#that description long asl
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eternal sunshine.
pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!singer!reader x ex!carlos sainz.
warnings: mentions of cheating, carlos slander, and inspired by ‘eternal sunshine - ariana grande.’
in which you collaborate with your friend and release a song about your ex while simultaneously revealing your new relationship.
yourusername 📍 los angeles
liked by landonorris, arianagrande, lewishamilton, and 2,382,466 others
yourusername just motivation to get back into the studio ig 🍷
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landonorris one positive to this situation, we get new music 🤲
yourusername 🫡
user7 lando norris is the one and only y/n fanboy
user34 lando!! run that man off the track for us pls!
arianagrande love you girl!! 🤍
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lewishamilton can’t wait to listen to the new music!
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user12 shooting his shot now that carlos is out of the picture LMFAOO
user8 lewis save y/n from carlos pls 🙏
user9 y/n l/n x XNDA
user72 HE FUMBLED BAE!!
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user63 guys she liked this 😭 that means he for sure cheated, they weren’t already broken up??!
user2 he’s so icky
user21 ARI X Y/N COLLAB???
user38 yesss y/n was listed on the track list for ariana’s new album as a feature on one of the songs
user75 AHHH I CANT WAIT
yourusername
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yourusername eternal sunshine by my bestie ari featuring me is out now and available to stream on all platforms ☀️ so grateful that ari wanted me to be on this diamond of a song, it means so much to the both of us!
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arianagrande omg i love you! thank you for joining me on this song, hopefully we can collaborate again soon!
yourusername yes ofc 😭🫶🏻
charles_leclerc love the song ❤️
yourusername ty cha!! i miss you!
user7 omg cuties 🥹
user92 ohhh ik charles has beef w carlos rn 🫡
landonorris stream the song guys
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user53 yesss promote her iktr 😝
lewishamilton amazing song 🩶
yourusername ty lew 😊
user12 LEWWWW? omg adorable
user38 lewis is about to steal carlos’ girl 🫣
user9 yea she’s not carlos’ girl…womp..he’s a lame cheater
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user24 NOT HER LIKING YOUR REPLY LMFAOOO SHADY I LOVE HER
billieeilish be mine
yourusername ily.
billieeilish we’re collabing next
user67 BILLIE?
sabrinacarpenter hot girl activities.
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chappellroan beautiful girl! love the song!
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user95 Y/N…THE LYRICS ARE CRAZY
user11 did ariana write the song or y/n??
user89 pretty sure ariana wrote most of it but y/n mentioned she was doing some of the writing as well…sooo maybe 👀
lizgillz love ya both!
yourusername love you more xx
lewishamilton
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lewishamilton met gala 2024 🩶
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yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻
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user12 OMG?? Y/N?? LEWIS??
user7 so happy for both of them 😭 she deserves better than the way carlos treated her
user11 AHHH FREAKING OUT RN
user0 not her being a grid hopper, i see why carlos left her 💀
user93 ummm stfu you flop 😟! he cheated on her and she left him….booooo 🍅🍅 you suck
landonorris better be treating her well 😁
lewishamilton of course 😊
user94 HELPPP
yourusername
liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 1,723,266 others
yourusername i found a good boy and he’s on my side 🫶🏻
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charles_leclerc so happy for both of you ❤️
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alexandrasaintmleux love you. you deserve nothing but the best. 😽
yourusername love you alex 🥹
lewishamilton i love you so much my gorgeous girl
yourusername love you more xx
user39 SO CUTE
#that description long asl#gave me a stroke idk if that grammar is working#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1#formula one smau#formula one x reader#formula one fanfiction#formula one#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton smau#lewis hamilton#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz x reader
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DAY 2: SIGN LANGUAGE
Image Description in the alt text!!
lets try this one again. holy shit i havent drawn tommy in so long. thats ok. i still love you chommy. i miss you henry. i decided to look up the BSL sign for cow instead of the ASL sign for this piece ^^ my headcannon for this one is that ctommy is partially deaf
@mcytphysicaldisabilityweek
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Uncommon Intimacy
Black Noir x Female Reader
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Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)
Dirty talk, praise kink, male and female masturbation, phone sex/sexting, descriptions/mentions of oral (m and f receiving), sub/dom dynamics, established relationship, some fluffies, ASL usage.
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A/N: Baby baby BABY I MISSED YOUUUU
Also, thank you @thesleepingmusicneek for beta-reading 😊❤️
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Black Noir Masterlist
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“Noir, baby,” Huffing out a dramatic breath, you toss your head back. “Please.”
Pathetic in nature, both your small sound and theatrical movement, you know it does nothing to win him over. Noir’s shoulders jerk slightly, rising and falling from the humor he finds in your current state. But he doesn’t judge you, he adores you.
“Baby, can I take off my panties?”
Lifting your head, you’re met with the incredibly erotic sight of him, yet again. Sitting in that black office chair, surrounded by nothing but the basic amenities of his hotel room. As usual, that second skin is on, his hardened suit and sleek, black armor. Although, one piece is missing.
“Please?” Asking again, your eyes focus on his hands, watching intently.
He’s made himself comfortable, laying back in the chair and slouching slightly as he touches himself. Noir always started out with a gradual pace, fisting himself with long, slow strokes. He looks so full, and if you watch for long enough, you’re sure to see him throb. His tip is already leaking, small droplets of precum sliding down his shaft in a way that makes your mouth water. And you stare openly, wantonly; you’ve missed him far too much to be shameful of your needs.
“Don’t you want to see me?” You plead, breathing heavily. You’re rubbing your palm over the space between your legs, he’d allowed that much. The only fabric between you and your hand is that of your panties and it makes you ache, the wet spot on the very center of them only growing with each passing moment.
“Don’t you want to see how wet you make me?”
At this, Noir tilts his head. You should know taunting doesn’t work on him.
With a defeated and aggravated sigh, you throw your head back again. Even when you’re not looking at him, you can hear the subtle squelch as he moves his hand. Using his gloved thumb, he spreads the clear liquid around his head, taking advantage of the natural lubrication as he speeds up his motions, drawing your attention again.
“Baby…”
Reaching down with his other hand, Noir cups his scrotum, rolling the tender flesh in his palm while his head drops back with a light groan. He does this while he continues to fist himself, his hips bucking slightly from the stimulation.
Tonight’s call started with just a few small texts; you telling Noir how much you missed him, asking about the conference and what he had been up to.
Shifting slightly, he readjusts in his chair, slouching back more and in turn shoving his hips closer to the screen. His head is still back, both hands continuing to work his most sensitive parts. And he does it all through his laptop, touching himself while you watch through your screen.
You’re aching for something and still, you wait for him, you’re always such a good girl for him. Whatever he asked of you, you did. You touched him just how he liked, when he liked. You undressed yourself when told to, you touched your tits when told to, you pushed one and then two fingers past your slippery lips when he told you to. And when you’re like this, it makes him proud.
Helplessly, you whimper, inadvertently pulling him back to the most magnificent memories. You’d been apart for weeks and on nights where you fell asleep before he came back to his hotel room, they’re all he was left with when allowing himself release. He never liked to look at any pictures or videos that weren’t of you. There was one specific memory that he’d gone back to far more than the others; the night you had together before he left. He’d stripped you bare, cupping your tits until he nodded at you, telling you to lay down and play with them. It intrigued Noir, seeing how you liked to be touched. He grabbed your thighs while you did it, wrenching them apart before his fingers played with your lips. Specifically though, he’s thinking about what happened before this, just before he’d pulled you into your bedroom to have you. When he got home that day, you were already waiting for him. You’d been dressed in a simple, black lingerie set he’d bought you a while back; it’s his favorite one, it looks stunning on you. The sight alone made his knees weak, and when you took him by the hand to lead him over to the couch, he all but crumbled at your feet. He sat back, legs spread wide while you removed the armor around his pelvis. One of your best sexual talents was oral, he’d never met anyone who swallowed him like you do. And you loved to play with his balls, too, not dissimilar to the way he’s playing with them now. You loved to hold them while you sucked on his tip, fondle them with your fingers and palm while going down on him. One of his favorite moves was when you lowered yourself to suck on them, jerking him off in your hand while staring up at his mask. That always made him cum, and thinking about it now makes his hips rut up into the hole of his fist.
Noir can see the dampness on your panties when he lifts his head, groaning when he watches you rub yourself again. It seemed a little oldschool, but Noir loved doing this on your laptops; it gave him the quickest opportunity to send a message if and when he wanted to. Which he does right now.
Wider.
“Yeah? You want to see more?” Tilting your head with a small, almost bashful grin, Noir watches as your legs shift. But they don’t spread.
Impatiently, he releases himself, now using his hands to communicate with you. He often did this when becoming irritated, at least in these situations. He wasn’t asking anymore, he was demanding. And while Noir lacked the ability to offer facial expressions, using his hands to communicate could still be effective in certain instances. Repeating the word with his physical motions, Noir brings both fists toward each other, his pointer knuckles extended a bit. His left hand is then sternly dragged away, almost as if he were pulling an invisible string straight across his chest.
It makes you shiver, seeing his biceps bulge from it, those gloves fingers wrapping around himself as he settles down again. Doing as he says, you part your legs, now wide enough for him to fully see your dripping secret. And as soon as you do it, he’s grabbing himself with both hands, chest tightening from your promiscuous act. Running two fingers down your center, you can practically see Noir’s moan, can see the heavy dip in his chest as it runs up through his throat. He then takes one hand away, keeping one on his cock while gently squeezing the tip.
“Baby, I love watching you do this…”
For someone that didn’t speak, Noir was surprisingly good at dirty talk. The messages he sent you made you wet for him daily, and it also helped with getting to know what he liked. For instance, you know he likes when you play with your wetness, showing him what he’s done to you. He likes seeing the clear strings connecting your fingertips to your pussy when you finally pull them away. He loves seeing your ass, seeing it move and jiggle, watching you bend over and feeling it slap against his pelvis when you ride him. Noir also liked when you whined, he told you how tiny and helpless it made you sound.
For just a second, Noir lifts his dominant hand, leaving himself completely unattended. His erection sits against his armored stomach, twitching once while it waits. Briefly, you wonder what he’s doing, but then you hear him spit. The sound is forceful and wet, and when his hand returns, you can see the saliva on his glove. Your airy moan hits the air when he does it, watching his fingers wrap around his swollen length once again. But then he sighs, the end of it turning into a dark groan. Moving backwards slightly, he allows you to see him fully. While he’s still entirely suited, there’s something different about seeing all of him on the screen. The breath he inhaled is released slowly, firmly, his head tilting down as his eyes zero in on you. The air of your encounter shifts.
“C… can I?” You repeat, this request more timid than the ones before. His gaze is no less than terrifying and intimidating.
Noir waits for a moment, and so do you, before he finally nods. All at once, relief and excitement flood your body. While pulling your legs up you also reach down, grabbing your panties and sliding them down your legs. You make a little show out of it, your happy smirk visible as you remove them slowly, much slower than he would have done himself. And when they’re off entirely, you plant your feet on either side of the keyboard, displaying your center perfectly.
Beneath his mask, your lover’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. You’re fucking dripping for him. Your lips are shiny and pink, and he knows you must taste like heaven right now. Usually, you smelled like it too.
“Thank you,” Comes your breathy expression of gratitude, fingers swirling around your little, reddened bud.
At this point, your eyelids are dipping, only able to focus on the screen while pleasure and excitement begin to consume you. And you know exactly what he means when his next message comes through.
Let me see it.
The laugh you exhale is light and playful, keeping your eyes on him while dipping a single finger inside. And as soon as your expression changes, he rolls his eyes, head lolling to the side. Removing your finger, you slide them over the seam of your sex before pulling them away, showing him the glistening strands. Christ, you looked so magnificent like this.
“Baby,” Your sudden whine prompts his head to shoot up, looking directly into your eyes. “I miss you, miss having you in my mouth.”
At this, his hand picks up again, moving quicker than before. His deep groans and shallow grunts now begin filtering through the speakers of your laptop, a subtle prompt for you to continue.
“Love the way you taste on my tongue…” Gently, you rub yourself, applying light pressure in the exact way he would.
And it’s true, having Noir in your mouth made you satisfied like nothing else. The taste of him on your tongue, his girth weighing heavy as it leaked into your throat… his smell just beneath your nose, thick patches of curls tickling your face whenever you choked. And more often than not, he’d hold you there, only needing one hand to keep you in place.
In a display of weakness, of emotional vulnerability, Noir whines. His free hand lifts, pointing to his chest and then his chin, before extending that same finger out to you. And inside, your heart bursts for him. He misses you.
“Tell me, baby.”
I mis ur beautifl mouth
His words make you grin - you know when there are errors in his typing, it just means he’s losing focus, getting too wrapped up in the moment, in whatever wondrous activity he’s doing with you. In your mind, it’s almost like he’s stuttering.
“Ugh,” With soft motions, you sway your hips, sliding a second finger inside and trying to reach as deep as you can.
Sometimes, Noir could be so sweet with you. He has a plentiful amount of loving nicknames that he used regularly with you. And when he was home, he was ever the doting partner. Everything you could ever want, he gave you. But more important than that, Noir gave you his time, his patience, his love. Things that ran low within him. But he saved every ounce of those traits for you, only you.
“I need you.”
Soon.
Your lover’s moans then become louder, longer, pumping himself with a rapid fist while watching your fingers disappear between your legs. He can see the tendons in your arm flex when you curl them, the ripple in your thighs when they tense. And he wants nothing more than to grab them, squeeze your sweet flesh and smack your ass until it’s tingly and red.
“Ngh,”
The sounds Noir makes force your heart rate to skyrocket, and you wish so desperately he were here to feel it, hear it. Noir loved to nuzzle into your neck, rub his nose over your pulse point and listen to your natural reactions with his heightened senses. Moments such as those created a safe space for uncommon intimacy between the two of you.
Want my mout on yyo
“I want that, baby. Fuck, I miss you. I want you so bad, Nori. I’ve really needed you.”
And when he hears these words, hears the emotion behind them, he almost can’t get to the keys fast enough.
I know baby. I know. I’m here, and I’ll be home soon
Home, the space you share with him, the space that lets your walls fall. Not just your own but his; that scary demeanor, cold and dark and ruthless to most. A terrifying shadow but to you, he’s your shadow, your protector and lover and everything good this world has to offer. When Noir is with you, it’s easy to feel safe and cared for; doting on you comes naturally to him.
“Promise?”
In response, your love lifts his left pointer finger to his covered lips. Then, he brings that same hand down to his other, landing on its open palm in a chop-like motion.
“I love you.”
I love you sweetheart
And then, there’s a pause. The heavy rise and fall of his chest draws your attention, his deep breath, the way his fist tightens around his shaft.
Now, let’s see my princess cum.
Thank you for ready lovelies!
Some noteworthy considerations...
I am very new to ASL (American Sign Language), but thought introducing it with Noir would be an interesting way to not only be more inclusive to my audience, but to challenge my writing style, too. Please let me know if I got anything wrong, or if you think I could have described something better in a different way! I want to be respectful to the Deaf Community and ASL users as a whole!
Lastly, all ASL interpretation pictures were made by me 😊
#Black Noir#I really need you#Noriiii#you're so sexy and cute#Black Noir x you#Black Noir x reader#Black Noir x female reader#Black Noir smut#Black Noir fluff#The Boys#The Boys fanfiction
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You ain't love me... yet - part 3 (Bo Sinclair x female reader)
Hello everyone ! Hope you'll enjoy the third part of story of Bo forcing you to fall in love with him <3 You can find the first part here and the second one here.
Warnings: no proof reading, mention of Stockholm syndrome, violence, angry!Bo, overprotective!Bo, obsessive!Bo, clingy!Bo, Bo killing a man for you, reader feeling scared and unsafe, mentions of sexual activity (explicit but no real description)
Like every morning, you woke to Bo gently kissing your face, with such softness you were starting to believe you were made out of glass. You didn’t want to enjoy it. You didn’t want to start thinking that Bo might be truly in love with you, and that he might be able to take care of you. But no one ever cuddled you with so much tenderness before. And it was nice, even if it was coming from a man whose hands were covered in blood. You often wondered why the Sinclairs were killing people, but you never asked the question and it seemed like the brothers were quite glad about it. They preferred to keep you away from this. To be honest, you had enough to deal on your own, without investigating the murders.
You also didn’t want to admit it but the Sinclairs weren’t that bad, to you, at least. You started to appreciate Vincent’s quiet and soft presence around you, and you started to freely chat around with Lester. But you were trying your best to remind yourself that if you were being friendly with them, it was only for them to let their guards down. No, you weren’t making friends here, you were manipulating them, that was it. Bo truly loved to come back to work and see you talking with Lester with real interest in your eyes. You were fitting in the family so well, without you noticing it. The brothers always kept an eye on you, because they saw the potential of your presence in their life. You might be able to make their family a functional one. Vincent and Lester were really eager to love you like a sister, especially when Bo was doing so much better now you were here. Bo could tell that his dream life with his dream girl was very close. He could see it, almost touch it. You all started to discover each other, and you more than once participated in the conversation during the family meal. You even started to learn ASL to fully understand Vincent.
But you kept telling yourself that you were simply playing a game to get out of this mess. No, you couldn’t enjoy your time here. They were bad people, they killed the ones you loved the most and they now kept you hostage, away from your own family and life. You couldn’t let Stockholm Syndrome get to you. You were better than this.
It was lunch time, and Bo was coming back home to cook something for his family. He was opening the front door when he finally heard it. He heard you laughing. He stopped, the door wide open, and he closed his eyes, just enjoying the sound of it. He could listen to it all day long. It brought so much joy from him; he felt a lot of tension go from his body. Of course, he hated that he wasn't the one able to make you laugh like that. And he hated it even more how you instantly stopped when you saw him entering the kitchen. You suddenly remembered where you were when you noticed his smirk. You couldn't enjoy yourself like that. Lester instantly tried to get your attention back on him, so you could relax once again. He knew his big brother was going to lose it if you didn’t finally accept to be one of them. He also knew he wasn’t going to have a very good time when Bo would corner him to question him.
And he was right about it.
Later on during the day, Bo sat down Lester at his garage and he interrogated his kid brother with feral insistence. He needed to know what his baby brother said to get such a reaction out of you. But Lester wasn’t too certain how to explain it without hurting Bo's feelings. You were such a sensitive subject.
“Don’t know, Bo. We were just chillin’ and chattin’ ‘round, that’s all.” he tried but it wasn’t enough for Bo.
“I’m also doin’ that with her, and it never worked before!” he cried out, anger rising inside of him because of the sadness and despair he truly felt.
“Well… She’s always on her guard when ya’re ‘round, ya know. I think she’s still quite scared of ya” Lester finally admitted. Bo didn’t answer, he simply stood up, grabbed the chair he used a few instant before and threw it at the wall. The chair broke down in a very loud noise that made Lester flinch. “I didn’t mean it that way” he tried to apologise
“Shut up, Lester!” Bo raged before leaving the garage. He wasn’t angry at Lester, he was angry at himself. He walked into Ambrose, trying to calm down. He couldn’t come back home in this state of mind. He knew Lester was right, but he had no idea how to show you you were safe by his side. He stayed quite silent the rest of the day, and it put you on edge, wondering what the man was thinking and planning. Vincent noticed how worried you got, and he tried very hard for his twin to come back to reality, in vain.
The next morning, Bo pressed you against the mattress as soon as you woke up. He promised himself he wasn’t going to let you go without knowing what he was supposed to do to make you laugh too. You couldn’t stop yourself from being even more scared than before when you saw how serious Bo seemed to be. The position was also making you feel very uncomfortable.
“I wanna make ya happy” he started “Ya were supposed to tell me how to do that” he told you, trying to not sound angry. He was simply desperate. You only shrugged, at loss for words. “No, no, Y/N.” he whined and you fought against the thought that it was almost cute of him.
“Let me sit up, you’re scaring me off right now” you said and he instantly moved from you. You sat in front of each other. You took a big breath, trying to think quickly. You could tell Bo wasn’t going to let go without an answer. “I like pretty things, I like books and I’m growing insane locked up inside the house” you finally said, hoping you could get to freely wander in Ambrose too. Bo internally cursed himself: gifts! How didn’t he think about gifting you jewels and all the good stuff he could find on his victims. He thought he should have been better at treating you like a little divinity. He was determined to find the perfect gifts that would make you smile, even just a little.
“Ok for ya to wander in Ambrose as long as ya stay in mine or my brothers’ line of vision and that ya come back home whenever someone comes in town” he said. It was better than nothing so you nodded and thanked him. He asked for a kiss that you gave him. “The world’s mad and violent, but ya’re safe with me, ya know. Don’t be scared of me no more. Haven’t I been good to ya so far?” he whispered against your lips. You wanted to reply that he killed your people, but it wouldn’t be a good answer. Indeed, to you, he had only been good, if you forgot about him tying you up at the beginning. But now you were playing his game, he was… more than decent. You found yourself nodding at him and he relaxed.
You started to discover Ambrose and you started to enjoy the silence of the place. It was appeasing compared to what you used to know in big cities. Or maybe your mind was tricking you so you wouldn’t start hurting yourself. You were scared you were losing your will to escape. You forced your brain to remember everything about the town so it would be easier for you to run away.
Or to live here forever.
As Bo decided, you were forced to come back “home” whenever “tourists” were arriving. Bo never agreed to play with them in front of you; he needed you out of the way. Not only because he was worried you would escape with them, but mostly because he was scared you would get hurt or even more scared of him and his brothers. You sometimes tried to convince him to keep you in the garage, but he never allowed it. Vincent and Bo agreed to never start a hunt as long as you weren’t locked up inside the house. You started to ask questions about the killing too, but no one answered you. Bo was always kissing you to make you shut up, Vincent was showing you his latest creations (drawings, paintings or little wax statues) and Lester would change the subject. You weren’t allowed in the House of Wax either, and you were very curious about it.
“Come on, Bo, why can’t I go in the only museum of Ambrose?” you pouted as you were sitting on his garage counter. Bo enjoyed having you at his shop a little more than he could ever admit it. And he had a lot of trouble denying you anything, but he didn’t want you to discover your friends turned into wax statues.
“Ain’t a place for ya, that’s all” he replied with a shrug.
“You’re no fun” you replied with a huff. It instantly made Bo stop working on the car he was leaning on. He came closer to you.
“‘Course I’m fun!” he exclaimed and you raised an eyebrow at him.
You were about to reply something when a car in a very bad shape came into view. You hopped from the counter and you both went out of the garage to greet the newcomer. Bo was ready for you to fight to stay around, but that day, you didn’t.
The man got out of the car and walked to the two of you. He had a very dark aura wrapped around him. His attention was quickly on you and he watched you with malevolent desire. You knew that kind of look, and you were glad Bo was there or you were certain the man would have hurt you in the worst way possible. You shiver in fear. Bo never touched you, even though it has been months you were sleeping in his bed and in his arms. Actually, you realised, at this moment, you were more afraid of that man than Bo. You had a little instinctive movement that made you come closer to Bo… for protection. You hugged him from the side. It was the first time you touched him that way, and he was quick to reciprocate the hug. It made him feel soft but he couldn't fully enjoy it because of the way the man was looking at you, even though he was answering Bo's questions. He kissed the top of your head.
“Go home, I’ll join ya when I'm done here, ‘kay?” he offered. You nodded and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Something inside of you wanted the newcomer to get you were Bo’s. You couldn’t even understand yourself as you left the garage and quickly went back to the house.
Bo made sure you were safely home before taking care of the man. You heard the newcomer scream in pain; Bo was usually trying to kill the tourists silently. Vincent and him agreed that it was better for you to not have to hear any of it. But that day, Bo was full of rage and violence. He didn’t even think about being quiet. He wanted the man to suffer for having looked at you that way and for having made you feel so unsafe. Ambrose was supposed to be your safe haven, not a nightmare.
Vincent checked on you to make sure you weren’t afraid, but you were actually very calm when he found you in the living room. You were trying not to enjoy the man’s agony. You could guess that Bo was even more cruel than usual… to protect you. You hated the warmth blossoming inside your chest. No one reacted that way to make you feel safe.
Maybe Bo was right; he was a killer so the safest place was by his side.
When he came back home covered in blood, you hated how you felt concern for him. You stayed silent as you helped him clean up and you put cream on his bruises as well. It was the first time you took care of him and Bo watched you looking after him with heart in the eyes.
You were a darling to him the rest of the day, you even agreed to sit on his lap to watch TV with him. You allowed him to be as clingy and as cuddly with you as he wanted to be. You were both relaxed and enjoying each other’s presence. Vincent and Lester didn’t disturb the two of you, realising something was finally happening. Now you weren’t tensing under his touch, you realised how amazing his hands felt on your skin. You even snuggled against his chest, on your own accord, for the first time ever, and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Bo was the happiest man on Earth.
“Told ya ya were safe with me” he murmured and you wanted to deny it, but you couldn’t.
“Ya were right” you let escape and Bo smiled a real and joyful smile.
It was the first time you had sex together too. You didn’t really know what happened but the kisses became more and more heated. And you had wanted him, like you had never wanted anyone else before. You forgot about everything else. You couldn’t even try to convince yourself it was just another step in your big plan to escape, because you knew you just found Bo very hot that day. You enjoyed how insanely protective he could be with you, and how he was ready to put someone into pieces for you. You didn’t want to like it, but maybe you liked an obsessive love, something no one else could give you but him. You even thought that it was alright that he killed your ex boyfriend because he hadn’t been able to fight for you like Bo did.
Your hands had moved down Bo’s body with greediness and Bo had relaxed under your touch, welcoming it. He wasn’t too sure where it would stop so he was letting you take the lead for once. He didn’t want to do something wrong, not when you were finally showing desire and trust to him. You undressed each other and you guided his hands on your breasts and then on your sex. Bo was good with his fingers and with his dick too. He asked you several times if you were sure it was what you wanted, even when you were riding him with burning passion. He was desiring you like a mad man, but he really didn’t want your first time together to be forced or to be a game. He wanted it to be real.
It was more real than you wanted to admit.
And after you both collapsed in each other’s embrace, spent, you fell asleep like you never did before.
--
Part 4
--
Taglist: @lacychick ; @adalwolfgang ; @hollabackgrl ; @number1120 ; @the-number7 ; @hisokas-cardz ; @iwantsleepplz
#house of wax (2005)#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x s/o#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x y/n#vincent sinclair x you#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair x sister#vincent sinclair x y/n#lester sinclair x sister#lester sinclair x reader#lester sinclair x you#lester sinclair x y/n#sinclair brothers x reader#slasher x s/o#slasher x you#slasher x reader#slasher x y/n
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Dreaming Of You
Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader
Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger
Summary:
You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.
Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?
Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.
Word Count: 13,100
Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
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List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything.
A/N: The first repost on this new blog! I am so excited about it. If you have any comments or questions about the fic, please let me know, and if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy this new version, and if you're reading it for the first time, I hope that it's a really excellent experience for you.
...
Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is.
It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts.
To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed.
To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation.
In reality, it was vastly different for you.
There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary.
From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind.
“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers.
Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people.
To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not.
Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly.
The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep.
The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind.
Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own.
Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally.
Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible.
Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.
But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in.
More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed.
Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan.
It had been a Saturday morning like any other.
Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle.
Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken.
But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened.
Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere.
So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan.
That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth.
That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know.
At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days.
Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping.
Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep.
You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way.
You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang.
Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question.
But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.
It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning.
Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day.
You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar.
He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.
When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early.
“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice.
Of course. He wanted a snack.
He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room.
Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that.
You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before.
You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination.
It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you.
He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into-
A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind.
You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen.
“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you.
It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight.
You needed time to think.
You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again.
…
It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before.
You had thought about it a lot, actually.
But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner.
It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display.
You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.
Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on.
But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken.
If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine.
And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come.
Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there.
But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose.
You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them.
Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer.
…
You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring.
Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter.
You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time.
If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon.
You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not.
As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming.
Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief.
“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you.
It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time.
At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count.
In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him.
In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand.
He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson.
As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him.
“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.”
You giggled, smiling to yourself.
…
It had been a few days since then.
And you had been strategically avoiding Gar.
At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions.
You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs.
You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend.
So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you.
Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate.
You had been doing just fine until another accident happened.
Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account.
You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf.
On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower.
What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor.
“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was.
You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again.
Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive.
“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you.
Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon.
You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look.
When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his.
And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze.
You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining.
You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone.
It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation.
The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so.
You had never thought you could be so… dreamy.
You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though.
As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-
You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back.
The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen.
You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room.
“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly.
Right. Your shower.
You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior.
You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident.
You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault.
Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked.
The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest.
In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with.
The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you.
…
Gar’s hands were all over you.
It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.”
His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly.
You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training.
“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow.
There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed.
As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes.
…
Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there.
More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him.
You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this.
But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it?
You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did.
Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you.
It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen.
Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken.
Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal.
…
“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.”
She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained.
You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment.
Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one.
You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed.
But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame.
The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room.
This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind.
But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead.
All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems.
Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone.
“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.”
You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place.
You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit.
“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar.
Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed.
“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.”
‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed.
Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you.
“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass.
Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react.
“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.”
‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him.
“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast.
Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you, and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel.
“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel.
‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more.
And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.
“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him.
‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified.
“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness.
‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.
Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.
“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you.
‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’
“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?”
‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained.
“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him.
“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk.
“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her.
“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet.
Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food.
Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged.
The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal.
Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it.
“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item.
…
You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would.
Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders.
Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game.
Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around.
“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?”
When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation.
It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy.
In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive.
He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock.
The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls.
You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on.
“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.”
“Y/N?”
This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream.
“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock.
Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace.
You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.”
Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia.
You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue.
‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question.
“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile.
“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.”
“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.”
“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.”
Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you.
‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled.
You nodded.
“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh.
It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you.
…
Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster.
Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of.
When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally.
You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over.
It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him.
You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back.
Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms.
“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him.
You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand.
You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people.
“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.”
You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally.
You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again.
“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.”
You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught.
It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle.
In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him.
“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.”
Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all.
“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.”
His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart.
Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down.
‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant.
He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed.
When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to.
You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you.
“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach.
You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth.
And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you.
As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did.
Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out.
‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him.
Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin.
“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake.
“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.
You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape.
“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.”
Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again.
You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time.
“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain.
It was intensely difficult for you to listen to.
It sliced through you like a knife.
Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong.
Tears pricked your eyes.
You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb.
He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness.
‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’
“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?”
He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind.
But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining.
This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective.
It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though.
You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems.
It was a specific night that you remembered well.
You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted.
You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit.
So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on.
When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you.
‘You can leave.’ You signed to him.
At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt.
A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place.
“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”
At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer.
You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself.
“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’
You ran from the room before he could confront you any further.
Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met?
Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead.
This crush was going to ruin you.
…
Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever.
The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress.
You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked.
You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up.
As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life.
Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name.
You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes.
He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover.
When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded.
Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game.
Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this.
But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you.
He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you.
This crush was going to ruin you.
Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off.
“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?”
Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind.
‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’
You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant.
But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around.
You really tried harder.
You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent.
Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury.
But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back.
Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing.
His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake.
In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will.
Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective.
No - you were in this.
Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it.
In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.
But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you.
The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you.
All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness.
You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy.
When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level.
And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:
‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’
And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch.
Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-”
Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours).
‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him.
You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you.
Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again.
Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger.
The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him.
Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?”
You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach.
After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him.
“I hate this.”
He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain.
“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…”
He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it.
“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!”
As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology.
But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer.
“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated.
He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out.
You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall.
At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest.
Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.
...
Keep Reading Here: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future
Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don't accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you've read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.
#sundrop writes#gar logan#garfield logan#gar logan x reader#garfield logan x reader#titans#dc titans#dc titans x reader#titans x reader#dc fanfiction#dc titans fanfiction#titans fanfiction
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Dreaming Of You
Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader
Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger
Summary:
You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.
Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?
Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut and (Slight) Angst. Set during Season 2.
Word Count: 13,100
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
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: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything.
A/N: I find it so ironic that this was freshly reposted on my other blog when I got shadowbanned. So let's try this again, shall we? At least this is beautifully edited and updated for your eyes. I think this is literally the perfect version of this fic with the new additional scenes. So if this is your first time reading it, please enjoy, and if you have read it before, I hope you can enjoy it again. And because I am back in my Titans era again - definitely stick around for more of my Gar bullshit. I love him with my whole heart, and there will definitely be more Gar stuff from me.
...
Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is.
It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts.
To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed.
To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation.
In reality, it was vastly different for you.
There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary.
From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind.
“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers.
Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people.
To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not.
Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly.
The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep.
The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind.
Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own.
Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally.
Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible.
Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.
But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in.
More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed.
Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan.
It had been a Saturday morning like any other.
Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle.
Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken.
But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened.
Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere.
So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan.
That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth.
That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know.
At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days.
Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping.
Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep.
You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way.
You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang.
Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question.
But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.
It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning.
Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day.
You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar.
He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach.
When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early.
“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice.
Of course. He wanted a snack.
He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room.
Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that.
You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before.
You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination.
It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you.
He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into-
A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind.
You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen.
“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you.
It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight.
You needed time to think.
You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again.
…
It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before.
You had thought about it a lot, actually.
But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner.
It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display.
You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.
Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on.
But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken.
If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine.
And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come.
Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there.
But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose.
You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them.
Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer.
…
You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring.
Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter.
You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time.
If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon.
You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not.
As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming.
Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief.
“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you.
It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time.
At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count.
In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him.
In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand.
He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson.
As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him.
“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.”
You giggled, smiling to yourself.
…
It had been a few days since then.
And you had been strategically avoiding Gar.
At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions.
You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs.
You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend.
So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you.
Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate.
You had been doing just fine until another accident happened.
Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account.
You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf.
On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower.
What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor.
“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was.
You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again.
Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive.
“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you.
Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon.
You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look.
When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his.
And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze.
You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining.
You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone.
It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation.
The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so.
You had never thought you could be so… dreamy.
You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though.
As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-
You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back.
The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen.
You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room.
“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly.
Right. Your shower.
You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior.
You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident.
You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault.
Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked.
The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest.
In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with.
The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you.
…
Gar’s hands were all over you.
It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.”
His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly.
You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training.
“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow.
There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed.
As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes.
…
Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there.
More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him.
You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this.
But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings.
But that was the thing, wasn’t it?
You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did.
Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you.
It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen.
Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken.
Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal.
…
“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh.
“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.”
She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained.
You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment.
Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one.
You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed.
But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame.
The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room.
This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind.
But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead.
All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems.
Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone.
“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.”
You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place.
You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit.
“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar.
Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed.
“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.”
‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed.
Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you.
“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass.
Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react.
“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.”
‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him.
“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast.
Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you, and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel.
“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel.
‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more.
And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.
“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him.
‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified.
“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness.
‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.
Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.
“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you.
‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’
“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?”
‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained.
“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him.
“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk.
“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her.
“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet.
Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food.
Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged.
The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal.
Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it.
“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item.
…
You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would.
Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders.
Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game.
Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around.
“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?”
When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation.
It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy.
In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive.
He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock.
The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls.
You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on.
“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.”
“Y/N?”
This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream.
“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock.
Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace.
You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew.
“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.”
Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia.
You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue.
‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question.
“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile.
“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.”
“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.”
“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.”
Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you.
‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled.
You nodded.
“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh.
It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you.
…
Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster.
Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of.
When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally.
You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over.
It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him.
You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back.
Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms.
“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him.
You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand.
You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people.
“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.”
You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally.
You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again.
“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.”
You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught.
It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle.
In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him.
“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.”
Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all.
“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.”
His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart.
Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down.
‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant.
He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed.
When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to.
You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you.
“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.”
A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach.
You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth.
And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you.
As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did.
Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out.
‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him.
Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin.
“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake.
“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up.
You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape.
“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.”
Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again.
You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time.
“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain.
It was intensely difficult for you to listen to.
It sliced through you like a knife.
Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong.
Tears pricked your eyes.
You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb.
He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness.
‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’
“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?”
He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind.
But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining.
This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective.
It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though.
You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems.
It was a specific night that you remembered well.
You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted.
You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit.
So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on.
When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you.
‘You can leave.’ You signed to him.
At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt.
A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place.
“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.”
At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer.
You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself.
“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry.
‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’
You ran from the room before he could confront you any further.
Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met?
Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead.
This crush was going to ruin you.
…
Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever.
The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress.
You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked.
You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up.
As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life.
Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name.
You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes.
He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover.
When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded.
Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game.
Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this.
But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you.
He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you.
This crush was going to ruin you.
Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off.
“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?”
Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind.
‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’
You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant.
But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around.
You really tried harder.
You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent.
Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury.
But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back.
Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing.
His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake.
In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will.
Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective.
No - you were in this.
Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it.
In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.
But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you.
The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you.
All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness.
You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy.
When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level.
And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:
‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’
And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch.
Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-”
Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours).
‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him.
You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you.
Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again.
Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger.
The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him.
Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you.
“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?”
You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach.
After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him.
“I hate this.”
He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain.
“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…”
He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it.
“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!”
As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology.
But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer.
“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated.
He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out.
You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall.
At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest.
Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.
...
Keep Reading Here: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future
#sundrop writes#dc titans#titans fanfiction#titans x reader#dc titans fanfiction#gar logan#gar logan x reader#garfield logan x reader#garfield logan
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To all my best friends, only twelve leagues and one text message away
1. Dearly Departed, Brockhampton. // 2. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion. // 3. unsent project. // 4. I am in Eskew. // 5. His dark materials. // 6. Where did you go? Hishaam Siddiqui. // 7. parts in motion, Vera Much. // 8. Your Name Engraved, Herein. 9. Hmu, spacegirl GEMMY.
Description follows
[ID: song lyrics reading, "What's the point of havin' a best friend if you / end up losin' him?" end ID]
[[ID: a photograph in the style of an early digital camera of two teenage girls cuddling under blankets on a couch watching something on a computer. end ID]
[ID: a poem reading, "Life changes fast. / Life changes in the instant. / You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends. end ID]
[ID: a fuzzy photograph in the style of an early digital camera of three people huddled around a fridge. All of the people have brown hair, glowing golden from the lighting and only one of their faces is turned toward the camera. end ID]
[ID: a text entry on a pink background reading, "To: Harry I / i've written 43 / poems about you. / come back and i / won't have to write anymore. / -asle" end ID]
[ID: a photograph in the style of an early digital camera of a couple in a photobooth with only their feet and legs visible behind the curtain. one is sitting on the other's lap. ]
[ID: text reading, "The problem is, my love, is that I can't sustain the fact of your death. / I can convince myself that it's true, force myself to picture your rotting, ruined face dumped in a mass grave somewhere out in the world... / ...and then my phone buzzes and I'm still expecting an unexpected message from you, telling me what corner of the globe you've holed up in, the foods you're eating, the card-players you're outwitting." end ID]
[ID: a photograph of two people in an aquarium, shot from behind. they stand in front of a large window showing a tank of water and seaweed. the two pose as if dancing grandiosely with no one else around. end ID]
[ID: a paragraph reading, "And it was comforting to think she and Will had another thing in common. She wondered if there would ever come an hour in her life when she didn't think of him- didn't speak to him in her head, didn't relive every moment they'd been together, didn't long for his voice and his hands and his love. She had never dreamed of what it would feel like to love someone so much; of all the things that astonished her in her adventures, that was what astonished her the most. She thought the tenderness it left in her heart was like a bruise that would never go away, but she would cherish it forever." end ID]
[ID: a photograph from behind of a group of people walking together down a city street. two of the people have their arms around each other shoulders. another two link arms. the image is slightly blurry. end ID]
[ID: a couplet reading, "One day I woke up and we no longer spoke the / same language. I haven't heard from you since." end ID]
[ID: a photograph of two people, focused on one in the foreground. A young woman looks lovingly towards something out of frame, her face resting on the meat of her hand. In the background a man looks away towards another subject. The lighting is dreamy and yellow. end ID]
[ID: lyrics reading, "Show me it all / Tell me what's wrong / You got your hard drive stolen / Your phone's been broken / Play me a song off of mine / Show me it all / Show me a rise / Show me a fall / Pay me no mind / Paint me in gold / I don't mean to pry, but give me a call" end ID]
[ID: a gif from the movie 'Your Name Engraved Herein' of Birdy and A-han riding a motorbike through the streets at night. Both smile widely as they breeze along, Birdy sitting behind A-han with his shirt off over his head, yelling happily. End ID]
[ID: lyrics reading, "They say everything has reason / Life fluctuates like seasons / And maybe someday soon we'll both find our reason / But bitch you're still the bro / Never letting go / Of the friendship bracelets we made when we were twelve // I'll be waiting by my phone / For you to hit me up / For you to hit me up / Hit me hit me up" end ID]
[ID: a photograph of a plaque on an outside wall reading, "LIFE HAPPENS BUT I STILL CARE FOR YOU. I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL." end ID]
#web weaving#parallels#comparatives#brockhampton#i am in eskew#vera much#his dark materials#the unsent project#back on my quest to make people cry in the brockhampton tag apparently#the caption is a reference to the epic of gilgamesh#when gilgamesh has to cross twelve leagues of darkness to get to the realm of heaven/the gods#but uh yeah madilyn i hate you (your dad) for moving away and im so happy you escaped and we didn't die but i fucking miss you and i hat#that you're taller than me its rude#that spacegirl gemmy song makes me crazy fr though#also listen to vera much. now <3
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I have a request. Im going deaf and use asl. Can you write a fanfic with Joel or Marcus or Frankie or Javi G being married to a deaf woman? Falling in love dating and marrying? Post outbreak? It can be trying at times for me to date. And I love the smut and fluff 😜 thanks
Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
A/N: Hi honey! I'm so sorry for the delay and I hope things are going alright for you! You are very strong and I'm sorry this isn't better, I don't have experience with this situation so I didn't really want to write something inaccurate ❤️
• when Joel first got into Jackson, he didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, he was busy, pissed, exhausted and he didn't know what to think, however, you still caught his attention when he was having a proper meal for the first time in a long time
• and he was impressed by the fact you were so pretty; he couldn't even remember the last time he saw someone as pretty as you, but eventually, he shrugged it off and left town
• but when he returned and decided to stay for good, he would have to adapt himself to living in a sort of normal society, so Tommy helped him through and gave him brief descriptions of each citizen
• and the moment Tommy mentioned you, he immediately felt a connection with you, at least to some level, after all, you were going deaf and he was deaf in one ear
• he didn't remember meeting anyone who could relate to him in that matter over the years so that was interesting
• the next time he spotted you in town, he made up an excuse so he could talk to you and that was the moment he found out you communicated by sign language
• he felt so dumb at that moment because he wanted to introduce himself, tell you he understood your condition and perhaps throw some charm, why not? 😉
• so he was pretty happy to know you had a class in Jackson, only to teach people how to use ASL and he signed up
• much to his own surprise, Joel was actually a fast learner and he became your most dedicated student and it didn't take him long to actually be able to talk to you
• and you both hit off, as he told you some things about his life and you told him about yours
• and soon enough he asked you out though he didn't admit it was a date and rather just a drink between friends, you both knew it was a date
• and you didn't take very long to soften up that old broken heart of his, not after he realized he was in love with you
• he went through his options: ignore the feeling, or he could give himself a break and be happy for once
• he chose the later and you both tied the knot in a beautiful and small ceremony, surrounded by your closest friends
• life was good again for Joel, he had a loving wife to come home to every day and he felt reassured he could taste happiness one more time
____
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal headcanons#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller headcanon#joel miller headcanons
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12 YEAR OLD OCS; SIDE A
Cupid [@onitekka] (she/her)
Cupid is like every normal middle school student, a pink-haired half-vampire totally not crushing on her girl best friend, seemingly born from every weird twelve year olds innate wish: make a video game.
Cupid journeys through the depths of hell to rescue her "girl best friend" (very subtle) from the evil Dark Overlord Xanata, who sealed her best friend into a crystal because she Also wants to be Cupid's "girl best friend".
she boasts a variety of super cool barely vampire related attacks that involve just straight up yelling at enemies! this girl has a sonic screech that can shatter glass, bulletproof bat wings, and a literal gun! you can practically hear angel with a shotgun (nightcore) blasting in the background.
why is the embodiment of love a vampire? because vampires are now ostensibly fallen angels. why is she fighting hell if she's a fallen angel? because it's cool.
Description: A beginner's illustration of Cupid. she has messily coloured short pink hair with two longer strands in the front, red eyes, a fuschia top, and a green skirt. she is also wearing black boots, and part of her bat wings are coloured black as well. there is blood dripping from her mouth.
Ash [@changeling-ash] (she/her)
She is so cool. My little self insert. My baby. Epic powerful magic.
Ash was part of a secret subspecies of humans (Homo sapiens dimutus) which could shapeshift, which she used to grow huge black wings or turn into a black leopard or look like a monster to scare enemies, anything as long as her brain stayed the same size or got denser to fit smaller. When she shapeshifted she would release green and blue fire from the power of the transformation (cause she has lots of copper in her blood that burns green. To protect against cancer, you see. Shapeshifting has lots of cancer risk so copper is sooo important)
She became one by genetic engineering at 15 so the dimutus could get more soldiers and spies for a war with the demon-like psyuedos (child soldier lol). She could come back to life because she had a failsafe that would activate where she would shapeshift away the wound and her brain would jolt back online. The only way to kill a dimutus was to kill the brain.
Like other dimutus, she could also dimension hop, so she'd travel the multiverse, from tv show to tv show or to the universe with dragons or with cool landscapes. She was good with a sword and something called a bladed quarterstaff, which is basically one of those two sided lightsabers but a blade. She was mentored by one of the most powerful dimutus of the war and is super powerful too compared to other dimutus.
Propaganda from the old post
Okay time for my propaganda once more!
Ash is my girl, my baby.
She has TWO dragons. The first one is Flicker, who is strong and agile with black scales and a violet belly. Ash rides on her back and she speaks dragon at her. Her other dragon is Zephyr, who she raised from an egg and he looks like a blue sky with white patches like clouds, and random little flecks of gold scales. He's lithe and fast and so agile. She can summon them from their alternate universes by calling out "Tul Lüg" for Flicker and "Zep-iagh" for Zephyr, and they leap from portals to fight.
She can speak so many languages. The language of Dimutus is actually Modernized Latin. She knows English, Spanish, French, Latin, Italian, ASL, and has the best translators.
She made friends with a shadowy wolf companion called a Shadowlupe who accepted her as part of the pack. She runs with him in hunts as a wolf.
She can do a double backflip. Enough said.
She would fly with huge black wings, it was her favorite thing to do. Knew how to do all the tricks. She is dimension hopping miles in the air just to fall for ages, then fly at breakneck speeds. And she was terrifying in battle, she would dodge and weave and slash as she passed, an airborne killing machine.
She could give herself big springy legs to jump so high and do crazy tricks. She adapted herself to move fast, bounce and parkour her way at insane speeds. She could traverse so well.
She also did normal parkour. It was a fun challenge to try with minimal modifications. Pretended a lot of parkour POV vids were her.
She had two cats trained to infiltrate bases cause they are kitties and can fit through the vents and no one suspects the kitties. Baya was a Bengal and Shadow was a beautiful medium hair black cat.
She could also dimension hop in a way that was like astral projecting. She'd just be floatin, near invisible. She'd keep her wings in that state to pull them from the dimension fast to use them quickly. Her friends would chill there and comment to her while she was doing boring things.
She had a ragtag best friend and copilot partner Katie that was the mostest important person to her. Her brother in arms, her guy in the chair, her support, and Ash was the same to Katie. They were ride or die, and they died a lot for each other. (I basically made a QPP a decade before I myself ended up in one. Probably an early sign I was aro.)
She lost her arm sometimes, and she'd have a badass prosthetic if she couldn't shapeshift it back right away.
So much trauma from being a child soldier will come later. Her future character with me a decade later is somethin.
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May I so very humbly ask thee for hc’s for the goodest boi (loui <3)? 👁️👁️
*like I tell the other kind folk round’ here, don’t feel forced and/or rushed to answer this 🩴*
Loui!!! Pelican boi!
Birthday: Unknown date in 1699 (Uses April 30 as birthday). Formation of Louisiana Territory. 325 years old (as of 2024).
Parent: Kingdom of France
Human name: Louis Beaufoy
Human age: approx 27 yrs old
Sexuality: Pansexual
Gender: Genderqueer (uses all pronouns)
Description: 5'1. One blue, one gold eye, both flecked with white. Very dark brown long curly hair (down to mid back. Sometimes worn as dreads). Dark brown skin with star shaped freckles.
Languages: English, Spanish, ASL, Cajun French, Louisiana Creole, French, Cajun English. Some understanding of Portuguese, and Tagalog.
Scars/deformities/disorders: Alligator bite scar on forearm. Large scars on shoulders (from many hurricanes and floods), Limp from bombing of the levees at Caernarfon. Deaf in left ear from 1982 Pan am flight 759Animal/Unusual attributes: Lion and Pelican feature. Lion ears, tail and teeth. Pelican wings, tail feathers, ankle feathers, scales on feet . Freckles can glow due to old and current flag having a star.
Silly facts: Plays the trumpet and cajun accordion. Supreme cook of the south. Owns a potted magnolia and has named it Maggie. Really good at making beads and jewelry. Own a Catahoula Leopard Dog named Dizzy, he's such a good boy.
https://louisiana-anthology.org/texts/bonham/bonham--flags_of_louisiana.html
^^Old flags of Louisiana :]
Thats it. Buh bye
#wttt#welcome to the table#wttsh#welcome to the statehouse#wttt louisiana#wttsh louisiana#Manchineel rambles#headcanons#:]#here ya go#again just general hcs
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hello! i'm loving your krang infection comic and can't wait to see where the story goes! since you have asked before, i would love if you could put what donnie signs in the tags! (or wherever you want to put it).
main reason is that i do know some sign language, but since i'm from brazil, some signs are different much like the language haha. but! everytime he signs i still love to compare asl with libras! i think it's very informative and makes me want to learn more asl!
anyways sorry this was a bit long, i hope you have a wonderful day!
love from brazil :) ♡
Thanks!
I will be sure to leave the asl translation somewhere. That way it'll be easier to correct any mistakes I make as well.
Sign language is so cool. Different in every country and those who use it might also have something like an accent (would that be the right description?)
My sister taught herself Dutch sign language because a customer at her job used it and often stopped by. She taught me a few signs, but all I remember is how to sign 'guinea pig' 😅
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Twenty Questions: Fic Author Edition
tagged by @professionalfangrrl and @no-where-new-hero Thank you!
1-How many works do you have on ao3?
23. Since tumblr is such a mess I try to even post my drabbles there.
2-What's your total AO3 word count?
303,924 (literally how is it that many??)
3-What fandoms do you write for?
The Hunger Games, The Office, and The Blue Castle. Back on ff.net I also had one fic for Twilight and one for Persuasion, though these are no longer posted and I don't have plans to re-post them.
4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Katniss Wants Kisses
I Do
Sing You Back Home
The Only One
Better Man
5-Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
99% of the time, yes, at least on ao3. I don't always if someone replies to my reply, lol. It's a delight to respond to readers! Especially those that take time to comment.
6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
The angstiest ending I've written is I Do, probably. It's an AU taking place in a similar situation to Mockingjay so I'd say it's fairly equivalent in terms of death and trauma.
7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
The True Name, I'd say. As a Blue Castle fanfic, The True Name sticks with the canon super fairy tale ending.
8-Do you get hate on fics?
I did get one call-out comment on ao3 for a post I'd made here on tumblr, but other than that I don't remember any negative comments on ao3. I for sure got hate on ff.net all those years ago. It was rare in comparison to the positive comments, but I got PMs for I Do that I would consider hate, and some more critical comments on that one. I did get a straight-up anon hate comment directed toward me, the author, not the work, on Roses and Pearls the first time I posted it on ff.net, but the person ended up PMing me and apologizing which was big of them.
9-Do you write smut? If so what kind?
I have written explicit smut that I haven't published and "M" rated smut that is mild and I have published. And some fade-to-black. I'm trying to get more comfortable in this area though I don't think I'll ever be an author someone goes to for smut.
10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I am currently working on a Hungers Game/Hadestown crossover and I am breaking my creative brain to work it.
11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of. I haven't looked for it and no one has alerted me to any. I know some of my deleted work exists in personal libraries, but I don't care as long as those aren't shared publicly.
12-Have you ever had a fic translated?
I Do was translated into Chinese and Russian as far as I remember. I think some of the old Roses and Pearls was translated into Chinese also. My old deleted fic Sing For Me might have been translated as well? Not aware of/remember any others!
13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Nothing that's been published.
14-What's your all-time favorite ship?
Everlark. They are my true, ultimate OTP.
15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
Ah a call-out! Probably Both Sides Now. I'd like for it to be finished, but you know, there are some things that just like that.
16-What are your writing strengths?
You want me to compliment myself?! Well, I like writing dialogue and a comment I often get is that I write in-character for my fics, which is something I strive to do.
17-What are your writing weaknesses?
My prose. I have to think real hard about that stuff. I feel my prose is very cliche and pedestrian, and anything that isn't comes from my blood, sweat, and tears to make it decent. The atmosphere of my writing especially suffers for this.
18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I wrote some descriptions of ASL for Both Sides Now as I made Lavinia deaf in that fic. I took four semesters of ASL in college so I felt comfortable with that, but other than maybe some Spanish I otherwise would only feel comfortable using someone's help with the translation.
19-First fandom you wrote for?
Wrote for would be The Hunger Games. I would "write" fanfiction in my head since I was a little kid and Sabrina and Harvey broke up on Sabrina the Teenage Witch but first actual writing was The Hunger Games. Waiting for Mockingjay to be released was a bitch and got me started.
20-Favorite fic you've ever written?
Following my heart, I have to go with Sing You Back Home. I put a lot into it, including my own tears. As an Everlark shipper its premise is very important to me--Prim lives and so Katniss and Gale don't have a falling out and it's confirmed again and again that no matter what, Everlark would have happened anyway.
Tagging: @bodyelectric77 @jenniferiawrence @katnissmellarkkk @adsosfraser @caesarflickermans @browneyeddevil and anyone else I might be forgetting!
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My Voice Is Broken So I Don't Use It Anymore
What is the Search Term for That?
I began losing functionality of my voice about three years ago. It would happen for a few days at a time, usually when the seasons started to change so I just assumed it was some kind of perfectly normal seasonal hoarseness. It happened to me again in September 2023, but this time it stayed way longer than a few days. It has now been five months since my voice stopped working and I don't think it's coming back. It got on a plane to Peru and said, "See ya!" I've written about my voice loss in previous posts which you can read here and here.
Now that can no longer use my voice like I used to, I've been trying to find some level of community online. Because it turns out, just creating OCs that can't speak, or have difficulty speaking, isn't as fulfilling as I hoped it would be. Curse my needs for occasional social connection! The trick to finding community online is to figure out the correct search terminology that will help get me connected to others.
I started with "spasmodic dysphonia" because that's what the ENT specialist told me I have. Found some information but very few people. I expanded to "laryngeal dystonia", which didn't really take me much further. It did inform me, however, that a panel of experts decided it is the preferred term over "spasmodic dysphonia". Then I thought since I don't talk anymore, I could try using "nonverbal" as a search term. It got me a whole bunch of information on autism, but I am not autistic so that's not going to be the right search term for me. (I am ADHD though.)
So then I thought, "Okay, what is the most generalized concept I could use that is still reasonably accurate to my issue here?" The term "mute" is an option I suppose, but it might be a little too general. Plus it has some negative connotations. Even the dictionary says it's "dated or offensive" in terms of describing someone who cannot speak. Eventually it dawned on me I could simply use "speech disorder" as a search term. I didn't use it at first because I didn't think it was accurate, but I gave it a try. Hey! Look! There's my people!
I'm Astrid. I'm almost 50 (whoa). I have laryngeal dystonia and lost use of my voice only five months ago. Yes, communication now is more challenging, but I'm finding workarounds. And ya know, I actually quite enjoy not talking. I'm learning ASL (American Sign Language) and I absolutely love it! I use my phone to write messages if needed, or good old fashioned pencil and paper whenever I feel thumb typing might take too long.
So if your ability to speak is impeded in some way and/or you use alternative forms of communication for whatever reason, from a pencil and paper, to an AAC device, to sign language, I see you! I finally found the right search term and I see you! You rock!
[image description]
Hipster Ariel wears thick-framed black glasses, a green scarf around her neck, a lavender shirt, and a matching lavender starfish in her side-braided red hair. From her right ear hangs a bespoke dinglehopper earring. Ariel sweeps her hair over her left shoulder revealing on her right shoulder a stylized tattoo of a seahorse. In her left hand she holds up a pink mobile phone with text on it in large letters reading, "voices are overrated".
[/image description]
#speech disorder#laryngeal dystonia#spasmodic dysphonia#speech loss#neurodivergent#sign language#hipster ariel
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#asl#signlanguage#americansignlanguage#hoh#deafpride#deafcan#tiktokcreator#deaf#deafawareness#deafculture
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Deaf Representation in Media (Image Description Included)
Full Disclosure, I am a Hearing woman so all information in these slides are from online Deaf resources (I linked below), but if anything is inaccurate or needs tweaking please let me know! I’ve also never written out the Image Descriptions so please let me know if I need to fix anything!
[ID 1: Four hands using ASL to spell out “Deaf.” The background has various still images of people signing “I love you,” Fingerspelling “Hawkeye,” and a title card from a show reading “The Boy from 6B.”
Then reads “Representation in Media” / end ID1]
[ID 2: Stock Photo of mother and child with Hearing Aids.
There is a statistical chart in the bottom left corner that reads “New Study of Hearing Loss among US adults aged 20 to 69. Who has hearing loss? 14% of adults aged 20-69 in 2011-2012. Prevalence of hearing loss has declined slightly from about 16% in 1999-2004.”
The caption around the picture reads “What is Representation? Representation is the portrayal of another culture or people/person in media that is done respectfully and not stereotyped.
Why is Deaf representation so important? Approximately 48 million Americans have some degree of hearing loss (Hearing Loss Association of America). Good Deaf and Hard of Hearing Representation can be very validating to those in the community because they can see themselves in these characters. Accurate representation can be educational for people outside the Deaf community to learn more about it in a non-stereotyped way.” / end ID 2]
[ID 3: Photo of the National Association of the Deaf logo.
The caption over the logo reads “ According to the National Association for the Deaf (NDA) proper media portrait of deafness should include:
The production should be accessible. Clear cooperation between Deaf individuals and all media personnel, interpreters, etc.
All terminology, when referring to Deaf or Hard of Hearing people, should be up-to date and not offensive.
All descriptions of Deaf individuals should be based on the people’s personalities and not be patronizing by including terms like they are “overcoming,” “inspiring,” “special,” etc.
Media should listen to the knowledge and ideas from those in the Deaf or Hard of Hearing communities, and not from those outside the community (even if meant well).
Media should make conscious steps to work with the other groups a Deaf individual might be part of such as other cultures, religions, ethnicities, sexualities, etc.
All media should be made accessible and available for all Deaf and Hard of Hearing folks.
/End ID 3]
[ID 4: In the Background is the poster for the movie “Coda.” Four people are looking into the camera and holding up the sign for “I love you.”
The caption over the poster reads “Recently, there has been an increase in the general public’s interest in Deaf stories with the success of the Movie “CODA” (2021)... But we still have a long way to go with Deaf Rep…” /end ID 4]
[ID 5: The image shows two sheets taken from the Deaf West theater. One shows What TV genres see the most and least Deaf representation? While the other is on what types of Deaf characters have hearing audiences seen represented in media.
At the top the caption reads “According to NRG and the Deaf West Theater…”
The caption below the charts reads “Depending on the type or genre of media an individual consumes may determine how much exposure they get to seeing Deaf people represented.
Even within the already small portion of Deaf people represented, there are even smaller subsections of minorities shown less in the Media.” /end ID 5]
[ID 6: The screen shot is of the NRG webpage article “NRG and Deaf West Theatre release roundtable film on Deaf representation”
The caption above the image reads “Linked below is a video from NRG and The Deaf West Theater where they are interviewing Deaf people in the creative industry (Writers, directors, actors, ect.) talking about their experiences with and the state of Deaf representation in today’s media. https://www.nrgmr.com/our-thinking/entertainment/nrg-and-deaf-west-theatre-release-roundtable-film-on-deaf-representation/” /end ID 6]
[ID 7: Caption at the top reads “Good examples of Deaf representation!”
Below we have pictures of 4 different Deaf characters. On the top left is Theo from Only Murders in the Building. Top right is Jackie from Craig of the creek. Bottom left is Marvel comics Hawkeye. And on the bottom left is Daphne from Switched at birth. /end ID 7]
[ID 8: Caption at the top reads “My personal favorite… Linda Bove (Sesame street from 1971-2002)”
Below the caption are 16 pictures of Linda throughout her time while on sesame street. Mostly she is with her co-star Bob. /end ID 8]
youtube
Resources:
#deaf representation#deafawareness#deafness#deafculture#image description in alt#image description added#deaf representation in media#deaf#deaf community#image described#ID#Linda bove#Linda Sesame Street#Jackie Craig of the creek#Theo only murders in the building#craig of the creek#sesame street#only murders in the building#hawkeye#switched at birth#Daphne switched at birth
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Okay besties I am 25K words into this House of Wax fic. I’ll post the first part tonight when I get home from work. But wanted to give y’all some insight-
1.) This has my OCs in it as the main girlies. This is not a reader insert as I usually write. The girls are named (Catherine aka Katie and Caroline) and have descriptions.
2.) This is 100% a slasher fucking story. It’s the Sinclairs there will be trigger warnings posted at the start of each post but you can blanket each chapter with - kidnapping, forced marriage, dub-con, attempted non-con, abuse (physical, emotional, mental), Stockholm syndrome, age gap (Bo/Vincent birthday according to their Wiki is Sept 18, 1970 and I have the girls as March 5, 1985) the start of this story is about a year before the movie takes place which is 2005 so this is 2004 in late August making the girls 19 and Sinclairs 33 about to be 34.
3.) I hc Vincent as having the ability to speak it’s just super hard between the way his face is scared and the mask being basically molded to his face, so for the most part he writes everything down but there are moments where he speaks.
4.) The girls know ASL (American sign language) as their father was deaf. This is brought up a few times. I myself am a hearing person but my roommates mom is deaf and my roommate is a sign interpreter. As well as I took ASL for years in college just did not stick with it to become fluent.
5.) Sort of religious trauma if you squint your eyes really hard, the girls are from the Deep South Georgia and were raised by a traditional southern Mama so there are times when during smut scenes they think and say they are going to hell for having sex, falling in love with murders, etc.
6.) I hc Bo as having a very trauma based feelings towards his mother. A lot of internal hatred but also he just wants to make her proud. He visits her in the church every Friday and compares Caroline to her a lot but always says Caroline is better.
I have no idea how long this will end up being. I’ll get a master list set up once I get a few chapters posted. I think I have like 8 parts now- 4 for each couple. I have it written so one chapter POV is Vincent/Katie and the next is Bo/Caroline.
#house of wax 2005#house of wax#bo sinclair#vincent sinclair#slasher#slasher fic#house of wax fic#brian van holt#slasher fanfic#fanfic#horror#horror fic#horror fanfic#house of wax fanfic
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