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Simon 'Ghost' Riley Headcanons While You're Dating
I figured this would be kinda cute since I've only written for König. Switching it up just a little bit since I think the 141 boys are cuties <3
I know this is quite long too, I'm sorry I had a lot of thoughts I wanted to get out!!!!!
There will be both SFW and NSFW with a GN reader (they/them pronouns) ^^ Enjoy!
GENRE: Fluff, smut after NSFW cut
WARNINGS: Mentions of Ghost's childhood
Masterlist here!
***************
You'd needed to be the one to tell him how you'd felt first. Simon wasn't one to open up about his emotions and mostly tried to ignore and bottle up his feelings, so he never would've been able to gain that courage to tell you first.
When you did tell him, he became super flustered behind that mask of his. You normally called him by his alias and never really used his actual name, so he knew what you were going to say would've been serious.
"Hey, Simon? I think I like you. And I understand if you don't feel the same way, I just figured I should tell you sooner than later."
...
"Simon..?"
He would let out a flustered grumble of "Yeah yeah,, I like you too." and you two would slowly, but surely, warm up to each other more.
He'd be a very gentle lover. Just the thought of him hurting you, even by accident, made him violently ill.
Ghost wouldn't be one to be touchy very early on in you guys' relationship, he kept a lot to himself and you respected that. At times you would hold back from trying to hug him, or hold his hand, or anything, but you didn't mind. You wanted to make sure he was comfortable.
He'd soon realised you were the cuddly, touchy type, so he'd begin making moves like wrapping his arm around your waist or linking his pinkie with yours while you were walking. Just those small touches alone would make your knees weak.
Simon faced a lot of trauma in his childhood so he had trouble opening up to you at first. Once he did start opening up to you, he realised he didn't need to ignore his feelings for once. You made him feel safe.
>:'(( he loves you so much.
He'd call you all the usual pet names such as 'my love', 'darling', 'sweetheart', etc.
You'd often be the only thing on his mind when he'd be on missions or back in the barracks.
He'd always keep a printed photograph of you in a pocket somewhere so he could remember who he was fighting for.
When he'd be upset, he'd always pull that photo out just to look at it. Just seeing your face brought him immense comfort.
His love language would definitely be acts of service. He'll gladly cook a nice meal for you, or tell you to sit down and relax so he could take care of the cleaning.
However, it goes both ways. You'll pack him a lunch for the day He'd be on his knees. Make his bed for him if he were to be too busy? He'll completely melt. It's those little things.
His father didn't care all that much for him as a child coming from an abusive household, essentially needing to take care of himself. Having that someone to pack him a lunch and look after him in such a way made him feel loved and safe.
Of course he'd never take his mask off in front of you. He never took it off for anyone, there were no hard feelings. He preferred his anonymity and you are completely okay with it.
You never asked to see him without the mask because
well,
you just didn't. That was his privacy and you weren't one to invade it unless he would offer or if he were to be ready.
You two were both very patient with each other and that helped build a healthy and trustful relationship.
You also didn't mind not knowing what he really looked like. You first fell in love with who he was as a person, not his physical attributes.
When he did show you what he looked like unmasked, it was ironically during a make-out session.
(He low-key planned it out)
"Bloody hell, this thing is getting in the way." He'd say as the balaclava kept slipping down and shielding his lips from yours.
Thats when he finally pulled the felt which covered his features off, taking you by surprise.
The face-paint was still there, but his beautiful features were completely exposed to you.
He definitely got flustered at just how much you were examining his face.
"You look like you've seen a Ghost, darling."
That snapped you out of it, earning a chuckle from you before you two were sucking each others faces off again without that irritation from the fabric.
While nothing was said in the moment, by the time you two were done, you'd already begun to gush about how handsome he looked. You'd cup his face in your hands like he would to you and place kisses on his nose, forehead, cheeks, everywhere. He'd just look away in embarrassment.
"Yeah, yeah, take a picture, it'll last longer... PLEASE DON'T-"
The hard, confident Simon you knew became a blushy idiot and you loved it.
He was your Simon
__________________
NSFW
Before you two had any 'alone time' together, he'd always make sure there's a large water bottle or an electrolyte drink on the bedside table because, man, his guy has a lot of stamina and a high sex drive.
He could easily shoot a some loads into you over the course of a couple of hours.
You couldn't count how many times he'd make you cum over those few hours as you'd be a babbling mess by the end of it. No thoughts, just getting dicked down.
He wasn't exactly rough, but definitely not gentle. He'll be pounding into you like it was your last nights together for a while. And yeah, sometimes it was, so you two would need to make the most of it.
He wasn't one to inflict physical pain to you either unless it was the occasional slap on the ass or thighs.
He was one to grab onto you though. He'll grab onto any piece of your body he can.
Doggy? Bent over a table? Riding? He'll be digging his fingers into your fleshy hips.
Steamy make-out session? Or just feeling possessive? He'll gladly grab onto your thighs or wrap his arms around your waist.
The boy loves holding onto you, especially when he's in heat, leaving maybe just a few red marks from him gripping onto you so tightly. Maybe even a few scratch marks.
Missionary would definitely be his favourite position.
He'd be able to stare into that pretty face of yours for eternity if his life depended on it.
Missionary also lets him hold your hand as he pounds you into the mattress. The feeling of you squeezing his hand as tightly as you can while you cum makes him go absolutely feral.
Simon wouldn't make all that much noise in bed. Though when he's feeling desperate, he can't shut himself up. He'll let out soft moans and groans and growls into your ear just to let you know how good you're making him feel.
He also would love seeing your mouth full of his cock. The faces you'd make up at him as it slides down you throat could make him cum instantly.
Moan his name and he will also cum instantly.
"Oh, fuck- Simon~!"
He'll start pounding into you like never before, chasing both of your orgasms.
He’ll always make sure that you’re left satisfied. No point in pounding into you if you’re not going to be enjoying it the entire time.
He'd probably cum a lot too. Thick strands would shoot inside you or into your mouth, struggling to stay inside. He'd probably have a thing for pushing his fingers inside your hole to make sure his cum stays inside you.
He's a top and a soft dom so he'd have a bit of trouble getting used to bottoming and/or subbing. He wouldn't turn it away, not for you. But it would need some getting used to for him.
If he's subbing, you could very easily get him to start begging once he gets lost in the pleasure. Though he'd definitely feel embarrassed after. He's a grown, dominant, military man who engages in the most brutal and gore-y activities. He wouldn't have ever believed himself a couple of years back if the future Simon had told him he'll be begging his partner to let him cum as they jerked him off in the slowest, most torturous way.
If you two hadn't seen each other in a while, he'd be pushing you against the wall in an instant with your thighs on either side of him. He'd be practically begging you again to let him fuck you, and you'd of course let him.
Breeding kink? For sure. He LOVES to cum inside you and fill you up.
"F-Fucking hell, look at you, doll, completely stuffed." He'll say as he cums into you for the third or fourth time that night. Your entire body would for sure be shaking at that point.
Of course he’d be affected by the overstimulation as some point as well, he’d begin stuttering every now and again each time his cock would throb inside you.
He'd slam into you with such force, you'll be sobbing tears of pleasure by the time you two were done.
You'll often become extremely tired from sex from the sheer amount of stamina this man has, it can't be said enough.
This man will gladly take you to your limit, but the moment you show signs of passing out or feeling unwell, he'll stop and make sure you're okay, giving you some water and something to boost your blood sugar so you’re not passing out on him. He's not one to take such advantage of you while you're unconscious, and you respect him a lot for that.
Post-sex includes so much cuddling. He'll apologise for accidentally hurting you or if he was too rough and make sure you're all cleaned up and had water before you two head to bed or for a nap.
Post-morning-sex would include him bringing breakfast to you in bed which you thought was the most adorable thing ever.
Your legs would be jelly by the time you two were done, so just trying to make it to the bathroom would be a whole challenge.
Simon would always either carry you or provide you will that stability, it was sweet. He'd hold onto your waist as tightly as he could to make sure you wouldn't fall while your knees would give in.
He was very buff so it would be pretty easy to keep you from falling to the ground.
He'll make sure you're all squeaky clean, hydrated, and fed before anything else.
He truely was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
***************
I loved writing this so much, I'm about to go scream into my pillow. Goodnight, everyone <3
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begging for rain. (three)
# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo
PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader
SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air
WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,
WORD COUNT: 4.6k
A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!
TWO YEARS AGO
It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.
Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more.
"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.
"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."
You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.
You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.
"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.
"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."
Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."
You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."
"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."
You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."
"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"
You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie. "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."
Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."
You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."
She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."
The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.
"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.
"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.
As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.
You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.
Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.
ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?
You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.
y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day?
Almost instantly, she replied.
ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉
The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.
Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.
"Come in," you called.
The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"
You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."
"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."
"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again.
"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."
As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.
ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊
There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.
You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.
Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.
And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.
y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :)
PRESENT DAY
When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.
"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.
"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.
"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream.
You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."
"I'm not completely useless."
You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"
Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."
You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."
"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"
"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."
Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.
"I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"
You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.
"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.
Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"
You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.
But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.
"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."
Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."
As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.
But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost.
TWO YEARS AGO
You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.
"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.
"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."
"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach.
"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.
"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.
As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.
"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.
"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.
The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.
The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.
"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.
"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.
As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.
"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.
"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"
The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.
"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.
"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.
Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.
As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.
he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."
You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.
Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."
Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.
As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something
"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."
She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.
As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.
"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"
You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.
"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.
"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"
"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.
"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.
"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.
"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.
As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.
"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.
"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.
The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged.
"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.
"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."
Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."
Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.
Ellie: hey. can we talk later?
You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way. You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.
"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.
"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."
"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."
"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."
As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.
"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"
You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."
Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."
"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.
Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."
"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."
"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.
"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."
You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."
"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."
Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.
Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.
This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."
Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.
"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."
You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.
Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back.
You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.
Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.
"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.
"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."
"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"
"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."
A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"
Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."
"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."
She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."
Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.
"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.
"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."
"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?
Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"
"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"
She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."
Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.
She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.
You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."
She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"
As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.
And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.
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— LE SSERAFIM HEADCANONS🫧 | 001.
GENRE fluff, headcanons
SYNOPSIS habits of the le sserafim members when they have a crush on you <3
WARNINGS no specific gender, no smut or suggestive content of any kind, lowercase intended.
WC 791
masterlist | main page <3
. . . SAKURA (사쿠라)
i. gravitates towards you. in a room full of hundreds of people, sakura will easily spot you within seconds. as soon as you walk into a party, sakura will be by your side in seconds. she says it's fate with how easily she's drawn to you, you roll your eyes every time thinking she's just being playful not knowing that she means every flirty compliment and heartfelt confession. ii. gives you gifts. she puts her crocheting skills to use any time she has free time. she's made hats for her friends but she goes all out for you. learning new patterns and getting different yarns to build you anything you desire. she'll make little stuffed animals for you and in secret keep a matching one, she'll craft cute tops that compliment your frame, and even make you small trinkets you can put as decoration in your room!
. . . CHAEWON (김채원)
i. gets easily jealous. she hates the feeling she gets when someone is hogging all of your attention, making you laugh so hard that you're clutching your stomach in pain, your smile so wide that it almost reaches your ears, and your eyes staring so fondly at another. all of that should be towards her, and chaewon can't stand the fact that another person can get that reaction out of you. she'll play off her jealousy usually by saying something like "y/n, you still love me right?" with a pout. after your bits of reassurance she becomes less jealous and more so clingy, it's a repeating cycle. ii. can't keep her eyes off of you. she finds her eyes traveling back to your figure more often than normal. she keeps a watchful eye out for you, ready to drag you away from any uncomfortable situation you might've gotten thrown into. she can't help the adoring smile that comes across her face when she sees you do something even remotely endearing to her, your smile and simple mannerism all reminders of why she likes you so much.
. . . YUNJIN (허윤진)
i. sends pictures/videos of things that remind her of you. throughout your day you'll randomly get photos or small clips of things that remind yunjin of you. sometimes it'll be a quick video of a red panda eating bamboo, or a picture of a hairless cat in a turtleneck. it really depends on what mood she's in! ii. calls you nicknames. her nicknames can range from simple pet names like 'babe', 'baby', and 'sweetie' but as time goes on and you get more comfortable with each other she'll start calling you annoyingly sweet names like 'muffin', 'gumdrop', and 'kitty'. she loves how you physically recoil in disgust as soon as those words leave her lips. she'll laugh off your disgust but in her mind she's wishing with crossed fingers that you'll give her a chance.
. . . KAZUHA (카즈하)
i. she can't keep eye-contact with you. she's not someone that usually struggles with eye-contact but she finds it extra hard to look you in the eye, and for a long while she didn't know why. instead of staring into your alluring eyes that make the tips of her ears turn red and burn in embarrassment, she trails her eyes all over your face. looking at your eyebrows, cheekbones, lips, and nose, all to avoid the painful butterflies that swarm in her stomach when your soft gaze meets hers. ii. asks about you. to get closer to you she'll ask your closest friends/family members about you. she'll bring up your favorite musical artist, or a tv show you just started watching in a nonchalant way just to get a conversation started. nothing could mask the adoration that coats her face when your eyes light up with excitement at the mention of one of your favorite things.
. . . EUNCHAE (은채)
i. teases you the most. if eunchae finds herself with a crush on you, you'll be subjected to a lot of her teasing. it's never harsh in nature and it's a lot more flirty if anything. she'll gently push you away from her if you get too close, falsely claiming that the reason she did so was because she didn't want you next to her but in reality it was because your close proximity made her heart rate speed up with reddening ears. ii. holds your hand. she always has some intricate excuse to hold your hand. whether it be to look at any new formed callouses, or because she didn't want to lose you in a crowd! she'll make fun of you for thinking it was anything more than what she claimed it to be, although you both know there's no reason for her to hold your hand as much as she does.
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. . .
Just like Jimin rubbing his own head and being shook instantly, we will have many instances where we will be reminded of them... see a photo or a video, hear their voices or a song and instantly be shook that we won't be seeing Jimin and Jungkook much in the next 18 months.
Not gonna lie, it is rough for me to watch Jimin’s live. The level of vulnerability is just too much for me to handle. His uncertainty, his dismay, his level of discomfort and self-consciousness... humiliation(?) over the loss of his beautiful hair, I can't watch it yet. His own disbelief at looking at his own shaved head...
He is facing something unknown and unfamiliar. He's learned a lot over the past year diving into the appearances he had to do alone for his ambassadorships for Dior and Tiffany. I say "alone" but he wasn't alone, he had his manager and staff by his side.
He won't have them when he enters the military base.
I already said in a previous post that Jimin is disappointed that he must, once again, stop doing what he loves and do this instead. He’s just hitting his stride and he has a lot he wants to accomplish. All that, in addition to his habit of self-criticism and his anxiety issues, it is HUGE that he will have someone there who knows this about him and can help him redirect and calm down. He will beat himself up, put himself down and not allow himself to give himself credit for doing as well as he thinks he should. Jungkook will remind him that he's amazing and help him overcome all that noise in his head.
And keep in mind that Jungkook is a level of introvert that requires some amount of "alone time". This "alone time" is when this type of introvert “recharges” or “decompresses” in order to settle or center one’s self. We all see how different he is during group lives versus when he is alone. His introvert thrives by himself. The situation of being with strangers for such long periods is CHALLENGING! Without his fidget spinner lip rings, and again, staff and manager beside him facing something new by himself, he'll be ADHDing all over the place. Knowing that Jungkook has someone he is comfortable with, who understands this about him, is HUGE. He has a habit of tuning out, zoning out and withdrawing and Jimin can help him stay put in the moment.
Besides genuinely missing performing and his fans, it is no wonder that his frame of mind during his last live with us was downhearted.
This is not a situation where one needs the other more... it is a situation where they will both mutually benefit from having the other present.
These guys are not like us. These two have lived the past ten years in a world that is NOTHING like ours. They've grown up and matured living a life that we can't possibly know and understand. Jungkook has several $1000 bottles of whiskey chilling in his refrigerator that he mixes with Cloop soda water and drinks like its kool-aid through a straw. THEY ARE NOT LIKE US.
They've succeeded beyond all expectations, even their own, and had to deal with all the extreme ups and downs of all of that... and now they must put everything they know aside to step into a completely different world with the eyes of the world focused on them. The pressure to not fuck up has to be enormous. Everything they do is amplified. Its not fair, really.
Physically, they will have advantages over their younger fellow soldiers in that strenuous work is not unfamiliar to them, they are accustomed to pushing themselves and they know what it takes to master something that requires a lot of physicality. They are strong and athletic.
And now, emotionally and mentally, they will be fine because they will have each other.
I will miss all of them and be so very excited to count down the days to Jin's discharge... but I will be the most bereft waiting for Jimin and Jungkook.
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Emergency Contact
Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader
You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.
Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.
Summary:
After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts.
Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.
Word Count: 10,400
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.
Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.
...
Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).
sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.
mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.
A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It’s a newer song, and it’s one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone’s emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.
This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don’t have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.
This is another re-post from my old blog, and I do have a sequel for it in my drafts, which I am not actively working on. And before I post the sequel, I do plan on tweaking this and revamping it a little, but I figured I would repost this for now just to have the masterlist complete on this blog.
...
If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.
The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?
But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.
If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.
It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.
Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.
…
You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.
He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.
When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.
“Who are your friends?” He asked.
As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.
It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.
“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.
“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.
“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.
“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.
“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.
He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.
“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.
“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”
You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.
“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.
“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.
This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.
“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.
“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.
“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.
Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.
“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.
Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.
“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”
It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.
Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.
“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.
It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.
“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.
“No way.” You scoffed.
“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.
“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.
“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.
“I am.” Dick said firmly.
“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.
“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.
The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.
You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.
He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.
“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”
“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”
Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.
“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.
Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.
“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.
It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.
His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.
When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.
“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.
You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.
“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.
You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.
When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.
Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.
…
When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.
Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.
You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.
Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.
Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.
When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.
You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.
You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.
When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.
You had no clue that you’d end up living together.
When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.
You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.
You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.
…
“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”
“Shut up.”
The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.
You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.
Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.
You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.
“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.
He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.
“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”
He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.
“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”
He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.
“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”
He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.
“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”
He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.
“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”
“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.
“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.
Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.
In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.
…
You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.
It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.
The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.
Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.
You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.
…
It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.
When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.
You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.
“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.
“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”
You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.
“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.
You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.
“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”
You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.
“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”
Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.
“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”
It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.
“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”
But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.
But you would never admit that he was right.
“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.
But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.
Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.
You just glared, and he smirked once more.
When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.
“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.
“I know.” You grinned at him.
He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.
…
Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.
Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.
But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.
When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.
You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.
Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.
Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?
Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?
Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.
And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.
So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.
You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.
And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.
…
Hectic.
That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.
Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.
Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.
But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.
Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.
Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.
The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.
The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.
After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.
You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.
So you took the leap.
You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.
A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.
His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.
“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.
“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.
He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.
“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”
It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.
He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.
You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.
“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.
He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.
“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.
It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.
Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.
“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.
Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.
Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.
“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”
That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.
“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.
Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.
“You need this treated.” He added on.
No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.
“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”
“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”
The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.
“Jason-”
You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.
But of course, he cut you off.
“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.
He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.
You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.
But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.
Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.
“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.
He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.
“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.
It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.
You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.
But, no dice.
The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.
It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.
Jason sighed through his nose.
“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”
Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.
You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.
When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.
This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.
When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.
His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.
“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”
It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.
“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.
…
Dick explicitly told you to stay put.
They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.
Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.
You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.
“Jason!”
You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.
Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.
Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)
Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.
At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.
His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.
You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.
Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.
Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.
You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.
Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.
“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.
The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.
Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.
Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.
…
You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.
“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.
It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.
It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.
You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.
“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”
It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.
You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.
Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”
There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.
‘Maybe I just have to care.’
Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.
After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.
“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”
There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.
You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.
‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’
The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.
“It’s nothing.” You told him.
You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.
Jason shook his head at this statement.
He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.
When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.
After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.
“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.
You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.
Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.
Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.
There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.
Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.
“I meant what I said.” You told him.
At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.
He didn’t find any.
You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.
…
The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.
When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.
Panic flooded you.
You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.
“Don’t move!” He shouted.
“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.
Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.
Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.
He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.
When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.
“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.
There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.
His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.
“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”
You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.
He thought he was a dead weight to your life.
“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”
You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.
“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.
You ignored him.
You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.
“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”
“You have to let go.”
Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.
But of course, you refused.
“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”
As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.
Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.
He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.
So Jason did what he had to do.
He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.
“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”
You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.
You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.
You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.
…
If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.
When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.
You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.
“All done.” He said quietly.
You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.
“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.
You felt your heart sink.
In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.
You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.
It was something else.
It had to be something else.
Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.
He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.
And now he was trying to back down from that.
You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.
The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.
In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.
You were both so vulnerable.
Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.
If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.
He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.
As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.
You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.
You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.
You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.
You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.
He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.
“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.
He knew that it would break him.
He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.
Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.
You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.
“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.
“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.
Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.
You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.
“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”
You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.
“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”
Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.
“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.
Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.
He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.
He would never be perfect - but he was yours.
...
PLEASE NOTE: I do have a sequel in mind for this, but I don't know when I am going to have it finished and posted. Please do not ask me to write more of this or ask me when the sequel will be coming. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work here that I have already written.
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photograph | suguru geto
warnings: no use of honorifics, reader is described as a female but it can be read as gender neutral, y/n simping very hard for geto, him simping just as hard
word count: 2k
Y/N resisted the urge to grab the brown-haired bobbed girl by the hair as she playfully rolled her eyes at the suffering she was putting her best friend through.
Shoko asked her if she wanted to go to the cherry blossom festival. Originally she thought it was only going to be just them two. A little bestie date away from tiresome missions and Yaga's constant lecturing. She was especially excited to post on Facebook about their day with cute photos. No one mentioned that that Satoru Gojo was tagging along as well. And wherever Gojo was, Suguru Geto went along too.
"You'll be fine. They're super nice and I've told them a lot about you," Shoko nudged her on the side," Plus we can have Gojo buy us crepes." before interlocking their fingers and joining the two tall males that stood only a few feet away from them.
It wasn't that Y/N hated them. No, it was quite the opposite. She honestly was quite star stuck by them.
Meeting Shoko was by chance because of a bad injury she had from one of her missions. She underestimated the grade of the curse. Almost risking her life and becoming immobilized that Nanami had to take over and finish up the mission on his own. She apologized every day after when he visited her in the infirmary for making him carry the workload that day. The typically stoic blonde haired male only shrugged and told her to get better soon each time.
While in the infirmary because of her severe injures, she spent a lot of time in there especially with Shoko that was practicing her reverse curse technique on her. They bonded over their love for the K-pop group, Girls Generation.
The chorus of Into the New World blasting through the speakers that Shoko bought comforted her as she felt her bones getting rearranged.
Despite them being best friends for a while now, Y/N still never spent time with Gojo and Geto.
Being a first year student, it's not like Y/N would cross paths with them often especially since the two were always sent out on missions together. She would often hear things from other female classmates that would fangirl over "the strongest duo".
Y/N couldn't say she wasn't any different from them especially since she harbored a huge crush on Geto. She was just more quiet about it as she admired him from afar, taking a look at him each time he was doing his daily evening run through her dorm window.
It wasn't just physical either. It was his personality. He was kind and looked out for the underclassman. There was a time that Haibara wasn't being his usual cheerful self as he was being hard on himself after practice and it was hard to get him out of the mood no matter what Nanami or her did. Later that night when she snuck out to get a drink from the vending machine, she saw Geto talking to him outside of the showers. A smile appearing on his face the next second.
The next morning, Haibara came bearing gifts from Kyoto that he said one of the second years got for them but didn't disclose who. It wasn't hard to put two and two together.
So each day, she found herself wanting to get at least a glimpse of his face. Enough just to see his face but not enough for him to notice her or have a conversation like a normal person would.
Which is why she despised Shoko at the moment.
Shoko wasn't at fault at all though. Heck, the girl doesn't even know about this big fat crush of hers.
But Y/N knowing that the boy she has been pining for the past year was going to be closer to her than he's ever been before. How on earth was she suppose to function now? Should she be flirty? No, that's too much especially when you don't even know how to. Should she be quiet? No, what if he thought she was rude. There was no time to conjure up a script or a personality that would fit today righ-
"Hello."
Stuck in her thoughts, she hadn't realized she was now standing right of him.
Her breath getting caught in her throat, watching how his hair that was normally in a bun was now flowing down to his shoulder. Tied halfway up with a bang that dreamily over his eye. His slightly chapped lips moving as he moved on to greet Shoko, moving his hand up so he could ruffle her hair.
Shoko pushed his hands away in a hurried movement. Quickly wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulder and pulling her into her side in a tight side hug,"This is Y/N Y/L/N. The first year that I've been telling you about."
"You never told us that she was pretty", Gojo smirked, his glasses tipping down so she could see his bright blue eyes.
Geto only smiled at her, greeting her with the crease of his eyes. Oh my god. That smile. She always saw it when he would be laughing at Gojo's antics but seeing it up close was something else.
Simplest way to put it: the man is gorgeous. Her heart thumped so hard she could feel it in her ears.
"You're a little shy, aren't you?" Gojo teased. Shit, was she just staring in the space again? Shoko pushed him by the shoulder.
"Leave her alone. You two are just too much. I told you to tone it down."
"You two? I haven't even done anything." Geto held his hands up in defense.
"Yet. You haven't done anything yet."
Gojo sheepshly shrugged and immediately hugged Y/N into a tight bear hug. His skinny yet firm frame engulfing her as he swung the two of them around. Over his shoulder, she made eye contact with Geto who tilted his head into her view.
" Anybody that is a good friend of Shoko is also a good friend of mine."
"Mine as well." She heard the white hair male mumble into her shoulder before getting pulled away by Shoko.
"Let's get moving. I got hungry waiting for you guys."
Because they decided to come on a weekend, it was super crowded. No space for any elbow room. Every single teenagers, adults, and their child if they had one was on this street tonight. Trying to snag a picture before pushed out by another person that wanted that same view or angle. Shoko voiced her annoyance each someone accidentally bumped into her. Normally she would be agreeing with her but she could hardly focus on that fact when she could feel Geto's muscular arm that was brushing against her. Remembering to breathe was more important.
She was almost bound to faint from how dizzy she was feeling each time he moved her in closer or out of the way from people rushing by.
It didn't help that she opted to wear a short sleeve dress today that kept flying up so she had to keep her arm down instead of moving it away from his bare arm that was exposed from the muscle tee he chose to wear instead of the school's uniform that she typically saw him in.
This totally changed her peripheral on things. She thought he made the school uniform look fantastic but he looks even better in casual clothing.
"Yo, let's take a picture here. The trees here blocks out the buildings." Gojo pointed out a spot that was a quick walk from them if they fast walked. Shoko groaned, asking if they could eat first but Gojo insisted that it was better to get their photos first so they could just sit down to eat and chill after.
Despite grumbling under her breath, Shoko easily got into line for Gojo's selfie. Gojo continously snapped pictures, the four of them striking poses. Considering how close Geto was to her, she surprisingly was still able to naturally snap poses with the group like she was friends with them for years.
"Oh, I have a polaroid!" She dug into her purse, pulling out the device. She snapped pictures of herself then of Gojo who asked for some.
Y/N found herself giggling at the silly poses that Gojo conjured and Shoko's refusal to waste film if he wasn't going to be serious about it. In the midst of it all, she hadn't noticed Geto was still standing behind her until she felt a tug on the strap out her bag.
Ready to defend herself a potential robber, she only saw Geto looking at the Keroppi keychain on her bag. "This looks familiar."
It was one of the keychain that Haibara got from him that night.
"Oh yeah. One of my classmates, Haibara, gave it to us."
Of course she knew he knew that Haibara was one of her classmates but she didn't want to accidentally slip up that she knew that specific detail about him.
"Funny. The last time I asked Haibara about his keychain, he said that he had to take it off because it got too dirty and the string broke. Nice to see yours is still intact."
"Of course I-"
She cut off herself when she remembered the reason why. It was only still intact because it was from him. Heck, Keroppi wasn't even her favorite character. It was Kuromi but Haibara wanted Kuromi and being the one that was personally gifted all the keychains, he got first choice. Before today, it was the only type of interaction she had of his and a gift was indirectly given to her. Of course, she had to take extra good care of it. Keroppi is still good as new, attached to her purse that she uses every time she goes out.
"Quick! Pose, Y/N!"
Y/N quickly snapped her head back to Shoko whose face was covered with the camera. Maybe it was instinct because Shoko did this almost all the time but she quickly posed with Geto and smiled for the picture.
After watching Shoko put the camera down and pull out the film, Y/N realized the position she put herself into. Eyeing her arms that was wrapped around his one arm with his hand still gripping onto the Keroppi.
"Of course what?"
"I'm in need of smoke break." Shoko waved around the photo for it to develop faster," There's too many people, it's stressing me out. Geto, you in?"
"Or you're just hangry." Gojo hummed, earning him another hit on the shoulder of the day.
"I will be if you don't shut up."
In fear that hell would break lose, Y/N unlatched herself from Geto, missing how his arm seemed to follow her like a magnet. "Gojo, do you want to get some crepes with me?"
Shoko winked over Gojo's shoulder at Y/N at what she considered a great suggestion, raising a thumbs up. As the two walked away, Shoko shouted for her to get as many toppings as she could fit into the treat.
"What does she think? That I'm made out of money?"
"Yes."
_
The nicotine filled stick left Shoko's turned up lips. She stared at the male who had his own cigarette in one hand and in the other, the photo that was taken only five minutes ago.
"You totally weren't expecting that, were you?"
Geto smiling down gleefully at the photo, his wallet pulled out to tuck it into the slot that would typically hold an ID card.
In the photo, Y/N was practically cuddling into his side. Because he was shocked at the sudden intimate interaction, he was looking down at her in the photo. If anybody else had seen the photo and didn't know them, they would've thought that they were a couple.
Which is exactly what Geto loved about the picture.
"You sure you don't want me to put in a good word for you?"
"No, I got it. I’d like it to happen naturally. Plus I don’t even know if she likes me back.”
“ Well you better find out because you begged me to let you come. I didn’t know you were going to bring Gojo with you.”
“ I needed my wingman.”
“That wingman is going to expose you if we don’t get back to them right now.”
“Crap, you’re right.”
After the two of them stomped their cigarettes, they walked back towards where all the food stalls. Geto stopped momentarily at one booth to pick up and buy a Kuromi keychain. Maybe one day he’d buy it all for her.
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Emergency Contact
Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader
Leave me something - or let me out.
I'm starving. Push me, pull me.
Waiting for the start of:
Things that I want, this happily ever after.
You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.
Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.
Summary:
After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.
Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.
Word Count: 10,400
Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.
List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).
sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.
mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.
A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.
This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.
...
If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.
The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?
But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.
If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.
It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.
Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.
…
You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.
He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.
When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.
“Who are your friends?” He asked.
As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.
It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.
“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.
“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.
“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.
“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.
“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.
He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.
“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.
“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”
You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.
“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.
“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.
This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.
“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.
“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.
“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.
“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.
Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.
“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.
Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.
“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”
It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.
Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.
“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.
It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.
“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.
“No way.” You scoffed.
“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.
“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.
“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.
“I am.” Dick said firmly.
“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.
“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.
The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.
You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.
He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.
“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”
“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”
Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.
“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.
Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.
“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.
It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.
His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.
When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.
“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.
You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.
“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.
You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.
When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.
Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.
…
When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.
Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.
You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.
Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.
Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.
When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.
You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.
You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.
When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.
You had no clue that you’d end up living together.
When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.
You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.
You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.
…
“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”
“Shut up.”
The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.
You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.
Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.
You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.
“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.
He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.
“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”
He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.
“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”
He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.
“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”
He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.
“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”
He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.
“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”
“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.
“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.
Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.
In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.
…
You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.
It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.
The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.
Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.
You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.
…
It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.
When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.
You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.
“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.
“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”
You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.
“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.
You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.
“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”
You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.
“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”
Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.
“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”
It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.
“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”
But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.
But you would never admit that he was right.
“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.
But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.
Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.
You just glared, and he smirked once more.
When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.
“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.
“I know.” You grinned at him.
He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.
…
Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.
Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.
But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.
When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.
You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.
Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.
Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?
Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?
Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.
And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.
So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.
You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.
And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.
…
Hectic.
That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.
Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.
Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.
But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.
Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.
Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.
The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.
The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.
After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.
You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.
So you took the leap.
You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.
A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.
His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.
“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.
“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.
He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.
“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”
It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.
He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.
You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.
“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.
He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.
“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.
It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.
Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.
“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.
Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.
Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.
“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”
That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.
“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.
Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.
“You need this treated.” He added on.
No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.
“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”
“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”
The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.
“Jason-”
You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.
But of course, he cut you off.
“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.
He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.
You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.
But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.
Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.
“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.
He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.
“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.
It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.
You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.
But, no dice.
The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.
It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.
Jason sighed through his nose.
“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”
Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.
You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.
When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.
This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.
When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.
His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.
“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”
It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.
“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”
Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.
…
Dick explicitly told you to stay put.
They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.
Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.
You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.
“Jason!”
You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.
Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.
Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)
Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.
At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.
His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.
You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.
Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.
Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.
“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.
You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.
Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.
“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.
The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.
Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.
Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.
…
You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.
“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.
It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.
It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.
You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.
“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”
It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.
You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.
Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”
There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.
‘Maybe I just have to care.’
Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.
After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.
“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”
There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.
You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.
‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’
The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.
“It’s nothing.” You told him.
You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.
Jason shook his head at this statement.
He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.
When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.
After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.
“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.
You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.
Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.
Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.
There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.
Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.
“I meant what I said.” You told him.
At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.
He didn’t find any.
You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.
…
The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.
When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.
Panic flooded you.
You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.
“Don’t move!” He shouted.
“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.
Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.
Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.
He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.
When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.
“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.
There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.
His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.
“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”
You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.
He thought he was a dead weight to your life.
“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”
You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.
“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.
You ignored him.
You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.
“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”
“You have to let go.”
Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.
But of course, you refused.
“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”
As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.
Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.
He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.
So Jason did what he had to do.
He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.
“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”
You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.
You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.
You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.
…
If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.
When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.
You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.
“All done.” He said quietly.
You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.
“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.
You felt your heart sink.
In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.
You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.
It was something else.
It had to be something else.
Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.
He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.
And now he was trying to back down from that.
You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.
The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.
In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.
You were both so vulnerable.
Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.
If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.
He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.
As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.
You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.
You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.
You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.
You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.
He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.
“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.
He knew that it would break him.
He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.
Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.
You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.
“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.
“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.
Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.
You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.
“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”
You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.
“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”
Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.
“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.
Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.
He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.
He would never be perfect - but he was yours.
...
Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.
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i adore your blog and your writing!! if you’re feeling inspired could u please write a fic where the reader’s parents fight a lot and one night it gets really bad so the reader goes to gavi or he picks her up? and he comforts her and everything is sweet. i need him to do this irl rn but anyway… have a good day / night!! love u🤍
I'm so sorry you're going through this baby. If you need to talk my chat is always open <33 This one is special for you <33
There for you
I was crying in my room hearing the sounds of their argument echoing down the hallway. I should be used to it by now after all the years of dealing with it, but every time it gets harder to listen to it knowing there is nothing i can do to stop it.
Growing up with parents that had anything but love for each other made it hard to believe in possibility to have a real family one day, but thankfully I found someone who showed me it was possible.
Since we started dating, I've told Pablo about the hardship of my family and he was so understanding promising to never make my parents mistakes in our relationship.
I was laying in bed scrolling through my camera roll smiling at our photos together trying to tune out the screams and insults coming from outside.
I could ignore anything unless when my dad gets physical like he did tonight. I heard him push my mom as she fell in front of my door with a loud bang.
I clumped on my bed holding onto my knees with one hand and dialing Pablo's number in another. I couldn't stay here anymore, I was starting to feel my panic attach creeping in.
"Hello? Amor?" he said while my tears were flooding my face smiling when I heard his voice that was enough to make me feel safer.
"Um..I need you to pick me up cariño..please?" I said my voice shaky and he knew something was definitely wrong if I was calling in the middle of the night sounding like this.
"I will be there in five minutes. Can you wait for me outside amorcito?" he said and I said that was fine as I packed some clothes into my backpack quietly sneaking out of my bedroom window. Luckily I was on the lower level so I could utilize the window when I needed it.
He was there even quicker rushing outside not even closing his door and hugging me to his chest tightly while holding my head against his chest as I cried.
"Shh..estas bien amor..estas bien..I am right here now..your Pablito is right here..and we are going to go somewhere quiet and safe okay?" he spoke and I nodded still unable to stop my tears from falling down my cheeks but at least I wasn't hyperventilating anymore when I got into the car and we drove off.
I took my shoes off pulling my knees to my chest while looking through the window wondering why do I need to have a family like this? How did I deserve to deal with this?
"Wanna hold my hand amorcito? We are almost home" he said giving you his arm and you held it against your chest playing with his fingers to distract yourself and he smiled continuing to drive slowly towards his house.
When we arrived, he helped me out walking slowly while holding my trembling body against himself kissing the top of my head when he got into his apartment.
"Let's wear some pajamas huh?" he said and I realized that I didn't pack any only bringing clothes to wear tomorrow. I told him that but he only smiled pulling me close and kissing my forehead.
"As long as I have my shirts, you will have your pajamas princesita" he said and I smiled as we walked to his bedroom looking through his closet for me to choose the shirt I wanted to wear.
"Those are all expensive Pablo.." I said not wanting to sleep in something that costed like my monthly subscription to Netflix and he chuckled shaking his head while pulling out one his Boss shirts I always complimented when he wore.
"Arms up princesita" he said and I blushed doing as he asked as he put the shirt over my body making it fall all the way below my knees like a perfect length dress.
"Looks better on you anyways..so how about we make some hot coco? I have mini marshmallows from last time too?" he said and I suddenly smiled wide that being my favorite drink which he knew really well. His eyes teared up and I was confused what happened.
"You have such a beautiful smile..you deserve to always smile preciosa...always" he said kissing the top of my head and I told him that it was alright and that I was used to dealing with this.
"Da igual.." you sigh shaking your head.
"No da igual..I promise to give you the life in which you will always smile.." he said and that made you smile more moving closer and kissing his lips lovingly. We might be young, but I trusted Pablo comeptlely and I knew he knows more about love than my adult parents ever will.
"No more tears! We are going to go make ourselves some coco and then we can cuddle if you want?" he said and I nodded quickly saying there is nothing better I could think of.
"Okay careful, preciosa. It's hot when I pour it and you can put in the marshmallows" he said and you smiled that he was always so careful not to hurt you and you waited for him to pour before putting in the squishy marshmallows in with a smile.
We sat down with our mugs and he pulled me into his arms. While I sipped on my coco, he was searching the channels smiling when he looked down at saw the little moustache I had on my face.
"Que?" I said when I saw him giggling and he used his fingers to clean me up putting it into my mouth afterwards making me blush.
"Tu eres tan preciosa" he said kissing my lips sweetly while I giggled telling him that I like Friends and that we can watch it which he quickly agreed.
We watched almost five episodes when i felt sleepy moving closer and resting my head on his shoulder while he held me tightly against himself which is exactly what I needed in this moment.
"Muchas gracias Pablo..for picking me up..and for taking care of me..Te amo mucho" I said and he smiled nodding his head and kissing the top of my head.
"Yo tambien te amo muchisimo princesita mia. No need to thank me..it's my job to take care of mi novia whenever she needs me..and I love whenever you can sleep over" he said and I smiled nodding my head and slowly dozing off to sleep.
I was already fast sleep on his chest when my phone rang and Pablo took it seeing it was my dad on the other line. His jaw clenched as he answered the call making sure to be quiet not to disturb your sleep.
"She's fine, sir. She's with me and I will take care of her..you have no idea how special your daughter is..and she doesn't deserve any of this" he said to the man before hanging up and kissing the top of your head promising himself to always be there to protect you and to give you the life you deserve in the future.
I hope you like it and I hope it helps in any way amor <3 Again, if you need to talk I'm always here! Stay strong!
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How would Croc, Bane, and Harley deal with an s/o whose libido is really high but hesitant to initiate? Like always dtf but, at the same time, not wanting to impose?
"Considerate but Wanting" Killer Croc, Bane and Harley x S/O (not poly)
While I don't deal with this particular issue, I do get why you'd be worried about that.
TW: NSFW
Killer Croc
THE PROBLEM IS... He is also very hesitant to initiate at first because of how he looks. Genuinely, he's so into you, he would consider just taking care of himself when needed to not put you out. He would take the romantic relationship over a sexual. Even with his more... carnal, animal tendencies.
There's a slim possibility he could even interpret your hesitation as not wanting that from him. It would get to the point that if you did ask, he'd insist you don't have to if you don't want to. He gets it.
Once you explain, however, he feels kind of silly about it? Not that you're silly or your concerns are silly, but that it was really just you trying to be nice vs. anything about himself. He might even joke "Because of course it had to be all about me, huh, sha?"
Tell him in the future. If he's not in the mood, he'll just tell you. The chances of that are fairly slim, though. Unless something is actually going on, he's more than happy to indulge in that wild side. Wanna go for a ride? He's not gonna complain about seeing you bounce on his cock.
Bane
He himself is fairly mindful (or at least tries to be) of things like this, so he understands. Everyone has needs and these needs should be fulfilled when possible- Whether with a partner or on their own. Plus, he'll make it clear there will be times he's not around. Whether because he's been incarcerated or his has business in other places too dangerous for you to attend...
It isn't something he would like per say or want, but he would be okay if you sought out those needs safely with a third party- Is that what this is about? He wants to be very clear and understanding on all levels of your relationship. That's just the kind of partner he is.
If it really is just a matter of feeling like you're imposing on him, he'll let you know it's not a worry. Typically speaking, even if he's not really in the mood himself, he's more than pleased to help you out. Whether it's a spicy phone call when he's away or... a helping hand between your legs when you are together- He doesn't want you to feel as if you're a bother.
In moments where he's truly unavailable either emotionally or physically, he'll just tell you. You're both adults. While some might not be able to handle these conversations with grace, he is not one of those people.
Harley Quinn
Probably the most appreciative of the gesture. She is also usually dtf most of the time but when she's off, she is off and doesn't want to feel hounded. Not that you would do that, of course, but... It's very sweet you're considerate of that. She's certainly had her fair share of partners that have tried to push even after she said she wasn't in the mood.
She would be delighted to eliminate your fear of imposition by hitting on you at every possible opportunity. If she senses that she for some reason is getting too much, she'll try to pull back but considering everything that's happened in her life, she's not shy. She's going to encourage you to not be shy, either! Be comfortable. The two of you can get real snug as a bug in each other's skin.
I think she'd really get off on seeing how long she could make that libido last. She's got a collection of fun toys you can sit on, get plugged into, whatever your fancy- She'll mark how many times you've cum in lipstick on your thighs. Or maybe you can do the same to her. It's all in good fun.
Expect spank bank pinup photos for when she's away or in an off mood. She's got you covered, sugarpop!
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🍏 to find later
AITA for sending my friend $100 as a wedding gift
(She used to use Tumblr but deleted her blog years ago so I feel comfortable sharing this.)
My (28 NB) best friend T (26 F) got married sometime within the last year or so. We had known each other for about 8 years at this point after meeting online and sort of dated on and off for about 4 of those years. We loved each other very much, I even flew out to meet her in person, but the distance got to be too much for her and I understood that and we still stayed close friends. We helped each other through bad breakups with toxic friends and lovers, and when she told me she met someone (G, 24 M) and things were getting super serious with him I couldn't have been happier for her.
The thing is though, G has always been jealous of how close T and I were. T had been upfront with him that I was an ex and that we've been romantically and physically involved in the past, but we had both assured him that nothing was going on between us anymore and that we had both moved on. But that didn't stop G from constantly thinking I was going to try to steal T away from him despite living half way across the country (I was on the west coast and T and G live in the south).
About 2 years ago, my family started making plans to move to around the same area they live in. Not super close but a day's trip, think LA to Vegas. I wasn't thrilled about the move but it was cheaper and my grandmother lives out here and she needed our help, so I did my best not to object too much to it. Besides, I figured this way I was closer to T and that I could finally meet G face to face, hopefully to settle this bad blood he seemed to think was between us and help him realize that I wasn't going to try to steal T away from him. Especially since by this time G had already proposed. Around this time though, T had told G that she had send me some rather revealing photos showing off some new body mods she had gotten, purely out of excitement. I hadn't asked to see them, she offered and said it should be fine, and well, turns out it wasn't. G got pissed and almost called off their wedding. They stayed together though and worked through it, and then a few months later T disappeared on me. Stopped responding to my messages, blocked my phone number, everything. I was already at a low point in my life because of the move and this made me get lower. After the move I got drunk one night and realized that T hadn't blocked me on Twitter so I ended up messaging her, and she got back to me immediately and explained that G had told her that if she didn't cut contact with me then he was going to leave her because he didn't think I had ever actually gotten over her and that I was going to try to steal her from him. I was hurt but I understood, especially since T was at a point where if G left her she'd have to go back to a very toxic living situation. I told her I still considered her my best friend, she still considered me hers, and that was the last time I talked to her.
Now, here's the part where I might be the asshole. Last November I was checking my Venmo to make sure my info was up to date and I realized that I still had T on there to send money to. Not only that, but T had changed her last name to G's, meaning that they must have gotten married by now. So, I decided to send them $100 as a late wedding gift. T is still my friend and I was happy for them, and I didn't mean anything bad by it, but for the last two months I've been worried that G would be upset and that it would have opened up years old wounds.
TLDR; My friend's new husband doesn't trust me and wanted her to stop talking to me, and in response I sent them $100 and a congratulations, AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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~ Death of Peace of Mind ~ 09: change
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader
photo credits go to very talented @ave661
a/n: welcome to the first turning point, enjoy the fluff till it lasts *rubs her hands devilish*
CW/TW: none, just a fucked up mission and Johnny is a teasing ass
wordcount: 3k
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Simon couldn't shake his thoughts away. No matter what he did, no matter if he was awake or not, they always lead to one person. Always circling around you, like a wolf around its prey. The way he despised you, the way he wanted to shove you into this training mat to show you where your place should be. And now? He sat at a table, listening to Johnny's rant about the dramatical dream he had last night and couldn't keep track of the words from the Scot as soon as he caught site of you entering the mess hall. His eyes automatically got dragged to you like a moth to light. Still wearing the same hoodie, you did when he frightened you in the kitchenette this morning. The exhaustion still clinging onto your body. He didn't know what made him go so under your spell, but he couldn’t avert his eyes. The image in his head started to transform and he couldn’t tell if he liked it or not. But he didn't saw the same person anymore, nothing like you were back in the briefing room on day zero.
He didn't saw the threat anymore; the threat he believed you were. He saw an ambitious soldier. He saw a comrade, a member of the 141, and a part of him wanted to see a friend. He wanted to be a friend you could reach out to. He wanted to provide you with a comfort he himself found in this team. His eyes never leaving your figure, examining every little move you made. It was ridiculous how fast an opinion can change. It felt weird, but from the earlier despise and mistrust was nothing more left. Replaced with an interest, a deep longing to understand your mind. He knew himself how complicated a life like yours could be. Letting people in was never a choice someone would easily make. He knew what pain, both mentally and physically, has to be endured. A pain most out standers would never understand, even if they say they appreciated your service. He knew how all that left scars deep into the soul and he knew that someone would rather turn cold and distant than to go through all of it again. Still, he wanted to take a look, he dared himself to get a glimpse of insight of your mind, maybe even your heart. You were nothing than honest around him and he did appreciate it. He appreciated the way you talked with him about topics he would never talk about. But he would like to listen to your voice. With every fibre in his body would he listen. Even if there were only fractures of both of your stories shared with each other, there was a bond formed that gathered him a stability. A stability your presence provided him. A stability only Gaz, Price and Soap could provide until now, but now you're a part of it. A part of Ghost's life and maybe - maybe if he would be honest with himself - he wanted you to be part of Simon's life as well.
"Aye. Lt. Are ya even listin'?", Johnny snapped his finger in front of him, before following Ghost's eyes back to you and a smirk flashed over his face. "A bit distracted, eh?", the Scot added with a mischievous tone. Ghost sent him one of his typical glares before averting his gaze back to the empty plate in front of him. "Patience isn't my best trait.", he just said calm. Johnny looked confused at him; another voice could be heard but before he could question it any further. "Well, we should be glad that we have enough time to breath between the operations at this point.", Kyle said out of the blue while sitting down next to Johnny. Gaz had no idea what the intentions of the earlier talk hold, but he supposed it was about the amount of time spent on base right now. "Are yer makin’ good progress?", Johnny gave him a curious look, while he still watched how you got yourself a coffee. Simon noticed too. How couldn't he? He was already observant from the first day and is memorizing every routine around him, and it's a thing it made him frown behind his mask. Around this time, you would still cling to a good cup of tea. You would first switch to coffee later after noon, when the work still needed your whole attention. "Aye. She really is good in tracing patterns and solving puzzles. That's a huge assistance.", Kyle said while stirring his tea. His voice still filled with some tired roughness. Simon wondered how much sleep you got. He worried – but only the slightest and just for professional purposes - that it wasn't enough at all. "Price really found our missing piece with her, eh?", Johnny laughed and waved you over, inviting you to sit with them. Ghost's eyes immediately trailed back to your figure. A strange feeling, a feeling he never knew, starting to boil in the bottom of his stomach. A feeling he couldn't label. He dismissed it with his usual concern. Concern about the wellbeing of this team and now, that you were a part of it, it only made sense that he worried about your wellbeing the same amount.
You slowly walked over, "Mornin' ", you said with an exhausted smile. Everyone greeted you in their usual manner. Your eyes didn't dare to look at Ghost. Earlier today you had no problem being in his presence. Too tired, too exhausted, too broken to care. But now your mind gave you again some images you'd rather forget about it. His glance lingering on you gave you already a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "You already on it again?", Kyle exhaled softly, looking at the cup with coffee on your hand and you nodded. "Need to crack it." - "Sit with us and eat something. Then yer can get back to the codes.", Johnny looked at you, still a bit concerned but after all just caring. You shook your head, "Later, can't relax until it's done." Ghost knew what you were up to. He did it himself so often. Burying yourself with so much work that your mind will be distracted, that will keep your brain busy so the demons couldn’t come in. He wasn't the right person to lecture you about it, so he stayed quiet. Price would sooner or later come at you for this behavior, he always did with Simon. His eyes never left you, not even when you already were on the way back to the IT department, to get the intel deciphered.
As you sat in the calm surrounding from the room you worked the last day on, sipping your coffee to get your brain back to work, your mind once more travelled through the last week. A week filled with so much emotional mess and growing you hadn't felt within the six months of trying to adjust to a normal life. Those four men achieved to turn your point of view and provided you with a place you want to protect to. Shoving the dreams aside, because they were only side effects of your needy and horny period brain. You found yourself surrounded by people you want to keep around people you want to fight for. A chuckle escaped your lips as you let the mouse cursor dance over the files on the screen. Change wasn't always a bad thing, sometimes you just need to lay back and let it happen. But that is easier said than done.
"What's so funny, Sergeant?", Kyle sat next to you and turned on the computer in front of him. "Nothing, really.", you said wearing a tired but soft smile. "Oh c'mon. Share with the class.", he placed a mug full of hot tea next to him and rummaged through some papers in front of him. "Nope, you gonna make a fuzz about it.", you jokingly pout. "As though! Tell me!" - "Attention to the task Garrick."
You didn't tell him of course, you went back into the piles of data and from time-to-time Kyle would approach you again, ask what was on your mind. He was determined to find out, and even more determined to share with the whole class aka Johnny. If you learnt something about Gaz, then you totally knew he loved to gossip. You knew he wouldn't keep quiet, and you weren't so sure if you already were down to commit that you found a liking in them. You were not good with that kind of stuff. Praising someone for a good work done, no problem. Admitting your feelings that you had when having them around you, no way. But you bet they already knew anyways. Especially Price. Your behavior towards them changed, even when they treated you almost the same as from the beginning, it changed. It changed because you changed around them. It was more warm-hearted, looking out for each other, and it was more genuine. Literally looking forward to spent time with them.
You tried to make out what brought the change, but you couldn't care too much. The way you laughed at Johnny's stories, the way you could have philosophical arguments with Kyle, the way Price always had an open door for whatever you needed, and the way Ghost was somehow always nearby. It granted you a safe zone. Something you thought you lost about a year ago. Something you thought you would never find again and still you were here. And you would make sure, that you really deserved it, that the trust you earned was justified.
Kyle would be gone sometimes, picking up a fresh coffee for both of you and something to eat. He made sure you would eat and take some breaks, even if it was just for a quick smoke or a walk around the building. He had to promise Johnny to force you to, because the Scot himself had too much on his plate with the recruits today. Him and Ghost were assigned for the training session with them and there he couldn't easily sneak away to look after you.
But what he could do was to annoy the shit out of his Lieutenant. "C'mon Lt. Dae like her. Admit it.", he cooed with a mocking tone. To be honest, Johnny had no problem with the idea that Ghost already finding his peace with you at all, but it still was unusual that it happened that fast. " Don't know what ya mean.", Ghost said stern while eyeing the rookies during their tasks. "Yer bum���s oot the windae?" - "Bloody ‘ell, MacTavish, speak English." - "I said yer talking rubbish.", this only earned him some of the usual Ghost snarl and Johnny laughed while bumping his shoulder into Ghost's. Johnny knew better, he saw it and he already planned on pushing his Lieutenant as far as possible.
The clock stroke seven when you finally stretched your limbs out. Your tired eyes hovering over the screen and just in that moment you saw something. You reached out to shamelessly hit Kyle's arm with your palm a few times to get his attention. "What?!", he shrieked from the sudden impact. "Do we still have the intel from that Russians base?", you didn't look at him, your eyes were pinned onto the monitor. Gaz looked at you with some disbelief but reached out for some hard drives and put them into his computer. There was just a little thing, a little side note, you missed while looking through the intel for god knows how often. Gaz pulled out some of the reports from the intel and there was the same note. With that little symbol you had reached a turning point. Scanning every line for more hints to put those two together. Frisking for the tiny hint. But nothing could stop you now. This little word ignited a determination within the two of you and you kept searching and searching until you found some clues. The base you frisked last week was indeed linked to Popow and with that also to the Camilo incident. "Fuck...", you exhaled and Gaz only nodded. It also meant that you missed something important while tearing the base apart. You immediately reported your lately gained information to Laswell and Price, who started to map out an emergency plan. You had to do something. Your informant back then had told you the base was empty, nothing to worry about but after your latest discovery it would quite possible that the base was still in active use. Therfore you had found way too less guards in there. It made no sense at all. But you couldn't do anything about right now. You got all information out of the files and the rest was up to your superiors now.
It was almost nine by now. Gaz tapped softly at your shoulder, "C'mon. Let's go the common room. I'm gonna make us some tea and you relax a bit." - "Do I have a choice?", you chimed while following Kyle around the base. With every step you took closer to the common room, you could feel the soreness in your limbs raise. The exhaustion from the past days creeping up your body. Gaz was the first to enter the area, closely followed by you. Johnny was in his usual spot on the smaller couch, Ghost across from him on the larger one. "Gonna make us some tea. Want some, Lieutenant?", Kyle said while directly moving to the kitchenette. Ghost only hummed in appreciation. "Yer fuckin Brits with yer tea.", Soap mocked while smiling teasingly at you. Usually, you would have taken the place right next to him, but at this moment you wanted to lay down properly. As properly as possible on that couch. Your body literally begged you for some good old cozy rest. So you walked over to the couch with the masked man, not paying much attention to him, you flinged yourself onto the longer part of the l-shaped-couch, throwing an arm over your face, and letting out a long exhale. The arm should guard you from the embarrassment that still clung onto you, while being right next to Ghost, but also to shield your exhausted eyes from the bright lights.
"That bad, eh?", Johnny teasingly nudged your foot that hung lack from the couch with his own. "Worst case scenario.", you said while not removing your arm from your face nor reacting to the impact of Johnny's touch. "What do you mean?", it was now Simon's voice echoing through your ears. "We messed up.", Kyle started to explain while handing Ghost a cup, and waited for you to sit up to take your own. So you did. Leaning into the comfort of the couch listening to the men brag and discuss the situation you found yourself in. You tried to keep track of everything, but you were too tired and you could feel how your body wanted to get the rest it needed.
Just the sudden feeling of weight on your right shoulder dragged your attention to the gloved hand resting there. You blinked in confusion at the masked face next to you. "Sorry, what?", you didn't even realised someone was talking to you. Especially not that it was him. "You look sick, Sergeant.", he stated calm, not removing his hand from your shoulder. His touch felt utterly comforting. Your head fell back into the couch. "I'm fine. Just tired.", you exhaled while clinging onto the mug in your palms for your dear life.
Without a warning you felt a soft palm onto your forehead, and then your cheek. "Yer burning.", Ghost had removed his hand from your shoulder, took his glove off and placed his hand onto your face. It was gentle and hesitant, it didn't lingered there for long anyways. Still definitely longer than he intended. But his touch felt so weirdly good and dear. "Maybe you should get it checked.", Johnny intervene. Kyle giving you a concerned look as well. You shook your head, "I know my body, okay? It's always the same during this time of the month.", you sighed. The heat on your cheeks were totally blamed due your period, but the closeness from your Lieutenant only made it worse. All three men exhaled with a little and nearly inaudible 'oh', not wanting to push the topic any further and decided to rather trust you on this.
The men, mostly the two across from you, talked about the whole situation. Ghost only added some comments, his eyes always tracking your figure from aside. Checking if your status got any worse. His eyes did widen in surprise as he could catch a glimpse of your head completely falling back, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. Your chest lifting in regular and deep pace. You were asleep, so deep asleep you didn't care about the other two men laughing wholehearted. The view in front of his eyes made something within the cold wall around himself melt. A slight smile creeping onto his lips. A genuine smile hidden behind his mask. He gently took the mug out of your hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. He didn't dared to avert his gaze from your figure. The peaceful sight of you silently snorring gave him a strange feeling of pleasure. You felt safe enough around them to fall asleep right here and now. This had to be the greatest compliment someone like Simon could get.
Johnny smiled at you while Kyle only shook his head. "Says she knows her body but doesn't know when to rest.", he chuckled.
taglist: open just lmk
@yyiikes @saffronimagines @originaldeerhottub @illuminwtesz @killergoddess97 @kaelaiscool
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LOVE IS A CHORE !
premise. a step by step guide on how ( not ) to fall in love with your best friend. — ft. xiao
reader is gender neutral, modern (?) au, everyone is in university here, mentions of throwing up but it doesn’t actually happen, xiao is a musician but it isn’t a major plot point i was just inspired by the newest promo video.
one. realize you are in much deeper than you thought.
The first time Xiao felt the switch flip inside of him, the cherry blossoms were starting to bloom on the first day of spring.
It was the last day of the seasonal fair—and you had invited him out to enjoy the evening together. Because your friend had bailed on you and you didn’t want the spare ticket to go to waste. Of course he agreed, what reason did he have not to?
And when he shows up ten minutes late with flushed cheeks and tousled hair and more apologies than he's ever said in his entire life—you laugh it off, assure him it's okay, and jokingly let him know that he still had the rest of the evening to make it up to you.
Xiao takes your words extremely seriously, and as nervous and paranoid and cracked out of his mind he is—he is determined to make it a night the both of you remember. And as always, he keeps his word. You aren’t sure of the last time you had this much fun.
When it’s time for the fireworks to start, he finds himself looking only at you—because you insisted that this is where you get the best view. ‘How cliche,’ he thinks to himself when you drag him to the attraction. But he makes no move to sway you otherwise, and you soon find yourself suspended in the air, sitting right beside him in the ferris wheel's carriage.
You look so nice like this. Well, you always look nice, but this time it’s different. This time it’s just you and him and the muffled sounds of the fireworks booming in the distance. And Xiao thinks that if every day could be like this, with just you and him, maybe that kind of life wouldn’t be so bad.
The realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning. That this is a problem. That he’s really screwed now. That ones Hu Tao finds the cheesy photos the two of you took at the photo booth it is absolutely over for him.
But, Xiao has never given up before. So, in theory, he should be fine… Right?
two. accidentally confess your feelings thinking you’re alone, run away when it turns out you aren’t.
The answer is no; Xiao is not fine. He has spent way too many sleepless nights cursing himself and trying to get you out of his head. It is so easy to not catch feelings for your best friend, how could he have messed up this bad? Xiao thinks it’s stupid, idiotic, and so not like him. It’s just some stupid crush, it’ll go away—it has to go away. Because it’s interfering with his every day life, and Hu Tao will not leave him alone.
The time is noon, this was supposed to be a joint study session between him, Hu Tao, Kazuha, and you. But this time you were the one running late, Kazuha is off in his own world, and Hu Tao decided that instead of actually studying, she wanted to spend her time trying to get a certain phrase out of Xiao’s mouth. One that definitely wasn’t even true.
“Are you done?” he finally speaks and looks at her from across the table with an unamused expression. “Why are you so adamant on this anyway?”
She rolls her eyes and lifts up a finger directly up to his face, “Because you are so obviously in denial! By the way, everyone already knows you like each other. The only two people dumb enough to not realize it are you two.”
Denial is a strong word. And quite honestly, Xiao thinks he could get pretty comfortable with it.
But the corners of his eye twitch ever so slightly, his grip on the pen tightens in his hold, and those two smug grins are almost enough to send him right into a coma—even if he doesn’t physically show it.
“Right… So then what if I do?” He chooses his words carefully, like he’s only entertaining the thought. Like he doesn’t actually have these feelings for you. Because that’s ridiculous, and he would never fall in love.
“You do,” Hu Tao corrects him without missing a beat, and Xiao finally gives up.
“Okay, fine. I do. Now what?”
The grin on her face spells nothing but trouble, and the regret that settles upon seeing it is enough to last Xiao a lifetime and more of embarrassment and shame.
Hu Tao echos your name, something that irritates Xiao more than it should have because yes, obviously it was you. Who else would it be, they were quite literally just talking about this? Unfortunately for him, Hu Tao finds nothing but joy in playing tricks like these—especially if it got a reaction.
“Hmm…. I don’t know, the only thing left to do is start dating and get married!”
Xiao almosts bursts at that sentence alone, his face exploding into the brightest shade of red anyone has ever seen. “Are you crazy?!” he stares at her in a flustered fury, “Don’t even joke about something like that, I’m not going to marry—”
His voice calls flat when he spots you out of the corner of his vision. You’re standing in the doorway, shocked with the most deer in the headlights look carried onto your face. Anything Xiao wants to say finds itself caught in his throat, and he decides to do something he hasn't done for years to come—he bolts for the door and rushes himself right out of the library.
three. try to go back to the way things were, curse yourself when it’s not that easy.
Three days have passed since that incident, and to say things were awkward would be a horrible understatement. Xiao, against his own will, had completely forgotten how to talk to you.
He called you later that night to apologize. That Hu Tao was just trying to rile him up, that he was sorry if you were uncomfortable at all, that you could just forget that entire thing had even happened in the first place. Anything to save both him and you the embarrassment.
You tell him it's alright—you always do. And you invite him to hang out at the nearby arcade, to make things up and to hopefully ease the heavy tension.
It doesn't work. because the moment he sees you he feels like running all over again. Xiao doesn't know if you feel it too, but the awkwardness that lingers in the air is so thick he feels like coughing up the springs in his chest. But he pushes through the discomfort—he promised a fun afternoon, and he doesn't break promises.
And he tries to avoid the subject of his “confession” by any and all means possible. It’s easier than it turns out to be, because Xiao is too busy dragging you around to even think about anything else.
There’s a monotonous buzz in his ear, something he dismisses as a byproduct of being around all of the beeping machines and blasting music. He can hear you call out to him, something out of concern he can only assume—everything is a blur, but Xiao promises he just needs to sit down for only a little bit.
When did he become so scatterbrained? It was never this bad before, he was never nervous around you before. You’ve known each other since elementary school, you were neighbors for even longer than he can remember, he’s slept in the bed of your childhood bedroom. So what changed? What happened to him?
No, nothing happened to you. It was definitely him, something was deeply and fundamentally wrong with him. Because you’re so close, and your hand is on his back because he keeps coughing up a storm, and the scent of your perfume is so sweet that it makes him want to throw up.
Xiao goes home with a high fever and guilty apologies. What was supposed to be a fun day out turned into you walking him back to his dorm room. You promise him it’s okay, and that you only want him to feel better soon. And Xiao, despite wanting to say so much more, says nothing.
He wakes up in a cold sweat later that night, smothered in bed sheets and in the same boring-walled dorm room.
Really, Xiao doesn't think he can keep up this act for very much longer.
four. know that love means being vulnerable, but not weak.
Ganyu almost drops the vase in her hands when Xiao gives her the run down. They were moving things from the concert hall when she’d noticed he was out of it, more so than usual. And against her better judgement, the ever so kind Ganyu prodded him with a stick and jumped back when he actually took the bait.
“And you just… Ran away?” She repeats, wide eyes in disbelief like he had just told her something blasphemous. When Xiao only confirms everything with a bored shrug she almost wants to pull her own hair out. Of course, she was more understanding than most other people, but even Ganyu had her limits. How could he treat this situation so casually? Like he wasn’t ruining his chances with you at this very moment? Like he wasn’t going to cause everyone in his inner circle to start aging prematurely?
Xiao doesn't even deny it and admits to everything with a straight face—that he did run away after indirectly confessing to you, that he’s been trying to avoid you in hopes that these feelings would finally die down, that it’s not working in the slightest and now he only misses you even more than he already did.
Truly, you’re the only one that knows. That underneath his blank eyes and bored expression, Xiao is just as afraid of his own feelings as anybody else. And he could never hate you for simply being you. But you know things about him that he doesn’t even know about himself—and that’s more than terrifying to think about.
He’s spent so long building his character and making sure he’ll never been used again. But you come in with that stupid smile and your dumb sparkly eyes and Xiao feels himself grow weak in the knees and heavy in his chest.
“Would you be okay with that? Dating, I mean.” Ganyu asks after a silence that lasts a little bit too long.
Xiao doesn't say anything. Would he be okay with it? Of course he would. Because you don’t flush at the thought of holding your best friend’s hand, you don’t think about what it would be like to date them, and you definitely don’t dream about kissing them under the moonlight.
And Xiao thinks to himself, that if you were willing to have him, he’d be more than okay with it.
five. confess your feelings — for real this time.
It’s raining, one of the harshest days of the season, and Xiao has caught the weather on a horrible day. He hadn't even bothered to bring an umbrella, soaked through his jacket and pounding his shoes against the slippery pavement in a rush to get to the library, where he was supposed to be 10 minutes ago in a last minute project group work.
He stops only when a shop door opens suddenly and skids to a halt just in time to avoid running straight into you. He stiffens ever so slightly when your eyes meet and you immediately shift to avoid contact, a small part of his heart squeezes in his ribcage. But Xiao’s throat is tight and dry, and any words caught in his chest are unable to come out.
Of course it would be awkward, he's been avoiding you for his own selfishness after all. And at this point, Xiao wouldn't even blame you if you began to resent him even just a little bit. But instead, you silently lean the umbrella over his head and give him a gentle smile. The same one as always.
“Come on,” you tell him, “I’ll walk you to wherever you need to go.”
He lets you, not even daring to argue back. There’s a lot of things he needs to say before his nerves finally kick in and he chickens out. But his hands are sweaty in his pockets and he can feel his chest on the verge of exploding by the second.
What are you thinking about right now, he wonders—stealing glances at you every so often when you aren’t looking. He just has to say it, just has to force the words out of his throat, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can't do it. And the two of you arrive at the library before Xiao can even blink, and he curses himself for being such a coward in such a crucial moment. Of course it would turn out this way, how humiliating.
“Well, we’re here.” You say with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, something close to regret flutters in your irises. “It was nice, seeing you again. I don't know if you have something going on, but you've been acting weird lately, I guess I missed you a little bit. But if you ever—”
“I like you!”
Xiao blurts out the words without thinking of anything else, exploding them out into the world like confetti on new year's day. His cheeks are flushed, he’s still soaking wet. It’s messy, disorganized, and it’s not even close to the perfect scenario he crafted in his daydreams. But It’s so perfectly him that you just can’t say anything else.
“I like you a lot. I always have. and I think I was so scared that you would hate me; or you would think I’m weird, or that you didn't like me back. And when you walked in that day I was so panicked I didn't—”
He stops talking only when he finally takes note of the tears that build up in your eyes. He blinks once, twice, a third time—then, the reality sinks in and his mind goes into overdrive. In one moment you were standing in front of him, and in the next he met you with a tight embrace, not caring that he was getting your own clothes absolutely drenched.
“I’m sorry,” Xiao whispers quietly when your hands tighten around the sleeves of his jacket.
“Shut up,” you grumble through muffled words and your umbrella fallen beside you on the pavement. For once, you’re thankful that the rain is able to hide your tears—or make them less obvious at the very least, “I’m mad at you right now.”
You aren’t, he knows you aren’t. But really, Xiao thinks he just might've just deserved that one.
six. remember that nothing necessarily has to change at all.
Two weeks have passed since his clumsy confession, two weeks since he’s “officially” become your boyfriend. In quotations, because it feels like it’s always been this way with you. You still watch cheesy romcoms every Saturday, you still support him whenever he has a performance due, Xiao still clings to you in your sleep like he’s done ever since the two of you entered high school.
The only difference now is that he can hold your hand whenever he wants to, and you don’t feel weird about coming around just to hug him from behind anymore. And while he still gets butterflies every time he even thinks about it, it’s more socially acceptable for him to kiss you when he feels like it.
And most times they don't even feel like dates, but now he gets the special 'couples only discount,' at the local cafe, and Hu Tao’s annoying kissy faces become more of a tease than a taunt, and Kazuha is, well, Kazuha.
It’s messy, it’s unorthodox, and it’s a long way from being perfect. But it’s with you, and for Xiao, that’s already more than enough.
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i feel like alba taking bambi is a bit extreme. hear me out! like yes ofc caring for one kid more than the other is bad!! but with the whole ale forgetting bambi at daycare it’s like what parent hasn’t forgot to pick up their kid once. like does that make sense like i feel like especially because it happend only once and she was at her job when she forgot that shouldn’t warrant alba legit taking her daughter away from her? like it just wasnt THAT big of a deal like ofc it’s not good but i think alba is reacting a bit over the top about it. idk maybe my perspective is different, but what do you think? id love to hear your opinion as the writer
I don't think you guys understand just how much I love answering these kinds of asks. Also, sorry in advance because this is going to be a lot of psych ramble but genuinely parent-child relationships and their impacts are actually so fascinating to me
So, the whole Alexia forgetting Bambi thing would be a big escalation if that was the only reason Alba had for removing Bambi from her home. It looks like the only reason but there were a lot of other things that Alba would have noticed when she got Bambi from nursery.
So, first of all, what Alexia's been doing is emotional neglect. Compared to other forms of neglect, emotional neglect is one of the harder ones to recognise because it's not as obvious as something like physical neglect.
The signs are very subtle and it's difficult to notice if you're not a child's primary caregiver.
From Bambi's perspective, she's been shoved to the side a bit since Jaume was born. She was never really close to Olga so she can cope with that in a sense (not that she should have to) but Alexia's disregard for her definitely hits hard.
It's a lot of little things built up onto each other. In Injured IV, when Alexia comes home she immediately greets Olga and Jaume but doesn't even spare Bambi a look. Bambi stays under that coffee table for quite a while in the hope that Alexia will notice she's not there and look for her but she never does.
She also mentions when Jaume isn't 'being good' then she doesn't get things like a bedtime story or cuddles at bed which is essentially her equating Jaume crying with the fact that Alexia yet again forgetting about her and that his needs trump her own.
There's also the fact that all of Bambi's individual pictures have been changed to ones of her and Jaume which leads to her thinking that she's only worth anything if her brother is attached to it. Similarly, all of the pictures she drew have been taken off the fridge in favour of a photo of Olga, Alexia and Jaume. Even when she lets Alba put her drawing up in Injured IV, she places it on the side of the fridge where it won't be seen as clearly.
Bambi also learnt how to cry quietly. When Kids are younger they can't communicate their feelings properly and crying loudly gets the attention of a caregiver so they can receive comfort. Bambi's learnt to cry quietly because she knows that no one will come to give her comfort if Jaume is also crying even though there are two adults in the house, one for each of them.
Emotional neglect really builds on a child as young as Bambi and causes effects like low self-esteem, depression and anxiety and in more extreme cases failure to thrive and Bambi, sadly, is on track for all of them.
Now, that's all from Bambi's perspective and, of course, Alba can't know all of that because she's not Bambi's primary caregiver.
She can only go off on what she can see. What she knows for sure, at first, is that Alexia and Olga have both forgotten Bambi.
That isn't what makes her take Bambi though.
She gets a notification from the Barca account saying that they're meeting their youngest teammate and it's got a picture of Alexia, Olga and Jaume so it's not like both of them were super busy and that's why they forgot Bambi.
There's also the change in routine that Bambi mentions. She used to get a new train every week and when Alba mentions that, she finds out that Bambi hasn't received a new train in weeks (more like months) which is a massive deviation from an established routine.
There's also the celebration they watch on tv with Alexia winning the Copa de la Reina and all those pictures of her with Jaume and the cup and there's no hint at all that she realises Bambi isn't there with her.
There's obviously Bambi's reaction to that too and her tearing up the picture because she doesn't think it's real (bearing in mind that it's a picture of her, Alexia, Olga and Jaume as a family).
It's clear to Alba that something is going on and Bambi isn't doing well because she's been in such a sad mood since she picked her up and then Bambi hides herself away in her room and Alba can't get the door open.
It's a pretty big emotional outburst from Bambi and quite out of character to how she had been previously.
Honestly, everything is out of character from what Alba previously knows - both Alexia and Bambi and it's enough for her to think that perhaps the two need to be separated.
The anger from Injured IV comes in because it's been hours since the final ended and Bambi hid herself away compared to when Alexia, Olga and Jaume come home.
Throughout that entire time, Bambi wasn't even a thought. Alexia didn't even realise Bambi had been left at nursery until she got home which is hours after Alba had to cancel her own plans to get Bambi.
The anger probably escalated the situation a bit more than it needed to but Alba had hours to stew and piece everything together so Bambi's removal from Alexia was warranted once she'd put it all together.
That's all from Inured IV, not onto Injured V:
So childhood emotional neglect is especially impactful the younger a child is. Bambi is around 4 and she's at that age where she's beginning to understand her own and others emotions. Having a stable caregiver to help her work through this is crucial and she doesn't have that so there's a big chance that she'll be developmentally delayed because of it.
This, of course, could lead to big impacts down the road when she goes to school and makes friends and even when she gets older and develops adult relationships.
She's already got low self-worth and is trying to be too independent at too young an age because to her, nobody wants to pay attention to her.
In Injured V, she actually flinches away from Alexia when she tries to grab her because she's now used to being ignored by her mother and having Alexia suddenly wanting her is overwhelming and strange.
It's seen in Injured V how different Bambi is in Alexia's home vs Alba's home when she's genuinely excited to show Alba the picture she made because she's still in her developmental stage and is still able to adapt and come back from this - at least in a way that will have minimal impact on her emotional development and regulation.
Of course, we also find out that Bambi at least suspects that she wasn't as planned as previously thought. She knows Jaume was definitely planned but she's slowly finding out that she wasn't so that's another hit to her confidence. She equates how Jaume is being treated to him being wanted and how she's being treated to her not being wanted.
When Eli comes and all of this comes out, it's clear that this is deep rooted stuff.
As I said previously, emotional neglect is one of the forms of neglects that's hardest to notice. Alba has no way of knowing just how long this has been going on for and just how close this is to having extremely detrimental effects to Bambi's emotional development.
The low self-esteem is already there. She's nervous at the thought of seeing Alexia, Olga and Jaume so there's some anxiety setting in too. For all Alba knows, the depression could be next and if she had left Bambi there, the potential of failure to thrive is quite high too.
So, honestly, Alba removing Bambi was probably the best way to do it. With Bambi with Alba, she would know how she was doing and even if she had left Bambi there and explained what was happening to Alexia, there was always a chance that it could regress back to the neglect again even if Alexia promised to work on it.
Honestly, the standard practice for suspected emotional neglect should be to report it to child services so Alba is actually doing Alexia a favour by not getting them involved.
But, yeah, this is really long but those are essentially the thought processes of everyone 🤷♀️
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Recovery - Chapter 12
Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction
Summary : Reader explains the origin of the nude pictures and Em decides to take action to prevent them from leaking.
Tags : Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Smut
CW : Argument - Mention of domestic violence - Mention of nudity - Sexual intercourse - Mention of drugs and overdose
Three years ago, you were just starting out your relationship with Simon. The two of you had been beating around the bush for a while and he had finally asked you out, right when you thought you were stuck in the friendzone forever. However, as time went on, things had not progressed the way you hoped they would. The dates he took you on were always nice and you had fun getting to know each other on a more personal level. You could even go as far as to say that some of these dates were extremely romantic. But after nearly five months of dating, you had not gotten past kissing and a bit of mild foreplay. Eventually, you’d grown tired of it and started to wonder if there was something wrong with you. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to you that way, or maybe you weren’t pretty enough. Or maybe you hadn’t been sending the right signals ? Either way, part of you wanted to send the message that you were ready to take things further, on a physical level. That is when Cassie suggested that you send him a few suggestive photos. She presented the idea in such a way that it actually sounded good, even though it was slightly out of character for you. She wasted no time and even took you shopping for some nice lingerie. You went back to your dorm room where you set up your camera and snapped shots in the different sets you had bought before sending them to your friend so that she could tell you which one you should send to Simon. Eventually, though, you decided against sending the pictures, going so far as to delete them. This proved to be a good decision. It turned out that Simon was attracted to you - more than you thought - but wanted to plan the perfect evening and make it romantic. Plus, you’d come to learn that he thought really poorly of girls who took this type of suggestive pictures anyway. If anything, you sending him those pictures would have ruined your chances with him. You never mentioned the shots to him and even came to forget about them. Until they showed up in Paul Rosenberg’s inbox, that is.
When he showed them to you, you were in complete shock, taken aback. You didn’t even remember taking these pictures in the first place. With the events of the last few months, your memory wasn’t the sharpest either, so it took a while for you to actually remember taking them and in what circumstances. But now it was clear as day : Cassie hadn’t actually deleted the pictures as you had directed her to. It was the only reasonable explanation.
Oh God, you whispered as you put the pieces together.
What ? Marshall asked.
I took these pictures when I was with my ex, you started to explain.
And that motherfucker leaked them ?! He started to yell.
He would never, you said. But that’s besides the point. I never actually sent them to him. Didn’t have the guts. I deleted them and thought they didn’t exist anymore. But I had sent them to Cassie.
Cassie ? He asked. I mean, I know there’s some drama with her, and that she said some unkind things, but are you sure she would leak some intimate pictures of yours ?
That’s the thing, you said. I’m pretty sure she sees me as the opposite now. Talia paid her a visit and… apparently, things escalated.
Yeah, I know that… she was going to talk to her, he said. But how bad could it have been ?
They pretty much beat each other up…
Shit, he said in an annoyed voice.
You shrugged. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. You looked at Paul.
So… In your opinion, what do you think I should do ? You asked.
As I said, a procedure could take weeks, months even. But if he is to be believed, we only have a few days, he explained. I’m afraid you can’t do much. It’s a double-edged sword, really. If you were to confront her, this might prompt her to leak them.
I’m scared she’ll leak them anyway, you said. I mean… It doesn’t make much sense for her to send them to someone she doesn’t know just so that they’d have leverage over Marshall over some stupid diss-track, does it ?
You bit your lip. Your heart was starting to pound again. The idea that anyone else might come across these pictures made you sick. Marshall grabbed your hand.
I’ll take care of it, he said reassuringly.
But there’s nothing you can do, now, can you ? You asked nervously.
I’m not letting anyone get to you like this, he said firmly. Now, stop biting that lip and go hang out with the guys. I need to talk to Paul for a second.
I can’t face them, you said sheepishly.
Just for a minute, alright ? Then I’ll let you settle in the office so that you can work in peace, he offered.
You nodded and went to the lounge where you found the others talking. As soon as they saw you, they went completely silent.
Hey Y/N, Porter said. How are you doing ?
I’m good, you lied through your teeth.
You look lovely, Royce said.
Guys… I know you know. Please don’t pity me, you said with a sad smile.
No one’s pitying you, sis’, Jamal said.
If anything, we’re ready to kick some ass, Royce added. Seriously, what do you need ?
A Time Machine, you sighed.
Don’t worry, Porter said. We’re going to destroy that son of a bitch.
You smiled softly and made your way to the kitchen. You were depressed and wished there was something you could do. You couldn’t believe Cassie could do this to you. When you confronted her, you were mad, but you figured that the two of you would remain friends and get over it eventually. You thought you just needed time to forgive her. Surely, she couldn’t be mad at you for simply leaving her hotel room after an argument ? That didn’t make sense. Or maybe you were delusional and her altercation with Talia was biggen than you thought.
You let your tears flow silently as you made yourself a cup of tea. A few moments later, Marshall came to see you.
Hey beautiful, he said as he pulled you in for a hug. The office is ready for you. How about you take it easy today ? I could order some food for you, you could take a nap…
Mmmh, you simply said.
I’m so sorry, he said.
You shrugged, not saying anything. He kept his arms around you, even though you were not really responsive.
Really, Y/N, if I had known it would happen, I…, he began.
But you did nothing wrong, Marshall, you sighed. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. If I hadn’t gotten wasted, we wouldn’t have been spotted together and he wouldn’t have dropped that diss. I’m sorry.
It’s… What’s done is done, ok ? He said softly. He probably would have dropped a diss anyway. I mean, he came for a bunch of other rappers. So none of it is your fault.
He gently took your hand and led you to the office where you ended up spending the day working. Every so often, you couldn’t help but check your Instagram, which was blowing up. Even though you didn’t post anything nor interact, people kept on commenting on your pictures and DMing you. Eventually, you decided to change your profile to private. When you were ready to go home, you went to search for Jamal. In the hallway, you found Marshall and Talia, talking casually, a far cry from their last interaction.
Hey baby, she said softly.
Hey, you replied. I didn’t know you were here.
Just arrived, she explained. I came to pick you up, actually. Let’s go home, ok ?
Oh, I think Jamal was about to leave anyway, you said. But I’m glad to see you !
Jamal is staying here for a bit, Marshall explained. I need him to work on the beat for… You know.
Are you really going to reply ? You asked. I thought you didn’t want to.
Insults are one thing, he replied. This is going too far. I’m taking care of it.
You looked at him anxiously but he gave you a soft smile.
So… Are you guys… Alright ? You asked him and Talia, referring to their altercation from the other day.
Oh, that… Yeah, of course, Talia said.
Something in her tone seemed a bit uneasy, but you were tired and figured it was just your brain playing games with you. You hugged everyone goodbye and went home with Talia. The two of you spent the evening playing board games in order to help you clear your mind. You were about to go to bed when someone rang the doorbell. When you went to open the door, you found Simon standing there, a bouquet of peonies in hand.
Hey, Y/N, he said.
Simon ?! You asked in disbelief. What are you doing here ?
Look, I debated coming here at all, but I needed to see you, he replied. I’ve been thinking about you a lot these past few days and… I think I made the biggest mistake in my life when I left you. Can we… talk ?
Uh… Sure, you said.
You closed the door and went to the garden with him, sitting on the bench.
These are for you, he said as he handed you the bouquet. I know these are your favorites.
Thank you, you said softly.
It was weird that your ex was giving you flowers, but you were touched by the gesture. He remembered they were your favorites. Plus, after the day you had, it was more than welcome.
So… You wanted to talk ? You asked as you put the flowers aside.
Yes, he said. I have been an ass, I know it. I should have acted better. What I did was… unforgivable, really.
Thank you, you said.
I was hoping that, maybe, we could… Start seeing each other again ?
What about Sarah ? You asked. I thought she made you happy.
She did. She is great. But she is not you, he explained. The last few months of our relationship were hard but I’ve come to realize that… At the end of the day, you are the woman I promised to marry and have kids with. I can’t get over that. I’m not asking you to move back in, yet. I understand that we’re going to need time, but… I want you back, Y/N. I was serious when I said I wanted to have a family with you. I want to care for you.
Oh Simon, you squealed. I am not in the right headspace, right now…
Is it about him ? He asked. That Eminem guy ? Are you really seeing him ?
No, it’s not, you assured him. And his name is Marshall.
You can’t be with a guy like that, he said.
A guy like what ? You asked.
Y/N, he is… a rapper. These guys are dangerous. I mean, he is clearly a thug.
You let out a small laugh. You had come to forget that Simon had quite a disdain for hip-hop and rap. He was very similar to your father this way. To him, it didn’t qualify as “proper music”. You had never given it much thought before, but now, it made him seem like a total snob. The people you hung out with, they were far from being thugs.
He is not a thug, you said. He is great. And I owe him a lot.
Is it about the money ? He asked.
What the hell is that question ?! You asked back, clearly offended. Simon, you know me. I’m not… I’m not after money. I couldn’t care less about that !
Then what reason do you have to be with him ? Guys like that… They’re dangerous, he said with concern.
You haven’t met him, Simon. He is the least dangerous person I know, you said.
You don’t have to defend him, Y/N, he replied.
No, you don’t understand…
What good can he be for you ? He asked. I heard about the song that mentions you. And the threats to post pictures of you. If you were with me, you wouldn’t have to deal with that.
That’s not his fault, you sighed at the unfairness.
I don’t want to see you get hurt, Y/N… You know he beats up women, right ?!
You… What ?! You exclaimed. Simon, this is ridiculous. I know him, alright ? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. I know he has a reputation but it is nothing more than a persona, some tasteless jokes at worst. If you listened to his music, or if you knew him, you’d know.
He admitted to it, he said. I… When I saw you with him, I had to look into him, you know ? Just to make sure that you’re safe. And… Who in his right mind talks about killing his baby’s mother in a song ?! That’s not the kind of man you want to be associated with.
You sighed and looked at him. In truth, you hadn’t caught up with Marshall’s work so you had no idea what the hell Simon was referring to. But you knew Marshall enough to know that he was the least violent person on earth. The man you hung out with, that you befriended, was a gentleman and he would never hurt a woman.
You don’t know him, you simply said. I do. I know what he is made of, and he is not like this. He is one of the most important people in my life right now, and I won’t have you talk about him this way.
No, you don’t understand, Y/N, he repeated. This man is not good for you. He will never love you like I do.
He has my back and I have his. And he has shown me more love than you have in the past five months, you pointed out. For someone who loves me, you were nowhere to be found.
Yeah but when I saw you with him, I…
So that’s what it is about, you huffed. You just don’t want to see me with another man. That’s not love, Simon. That’s… territorial. You know, weeks ago, I would have given anything for you to knock on my door with peonies. I would have given anything for you to tell me you love me and that you want me back. But it is worthless if it comes from a place of jealousy and possessivity. I’d rather be alone.
He stared at you, looking sorry.
So it’s him instead of me ? He asked.
It’s me instead of anyone else, Simon. I am growing, I am changing and, believe me, I am not in the right headspace right now, you said. But if I have to put it this way… Yes, it’s him instead of you. I will have his back any day.
Don’t come crying when he hurts you, he simply said. You may have his back, but this type of man will always put himself first. Not you. No matter how you deserve it. He doesn’t have your back. Not even a little bit.
I think you should go, Simon, you said softly. Thanks for the bouquet, though. And for what it’s worth… I am sorry I said some unkind things last time you came. I wish for you to be happy. But it won’t be with me.
He stared at the ground while you got up and wished him good night. You went back in the house and put the flowers in a vase before going to bed.
When you woke up the next morning, you heard Talia and Jamal arguing in the kitchen.
Can’t you grab her phone and delete the apps so that she doesn’t see that thing ? Jamal asked.
She’s not stupid, Jamal, Talia argued. I think she deserves to know. If it were me, I would want to.
I can’t take her to the studio today, he said. Not like this.
You know full well we can't leave her alone in here, she said. Especially not if she sees… Who knows what she would do…
You finally entered the room, interrogation all over your face.
Shit, Jamal mumbled.
Hey baby, Talia said. How are you ?
You tell me, you sighed.
So… You heard us ? Jamal asked carefully.
You shrugged.
What’s that about ? You asked as you grabbed a glass of juice. Shouldn’t you be at work already, Tay ?
Yeah, I’m running a little late, she said in an annoyed voice. Look… A couple things happened. And I don’t know how to break it to you. We have… News. Good and less good.
About what ? You asked.
There’s a couple of things, Jamal said. First… We found a connection between Cassie and the rapper. Talia did, actually. That explains a few things.
Huh ? You asked. They know each other ?
The guy’s her cousin, Talia explained.
Are you sure ?
Yeah, she said. It hit me yesterday. When we were in the early days of college, she kept on bragging about how her cousin from New York was a rapper and how he was going to make it big and work with… Whoever. I did a bit of research and it turns out… It’s him.
That explains a few things, I guess, you sighed. Is there… Something else ? Like, bad news ?
Look, honey, Talia said softly as she grabbed the glass of juice from your hands. Maybe you should sit for a second ?
She pulled a chair for you and you sat, staring at them. It felt as if they were about to tell you that someone had died.
Now, I know this sucks, but I want you to remember that, whatever happens, we are here for you, ok ? She said.
Just spill it, you said.
Well, the thing is… Hum… How do I put this…
One of the pictures leaked already, Jamal said.
Your jaw was on the floor. You wanted to scream but were unable to.
A picture… of… me ? You asked. Of me naked ? It… It is on the Internet ?!
It’s not that bad, Talia said immediately. It could be worse, really…
No, Tay, you have no idea, you said. I have seen the pictures they plan on leaking. It’s bad.
I know. I haven’t but this one is ok, I guess, she replied. I mean… Some of my bikini pics aren’t that modest.
She pulled her phone and showed you the picture that was published on Twitter, on the rapper’s account. It was you, wearing a black lace bodysuit. You were laying in your bed, looking ingenuous, the black lingerie contrasting with the white bedsheets. In all fairness, it wasn’t as bad as a lot of pictures you could see on Instagram and other social media. Definitely more modest than some. Still, having this picture put out for the world to see without your consent was humiliating. It also made you scared, as you knew that this picture was the most modest of the whole set. The rest of them were clearly more suggestive. The reception was mixed. Some followers of the rapper didn’t shy away from commenting on your body (for better or for worse), mentioning how embarrassing it must be for Em to be with such a slut. Some people, however, expressed support for you and mentioned what a low blow it was to drag someone’s innocent partner in a feud. A few even encouraged others to report the pictures. Still, you were embarrassed. You buried your face in your hands.
Oh my God, you whispered. It’s happening.
There has to be something we can do, Talia said.
You need to take me to the studio right now, you told Jamal. I need to see Paul about this.
He simply nodded and you rushed upstairs to get ready. When you got to the studio, it was earlier than usual. Jamal stayed outside to smoke a cigarette while you got in, searching for Paul. As soon as you entered the building, you heard loud voices in the kitchen. It was Marshall arguing with Paul.
I’m just saying that it may be a better idea to distance yourself from her, Paul said. If you put out the track, it’s going to seem like the guy’s got you by the balls. Not to mention that it would mean you’d confirm the relationship.
I don’t care about that, Marshall groaned. You’ve seen the pictures, right ?! I can’t let it happen. Y/N is going to be crushed. I can’t do this to her.
Look, I hate to say it but… at that point, the guy may be winning anyway. If you don’t reply, he might leak the pictures, but if you do, it proves he’s got the upper hand, Paul said. At least, if you don’t publicly come out, you can keep your dignity. You can even deny the relationship later on.
Shut up, Marshall said. I’m not doing this. If we don’t do something, her pictures are going to be out there for everyone to see. You’ve seen these, right ? How would you feel if it were your wife’s pictures ? Or your daughter’s, or your niece’s…?
Marshall… Y/N made her bed. She willingly took these photos and she was careless with them. My job is not to let that hurt you, your career or your reputation, Paul replied. I couldn’t care less about her tits or her pussy being out there.
You better shut the fuck up ! Marshall yelled. Last time I checked, I hired you and I’m your boss. So you better stick to the plan and do your job. You handle legal, I handle music. Understood ?! And I won’t have you shame Y/N.
Paul sighed and they got out of the kitchen, only to find you standing in the hallway. Paul greeted you curtly before going to his own office, as Marshall came to hug you.
Hey, he said. Didn’t hear you come in.
I got here a few minutes ago, you simply said.
Shit… Did you… Hear us ? He asked, embarrassed.
I did, you sighed. Paul…
Paul’s an ass, he simply said. But we’re handling it, alright ? That dickhead is going down. In every way possible.
Marshall… The first picture was leaked, you said.
I know, he replied. But this might actually give us leverage. Now we have proof he is ready to make good on his threat. I won’t let anything happen to you. You know that, right ? I’m going to destroy that son of a bitch.
You have my back, you squeed as you were reminded of your latest exchange with Simon.
Of course. You know I do, he said with a smile.
Suddenly, you were overwhelmed with emotion, adoration and gratitude. This man was really coming through for you. Without a second thought, you pressed your lips to his, brushing them gently. You hummed softly as you broke the embrace.
Oh my god, I’m sorry…, You whispered.
Come back here, he whispered back with a grin.
He pulled you closer as he captured your lips with his. The kiss was soft and sweet. You could feel the warmth of his lips against yours. You put a hand on the back of his neck as he gently grabbed your waist. Your chest was soon pressed against his, as the both of you leaned into the embrace. You put all the emotions of the last week into this kiss. It was the relief you didn’t know you needed. However, the moment was interrupted by the front door opening. He gently let go of you before anyone walked in.
I better go. Tons of things to do for that diss track. But I’ll definitely come to get some more of this when I’m done, he hummed as he gave you a soft peck on the lips.
You nodded shyly and the both of you went about your day. You settled in his office, a bit giddy over the kiss. You hadn’t planned on kissing him, it was a spur of the moment thing, but you were glad he kissed you back. In the afternoon, Paul came to see you.
Y/N. Do you have a minute ? He asked.
Sure, you replied politely.
So, seeing as the first picture was leaked, we will be able to press charges, he said. I have already gathered pieces of evidence and we are ready to send the rapper a cease and desist letter. A police officer will come in a short while to take a statement from you.
Alright. What about Cassie ? You asked. She might as well decide to leak them on her own, though.
Well, that’s another story, he sighed. I don’t doubt you but, simply speaking, we don’t have proof she is the one who gave him the pictures. We can’t really do much about this girl, except for hoping she doesn’t have a mass platform to leak the pictures.
Well, she has about… 15K followers, I think ? You said.
So it’s less significant than the millions of followers that dude has, he pointed out.
Yeah but people will still massively share the pictures if they leak, you replied.
I know, he said. But I can’t do much more. I’m sorry.
She’s the rapper’s cousin, you added.
I know.
Isn’t that sufficient proof ? You asked tentatively.
That’s not how it works, Y/N. But maybe I could do something if you could provide me with the email or messages in which you sent the pics ? Or if you have a text that proves that you asked her to delete them at some point ? He asked.
It was three years ago, Paul. I… I don’t have these anymore.
I’m sorry. Then I’m afraid I can’t do much.
Thank you anyway, you sighed. I know it’s not in your job description. And that you “couldn’t care less about my tits or my pussy being out there”. But I appreciate it.
He nodded politely and left the office. An hour later, two police officers came in to take your statement. You were definitely ashamed, especially since one of them, a man in his early sixties, couldn’t help but comment on how foolish you had to be to take nude pictures. Yet, you could clearly notice he stared at your body. You knew he had seen the photos. Was this how it was going to be ? Would all of your interactions be this awkward from now on ? Shortly after they left, Marshall came to see you.
How did it go ? He asked.
Well they took my statement, you said. So I think that’s what matters. Would’ve been nice if the guy had stared into my eyes instead of my tits, though…
Fucker, he sighed.
How about you ? You asked. How is work going ?
Just finished recording, he said with a smile. The guys are going to work on some arrangements and then, all I’ll have to do is post it at the right time.
Ok, you said softly.
Want to come hang out with us ? He offered. You’ve been here since morning, you haven’t even eaten.
Well, believe it or not, having strangers comment on your body doesn’t really encourage you to eat a lot, you said sheepishly. Apparently my thighs are too fat, or something like that…
Bullshit, he scoffed. You’re just too hot to handle for the haters.
He stroked your cheek and gently took your hand.
Come on, he said. I think the guys miss you.
Do they ? You mused.
Of course, he chuckled. We love having you around.
Sorry, you said. I’m not the best company lately…
That’s understandable, he said as he placed a strand of hair behind your ear.
You shrugged and started to walk towards the door but he pulled you in for a kiss. He was holding you gently yet firmly, both hands on your waist. You traced his shoulders as you kissed him back.
I was looking forward to this, he whispered with a smile that made you blush.
He stroked your cheek and let go of you before the two of you went and joined the others. They were, indeed, happy to see you and were excited to let you hear the first version of the track they recorded. It was really good, especially considering how little time they’d had to work on it. You liked everything about it, from the beats to the lyrics.
What do you think ? Royce asked.
It’s really good, you said. By the way, how do you know who… “wins” ?
It basically comes down to the puns and bars, Porter explained. In some cases, it’s kind of a tie, but here, it’s going to be obvious to everyone.
Speaking of bars… Was the mention of my black lingerie really necessary, guys ? You asked.
Em, you’re on your own on this one, Royce said with a grin before they all got up to go and smoke a cigarette.
Marshall nervously scratched the back of his neck.
I mean… It sort of rhymed with the whole thing, he said. But if it’s too much, I can totally change it.
Mmmh, you said. I don’t know. I mean, Paul was right. If you do that, you’re basically confirming the rumors… You do refer to me as your “girl”...
It’s me having your back, he shrugged. Plus, it’s a line. Nothing more, you know ? I made sure not to put the focus on you. In the track, I also refer to Kim as my wife, so… But again, if you don’t like it, I can come up with something else.
No, no, it’s fine, you said. You’re the lyricist. I think I’m just embarrassed about this whole situation, you know ?
Don’t be, he said. I know the whole thing is unnerving right now, but we’re ending the guy as soon as this drops. Along with other surprises.
Meaning ?
You’ll see, he grinned. I don’t want to jinx it. But if everything goes according to plan, this guy will be OVER. I can guarantee you.
When is the track dropping ? You asked.
Sunday night.
It seems so far away, you sighed. I don’t mean to rush anything, and I appreciate you coming through for me, I do… But I am scared that he’s going to pull something else until then, you know ?
Oh, believe me, he’ll be busy, he said with a smirk.
And he was right. For the next two days, nothing else happened on social media. Your picture was still very much online and the whole story was picked on by a few news outlets, but at least, no more pictures leaked. On Sunday night, Jamal and Talia invited Marshall for dinner, to celebrate your first week of being sober again.
I have something for you, he said with a smile when he greeted you.
Do you ? You asked with a grin. You know you’ve done enough for me lately, don’t you ?
I know, but a deal’s a deal, he said. Happy one week of sobriety, Y/N.
He handed you a bag that looked unassuming from the outside. When you peeked inside, you let out a little shrieking noise. It was his Saint Laurent jacket.
Oh my God, you’re the best ! You said as you hugged him. You were feeling like a child on Christmas Day.
You’re welcome, he said with a laugh. Take care of it, alright ? It’s one of my favorites.
For how long do I have custody of that glorious piece for ?
Is a month alright ? I have a photoshoot planned, he said. I’d like to wear it.
Deal, you chuckled. Thank you thank you thank you !!!
Talia and Jamal were looking at you with amused looks on their faces.
What’s that about ? Jamal asked.
Y/N’s been eyeing my jacket for a while, he shrugged. We actually have a deal : for each sobriety milestone, she gets to raid my closet.
That’s going to help rumors, Jamal pointed out sternly.
We’re in Detroit, Marshall said. There’s no paparazzi here. Besides, I don’t think the track is going to help matters. I don’t really care, to be honest. But yeah, maybe don’t take pictures in my clothes, Y/N.
That’s fine, you said with a smile. We don’t want the world to see that I wear them better anyway, now, do we ?
Speaking of your clothes, Em, I think I washed some of them the other day, Talia said.
Oh, yeah, you said. The clothes you let me borrow last time. They’re in my room. I’ll go and get them. That way, I can put this beauty in my closet.
I’ll come with you, Marshall replied.
The two of you went upstairs. As soon as you entered your room, Marshall closed the door and pulled you in for a kiss, taking you by surprise.
Sorry, he chuckled. Had to say hello properly.
Hey there, you giggled. I like this.
Me too, he chuckled.
You put the jacket in your closet and gave him the clothes he had let you borrow the last time you were at his place, along with the merch tee-shirt.
Thanks for the clothes, you said softly.
I must admit I like you in my stuff, he said. You make it really sexy, you know ?
Do I ? You mused as you blushed.
Absolutely. And if it were just the two of us here… I would gladly show you how sexy I think you are today, he whispered in your ear.
His words had you turning crimson red. That was new. In the past, he had made a point to remind you that nothing was to happen between the two of you. Yet, he had returned your kiss two days ago when you kissed him, and he seemed pretty intent on doing it again, not that you had anything against it, on the contrary. However, this left you with a lot of questions. Unfortunately though, you were too much of a coward to ask them.
Are you alright there ? He asked.
Yes, you said shyly. I… Would like that, actually.
Good to know, he said as he kissed you again.
As the kiss deepened, you wrapped your arms around his neck while he gently squeezed your ass.
You drive me crazy, he whispered in your ear. You’re irresistible.
Is that so ? You grinned.
You have no fucking idea what you do to me, Y/N, he groaned.
Tell me, you whispered in between kisses.
I’ll show you, he grinned as he pulled you closer to him, making sure you could feel how hard he was.
I want you, you whimpered.
Not yet, he whispered in your ear. We’ll go for a drive after dinner, ok ?
You reluctantly let go of him. His words were promising and you weren’t too sure how you could be expected to wait. He winked at you and you both made your way downstairs and got settled for dinner. Marshall was constantly checking his phone, which was a bit unusual for him. After what seemed to be the thousandth time, he let out a victory smile.
Guys… This motherfucker is officially done, he declared proudly.
Dropped the track yet ? Jamal asked between bites or dessert.
Better. I got his label to drop him. And a promise from a bunch of others not to sign him, he said with a grin.
You didn’t ?! Talia exclaimed.
Oh, I definitely did, Marshall said. Track is dropping later tonight, and he already received a small surprise today.
You really went all out, you said.
Had to put this motherfucker back in his place, he shrugged. I’m sick of bastards coming for the people in my life. And this one was way out of line.
Dinner came to an end and Marshall convinced Talia to let you go with him for a drive. She lectured him and made him promise to bring you home before midnight but let you go eventually, as a present for remaining sober for a week. He drove you to the exact same spot you went to when you took the Aston Martin for a drive. As soon as the car was parked, he was all over you. You ended up in the backseat of the Escalade, making out while exploring each other’s body.
You’re so beautiful, he whispered in your ear.
I want you, you whimpered.
So soon ? He chuckled.
Please.
Anything for you, baby, he said as he kissed you.
The pet name made you giggle, but you soon let out a moan as he sucked on your neck while helping you undress. The sensation of his hands against your skin was delicious and you couldn’t get enough. Every inch of your body was craving for his touch and he seemed happy to oblige. You helped him undress as well and he kissed you hungrily before putting on a condom. He had you lay down in the backseat and looked in your eyes as he positioned himself at your entrance.
I want you so bad, he said.
Show me, then, you teased.
Before you knew it, he was inside of you, causing you to gasp at how big he felt.
You feel so good, he groaned.
You feel so good.
He grinned and started rocking his hips. Your nails were scratching his back while his fingers were digging in your waist. His mouth found your neck again and he let out a chuckle as he found out how easy it was to reduce you to a moaning mess by simply sucking on that sweet spot.
You like that, baby ?
Yes, you whined. Yes, yes, yes …
I could mark you up, you know, he whispered. That way, everyone would know you’re mine…
I want to be yours, you whimpered.
This prompted him to pick up the pace and, soon enough, he was slamming into you. You had to prevent yourself from making too much noise and started biting his shoulder.
Oh my god, you moaned. I think I’m going to come.
You think ? He teased as he thrusted even deeper. Or are you sure ?
I’m sure. Oh God, you cried as you dug your nails deeper into his skin.
I’m not done with you yet, he chuckled before getting out.
The sensation of hollowness was almost painful. You were desperate for him, longing to feel him again.
Get on top, he ordered as he proceeded to sit.
You did as he said and straddled, whimpering as he entered you again.
Take all of it, he whispered.
It’s too much, you whined.
You can do it, he said softly. You’re doing so good.
He gently teased your nipples with his hands and mouth as you were slowly grinding on him. He moaned as your movements became more frantic. The position allowed you to feel all of him and it soon became overwhelming, your thighs starting to become sore. You groaned in frustration.
Don’t slow down, he ordered. Keep going, baby. I’m so close…
I can’t, you whispered. Help me, please.
I got you.
He firmly grabbed your ass and started pumping. He was thrusting hard as you let your head fall back. After a moment, you found it in yourself to go again and your hips moved in sync. The sensations were exquisite and you felt closer than ever to your climax.
Oh God, you moaned.
Come for me, baby, he said gently.
But… you ? You cried.
I’m right there, he moaned.
You were euphoric as you felt waves of pleasure washing over the two of you. You could feel him twitch inside of you as he came and you couldn’t contain your own juices from spilling.
Oh shit, you said as you collapsed on top of him.
He chuckled before closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around your body. You could feel both of your hearts pounding, as you were chest to chest, and his breath in your neck. You were shuddering.
You’re incredible, he whispered in your ear.
You’re amazing, you said, still in a haze.
Here, take this, he said as he grabbed his jacket and placed it over your shoulder so that you wouldn’t be cold.
You stayed in this position for a while, neither of you really wanting to move. You nuzzled his neck as he played with your hair and stroked your back. You were about to fall asleep when he gently shook your shoulder.
Hey, beautiful, he said. Let’s get dressed. Otherwise we’re both going to fall asleep.
We can sleep here, you shrugged. I don’t care.
Talia will kill us if I bring you home one minute late, he pointed out.
Mmmmh, you groaned before burying your face deeper in his neck.
Come on, he chuckled.
You unenthusiastically got off him. He kissed you gently before grabbing some tissues for the both of you to get cleaned up. You got dressed and he disposed of the tissues and condom before getting back in the driver’s seat. He was groaning when you sat back in the passenger seat next to him.
Next time, we’re doing this in bed, he chuckled. My back is killing me.
Next time ? You couldn’t help but ask.
He turned to you and smiled softly.
Well, yeah, he said. Unless you don’t want to ?
Oh, no, I want to ! You said. It’s just… I thought that you… didn’t ?
I know, he said as he scratched his beard. I said a bunch of stuff, but… There’s just something about the way you draw me in. You drive me absolutely crazy, Y/N. There’s something between the two of us and I just can’t deny it’s there, you know ? When you kissed me the other day, something sort of shifted, it was… it felt kind of right, you know what I’m saying ?
You nodded shyly. It was exactly how you felt, and him saying he felt the same was a relief.
I care about you, he continued. I think you’re absolutely incredible and I really like our relationship. And I also really enjoy kissing you and the naughtier stuff, too. So… I guess what I'm really saying is that, if you’re up for it, maybe we could… Hang out a little more ?
He sounded almost shy and it was the most adorable thing ever.
I’d like that very much, you said with a smile.
Good.
You stared at each other and chuckled.
Now, he said a little more seriously, because I care about you, I think we should make things clear, ok ? What I said last time still sort of stands. You’re still in recovery, and that should come first. And most of all, I want us to be friends before being anything else. If being more doesn’t work out, I want us to still be friends. You mean so much to me, I don’t want to lose you.
Ok, you nodded.
Just because you have me wrapped around your pretty little finger doesn’t mean I’m not serious about that, ok ?
You nodded again and smiled shyly.
Good. Now I’ll take you home, he said with a smile.
Do you really have to ? You said as you batted your eyelashes.
Yeah. First of all, Talia is scaring the shit out of me and I don’t want to end on her bad side, he said with a smile. Also, you’ve had quite a week and you should rest.
Fine, you groaned.
He took you home and you spent a few minutes making out in the car before you had to leave. You were interrupted by the constant buzzing of your phone. It was an unknown caller and you decided not to answer. You resumed the kiss but were interrupted again. You sighed and decided to take the call.
Hello ?
You fucking bitch !!! You heard Cassie yell on the phone.
Cassie ?! You asked in disbelief, not believing that she would actually have the nerve to call you.
I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ACTUALLY PULLED THAT OFF. First you send Talia and your boyfriend after me ?! And now my cousin gets jumped at his apartment by dudes with guns ?! Who do you think you are ? She yelled.
First of all, I never sent anyone anywhere, you said curtly. Second, you are the one who got him to drop that track, aren’t you ? You’re the one who leaked my pictures !
Only because you sent Talia and Em to my hotel room to threaten me !!! You need to tell Em to back off, Y/N. This is too serious.
There was only Talia, you said. And I didn’t send her there. You two have your beef, do not make me a part of this, Cassie.
I swear he was there, Y/N ! He threatened me, she swore. So yeah, I told my cousin to add a reference to you in the diss - which was coming anyway - and I decided to use the pictures as leverage. But I only leaked the first one. I wouldn’t have leaked the others !!! We just wanted Em to answer, for publicity. But now, my cousin is in the hospital. Tell him to back off, or I swear I will end you !!!
You shot a glance at Marshall, who could clearly hear the exchange, as the two of you were seated side to side in the car. At first, you thought Cassie was lying. But the distress in her voice and Marshall’s ashamed look told you otherwise.
Let me call you back, you told Cassie. We will clarify the situation like adults. I swear I had no idea, ok ?
Whatever. I want proof Em’s backing off before tomorrow, she said before hanging up.
You stared at Marshall. His mouth was agape and you could see fear in his eyes. Like someone who knows they are in trouble.
Please tell me that’s not true, you said.
Y/N, he said, I’m sorry.
What part are you sorry for, exactly ?
I…- he began.
What’s up, Mr Lyricist. You don’t have words, all a sudden ? Let me help you. What. Are. You. Sorry. For ? Is it for the part where you lied to me about going to visit Cassie with Talia ? For the part where you threatened her ? For the part where you sent armed men to another rapper’s apartment ?! You asked with anger.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, he tried to explain.
I can’t believe you, you said as you left the car.
You walked through the driveway and made your way to the house as he followed you.
Y/N, I did that for you !!! Marshall pleaded.
For me ?! You asked with a sarcastic laugh. That’s rich. I didn’t ask for shit, Marshall.
I went and confronted Cassie with Talia because I couldn't stand to see you sad. I saw how distraught you were about those pictures. I had to do something, he said with sadness in his eyes. It drove me crazy to have this dude come for you.
Is that why you acted like a fucking thug ?!
I swear it wasn’t supposed to happen this way, he tentatively explained. They were just supposed to scare him. They didn’t mention shit about guns and they most definitely weren’t supposed to hurt him.
I can’t believe it, you said. I’m going to be sick.
You have to believe me, he pleaded. I only did that to protect you. Because I have your back. I only thought about you.
No you don’t. Guys like you… They don’t have anyone’s back except theirs, you said as you thought about Simon’s words. If you had my back, none of this would have happened. If you truly had my back, you would have put a statement right after the pictures came out. That would have actually protected me. But you only thought about yourself. All of this… It makes you look good, in the end. You eliminate concurrence, you get some press coverage out of it, you get the crowd hyped and ready for your next album and you even have people thinking you have a girlfriend so that they leave you alone on the subject. It’s a win-win situation for you, Em.
Don’t think that, he said with tears in his eyes. I was trying to save your reputation…
My reputation or yours ?! You yelled. My reputation was fine before I was publicly associated with you. No one dragged me in the dirt. No one mentioned my name on stupid diss tracks. No one tried to leak my nude pictures before. It’s all because of you, Em.
I swear to God, Y/N, if you call me Em one more time, he groaned.
What are you going to do ?! You asked with a manic laughter. Tell me, Em, because I am dying to hear it.
You do not want to see me get angry, he said as he closed his eyes.
What are you going to do, huh ? You asked as you got closer to him. Are you going to go all thug on me ? Are you going to have me held at gunpoint ? Or are you going to do whatever it is that you did to your ex or any woman you slept with ?
Do not mention that, Y/N, he warned as his eyes got darker.
Should I expect a diss track ? Are you going to rap about killing me ? You asked with anger. Or are you going to punch me ?
Go to hell, you ungrateful bitch, he spat. You think you’re respectable ? You are nothing but a whore and a junkie. I should have left you at that party, to get fucked by whoever was there. Hell, maybe it would have been better if you had overdosed on pills before we met.
You stood still, staring at each other in silence, taking in the words that were said. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you felt nothing but anger and sadness. All the affection and desire you had ever felt for him was replaced by hatred and disdain. At that point, it was clear that anything the two of you might have meant to each other was thrown to the fire.
I thought you were the best thing that ever happened to me, Marshall, you said almost whispering. But in the end, you are the worst. I wish I had never met you.
With these words, you turned around and entered the house, ready to confront Talia.
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Fear of Falling [Emily x Reader]
Photo credits: Center (@chanelmonamour) Left and Right (@foxy-eva)
Prompt: Emily and the non-BAU reader meet each other due to a game of truth or dare that does not turn out how either of them expected.
Pairing: Emily x female reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Comfort/fluff/smut
Word Count: 13.3K
A/N: Hi, loves! First off this story is 18+ Minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content warnings are below the cut. I hope you had a fun and relaxed Christmas/Holiday season. The lovely @shqtteredcrystql1 requested a fic with a reader who had never dated a woman before and is not very experienced with intimacy. I loved this idea and jumped on it, and it grew from there. It seems I’m not able to write anything short anymore. I also included a lot of “pick your own” options, but you can just jump into the story and go back when you get to one of those options. If you like this, I might write a second part. Lastly, my requests are open. If you'd like to submit a request/idea, please see this post, CM Request Post (linked) With all that being said, I hope you all like this, it was so fun to write! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Love Levi -❤️
Content Warnings: Drinking [reader and Emily], unwanted physical touch, mention of workplace harassment, sex [oral, fem receiving (reader)]. If I missed any, please let me know.
List with all stories
_y/n_ = your name
_y/c/h_ = your color hair
_y/f/c/l_ = your favorite color lipstick
_y/f/b/o/b_ = your favorite brand of bag
_y/f/s_ = your favorite scent
_y/j_ = your job
_y/h/t_ = your home town
_y/f/c_ = your favorite color
_i/s/p/h_ = insert special person here (mom/dad/guardian/friend/mentor etc.)
_y/e/w/m/b_ = your experience with men before (if you don’t have any, then say that)
_w/y/d/w/ys_= what you’ve done with yourself before
The tap on _y/n_’s shoulder surprised her. _y/n_ was so absorbed in her own thoughts that the physical contact had her whip her head to the right. _y/n_ didn’t expect to see a very pretty, keen-eyed woman who was sporting a rather bashful smile on such a pretty face. Any annoyance _y/n_ had felt at being disturbed melted away and she relaxed as little. _y/n_ said, “Sorry, you scared me. Is there something I can do for you?” The woman flushed and replied, “Don’t be sorry. I should have said something before. I just wanted to give you this.” The woman handed her a small piece of paper that was folded into fours. Before _y/n_ could even ask the tall brunette her name, the woman was walking with a determined pace back toward the group she had come in with. With incredulity, _y/n_ opened the note. There were just a few words scribbled in semi-sloppy penmanship saying, “Emily Prentiss 512 - 198 - 4459. Call me if you’re interested/open.” The simple note had _y/n_’s head whip up once more and looked at Emily’s retreating figure. _y/n_ had noticed Miss Prentiss when she walked into the bar. _y/n_ thought, “I mean, how couldn’t you notice her? She’s the prettiest person in this joint.” _y/n_ had tried to not gawk for about ten minutes until she got a text that had soured her whole mood. Had pulled her mind away from the beautiful woman sitting at a table full of friends and laughter, unlike her own. Now _y/n_’s mind was fully back on Emily. Looking at Emily’s beautiful figure, _y/n_ thought that there was no way that someone so lovely would be marginally interested in her. Just as _y/n_ felt a spark of excitement, and hope after a very long week, it was snuffed out immediately when Emily got back to her table and a chorus of laughter erupted from her friends. _y/n_ didn’t see Prentiss’s face as she sat back down, or how flushed she was. All _y/n_ could interpret from that interaction was that she had, yet again, been the butt of someone else’s joke. _y/n_’s inner voice said, “What, you’re surprised? This isn’t new, _y/n_. Get a grip. It’s just the first time this has happened with a woman.” And though it was cruel, it was true. _y/n_ had been let down by lots of men before, but she had started to question if men were something she was even interested in. Not that she had much physical experience with men to begin with, but even with that being the case, _y/n_ had started to be drawn to women more. Those types of thoughts had always lingered in her mind, even since childhood, but she had suppressed them. Thinking, “That can’t be me. I must be making it up.” But the more, _y/n_ interrogated those thoughts, the more she realized she had feelings for women were just as strong, if not stronger as those she held for men. What this all meant, _y/n_ wasn’t sure, but her encounter with Emily did have her feeling very good about her chances. The bartender was perceptive to _y/n’s disappointment and asked, “You look like you need another drink, sweetie. What can I get you?” _y/n_ looked at him with half-blurred eyes from tears and said, “The strongest, cheapest thing you’ve got. Keep ‘em coming.”
While this was all transpiring, Emily was blushing like a mad woman. The young lady who she had given her number to was pretty. There was a look about her, a sort of glow that permeated the space she sat near. If she wasn’t with Derek, Spencer, JJ, and Garcia, Emily would have happily planted herself next to the woman and basked in her glow for hours. But Prentiss, for heaven’s knows why, had agreed to play truth or dare with the members of the team. It was the moment that Derek had suggested the game that Aaron and Rossi agreed it was time for them to head out. Once their superiors were gone. Morgan smiled and said, “Alright, we draw straws to see who gets to ask the first question. Remember, you get to pick truth or dare, but once you’ve chosen, you’re locked into that choice.” Everyone nodded in agreement. Penelope had drawn the short straw which let her ask the first question. The questions and dares had started simple like asking about small embarrassing stories or minor challenges for the dares, but as the drinks flowed, the conversation had gotten more personal. There had been two rounds with Emily picking dare each time, and she wasn’t planning on stopping now. As much as she loved her friends, the team didn’t need to her about her sex life or dating woes. Revealing any of those details would only expose how lonely she had been for the last four months. So when it came down to her turn again, with JJ asking the question, Emily happily said, “Dare.” JJ had been expecting this and planned her dare well, saying, “Give your phone number to the most attractive person in this bar right now.” Emily’s eyes widened at the challenge. It was the best one yet. Derek doing push-ups in the corner was not nearly as interesting as making Emily pick the most attractive person in a bar. Emily shot JJ a small look. Just last week she and the empathetic media liaison had been talking about dating and JJ’s upcoming engagement party. Emily had revealed to JJ that she hadn’t even tried seeing anyone for months. That she’d slightly given up on the dating scene. JJ’s dare was a soft push to try again. The glow from the woman at the bar had drawn Emily’s attention again, and Prentiss pulled out a small notepad, tore out a page, and wrote a quick message. Emily had never had success with giving her number to people, but heck, she didn’t see how it could hurt now. The interaction with the stranger was quick, but whoever she had given her number to, was so beautiful with her _y/c/h_ and _y/f/c_ lipstick. Even though it was less than a minute-long interaction, Emily felt like some of the stranger's warmth had rubbed off on her. As Emily made it back to the table, the group cheered her on. Little did they know, their claps and laughter were having such a negative effect on the woman sitting at the bar and looking at Emily’s turned back with a deep sense of longing.
A half-hour later, the BAU members had sobered up considerably and planned on heading out. As they all got out of their chairs, Derek looked over to the bar and said to Emily, “You might want to reconsider accepting messages for that girl you gave your number to.” Prentiss quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Before she could ask, Derek took her shoulder and turned her one-eighty degrees to face the bar. It took a microsecond for Emily to see the aforementioned woman at the bar laughing at some guy's joke. As Emily looked closer, the man had his large splotchy hand on the small of the woman’s back. Worse still the guy started slipping his hand under the back of the woman’s shirt. That was enough for Emily to want to step in. Something, be it intuition or personal experience, told Prentiss that if this lovely woman was sober, she’d have told the guy invading her privacy off minutes ago. As Emily stepped forward, Garcia asked, “Do you want me to wait for you?” Prentiss nodded her head no and said, “I’ll take an Uber back. Thanks for picking me up, Penelope.” Garcia smiled and said, “Of course baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emily nodded and turned, but Penelope stopped her once more by saying, “And Emily, don’t bite his head off. I don’t think Hotch would appreciate that.” Prentiss gave her friend a small, reassuring smile before turning on her heel and moving quickly to the bar.
Once Emily had reached the bar, she stepped between the man and the woman. Before the man could protest, Emily said, “Hey sis. Sorry, I lost you. Collin talked my ear off at the restaurant. You should have called me and told me you moved to a bar. I would have joined you a half-hour ago.” Emily mentally crossed every part of her body that could be crossed, and some parts that couldn’t, that her ploy would work on the man breathing heavily behind her. There was a tense minute before the man slipped away and back to the upstairs section of the bar. When the creep had gone, the woman turned her head toward Emily. Her cheeks were severely flushed and the woman said, “Good job, you had your laugh and white knighted. You can leave me alone in my misery now.” Emily’s brow furrowed a bit at the comment. She got the “White Knight” bit; she had swooped in like some kind of savior, but Prentiss didn’t like the way that guy had been touching the inebriated woman in front of her. But the bit that she didn’t understand was the laughing bit. Emily hadn’t laughed at the woman. The added comment about misery had Prentiss look at the woman more closely. _y/n_ kept Emily’s gaze. She might be upset, but that didn’t mean she was going to miss out on looking at someone as radiant as Emily. Even if she’d made fun of her, Emily was still brilliant. _y/n_ reasoned, “When am I going to get to see someone so pretty again? Might as well enjoy it.” The fact that _y/n_ was drunk was also helping.
While the yet unnamed woman looked at Emily, the profiler took a closer look at her face. It seemed the cheerful facade from a few minutes earlier had slid off like bad veneers. The woman did look miserable. As Emily looked at her, she could see the apathy in the woman’s eyes. The dark circles from lack of sleep or stress. Prentiss asked, “Why did you say I was laughing at you? Is that what’s making you so sad?” Emily felt an odd desire to comfort the woman in front of her. To understand where the look of resigned desperation was coming from. _y/n_ sniffled and said, “Well you know. Go up to someone, get their hopes up, make them think that they’re something, and then go back to the table with your friends and have a big old laugh about it. Like ‘Hahaha Good one, Emily, I bet she bought that. Like I’d touch that with a ten-foot pole.’” _y/n_ was crying now, feeling re-humiliated.
As Emily heard the story of JJ’s dare from the woman’s perspective, her face fell. She hadn’t meant her giving her number to come off as some kind of cruel prank, and Emily said, “Hey, …. Um, what’s your name?” _y/n_ murmured, “_y/n_,” into a napkin, as she wiped at her nose which was now unbecomingly dripping due to the crying. Emily placed a hand on _y/n_’s shoulder and said, “_y/n_. I am so, so sorry if me and my friends' actions felt like we were mocking you. Treating you like a game.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, and with a sharpness in her voice, she said, “Well what was it then? Because it certainly felt like one to me.” Emily wondered how to phrase her next response. She felt horrible for making _y/n_ feel this way. In all honestly, Prentiss thought about lying and saying that her friends had just made a joke when she got back to the table, and everyone had laughed at the right time. _y/n_ was drunk enough that she wouldn’t remember the lie in the morning. But Emily didn’t believe in starting relationships, even friendships based on a lie. Emily took a deep breath and said, “Let me tell you what happened, please?” _y/n_ nodded that she was listening, even as her face still burned in shame.
Emily swallowed once before saying, “My friends and I were pretty tipsy already. We decided to play truth or dare.” This had _y/n_ freeze, because it fucking confirmed that it had been a game. Emily continued anyway. “I’d been going on all night about being lonely and crap and then you walked in, and I kind of stopped talking. I was just captivated by you.” Prentiss remembered how Spencer had had to tap her to get her attention away from _y/n_. Derek had teased her, “Someone caught your eye, Em?” To which she had blushed furiously. Derek then said, “You should give her your number you know.” That was where JJ had gotten the idea for her next dare from. Emily blinked and said, “Well my friends had seen how I’d reacted to your very presence, and my friend dared me to give my number to the the most attractive person in the room. And that was you. I swear that my friends didn’t mean it as a joke. I didn’t mean it as a joke. You are the most pretty person in his building, on the block, in the whole city, I swear.” _y/n_ looked up at Emily, eyes, still red, and asked, “Then why did they laugh when you got back?” As _y/n_ reflected, given the new context, perhaps she had been overthinking again. But that didn’t explain the laughter.
Prentiss sighed and said, “I have a bit of a tough guy reputation at work. It’s unusual for me to be so nervous about something. That’s why they laughed.” A hint of understanding came to _y/n_’s eyes and she said, “Why would you be interested in me? I’m nobody special.” Emily patted _y/n_’s hand and replied, “_y/n_, I know I don’t know you at all, but you’re certainly not a nobody. I think you’re far from nobody.” _y/n_ blinked back fresh tears and said, “Well you’re the first person to see me like that in a long time. I’m sorry I’m so emotional. This is so embarrassing. I think I’ll go home.” _y/n_ really felt like getting under her heavy covers and sleeping for two months, hoping to wake up and have her whole life changed, and particularly to forget tonight.
Emily nodded, getting out of her chair to make room for _y/n_. Prentiss wasn’t sure _y/n_ had really sobered up enough to drive or even call a cab, so she was going to ensure that _y/n_ got back home, wherever that was, safe. Once _y/n_’s feet hit the ground, she listed forward. Emily could immediately tell that _y/n_ would need help getting home and said, “_y/n_, let me call you an Uber or a Lyft. You shouldn’t be trying to drive after, well, after tonight I think.” _y/n_ brushed Prentiss off and said, “I just live two blocks down. I didn’t drive here. I’ll be fine.” The false cheeriness was back and this didn’t make Emily feel any better. The agent replied, “Well, it’s good to hear that you’re not driving, but can I walk you back to your place? Just to your front door.” Emily knew this wasn’t like her, but she wouldn’t just let _y/n_ walk out of the bar while she was still pretty sloshed. Furthermore, Emily still felt bad about the dare. The unintended impact it had had on _y/n_ seemed to weigh Prentiss down. After a moment, _y/n_ nodded and slurred, “Yeah, sure.” Emily let out a small breath of relief. The pair moved out of the bar, and _y/n_ led the way on unshakey feet. Emily ended up having to keep _y/n_ up a few times, as they walked down the two blocks. As _y/n_ took a left at a red light, the luxury houses came into view. Prentiss knew the area was rich, but not that rich. Emily looked over at _y/n_ and gently, trying to be sensitive, asked “Are you sure this is where you live?” _y/_ scoffed and said, “Listen, I’m no Daisy Buchannan, alright. One of the older ladies who lives in the neighborhood had a mother-in-law suite that she never uses. She rents it out. I was lucky enough to find the advertisement before anyone else. I don’t think she understands inflation. I barely pay anything for it. I do help her with her yard when she asks me to make up for it. I get lucky because I could never afford it at full price.” After that, there was a soft silence as they walked one more block. Emily assumed the drinks had _y/n_ speaking so candidly. It wasn’t something Prentiss would do with a stranger. Even a hot one. At the end of the street _y/n_ stopped at a little gate that had an old-looking lock on the side. Emily watched as _y/n_ fished through her bag and produced a set of keys that jingled like a bell as _y/n_ attempted to find the right one. When _y/n_ had, she shakily put it in the lock, but her fingers trembled and she dropped the keys into a small dirty puddle on the red brick sidewalk. This happened once more before Emily stepped in and unlocked the gate for _y/n_. Prentiss put her hand on the small of _y/n_’s back and led her over the uneven stone path that went to a very small house that was in the shadow of a huge art deco style mansion. Suddenly the reference to The Great Gatsby made sense. _y/n_ didn’t even try for the two locks on her door. Instead, she found the right key and handed it to Emily to unlock. The brunette easily opened the door and helped _y/n_ to the couch in the space. She turned on the lamp on a small table. With the cozy space illuminated by the soft lamplight, Emily moved back to the couch and asked, “Do you have everything? Your ID, wallet, cell phone, or anything else important?” _y/n_ pulled her _y/f/b/o/b_ into her lap and rifled through it again. When _y/n_ pulled out all of the things Emily had said, there was awkward silence which Emily broke by saying, “I’m gonna head out now. I’m sorry again for tonight.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as the tall woman quickly left the room like this was the most normal thing that had happened to her this week. _y/n_ sighed in resignation and just sat for a few minutes once Prentiss was gone.
When _y/n_ had composed herself, she moved to her bedroom, stripped, and moved to the bathroom to take a hot shower. As _y/n_ stepped under the shower head and lathered _y/f/s_ed soap over her body, she reflected on how the night had gone. Embarrassingly. Almost as embarrassing as when she’d been invited to a fraternity dance and then found out the day that her date had asked someone else behind her back. It had been humiliating. This night had been the same, except on this occasion, it had been her fault as she had partially misinterpreted the situation. Not that the situation was totally easy to understand, but still, it was awkward. When _y/n_ had taken off her tweed pants, Emiy’s phone number fell out of the pocket. _y/n_ had considered crumpling it up and throwing it in the trash, but her heart had told her to keep it in case she ever got the nerve to text Emily. Given how the night had gone, she doubted it would ever happen. But despite her negative attitude, _y/n_ folded the phone number in two and put it in the top drawer of her bedside table. As _y/n_ finished her shower, she hoped she would wake up feeling better or having forgotten the whole evening. Once the shower was over, _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas, and slumped onto the bed and under the covers. She turned off the light and quickly fell asleep.
Unfortunately, in the morning, neither of her wishes had come true. Her head pounded from a hangover, and _y/n_ remembered the whole fiasco with Emily too. _y/n_ groaned and got up. She stumbled to the bathroom and drowned a glass of tap water and two aspirin. She’d overslept and she would need to rush to get to work on time. _y/n_ just barely made it to _y/j_. This had been happening more and more often recently. At the beginning of the year, _y/n_ had finally landed a job that she was excited about. But as it turned out with most things that seemed too good to be true, the job had ended up being more of a pain. There was a high turnover rate, and _y/n_ ended up taking on projects and work that weren’t under her purview. Because of this, her performance plummeted due to not being trained on her new tasks. And another problem had come up as well. Her manager, who had seemed cool and understanding in her three interviews had turned out to be more of a bother than a help. He had started making small comments about her appearance, and then he’d started offering to take her out to dinner or drinks, and he’d become more and more insistent about getting to know her better outside of work hours. Things hadn’t escalated too far. That was until the previous day. The older man had called her into a private meeting and threatened to cut her pay if her performance didn’t improve. And he’d personally told her he would train her on the things that she didn’t know, but only if she’d go with him to drinks that weekend. _y/n_ had wrestled all day with whether to contact HR about the man’s unwanted advances. Now that things had escalated to threats it seemed justified. However, she was so new to the job, and HR and everyone seemed to love her boss. That had led to a personal crisis, thus the night of drinking at the bar. As _y/n_ reflected, she steeled herself for the day and just decided for the moment to deal with it. To do her job, ignore everything and everyone, and solely work. _y/n_’s bosses harassment and threats, along with _y/n_’s avoidant behavior went on for another week. The man remained relentless. That afternoon he had even touched _y/n_. His hand trailed it down to her lower back. The sensation made _y/n_ want to scream. The tension built for the week and _y/n_ let everything in her personal life fall apart, including her house.
That Friday she had a panic attack in the bathroom and decided enough was enough. She went to HR and told them about what had been happening. About her discomfort and the growing threats. _y/n_nwas eternally grateful to be taken seriously and the personnel team took her statement and promised to look into the matter discreetly. When _y/n_ got home that day, she decided it was finally time to clear up the mess she’d left behind. It took a good four hours with her bedroom being the last thing she decluttered, swept, and put back together. The top drawer of her nightstand had accumulated lots of junk and receipts, and _y/n_ quickly moved to throw them in the small trashcan by her bed. However, a folded slip of paper made it out of her hands and fluttered to the floor. _y/n_ sighed as she threw away the rubbish and bent down to grab the last piece of trash to get rid of it. _y/n_ didn’t recognize it and unfolded it. It was Emily’s note from a few weeks back. The instant _y/n_ saw the neat handwriting, Emily’s bright face flashed into her vision. Prentiss’s dark eyes and the way she spoke with a confidence _y/n_ lacked. The beautiful woman’s image seemed burned into _y/n_’s mind. Of course, she remembered the embarrassing parts of the evening as well, but something about Emily Prentiss had engrained itself in _y/n_’s head. _y/n_ held the paper in her palm and sighed. She moved to the kitchen and started cooking a simple meal. She sipped on a glass of wine and pondered if it was too late to text the woman back. _y/n_ realized that she’d never get Emily out of her mind unless she did something about it. _y/n_ pulled up her phone. She started a new message and input Emily’s number. _y/n_ tapped the counter before finally texting:
Hey, Emily. This is _y/n_ from that bar on 6th Street. I’m really sorry if I made the end of your evening awkward or if you had other plans. You were nice to me, and I want to thank you for that. I hope you're having a good start to your weekend. - _y/n_.
With that, _y/n_ hit the send button and then promptly moved her phone into her bedroom, not wanting to see if she got a response. Instead, she moved back to the kitchen, stirred her two pans with a wooden spatula, and metaphorically patted herself on the back. She’d done a brave thing, which for _y/n_ was not something that came easy to her. In fact, over the last few weeks, she’d been finding herself doing more and more brave things, and this was the latest of them. _y/n_ didn’t particularly like change, confrontation, or anything that would have made her stand out in any way. _y/n_ hadn’t always felt good about herself, and adding a spotlight to her actions was the last thing she wanted. But moving to D.C. from _y/h/t_ had been a change she had hoped would push her out of her comfort zone. It might have taken about eleven months, but _y/n_ was finally beginning to think, that maybe, it was happening. After dinner and some light reading, _y/n_ moved to her room. It was a bit early for her to go to bed, but she felt the call of the mattress. _y/n_ slipped into her pajamas and moved under the covers. Before going to bed, _y/n_ grabbed her phone to set an alarm. She’d sleep in, but she didn’t want to waste the whole next day in bed. As her phone blinked on. There was a text from a number she didn’t know. With her heart skipping a beat, _y/n_ unlocked her phone and opened her messages. There was a simple reply to her previous text to Emily. It read: “Hey, _y/n_. It’s good to hear from you. Unfortunately, work has me busy and out of town, but I hope you’re doing well and feeling okay. Keep your head up. Emily.” Although the text was short and simple and didn’t quite open the dialog for further conversation, that hadn’t exactly been _y/n_’s goal. The goal was doing the hard thing, and it had been done and there had been a nice reply as a cherry on top. So, with that, _y/n_ set her alarms and went to sleep contented.
Emily looked down at the hard ice under her. It was glossy. So glossy that she could see her reflection almost. The sound of the other skaters' laughter and skates against the ice made her sigh. The ice had just been smoothed by the Zamboni. Emily had known it was a bad idea to go out on the ice when it was so slick. However, she had waited a whole half-hour for Benette from Hinge to show up. He had seemed nice, He had blue eyes and a kind smile. One that seemed normal enough to be someone real and not a catfish. They had texted for two weeks and spoken on the phone once before he’d offered to take her on a date to the ice skating rink. The idea had been a new one to her. Most of the people who she went out with on-first-but-never-second-dates, took her to bars or dinner. The prospect of not drinking or eating had been refreshing, and Benette had been original, which put him on the plus side of things. However, the fact that he was so late began to irk Prentiss. When the half-hour mark came and went, Emily gave up on the man in private equity, rented her skates herself, and ventured out on the ice. She was already here, why not take a lap or two? She had only made it halfway around the rink before she ate it. The ice against her legs reminded Emily that she wasn’t sixteen anymore. She was sure there would be a bruise on her hips in the morning. And when she got to work on Monday, Derek would ask why she was limping and she’d have to explain. Then Morgan would laugh and gently tease her about being a geriatric, and by that point, she would have forgotten how her second date in a row had stood her up. Emily rested her hand on the frozen water before getting ready to get up onto unstable, cold, wet, legs. Before she had a chance, a skater, who had been moving quite quickly over the ice stopped neatly in front of her. There was a pair of white skates and _y/f/c_ leg warmers.
After a second, Emily looked up to see who exactly was offering her a hand up. From the attire, she highly doubted it was Benette unless he had a very big secret to tell her. But when Emily’s eyes settled on the person in front of her, she recognized the face. It took a second before she realized she knew that face. At this point, Emily was back on her feet thanks to the hand up, and only then did she say, “Hey _y/n_. Fancy seeing you here.” At this point, she was blushing and slightly embarrassed. _y/n_ smiled at her and said, “Hey, Emily. I never really expected to see you again. Are you alright? That looked like a nasty fall.” _y/n_’s comment only had Prentiss blush further, and she said, “Oh, well, you know, I’ll probably be sore for a week, but nothing’s broken.” _y/n_ noticed the flush on Prentiss’s face. _y/n_ didn’t take her hands off of Emily. Now it was _y/n_’s turn to worry that Emily might fall. Eventually, their hands grew warm, and they dropped them. _y/n_ looked over at Prentiss and asked, “Are you waiting for someone? I’ve been here for about an hour, and well, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been here for a while. Sorry If I’m being nosy.” Emily sighed and said, “I was waiting for someone, but I don’t think they’re coming. That’s pretty depressing, isn’t it.” _y/n_ tipped her head and said, “I’m sorry. And sorry that you had to be out of town for work during the holidays. That always reeks.” Emily nodded. The case had been bad. Plus being stood up was never fun, but it was nice to see _y/n_ again. Nice to know that _y/n_ had made it past their shared night in the bar and their brief text exchange. Emily had forgotten how pretty _y/n_ was, but being in front of her again, she felt the unfamiliar pull toward _y/n__y/n_ pushed off the rink wall and moved to Emily’s side. Emily attempted to move forward, but she very shortly after almost fell again. Because of this fact, _y/n_ had stayed close by. As Emily nearly fell, _y/n_ skated in front of her and took her hands firmly. Steadying her. Emily watched with some surprise as _y/n_ skated backward with ease as _y/n_ kept her steady. After a minute of moving along the wall, _y/n_ asked, “Would you like me to let you go?” Prentiss considered it for a second and then said, “I’d rather you didn’t. If you don’t mind.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I don’t mind.” Emily nodded.
There was a short silence before Emily said, “So, um, are you feeling better since the last time I saw you?” _y/n_ flushed thinking of the last time they’d seen each other, but _y/n_ had grown since then, and replied, “I have actually. Well, at least I haven’t gotten so slooshed that I can’t tell when a pretty woman tells me that I’m the pretty one and that I matter for some inexplicable reason.” The bluntness with which _y/n_ made the statement had Emily chuckle and she said, “Well it’s true. You are pretty, and you do matter.” _y/n_ felt a flush bloom over her face, and to divert the attention from her, _y/n_ asked, “So, what asshole decided to stand you up? I might just give them a kick in the teeth.” Where this confidence was coming from, _y/n_ couldn’t say, but the small shine in Emily’s eyes made it all worth it. Prentiss sighed and replied, “Hinge. I should learn that my luck with dating apps is cursed. I’ve been stood up on four dates from Tinder and Bumble in the last three months. Talk about a track record. Also, you’re very good at staking backward. If that was me, I’d be on my ass already.” _y/n_ chuckled and said, “Well they’re all idiots for standing you up. And the ice skating thing, that was more of my _i/s/p/h_’s idea. You know, every kid needs a hobby, and they stuck me in skating. It wasn’t a very practical choice on their end. It’s not like I’m going to the Olympics or anything.” Emily smiled and replied, “Well, you say that, but it’s proving a very practical skill to me right now. And it’s gotta look cool if nothing else. My mother had me in language schools since I was five and then after all that, she had me practicing piano for three hours a day.” _y/n_’s eyes grew wider at the revelation. Emily Prentiss didn’t exactly seem like the type of person to just open up, but she had said something about her childhood, and perhaps Emily was simply reciprocating. After a beat, _y/n_ replied, “That sounds, lonely. Do you find either the languages or music skills still helpful to you?” Emily thought back to her first case with the BAU and how her Egyptian had helped the team. How it had bought her points with Gideon and Hotch. Of course, both men saw her for more than that after she’d become a permanent fixture on the team. Sometimes Emily wished she’d had more time with Agent Gideon. She felt like they could have been friends, but, the past was the past, and she let out a sigh before saying, “The languages come in handy when something comes up at work. However almost everyone in my department is multilingual, and if they’re not, well, I’ll just say that they make up for it with an abundance of talents in other areas. As for the piano lessons. Like most little girls and boys, I hated the practice. I gave it up in high school, and I regret that now. I have a keyboard at my place and if I ever find the time, I tinker, but not much more than that.” By the time Emily had finished talking, the pair had made it back to the opening of the rink. Prentiss had hardly noticed as she looked into _y/n_’s eyes and talked like they were friends. _y/n_ had made it easy to glide along the ice unafraid of falling or bumping into people, or worse, taking down some kid with her as she fell. _y/n_ stopped just beyond the opening, giving Emily a prime place to step out. However, Emily was hesitant to let go for a second, either from fear of falling or something else, she couldn’t say.
_y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “Would you like to go around another time?” It was the only reason _y/n_ could think of why Emily would still be holding her hands. Prentiss seemed to snap too, and replied, “Oh, no. thank you.” _y/n_’s face fell a little, But Emily was still looking into her countenance, and she was thinking that she did want to spend more time with _y/n_. Talking with her had been so calming. So easy. Like they were good friends who just hadn’t met yet. It took another second before Emily realized that she hadn’t shared the second part of her sentence aloud, and she blushed madly as she said, “But I’d like to hang out, maybe. Just someplace where I’m less likely to break a wrist or hip. There’s a cute coffee shop down the street if you’re down?” The words came out in a jumble, and Prentiss wondered why she was suddenly so bad at talking to women. Why did every attempt at flirting or a friendship with _y/n_ come off as vaguely insulting? She hadn’t dated a woman in a while, but Emily wasn’t that out of practice. It’s not like she’d been dating men in the recess. All Prentiss could do was wait and see how _y/n_ responded to yet another botched attempt at flirtation. After a second, _y/n_’s face broke out into a soft smile and said, “Yeah. I’d like that.” Emily beamed, and once she was off the ice, Emily helped _y/n_ step off the ice even though she clearly didn’t need her help. Emily asked, “Did you get a locker for your things?” _y/n_nodded and said, “Yes, right over there.” _y/n_ pointed to a row of lockers on the far side of the space. Emily’s purse and black boots were in a locker on the other side of _y/n_’s and they both moved in that direction chatting about the weather over the last week. A conversation that was easy to cut off when they both got to a place where they needed to split up for a second. Emily moved close to her locker and sat on the wooden benches taking off her skates. Emily moved to her locker and slipped the finicky key into her locker’s lock. She grabbed her shoes and zipped them up. The last thing she needed to do was sling her handbag over her shoulder, and then she’d go over to _y/n_ and they’d walk over to the coffee shop together. Just as Emily was walking over to _y/n_. She looked at the ground, trying to avoid the numerous puddles that spotted the ground. She didn’t want to get her leather Hermes shoes wet. However, the sound of _y/n_ shouting, “Hey, hey! Let go of it,” and then the sound of a sharp hand on flesh snapped Emily’s eyes up. Prentiss watched as the man ripped the purse from _y/n_’s hands, as _y/n_ moved her hands to her face which had just been hit. The fact that some punk had tried to and was now running away with _y/n_’s bag was bad, but the fact that the whippersnapper had hit _y/n_ had Emily running after him with a determination she would on a case. She flew past _y/n_ and tossed her purse over to the half-stunned woman to allow her to run unencumbered.
Emily’s footsteps pounded on the half-frozen ground. She deftly avoided the slick patches of ice that peppered the sidewalks and street. The vandal was not so lucky and took a few falls which slowed him down. The young man did make it past the crosswalk just before the warning hand popped up. The man had realized he was being followed and hoped to put some space between himself and the agent hot on his heels. Unfortunately for the thief, Emily was undeterred by the flashing orange hand and oncoming car. She wasn’t letting this punk get away with _y/n_’s things, or the fact that he had hit _y/n_ in an attempt to do so. Prentiss moved into the two-lane street and dodged a small Kia that honked at her furiously to get out of the way. She didn’t pay attention to the angry driver, as she made up some distance with the man. Emily felt her breath coming fast inhalations and exhilations as the man quickly, dangerously rounded a sharp corner in an alley full of trash and gunk. Prentiss was close enough to tackle the man, so she did. They both went down with a smack on the pavement, but the man had it worse as he went face-first into the street while Emily’s face and chest were padded by his legs. The man groaned, “Goddamn it. Where do you get off taking a guy down like that? Who the fuck are you anyway, J.I. Jane?” Emily smirked and said, “Who I am doesn’t matter. Maybe don’t try stealing shit in the open. Better yet, don’t try stealing anything at all.” Emily hauled the man up and toward a still police car that she had passed in her foot chase. Prentiss tapped on the window and flashed her badge. Thankfully didn’t take long for the officer to her statement and number for a follow-up call if he had more questions. _y/n_ watched as about twenty minutes later Emily came back into view. Her cream-colored pants looked dirty, like she’d rolled in some mud, but the smile on her face, as she held up _y/n_’s purse in triumph, had _y/n_ smiling as well. When Prentiss, who seemed to be out of breath, reached _y/n_ they both asked in unison, “Are you okay?” Emily repeated the question first and said, “Did that guy hurt you? Is your face alright?” _y/n_ nodded yes and said, “It’s fine, just a split lip is all. Nothing to write home about.” Even as _y/n_ said this, Prentiss looked more closely at _y/n_’s face, softly running her thumb over her mouth. _y/n_ cringed ever so slightly and let out a breath, as Emily’s warm hand brushed over her face, and the rush of warmth she felt as the brunette checked over her for any damage was something she hadn’t felt in months. The sensation was not unwelcome. When Prentiss had composed herself, _y/n_ gently brushed over her pants, trying to clean them a little, and see if Emily was hurt too. But the tall woman did not react. She just let _y/n_ fawn over her for a few minutes before Emily took _y/n_’s hands in hers saying, “I’m alright _y/n_, really. I just need to get these pants clean once I get home.” _y/n_ nodded, no longer in a daze from the events, but now by the woman in front of her. _y/n_ looked at her and asked, “How did you just do that, exactly? Are you often running down random pickpockets?” Prentiss chuckled and said, “Maybe. How about we talk about it over coffee? We seem to be continually interrupted by stuff, but I’m not going to let this stop us. Not even these dirty pants.” _y/n_ nodded and they exchanged purses and walked the short way to the quaint coffee shop named Doubles. Emily got them a seat and _y/n_ took her order of a flat white with vanilla. _y/n_ insisted on paying for her drink because she’d saved her purse. At the counter _y/n_ got her favorite winter drink and Emily’s. The line was shockingly short, and _y/n_ had their beverages in a few moments.
They sat in relative silence as they blew on their drinks and then sipped them with trepidation and fear that their mouths would be burned. As the drinks cooled, _y/n_ looked at Emily and asked, “What is it you do exactly? You seem so capable. Like you could do anything in the world.” Prentiss hesitated. She wasn’t one to disclose her job easily, but when she looked at _y/n_, she felt the openness she had when they were on the rink, like old friends. And Emily said, “I work for the FBI.” _y/n_ seemed surprised and she said, “And I’m guessing it’s not the tax fraud department?” Prentiss laughed low, and replied, “Yeah, not tax fraud, that’s for sure.” _y/n_ thought for a second and asked, “When you said you were out of town for work, was that FBI-related?” Emily nodded and said, “Yeah it was. We kind of just get called in and we go where we’re needed.” _y/n_ reflected on what Emily had said about her childhood. It seemed like a controlled childhood, and now a demanding job, _y/n_ had to ask, “Do you enjoy it? Your work?” There was a tense pause before Prentiss sighed and said, “I do. I know I’m making a difference, in my way. Both to my team and to society. But we all have our regrets about work, don’t we?” _y/n_ nodded in agreement.
Her recent work affairs had tainted her image of the company as HR had contacted her manager and he’d made a big stink about the whole affair. He’d blamed _y/n_ for coming onto him and not the other way around. HR had taken her side of things in the end. There had been too much evidence to prove anything that _y/n_’s boss had said, but whatever the case was, it was still uncomfortable. Emily saw _y/n_ retreat into herself and asked, “What is it you do, _y/n_?” _y/n_ snapped out of her head and said, “Oh. Nothing important. Just _y/j. Nothing like what you do, I assure you.” Prentiss noticed her uncertainty, the way _y/n_ spoke down about herself again and said, “_y/n_. Your job isn’t any more or less important than mine. We all have to work in this economy unless you're an heiress or something. But as long as it doesn’t drive you crazy and you get paid then I think that’s enough.” There was a pause and Emily asked, “Do you enjoy it?” She couldn’t be sure, as _y/n_’s face shifted into an uncomfortable look. Prentiss quickly tacked on, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” _y/n_ sighed and replied, “I don’t mind talking about it. I’m just disappointed. I moved here a few months ago for this new job, and my boss turned out to be a real ass. It was a whole ordeal last month and the start of this month. I just lost the joy I had for the company I guess.” Emily frowned and said, “That sounds disappointing. I’m sorry. Do you want to talk about it more?” Emily realized that she was dancing around a potentially sensitive subject and wished she’d kept her mouth shut. _y/n_ shifted in her seat a bit and said, “It’s getting better actually. I’ve been trying to stand up for myself a bit more. To be honest I’ve been a bit of a doormat most of my life and I’m sick of it. I’m not quite at tackling a guy that steals my purse yet. I think that’s when you graduate from beginner-level non-doormat status. That’s why I’m lucky to have someone like you around. Even if it is serendipitously. But, maybe there are nicer things we can talk about?”
Emily smiled and nodded, acknowledging how open _y/n_ had been with her. However, she realized that having a lighter conversation would be more enjoyable. And they’d get to know each other better that way. So, for the next hour and a half, they talked about everyday things. Like the worst movie they’d seen that year, or the best album they’d listened to. What had made them laugh so hard that they’d cried. And by the end of the conversation that flowed with ease, as Emily asked _y/n_ if the bar on 6th street was her favorite, or if she just went there out of convenience because it was so close to her house, when Prentiss held out her hand on the table in front of her, and _y/n_ took it. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. _y/n_ and Emily finished their conversation and _y/n_ looked at the woman in front of her. She wasn’t sure what was going on. If this was flirting or friendship or something else entirely, but as things seemed to be wrapping down, _y/n_ didn’t want it to end. So _y/n_ asked, “Emily, would you want to do this again sometime? Like, sometime soon? I don’t know if you can tell or not, but I don’t have many friends, and talking to you, well talking to you is so easy.” Prentiss squeezed _y/n_’s hand slightly and replied, “Yes. I’d like that. Is there a day in the next two weeks that works well for you?” Emily was very happy that _y/n_ had asked, because if _y/n_ hadn’t, then she would have had to, and that somehow felt like pressing her luck. But _y/n_ had asked, and they agreed on a day, and then Emily explained how, due to her work schedule, she had to be very flexible with plans. And if she should have to take a rain check on their next meeting, that it had nothing to do with _y/n_ and everything to do with work. And, although if a statement like that had come from anyone else but the enigmatic Emily, she would have thought they were canceling on her already. But with Prentiss _y/n_ believed her. Or at least she wanted to believe her, and _y/n_ hadn’t had that kind of hope in anyone in a long, long time. So _y/n_ chose to believe Emily and see where it went from here. _y/n_ and Emily said their goodbyes until the next time, and Prentiss gave y/n_’s arm an affectionate rub just before she hopped into that taxi that would whisk her away like a sprite in the wind.
Both Emily and _y/n_ thought about the other on and off between the next time they would meet. To _y/n_ it all felt new. As she pondered their first and second meeting, _y/n_ contemplated how her stomach fluttered in a way it had in high school, but not since then. _y/n_ wondered if it was love, lust, or something secret thing that she’d not learned about yet that happened when one liked women. She also wondered if it was too fast to be falling head over heels for someone she barely knew. It felt like Twilight but make it homoerotic. _y/n_ wished she was more sure of herself. Wished she had the confidence to just be honest with herself. But for now, she was just happy to be seeing Emily again. And if things went well, which she hoped they would, then she would ask the most beautiful women she’d ever laid eyes on, what exactly it was that they were trying to be.
Even just as a friend, Emily Prentiss seemed like a good person to have on one’s team. Emily, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how a stranger had gotten her to drop her walls with no prompting, prodding, or intrusive questions at all. Prentiss’s mother had instilled in her, from an early age, a ‘personal none-disclosure policy, no matter what the personal cost.’ And the astute agent stuck to it for the most part. But _y/n_ had managed to weave her way past her barriers so easily, without even trying. And, as Emily thought about it, she realized that _y/n_’s not trying had been the key. If anything, she had been the one that had pressed _y/n_ for information, and _y/n_ had answered honestly. At least all of her tells had indicated honesty. So many of her previous lovers and would-be lovers had pressed and pressed, and pressed, like those accusing witches in Salem. But _y/n_ hadn’t done that. There was just a kindness to _y/n_ that seemed to permeate the air she inhabited. _y/n_ seemed to have a genuine desire to know her, but in a gentle way that didn’t make her feel like a thing being examined under a microscope. Her internal and external flaws were being picked apart one by one via vivisection. No. getting to know and being known by _y/n_ was like gentle hands running up her body, discovering every part of her. Letting herself be known.
Suddenly Emily felt flushed all over. She was sure she was red in the face because Derek had come up beside her with Garcia nearby and said, “What are you thinking about, baby girl?” Morgan had Emily nearly jump out of her seat, and she said, “Geeze Derek, you didn’t have to scare me to death.” Morgan laughed and said, “Well, if you’d been paying any attention, you’d know I called your name twice before speaking louder. What’s got your mind so busy? You have another hot date last night with a guy?” Morgan couldn’t help but notice Emily’s flushed state, and that her breathing had picked up ever so slightly. Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. Garcia, as if she were a profiler herself, commented, “She rolled her eyes, so it’s probably not a boy. Is it a girl? It could be that or someone who’s non-binary. Oh please Em, spill the beans. My love life is as dry and old bones right now, and I need someone vicarious to live through to make it through the drought.” Now Prentiss rolled her eyes because of Penelope’s antics. Emily had reigned in her straying thoughts and her flush. Morgan chimed in, “I’m siding with Garcia on this one. I haven't heard you complain about a bad date in ages Prentiss. You finally find someone worth your time?” Emily replied, “You know ya’ll two are the biggest gossip’s in this building, right?” Garcia grinned and said, “Guilty as charged. Now spill the tea.” Em sighed again and said, “Listen I don’t even know yet. This is very new and I’m trying to understand my own feelings about the whole situation. As for the gender of this person. I think that can wait. Last time I told you both the restaurant I had dinner with on a second date on Penelope had found that dude’s Insta by the afternoon, so I’m not making that mistake twice.” Before either Morgan or Penelope could protest, Hotch called the team into the conference room to debrief the newest case. It was a mercy for Emily, and she let her mind wander back to the image of her and _y/n_ being that close, or exploring a deeper intimacy together before she fully pushed it aside to focus on the case.
Emily was back in the David Copperfield Bar, the one on 6th that she’d met _y/n_ at. The last week had been rough. The case was a hard one, bumping right up to the Holidays. Then after that, she got word from her mother that she wouldn’t be able to visit her in London because her mom had to go to an emergency security council meeting in Brussels which had been a big bummer. Emily hadn’t seen her mom in over two years, and this was going to be her chance, but fate had other plans. Plans that even Emily was unaware of. She had found herself in _y/n_’s neck of the woods because she was doing some retail therapy. She’d bought a new dress which she wore out of the Prada. Rossi had offered for her to come and celebrate Christmas with him, but as the rest of the team was mostly away with family or friends, Prentiss felt that it was a little sad and had said no. So she had spent the holidays alone. That depressing fact was still catching up with her. As Emily sipped on a Cosmo, the doorbell jingled and she was surprised to see _y/n_ step inside and shake off some snow from a warm-looking coat. Her and _y/n_’s next meeting slash date was set for next week on Friday, and Emily hadn’t expected to see her again until this. But the sight was far from unwelcome.
_y/n_ noticed Emily too. _y/n_ moved across the mostly empty space to where she was sitting and said, “Well fancy seeing you here, Emily. Did something drag you to this side of town during the holidays?” _y/n_ couldn’t imagine a person like Emily drinking alone. There must be some other reason. Prentiss sighed and said, “No it’s just me. I was spending my Christmas money, as you can see.” She pointed to her Prada bag, and _y/n_’s eyebrows went up. _y/n_ jokingly asked, “Wow, if the FBI paying that well. I should consider a career change.” _y/n_’s joke didn’t seem to land and Emily still looked glum after. _y/n_ tipped her head to the side and said, “Mind if I join you after grabbing a drink?” Prentiss nodded yes, and _y/n_ was quick to grab her standard drink and then sit down across from the demure woman. After a few moments of silence, _y/n_, “What’s the matter, Emily? You seem so sad.” Emily looked into _y/n_’s empathetic eyes and sighed before saying, “It’s nothing really. I had a bad week at work and then I was supposed to fly out to see my mom but that got mixed up. I’m just throwing myself a pity party by having a cheap drink and having some retail therapy. I’ll be alright, _y/n_. I’m just going to finish this round, closeout, go home, and sleep for a solid eight hours. I’ll feel better then.” Emily was feeling sad, and she didn’t want to dampen _y/n_’s evening with her mood. However, _y/n_ worried about Emily a little. This wasn’t her confident, chipper self. _y/n_ replied, “Do you want to be alone tonight? You can come over to my place. It’s two days after Christmas. If you don’t want to be alone, you don’t have to be Emily.” The words came out of _y/n_ like water. Like they’d been there all along and they’d finally slipped out of her mouth for good. _y/n_ didn’t mind them, but they seemed like something someone far more confident than her would say. Emily similarly seemed taken aback, but mostly because it sounded so nice after all she’d been through that week. To be in _y/n_’s company felt like a balm. Prentiss said gently, “_y/n_, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to take time away from your life, or if you’ve still got friends or family around.” _y/n_ smiled and replied, “I’ve spent time with the people that matter to me. If I couldn’t see them in person then we called. And I managed to mostly avoid the people I hate. But my house is empty, and you’re welcome in it even if it’s just for an hour so you don’t feel alone.” Emily looked at _y/n_ and again there was no dishonesty in her countenance. Emily wasn’t sure if _y/n_ could tell a lie. And because she badly wanted to feel seen, Prentiss nodded a small yes. They both finished their drinks, and _y/n_ paid for both of them with Emily softly insisting to pay _y/n_ back, but it really didn’t matter either way.
The pair took their time walking to _y/n_’s house as the flurries floated down in soft waves that made a satisfying crunching sound beneath both _y/n_ and Emily’s feet. Neither spoke as neither knew what was going to happen once they got to _y/n_’s place. But they made it eventually and _y/n_ unlocked the gate and then the door and then she was turning on the lights and telling Emily, “Make yourself at home? Would you like something to drink? Some water or a glass of wine? I’ve got cold brew if you like that at nine p.m.” That finally got Emily to laugh as she took off her coat and rather unceremoniously slumped down on the couch. Hearing Prentiss laugh had _y/n_ turn her head back and say, “Now that’s the girl I know.” Hearing those words had Emily flush. She cleared her throat and said, “A glass of wine would be nice, _y/n_. Thank you for having me.” _y/n_ nodded, and as she poured two glasses red. _y/n_ set the glasses in front of them and then sat next to Emily. She sat so close that she could feel the heat radiating off the brunette beside her. They both took their glasses, gave them a small clink and Emily said, “To friends, we didn’t know we needed.” _y/n_ smiled, placing a hand on Emily’s thigh. _y/n_ took a small sip of wine and then asked, “Is that what we are Emily? Friends?” Prentiss’s eyes had gotten wider, pupils slowly blowing out. Emily softly ran a circle with her thumb over the soft flesh of Emily’s upper leg.
_y/n_ felt like she must be possessed by Aphrodite with the confidence that had up until now, never emerged like this before. _y/n_’s desire for Emily was strong, stronger than it had ever been, and more shockingly was the fact that Prentiss wasn’t pulling away from her touch. She was leaning into it, into her. And before _y/n_ could fully understand what was happening, their lips were meeting and the scent of Emily’s perfume filled her head like a hallucinogen. Emily similarly reveled in the sensation of _y/n_ soft lips pressed against hers. She snaked her hands into _y/n_’s hair, just to make sure this wasn’t a dream. When they had to pull back, Prentiss took a quick breath. She kept her hands woven in _y/n_’s smooth locks and then kissed her forehead tenderly. Emily didn’t consider herself a woman of lust, but the feelings that _y/n_ had pulled out of her made her want more. Made her want to get drunk on _y/n_ alone. Finally, she pulled back, and _y/n_ was flushed and her chest rose and fell more rapidly as if she was still trying to regain her breath. Emily placed a hand on the side of _y/n_’s face. She wanted to ensure that there was consent for everything going forward, so she asked, “_y/n_, do you want to keep doing this? Doing more? I’d like that with you _y/n_, but only if you're comfortable with it. I don’t want to move too fast if it’s unwanted.” Emily’s words seemed to zap all of _y/n_’s confidence from her, and she pulled back a little. Prentiss took this as a “Yes, let’s stop for now,” but didn’t understand the internal conflict _y/n_ was having. Didn’t understand why _y/n_ felt like she couldn’t say yes even though she desperately wanted to. But how could _y/n_ admit that she’d never been with a woman before to someone as pretty and cool as Emily? What would Emily think of her after that? But Prentiss could see _y/n_ look aside, the loss of confidence that had looked so good on her. In a gentle voice, Emily asked, “Penny for your thoughts, _y/n_.” _y/n_ bit the inside of her lip and realized if she was going to be brave with anyone in this area of her life, Emily was probably the best person to do it with. After all, it was Emily, she had just been making out with like it was nothing. So risking whatever there was between them, _y/n_ said, “I, I want to be with you like that Em. It’s just, well, I’ve never been with a woman before and I know, I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know how. I don’t want it to be mediocre. Not for you. With guys, it’s whatever, but not with you. You deserve the best, and…” _y/n_ realized she was rambling and cut herself off, embarrassed.
Emily nodded a bit in understanding and replied, “_y/n_, did you think I was going to laugh at you or something for not being experienced?” _y/n_ turned her head back to Prentiss and gave a small affirmative nod. Emily sighed and took her hands saying, “_y/n_ we all have to start somewhere. My first time with a woman wasn’t great, I can tell you that. It was all teeth and tongue.” Emily flushed at the memory. She’d grown a lot since then in her sexuality and experience. _y/n_ knew where Emily was coming from but said hesitantly, “Yes, but you’re my first woman to be intimate with Emily and I can only imagine that it will be tongue and teeth when I reciprocate.” Emily squeezed _y/n_’s hand and said, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want to make you feel good _y/n_. Making you feel amazing will make me feel very happy. And if you want to try with me, I can tell you what I like. Show you what to do? But you don’t have to. You make me feel so open, _y/n_. And I’d like to share that with you, for you, if you’ll have me?” _y/n_ looked at Emily. _y/n_ thought about everything, about how she didn’t know what this relationship was, but how good it had felt to kiss Emily. How natural it was. How Prentiss had booked after a robber just to get her purse back with her. Yes, _y/n_ felt the nerves in her stomach clench in apprehension, but the desire to have something more with Emily gave her the courage to nod and eventually say, “Yes. I want that with you too, Emily. Would you show me how it works?” Emily softly smiled and said, “Of course. I’d be happy too. How would you feel about moving to your bedroom? I think this might be more comfortable there than on the coach.
_y/n_ nodded and stood. Emily placed a hand on her lower back, as they moved a few feet to _y/n_’s bedroom. _y/n_ turned on some lamps and then stood in front of Emily, hands down in supplication. Prentiss moved toward her and said honestly, “You can tell me to stop at any time. If at any point you want to stop, we stop, alright?” _y/n_ nodded yes, and Emily asked, “Please tell me yes.” _y/n_ cleared her throat, a blush rising at the idea of what was about to happen, and said, “Yes. I promise.” Emily smiled and said, “That’s my girl,” before leaning down and kissing _y/n_ again. This kiss was more passionate. Now _y/n_ ran her hands through Emily’s dark hair, while the agent's hands slipped behind _y/n_ back and shoulders. Pulling _y/n_’s body more flush with hers. Prentiss ran her tongue over _y/n_’s low lip and _y/n_ opened her mouth in surprise at the warm, wet sensation. Emily pulled back ever so slightly and looked at the hazy gaze of desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Emily whispered, “Can I slip my tongue in your mouth? I want to taste you here before I taste you down there?” _y/n_ flushed further and nodded her consent. _y/n_ more excitedly pressed her lips to Emily’s opening her mouth again. Emily moved her tongue inside _y/n_’s mouth and softly explored the dark space. Feeling the concaves and upper palette of the space. Emily savored this small step, as she felt _y/n_ press her body even closer to her own as the intimacy and trust grew between them. When _y/n_ let out a soft moan, prompted by Prenitss slipping her hand under her shirt, and to her bare back, Emily pulled away.
Whatever hesitation or fear had been in _y/n_ before was slowly seeping away as she longed for more sensation from her guide in this new realm or pleasure. Prentiss asked, “Is it okay if I help you out of these things you’re wearing? You get to choose how much you want me to see.” _y/n_ smiled and said, “I’d like you to see everything. And I’d like to see all of your too,” as _y/n_ began undoing the buttons of her shirt while Emily moved her slender hands to _y/n_’s skirt waistband. When the zipper was undone, it slipped to the floor along with _y/n_’s shirt which she cast aside. Emily looked over _y/n_ in her semi-naked state. She was luminous, glowing under the lamplight in _y/f/c_ bra and panties. Emily affirmed her as she had the first night they met. “You are so, so beautiful, _y/n_. With your clothes, without your clothes. You’re like a sun, like a light.” _y/n_ chuckled and moved softly behind Emily, with the profiler watching her graceful steps. _y/n_ said, “May I get you out of this dress?” Prentiss nodded and _y/n_ pulled down the zipper on the back. The gold teeth unwound one by one down to Emily’s lower back Once there, _y/n_ pushed either side of the body off of Emily’s arms. The outfit was formfitting and it took one or two more tugs to get the dress to join the rest of _y/n_’s clothes on the floor. When it was off, _y/n_ moved to face Emily head-on again. Now _y/n_ looked over the goddess that was in front of her and said, “Have you considered that I might just be a mirror and that you’re the one that’s the sun, Emily?” _y/n_ really hadn’t allowed herself to consciously think about Emily like this. Or even look at her that closely until now because an insecure part of her, deep inside, had told _y/n_ that someone like Emily would never be interested in her. But now the most beautiful woman in the world was in front of her, in only a white lace bra and matching underwear and it was all a bit overwhelming in the best possible way. It felt like the relief of getting a breath of oxygen after being pushed underwater by a big wave for too long. It didn’t even take Emily asking to get _y/n_ to take her hand and lead them both to her bed. Once they were on the mattress with _y/n_ laying up on her elbows and Emily slightly over her, Prentiss kissed her mouth and then down her jawline and neck. Once between the valley of _y/n_ breasts, Emily slipped her right hand behind _y/n_’s back and easily undid the clasp of _y/n_’s bra while her left slipped the straps off _y/n_’s shoulders. _y/n_ helped in removing the intimate article. _y/n_’s nipples upon exposure to the cool air formed their taut buds, ready to be rubbed or sucked. However, before Emily moved forward, she sought clarity,
Emily sat up a bit, and _y/n_ looked slightly disappointed as Prentiss said, “_y/n_. Just so I know, how much experience do you have with sex and intimacy? Be it with men or yourself?” _y/n_ flushed but replied honestly, “You know, I’ve messed around. Had a boyfriend or two. It was mostly _y/e/w/m/b_, but not much more than that. As for what I’ve tried myself is just _w/y/d/w/ys_.” Somehow _y/n_ had imagined that sharing her history with Emily would be embarrassing, like saying she’d never been with a woman would be embarrassing. But Prentiss took it in stride and said, “Thank you for telling me. I’m going to go slow for now. If you want more or less, or to stop, all you have to do is tell me.” _y/n_ nodded and watched as Emily dipped her head down to her chest, taking her right nipple into her mouth and swirling her tongue over the sensitive area.” Almost instantly _y/n_ moaned and closed her eyes. As _y/n_ tipped her head back, Prentiss used her left hand to rub over _y/n_’s left nipple and used her right to trace down _y/n_’s side, and then between _y/n_’s legs. With practiced pressure, Emily rubbed circles over _y/n_’s clothed sex. _y/n_ let out another moan, and Emily knew that if she slipped her right hand under _y/n_’s panties, she would feel the beginnings of desire slick her fingers. But she worked slowly, making sure _y/n_ was ready. After a few minutes and many more needy sounds for _y/n_, Emily asked, “Can I taste you down there? It’s not invasive or overwhelming generally speaking like traditional sex. I think you might like it. It’s a good starting place for this type of intimacy.” _y/n_ stopped herself from recounting how the one time she’d asked a partner about cunnilingus, they had said, “That stuff’s gross,” and instead said, “Yes, please.” Because _y/n_ had wondered what it felt like, and if it was Emily's offering, it had to be mindblowing. Everything else the brunette had been doing to her body had been ecstatic. Eliciting feelings and responses she’d never felt before. Emily nodded and again, saw the desire in _y/n_’s eyes. Prentiss kissed down _y/n_’s stomach and navel and then made it to the elastic of her underwear. Because Emily had been continually teasing and applying appropriate pressure to _y/n_’s clit, she knew that _y/n_ was soaked already. That it wouldn’t take much to get her over the edge. Prentiss pulled off _y/n_’s last piece of clothing with _y/n_’s help by lifting her hips. It was just the sound of their shared breath as Emily positioned _y/n_’s legs apart and slightly bent. Emily repositioned herself on the bed and gave one final look to _y/n_ between her legs. _y/n_ nodded her final consent, and Prentiss moved her mouth to _y/n_’s most intimate area.
Even as Emily’s tongue made its first pass in tasting _y/n_’s arousal, the new sensation had _y/n_ clench her stomach in the most pleasurable way. Similarly, Emily loved the taste of _y/n_ so much that she lapped up and down _y/n_’s sex from her entrance to her sensitive bundle of nerves, taking everything she could with each pass. _y/n_ gripped the sheets of the bed with clenched fists; saying Emily’s name as she struggled to get the word out around her pleasure. Emily slowed her mouth a bit, realizing she was getting ahead of herself with her desire. As Prentiss started to draw small circles up and then down _y/n_ weeping sex, she used her other hand to run up and down _y/n_’s side. After a few minutes of this, _y/n_was panting. The tingling in her core had built up to a fire that was daring to be let out. To flare with just the smallest addition of oxygen. Emily’s mouth and nose were wet with _y/n_’s slick, and when _y/n_ said, “Please, Emily. I don’t think I can take it much longer.” Prentiss moved her attention to the _y/n_’s clit. Emily sucked and licked the area in tight circles. That was all it took for _y/n_ to intensely climax. _y/n_’s orgasm felt like water finally coming to a boil. The sensation was so strong that she spasmed uncontrollably for a moment and then collapsed into the bed. The euphoric feeling was so filling that _y/n_’s mind went blank for a few moments. It took _y/n_ a few minutes to realize that Emily had moved from between her legs and was now by her side, checking in on her, and running a hand up and down her arm to ground _y/n_. When _y/n_ opened her eyes, she said, “That was so good Em. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I want to give that to you too. I’m just not sure if I can do it tonight. My brain, it’s like, turned into soup or something.” _y/n_ chuckled, closing her legs and saying, “Maybe you broke me. I’m not sure if humans are supposed to feel that good.” Prentiss smiled at _y/n_’s words and how flushed she still looked, even minutes after her release. Emily ran a hand through _y/n_’s hair and said, “You deserve to feel that way often, _y/n_. I’ll make it your new normal if you’ll let me. I feel drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt pulled to anyone before. I’d like to show you more. Get to know you more. Keep spending time together.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I’d like that, But only if you promise to show me how to make you feel this way too?” Emily nodded and said, “It would be a pleasure.” There were a few moments of silence before _y/n_ said, “Spend the night with me, please? It’s late, and I need my sun near me for a warmth I never knew I needed.” Emily smiled and nodded, wordlessly nestling close to _y/n_’s body, finding solace in their proximity.
After composing herself a bit _y/n_ moved, turned off all of the lights, and lay down next to Emily again. With an arm draped over Prentiss’s waist. _y/n_ asked in the darkness of the room, “What are we exactly, Emily? Is this what people always talk about with love at first sight?” Emily’s laugh reassured _y/n_ that she felt the same way about that trope as her. Emily replied softly, “I don’t know yet. I don’t think this feeling I have around you has ever happened to me before. But maybe we can figure out a label tomorrow if it will bring you comfort. All I know is that I love you, _y/n_, and I don’t want to let you go.” As _y/n_ felt Emily fall asleep in her arms. _y/n_ whispered, “I love you too, Em.” As _y/n_ slipped into oblivion, she pondered how she’d never really allowed herself to fall in love before. Because it could hurt, because she’d been rejected before. The fear of falling seemed so stupid now that Emily was nestled next to her, and with that, she slipped into sleep.
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