently into his face and Jason reared back, train of thought effectively derailed and he swatted for Danny’s ankle.

“What the fuck, dude?” He asked, giving Danny a mock glare as he knocked the foot away.

Danny was watching him just a little too closely for the casual smile on his face, or the lazy shrug.

“Well, you didn’t listen to your fucking name,” he pointed out, and it was news to Jason that anyone had been saying it. Obviously.

Then Danny sat up and moved closer, leaning in shoulder to shoulder with Jason.

“You don’t have to tell me. But. I’m gonna be with you when it happens, unless you don’t want me to be. And I need to know how bad I need to kick Batman’s ass.”

The last knocked a proper startled laugh out of Jason, but he didn’t move away. It. Helped having Danny close.

Close enough he didn’t have to look at his face. Close enough to feel his admittedly lacking body heat as comfort. Six of one.

“Pretty sure Sam has the brutalizing father figures part on lock already,” he said instead of asking, grin solidifying as he remembered the look on Bruce’s face.

It was never Bruce’s ass he’d wanted kicked. Alright, that was a lie, but it wasn’t Bruce he blamed for his death. That… that had always been on him.

He’d just expected B to save him like he’d done on all Jason’s other fuck ups.

Danny snickered along with him, reaching for Jason’s old controller and settling in.

“I see you still not saying Bruce is Batman,” he said innocently, and Jason fought free of the ghosts in his head.

Might as well kick their king’s ass at Mariokart before wrestling the ghosts of his past.

And if they were sat much closer, much better able to jostle each other, that’d work to his advantage. He had more bulk to use.

“Bruce knows Batman,” he repeated instead, clicking through to choose a map. Danny snickered again.

“Sam thinks Bruce is Batman’s sugar daddy,” he said innocently, just as the countdown ended.

Again.

Jason dropped his controller and lunged for his phone. Fuck the race, THAT was going straight to the family group chat.

**

Tim threw his domino aside as he stormed into the bat cave, slamming into the chair in front of the batcomputer. His fingers hit the keys before his ass hit the seat, clacking furiously.

Dick and Damian exchanged glances and shrugs, entering more slowly. Duke had skipped the cave altogether, heading straight to bed.

The actual hand off from the gala had gone smoothly. All the goons were in custody, and Croc had gone quietly. Probably because all four of them were still around, but that didn’t matter.

Tim ignored the company. It was still bothering him. He didn’t know what they’d missed when they’d raided the Riddler, and the mystery case hadn’t helped.

He’d gone to look at it when Nightwing and Signal returned to the dining hall; Damian had been right, it needed the building’s power supply.

And Dick had also been right - it was some kind of games cabinet. He’d gotten the touch screen off without setting off any of the traps and powered independently it did indeed produce a riddle.

Tim hadn’t bothered solving it, just gone back into the guts to trace what was supposed to be the threat. It wasn’t like Riddler not to include a backup battery, at least to prevent tampering.

(And alright, Tim had found and removed two, but that didn’t count. They were easy. Easy was how they’d missed something on the raid. Easy was hiding something.)

The fucking case was empty. There were spaces wired to take nearly double the explosives they’d found, and there was nothing in it. It just didn’t make sense.

As far as Damian cared, Tim was just getting up his own ass again. The brat had said as much on their way home, while Tim worked furiously at the tablet.

Tucker Foley had broken it open straight to the OS, all memory and data laid bare, except for one encrypted folder. That was too easy too, but Tim couldn’t fault his work.

It was perfect but for that one folder. Tim could trace back how he’d done it, the hack as clean and easy as one of his own.

And he’d done it with enough spare time to get right through to summer in Stardew Valley. While Tim fretted in the next room searching for the damn tablet.

That meant he’d given up on the folder, or been the one to place it. That was a clue, but if that was the case it wouldn’t help him solve the Riddler mystery.

Sighing to himself, he opened a connection through to Oracle on his comm.

“Hey O. Busy?”

“Not more than most nights,” came the easy reply. As usual, Babs sounded like she was calling from a LAN party, not rewriting the traffic grid.

Unless Bluebird was done already. Could be. Tim hadn’t checked.

“There’s a mystery folder on the Riddler tablet. I think Foley left it, but I don’t have time to break his encryption. Is Batwoman with Nygma?” He asked, running both hands through his hair.

Dick was hovering. Probably worried. He could stuff that in his own ass.

Barbara chuckled, and beside him the tablet screen sprang to life.

“Batwoman dropped him off before your guys came for Croc. He’s very upset, apparently. Sure you don’t want to take another run at the tablet? I hear your flirting has been adorable.”

Tim shot Dick a glare. Dick, entirely unrepentant, gave him worried puppy eyes.

“I have a boyfriend,” Tim grumbled, glancing back at the tablet again. Glaring at his brother was a waste of time when there was a puzzle to solve.

“So don’t marry Foley. Your nerd flirting is still adorable,” Babs shot back immediately. Tim could practically see her hands hovering over her own keyboard, waiting for his go ahead.

Riddler was actually in custody this time. That probably meant the threat was neutralised, at least for now. It also meant Red Robin could pay him a visit.

Red Robin could go check over the hideout. There might be some more answers there too.

His hands stilled on the keys, body tensing. A large hand landed on his shoulder and Dick leaned in.

“Actually, can I put a rush on that? Danny seemed pretty sure we’d learn more about him overnight. This’d explain it,” he added, tapping the tablet screen.

That caught Damian’s attention, the boy leaning back in from the locker room with his eyes narrowed.

“Does it pertain to his meta abilities?” He called, and Tim groaned, shoving both hands through his hair. Dick chuckled softly and gave him a gentle shake.

“Well it definitely has to do with him recognising us in costume, and I’m pretty sure he flew away, so I’m gonna say yes,” Dick agreed, and when the fuck had he been planning to mention that.

Tim’s neck cricked as he snapped his head around.

“He what?!” Danny had left maybe half an hour after the attack, at most. How the fuck had Tim missed so much?

Dick grinned down at him, still without shame, and one day Tim was damn well going to crack that facade. Possibly with his fist.

“You seemed so busy with the case, Red. I didn’t like to bother you.”

Damian materialised at their sides, glowering up at Dick too. It wasn’t all that often that they were on the same side but it wasn’t the kind of thing they could enjoy.

“Richard. He recognised you?” Damian asked sharply, and Dick sighed.

“Well he called me a fucking cop again and said the butts match, so I’m going with yeah. He seemed to think we would find something equally important on him though, and Jason didn’t seem concerned,” he explained a little less cheerfully.

Tim sucked in a deep, calming breath. Closed his eyes. And Damian snapped the question before he reached ten.

“So why do we not simply ask Todd?” The youngest growled, already reaching for his comm.

Dick shrugged.

“Go for it. He’s still with Danny, just pinged the group chat,” he added, raising his civilian phone to wiggle it.

Damian and Tim fell silent, both aware that Jason… well, for one would not react well to demands for information, no matter how much Danny helped with the pit.

And two… wasn’t likely to give them a full Danny download in Danny’s immediate presence. And they couldn’t swing by to ask, even if they did know where they were.

Sighing to himself, Tim pulled his phone out.

“O, if you could take a turn at the tablet hack I’m just gonna… check… Oracle check the group chat.” He pressed his lips together firmly, fighting back laughter.

All three heard Babs’ curious hum, keyboard clacking resuming a little slower than her usual. A one handed job while she checked.

Damian glared from Dick to Tim this time, then went back to the locker room for his own phone. Significant improvement from a year ago, where he’d have grabbed for Tim’s.

Fuck school, socialising him with Superboy the Younger was doing him good.

Tim’s head snapped up again, staring at Dick.

“Does the demon brat know what a sugar daddy is?” He hissed, and Dick’s eyes widened.

“Uh… dibs on not telling him.”

“You are the one he likes!” Tim hissed, Barbara’s snickering a new sudden baseline.

“And I’m keeping it that way,” Dick shot back, dancing away from the table, “you have nothing to lose!”

“Because his grandfather stole my fucking spleen, are you even Damian’s family if he hasn’t tried to stab you at least once?”

“Boys, boys,” Barbara cut in, still snickering, “think of it this way: do you want Jason to tell him?”

Both vigilantes turned back to the phone, where Damian’s icon was showing the distinctive three dots of a message in the making.

Tim glanced at Dick.

“Honestly? Kinda.” Better Jason than either of them, Jason was at least out of the immediate line of fire. And would probably weather Damian’s later vengeance attempts reasonably well.

Damian might have missed the original fireworks but he’d known Jason in the League; the fact that even he was wary of the pit rage said a lot.

But then, Damian had experienced the rage himself too.

Tim was kinda glad Ra’s hadn’t wanted to risk his mind to it. Would have been more glad if the old fucker had just left him alone instead of again, stealing his fucking spleen about it.

Wasn’t much of a surprise that Damian was stabby, honestly. But even he wouldn’t seriously pick a fight with Jason.

Nobody wanted to set off the rage that permanently broke him. Because that was what would happen if he ever did seriously hurt one of them again; Tim could see it.

Jason already thought he was broken. But they’d persuaded him he didn’t have to be. Putting one of them in the hospital, after all of his progress, would only confirm what he already believed.

Tim remembered the sharp, bleeding, fractured edges on the Red Hood he’d first met. He hadn’t seen that man in years.

He never wanted to see him again.

Not when he’d finally met his childhood hero, the Jason Todd he’d followed around with a camera in the night. Not when he finally had a Jason who called him his little brother.

They didn’t talk about it. But he could see it haunting behind Jason’s eyes some nights, a darkness different than when the pit was bad.

The pit’s anger spilled outwards, but Tim had learned to differentiate it from Jason’s. Jason’s anger spilled in, turned on himself. The kind of anger Tim was intimately familiar with.

Tim wouldn’t push. Not something so delicate. But one day, he’d really like some answers.

He’d like some damn answers about Riddler’s plans, Danny’s powers, and Tucker’s encrypted fucking file too though, and those were all a lot more urgent.

And why Killer Croc was in Gotham. And what Two Face wanted with Jason, not Red Hood. And what Killer Croc and Riddler wanted with Two Face.

And why Sam Manson’s grandmother knew Poison Ivy well enough to request a hit. What the hell was happening in Amity Park. If ghosts were actually-seriously-for-real-a-thing.

The speedsters were going to be intolerable if they presented that to the Justice League. Tim would definitely be hacking that footage with popcorn.

Heaving another sigh, he flopped back into the computer chair and just stared at the screens.

Alfred had made him weak. He’d been in bed less than thirty hours ago and his eyes were beginning to itch. But there was way, way too much to do for him to rest.

Scrubbing both hands down his face, he sat up again just as Babs let out a curious little “huh” over comms. That helped revive him.

“What’s up, O?” He asked, glancing back at Dick.

Some time while he was zoning out, the older had changed back into civvies and was leaning against the railing, checking his phone.

He must still have a comm in though, because he looked up too.

Why wasn’t he going back to Bludhaven? Another mystery for Tim’s eternally growing pile, but a minor one.

Babs was chuckling again, and the tablet screen flickered back to life.

“I got your folder open, RR. Very interesting encryption, the big bat isn’t going to be happy.” Babs sounded extremely pleased though.

“What did he use?” Tim asked idly, glancing down at the screen. Stilled. Was dimly aware of Dick moving curiously forward to peek at the tablet too.

There was only one thing in the encrypted folder, or at least one thing Babs wanted him to look at first. A simple text file.

‘To the Oracle. Love your work. Expressing my deepest admiration and eternal devotion. - TooFine’

And then an IP address that Tim couldn’t automatically place to a country. Was Tucker challenging Oracle?

Babs was talking again and Tim quickly refocused, already tapping the IP into the batcomputer.

“Three dates of my latest hacks into Lex Luthor, Vandal Savage, and the Legion of Doom. He even helpfully provided a hint in that Stardew Valley file.”

That caught Tim’s attention. He’d ignored the game, assumed the name was irrelevant.

“What’s the farm called?” He asked quickly, not wanting to scroll into the game to check.

Babs chuckled again, clearly back to work on one of the other problems.

“L85tH1t5. Or “Latest Hits”, for anyone that hasn’t used substitutions in a while. The kid’s good, and he’s been paying attention. The IP address has me in a private server, and it’s locked down with something I’ve never seen before. I think he wants to play a game.”

Tim’s brows furrowed, his attention refocusing on his own screens tracking the IP. It hadn’t even let him in.

“I’m blocked,” he admitted grumpily as Dick let out a low whistle, leaning back against the railing again.

“Must be a private invitation,” Babs teased, then sobered up. “I don’t think this is going to be the easy answers Nightwing’s looking for though. You’ll just have to run a search on Danny Fenton separately.”

Dick moved forward again, probably to lean over his shoulder or steal the keyboard, and Tim swatted him away.

“Wanna loop me in, O? I can get started on the server if you’re busy with the others.”

“Someone’s feeling left out,” Dick snickered, leaning on the back of Tim’s chair instead. Tim flipped him off.

“No need, Red Robin,” Babs replied, her own amusement just as clear as Dick’s. They were the worst. “It’s a quiet night for Gotham, I have time to flex a little.”

“Search Fenton,” Damian demanded, brows drawn down in a glower as he appeared beside the chair. Like that’d get him a big reaction.

Tim flipped him off too on principle, but sullenly pulled up a new window.

He didn’t feel left out. He wasn’t jealous. Tucker had been talking to him for half the gala, they’d had a great time and Tim really did like the guy.

They’d exchanged numbers and everything. He was gonna have to send over a real internship offer too.

Tucker hadn’t even met Babs. He was Tim’s friend.

Tim had a boyfriend. A wonderful boyfriend, whom he loved with all his heart. He wasn’t even lonely.

He just.

Didn’t see why Tucker would invite Oracle to his mysteriously secured server and not Tim.

**

By the time Bruce returned to the manor (and more importantly, to the cave) Tim was the only one down there.

No matter, Signal, Nightwing, and Robin had all had plenty of time to complete their after action reports. He could peruse those and prepare questions for later.

It was Tim he had wanted to talk to anyway. Whatever Tim had seen about Masters. About Danny Fenton.

Bruce headed over to the batcomputer, noting a cold mug of coffee that Tim somehow hadn’t finished. He’d been in for a while. And looked frustrated, not busy.

The perfect time to divert his attention for a report.

“Tim,” he said in greeting, brows drawing in as Tim turned a hazy glare on him.

He knew the boy had slept more this week than he usually did in a fortnight, but the bags under his eyes had barely lessened. Still, it had never affected his efficiency before.

“Your report on the gala. Particularly Masters and Fenton,” he prodded gently, and Tim groaned loudly, tugging at his hair.

“Honestly Bruce? Vlad’s a shifty son of a bitch that I wouldn’t trust as far as I could comfortably spit a rat, and Danny Fenton’s a fucking mystery. Who knows who we are, by the way.”

That was more than just concerning, and Bruce tensed. If Danny had approached Jason as a way to get to them…

“You’re sure?” He asked almost hopefully; he’d never actually had reason to doubt Tim. Who clearly also remembered that, from his archly raised brow.

“He called Dick out in costume. Hinted he’d done some vigilante work under the name “Phantom”, which I cannot find in any database anywhere, and I can’t find a damn thing about Amity Park from anyone who actually lives there ANYWHERE online.”

Tim spun back to the batcomputer, gesturing angrily at the three biggest screens. Bruce scanned them all, brows furrowing.

Tourist websites. An article about the “most haunted town in America”, clearly the hard earned result of their constant ghost claims, and… social media?

“They don’t have fucking Twitter, Bruce,” Tim growled, tapping through browser window after window. He’d clearly been doing this for a long time.

“No Facebook pages for restaurants, city hall, nothing. Except that Tucker showed me their weather station’s Facebook on his PDA. And that isn’t how fucking Twitter or Facebook WORK.” He slapped the keyboard, and the screen jumped.

Bruce carefully edged the cold coffee mug a little further away, but didn’t interrupt Tim’s rant.

“They don’t have a single server dedicated to one tiny town in Bumfuck, Illinois, to isolate their posts, or the kind of protections that would keep people from one town from connecting to the wider internet. It shouldn’t be possible! Nothing the government has on them even raises a blip but beyond those records, they’re just gone!”

Tim flipped quickly through various different government databases, too quickly for Bruce to do more than scan, but he didn’t need to.

Amity Park existed. There were a few accounts linked, email addresses, websites, that should have gone to city hall. The school board. Local businesses.

Tim clicked viciously on one of the links, and the window immediately blanked.

“Something is seriously fucking wrong with this town, Bruce,” Tim declared, the anger gone as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving only a dangerous sobriety in its place, “and we’ve been ignoring them.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed, his concerns about Danny Fenton slotting neatly into a sudden, much larger concern.

Tim had pulled up the Justice League’s records on Amity Park. There were thousands of requests for help, every single one bearing the same status: Rejected.

Hundreds came from a single day, someone clearly hitting the button over and over and over again in a panic, desperate to get through.

And then nothing. Not a single request for years since. As if the residents had given up.

Bruce nodded to the screen.

“That cluster. I take it you’ve looked?” He asked tersely, slipping straight into Batman. Tim clicked a request at random.

“Not all of them,” he admitted bitterly, “but they’re pretty consistent.”

The panic was clear in the wording too, no attempt at spellchecking or grammar. Tim scrolled through the next few.

Key smashes. Curses, swearing, pleading for help. One phrase stuck out especially clearly to Bruce, repeated over and over.

‘The sky is green. Earth is gone and the sky is green.’

What the hell had happened in Amity Park?

Anger firming his jaw, Batman reached for his Justice League comm.

“I need to speak to John Constantine. Now.”

—————————

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Next chapter:

[hillerskaroyals]

cause of death:

[velvrei]

logan dating tony starks daughter !!! like he wants to dislike you soooooo bad because he automatically assumes you’re some spoilt brat who’s always gotten anything and everything that she’s wanted without having to lift a finger but after being forced to spend time with you (probably because of missions) he can’t help but fall head over heels for you!!! that stark charm is definitely something to be in awe of (ur dad and him still despise each other tho)

the other stark

pairing: older!logan howlett x stark!reader

summary: logan finally meets you, tony starks daughter at an avengers gala. as much as he thinks you are a stuck up brat who has everything handed to her, he couldn’t wait to have his hands on you.

warnings: smut, age gap (legal), somewhat forbidden romance, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position, face riding, oral (f receiving), kinda slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, really filthy smut, intentional overuse of the word fuck at the end, tony is pissed when he finds out

word count: 5k

a/n: don’t look to closely on the gif cause you’ll find the part where i didn’t try

nsfw below the cut!

logan was not looking forward to attending the avenger’s ‘met gala'. mostly because he knew he would be meeting the folks he was supposed to despise the most.

tony stark invited the x-men as a way of trying to mend the rip between the two groups; it was always avengers vs. the x-men, never avengers and the x-men. tony wanted to change that. logan didn’t.

as everyone arrive, there was a little red carpet where several photographers stood, flashing pictures in the hopes of capturing good shots of each of the visitors.

the x-men limo slowly approached the curb, with spectators surrounding the vehicle as everyone exited.

logan huffed and climbed out the door, disregarding the fangirls that surrounded him, eager to get the night over with.

he walked up to the carpet alongside his team, each member getting a solo shot. when it was logan’s turn, he rested his face and let the camera take pictures of him, stood up straight.

he was wearing dress pants, a button up, with the sleeves rolled up just above his forearms, and a black vest over his button up. the shirt easily displayed his muscles, which he claimed was unintentional, but it was vastly intentional.

the paparazzi turned their cameras as another limo pulled up, and out came peter parker, and logan rolled his eyes knowing it was all the younger avengers.

logan couldn’t help but watch as peter stepped to the side, holding his hand out as he watched a woman get out. he gulped, seeing who the woman was.

it was you, tony starks daughter, or so he heard from his team. he had never actually met you. as much as he wanted to persuade himself he wasn't drawn to you, it would be a complete lie.

you were wearing a long, form fitting dress. it was a dark red, almost maroon. you wore gold heels and chunky gold bangles and necklace along with it, making sure it wasn’t just one color, which was something logan noticed.

peter stood at your side and it made logan a bit curious as to what your relationship with him was, but once he saw you two begin bickering he quickly realized it was more of a sibling relationship.

logan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief as the two of you walked over, followed by some others that exited the limo. you walked in front of peter, walking up to the red carpet.

logan was still stood in the middle, he quickly turned his attention in front of him, looking at the camera for the picture.

“logan! pose with tony’s daughter!” one of the men behind the camera shouted. peter shot you a protective look, however you just shook your head, silently telling him to calm down.

logan almost huffed as you walked up next to him, even though you had never met the man, it would be more embarrassing to turn down the offer in front of millions of people.

“logan.” you say.

logan questions the fact you know him, wondering if he should’ve done his research beforehand.

“y/n.” he responds. he knows your name, and that’s it. he knows nothing else about you, and he is almost sure he doesn’t want to know.

the more he stood next to you, the longer he saw how many times you posed for the camera, wanting to roll his eyes but holding back knowing that would definitely get caught on camera.

you gave a small smile to the camera, turning to logan as you stood next to him. the two of you stood together, nothing more.

logan saw it as awkward, while you thought nothing of it, walking off the red carpet as he followed, quickly finding his team in attempt to avoid speaking to you any longer.

…

it had been an hour and logan hadn’t seen you again sense the introduction. he knew he was bound to be brought back to you again, but he didn’t want to be the cause of it.

logan finally spotted wade, approaching him, trying to pretend that wade wasn’t his comfort person.

“well hello my second favorite furball! i’ve missed you.” wade’s words make logan roll his eyes.

“missed ya too, bub. i barely know anyone here.” logan admits, quietly. he looks around the room to see if he saw anyone else he was comfortable with, but he just saw you in the corner, casually chatting with thor.

wade gasps, beginning to speak loudly on purpose. “the wolverine doesn’t know people-” wade starts but logan covers his mouth, staring daggers into his eyes.

“shut the fuck up. now is not the time.” logan says rather quiet, seeming a bit panicky as wade furrows his eyebrows.

wade goes to say a muffled remark but catches where logan’s distress is coming from. logan slowly lets go of wade’s mouth, watching as wade’s face brightens as if a light bulb had just been placed over his head.

“is billionaire bitch still your opp?”

“stop fucking talking like that.”

wade couldn’t help but giggle. “is it because of tony? he’s trying to make amends, stud muffin. i don’t know why you’re stressed.”

logan goes to respond, but takes a second, actually processing. “i- i don’t know why i’m stressed either if im being honest.”

wade smiled, appreciating the fact that his friend was actually processing his feelings instead of pushing away. that was something wade had taught logan, which was something wade had learned from his therapist.

“logan, you can’t hate the avengers forever. we’re gonna be forced to work with them. and as much as you may hate the starks, i’ve already looked at the first mission list and you’re partnered up with stark’s daughter.”

logan practically chokes on his champagne as wade speaks his last sentence. logan didn’t know whether to be curious or incredibly annoyed.

“oh, fuck me…” logan complains, rubbing his forehead.

wade holds back a giggle, “oh, i’m sure she will.”

with a smack to wade’s arm, the two boys noticed you and your father making your way over to them. logan almost cussed out tony in his head.

tony walked up, you not far behind your father, you have wade a side hug and gave logan a hand shake, that was strangely quick. tony smiled his millionaire smile. “thank you guys for joining us tonight. so glad you could make it, and i’m so happy we can finally kill this little rivalry.”

you knew your dad was being fake, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, especially when it was against wolverine and deadpool.

logan spoke the words, “i’m happy to be here,” but his face showed different, which earned him a smack in the arm from wade.

“i bet. we have a lovely spread of finger foods and you’re more than welcome to help yourself to some more champagne. would’ve told you how expensive it was before you decided to chug it all, however that’s okay.”

logan literally bit his tongue to stop himself from retaliating. if it was really okay as tony offered, tony wouldn’t care of the price.

after a few more dreadful minutes of banter between the two, and many side eye looks between you and wade, tony walked away, leaving just you, wade and logan.

which wade quickly saw himself out. “i’m gonna go find the woman with the magic hands, been dying to meet her. you two fartknockers try not to kill each other, okay?” his voice seemed so sarcastic but wasn’t, which made you almost smile.

wade walked away and left the two of you there. logan sighed as you started talking.

“you know, you don’t have to avoid me, logan.”

logan’s eyes shot up into yours. he wasn’t avoiding you. was he? “excuse me?”

you almost huffed, watching as his body tensed up. you stood up straight, even though you were still a bit shorter than him. “logan. i am not my father.”

your words cause logan to scoff. logan knew you weren’t your father. he just saw you as an exact replica of your bloodline. he didn’t want to say that right to your face, but you noticed he was processing a response, so you ignored the awkward silence and let him get his thoughts in order.

“obviously, you’re not him. your father is a 55 year old billionaire with a mustache. however you two are more similar than you think.”

his words make you think for a minute, deciding to keep the conversation a bit flirty, as much as you convinced yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

“listen, my father and i are just like you and wade. one is the caustic, sassy fighter who never knows when to quit. and the other is the hot one who simply follows the other's example.” your remarks force his brow to furrow.

out of the long phrase you just said, logan only processed one thing. “did you just call me hot?”

you smiled, batting your eyelashes before answered. “no, i called myself hot. you just happened to assume we’re similar, proving my point.”

logan hated how self centered you were. key word, hated. logan slowly realized how attractive your confidence was, but covered it up through his grunts and complaints of how stuck up you were. you weren’t wrong at all. you were hot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

logan rolled his eyes, “of course. you evil woman.” his words were half sarcastic, but you smiled, quickly remarking to his comment.

“you can call me evil, lo, but you can’t call me ugly.” and with that you walked away, leaving him there in his thoughts for the second time that night.

logan huffed. he would be lying if he said your words didn’t get to him. but he couldn’t. he was over half your age, and your father was the one person on this earth he couldn’t stand.

…

the first mission was the hardest. you and logan didn’t agree on much, the two of you couldn’t even decide on what food the team should get after the mission.

with each mission, logan felt his hatred for you slowly slipping away. as much as he tried to keep it because of who your father was, he couldn’t help but secretly adore you. your confidence, your skills, your remarks.

when you shared missions, logan was always paired with you. wade was sometimes there, but sometimes it was just the two of you. logan was the muscles, while you were the brains.

as much as he hated that, each mission he found it easier and easier to protect you. at first, he almost didn’t want to, so that way you could possibly learn your lesson.

then, by the third mission, he was protecting you like you were his own. you noticed those changes, knowing you were slowly getting to the man.

it was the aftermath of the fifth mission. all the avengers and x-men rented out a hotel through tony’s card. it was a smaller one, but was able to fit everybody. each partner was neighbored, but thankfully for logan not in the same room if opposite genders.

so logan was lucky enough to have a room to himself, however, that meant sleeping on his bed, knowing yours was on the opposite side of the wall. the walls weren’t exactly thick, which made it harder for him to keep himself together.

he felt filthy as he listened to your phone conversation with one of your friends. he refrained his interest and was just laying in his bed, reading a book when something you said striked his interest.

he assumed your friend asked about the person you were partnered up with, because as soon as your name left his mouth he couldn’t help but listen.

“yeah, i’m with logan.” he perked up, placing a book mark into his book before placing it onto his nightstand. he felt creepy listening in on your conversation, but convinced himself he had every right because he heard his name.

he heard nothing but mumbles from your friend, before he heard you speaking again.

“yeah, i can’t even lie, everytime i walk past him i just… there’s just something about him being my dad’s least favorite person that makes me want him even more.”

logan was at a loss for words. you wanted him? no. you couldn’t. he was practically forbidden. he felt like a pervert at the fact that his pants were tightening.

the friend laughed, and logan was not tuned out from your conversation, wondering what should be done from there. he quickly reminded himself that was your private conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear, so what he knows must remain a secret.

…

logan usually wasn’t one to get much sleep, especially during the nights during missions, and especially only hours ago he found out you had the hots for him.

it was around two in the morning. he tossed and turned, trying to figure out what he should do.

he paused, throat feeling dry. he stood, throwing on his pajama pants, not bothering to wear a shirt before he left his hotel room, walking down the single set of stairs to the mini den, where there was a small kitchen and some lounge chairs.

he unintentionally scanned the room, catching you sitting in one of the lounge chairs, book in hand and your reading glasses sat low on your nose.

he swallowed his spit, walking over the the cupboard and grabbing a small glass, filling it with clean tap water from the sink.

the noise of the water running through the sink brought you from your reading trance, you took your glasses from your face and set your book down, finally noticing logan’s presence.

you slowly stood up, and logan tried to ignore your actions. looking out the window above the sink and quickly downing his water.

before he could leave the room you stopped him. “got somewhere to be?” your words made him sigh, head falling down as he turned his body to you.

he shook his head, realizing his attempt to avoid you was unsuccessful. you gave him your signature smile, not breaking eye contact even though he was tempted to.

“just tired.” his eyes tell different. he wasn’t tired at all. just couldn’t sleep. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to now that he was down here with you.

“why are you lying to me? why are you avoiding me?” your words slow down as you mention him avoiding you, making sure your sentence really sinks in to his mind.

you couldn’t help but eye his shirtless figure, noticing how defined his abs we’re and feeling yourself become wet because of how manly he looked.

he notices your eyes and gulps, you watch his adams apple bob, and he suddenly realizes he needs to not look like a fucking pussy, even though he feels like one.

“why do you care?” his voice is back to his usual raspy. there’s your boy. you smile, finally recognizing he was back to the grumpy man you know and forbiddingly wanted.

“am i supposed to not care because my dad doesn’t? because i’ve told you many times. i am not my father.”

logan couldn’t help but search your body up and down. his act of checking you out, which you caught, makes your smile grow. “clearly not.” logan murmurs.

you eyebrows raise, your eyes never leaving his. “is that flirty comment leaving your mouth?” your words make him almost stutter but he takes a deep breath to stop himself from being vulnerable around you.

“no. it’s only flirting if you take it that way. i’m not flirting with you. i can’t.” logan’s last words make you curious. was he not flirting because he didn’t want to, or cause he couldn’t?

“you can’t? cause of my dad? fuck who my dad is. as much as i love him he’s gotten in the way of almost everything i’ve wanted that didn’t follow his path for me. i’m not letting him ruin this for me.” his breath quickened as you continued, “sometimes a girl needs to be taken care of. no matter who it is..”

your words make his eyes widen. he didn’t even know what to say.

we’re you flirting with him? he knew based on your phone call earlier that you wanted him because of the thrill it brought. but was that the only reason? did you actually want him?

“is that right?” his voice is low, trying to hide his desperation, and his words make you realize you’ve got him. he’s slowly letting down his forbidden barrier.

which is exactly what you wanted.

you step closer to him. “exactly right.” you were so close to him, only a few inches from his face, his husky breath fanning your face, you were able to smell his minty toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth just a few hours before.

you smiled, trailing a hand down his arm, watching satisfied as he shivered beneath your touch. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

logan backed up, finally letting his head reprocess what was happening. “no. y/n. we can’t. we can’t.” he repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s convincing you, or himself.

"why not? cause of my dad? don't you want to anger him? make him mad? isn't that what you've always wanted? well his daughter is standing right here, begging you to take care of her, to show her how she deserves to be taken care of."

logan almost moans at the thought. you step closer to him again, hand running down his arm.

you watched as he shivered, but instead of stepping back this time, he leans into your touch.

he sighs, your touch calming his nerves. he looks down at you, jaw clenching. "i'm.. too old for you. you deserve someone younger."

his words almost make you scoff in disagreement, and you couldn't help but disagree more with him.

"younger? all the guys my age are either assholes or taken, logan. i need someone older, to take care of me, to show me what it's like to be treated right, and fucked good. wouldn't you rather that that be you, rather than another man your age?"

it's like you knew just what to say, because he was standing there, as his dick hardened in his pants at your words.

he wanted you so bad. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to protest, for your sake, all he knew is that he wanted you so fucking bad.

your name tumbles from his lips, trying to think of what to say next.

“don’t tell me we can’t. because we can. we can do whatever we fucking want. we’re adults, aren’t we, lo?”

he sighs as the nickname slips from your mouth, he bites his lip, looking down at you, searching your eyes for any hesitation. he found none. just pure lust. he almost moaned as you gazed into his eyes, pupils dilating slightly.

“we are.” is all he says, eyes looking from your pupils, down to your lips. he licked his, eyes sharpening as he perked up.

you smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes, practically daring him to make the first move.

you decided to tease him a bit more, knowing exactly how to irritate him.

“i could always, go find another older guy to take care of me.” your words caused him to growl, slightly, jaw clenching at the thought of you with another boy, let alone an older guy.

“hell no. you’re mine.” his words make you smile, your expression still facing away from him as you turned your head, raising your eyebrows at him.

“i’m yours?” your words slightly questioning him, “prove it.”

at that moment, logan felt all his control slipping away.

the moment he’d been waiting for had finally come, he could finally devour you the way he had dreamed about many nights before.

you started to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in his direction and turning you around.

his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other on your waist, bringing you closer and finally connecting your lips with his.

he moaned into the kiss, knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. his lips were hungry, he was hungry.

logan let his hands roam along your body, both going down to grab your ass, squeezing and chuckling as you squealed into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, touching yours.

he couldn’t help but moan as your lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it.

your eyes looked at his. causing his body to tremble at how dirty you were being.

he quickly squeezed your ass again, as the two of you continued to kiss, spreading your legs and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who knew you were so fucking naughty.” he whispered against your lips, pecking them after speaking then setting you onto the counter.

he stood in between your legs, hands running up your thighs, noticing how short your sleep shorts really were.

he kissed you again, kissing your jaw and continuing down your neck.

he made out with the sensitive skin just below your chin, panting as your head fell back gently against the cupboard.

his hands slowly went under your t-shirt, nails running against your torso, and up to your chest, squeezing, hearing as you moaned, quickly bringing one out and covering your mouth.

“gotta stay quiet, sugar. wouldn’t want your father hearing and getting curious.”

you moan into his hand, and he just chuckles at you, enjoying how needy you’re being just for him. he’s grunting against your skin, his hand moving faster than his brain.

he tries to ignore the fact his dick is practically leaking in his pants as his hand runs up your thigh, closer and closer to your core.

his face is still in your neck, as his hand pushes your shorts and underwear aside, his other still around your mouth to silence your sounds.

he quickly slips a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he feels you moan into his hand. he pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole.

he stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. his two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

you whined into his hand, almost biting down onto his fingers.

he noticed that and removed his hand for a brief second before slipping his fingers into your mouth.

his lips moved from your neck to your ear. “god, look at you, letting my fingers stuff two of your holes,” he moaned around your fingers, smiling to himself as he shoves them down your throat.

his fingers leave your mouth after making you gag, his other set of two fingers still inside your pussy.

his other hand went to your neck, holding it as he licked a long stripe up and kissed it, nibbling on your soft skin.

“fuck, if your dad walked down right now and saw how much of a slut you’re being for me. would piss him off so bad, wouldn’t it, sugar.”

his words made you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers and whines as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you.

you finally let out a whimper, causing his smile to grow, his fingers leaving your pussy, leaving you slightly stretched out.

he placed a sweet, quick kiss to your lips before slipping you off the counter and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

he walked you upstairs to his hotel room, kicking the door open then kicking it closed behind him.

“sweet girl couldn’t handle being quiet, felt too fucking good didn’t it?”

he set you down, forcing you to stand, sitting himself on the bed. he unintentionally manspread, holding himself up on his elbows. “come on sugar. strip for me.”

his words only encouraged you, smiling as you took off your shirt in a teasingly slow manner, leaving you in your lace bra and skimpy pajama shorts.

he bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. normally you’d feel intimidated, but you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. there was no time to be intimidated by him.

you smiled as you slowly slid your shorts down your legs, revealing the matching panties, causing his head to fall back.

“a matching set? you planned this, didn’t you?”

all the dots connected in his head and he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of you planning to seduce him, and the fact you wanted him that bad to make a whole plan.

he brought his hand up, using his two fingers to signal you closer. without a word you stepped closer to him.

you straddled his body, leg wrapping around his waist, before you move his elbows and push him back onto the bed.

he moaned as you did so, looking up at you with wide eyes. “oh? is that how we feeling, sugar?” his words only made your confidence grow, palms resting on each of his pecks.

you tilted your head slightly, bringing one hand down to his pants, slowly palming the sensitive area you were sitting on.

“yeah, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on, either. i feel you through your pants. your little friend here’s practically screaming for me to touch him.”

your hand palms him, slowly gaining speed as logan feels his breath hitch, heart skipping a beat. the friction of your hand manipulating his clothed dick only made him harder, head falling back onto the bed, as his back arched like a slut.

the material of his pajama pants stimulating his cock in all the right places.

at this point your cunt was sticky, logan could almost feel it through the two articles of clothing, forgetting the fact yours was extremely thin.

“feels good, doesn’t it? you were already so fucking hard, lo. does it turn you on that i’m so much younger than you? that this is forbidden?” your words only make his hips buck into your hand, mouth falling open.

you smiled grew, biting your lip as you watched his desperate. “god, it does, doesn’t it? you gonna let me ride you?”

logan moaned and nod his head, “if you’re not inside me within the next ten seconds i’m flipping you over and fucking you myself.” his words made you moan, losing your dominance, feeling the sudden need for him to demolish you.

“really, you don’t want me to sit on your face?” logan’s mouth watered at your words, quickly changing his mind.

he moaned, “wait, fuck yes. give it to me. come here and sit on my fucking face.”

you stood off him, slowly taking off your panties, then bracing yourself and climbing back on top of him, slowly making your way up to his face. you smiled, seeing logan’s desperate expression, as if he needed your pussy in order to live. he yearned for you, and it made you wetter at the sight.

you slowly hovered over his face, lowering onto his mouth, moaning as soon as his nose rubbed against your clit.

his tongue immediately went to your hole, tongue fucking you. you couldn’t help but squirm, moaning again as you felt his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you onto his face.

logan is loving the desperate way you try to bite your lip to keep yourself from being too loud, as if anyone was up at this hour.

"eating me so fucking good," you moan out, feeling as logan moans against your cunt, your words were like fuel to him, and he found himself bucking his hips at nothing because of how beautiful and desperate you sounded.

you adored how eager he was for you, causing you to scream as he moved his tongue quicker, eventually moving his entire face after noticing your liking for his nose on your clit.

he was getting so into it, being so messy, pussy clenching around his tongue, but he slowly removed his arms from your legs, lifting you off his face, then down to his abs, uninstall sitting your clit onto his hard abs, causing you both to moan.

“fuck, need you to cum on my dick, you can cum on my face later. i need you now. need you to ride me so good.”

logan moaned out as you quickly moved down, pulling down his pants and boxers, and with no warning, quickly sinking onto his dick.

logan moaned out slightly louder than you, making your smile grow.

you slowly took your hair out from the ponytail it was in, letting it fall down. logan looked up at you in awe, watching as you started to ride his cock.

“i’ve imagined this so many times, and god, nothing is better than it actually happened. you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek before placing your hands to his v-line, using his hot body to brace yourself as you rode his thick cock.

as you began to bounce, logan was a moaning mess. he started fucking up into you, “come on sugar, ride it.”

his words of encouragement made your moans become louder. he smiled up at you, his hands now holding your hips, holding you in place as he fucked up into you.

“that’s it, baby. take it, take my fucking cock. so fucking tight around me.” he eyes moved from your glowing body, down to your pussy, practically sucking his dick in.

“look at you, sucking me in so good, like she was made for me. fuck.” he looked at your stomach, practically seeing a bulge move in and out of you.

“can see me in your tummy, fuck,” he points out, and you look down and moan. you smiled at him, watching his glistening body, as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“god that’s so hot, you’re so fucking big. told you i needed an older guy to take care of me.”

his name tumbles from your lips, he sees you in your desperate state. the two of you both feel your climaxes reaching closer, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking to you like that.

“good fucking girl.” his voice was so low and raspy, you couldn’t help but moan.

logan enjoyed the fact he had tony stark’s daughter currently bouncing on his cock, begging for more. it was forbidden, and the thought alone almost made him cum.

“you keep talking to me like that i’m gonna cum,” your voice is desperate and needy, and that turns him on to the max, slowly feeling himself reach the edge. he grunts, jaw clenching, feeling himself go almost animalistic, he grunts through his teeth.

“come on sugar. that’s it. cum on my fucking cock. riding me so fucking good i’m gonna cum myself. want you to moan so loud tony hears you from the floor below and knows his arch nemesis is fucking his daughter. wanna see my cum spill out of this sweet little pussy of yours.”

his words carry you over the edge, as he continues to talk you through it. “that’s it, bub, i’m so fucking close. this pretty little pussy is sucking me in so good, yeah i feel you clenching. dick so good it has you trembling, huh, sugar?” you cum on his cock, legs shaking as you stop bouncing, but logan grabs your hips and drills into you, chasing his own climax.

you feeling extremely overstimulated, you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines and how loud you were. logan finally came with you, mouth falling open as he grunted, moaned, and even almost whimpered.

your eyes scrunch shut, when you finally are able to open them you see logan under you, body glistening in sweat, his eyes closed shut and his head pushed back into the pillows, holding your hips so tight, like if he lets you go you’ll leave.

you smile as you come down from your high, logan quickly following you, his smile growing as his eyes meet yours again.

“that what you meant when you said take care of you?” his cocky words make you smack his bare chest, slowly pulling off him, your cum and his cum slowly spilling out of you, getting both of your attention.

“fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” logan mumbled under his breath.

you almost moaned again, feeling empty as you pull his cock out of your pussy, the cum dripping onto his v-line and abs, making your smile grow.

“yes, this is what i meant. fucked me so good.” you giggled, going to get up but logan flipped you over gently and pushed you down onto the bed.

“lay here, sugar. i’ll clean you up.”

logan grabs a damp, warm rag from the bathroom of his hotel room, bringing it to you and wiping up the cum, once you’re fully clean he tosses it into the hamper across the room. he goes to his bag, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to you.

he smiles and carefully brings it over your head, finding your tired state adorable.

once you have the shirt on, you lay down in the bed, pulling the covers over you sleepily, as he puts his pajama pants back on, climbing back into bed next to you.

…

the next morning, logan isn’t in bed with you, you check the time and it’s about 10am. your mission didn’t start for another few hours, so you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some of the hotel breakfast.

you slipped on some sleep shorts and slowly walked out of your room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being served.

you walked over to the counter, putting waffle batter into the waffle maker and turning around, trying to find your dad within the many avengers and x-men sat around the mini tables, but when you saw almost everyone staring at you, some with their mouths slightly open, you became confused.

you turned to see your dad, tony, sat at a table with steve, thor and bruce.

tony almost gasped as you turned around and continued making your waffle, not caring how loud he was.

“why the fuck does the last name on the back of you shirt say howlett.” as soon as your dad reveals that information, you avoid turning back around to face him.

logan smiles from his seat, watching as tony slowly turns to look at him at the table near him.

tony’s eye twitches as he looks over at logan. logan unfortunately cant hide his amused expression, almost giggling at the situation, watching as wade walks into the room, also noticing the back of your shirt.

wade jumps up and down, clapping his hands together. “is that logan’s shirt! omg, they finally fucked!”

bruce and thor can’t help but giggle to each other, as steve holds in his laugh.

tony eyes shoot from wade to logan, practically shaking from how mad he was. it was something logan wanted to take a picture of and remember forever.

“you stuck your dick in my fucking daughter!?” tony’s loud, obviously unhappy voice made you slowly turn around, you and logan making eye contact trying not to break into laughter.

“am i the only one furious at this? why the fuck are you all fucking laughing!?” tony shouts, standing up, almost spilling his coffee all over the table.

…

a/n: don’t forget to comment and tell me your thoughts ;)

[rafecameroninterlude]

hello, for kook! sweetheart!reader, can we have please reader wearing her brand's lingerie but without doing it on purpose after a charity gala, rafe rips her lingerie. kook! sweetheart!reader get upset because she really cares about it. and to punish him, she decides that he is not allowed to touch her for a week. of course she does everything to drive him crazy. tysm if you write this request !

warnings: teasing, slight dirty talk, suggestive ending

“fuck, i’ve been thinking about taking this dress off of you all night.” you moaned against rafe’s lips, both of you stumbling into your bedroom. once he had you in your plush sheets, leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, it wasn’t long before your hips were chasing his own, desperate for any kind of friction against your lace-clad cunt.

“rafe?” you whimpered, fingers running across the nape of his neck. “talk to me, baby.” you couldn’t help but arch into his chest when he kneaded the flesh of your thighs. “want you to fuck me so bad.” you mewled, making the man on top of you curse through gritted teeth. “yeah? want me to make you feel good?” you hummed, anticipation settling in your tummy.

you felt his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, your eyes shooting open when a rip! sounded through your room. “shit.” rafe was already pinching the bridge of his nose, your underwear basically ripped in two. “rafe i told you about this already!” you pushed him aside, leaving your boyfriend sexually frustrated and uncomfortably hard in his slacks.

“it was an accident, i swear!” he watched you get up and examine your lingerie in the mirror. “an accident? this is the third time, ray..” you let the lace material fall to the floor, your bra coming off next. “i’m getting in the shower.” you sighed, rafe rubbing his eyes. he definitely wasn’t getting any play tonight. “babe can we just-”

“no.” you slammed the bathroom door shut, rafe muttering a ‘drama queen.’ when he heard the water turn on.

the following week was absolute hell for him.

prancing around in skirts that did nothing to cover your ass, swatting away his hands everytime he tried to touch you, teasing him endlessly and leaving him high and dry, he’d decided he finally had enough. “i’m begging here, alright? please sweetheart.” rafe had you cornered, a pout on your lips as you looked up at him.

“you know how much i love my lingerie.” you traced his lips as he hummed. “i love it too.” rafe snaked a hand down your side, resting it on the small of your back. “you’re killing me here.” you giggled when he feigned a painful expression. “i promise i won’t rip your precious panties.” he huffed out a laugh, only making you smile teasingly.

“i know you’re not..” you leaned in, pecking the corner of his mouth, “because i’m not wearing any.”

[mariespen]

Never Alone ₊✩ˎˊ˗

rafe x reader angst/comfort ⊹˚.⋆ Summary: Rafe goes to sleep alone after reader doesn't listen to him, but something's missing. Warnings: arguing/yelling, reader being in the wrong, insults and some stronger language

⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆

“I can’t believe this.. I can’t believe you.” Rafe said, pointing an accusatory finger and shaking his head in disappointment.

You stood there, any bit of attitude that you walked in with had left your body the moment you saw the look in his eyes.

“Rafe, I just lost track of time!” You protested, unintentionally sounding whiny.

“You don’t fucking listen!” His voice raised and you stood smaller as he continued his rant, “Everything I say is in and out with you.” His eyes narrowed at your face.

There was only one thing that pushed Rafe off the edge; not listening to what he tells you. Months ago he had told you not to hang out with the pogues. Since then, you’d been sneaking around with them to not piss off your short-tempered boyfriend. 

It’s proving to be true that you also should’ve listened to him when he told you to be ready for a gala by 6pm sharp tonight. The Cameron family was being honored at the country club for being generous contributors after a particularly large donation made by Rafe’s father.  Of course, you found yourself adventuring with the pogues, stained with dirt and very far from home at 6pm. 

According to him, Rafe had been covering for you all night, saying that you had the flu and wouldn’t be able to make it. Your arrival was heavily anticipated because your grandfather was a big name in the country club. In turn, Rafe needed you there to make conversation and for a good excuse to leave early. He was beyond livid when he stormed into the house at 9pm and realized that you still weren’t home. When you finally tried to sneak into the bedroom thirty minutes later, praying Rafe was still away and racking your brain for believable excuses, he was waiting with an angry red face.

It didn’t help your case at all when Rafe saw JJ Maybank and Kiara Carrera driving away from his house.

“Rafe m’sorry-'' you tried to apologize again, but he cut you off.

“I don’t care!” He stared at you for a moment, taking in your expression before starting again, “Jesus, s’like you’re a child.” he mumbled, ready to end the night angry.

Until you rolled your eyes right as he turned around to face you again.

“Rolling your eyes at me, hm?” He said, the anger coming back into his tone, “y’know what? If you want to hang out with those assholes so bad, go on. S’where you belong.” He said, his tone biting into you as he turned again.

Tears welled in your eyes. You knew Rafe had brought you this kook lifestyle when you were struggling after your mother left the island. You thanked him for two weeks after you moved in with him, then the two of you didn’t speak about it. It’s been a year since then and this was the first time he had brought it up. You didn't think he'd hold it above you.

A sob escaped the confines of your throat when he slammed the door behind him. You let your body crumble, crying into your hands. He had barely let you get a word out and you hated him for it. You knew you were in the wrong, but his words kicked you in the gut.

You picked your own sobbing body up, quieting down and making your way to change from your dirty clothes. You could hear Rafe’s pacing steps and occasional annoyed sighs from downstairs. After wiping the dirt off of your body and getting changed, you laid in the huge bed the two of you shared, trying to distract yourself. You already knew that Rafe planned to sleep in a guest room downstairs and you told yourself it was fine. 

An hour passed and turned into two, the clock ticking as you eventually watched three hours pass. You were restless, just like how you always were without Rafe. You both couldn’t sleep without the other’s company. You were going to lay awake all night until a soft knock on the door sounded around the room and an exhausted Rafe tried to quietly walk in. You sat up, looking at his hooded eyes.

“Rafe, I’m so sorry..” You took in a breath as you prepared to spit all of your reasons out at once.

“No, m’sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He breathed out, sitting on the bed next to you.

“No, Rafe. I was irresponsible, baby please.. please forgive me.” You whispered your last words, tears forming again, “I’ll listen. I promise I’ll listen.”

“Shh baby..” He cooed, laying down and holding you to him, “we can talk in the morning. Js need you..” He muttered.

You meekly smiled into him, happy to know that his soft spot for you hadn’t worn thin.

“I love you.” You whispered into his chest, but the only response you got back were his small snores.

⊹˚.⋆︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵⊹˚.⋆

[halsteadlover]

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: a TikTok trend turns out to be the best surprise of your life.

• Warnings: few curse words and dirty talking, highly suggestive at the end.

• Word count: 1040.

• A/N: I don’t know how to feel about this one to be honest 😭 Let me know what you think and like, comment and reblog if you want. As always thank you so much for your constant support I missed you all so so much ❤️

“Hi guys!” You smiled, taking a step back to show your entire frame in the video. “Come here baby,” you called Charles waving with your hand and encouraging him to come closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your hip, leaving a kiss on your temple before bringing his gaze to your figures on the phone screen.

You were making a TikTok and you had finally found the perfect opportunity to follow the trend of calling your boyfriend ‘husband’, wanting to capture Charles’ reaction really bad.

“You look divine,” he whispered in your ear, his voice so low it was unlikely it registered. You giggled as you looked at him and leaned against his body, placing a hand on his shirt-covered chest and letting the scent of his cologne invade your senses.

“Sooo,” you continued, turning back to the actually absent audience. “I’m here with my husband, we just finished getting ready for the gala…”

You suddenly stopped, no longer able to keep a serious expression when Charles turned his head so quickly you almost feared he had broken his neck. You burst out laughing when he opened his mouth in disbelief, looking at you with a shocked expression you’d never seen on his face before.

“What? What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“What did you just say?” He exclaimed in amazement and you finally turned your gaze to him, your heart exploding in your chest noticing the dazzling smile he had on his lips as he looked at you.

You giggled again. “I said my husband…”

His hand gripped your hip, fingers pressing into the straws of your dress. “Fuck say that again.”

“My husband,” you repeated, now completely forgetting about the TikTok. “Does it bother you?”

“Bother me?” Charles took your hand that was still resting on his chest and directed it to his heart. You smiled as you noticed it was wildly beating.

I guess it didn’t bother him.

He pressed his lips to yours, sucking your soul from your body with just that contact. “Again.”

“You really like the way that ‘my husband’ sounds huh?”

“Mon dieu yes…” His lips trailed a trail of kisses along your jaw to your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” he whispered in your ear and you almost fainted.

“Alright, alright, enough…” you giggled as heat spread across your cheeks, remembering your phone was still recording. You pulled away from his grip and stopped the TikTok before Charles grabbed you again and pressed his lips against yours, this time without any inhibitory brakes and not caring about your meticulously cared for makeup. His mouth devoured you, possessing every fiber of your body.

“Oh god babe…” you breathed barely knowing what even was your name anymore. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Your husband…” He sighed “That was the hottest and sexiest thing I have ever heard in my life. What are you doing to me?” His hands roamed everywhere on your body, now uncontrollable as they groped your flash. “If I had known how beautiful it sounded I would’ve done it much sooner.”

“Do what?”

He reached into his suit’s pocket and pulled out a small box, an unmistakable little box which sight was enough to give you a heart attack.

You gasped, your hands over your mouth when he opened that little box and got on his knee.

“I know it’s not what you deserve, this isn’t how I planned for this to happen and I really apologize but I honestly can’t take it anymore baby. I’ve been carrying this ring with me for months now, always waiting for the perfect moment but it never seemed to be enough because I wanted to make the perfect proposal, just like you deserve… But… God… I also know as long as there’s you and me, everything will always be perfect, it doesn’t matter the time or place that’s why I was planning to propose after the gala, I had prepared…” he spoke, his eyes still fixed on yours. “Fuck it doesn’t matter now because hearing you call me your husband even if it’s just a trend on TikTok made me regret not doing this sooner and realize how stupid I was to wait this long. I can’t wait to hear you say it for the rest of my life, so…”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You exclaimed jumping without even letting him finish his sentence, your face streaked with tears.

He chuckled, his eyes equally filled with tears. “You don’t even want me to ask?”

“Fuck hurry up and ask me so I can say yes a thousand times!”

He smiled and your whole world stopped.

“Mon amour, would you like to make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Yes fuck yes!” You screamed in hysterics and threw yourself into his arms, almost making both of you fall on the floor.

His laughter rang through the room and you found yourself leaning into him as he slid the ring along your finger, noting with so much joy it was exactly what you had always wanted and remembering how you had mentioned it only once a while ago and how he had remembered it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him until there was nothing left of the two of you but jelly.

“We’ll celebrate later baby, now get naked because I want to fuck you so bad I think I’m going to explode. And I won’t stop until you won’t even be able to walk out this room.” His hand tightened around your throat, squeezing lightly and enough to make you dizzy with desire, just how you liked it. His lips, red and swollen from your impetuous kisses, continued to caress yours, leaving you more and more impatient and eager.

“What about the gala?” You managed to ask, hoping he cared as much about it as you did. You just wanted to be with your fiancée.

I’m a fiancée now oh my god!

“I don’t give a damn about the gala or anything or anyone else other than my fiancée,” he replied and you mentally did a backflip. “The only thing I can think about right now is how good is going to feel to be buried deep inside my wife,” his fingers unzipped your dress, making it falling around your feet. “How good it’s going to see that ring wrapped around my dick.”

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667

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[wyvernest]

bright red lust

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!trophy wife! reader

warnings: smut, car limo sex, misogynistic undertones (reader feels good about being a trophy wife), pda, teasing, dryhumping, unprotected sex, creampie, cowgirl

summary: you attend a gala with miguel and tease him until he finally gets you to himself in his limo

translation: "que rico" = 'how nice'

Any woman’s dream is to be his wife. For his rank, his money, his reputation, his everything. And it feels so good to know that he's so desired.

Because you’re at his side, not them. It’s you whom he spends his money on. It’s you whom he buys all the exquisite dresses and gowns for, all the best things you could ever want or need. It’s you whom he makes love to after a tiring day. Or after you wake up. Or anytime, for that matter.

You’re irreplaceable, but at the same time at his disposal. You don’t see it as a price paid but rather as a bonus. You’ve never been pampered so good before, loved so good, fucked so good.

So that’s why, whenever he has a new gala or special event to attend, you let him pick your dress out of all the various selections you spend so much time on finding. 

“Too long.” he dismisses, vision darting from your mauve-satin covered legs to your face. He’s manspreading on the king size bed of your presidential hotel room, hair dishevelled and half lidded eyes sleepy, relaxed. 

“You’re so picky today. I only got a few more!” You giggle with a faux offended expression. Behind the façade of worry that he won’t be satisfied with any of the looks, you secretly love these little fashion runaway sessions, feeling like his own personal top model, trying out different outfits for him. If you weren’t in a hurry, you wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to sit on his lap and accidentally grind your ass on his crotch when you got up as part of the little show. 

“Mm.” He hums, seemingly unaffected by your playful frustration. He knows you love it when he acts so pretentious and superior, but he loves you, and he loves the enthusiasm with which you show him everything. “Next, bebita. This one’s sombre.”

After a few minutes and struggles, you manage to pull on the pièce de résistance; a bright, blood-red skin tight satin dress. Miguel’s eyes widen at the sight of you, brows raised in silent approval and admiration. The length isn’t a problem this time, your beautiful legs and thighs peeking out with every step through the long slit on the right. The fabric is wrapped so deliciously around your breasts, slightly pushing them up together, plump and tantalising. 

"Maybe this one's a bit too much? I-"

"Do a 360." His eyes lit up, attentive and pleased. You twirl, making sure to slightly stick your ass out, checking yourself out in a full body mirror nearby.

"Me gusta." He gets up from the bed, gripping your waist to place a needy kiss on your cheek, before placing his lips on your own. You take his face in your hands, melting into his embrace. “This is the one.” His deep, low whisper sends shivers up your spine, your brain short circuiting. Who are you to say no to him? To those pretty, dark brown, red-tinted eyes?

"I'm gonna go get ready now. Thank you, papi." You turn around, yelping as he doesn't miss the opportunity to smack your ass as you do, smirking to himself.

When you finally arrive at the gala, you get out of your limo and start flaunting your exquisite dress, proud and flashing. You feel Miguel instantly cling to you, a secure, strong hand on your waist, its touch fervent and possessive. 

He doesn’t fail to notice all the other spiders gawk at you, turning their heads too sharply just to catch a glimpse of his beautiful wife. All the lingering looks, the whispered words of admiration, all for you. The hand on the dip of your waist tenses, both in immeasurable pride and a hint of stinging jealousy. But it felt amazing. 

All the comments, the remarks.

“Can’t believe he pulled such a pretty thing.”

“Imagine coming home at the end of the day to her.”

“Maybe being the leader of Spider-Society has its perks.”

They thought he wouldn’t ever hear them, but his enhanced senses have little to no limits. He feels his pants slightly tighten at the thought that so many other men want you. And yet, it’s his cock that you beg for, late at night. 

And you’re aware of this weakness of his. You know that showing everyone that you’re his gets him hard in no time. And as the brat you are, you can’t help it. Especially not when all eyes are on you two. Not when the paparazzi’s come in.

You run a cursory hand from his chest to his abdomen, arching your back, pretty figure on display for the pictures. Bolder. Your hand finds his cheek, his jaw, your eyes never leaving him. You enjoy feeling like an accessory, something that accentuates him, his masculinity. Something that belongs to him.

No other man has ever made you feel this way.

You gesture to him to lean down, your heels still not enough for you to be able to reach his face without his aid. He does, and you place a tantalising peck on his cheek, light enough so that your bright lipstick doesn’t transfer. 

Feeling him stiffen, unsure of your teasing, you decide to risk it and lean your face down to the crook of his neck. 

Hundreds of photographs flash as you kiss his neck, your soft lips lingering just a second too late, only for a red print to remain plastered on his skin, for everyone to see. 

He turns to you with an expression worth a thousand words. You know that face all too well. 

As soon as you get back in the limo following the after-party, you wave good-bye to all your acquaintances and friends. The driver takes a turn and exits the flash-lit area. 

Turning to look at Miguel, any conversation or small talk on the event you just attended gets smushed into a heated kiss you both longed for, his hands on your hips, pulling you into him on the back seat, your arms thrown over his shoulders.

When he grabs your thigh, you waste no time in lifting your leg over his waist, straddling him without breaking away from the kiss.

His warm hands slide underneath the red satin, grabbing at the globes of your ass greedily. You start grinding on him, your damp panties rubbing onto his erection in his pants.

Your breasts nearly pop out of your dress during the hazy make out session, and he parts from your lips to start kissing down your neck, stealing a glance down at them. Throwing your head back, your body turns into putty in his strong arms. He licks and kisses at the delicate skin of the tops of your tits, slowly and reflexively grinding up into your heat.

You moan his name, your breathing getting heavy.

He knows that having you in risky places only makes you even wetter for him, and he can't get enough.

"Ah! Oh- Miguel!" You whimper as a heavy hand smacks your ass, making you jerk forward into him, your tender body smushed against him so perfectly.

"Here? Are you sur-"

"Here, yes." Hot, shallow breaths fan your neck as he speaks in between kisses and gentle bites. "Can't wait any longer."

Your hands fumble with his belt and he quickly rips your panties at the seam, making a hole over your slit. Panting and rushing, you pull his hard, meaty cock out and align it with your dripping cunt. You feel him slip into you, nice and slow, filling you up with the familiar euphoria you have craved so ardently for the whole night.

He groans as he enters you, wet, warm and tight. Just when you were getting adjusted to his size, the limo goes over a speed bump and his cock thrusts up into you with the turbulence, its bulbous tip kissing your cervix.

You feel him deep in your guts, and as you begin riding him, he starts to buck his hips up into you, making you see stars.

"Que rico", he pants out, whispered, "having a pretty thing like you all over me." He

Keeping the thrusts quick and shallow, so as not to make your shenanigans too obvious, you bounce yourself on his cock; at first for his pleasure alone. Seeing him drowned in ecstasy will eventually being you your own pleasure as well.

All until he brings a hand to your swollen clit, rubbing furiously, throwing you over the edge in mere seconds. You come all over his dick, eyes rolling back, his name falling off you tongue in a strangled moan, sweet music to his ears.

He feels your pussy pulsate oh so deliciously around his cock, and it doesn't take him much longer to also release his load in your velvet walls, painting your insides white, claiming you as his.

As soon as he comes down, catching his breath, he smothers you with another fierce kiss, groaning into your mouth as you stir with his still sensitive cock inside you.

"We should do this again sometime, Mr. O'Hara." You tease, your lips straying away to nibble at his pulse point.

"Oh, we will, bebita."

divider by @cafekitsune as always

a/n: finally wrote this 7 mesozoic eras after it was requested sorry man

[love-belle]

every dead end street led you straight to me !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which no one knows how they're both each other's daylight.

or

for when you find the one you were meant to find all along. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // f1 drivers x platonic!driver!fem!reader // milo manheim x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - i am SO sorry for leaving u all but i had my finals going on and now i am DONE with school i just have my college entrance exams left and then im free free FREEEEEE !!!! i love u all sm thank you <333 i hope u like this !!

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by milomanheim, lewishamilton, carmenmmundt and 2,528,519 others

yourusername me n baby boy

edit : he says it's baby MAN i disagree ☝️‼️

11,528 comments

username NAHHHH HOLD UP ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username who u calling baby boy 😞

username gf reveal his face we won't be mean to him pls pls pslase

username screaming what in the world in this

username y/n soft launching her man wasn't on my bingo card this year like OH KAY

username bf reveal when ‼️‼️‼️

username LMAOOOO THE EDIT

username cannot wait for the grid to be summoned and be Weird

landonorris i thought i was the baby boy

-> yourusername girl u r a problem species

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-> landonorris no thanks

-> yourusername FUCK UUUU FUCKKKKKK U - the bf

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username speechless who is THAT

username milo 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 did u get lost 🤨🤨🤨🤨

-> milomanheim wdym i'm not even here

-> username gaslighter 🫵🫵

username cannot wait for race weekend it's gonna be sooooooo fun 🤞🗣️🗣️🗣️

alexandrasaintmleux the cutest 💘

-> yourusername no u 🫵🫵🫵

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username y/n casually wrecking homes and stealing her colleagues gfs lile yasssss queen i support it

-> username support women's rights and wrongs 🗣️🗣️🗣️‼️‼️‼️🤞🤞🤞

username madly obsessed with her this is life altering to me

milomanheim real life angel visited the angel store !!!!!!! employees must've been happy

-> maxverstappen1 biblically accurate angel but sure

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milomanheim "baby boy" wasn't even directed at me and i blushed

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-> milomanheim wow

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, alex_albon and 2,157,816 others

milomanheim ur in her dms i'm on google searching nutrient rich soils i'd keep her in if she was a worm

10,996 comments

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username HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS HANDS

*liked by yourusername*

-> username MISS GIRL WTFFF

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username prettiest boy oh my god

username not to alarm anyone but half the grid is here and i am having Thoughts

username Y/N??? LANDO??? ALEX???

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-> milomanheim let the queen know she shouldn't settle for less ☝️🗣️

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username ALEX AND LILY BEING BSF WITH MILO????? WHAT IS THIS????? WHAT WILL BE NEXT????? LEWIS GIVING HIM FASHION ADVICE????? CHARLES SAYING SOME INCOHERENT SHIT?????

-> username baby breathe

-> username FUCK OFF LUCAS

lewishamilton i see someone's challenging my paddock icon title

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yourusername HANDS HANDS HANDS HANSD HSNDS

*this comment was deleted*

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-> milomanheim ty

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yourusername 🦕

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-> username russell george i am sorry they are putting u through that😞😞😞

username MILOOOOOOOOOO AND Y/N IM SCREAMING

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their close friends' stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by milomanheim, maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 2,517,986 others

yourusername there are things (inappropriate stuff) i wanna say to u (my BOYFRIEND) but i'll just let u (my COLLEAGUES) live

11,962 comments

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landonorris thank you because i saw what you texted him this morning and osc had to physically stop me from bathing with bleach

-> yourusername why are u acting as if u literally didn't just straight up ask us if we "needed a third"

-> landonorris LIES SHE LIES SHE'S A LIAR

-> oscarpiastri mate the entire paddock was there

-> landonorris details but like..........do u

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username mother never misses

username lewis WISHES he was her

-> yourusername RIGHTTTT

-> lewishamilton roscoe's godmother privileges REVOKED

username f1 grid will never fail to make to laugh bc what do u mean lando asked y/n and the bf if he needed a third and what do u MEAN that y/n is roscoe's godmother

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milomanheim speak out ur truth queen !!!!!!

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-> milomanheim i am scared

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milomanheim before u say anything

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milomanheim i love u

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-> milomanheim ❤️

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-> username crazy about them

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 2,317,637 others

milomanheim something about how taylor swift said every dead end street led u straight to me 💘

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

username I SCREECHED OH MY GOD

username we knew but OH MY GOD THE REVEAL

username and everyone cheered

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username crying LOOK AT THEM!!!!!

landonorris how you've both grown up! i still remember the first time she saw you and cried to me about how fucking pretty you are :)

-> milomanheim OHHHH ????

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username milo with that drawing is so "what if i told u i'm a mastermind"

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username if my relationship isn't like this then i don't want it 💔💔💔

username lord i see how kind u have been to others

username and adding onto my 252719262 reasons we have THIS

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username AHHSHSHSHDHSJJDJDNX 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

yourusername also about how she said i wanna teach u how forever feels

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-> charles_leclerc give him some time he's buffering

-> username something tells me that this is a very regular occurrence

-> oscarpiastri it is

yourusername my baby's fit like a daydream

-> milomanheim 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️❤️❤️❤️❤️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯🥰🥰🥰🥰☝️☝️☝️☝️☝️

-> username what is happening

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yourusername not to be a hopeful romantic loser on the main but i find u in every love song i listen to so yea

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yourusername love u

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-> username NO HE DID NOT 😭😭😭

-> username bro needs to learn how to hesitate

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by milomanheim, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and 2,785,159 others

yourusername if the whole world was watching i'd still dance with u

tagged milomanheim

12,628 comments

username GOODBYE

username this post right here your honour

username the way i teleported to the railway track

username SCREAMING SJSJTRBCUCJ

username pls block me b4 posting happy stuff (im so happy i cry)

landonorris you can't even order on your own sir DOWN

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username NOT HIM PEELING ORANGES FOR HER IM GONNA SCREAM

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-> username i had to take SEVERAL deep breaths so as to not break down in front of my family

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username IN A WORLD OF BOYS HE'S A GENTLEMAN

*liked by yourusername*

lilymhe with me obviously 🙄

-> yourusername obviously

-> milomanheim 😧

-> alex_albon 😧

username if he doesn't stand outside my window with a sign asking when can he see me HE IS NOT THE ONE

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username going crazy over these photos like there's SO MUCH content

username y/n feeding us those milo crumbs

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username i truly cannot wait for milo to be in her garage bc we all know that they're stupidly in love with each other and watching them giggling and smiling and laughing will be much more entertaining than racing

-> username nah bc bro doesn't know how to function with her around

-> username i don't even blame him bc that's Y/N Y/L/N

charles_leclerc how is this relationship gonna work when none of you has the guts to go and say that they got your order wrong

-> yourusername ur saying this as if alex hasn't been the one to go up and say that u asked for no pickles

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username i live for y/n terrorizing the grid fueled by nothing but coffee and/or spite

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milomanheim i would peel oranges for u forever dw baby i got u 🍊🍊🍊

-> yourusername this is so sweet i cried stfu

milomanheim cannot believe i get to tell everyone ur my gf like OH MY GOD 😭😭😭

-> yourusername bf

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-> landonorris bf AND gf ?

-> yourusername STOP ASKING

milomanheim wdym i cannot love u more than life itself 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄 lies bc i do love u more than life itself

-> yourusername i would sacrifice max for u

-> milomanheim doesn't mean that much bc i know u would sacrifice him for a juice box

-> maxverstappen1 OH REALLLLLLLLY

milomanheim angel 🍒

-> yourusername no u

milomanheim u make me feel all golden like daylight

-> yourusername u make me feel all i like shiny things but i'd marry u with paper rings

-> username bye y'all this was fun

-> username brb i need to test if my toaster is waterproof or not

[poppy-metal]

arrange marriage with patrick where you know he doesn’t love you. this entire thing was cooked up by your parents, and you feel guilty for being the one that destroyed his freedom. so when he slips away for unexplainable periods of time, you keep quiet. you know who he’s seeing, what he’s doing, as he returns with a slack jawed smile and missed hair. it stings slightly, knowing you’re in a loveless marriage and that all chances of martial, conventional bliss were down the shitter, but what can you do? he doesn’t want to be with you. he owes you nothing, he’s just as trapped as you are. you’re polite and warm, you ask about his day, you want to be friends if nothing else. patrick gets frustrated, mostly because of the guilt. he is objectively awful to you, and you’re still so sweet. so sweet. you look at the hickeys on his neck and you don’t scream, don’t yell. all you do is cover it for him before you have to go to gala. you cover it! how can you be so forgiving? how can you not care? he fucks tashi 3 times a week. he’s being awful. and you still smile when he comes home. take his coat, kiss his cheek. any time he’s tried to have sex, tried to do the proper thing and produced another heir to the family fortune, you graciously turn him down, like you’re doing him some kind of grand favour. when sometimes, he just actually does want to fuck you. it’s hard. it’s weird. he kind of wants you?? but you’re so distant. he strangely feels a longing for you, missing something he never had. what did you look like, sound like when you laughed uncontrollably? what did you want to be when you were a little girl? who are you?

patrick knew hating you wasn't fair. it didn't stop him from treating you likes shit, though. didn't stop him from barely putting in effort during your wedding, from looking bored during the vows, from planting a stiff kiss on your lips, and then proceeding to treat you like you didn't exist.

it wasn't your fault, and yet it was. he couldn't exactly up and tell his parents to fuck off - though god knows he desired nothing else than to do just that. in the end, he was a conduit. a vessel to carry on a legacy he didn't give two shits about.

he knew it was coming.

he just wish he had more time.

more time to be reckless. more time to get drunk at parties. more time to be a general stain on society. more time with tashi duncan.

but destiny waited for no one or whatever the fuck, and now here he was, shackled to you and resenting every fucking thing about you.

at least you knew how to keep your mouth shut.

it would have been a bitch to deal with you running and tattling to his mother about how he hadn't fucked you yet - how he was still seeing tashi. as much as he appreciated your discretion, he also hated you for it.

you had no fucking backbone. you were nothing like tashi. she was bold and rash and clawed her way from nothing and took none of patricks shit. you took it all. mouth properly suctioned to his asshole just like every other spineless dipshit in his family.

he knew you saw the hickeys she left on his neck. knew you smelled the sex on his skin when he stumbled home at 4am and slid into bed, finally. he saw you register these things, the scratch marks down his back - saw your dainty little chin wobble and then still. saw your eyes dart away. and he felt something nasty claw at his chest - at your lack of self respect.

your husband was sticking his dick in a pussy that wasn't yours and you didn't have anything to fucking say about it? he saw the hurt in your eyes in the mirror. grinned at it. hoped today would be the day you'd snap and fight back, but you never did.

he found himself leaving tashis arms angry - angry about coming home to a brick wall and a wife who didn't seem to care what he did.

one night - he found himself drunk after a night out with tashi. sprawled out on his chair as he lazily watched you get dressed for bed.

he found himself hardening in his slacks. dick twitching with interest.

you weren't ugly, was the thing.

you were actually fucking hot. you had a plump sweet little body. you hid it under atrocious modest wear, but he could see it now in the outline of your fat tits outlining your nightgown. the curve of your waist. child bearing hips. he could laugh, if any of this was funny.

he tongued the inside of his cheek as he straightened, watching you.

“you dress like a 1950s housewife.” cutting. meant to embarass you, which he can see it does. he feels a thrill in his chest to get a reaction out of you at all. “it's fucking weird.”

your lips press together - you don't look at him as you uncap your lotion and spread it onto your fingers. “I am a wife.” you tell him softly.

“what was that?” he heard you. he's just annoyed by your mously little voice.

you flick a glance at him, and he sees a flash of irritation on your doll like features. it makes you look pretty, he resents to realize.

“I said I am a wife.” you say, more firmly this time. “just because you don't want to act like a husband doesn't negate what we are - what I am.”

you say it with a sense of pride. a lifting of your chin. and patrick - he has to fucking laugh then. licks his lips and downright giggles with it. his cheeks are flushed with alcohol and he drags himself to his feet, shaking his head.

“you're fucking unreal.” he approaches you, you've turned your back to him - slathering lotion onto your legs, the sweet vanilla scent hits his nostrils as he gets close, and he sways a little. “I mean. are you even real? or are you made out of plastic? did mommy and daddy make you at a factory? the perfect wife factory.” he stops behind you, touches the end strands of your hair, rubs them between his fingers. your hair is fine and soft like silk. it runs like water through his fingers when you tug your head forward.

“of course I'm real.” your voice trembles a little. he's gotten to you, he thinks. and he likes that he has. feels his cock twitch again. “why would you even say that?”

you're finished putting on the lotion but you stay with your back turned to him. he wonders if this is a small act of defiance on your part. he wonders if you were raised to be this fucking submissive and subservient and if any part of you resents it. wishes you could turn around and claw at his face and call him a bastard. but no. that'd actually make the evening interesting. and you were set on being as dull as fucking drywall.

“she's nothing like you, you know.”

he sees your spine stiffens. feels a cruel twist in his stomach that hearing about his mistress upset you.

you don't answer him so he continues, leaning in closer so his breath blows the wisps of your fine hair across your shoulders - “she's firey and confident. she lights up a room when she walks in it, grabs everyone's attention by their throat because she demands it. it's fucking sexy as hell.” he inhales your scent, warm vanilla, sweet and soft. he wants to crush that softness under his foot. crush it to dust. “and god -” he lets his voice get low and seductive, that scratchy quality “- her fucking pussy. it's the best thing I've ever felt. like sliding right into nirvana. I could fuck her for hours -”

your spin around - your eyes are burning. not with tears, though. with fury. they blaze with more life in them than he's ever seen before and it cuts his sentence right off - sucks any further words out of his chest -

“go to her then.” you hiss, venom from your lips. he thinks if it were possible, steam would be seeping from your pores. your cheeks are flushed and your lips are bee stung plump, the indents of your teeth marking the soft flesh. he realizes you'd been literally nawing on your bottom lip to stay quiet. “you think I want to deal with you like this? that I want to deal with a husband like you at all? go to your mistress and bury all your problems in here and leave me alone to run the house and do your job for you. like I've been doing. I don't need you here.”

you turn back around, your hair swishing and smacking him in the face.

he glares at your back. his fingers twitch as an anger worse than he's ever felt boils his blood.

“you can't talk to me like that.” he says, cold and deadly despite the liquid fire running through his veins. “im your fucking husband.”

you laugh - and despite everything - it sounds like bells tinkling. pretty and lyrical. he inhales again. steadies himself with a hand on your vanity.

“you haven't earned that title.” you shake your head as you walk to your side of the bed. you're dismissing him. ending the conversation. “I doubt you even know what the word means - if asked to define it.”

something about the condescending tone - one he'd grown up hearing from his parents lips, from everyone around him who told him he'd fail before he even began. how tashi talked to him sometimes, dismissing him as a privileged kid instead of a person with feelings whenever they disagreed - something about it - he finds himself suddenly in your space - gripping your arm and yanking you back against him -

“you want me to define it?” he asks, sounded half crazed. he rucks your nightgown up, and despite himself, he groans at the feeling of your soft and supple skin - never touched before and new and so fucking good under his hand - “you want me to act like a husband to you?”

he presses himself against your ass, hard and throbbing. he's been hard since he first stood behind you and inhaled your scent. his cock has a goddamn pulse - he can feel the head beating like a drum - fluid bubbling at his slit -

your breath rattles in your chest in a wheeze as you freeze under his touch, you're stiff under his palm and he feels a spark of anger at that - he fucking knows his way around a woman's body - knows how to make someone melt and cry and beg for it -

he shoves you face down on the bed with a hand at your back, comes down over you to straddle your ass on his knees, hands coming down to his belt.

“you want me to be a husband -” he yanks his belt through the loops I'm his jeans harshly, rips his zipper down and reaches in to grip himself where he's hard and hot and thick. “- want me to do my due dillengence and fuck you with my hard cock? fill you with the cum that'll give us an heir and make your life worth living? I can do that for you - pussy's pussy.”

he yanks your nightgown over your ass - grips your bare cheeks and spreads the flesh - bites his tongue till it bleeds at the sight of your small twitching asshole - and under it the wet lips of your cunt.

to combat the way the sight makes him feel, the sudden breathlessness in his chest - he tells you, “my dicks still lubed from fucking her earlier - should slide right in -” and he slots the fat leaking tip of himself at your folds, is just beginning to part that heavenly slick flesh when you curl your hands into the sheets and whisper -

“stop.”

and patrick is alot of things. alot of bad things, he can admit.

but he's not a rapist.

he pauses - hand wrapped around his hard dick - “what -” but you're shoving up suddenly, bucking under him, scrambling and wiggling until you're out from under him and yanking your gown back down over your ass, covering yourself.

he blinks at you, suprised. dick still in his hand.

“I thought you wanted -”

you squeeze your eyes shut and shuffle off the bed, wrap your arms around your body like you want to curl in on yourself.

“not like that.” you tell him. voice a fragile thing. you won't look at him. he softens in his hand, desire sapped from his body at the sight of your distress. “not - not when.” you shake your head. “things are fine how they are. I'm sorry for snapping at you, it was unbecoming. I'll sleep in the guest room tonight.”

and you're gone before he can even tuck himself back into his jeans and think of something to say.

he falls back against the bed and stares at the canopy above him. his throat feels dry. he thinks he should feel victorious. he'd intimidated you. humiliated you. made you feel as small as he feels all the fucking time.

but he doesn't feel satisfied.

he just feels like a dick and a shit husband. he scrubs a hand down his face.

fuck.

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Batfam

Part Four

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven

Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.

A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)

Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.

Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)

Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.

Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.

But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.

Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.

Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.

Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)

Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.

But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)

But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.

That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)

At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.

Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.

(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)

Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)

Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)

Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)

Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)

Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)

It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)

Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)

Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)

Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.

It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)

Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)

The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.

Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.

Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.

Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.

Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)

Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.

Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.

Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.

Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)

[verysium]

BLUE LOCK REVERSE ICKS 😳

😭 i read this as blue lock icks and was about to drag them all through the dirt with a brutally honest character review. but anyways, reverse icks is still a good idea, so here you go anon:

rin has abandonment issues. now before u come for me, let me explain. ever since sae left him, he's been hesitant to let anyone back into his heart, and that's why you mean so much to him. his hand automatically reaches for yours in the crowd so you don't get separated. when he has nightmares and dreams of you leaving, he wakes up, patting frantically on your side of the bed until he finds your body and relaxes. hugs you as if he'll never let go and buries his face into the crook of your neck and just whispers "thank fucking god." and you can see his chin wobbling as he struggles so hard not to cry, but deep down you know he's a very sensitive soul and you're quite literally his whole world.

sae's entire character is a reverse ick. have you not seen that man? he is beautiful. but i'll give u a little scenario: sae attends a charity gala, and you're invited as his plus one. you're busy getting ready in the bathroom, and he just leans against the doorframe, breath hitching when he sees you all dolled up in your fancy dress. coughs to hide his blush when you turn around and ask him for help. creeps behind you silently, his hot breath grazing your nape as his deft fingers reach for your zipper. his hands are callused and gentle when they clasp the back of your necklace (the one he bought for you), and the cold metal contrasts with the warmth of his hands on your shoulders. his heart is beating so fast that his fingers tremble and struggle with his tie, so you fix it for him but when your gaze travels back up his face, you catch him staring down at you, his eyes filled with an intense emotion. your gesture of kindness reminds him of his mother and how he hasn't gone back home in ages and how blessed he is by the gods to have you in his life.

kaiser does the hair tuck thing where he kisses a strand of your hair and smooths it behind your ear. he tries so hard to be a suave and charming gentleman, but honestly he's just an awkward loser. screams like a girl when you watch horror movies together and hugs you so tightly you think your lungs might burst. but then he gradually quiets down and falls asleep in your arms, and you think maybe he's not so bad. he canonically is not a morning person, so when he wakes up, he has the homeless cut 2.0 with the wild bed head and groggy facial expression. also has a weird habit of walking around the house naked. in any other situation, you would've yelled at him to put some clothes on, but his physique was looking extra good today, and you sort of got distracted. he definitely noticed and not-so-subtly flexed his biceps. always tries to make you laugh even though his pick-up lines are terrible and he can't tell a good joke to save his life.

nagi sometimes wakes up before you and pulls your body closer to him. on most occasions though, it's you who wakes up before him and he drags you back to bed. he hates it when you work late and hovers above you like a phantom, waiting for you to finally finish and go cuddle with him. if it gets to the point where you fall asleep while working, he will tuck you into bed and kiss you goodnight. the next morning, you find all your work finished, albeit in poor handwriting. in all honesty, nagi is a genius, and he tries hard for you and only you. if any other person asked them to finish their work, he would've flat-out rejected them.

isagi is good with children but often at his own expense. unsuccessfully tries to make a baby laugh but ends up getting distracted and slamming face first into a telephone pole. now that made the baby start giggling, and he just smiled through tears with a red bump on his forehead, insisting that he was alright and didn't just knock his two front teeth loose. whenever he babysits your siblings/cousins, he ends up doing all the grueling work like changing diapers, taking out the trash, cleaning up after the gremlins. and yet the children will still favor you and not him. tries to act like he's not heartbroken but boy did that sting a little too much.

barou buys you flowers. has a big stupid blush on his big stupid face and refuses to admit that his heart skips a beat every time you look at him. does that thing where he looks the opposite way to pretend like he's not interested before shoving a bouquet into your hands. he's also very protective. holds your hand when you cross the sidewalk so you don't get run over. holds the door open for you every time. tried to make those origami hearts for you, but his fingers are thick and stubborn, and he stayed up all night in a fit of rage because he's not used to delicate work like this. you ended up getting a lopsided piece of crumpled paper that barou insisted was a heart, and you agreed because why would you hurt his feelings?

chigiri knows how to braid your hair. makes you sit in front of the mirror while his slender fingers carefully brush the soft strands. he can get complex too. dutch braids. french braids. fishtail braids. also does that cheesy couple tradition where he braids a piece of his own hair with yours as a symbol of love. most people don't know this, but he's actually a crackhead. sometimes when you're walking down the street, he'll do impersonations of the various people he sees. the old lady at the laundromat. the two aunties at the flower shop. the fisherman near the boardwalk. he even imitated your dad once, and you nearly lost it. he's too funny guys, but you need a sophisticated sense of humor to understand him.

and that's about it. sorry this was so short anon, but my brain is dessiccated this week.

[nouvellevqgue]

✦ FOOLPROOF, L. NORRIS

but how is it a slip up that supposed to be easy can be hard than it should be just because of a simple mistake.

.✦.

yourusername

liked by quadrant and 47,924 others

yourusername a cheap yachting experience in central london is literally what i need. 8.5/10 🛥️

view all 236 comments

username lando can't run after this

username Right? Like it's so obvious that he took this. Next time I believe we'll got a bts from him in the park.

username QUADRANT LIKED 😭😭😭

username His ass can't even erase the track

username Well one thing's straight that is he's back here in London and not staying in Monaco

username THAT'S A BOAAAAATTT

username Idk but it's kinda hard to believe that he's been here the whole time and not in Monaco.

username at least she's pretty tho

username tbh just admit that we're here js bc of his post on his 2nd jpg acc before he locked it up

MEANWHILE IN LANDO'S SECOND JPG ACCOUNT...

landojpg.2

liked by maxfewtrell and 3,258 others

landojpg.2 first day in paris

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maxfewtrell I saw someone that is obviously not you there

landojpg.2 stop pointing out a thing that is so obvious

username HE CONFIRMED IT HIMSELF????????????

username WHAT IN THE FUCKIN FUCK

username I expect a softer launch than this, lan

username Disappointed but not surprised actually because I have expected this many times with you before.

username I think I have seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending 🫤

quadrant Since when did this blew up?

maxfewtrell Better lock this up or I will

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yourusername

liked by ameliadimz and 97,596 others

yourusername going gentle

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username And I said holdup that ain't lando's usual shoes (or is she just dress him up idrk)

username Lewis Hamilton at the Gala ahh style 🤣🤣

carlossainz55 Wow welcome home cheater

username okay great but ＠oscarpiastri i need u to do this too

username Well i guess we've all been waiting here even before his slip up

username That's a shitty slip up

ameliadimz Seeing all these comments on your posts is making me laugh so hard on set😂 But oh I'm so happy for the HARDER LAUNCH since 2021! 💪

username well let's all say thank god because it's not magui

username He blocked her anyway so

username HE DO WHAT?!?!?!!!!

TWITTER

note: sorry for the mia, finals has been killing me recently. but glad to be back writing!

taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @nanettea5 @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee

[eddywoww]

I know literally all soulmate mark fics have been done (tw: scarification and abuse)

But I’m imagining one where Steve has a mark and it’s fucking huge on his forearm. It says “Are you okay?” And his mom absolutely hates it. She glares at it when it pops up when he’s only eight years old and she won’t stop talking about it, won’t let it go.

She wants it gone.

So she pays to have it lazered off. Steve hates the process, cries before and during and after because he’s only a little boy and it hurts so badly.

But it doesn’t work. The phrase only pops up somewhere new. On his ankle. It’s a little smaller but it’s the same phrase. He tries to hide it this time but it’s no use, his mom spots it at a clothes fitting. Being rich meant that he had little to no privacy growing up.

She takes him to a different place this time and the process is even worse and Steve wishes they’d get better at it. Soulmarks aren’t like tattoos. The process is much more painful even than that. And poor Steve doesn’t get why he can’t have it, why his mom doesn’t want him to have it.

He would figure out later that she only wanted to control everything aspect of his life. The next time it pops up, she gets more egregious. Wants it to be cut out of his skin. Steve sobs the night before, knows it’ll scar so much worse on the meat of his bicep. He hates it, hates that she won’t let him have this and he just doesn’t understand. He keeps hoping it’ll show up somewhere she won’t find it.

After many failed tries, it finally does.

Steve almost doesn’t believe it when he finds the phrase, as tiny as possible, on the sole of his foot. He hides it. He wears socks, he tries his best to make sure his mom never sees it. He spends his teenage years trying harder and harder to get away from her. Stealing and saving money, making sure she can’t keep him locked away anymore.

Steve runs away eventually. Ends up going to college and buying goodwill furniture and getting a part time job and-

But it’s rough because he’s always been sort of shut in. A pretty ornament for his mom to show off at parties and galas. He didn’t spend much time around other kids. So school makes him nervous. Anxious to a startling degree.

It happens on a normal Tuesday. He’s in the campus lunchroom, a tray in hand. It’s shaking, his drink nearly spilling as he tries to make his way through the moving mass of students. It’s too much, all his senses firing at one hundred or more.

And then it happens. He almost drops the tray as someone bumps into him, only to grab Steve by the elbows, turning big brown eyes and curly hair toward him. A boy. A very attractive, apologetic looking boy.

Steve was mesmerized before he even opened his mouth.

“Are you okay?” The boy asks in shock. “I didn’t mean to almost knock you down, man. That’s my bad.”

Steve stares at him like he’s just seen the sun for the first time.

“I like your hair,” He says, because he can’t think of anything else to say and he really does.

Eddie Munson nearly drops him a second time. Just behind his ear, he too wears a phrase. Unscarred and unmarked. He has no problem showing it to Steve right there in their busy campus lunchroom.

“I like your hair.”

Eddie might be without Steve’s scars but he has some of his own. A life well lived, not very far from Steve. They don’t lament over lost time. After all, it was meant to be.

[jaysgirlx]

I think I NEED a some head canons about about Jason Todd meeting his lovely girlfriend at one of Bruces annoying get together at the opera where an ballet piece plays as entertainment, just with the slight specialty that she’s the ballerina

Btw love your work <3

Jason Todd Gala Meet Cute Headcanons

— To be frank, Jason Todd hates galas but when Dick doesn't want to go alone or when he wants to support Bruce or Cass he'll be there. Family is Family.

— When he first sees you his jaw nearly drops because he's never seen anybody as stunning as you. As graceful as a swan, you glide across the stage with ethereal elegance. Each movement is a dance of precision and passion, your body a canvas painting a story of love and longing. Jason Tood was now indeed a lovesick boy.

— You've got the poor boy hooked, watching you like you're his last meal. Even Dick could see, that you caught Jason's eye. At the end of your performance, you took a bow and you looked right over at him and smiled.

— He wasn't sure if that had really been meant for him but that didn't stop him from blushing a bit. So he's nearly on the floor begging Bruce for your name or to at least introduce him and he agrees just so Jason would calm down.

— Bruce invites you to join the rest of the gala if you're interested, since his son was very fond of your performance, "Oh is he the one with the little white strip in his hair? he's quite cute isn't he?".

—Dick's grinning ear to ear, watching his brother stare at you from across the room, while guides you to one of the private bathrooms. He'd never seen Jason so whipped for a girl who he didn't even know.

— Once you finally finished changing, you found yourself drinking a glass of red wine, standing in the corner alone. You usually don't come to events like these but since you were personally invited by Bruce Wayne you saw no reason not to.

— When Jason spots you from across the room, he debates on waiting for Bruce to introduce the two of you but just says fuck it and goes for it.

— "I didn't know ballerinas, came to galas like these, there's not much fun doll," he asks putting his hand out for yours. You hesitate but place yours on top of his, allowing him to kiss the back of your hand. "Only when pretty boys like you request for us," you say giggling, and now for sure you're fucked. Jason Todd wasn't just cute, he was hot.

— He butters you up by asking your favorite composer, "Well I've never performed any of his music but I'm quite the fan of Vivaldi" you say while he leans against the wall next to you. He asks the questions and lets you do most of the talking since he'd prefer to listen to you. By the end of the night, there was nothing Jason didn't know about you but it seemed like you hadn't gotten to know him.

— He had spent the whole night flirting with you and buttering you up and you're not even surprised when he asks to walk you out, "Why not but only on one condition, you have to take me out on a date and let me get to know you this time" and Jason had no objections to that.

— Now you've got the Jason Todd following behind you, people are whispering and watching the two of you. How'd you manage to pull one of Bruce Wayne's sons, especially the standoffish one? You weren't even his girlfriend yet and people couldn't stop talking about you and exactly what Jason wanted, well at least before he made you his.

[battleshipwrites]

𝕝𝕚𝕡𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤 // ᴅɪᴄᴋ ɢʀᴀʏsᴏɴ

tags: 18+ MDNI, minors do not interact, no explicit sub/dom, fem!reader, needy!dick, overstimulation mention, hair-pulling kink if you squint, lemme know if more tags needed | 700 words

He was under you on the couch, his hands wandering your waist as the two of you kissed. You were supposed to be leaving the house for a gala right about now, but then you’d put on a navy blue dress that’d fit a little too well, and now you were here.

Technically, this wasn’t the worst way to end up, but the two of you had sworn you wouldn’t be late again, and this time around you had on lipstick that was now smudged all over his lips and neck. You'd end up missing the event as a whole if you let this continue.

“Dick, we gotta go,” you say, pulling away from him properly and sitting up so you're straddling him more than anything. His hands were left on your hips, and he was a sight. His tie was loose– near undone– and his neck and jawline was covered in lipstick prints from earlier. Not to mention his lips currently had more lipstick on them than yours.

He was looking up at you, still mildly dazed as you waited for his reply, not quite standing up yet but knowing you should. He frowned as the words seemed to process.

“Just 20 more minutes, then we’ll go.” He sits up, coming to meet your lips again as he speaks, one hand moving to cup your jaw when you allow him to. You indulge him (and yourself) for a moment more before properly standing up, and grabbing his arm. He pouts once more and you hood back a laugh, instead a fond smile appears on your face.

“C’mon, we’ll freshen up but we gotta go,” you sigh, him finally getting up and following you to the bathroom. Shutting the door it was relatively easy to fix up your makeup, and then his lips and neck, and it would’ve been all sorted if as you were cleaning him up his hands didn’t start wandering under your dress. 

You were sitting on the counter, so there wasn’t much to do except give him a short look before continuing. It didn’t do much (shocker). Your hand paused for a moment on his neck when his hands slid up higher on your thighs, toying with the lace of your panties with a grin as he watched you take a breath before continuing.

“You alright?” He asks, near mockingly as you glare at him, although it’s cut short when his hand starts to tug your panties down. You actually stop him this time.

“Dick,” you mutter, and he pauses, keeping eye contact as you stare each other down. He wins when one of his hands slips your panties further down your legs and your hand on his neck grips tighter.

Before you know it he’s kneeling, your dress pooled around your waist and legs hooked over his shoulders as he eats you out like a man starved. Your head was thrown back, one hand in his hair as the other grips onto the counter like you’ll die if you let go. He was very obviously grinning, something you didn’t need to be looking at him to tell as his tongue laved through your folds before diving back into your cunt with his tongue and two of his fingers that’d been slowly but surely destroying you for- fuck you don’t even know how long.

You were sure the both of you were going to be getting a talk tomorrow by someone from his family, or your boss, but right now it didn’t seem of high importance as you felt a knot in your stomach tighten, eyes rolling back as his free hand digs into the meat of your thigh. 

A moan left your throat as you clutched at his hair when you came, his face still buried between your legs as if he belonged there (he sure felt like he did) as he helped you through your orgasm. The issue arose when he didn’t pull away after, instead speeding up steadily once more despite you tugging at his hair. 

He wasn’t listening, your moans gaining volume as time went on, tugs on his head being a mix between ‘get away’ and ‘don’t stop’ that made him groan into you, only spurring you on more.

It was going to be a long night.

[felixitate]

can't resist | lyb (m.)

pairing ⇢ felix x reader

summary ⇢ felix really only entered the bathroom to retrieve his camera but you're even more tempting than he anticipated.

rating & word count ⇢ 2.3k | 18+ (minors gtfo)

genre/au ⇢ smut, fluff, idk what they are 🤭

warnings/content ⇢ teasing, cursing, petnames, groping, hair pulling, breast play, unprotected sex, creampie, mirror shenanigans, the camera and the rings are involved ig

theme song ⇢ the boy is mine - ariana grande

a/n: yeah the title speaks for itself on what i’m still going through rn lmao you see his hold on me? it's fucking insane like how dare he fr i have not recovered from those ig stories fawk and i don't think i'll ever be

“take photos with me?”

you ask Felix fondly when he is about to open the door. it made him pause a bit, weighing how much time he had since you could take a while with this.

he’s not really in a hurry since the others are still getting their makeup done. good thing that he luckily went first so he’s got time to look for his special camera that he possibly misplaced earlier.

the other boys said no when Felix asked if they'd seen it but he's sure he left it somewhere so that only leaves you. he knew that you’d stay in the spare room to get ready and avoid suspicion from other gala goers so he wasn’t that surprised where he found it.

he entered the bathroom where he found you standing in front of the vanity while taking selfies from your phone. then you’re scrolling to look through the selcas you took so he kinda expected that you’d use his camera already but you haven't.

that's one of the reasons why you take the longest in the bathroom anyway, having the habit of taking pictures when the lighting's to your liking.

so why haven't you?

maybe you want him to take pictures of you instead which he'd happily do. smiling brightly at you, Felix nods as he closes the door. he really can't say no to you and he never has unless he had to. how could he even right now when your eyes sparkle at him like that?

there would be a final fitting later but he couldn’t resist your request.

.

a smile graces your lips when you see Felix approaching your form, standing behind you so you start taking pics of you both. your ivory-coloured bathrobe contrasts his so it’s a perfect combination. well, couple trends are usually matching but you like it this way. he matches your poses the way you instructed.

you feel Felix's right hand on your hip, holding you like he's done many times before. his other hand's still holding the camera that you've been focusing your attention on. you wanted to use it earlier but it would be better with Felix so you decided not to.

bringing your attention back to him, it's then you notice through the mirror how his eyes have been lingering around your sternum.

"lix?"

"hmm?" he answers, his gold-ringed hand absentmindedly squeezing your hip. you smile at how cute he is.

"look at the camera baby" a small chuckle leaves you when get flustered at being caught ogling you.

right the camera. what the hell is he thinking? you took a picture from your phone and Felix leaned in for a final pose. he thought that was it but you suddenly took his camera from his hand, placing it on the glass table beside the sink.

“we haven’t taken photos on your camera yet” you drawl, eyes looking so fascinated while looking at the camera.

“oh yeah, do you want it now?”

his hand reaches for the camera but you stop him, taking his hand instead in yours so he ends up putting his arm around you while you snap another picture.

you lean back and nuzzle Felix, allowing you to feel more of his body against yours. he freezes momentarily and the small gasp that escaped from him didn't miss your ears so you leaned back further, your ass brushing against something hard.

oh.

your plan’s been doing well it seems.

"y/n, fuck, don’t do this to me please"

he knows what you're on now, his breath increasing the more you grind back on him like you didn't hear what he just said.

"hmm?" you faux your concern, making it look like you're just trying to find a good position while still clutching your phone but of course, Felix knows better.

"not right now baby" he pleads again as his body betrays him. it didn't help that your bathrobe seems to be loosening more now too, allowing him to look at your perky nipples that are peeking from it.

you place your phone by the mirror while Felix's distracted by the sight of your boobs. you pondered if you wanna record or not but relented, sparing him with your cheeky antics this time.

pulling down his veiny hand that you're still holding, you cup your left breast with it and he squeezes out of instinct, causing you to moan shamelessly in return.

his other hand travels from your hip upwards after, pulling the robe sideways, revealing your other breast to his hungry eyes. you watch him lean in to kiss your neck from the mirror's reflection then remember that he’s got makeup on.

“lix your makeup..”

his lips were almost touching the skin when your reminder stopped him. he curses internally out of frustration because you're right. there might not be enough time later to redo his makeup so he really gotta be mindful of it.

you felt Felix straighten up, shaking his head a bit to focus. you were about to tease him but both his ringed hands are now on your bare tits, kneading and squeezing knowing how much you like the sensation of those cold rings against your warm skin.

"wish i could fuck you baby" he whispers needily, voice going deeper than it already is as he grinds his dick more against your covered ass.

"what's stopping you?" you whine, clearly so stimulated with all the stimulation from his touches and the sound of his voice.

well, nothing really is so Felix obliges and turns you around to face him. his beauty knocks your breath once again, his blonde hair in a new braid complimenting a lot with the structure of his ethereal face.

"you're so pretty you know.."

a shy smile breaks out on Felix's face at your remark, more so when your hand reaches out to tuck a few strands of his hair by his ear. you scan his face until you catch his eyes, immediately seeing the lust swimming in them with his pupils already dilating.

you prop your body by the sink and shrug off your bathrobe, causing Felix's eyes to widen as he scans your naked body.

“you’re much prettier love”

he wants to kiss you so bad, shower every part of your body with his lips but he can't. he's thinking if he should just face any scolding later since you can probably help him in the department.

you smile warmly at Felix, heart fluttering at his words but you've noticed how much he’s been holding back so you begin caressing his bare chest to return his attention to you.

teasing him crosses your mind cause you love seeing him flustered, looking so cute with the pink dusting over those lovely freckles that you cherish.

"should i mark you here lixie?" you start and the look on his face changes, a slight panic emerging in his eyes at your suggestion.

the gala’s an important event for him and his friends and even if you happen to leave a mark somewhere where it’s covered under his fit later, he can’t risk other people seeing it by accident and possibly getting the both of you in trouble.

“kidding baby” you left a tender kiss on his soft skin to ease him, reeling at his deep sigh of relief from it.

you can’t possibly do that to Felix no matter how much you want to. besides, you’d have more time after anyway so you’ll just make sure to make him feel better right now to make up for all the teasing that you've put him through.

your hands continue to roam around his toned chest, fingers brushing his nipples but you instead play with the pendant of his necklace. he hums deeply, pushing his body closer to yours so you won’t forget how hard he’s been.

poor baby.

he sighs in relief once you finally untie his navy blue bathrobe, the rest of his body naked body now exposed to your eyes. you know he's been dying to fuck you so your hands continue their journey from his chest down to his abs until they reach his swollen dick.

it’s leaking so much already and you want him in your mouth but you don’t have much time.

“help me love? it’s your fault anyways” he chuckles deeply but the laughter leaves him once you grabbed his thick cock, pumping it at once to spread his precum around.

“of course baby, i’d love to” you pepper Felix’s bare chest with light kisses, basking on his deep moans that are increasing in volume the faster you stroke his cock.

his hands hurriedly untie your bathrobe, parting your legs so he can finally fuck you. he's so close already and hasn't pleasured you much yet, something that he hates each time you have sex because of his lack of self-control.

after Felix tests your pussy with his thick finger, he positions his cock at your entrance and pushes in right away.

soft moans emit from you both once he fills you to the brim. you love the stretch of being full from Felix but you also know how it affects him a lot, his eyes shutting at how wet and warm you feel around him.

he didn't mean to roll his hips before making sure that you've adjusted to his cock but he just couldn't stop. you didn't try either, closing your legs around his waist instead, your hand holding onto his arms for balance.

"b-baby, i won't last long" he breathes out, struggling to contain himself as he continues to fuck you. he opens his eyes and now they’re fixed on your face, looking so tranced as he leans in again.

but before he gave in to kissing you, your hand was quick to pull his long hair.

"no baby.." you gasp out as you do which Felix responds to with a deep whine. he's already so immersed in fucking you, ringed hands gripping your waist so hard that you're not gonna be surprised if you find any bruises there later.

he groans in protest and you tut, though a sharp thrust coaxes a choked moan from you when Felix finds that soft spot and focuses his aim there. 

“don’t wanna..ruin..your makeup..” it's light really, too subtle that you doubt anyone would even notice if it’s smudged but you don't want the both of you to get scolded later.

you're still in your right mind to stay grounded but your brain's getting cloudier when Felix continues to hit it once your back starts arching.

"fuck i hate this" he groans in frustration that he can't even kiss you. at least he'd been doing a great job so far, you look so pretty moaning his name with your hands clawing at his arms because the pleasure's becoming too much.

but Felix knows that you're also determined to not keep him here any longer.

“later hmm? want you to cum right now okay?” he shakes his head so cutely, doe eyes staring at you that your resolve almost broke.

“you first” he whines and fastens his pace, focusing on getting himself together to make sure you cum before him. you're a lot better than him when it comes to self-control but he's trying, he's been trying so hard even with your constant clenching around his cock.

his hand leaves your back to rub your clit and it took a few circles before you unravel before him. he follows your suit not long after, filling you with so much cum. your legs pull his body closer and you hug him as you both ride out your high.

smiling against Felix's bare chest, your hands are nonstop caressing his body and he honestly finds it cute. he’s smiling down at you as he runs his hand through your back to calm you down.

after a few seconds, he grabs the wet wipes from the glass table to wipe his hand before taking his special camera to take a picture of you both. your naked body against his looks amazing from this angle, even more so when you turned back to the mirror with a sly grin while laying your head against his chest.

you're both still breathless when someone's suddenly banging against the door, breaking the silence between your and Felix's exchanged breaths.

he pulls out of you quickly, causing you to whine at the lost feeling. but you didn’t get to process much when he quickly handed you a few wet wipes so you could clean up and face whoever was behind the door.

"open the door you two" the voice belonging to Chan echoes and it's strangely calm so you and Felix exchange a panicked look before hastily putting your bathrobes back on.

the door opens and a very stressed-looking Chan is looking at you both in defeat. he’s dressed already so you even feel worse for keeping Felix too long.

“come on, let's redo his makeup”

he breaks the silence when no one's saying a word. he does kinda sound stressed but you've done your best to not smudge anything on Felix's face so everything should be fine.

"no need oppa, look at him, still so flawless” you confidently smile at him and Felix just shies away both from your lovely compliment and embarrassment at Chan scrutinizing him.

the latter looks skeptical until he surveys Felix’s face before sighing in relief to find that his little brother's face looks untouched, with Felix just looking like he’s sweating normally so he didn't have to explain anything to the makeup artist.

your fingers are tracing Felix's embroidered name on his bathrobe when Chan shifts his eyes on you. he gives you a pointed look and now Felix is the one smiling in mischief.

"we’ll see you later princess"

e/n: this turned softer than i intended oml i just love him sm. i might also do another fic based on this met look of his, something of him being a fairie prince + the theme of the gala since the whole thing pissed me off sm lmao