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leafsbabe · 2 years

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Joe Burrow - BURROW on your back (smut)

after your first Bengals game your husband gets just a little bit possessive 4.7k

“Are you excited?”

Your husband's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, making you jump slightly. You loved Joe with all your heart but he really needed to stop sneaking up on you. He stepped closer, bringing an arm about your middle and hooking his chin over your shoulder so he could look at the two of you together in the big mirror you were standing in front of, anxiously picking at your outfit.

“Yeah.” Hoping a smile would distract him from your obvious lie you flashed him a quick one in the mirror. Judging by his expression that didn’t work though.

Joe turned his head slightly, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck just below your ear.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice low.

“Nothing.” You answered back, turning around in his arms so you were looking up at him.

You had never been a fan of big crowds and strangers. Ever since you were a little kid you tried to avoid large groups of people, preferring to just stay home or go out in smaller groups with a few close friends. Joe had never faulted you for it and understood that you couldn’t cheer for him from the stands like some of his teammates' significant others did. He was just as happy for you to curl up in front of the tv at home and watch as he won games for you. You eventually went to a few games back in college although it was a rare occurrence.

Now Joe was already in the second season of his pro career and you had yet to watch a Bengals game in the stadium. You tried to work up the confidence to go out, meet the team and their families, and enjoy watching your husband play the game he loved but so far you always backed out. It was just too much.

“Are you not feeling well?” He gave you a concerned look before raising a hand to gently cup your face. His thumb softly stroked your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into it. “You don’t have to come, honey. I know it stresses you out. If you want you can stay here and watch from home, or don’t watch at all and just take a nice long bath.”

“No, no, I said I would come.”

“Okay if you’re sure. You look cute.”

Looking down at your large Burrow jersey you couldn’t help but agree. You had stolen it from Joe’s part of the closet but it definitely looked better on you. Most of his clothes did.

“Had to make sure I rep my favorite team. And this one coincidentally had my name across the back so why not.” You turned around in his arms again so that your back was to his front, making it really easy for him to see the big BURROW on your back.

You felt Joe trace the letters, running his finger over the fabric and you couldn’t help but smile at the gentle gesture.

“It looks great on you.” He complimented you again before he turned serious. “Are you really sure you want to come?”

Instead of talking you just nodded, hoping that the nonverbal gesture did more to convince Joe than words could. It’s just one little game, not the first of the season, not against a big rival, nothing that should draw in unusually large crowds. You could do this.

“If you want we can leave now, get there before the crowds.” Your husband suggested. “I can walk you up to the box and everything. It’s gonna be a while before the game starts but then you won’t have to deal with so many people.”

Leaving now before you could change your mind sounded like a good idea, once you were there you would just have to deal with it, so you quickly agreed and soon found yourself in the passenger seat of his car as you made your way towards the stadium.

You could feel yourself getting more nervous but Joe seemed to notice too and put his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze in an attempt to calm you down. It helped a little bit and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for having a caring husband that could pick up on your discomfort. The radio was softly playing as Joe drove the two of you to the stadium.

Your anxiety didn’t lessen as he parked and exited the car, walking around to open your door for you and help you out. Neither did it when he walked you through the stadium, pointing out a few corners he deemed interesting, holding your hand in his and stroking his thumb across the back of your hand in an attempt to soothe you. It wasn’t long before the two of you reached the suite reserved for the families of players. It was still empty and Joe let go of your hand to motion for you to look around.

“The others should come in a bit. I tried to ask the guys if their families would come and a lot of the wives and girlfriends can’t come today so you’re not going to meet everybody. Although maybe that’ll make today easier.”

It would make things easier.

You felt so thankful that Joe didn’t push you that far outside your comfort zone, always trying to keep your feelings in mind. He led you to a seat that was at the side of the suite, close to a wall, a little hidden in the big room. When you sat down it was comfortable and you really thought that you could handle this game.

“Can you see well?” He asked, before immediately blocking your view with his strong body.

“I see everything I want to see.” You tease back, laughing as he smiled down at you.

Joe looked around the room for a second and you already knew what was coming. You weren’t the biggest fan of PDA but occasionally you could be enticed when nobody was around. It was easy to close your eyes in anticipation of a quick kiss. His lips only stayed on yours for a second, a touch so light it would have made you question if you dreamed it up had you not known it was about to happen.

“See you after the game?”

You nodded a slight smile on your lips. You didn’t even have to force yourself this time. It’s only going to be a few hours.

Watching Joe walk out of the door didn’t make you feel anxious for once. You got this.

As much as it pained you to admit it, watching the game from the stadium was fun. The suite was mostly empty with the exception of a handful other partners and an adorable little toddler with bright orange bows in her hair. It didn’t feel overwhelming to sit together and talk while watching the game. Nobody asked too many questions and the small talk didn’t veer into awkward territory. You even let yourself get roped into being in a group picture, smiling at the camera alongside the other women.

Although the game only lasted a few hours it felt like eternity. Even though you had fun your social battery was running out and you could feel it. After the game was over it didn’t take long for the others to gather their things to get ready to leave. You stayed in your seat while you watched them get up and walk towards the door.

“Do you want to head down with us?” One of them asked, a smile on her lips.

“I think I’m gonna wait up here a little longer.” You answered, unsure if you should tell her the whole story even though you had just met her a few hours ago. “I’m not so good with crowds and Joe said he would come get me after the game so I don’t want to worry him by wandering off.” You settled on a half truth.

“Oh okay. Well it was really nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see you at another game this season?”

“Yeah.” You smiled back, watching as the last of the others left, leaving you alone in the suite once again.

Joe didn’t leave you waiting for long. You knew it would take a while for him to get changed after the game but he was walking into the family suite surprisingly soon.

The sound of the door opening loudly made you jump in your seat slightly but you calmed down once you saw that it was just your husband. The look on his face wasn’t as cheerful as you had suspected it would be after a game but you didn’t mind. He still looked as handsome as ever.

“The game was amazing.” You couldn’t help but blurt out, a little positively overwhelmed from everything. Wrapping your arms around his neck you hugged him close. “You played so well, I’m so proud of you. Thank you for convincing me to come.”

“I’m glad you had fun, baby.” He said with his arms around you. It sounded a little quiet but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions yet. If something was bothering Joe he would tell you. “Are you ready to head out? I know a way down to the parking lot that barely anybody uses so we’d be on our own.”

“Yes please.” You just smiled back. You weren’t lying when you told Joe you had a good time at the game but you were more than ready to head home. It’s only been a few hours but you longed for the familiarity of your home.

The drive back to your house was mostly silent with the exemption of the car radio which played some kind of top 40s station. You were just wondering whether you should just ask Joe about what was obviously bothering him which he still hadn’t brought up when he spoke up on his own.

“I’m sorry that I'm in a mood.” He said, not taking his eyes off the road.

Reaching over you put one of your hands on his muscular thigh, giving it a little squeeze, offering him silent support to keep talking.

“You took a picture with the other wives, right?” Joe asked.

“Yeah. They were really nice and said I don't have to if I don't want to and that they don’t want to pressure me but I thought it would be nice to have some pictures of my first game.”

“You looked amazing. And I know you looked amazing because one of the girls posted the picture and I had to listen to the guys tease me for half an hour. Talking about my ‘smoking hot girl’ and that it’s ‘no wonder I don’t let you out of the house because I’m scared you’re going to find somebody better’ and I hated every second of it. I don’t like them talking about you that way.” His voice was quiet and tense as he spoke.

You could see how tense he was, muscles flexing and his knuckles turning white from the way he was gripping the steering wheel. “Did they say anything bad?” It came out a little pitiful but you couldn’t help it. For the entire day you had been so worried about what the other family members would think that it hadn’t even occurred to you to worry about his teammates. What if they thought badly of you?

“No!” Joe answered immediately. “They were just… they were talking about how hot you are and I didn’t like that.”

His face looked completely red and you knew from experience just how deep that blush went. It was cute to see him all worked up about this.

“Awww. Are you jealous Joe?”

“No!” He responded way too quickly before relenting, “Yes…You’re my wife and they shouldn’t say shit about how hot you are. That’s my job.”

“I love it when you’re so protective.” You told him, giving his thigh another squeeze.

The two of you stayed silent the rest of the short car ride, both lost in your own thoughts. The game was amazing and even though the stress of it all made you feel a little exhausted you wanted to show him just how much you appreciate him for making you go. For pushing you out of your comfort zone just a little while always being there as a shoulder to lean on if things got rough and having your back when you choose a tactical retreat.

By the time the car pulled into the driveway you had come up with an idea on how to cheer Joe up. It would be a lie to say that seeing him all possessive didn’t turn you on so why not roll with that.

Joe got out first and -always the gentleman- jogged around the car to open your door for you and help you out. He was still a little tense but you could fix that in no time.

“You should take another shower.” You suggested as soon as the door to your house fell shut.

Your husband just gave you a questioning look before giving his shirt a quick sniff. “Do I smell that bad? I already took a shower at the stadium.”

“Yeah but the showers at the stadium don’t have the expensive shampoo you like to use or super hot naked wives to wash your hair for you, don’t they?”

It took a few seconds for the words to register before Joe quickly followed you. You managed to get a handful of feet headstart towards the master bathroom but Joe quickly caught up to you with his long legs. One second he was right behind you and the next he had picked you up and unceremoniously thrown you over his shoulder, carrying you towards the shower. You trusted your husband to not drop you but that didn’t mean you couldn’t retaliate when he gave your ass a quick slap on the way.

Once you reached the bathroom Joe carefully sat you down next to the shower before taking a step back and looking at you. You both just looked at each other for a second, neither of you moving.

“Aren’t you gonna get undressed?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“Aren’t you?” You asked right back.

He just smirked before giving you a quick glance up and down. “I just won a game for you baby. Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

That sly man just wanted to get a show but sadly for him there was nothing even remotely erotic about trying to get rid of the outfit you were wearing. Maybe if he had given you time to put on something cute or let you plan everything a bit longer there could be a chance of you trying to undress for him in a sexy way but definitely not tonight. You pulled his jersey over your head before throwing it at Joe, laughing as it landed directly on his face. The few seconds that got you were enough to pull down your pants and underwear before you turned around and made your way towards the shower, letting Joe get a glance at you removing your bra and nothing more. He didn’t do anything but stare for a moment, not that you minded your hot husband checking you out.

It just gave you time to turn on the water and get it to a nice temperature while he followed your lead and undressed. The shower door didn’t make a sound when he stepped through but you could feel his presence behind you before his arms wound around your middle from behind and a kiss was dropped on your shoulder. Not for the first time were you grateful for the giant shower in the master bathroom.

At least you were until Joe turned you around in his arms and walked you back a step until your back connected with the cold tile wall. You let out a little yelp at the contact, immediately fleeing back into the warmth of Joe.

“The tiles are cold.” You mumbled against his skin before feeling his laugh. It was a hearty one that shook his entire chest and even though what you said wasn’t even particularly funny you were glad he seemed to relax.

It took a bit before you managed to peel yourself away from Joe to look at the products lined up in their spot, searching for the shower gel.

“Want me to get your back?” Joe asked from behind you. Looking back over your shoulder you saw him watching you with an unmistakable look in his eyes but you weren’t in the shower for that… that would come later.

“Only if you’re nice.” You tease him. “We’re here to wash the day off of us. Not to get off.”

The way he pouted in response made you laugh again but you didn’t budge.

It was nice to just enjoy the time with Joe and not think too hard about anything outside the walls of your bathroom. After your playful scolding Joe decided to play nice. It felt good to just focus on his soft skin under your hands or the way his fingers felt as they ran across your skin. There was nothing but mellow intimacy and you loved it.

“You were right.” Joe told you later after you had toweled off and made your way to the bedroom. He let himself fall onto your bed and shuffled around a little until he was comfortably laying back, gloriously naked against the soft sheets. “That shower was a great idea.”

“Told you so.” His eyes were closed but he opened them when he felt the bed dip due to the weight of your body. You hadn’t bothered to get dressed after the shower either and you could feel his eyes on you as you slowly made your way to him until you were straddling his thighs, looking down at him.

His hands found your thighs and gave them a little squeeze before inching them a tiny bit higher and repeating the motion. “It would have been better if we had taken a bath though.” Joe smiled up at you.

“Why?”

His hands reached your hips and stayed there, big and warm at your sides. “Because we could have both relaxed.” He said, squeezing again. “Lit a few candles…” Another squeeze. “You would have gotten in first, of course, so I could lean back against you as a reward for the win today.”

“Of course.” You agreed, growing restless. Growing needy.

“I’d lean back against you and we could just enjoy being close. Obviously I'd have to pretend I couldn't feel your nipples get hard against my back but we wouldn’t want our relaxing tub time to turn into something else now wouldn’t we?”

“Can’t have that.” You agreed.

“Kind of like I'm pretending to not notice them getting hard right now. Although it would probably be easier to hide how wet you are in the tub don’t you think?”

Even though you barely registered his words at this point you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping.

“You think I didn't notice, baby?” Joe teased, squeezing your hip again just to remind you that he still had his hands on them. “Didn’t think I'd notice you basically grinding on my thighs for the past five minutes?”

Had you? Was there even a way you had been subconsciously riding your husbands thick thighs without even noticing? His hands were still on your sides and only now you realized they weren’t just resting there, they were guiding you, helping you move.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get there soon.”

Joe moved you around the bed until he was sitting up with you in his lap again but this time he didn’t give you the satisfaction of being able to rock against him, his grip keeping you hovering above him, pleasure just out of reach.

His mouth found your skin, lips connecting with the soft hollow of your throat and slowly working their way down to the top of your chest. “So pretty.” He mumbled, pressing little kisses around your collarbone before biting down on the soft flesh below it.

You’d definitely end up properly marked up by the end of the night and you couldn’t wait. Joe was always careful where he placed marks but he also liked to go over the top and make sure you knew just who you belonged to.

“Just for you.” You mumbled as his lips found one of your nipples and drew in it. Running his tongue against it before giving it a teasing little bite. Not enough to hurt but enough to leave you wanting more. “Joe please.”

Your husband just laughed and focused on your other breast. “Patience baby.”

The feeling of his soft lips on your breasts and his rough hands on your waist made you dizzy and you desperately needed him to let go of you so that you could go back to riding his thigh, chasing the pleasure he was denying you on your own.

Another gasp left your lips causing Joe to pull away. You needed more not less but your following whine finally made him relent, guiding your hips in a slow grind. It wasn’t enough to satisfy you in the way you needed it but at the moment it felt like the greatest pleasure you had ever felt.

“Please. Joe, please.” You moaned, hands coming up to run through his hair. Grabbing at his head, his neck, his shoulders. Anything to keep him close.

Even though you had anticipated the feeling of his tip at your entrance it still took you by surprise. His hands stayed anchored to your hips and moved you around, positioning you so that he could pull you down on his dick slowly. He waited until you were fully connected, filling you up as far as he could, before he moved his hands again, running them up and down your sides just enough to make you gasp.

He didn’t try to move you again, instead letting you sit full of him.

“Go on, baby.” Joe said, pressing another few kisses against your neck. “Take what you need from me.”

Pulling his hair just a little bit was enough for him to lift his head so that you could look at him. He was so beautiful under you. With his messy hair and his pupils so dilated you felt like you could look directly into his soul. Bringing your lips to his just felt right.

Kissing Joe was something you would never grow tired of. Be it just a quick peck or a nice long makeout session, his lips belonged on yours. You could have gotten lost in the way you moved together had it not been for him shifting under you, reminding you of the fact that he was nestled deep within you and of your original goal.

You started to move, rising up before letting yourself fall down. Again and again you moved, riding your husband while his mouth reattached itself to the skin of your neck. You could feel his kisses on your pulse and moved a little faster, really chasing your pleasure. Taking what you needed. Just like he had told you to.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall into a rhythm, moving against each other. His hands found your waist again, helping move you on his dick. He didn’t fuck up into you yet but you hoped he would if you could just provoke him enough.

Tightening around him didn’t make him speed up but it made Joe bite down on your neck in a way you were certain would result in a love bite you could admire for a while.

You did it again and basked in his response. Having him swearing below you only spurred you on more. Moving faster. Moving harder. Letting out all the moans and whimpers and gasps you tried to suppress.

“Fuck.” Joe kissed you again, holding you closer and closer.

Pulling away from his lips just enough to whisper before connecting them again. “I’m close.”

“Don’t cum.” His voice was stern as he spoke. “Don’t cum until I tell you.”

You were so lost in pleasure that you barely followed his words, so close to falling over the edge yet trying your hardest to not come apart under him. So focused on the way he felt inside you that you didn’t realise that he had turned the two of you around on the bed and you found yourself with your back against the sheets with Joe fucking you into the mattress.

The way he was filling you over and over drove you wild. You wanted to claw at his back, anything to get him closer, but instead you gripped your duvet hard enough for your knuckles to hurt. All you wanted to feel was Joe. All you needed was him.

He must have felt that you were close to your breaking point when he spoke again. “Don’t cum, baby. You’re not allowed to cum until I fill you up.”

His words just made you moan harder. God, you wanted to be filled so badly. Why was he torturing you like this, drawing everything out.

“I’m gonna fill you first, honey. Go as deep as I can and then fuck you full. Full enough that you’ll feel me all day tomorrow. Maybe I’ll fuck you until you’re round with my child, make sure everybody knows who you belong with.”

“Do it.” Your words were both surprising and not, you never directly discussed the topic before but at the same time you would have said anything if it provided you the ability to finally come. “Please, Joe. Fuck. Do it, do it, just please let me come.”

You could feel him coming deep inside you, still fucking you at the same rough pace as before, not stopping even as he reached his own height.

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

It only took a few more thrust for you to completely come apart under him. He fucked you through your orgasm too, his large body anchoring your shaking one to the bed while you calmed down.

He must have stopped moving at one point without you realizing because the next thing you knew Joe started to pull out of you before falling onto the bed. Face buried into a pillow, half next to you and half on top of you. His arm snuck around your waist and pulled you even closer.

“Sorry… Sorry about that. I got a little carried away.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down enough to talk, while he stroked his hand over your skin. “It’s okay. I liked it.”

Turning your head so you could look at him you saw Joe already looking back at you. His usually so content face looking downcast as you laid there coming down from your heights.

“Still…” He trailed off.

Taking the arm that was wrapped around your middle you pulled him closer until you were nearly on top of each other again. “You’re hot when you get possessive.” You tell him, watching as a slight smile slowly makes its way onto his face. “And if you want we can definitely talk about the- the other thing later. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

The smile you loved so much was back on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning over a little and giving him a soft kiss. “Great. Now come one, we’ll need another shower before bed and I don’t think I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

Joe just groaned and turned so his face was burrowed into his pillow again. “Five more minutes?”

Jealous Joe might be insanely hot but sleepy cuddly Joe would always be your favorite.

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #football imagine #football smut #nfl imagine #nfl smut #cincinnati bengals

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silverskye13 · 1 year

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Being the universe's smartest super computer still made for a derpy, non-functional person. It was really easy for people to get caught up in the Cool Sci-Fi Shenanigans of cyborgs and robots and forget how awesome and powerful organic, sentient life was.

For example: Xisuma has a perfect memory. If someone gave him a date and a time, he could scan back through his memory logs, replay recorded data and footage, and tell you the exact recipe he used for those vegan cookies that one time six years ago. He knows the ambient temperature of a froglight that's been submerged underwater for six hours, three minutes and twenty-nine seconds. He can rewind a recorded memory, pause the time lapse, and watch in slow motion as Grian breaks a stone block at spawn with his bare hands because he was bored during their intro-season speech.

However, recorded data takes up a massive amount of memory on a standard hard drive when you record everything you see as a passive function, and all of it has to be purged by hand, regularly, just so Xisuma can maintain the memory needed for daily functions. He's tried writing algorithms to do it for him, but even the best pattern recognition software can't account for his momentary preferences. What differentiates his favorite sunrise from any other? If he were human, he could program some kind of learning software using data from tables tied to the output of different brain chemicals and electrical pulses that most frequently line up with a formative memory -- but if he were human he wouldn't be making a program like that in the first place, now would he?

It's one of those long, long days of trawling through recorded data. It would be shorter if he would just parse through the most recent memories, but he likes keeping long-term memory storage at exactly thirty percent of his total data storage, and he's been resting at thirty-four percent for the past month. Putting off the inevitable. It's just, there's been a lot of stuff to remember the past few weeks, and it's hard to choose what to get rid of sometimes. He's started deep-diving through old data, walking down memory lane. He has to be careful, some of this data is important, tied intricately with the complex spider algorithm that forms his memory data access system.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

The screen that makes up the lion's share of X's face organizes itself into a smile, lights flickering on in the nanoseconds it takes him to process the memory he's watching and attribute happiness to it. Yes, this is a good one.

The playback jolts as he looks down at Tango. Not pictured is a redstone project they are picking away at. Xisuma knows this because this particular memory has a transcript, full of branching tags and keywords that pull up a wealth of information alongside it.

That's another thing about memory that organic life never appreciates. Memory isn't just the memory itself. It's a web of associations built on prior, learned knowledge. A tree isn't just a tree. It's color and texture and symbol and "when was the first time I drew a tree?" and "apples" and "saplings" and a thousand other tiny associations they just arbitrarily have. Xisuma has to synthesize that web. A memory doesn't exist in a vacuum. Unlike the organic mind, however, Xisuma can pull up as much accurate information as he has the processing power for. This memory brings him two more closely associated recordings, associated memories he's kept for context, the transcripts of six more deleted memories, the definition of redstone, a playback of isolated sound he deemed important.

The playback continues.

Click! Click! Click!

"What are you thinking, X?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Tango, I didn't know you'd walked up! I was doing research."

"Yeah? What kind?"

"Oh well, you know the new update. Redstone's always a little finicky after."

"Right, yeah, totally. I've been putting mine off, honestly. I don't feel like fixing broken stuff right now -- oh but, I guess you can't wait, huh?"

Xisuma parses through the data brought up with the memory. He knows the date this was recorded, the recent change to redstone mechanics brought on by the server update. He'd had three farms break. There was a linked document to a transcript of Doc's rant on redstone as it relates to radiation. There was a script note document typed the day after this recording was created: Clicking Good. There was a preliminary version of what he'd nicknamed "The Tick Script.Exe".

"Yeah, I've got a lot of bugs to fix."

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking?"

The clicking was an ambient noise made when Xisuma's system was a bit bulkier, his algorithms and scripts that handled memory and data access crude and unperfected. It caused a disc in a driver somewhere to click when he did searches. At the time, the clicking had been the closest thing to an annoying habit Xisuma could manage.

Computers don't have habits. Habits are repetitive motions that become subliminal, that take effort to break, and are oftentimes formed subconsciously. Xisuma doesn't have a discernable difference between conscious thought and subconscious. He has background processes, he has backburnered data, and he has executive commands.

Xisuma queries the memory, pulling up related tags and searches, letting the algorithm reach. This memory had been the start of a, for lack of a better term, humanification process for him. There was his observation table on organic ticks, habits, and movements. It had taken a lot of uncomfortable staring, but back then, staring was all he'd known how to do. One of the first entries on the table was blinking. Organic things blinked, clearing away dust and debris from lenses and membranes. Xisuma didn't have eyes, didn't blink. But the screen that managed his facial expression animations could be programmed to blink.

Xisuma queries blinking. He pulls up a transcript of an interaction with Stressmonster, where she mentioned he blinked every thirty seconds. She knew this because when she first noticed him blinking, she'd noticed it's regularity. That was when Xisuma learned that, to convincingly blink, time variation was necessary.

Coding randomization into redstone circuitry had always been difficult.

Xisuma returns to the Tango memory recording, replays the question about the clicking, the unintentional habit. Xisuma still clicked when he thought. The others probably still thought it had to do with bulky drivers. In reality, it had been a test in trial and error.

How many clicks was acceptable for a thinking pattern? The three dot ellipses was common in writing, and a two dot pattern was too reminiscent of a heartbeat. When he'd temporarily switched to a four dot pattern, he'd noticed people getting impatient, or worrying if his mechanics were stalling. (Stalling and slow loading does sometimes happen, but it manifests in freezes and long pauses, not in repeating clicks). He invented a three click pattern, tested a variety of click sounds, settled on something similar to a rotary phone click when a number is dialed. It was a good sound. Heavy and sharp. It sounded like something falling into place with intention. Click! Click! Click!

Xisuma doesn't actually need a sound to think. But it's a clever replacement for harder to code things, like remembering to two a surface or fidget.

Click! Click! Click!

Shifting weight had been a harder thing to code. Standing stationary, legs an equal width apart, was the most steady way to stand. It also made him look like a statue, made his unblinking stares eerie and uncomfortable. Organic things read it as unnatural, borderline on predatory. Large predators often froze and stared right before pouncing.

Looking back through old memories, Xisuma could tell if they were from before or after his algorithmic programming because of how still they were. Made for clearer visuals, and he knows in high-stress situations that focus on accuracy, he can cycle them off, but they're comfortable for people to watch.

Xisuma rocks back on his heels away from the screen he's watching. If someone else were in the room, it would be a sign of thoughtfulness. For him, it's the execution from a random table of acceptable fidgets while standing still. He should turn it off. He's alone right now. But sometimes the movements still catch him off-guard and the longer they run, the more he gets used to them.

Xisuma queries: rocking on heals

He gets a handful of save recording bits. Doc rocks onto his back legs and stretches his forelegs. Gem rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet, her arms crossed behind her back, mischievous and excited. Scar rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms, thoughtfully examining some terraforming. Xisuma isolates the last recording and mimics it, feeling how the weight of his crossed arms counterbalances the lean back.

Xisuma queries his habits table and adds the motion to the list.

He never quite figured out how to program what to do with his hands. They spent a lot of time at his sides, or in pockets. Objectively he knew that was bad. Hiding the hands was often a sign of hiding something, and he liked being transparent.

Xisuma queries: Hands

Xisuma blinks at the long list of results.

Xisuma queries: Hands behind back

He gets several animations of Gem, Grian, and Scar, all with some variation of hands behind their backs and mischievous grins. Most of them are snippets made for studying purposes. Two are attached to longer videos, catalogued memories he's kept. His query returns almost four hundred memory transcripts.

Xisuma likes making transcripts. He feels it's similar to the hazy, distant memories people have when time and distance transform them. When someone else remembers something falteringly, he remembers the way he described it to himself. The older transcripts were rougher. He's gotten better at writing them over the years. His learning and pattern recognition softwares are still pretty good, even if they aren't perfect enough to manage the full range of expression on their own.

Xisuma queries: Do my friends know how hard it is to look organic?

This returns no direct results. He receives a directory of the people he's flagged as "friends" over the years, an article on the recent organics additions to the world in the latest update, and a handful of unrelated memory documents where he'd asked this question before and similarly pulled up no response.

Xisuma queries: Do I care?

This pulls up more entries. Xisuma glances across them and clears them.

Xisuma queries: Do I care today?

This pulls up only slightly fewer entries. He smiles. Asking subjective questions to a computer never gleans intended results. Computers aren't subjective. Or, well, they're not supposed to be. Of course, if he were merely a computer, he wouldn't be doing this, would he? If he were merely a computer, he would be sitting on a shelf, or a desk, running prewritten programs and searches for someone else, letting someone else build his code, rules by the guidances and intentions of someone who ultimately viewed him as a tool, if nothing else.

Xisuma queries: Who's flying this thing, if not me?

He pulls up a list of song lyrics and chords, a clip from a movie he'd watched once, an IMDB rating off some database somewhere.

Xisuma clears the data. He pulls up the last memory he was watching, rocks back on his heels and crosses his arms thoughtfully. He presses play.

Click! Click! Click!

"Are you going to get rid of the clicking?"

"Clicking? Oh, I guess I am clicking, aren't I? It's just an inefficiency. I'll fix it at some point, I guess."

Tango smirked at him. One of his hands plucked at his sleeve. Xisuma clips the motion, tags it with hands, nervous, thoughtful, fidget.

"You sure it needs fixed? I kinda like it."

Click! Click! Click!

#the barking writer #xisuma #hermitcraft fic #robot!xisuma #android!xisuma #woe! my headcanons be upon ye!#ive been reading a lot of scifi lately #like... A LOT of scifi #like almost 200hrs of audiobooks in the past 3 weeks #long post #longpost

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jasntodds · 1 month

Text

Petrichor [19]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,542

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, mention of abuse, mention of manipulation, mentions of death, mentions of canon characters deaths, mentions of drug use

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: We're almost done with season 3 and I am so excited!! You're all gonna hate me later lmao (again happy ending, promise) I have so many plans lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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You, Gar, and Rachel are sitting around the Lazurus Pit. Rachel has just finished giving Gar a pep talk about how she's able to do what she does out of love. Gar has been feeling a little bit like a letdown, unable to transform into different animals on command like he can as a tiger. The only times it's happened is when he's terrified, as if there's a block of fear in his head keeping him from transforming into anything else. You stay silent. You don't think Rachel is wrong. Gar could definitely change into other animals beyond being scared and maybe the answer is the love he has for all of the Titans and the love everyone has for him because everyone believes him. But, you're still stuck in your head wondering if that's always enough.

Right now, love doesn't seem like the thing that heals all wounds and makes everything better. It wasn't enough to keep Jason safe. It wasn't enough to keep him out of Crane's grasp. It wasn't enough to get Bruce to kill the Joker before he had his chance. It wasn't enough to bring Jason home. It wasn't enough for Rachel to bring Donna back. It wasn't enough for Sam to bring Jason back. It wasn't enough to keep the Titans at the tower. There have been so many things, especially lately, where it's just not been enough. Sometimes it's not enough so instead of being pessimistic about it, you stay quiet, looking at the pit and hoping it spits Dick out.

"You're quiet." Gar states, moving his attention to you.

"Oh, yeah." You shake your head, glancing back at him. "Just...waiting." You look back at Rachel. There's no guarantee this is going to work. You need another plan if it doesn't. You need another plan if it takes too long. "Do you think you could find the other Titans? Like...at some point tonight?"

"Yeah." Rachel nods her head. "I can feel their energy, too." Rachel's voice is soft.

"Well, that's good at least. Kory will know what to do." You let out a sigh, moving your stare back to the Pit.

"You don't think this is gonna work, do you?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I'm just trying to think ahead in case it doesn't or in case it takes a while. I mean, for all we know it takes a few days." You state just as the put starts bubbling. "Or...a few hours." You mutter as the three of you get to your feet, looking into the pit just as Dick's fist punches through the surface and he emerges from the thick and glowing liquid.

Dick starts to swim to the edge while you and Gar quickly meet him there to help pull him out. You both grab his arms, pulling at him until he's out of the pit and leaning back on his hands. He coughs up water just as Rachel kneels down beside him, you and Gar getting back to your feet. You and Gar exchange a look of disbelief as hope has the courage to start to fill your chests.

"Dick?" Rachel asks.

Dick manages to look at her, furrowing his brows in confusion before he falls back onto his back and passes out. Rachel looks back to Gar and you, as if one of you will know what just happened.

"What do we do?" Rachel asks.

"Is he breathing?" Gar asks with hesitance.

The three of you see Dick's chest rising and falling. This whole thing has been weird and it almost seemed like he drowned. Is there supposed to be more to do this? Or is he supposed to just...sleep off the effects and then he's just alive again? The three of you are completely confused by the entire situation.

"Yes." Rachel states.

"I guess we wait some more?" You question. "He's breathing so that's better than the alternative." You shrug your shoulders, wishing you would have pressed Jason to get some answers from Crane about him coming back.

But then Dick snaps back out of it, gasping himself awake as he shoots up. You and Gar both jump back slightly at the sudden movement and sound as if Dick is jumpscare in a bad horror movie.

"Rachel?" Dick gasps for breath, looking more confused than ever. "Gar?" Dick rushes, getting onto one knee. "Y/n?" Dick questions looking to you.

The last thing he remembers to be real is you and Jason kneeling above him, looking lost and panicked. Then there was everything in the pit which only leaves him with far more questions than answers, none of which he has time to get answers to right now. The Pit told him everything he needs to know to take down Crane. That's all that can matter right now if you're all going to save Gotham. He can deal with the rest later.

"It's okay now. You're safe." Rachel assures him. "Let us help you."

"Are you...alright?" Gar asks with worry.

"Yeah, dude. You like...died." You state with the scrunch of your nose, earning a light nudge from Gar.

"What...what happened down there?" Gar asks.

Dick breathes heavily, catching his breath and then completely avoids the question. "Crane can be stopped." Dick states, running a hand through his hair. "There's still time." Dick rushes, getting to his feet.

Dick starts to walk towards the exit as Rachel gets to her feet. He cannot possibly be serious. He just died and drowned and now he's just...going to stop Crane. Suddenly he has all the answers and he's going to go off on his own? He can barely even catch his breath.

"Wait. Dick, man, you need to rest." Gar rushes after him, the three of you right on Dick's heels.

Dick turns around, barely facing the three of them. "Anton and First Street. There's an abandoned control room. Find Conner. Make sure he's okay. Unite the Titans." Dick states in a hurry. "Y/n, with me, let's go." Dick rushes before he turns on his heels and starts darting down the hallway.

"Unite the Titans where?" Rachel calls after him.

"Take them to Donna." Dick states, not slowing down or stopping as he makes his way down the tunnel.

The three of you look between each other in confusion, trying to grasp any sort of explanation to no avail. Donna is supposed to be dead, according to Rachel. And he was in a Pit?

Dick calls your name from down the hall, his voice echoing over the bricks.

You shrug at the two of them. "Uh...alright. Good luck with that, I guess? I'll make sure he's not fucking insane." You state quickly, spinning on your heels before you jog down the hall to catch up to Dick.

You catch up to Dick who is walking a steady and quick pace, his head clearly thinking a hundred steps ahead. You eye him as you match his pace, walking right beside him. He just died? And then came back to life? There is no way in hell this man is just...fine with that. Of course, there are a lot of other things you all need to focus on, especially with him somehow knowing Crane can be stopped. There are more pressing matters than Dick's mental state at this exact point in time but that doesn't bring you any type of ease.

No one should die and then just be fine.

Jason sure as shit isn't. So, Dick can't be either.

Sam follows Dick out of the building, keeping up with him.

"We're going to meet Jason." Dick states flatly once the two of you exit the building.

"We're gonna what now?" You question, shaking your head. "And how do you expect we even find him?"

"He'll be here." Dick states, a confidence that should be reassuring consumes his voice.

How is he so sure about everything all of a sudden? The Lazarus Pit brings people back, and heals them, but...it can't possibly predict the future right? But, Dick also just said Donna is alive which means...if that's actually true the pit brings more than life back to someone. It brings some sort of clarity for things they otherwise shouldn't know. But if he's wrong that just means it's made him crazy which also means the pit did have some sort of lasting effect on Jason, too. This can't be good.

"How do you even know that?" You question, trying to figure out what is actually going on. If anything, he needs to slow down.

"He'll always go back to where it happened." Dick states.

What?

Your face scrunches in both annoyance and more confusion. You did this round-and-round question game with Jason, you're not doing it with Dick. He wants you to go and find Jason so damn bad, he can give you some clarity, too.

"What the shit with Donna being alive? How the fuck do you even know that?" You almost demand instead of asking.

"I just do." Dick says simply.

"That's not reassuring whatsoever." You mutter with more annoyance.

Dick glances down to you, seeing you grow frustrated. "The pit..." Dick says.

"Yeah, no I figured that out but you're not exactly giving out details here." You roll your eyes before you grab his arm to bring him to a stop. "Dude, seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on, we can't waste—" Dick starts as he continues walking.

"No, fuck that shit!" You yell, keeping up with him again. "You know, you batboys do that shit all the time. You guys say you're fine when you're not. You literally just fucking died, Dick. You can't just be fine after that. And you know if the three of you would just fucking talk about how not fine all of you are, we probably wouldn't be in this mess to begin with, right? Like that's your guys' entire fucking problem. I hate talking about my shit, too but I'm learning the more I admit how not fine I am the easier it is and I tend to feel a little bit better about it. The three of you are just fucking annoying about it and if you really think that's not your problem, you're being willfully ignorant and we both know that's not a very Nightwing thing to be." You finish with a scoff and the shake of your head.

And maybe a large part of your frustration is that neither of them seem to think they matter. They are sacrifices. Jason always thinks the world is simply better off without him and Dick thinks he's expendable. He can be the sacrifice for the greater good. It's why he's reckless and why he goes off on his own. Jason does the exact same thing. It's fine to them if they die. But, they leave these people in the wake of their deaths with paralyzing grief. This time it wasn't permanent for either of them but what happens when it is? It shouldn't be because they were reckless and decided to sacrifice themselves because they matter to people. The people who love them and they should be considered in all of this.

Dick glances down to you as you keep your eyes straight, jaw clenched tight. Dying is traumatic but you're right. They don't talk about it. Bruce never talked about anything so Dick wouldn't talk about anything and Jason never talked about anything. Batman and Robin could never be scared and they weren't allowed to let their emotions get in the way. Emotions cause blurriness and distractions. On the field, those things get you killed. But, he's not Robin. He's not with Batman. He just died as Nightwing.

"It was a lot." Dick manages to state.

"Yeah..." You say quietly.

"You almost died. I think you know." Dick says, still partially avoiding the question.

"Yeah, it was really scary and traumatizing." You state flatly because even though you were close, you did not die. He saved you. And Jason saved you. Close doesn't count here.

"Yeah." Dick keeps his word short. "I had to face some...challenges." Dick confesses, feeling the very core of his bones ache with guilt over the brutal beating of Jason even though it wasn't real in the pit. "It's hard to explain. It was a test or something." You look at him, seeing the look of distance and remorse dissolve over his face and you don't need to ask what kind of tests. "I understand Jason a little more now, him as Red Hood." Dick lets out a breath. "But I can't focus on what happened if we're going to stop Crane. "

You nod softly. "Right, yeah, got it." You let out a breath. "Your ability to compartmentalize is really something else but you should really deal with it after instead pushing it off." You say quietly, earning a glance from Dick. "Something else will always come up, you're Nightwing. You're a Titan. I'm just saying, look where we stand today like maybe it would have been different if things weren't always compartmentalized. Maybe you need to feel it sometimes."

The words almost catch you off guard. You've been running from your own pain for so long that you think that's your biggest issue. You run and it hurts you and the people that care about you. It's easier to not feel any of it but it makes being a person harder. There is blood on your hands and a part of you wonders if you had just let yourself grieve, maybe there wouldn't be. Maybe most of what happened between you and Jason after wouldn't have happened because you would have grieved. You would have felt all of it. Maybe had you stuck around after your mom died, let yourself just feel it, you wouldn't have ended up with Jerry. Maybe allowing the pain to bleed a little is how people heal from it. Let it scab over and let it mend itself over time with care and attention.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks. "You were there. You found Jason, you were there with Tim. This is a lot for you, too."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "Like...I-I-I don't know. You're like this weird...weird brother I-I never really wanted or asked for and then you died. And that's just...I don't know. I fuck with you but I respect you and ya know?" You look up with honest eyes. "Kind of would suck a lot if you died permanently. You're like good at this and you're important to the Titans." You roll your shoulder, pulling in a heavy breath. "And to me." You mutter so quietly Dick nearly misses it.

"Thank you." Dick says. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." There's the smallest touch of sarcasm in his voice.

You manage to crack a smile. "Eh, don't get used to it, Dickolas. It's cause you died. Gotta be nice to you for at least an hour." Dick shakes his head but you see the subtle hint of a smile on his face. "Why are we going to find Jason anyway?"

"He'll know how to take out Crane and we need him on the inside. He wouldn't tell Crane he's against him, would he?" Dick asks.

"Doubt it." You scoff. "Jason is smart, methodical. He still wants Crane dead for what he did to me so he's not gonna let Crane think they're on different sides just so he can have the upper hand."

"Good. We find Jason and bring him with us. I have a plan." Dick states with urgency but offers no further explanation.

"Yeah...okay. So, uh, where do I come in? The mediator, still?" You almost laugh at the idea.

"No. You said Jason wanted to talk, let's talk. You're here because I need you with Jason."

While the idea of them talking is definitely enticing, you aren't completely convinced. Jason didn't pull the trigger this time but it is his fault Dick died. And given how Jason has been about Bruce who wasn't even in Gotham when Jason was killed, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy with Dick wanting to find Jason so soon after surviving the Pit.

"And how do we know you're not gonna kill Jason? I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want you to kill him and I'd fight like hell to make sure you don't. But...he did kind of just get you killed so you can see why I'm a little confused about you're kind of change of heart, I guess." You explain, eyeing him from the corner of your eye.

"You'll just have to trust me. I never wanted him dead. He was just giving us no choice." There's something almost sad that trickles into his voice while his expression gives nothing away.

"There's always a choice, Dick." You say quietly. "You can't say there isn't a choice when you yelled at me for killing and you're mad at Jason for killing. And you preached about how we can't be judge, jury, and executioner. There is a choice."

"Jason was going to kill all of us." Dick defends his stance, not acknowledging the hypocrisy of it all.

"So? And the ones we want dead will keep trying to kill other people. Or worse. Just because we, specifically, aren't their targets doesn't mean they get a pass. The innocent people that are their targets deserve the same amount of care and protection that we offer each other." You pull in a breath, feeling Dick move his stare to you. "We clearly didn't have to kill him, is my point."

This is the most Dick has gotten out about your motive. It's more than it being about the kids left behind. It's the bigger picture. That there is a choice and sometimes it's a bad choice and a hard choice but one that means, in your head, protecting the greater good in the same way Dick wants to protect the Titans. It doesn't mean he agrees with you, but he does see your point of view for once.

"Do you disagree with going after Jason?"

"No." You answer plainly. "I'm just incredibly loyal to him. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead. And I understand that's a bit hypocritical given what I just said. That's why circumstances and background are important when making the decision to kill someone." You shake your head. "I know him. I know him being a cold-blooded killer isn't him. Background matters."

"You're right it does. I do not want him dead." Dick offers a sincere nod towards you before it falls silent between you.

You finally reach the spot from last night where Dick was killed. Dick finds the Red Hood helmet, picks it up and takes it along with him. There's a puddle of blood still on the pavement that makes your stomach twist. It's as if blood stains everything it touches.

You're still unconvinced Jason will be here like Dick says. He's not psychic all of a sudden. But, you stay with him anyway, hoping you run into Jason and of course, you do. Somehow, Dick is right about this. Jason is yelling that Red Hood is back as he fires a gun into the air.

"Jason...it's okay." Dick calls, getting Jason's attention as he spins around quickly. His face is still covered in blood and cuts from the fight the night before. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, this can't be right. "It's me."

He knows the three of you took Dick to the Pit but there is a part of him that still can't believe it worked. Watching the life literally leave someone's body only for them to be alive the following day, that's more than unsettling. It feels wrong. It's the same wrong feeling Jason gets any time he gets a moment of silence and can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But he is relieved to see Dick walking and alive. The feeling of it being wrong, is just the echo in his own bones. Dick should be the one alive. If the Pit were to work on anyone and offer someone a second chance, it should be Dick.

"It worked?" Jason questions, almost losing the breath from his lungs with the words. His eyes land on you as if you're the only one who can confirm if this is real or not.

You nod once. "Yeah, it did."

"You knew?" Dick asks.

Jason nods. "Rachel said that's where Gar was taking you." Jason explains as his eyes start to grow glassy, the guilt thundering through his bones once more.

"We don't have much time. I need your help." Dick cuts the conversation short, knowing they can't discuss this now but he's getting the idea maybe Jason did just want to talk. He looks hurt and relieved to see him and you.

You, on the other hand, are still uneasy. Dick isn't giving you any indication that this is going to go sideways but you feel yourself grip a knife from your belt anyway. This can't go sideways again. You all working on different teams has not helped fight Crane but working together should. Crane, at the very least, won't see it coming. You just don't want to see anyone else close to you die again.

"You want me to help you?" Jason asks, stretching his arms out at his sides in disbelief. He can't help. Not after what he's become. "I'm a fucking murderer."

"You know how Crane is operating. You know how he thinks." Dick starts. "He needs to be stopped or a lot more people are gonna die." Dick pauses for just a second. "You want redemption?" Dick asks as Jason hangs his head. "Do you?" Dick asks more firmly this time. "This is the first step."

Of course he wants redemption for the harm he's caused but his methods now do not align with Dick's. He's almost gotten them killed and he did kill Hank. He betrayed them. How is he supposed to go back now and help? After everything? After what he's become? It sounds hopeless and he almost lets his pity get the best of him until his eyes meet yours.

"We need your help, Jay." You plead with him.

Jason shakes his head. "You can't stop him." Jason answers with defeat rather than snark. He genuinely believes Gotham is lost to Crane. "He's got everything. The police, the Batcave. He's gonna take the whole fucking city down!"

"How?" Dick asks more in a way that sounds like a demand.

"You think I know?" Jason scoffs. "He doesn't tell me shit."

"Jay? You have to know something. You've been with him this entire time and you wanted to talk to Dick last night. You know something." You urge, practically begging him to just say something.

He told you once that he remembers everything. Crane slipped somewhere and all Jason has to do is remember. Think of whatever the hell Crane said that might be a clue.

Jason hangs his head as tears start to come to his eyes. "It was all crazy shit." Jason pauses for a second. "Like waves of anger and fear. The bright and darkened lands of the Earth. Something about an attack you and Bruce stopped a long time ago." Jason states, looking at Dick with confusion knowing Bruce never told him.

"Years ago, Crane sent a poem to Jim Gordon with clues about an attack on Gotham. A chain of explosives to release his fear toxin. We stopped him before he had the chance to set it off. Bruce took Crane's weapons and put them in the Gotham Armory to study them."

"And Crane's in the Batcave." Jason finishes. "So, he knows where those weapons are."

"And so do we now." Dick states as he extends Jason's helmet out to him. "We need to go."

Jason puts the pistol back in the holster on his leg. "So, I'm a Titan again?" Jason asks.

"No, you'll never be a Titan again." Dick states before he closes the distance between them, offering his helmet. "But, you can help us save Gotham."

Jason eyes the helmet as the feeling of being lost hits him like a ton of bricks. He never really fit in being a Titan anyway but...something about the confirmation that even if he were to change back to who he was before, it's over, really hits him. It's something he can't come back from. That part of his life, Robin, is gone. It's lost to the darkness. The Joker took it from him. Crane took it from him. The one thing he thought made him who he is, is shattered with so many of his hopes. It's lost and gone and Jason can't help but feel alone and lost now.

But, feeling that way got him here in the first place so he takes the helmet from Dick.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?" Jason asks.

"Because now I know what it's like to die." Dick answers harshly.

Jason's eyes glance to you and then back to the helmet in his hands. It's more guilt. It's always guilt that comes back like the bladed boomerang. Jason knows firsthand what it's like to die, too and that didn't stop him. That was never a reason for him to stop. It doesn't matter that he was drugged and manipulated because, to Jason, Dick's reason should have been enough. It doesn't matter that the drug removed his guilt and his fear and the feeling of being haunted and stalked by something dark and twisted. He should have known better and he put death on Hank anyway. He lead Dick to getting killed.

He should have known better than to go after the people who actually cared about him. He knows what it's like to die and Dick does, too. To Jason, that should give Dick enough reason to kill him and yet...he doesn't and he seems sincere.

"Fine." Jason agrees reluctantly. "How can I help?" Jason asks letting out a steady breath as he nods his head.

"Come on. I've got a car around the block. We're going to break into the vault." Dick says casually as he starts walking past Jason.

Jason looks at you before you roll your eyes, trailing after Dick, Jason falling in line with you. The two of you follow Dick to the car he, for some reason, just has. You and Jason can only assume it's from last night. He had to get to Jason some way. Jason takes the passenger seat while you sit in the back, sitting right in the middle. Dick starts the drive while Jason is stuck in the car with his brother. This is not the ideal situation.

"Do you want to explain any of this?" Dick asks after a few minutes of silence. "How we got here?"

"Not really." Jason quips back with frustration looking out the window. He's not even entirely sure where to start. It all feels like this started so long ago and maybe in a way it did. Maybe it started that day he stole the hubcaps. Maybe he should have listened to Dick and you about Bruce. "After fucking everything, I just can't believe Bruce couldn't fucking kill the Joker." Jason lets out a scoff. "He fucking beat me to death with a fucking crowbar and Bruce just...fucks off somewhere." Jason scoffs again, barely able to hide the crack in his voice.

The car falls dead silent as Dick glances in the rearview mirror at you before you lean forward in between the boys. You and Dick are on the verge of exploding. This really cannot be Jason's entire motive. How the hell doesn't he know? You look at Jason who's giving you a confused and annoyed expression. You look back to Dick who is clearly trying to figure out how he's supposed to burst this bubble without it leading to another fistfight.

"I got it." You state before looking to Jason. "Who exactly do you think killed the Joker?" You blink at him with your brows raised, really hoping Jason's motive is not entirely linked to this little bit of information.

Jason eyes you, looking to the side and then back at you. The look you're giving him with Dick glancing at him has him feeling like Crane may have lied to him about that, too. But, Bruce wouldn't throw his morals away, right? Not for someone like Jason. Not for Jason. Bruce didn't kill the Joker.

"Uh...Crane said it was one of the prisoners who dressed like the Bat?" Jason lets out a scoff, playing it off in hopes this conversation is not going where he thinks it's going.

You look back at Dick who looks like he might have an aneurysm. Jason has been deadset on his new form of justice which you agree with but...if he thinks Bruce didn't kill the Joker for him, maybe that's his motive. You always felt his hatred towards Dick was just some weird rivalry amplified by Crane but if Jason thought no one avenged him...maybe that's it. You almost cringe at the idea of having to burst his bubble.

"You hear it, right?" You ask Jason as you look back at him. "Like..." You pause, scrunching your nose. "Crane, inmate dressing as the Bat."

There is no fucking way Bruce actually killed someone, the Joker, for Jason.

"Did....did Bruce actually do it?" Jason huffs as if he expects you and Dick to be messing with him as some sort of cruel payback or even to get him back on the "good" side.

"Walked into my room with a bloody crowbar." Dick states.

He cannot believe of all lies for Jason to believe from Crane, he had to believe that one. Crane is a manipulative asshole who's had Jason drugged and under his thumb ever since coming back, but how does Jason actually believe this? Even though Bruce has always been completely against murder in any instance, Jason should have known it was a lie. All of Gotham knows it was actually Batman.

"He actually did it?" Jason asks but this time, there's a sense of shock and remorse in his voice.

Every single part of him should feel relieved that Bruce would do this for him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the same guy who has preached about not being judge, jury, and executioner, killed someone for him. Bruce killed The Joker for beating Jason to death and Jason should feel relieved and thankful but instead, he just feels guilty. Maybe wanting Bruce to avenge his death was never the thing he really wanted.

"Yeah, Jay." You nod your head, your voice quiet and sad. "Fuck Bruce, but I told you he loved you."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a groan, resting his head back on the headrest. "I really fucking thought he wouldn't do it."

Jason always thought Bruce would never break that moral code. He said it would be too easy to keep going. It's always just that one and then there would be another who's just as bad. The lines would start to blur and he wouldn't be able to stop. But, Jason did think if he ever were going to break it, it would have been for Dick, not Jason. He had no idea he actually meant that much to Bruce and now Bruce up and leaving Gotham without a trace makes sense. It wasn't that Crane drove him away or some sort of hideaway until things cooled down after losing his son. It was the grief of it all. The blame Bruce has to feel, knowing he led Jason into the road of Robin.

"Was that your only motivation for this?" Dick questions, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Of course not." Jason sneers. "But...it didn't help." Jason grits his teeth. "I don't fucking know." Jason crosses his arms, not more aggravated over the whole thing than ever.

Crane took everything from him. And Jason trusted him.

"It's okay if you're mad at him for not saving you and thinking he didn't avenge your death." You state softly. "But now you know."

"I'm not though." Jason states as he nearly cuts you off, catching you both off guard. "I'm not fucking mad at him for not saving me." Jason's voice trails off. "I...fuck it. Forget it, alright? Crane lied to me about that, too and here we are." Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head before turning to look out his window.

Dick always felt like Jason was the type to hold a grudge, get unreasonable mad about things beyond his control. But, in the time since the tower, he got to know him better, finding out that wasn't entirely true. Jason's statement just now proves that. It was never about Bruce not saving him or even avenging him. It was him being alone. Thrown to the side the second things started to get messy. It was always about him feeling abandoned and less than, not good enough.

And you can see that, too.

You look to Dick and for once, Dick looks worried. "Don't worry," You start, earning a look from Jason. "I'll kill Crane for you." You offer him a soft smile that almost makes Jason laugh.

"Really?" Dick questions with annoyance.

"Don't pretend like you don't want him dead." You chortle.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs. "He's too good for it." Jason nearly chortles with you just to mock Dick.

"Hey!" Dick challenges. "Crane is bad, he just needs to remain locked away."

"No, you want him dead." You nod your head. "He killed your brother, drove your adoptive dad away, almost killed me, killed Hank, has been actively trying to get you killed for two weeks, and turned all of Gotham against the Titans. You want him dead. I can tell."

"You got a fucking sixth sense for right now?" Jason quips, this time actually letting a laugh slip from the bottom of his lungs.

"No." You chortle. "Dick isn't as stern when he talks about not killing Crane. He always has this look about killing being wrong and he always says the same thing, he doesn't do either with Crane."

"He's just a bad person." Dick defends himself, not even wanting to humor your theory behind this.

"No shit, man." Jason huffs. "I fucking died and he probably set the whole thing up."

"So did I." Dick states back.

"Gar died, you both died, Donna died and all of you came back. We all just taking turns? Where should I stand in line?" You quip with the intention of not letting them even start an argument.

"Not funny." Jason and Dick say at the same time, making themselves grimace.

You burst into a fit of laughter. "I told you, Jay. You two--"

"Shut the fuck up." Jason hits his head on the back of the headrest, closing his eyes. The last thing he wants to hear is that him and Dick even have one similarity but his voice isn't harsh and there might even the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

You lean back in your seat with the shake of your head and a gentle smile. This is going to eat at him for a while but you hope Bruce will come back. Maybe after you take out Crane, Dick will be able to find him and him and Jason can go get him. Maybe Jason getting to see Bruce after all of this will ease some of his guilt. You've had talks about it. You know him being fooled into thinking Bruce didn't avenge him isn't his entire motive. Jason always felt like Bruce could do more and this is doing more. It doesn't make it easy for him or make him feel better, but you know there's always more to Jason's motives than something surface-level.

Once you get to the armory, the three of you enter with ease. There are no guards this time. There's no one even here, just the three of you which allows you to walk right up to the vault. The entire city is in a bit of chaos, using up any force that might have been here. It's not ideal for everyone else, but it is definitely beneficial to you, Jason, and Dick right about now.

You reach the vault door where Jason takes the lead, lining the door with a sort of liquid that then ignites and breaks the seals of the door, fire almost engulfing the door until it hits the floor. Jason is the first one to step inside, his gun pointed forward with a flashlight on top. You follow right behind him with your own flashlight and then Dick.

"Let's go." Dick says once he gets in front of you and Jason, leading the way to case you need.

Dick opens the case only for nothing to be inside besides a book called Collected Poems by Will Auden.

"I don't get it. There's supposed to be like two hundred ampules." Jason states with frustration. "What the fuck is that?"

Dick reaches forward and grabs the book. "Bright and darkened lands of the Earth." Dick states, looking at the book.

You and Jason look between each other and then back to Dick. Of all things for Dick to understand, a random book of poems is the thing he understands. Of course, he does.

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks.

"Crane's poem." Dick states as he opens the book, flipping to somewhere in the middle. "His war on Gotham."

Jason snatches the book back, you looking over his arm to see the page Dick opened.

"Fuck." Jason groans.

Crane's already beat you here. It has to be some sort of gloat thing he's doing, like he's already two steps ahead of you. He's been two steps ahead this whole time and his war on Gotham is now in full swing. What are you all supposed to do if you can't locate the bombs and disable them? What if Crane is already out there ready to blow up the city?

"What are we supposed to do now?" You ask, looking up to Dick.

Dick pauses for a second, looking to the empty case and then back to you and Jason. "Let's go. I have an idea." Dick says quickly before he turns and heads towards the exit.

The three of you head back to the car, taking back your seats as Dick immediately starts driving. You're watching him and you're fascinated by how quickly Dick can change directions. Not a single part of you is surprised but you are fascinated by it. He was trained by Batman. To be out there, as a vigilante, you have to know how to pivot immediately. Dick is really good at it. So, is Jason. It's something the two of them have in common. The ability to adapt to anything and everything, even when everything is covered in bloody chaos.

"One poem, multiple bombs." Dick starts. "Clues to where the bombs are are placed in the poems."

"What's the plan?" Jason asks, his stare on Dick hoping Dick does actually have some sort of backup plan.

"Find some supers and stop the bombs from going off." Dick says it almost casually as if it's something so simple and easy.

"Titans?" Jason scoffs. "What are they gonna do when they see me?"

Jason knows there is no way the Titans are going to welcome him back with open arms and trust him just because Dick and you say he's safe now. Gar might but Kory, Conner, and Rachel won't. He's been actively targeting them and he killed Hank. They're not just going to forget that and move on like nothing happened. They'll likely try and kill him the second they see him at this point. He got Dick killed.

"They're not." Dick states, revving the engine before pulling over at a curb.

"What's going on?" Jason asks once the car is stopped.

"Get out." Dick states.

"Out?" Jason asks, hurt covering his voice.

"I can't bring you back to the Titans. It'll cause a war." Dick explains. "But I do need you."

"So, I'm your dirty little secret?" Jason quips.

"You want to help us, this is the way it's gonna be. I can only fight one war at a time."

You remain silent, not daring to get in the middle of the two of them. It's the smart decision because there's no way everyone will trust him. Everyone will start fighting and arguing and nothing will get done. Crane will win just because there's a fight between the Titans, which is probably what he wants anyway. It might hurt Jason, but it is the only way this can even work.

"When do you need me?" Jason agrees with a bit of reluctance in his voice.

"If you don't hear from me before, meet me back here in three hours. Got it?" Dick asks.

"Yeah." Jason says quietly.

"You, too." Dick looks back at you.

"Why do I have to get out?" You let out a scoff as Jason quickly looks back at you, wondering what you did this time to piss off the rest of the Titans.

"Safety, precautions, you two work well together." Dick states. "Three hours."

"Got it." You nod your head once before you exit the vehicle with Jason.

Once your doors are shut, Dick drives off. You look over to him and Jason dodges your stare, looking to the side. It's the shame that's eating at him. Falling for all of Crane's lies, getting Dick killed, having to be kept a secret. He was once a Titan and now they can't know he's even helping. Instead, Dick has you here because you work well together, sure, but also to make sure Jason doesn't back out of it. He's not even mad because he'd do the same thing but it hurts and he feels so painfully guilty for everything. He's destroyed everything.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head to the right. "Safe house is close." Jason starts walking, helmet in hand while Sam follows him.

The silence between you builds like a sturdy brick wall. It's in the silence that you have time to process everything. It's always the silence that acts as a marinade for all things fueled with anger and misery. Dick might be alive and Jason might be alive but Jason is the reason Dick died in the first place. He could have stopped. For two seconds, Jason could have called a truce and he didn't and Dick died for it. There never would have been a crowd. The kid with the gun wouldn't have been there and Dick wouldn't have gotten shot. Jason didn't pull the trigger, but he didn't have to. Dick stood there and told Jason the reason Dick won't kill him is because he knows what it's like to die. Well, so does Jason so why the fuck didn't Jason take that into consideration?

You know it was the drug but it bites and gnaws at you anyway because watching everyone you care about die is hacking away at you.

"You alright?" Jason finally asks. You being completely silent never sits quite well with him. There is nothing that sounds more deadly than your silence in moments like these.

"I don't know, Jay. I just watched Dick die and come back to life. What the fuck do you think?" You snap without processing your thought.

"The fuck you mad at me for now?" Jason snaps back. "I didn't pull the fucking trigger. I went there to talk." Jason barks, really not wanting to be reprimanded at the moment. He knows.

"You know what? You might as well have, Jason." You snap, your steps becoming harder against the pavement. "You could have stopped at any point and told him you just wanted to talk and explain it but you didn't. Not one part of you decided to do that. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why. So, Dick was killed because of that. You didn't do it. But that kid thinks he did the right thing to protect you. Dick wasn't even the enemy. So, that's shit." You let your own anger get the best of you, not even to tear him a part for it but just because you need to yell about it.

"It's not my fucking fault." Jason groans. "I didn't ask anyone to do that." Jason defends himself, knowing he's wrong.

"You don't have to!" You finally yell. "People will follow you like a damn cult because you command attention when you walk into a room. You are charismatic and enthralling. They have always been some of your best qualities but in this instance, it wasn't good. They believe in you, Jay." You look back over to him as Jason hangs his head, watching his feet hit the wet pavement. "But, Crane turned the city against the Titans, to follow you." You look forward as you shake your head. "I know I told you to work with him, but it didn't have to get to you and Dick fighting and him dying. It never had to end that way. You could turn them back to the right side." Your voice goes quiet with your last sentence earning you a glance from Jason.

"I didn't think he'd listen, alright? He was the one that set up the flash bang and came in ready for a fight. I didn't think it was any use and I didn't know those fucking people would be there. I..." Jason swallows his own words, not wanting to get into it.

You being willing to die for him is one thing. He hates it. He'd never let you if he could help it, especially having experienced what it's like to die. He would never. But, you love him. You have seen him at his good and bad. You've seen everything in between. Jason has fully exposed all of himself to you in every way anyone possibly could. And you would die for him. You would kill for him. No questions asked because you know Jason Todd better than he knows himself half the time. But these random people? They don't know him. Why the fuck would they kill someone for him? Why would they do that?

"I'm sorry, alright?" Jason's voice comes back down. "I know. I could have fucking done something and I didn't." Jason's saw clenches. "I'm fucking trying." His words are firm but there's a hopelessness in them.

"I know." You say quietly.

"I have a lot to make up for and I don't know if I'm gonna be able to do but I promise, I'm trying. I just...fucked it up." Jason's breath leaves his lips, the fog coming out in a haunting blow.

"I know...I just..." You shake your head. "I'm just really worried about all of you, all the time. You, Gar, Dick. You guys are the closest people to me besides Molly and I just...you're very important to me and this could be something so good and it was." You suck in a breath, the cold air starting to dry out your throat. "And I think we all deserve it. The Titans."

"Yeah..." Jason's shoulders slouch forward. "You do." Jason says quietly, keeping his stare ahead him even as you look over to him.

You've always deserved better than anything Gotham has given you. All this city has done is take everything you care about. And you only even started killing because of him. Even when Jason knows there's more to it, that was your breaking point. You're not shunned from being a Titan and maybe that'd be better for you.

"If you want to be a Titan after all of this, you should." Jason states in his way where he tries to sound really casual to hide his real feelings.

You snap your attention back to him. "Why would I do that?" You nearly scoffs at the very idea, especially coming from him.

"You're good at it and you like it. They like you and you fit in." Jason answers with ease, as if it were something he'd thought about more than a few times. "Why trap yourself here if you don't have to?"

It's as if the air is being pulled from your lungs by rusty hooks. How could he say that? He's here. Home is here. Molly is here. It's not a trap being in Gotham. Coming back, coming home, was a choice you made all on your own and not a single ounce of you even regrets it. You can't regret it. You got to reunite with Molly and while it has been agonizing lately, you had some of your best and favorite moments with Jason here. You got to make a different life again. It felt like home again. Here. Not in San Francisco. Why would he tell you to be a Titan?

"You want me to be a Titan?" You ask, doing your best to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Not up to me." Jason shrugs his shoulders casually, still keeping his stare away from you.

"That's not what I asked." You bite back, keeping your stare on him.

Jason looks back over to you as you reach the building. Jason opens the door for you, leading you in first before he shuts and locks the door behind you. You stand directly in front of him so he can't move once the door is shut. He doesn't get to avoid this conversation when he's the one that brought it up. If he wants you to leave, then he can tell you and then deal with the fact you will not.

"Answer me." You demand.

Jason looks to the right before looking back at you. He always thought you would anyway. After everything, it only makes sense to him for you to leave. You said San Francisco caused you so much pain that you didn't want to be there anymore. But, Gotham has caused you so much pain, you're not even the same person you were a month ago. He doesn't want you to leave but he wants you to be happy and he worries that just won't be here. Not with the track record.

"I always thought you would." Jason shrugs as his voice almost trails off.

"Because?" You search as your brows furrow. "What? I'd get bored of you? Tired of you?" Your eyes scan his face, knowing all of his insecurities. He can't hide from you like he can with everyone else.

Jason looks to the ground and back to you with the shrug of his shoulders. "No." Jason answers. "You didn't come back for me. Thought you'd figure it out and just...go back."

You narrow your eyes. "That's not the full reason." You say softly. "Tell me."

Jason shifts his weight, favoring his bad leg as it starts to ache. He shakes his head with defeat. "Just want you to be happy." Jason says honestly. "This place is fucking shit and you know it. And you hate Bruce but you don't wanna give this up. Bruce doesn't like other vigilantes in the city and..." Jason's heart breaks as he watches your expression fall. "Yeah, I thought you'd leave." Jason nods his head.

"Jay, I told--"

"Because I died." Jason cuts you off with a scoff. "That day on the roof, I fucking destroyed you. I died and it completely destroyed you. When you found out about the drug and Crane, then everything else, I thought you'd fucking leave."

"Yeah," You nod quickly as your eyes turn glassy. "It did destroy me. The whole damn thing hurt but that doesn't mean I want to leave. It doesn't mean I want to be a Titan." Your voice is almost pleading with him to not push without you ever saying it. "This is my home and Molly is here and my mom is buried here and you are here. I don't care if we're not together, you're here. The city is a shitshow so it needs us. It needs us and Batman to help."

"Are you sure?" Jason questions. "I mean, look at this place. I just want you to be happy. I don't fucking know."

You let out a sigh. "You didn't answer the question." You state as Jason opens his mouth. "I asked if you wanted me to. You just said you always thought I'd leave."

Jason shakes his head. "Of course not." Jason lets out a scoff, not even trying to lie or dodge it anymore.

"Good cause I'm not leaving, Jay." You nod your head. "I was always happiest here with you." Your words are barely above a whisper as you look to the floor. "So," You pull in a breath. "You don't have that to worry about. I was gonna stay anyway, no plans to leave again. Tired of running." Your voice turns airy, almost hopeful with your last sentence.

"I don't get you." Jason lets out a laugh that's filled with relief.

"Yeah, you do." You laugh softly. "You're the only one whoever did." You shrug your shoulders, moving past him to the stairs. "You know, you and Dick could probably bond over your whole dying experience now. Probably bring you closer." You offer with sarcasm earning a groan and then a laugh as Jason walks over to you.

"Oh, yeah? We sit down for a family dinner at the manor and tell Bruce all about it? Like a fucking field trip?" Jason quips right back as the two of you make your way upstairs.

"Yeah!" You laugh. "Hear me out, it might freak Bruce out which would be funny."

Jason shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Us getting along? Yeah, that'll freak Bruce out."

You nudge him lightly. "That'll freak everyone out, actually."

The two of you go upstairs into Jason's makeshift bedroom. You head over to the window to look at the people down below. Everyone is fending for themselves and there are still fires in the streets. There aren't any cars this time. There are always cars.

You lean against the wall and slide down, keeping your head turned towards the window as Jason keeps his distance, watching you closely as he traps himself in his own head again. While you have been on Jason's side, you've also actively been trying to make sure the Titans are at a distance and safe from Jason. You can say you've always been on Jason's side this whole time and maybe that's true, but you also were entirely in the middle. It was never Titans or Jason for you. You were always determined to cut the wire. It was always going to be all of them even if it killed you.

Jason remembers you willing to die for him, how terrifying that was. No one in his entire life was ever willing to do that. Maybe Bruce would have but it's something Jason isn't sure of. He was sure of you. Deathstroke proved that and you confirmed it that night. You would die for him because you love him and Jason always thought that was absurd, even if he'd die for you, too. Dying for you seemed to be the easiest thing he would do if it came to it. But you dying for him? Insane. It had to be insanity but these past two weeks have taught him something else entirely.

You would just die for anyone you loved if that's what it took.

There is not a doubt in Jason's mind that you would put your life in danger for Gar. Of course, you would. He's Gar. Everyone would probably do it. There's Molly and Jason actually feels bad for anyone who would even think of coming after her. You'd die for Tim because of course you would. You care about him and Tim is determined and smart. Krypto is no question. You loved Donna and thought she was the coolest Titan, that's easy. You thought Kory was one of the coolest and most badass people you'd ever met while also being immensely kind. You told Jason once that the Titans need her. So, you'd die for her, too. Jason isn't entirely sure of the big reason you'd save Conner or Dawn or Hank but he knows you would. And then there's Dick. You'd save Dick because he's the leader. Because he saved your life. Because you look up to him. Because he's important to everyone.

It's not that you would die for Jason. It's that you would die for anyone you love if it ever came to it. Jason would be lying if he said he doesn't admire that. Though, he wonders if that's what will be your last straw or if you'll understand one day that you shouldn't have to die for the people you care about. Jason swore he'd die for you. That part was easy but the more time that passes, the more he's realizing he wants to live for you. Living is harder. He hopes you learn that, too. You deserve to want to live for someone and for yourself.

"What's with the symbol?" You snap Jason from his thoughts.

"What?" Jason questions, almost doing a double take.

"The rip off bat symbol. Your idea or Crane's?" You ask bluntly as your eyes dart between his and the red symbol on his chest.

Jason looks down to his chest where the red symbol stares up at him. "Mine." Jason chuckles softly, a devilish grin pushing itself onto his lips. "Why?" He asks and he walks over to the other side of the window from you, sliding down the wall and matching your position.

You let out a soft laugh as you shrug. "Funny that's what you would pick given you thought he didn't kill the Joker for you." You pull in a breath. "Why?"

Jason shrugs. "Fuck Bruce." Jason answers easily as if the answer were so simple anyone could have figured it out, as if he isn't neglecting the entire explanation.

The bat symbol represents Bruce's way of thinking. Inciting fear into the hearts of everyone so they don't do bad things. It works, sometimes. But, it doesn't work enough. The bat symbol represents a certain moral compass where even under the worst of circumstances, killing is still wrong. It represents Bruce. Jason wanted something to almost mock him, a fuck you and watch this to Bruce. Fear doesn't always work. It's not the best way. For Jason, he needed something to spite Bruce, prove his methods will be better because there should never be another Jason. Or Dick. Or any of them. No one should have to suffer the way all of them have. It was to represent everything Bruce refused to do for the greater good.

But Bruce did kill The Joker so Jason feels lost.

But then you offer this warm smile, one that says you understand every single thought in his mind without him ever having to explain.

"Yeah..." You sigh softly. "Fuck Bruce." You laugh softly. "I like it, by the way. Bruce only killed him for you. He never would have under any other circumstances." You pause before you tilt your head to the left quickly, raise your brows. "Well, he might have for Dick, too. But, it would have to be one of you. So...good for you, Jay." You nod your head softly.

"Don't think it's fucked?" Jason chortles.

"Oh, no it definitely is." You nod quickly. "I mean, just when I think I've got some daddy issues, I meet you and Dick. It's definitely fucked. But, like it anyway." You smile but Jason doesn't quite match it. There's a sadness washing itself over his face. "I think Gotham will like it, too." You say quietly.

"Yeah? Why?" Jason repositions, pulling his right leg to his chest. "Because I'm charismatic and enthralling?" A touch of a grin finds itself on his lips.

"Fuck you, no." You laugh softly. "They're brainwashed but...I think it took one video because you've already been out there controlling the drug trade, looking to get into guns. You've taken out some really terrible people and are trying to get this shit under control. They already liked you."

"I also helped get a drug onto the streets and contributed to everything with Crane." Jason points out.

"Yeah, but you've been distancing yourself and you also tried to save Nightwing. I mean, you tried to kill him, too but you just tried to save him and they'll remember that. They'll figure out Crane brainwashed them and see you were also brainwashed."

"I guess we'll see." Jason lets out a scoff. "But, thanks." Jason offers you a nod.

"Just being honest." You pull in a breath as you move your stare back to the window. "You gonna keep Red Hooding after this is over then?" You look back at him with hopeful eyes.

Jason shrugs. "Yeah, maybe." Jason nods his head softly. "Especially with Bruce fucking MIA." Jason gives you a soft smile. "You gonna keep this shit up?"

"Absolutely." You nod with confidence. "You're right, I do like it. The vigilantism, I mean." Your smile turns kind and loving. "You're a good Red Hood. You're gonna help a lot of people, Jay." Your smile is warm and honest, filling Jason's entire chest with hope.

"So are you." Jason matches the smile before the two of you look to the window, falling into a comfortable silence.

You get a text from Dick, apparently, the towers are back and running which is a relief but according to his text, Crane released some of his smoke downtown. He leaves the text with a warning for you and Jason to stay where you are until the smoke dies down or until he says otherwise. So, the two of you seem to be stuck here for the night.

You're safe here, entirely. You don't have to worry about the smoke or anyone coming to kill you. You're safe from it all for the first time in weeks and it's as if, weirdly as it is, you both can breathe freely. It doesn't feel like your very breath can shatter the illusion of peace. You both are allowed to breathe freely and openly.

You let your mind wander anywhere but to the disaster outside. The more you're in these situations, the more you're learning to compartmentalize it. There is no choice in this. It has to be done otherwise it'll eat you. You wonder how Dick is able to do it so well. Surely that's how he's so good at being Nightwing. He isn't heartless, he just shelves what he needs to until after a mission. It's something you need to be better at and so you sit here tonight and try to do it. You focus on anything but the disaster.

And then there's Jason who finds his mind going to your previous conversation a few minutes ago. You think he can be a hero again. He can use Red Hood for good, do it his own way. He lifts his head, looking over at you and how peaceful you look. You really do trust him. You really do just believe in him, after everything, there's something in you that believes in him even when you absolutely should not.

Jason keeps his eyes on you, wondering if you're right. He hopes you are. Jason just wants to help. That's what he wants to do. That's all he's wanted to do. That was supposed to be the plan before Crane showed his true motive. Jason wants to help the innocent people Bruce overlooks. Sex workers, sexual assault victims, domestic violence survivors, children who are put in all of these situations. A lot of them never make it onto Bruce's radar. He's busy dealing with everything else and a lot more of it happens in places like Crime Alley, somewhere Bruce doesn't go unless it's the anniversary of his parents' death. Someone needs to keep them safe, too. He wants to control the crime because he does believe that's the right way. No one can stop crime. That's impossible. But, Jason thinks he can control it. It's worth a shot. Someone needs to try. That's what he wants to do.

Maybe he can do it.

"I can feel you staring at me, Jay." You state as you look back over at him.

"Sorry." Jason mutters, feeling heat rush over his cheeks as he looks back outside.

"What's going inside that head of yours?" You ask.

Jason looks back to you, letting a beat pass before he settles on what to say. "Thanks for believing in me and being here." Jason pulls in a breath.

"Always." You say softly before it goes quiet again.

Time ticks by and it's you that ends up glancing towards Jason. He's holding his bad leg to his chest, seeming to be absentmindedly massaging the muscle of his thigh with his thumbs as he keeps his stare out the window. The white streak reflects off the lights from the window and the bruises are bright red from Dick's fists and enimga sticks. But, he doesn't look stressed this time. He looks content for once. And you always think there's hope for him but his position confirms it.

Which, lets your mind wander back to how you and him were. It wanders back to the night outside Excellent Gotham. It was the right thing to do. There is good, there is bad, and there is all of this grey in between. Something might be the right thing to do, for the greater good, to save someone, but that doesn't always make it fair or just or painless. It was the right thing to do, to save Jason. But, you wonder in the silence of the night, what happens after then. The bell has been rung and you're dealing with it but it doesn't feel good. Being around him feels like you're trying to breathe through water. You don't want to give up on you and him. You're gonna take out Crane, the Titans are going to leave, Bruce will probably come back, and it'll start to fall back into a new normal. And you want to know what kind of new normal that's going to be.

You want the new normal to still be you and him.

But you don't even want to ask about it. You hurt him and it just doesn't feel right to ask even if it'll gnaw at you until you do.

"I can feel you staring." Jason quips, looking at you, saying it on purpose.

You roll your eyes but the smile never reaches your eyes before it falls. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." You mock him, waving a hand haphazardly at him before you get to your feet and stretch before you lean your back against the wall. You look back at Jason and you can tell by the raise of his brows and his wide eyes, he's expecting you to elaborate. You let out a defeated sigh. "Hey, Jay?"

"Yes?" Jason answers expectantly.

"Where do we stand?" You ask bluntly. "I mean....you and me." You nod once. "After all of this and everything. I'll follow your lead." You nod a few times. "Ball's in your court this time."

As much as you would like to go to the roof and scream your lungs out about how much you want to be with him and how much you love him, you know you can't. None of that is fair to him. Jason Todd was murdered and then came back from the dead. He was used and abused and manipulated. He's not fine and he should be able to learn how to live now, rediscover who he is after all of this if he needs to. You telling him you want to go right back to where you were before he died, sounds cruel. It's as if you won't give him a choice, like you expect him to just be normal and you don't. So, you ask him and you let it be his decision because it should be. It was you that ended things anyway and it was you that betrayed him, more than he betrayed you is the way you see it.

Jason feels his heart in his throat. He hates this but he knows there is no other choice. He swears this one fucking time, he is not doing it to push. He is doing it for himself and for you. He owes you more. He owes you more than he has ever given you. He owes himself more.

You have said it over and over that Jason is loved and he is not alone, at the very least, he has you and he is loved by you. There is not a single day that he is not eternally grateful for you. But, that's not enough. It's not enough because, after everything, Jason still feels like he is not enough. He watches the chaos he has brought on all of these people who he cares about and who care about him. Someone who is enough, doesn't do that. And he died. The trauma of that isn't going to go away because you love him and he loves you. He desperately wishes it were so simple, but it's not.

Jason swore he would never hurt you but he thinks about that night outside of Excellent Gotham and how it looked like it was ripping you to shreds to end things and to give up on him, even if you never meant it. You didn't deserve it. He needs to figure himself out and sort out some of this pain in his chest before it metastasizes more. He needs to just exist for a second and work on who he is after coming back. He owes it to himself and then he owes it to you. It's not fair to continue something if he isn't sure he'll be okay in the end of this. That's not fair to either of you.

So, as much as it physically pains him, he knows where you stand.

"Uh..." Jason pulls in a breath and you know. Jason doesn't stutter often. "I really fucking hurt you." Jason nods his head.

"I hurt you..." You hang your head in shame before looking back to him.

"Yeah, deserved it though." Jason lets out a scoff before he shakes his head. "Look," Jason starts as he pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, standing in front of you. "I don't want to ever hurt you again." Jason states and you know there is a but coming. This is not going to end the way you dreamed it would. "So, I think-think we need to sort our shit out."

You hang your head, feeling the lump in your throat. It was as if the night you ended things, it wasn't quite real. He was high and you were mad. Then you rescued him and it's been kind of weird ever since. It didn't feel quite like you broke up but it didn't feel like you were together. It has felt like this weird state of in-between where you're tripping over each other trying to find the right footing. And now, it seems you've found it in an unknown territory. It's scary.

It's scary because after being rescued, Jason is one of the only things you know. And you know that it's going to be good for you to find yourself without him, find out who you are outside of Jason and the Titans. It's for the best and you know. But, you also know Jason and Jason Todd has always loved to avoid things that are good for him. Good to him. What if he avoids this forever and this is really it?

"I'm sorry." Jason says quietly.

"It's okay." You nod up at him. "You're, uh, you're right. You died."

As much as you saw it coming, you feel blindsided. You are not together. He is not breaking up with you because you did it first. But, it feels that way anyway. He is right. You need time and space to heal and deal with everything that's happened. Maybe you could do that together but maybe you need to figure out who you are now. You are not the same people you were before he died. Jason Todd died that day and so did you. You need to just exist without each other even if it is the most painful thing either of you will ever do.

Jason nods. "Yeah," He scoffs. "It's not fucking fair to you or me if we jump into this shit again."

You nod softly. "Yeah...you're right." You push off the wall, closing the distance between you. "For what it's worth, I'm still sorry for everything that's happened to you, Jay." You sniffle softly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, too." Jason lets out a soft sigh, looking to the floor before he looks back to you. He will find his way back to you because you're everything he's ever wanted and he wants to deserve you one day. "Friends?" He asks, sticking out his hand with the quick raise of his brows.

"For now." You take his hand in yours. "We'll find our way back." You say softly but with certainty.

"Hope so." Jason quips right back with a cheeky grin. "I'll miss you being up my ass all the time."

You roll your eyes as a smile starts to fade over your lips. "Shut the fuck up." You groan, making Jason chuckle softly. "You're my favorite person, ya know?"

"And you're mine." Jason says simply, without hesitance.

The room falls silent, the two of you still holding each other's hand right in the middle of you. It's as if you aren't sure how to backtrack. How do you go back to being friends? You were never meant to be friends. There was always something more there. Something strong and tender, throbbing and beating like a desperate heart pumping blood through an open artery. You have stained each other with every scar and crumb of yours. How do you take it back? How do you cleanse yourselves and try again? Can you even do it?

Jason's grip on your hand tightens and he doesn't want to leave it like that. As friends. The very idea is bitter and stale. He knows it's for the best. For the first time in his life, he is doing something to better himself and protect you. It's not just self-destruction this time. He wants to be better for himself. He never wants to get here again. And to do that, he needs to do it on his own. Jason won't risk dragging you down with him again as he drowns himself. He's not sure if he'll come out the other end alive this time, but he's willing to try for himself. And then for you. But, that doesn't make this whole thing easier. He still loves you. He still wants you.

You feel it, too. You know he wants to reach forward, pull you into him just for old times sake. You're going to defeat Crane tonight, one way or another, and then you'll go your separate ways for a little bit...as friends. But you think about the last time you had a proper kiss, before you knew you'd end up here. He was alive again. It was a kiss of relief. That's not how you want it to end. You fully believe you will come together again but what if you don't?

The idea makes your stomach twist into knots. And you know Jason isn't going to act on it, out of respect for you. It's the way his hand squeezes yours, the way he won't let go and how he has that dark but kind look in his eyes. The way he is intentionally holding his stance just enough away as if he'll walk into a bear trap with one step forward. He'll never act on it out of respect for your space so when Jason finally starts to move away, you pull him back.

Jason eyes you and then the very corner of your mouth twitches up as you squeeze his hand, pulling him just a little closer to you. You move your eyes up with the raise of your brows before looking back to him and then you shrug effortlessly.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck it." Jason lets out in a single breath before dropping your hand and cupping your face, slamming his lips against yours.

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 2 years

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༉‧₊˚. 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 || 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧

― pairings: daryl dixon x bimbo plus size!reader

― era: early season 9

― summary: you needed more clothes, and daryl was more than willing to spoil you.

― warnings: literally nothing! it's just fluff and the reader being very dense :`]

― wc: 1773

⋆ a/n: i loved writing this more than i love air, so i hope you guys enjoy this because i know i do.

masterlist | AO3

In any other lifetime, Daryl would’ve ignored girls like you; the ones that weren't as bright, that always had a question, that never knew what was going on, practically having a head filled with air. How you were still alive when Daryl had first met you was beyond him, because you were definitely the type that wouldn't be able to survive the apocalypse. He should've left you to die, but he quickly learned that your presence had easily brought joy to the group.

At first, he stayed away from you, but it was as if you flocked to him, following him around like a lost puppy. Anyone else would have been annoyed with the way you stuck to him— even though he'll never admit it— he liked that you always needed his help, that he was the first person you sought out. He quickly became your protector; you almost ran into a door? He's placing a hand on your shoulder to lead you the right way. You can't figure out why your gun is out bullets? Your gun that had miraculously disappeared is now back and the chamber’s loaded. Out of your favorite pink lip gloss? There's a new tube waiting for you on your desk. He always hovered, he always knew what you needed, and he made damn sure he could provide for you.

It wasn't hard to figure out that he was in love with you, and many people found it amusing— especially the leaders of the kingdom, and Alexandria. You were total opposites, and maybe that's just what Daryl needed.

Now here you were, practically fuming because of your lack of clothing. With Rick honoring Carl, and Daryl being his right-hand man, you weren't able to go out shopping. It's not that Daryl didn't trust the others to take you out, you were the one that actually preferred him there— mostly because you felt a lot safer with him— but also because you needed his opinion on what clothes you should get. Even if you liked it, you wanted him to like it too, because he was your boyfriend, and he would have to see you wear them everyday.

You must admit that Daryl had ended up dictating most of your wardrobe; from your perfume to certain shirts, and pants, and sometimes down to your bra and underwear. It wasn't like he had insisted on it like some control freak, but he knew it was something that would make you happy, so he obliged.

You huffed sadly, looking at your black-to-pink clothing ratio— which was unmistakably Daryl's. You had no idea when he would come home, and you were starting to get fidgety. Back before the world fell, you loved to shop, it was your favorite past time, practically robbing the poor stores blind with your friends. You stood there in your hot pink tank top, your underwear having the word ‘Baby’ bedazzled across your ass— Daryl had begrudgingly allowed you to take it home when he heard the excited squeal you let out when you saw the pair, which was one out of the many in the pack.

Your bedroom door opened, causing excitement to course through your veins as you turned around to look at your favorite archer, the man setting his trusty crossbow against the wall. You could see the crown sticker you had put on the handle of it, Daryl always threatening to rip the “stupid” thing off— even though you both knew that he ended up gluing it on there.

“Baby!” You squealed, practically throwing yourself on him. He pulled you flush against his body as you showered his face in never ending kisses, smearing your lip gloss all over his forehead, cheeks, and lips. “You're home! Oh, I've missed you so much!” He chuckled fondly at your enthusiasm, hands falling to the exposed skin of your waist, which was a product of your squirming.

“I missed ya too, sunshine.” You pulled your face away from his so that your arms were looped around his neck, peering up at him through those pretty eyelashes of yours. “So, I was thinking that my closet was looking like it needed more clothes.” He raised an eyebrow, his lips tugged up in the corners in amusement. “Is that so?” You nodded with a big smile on your face. “Yep! And I need you to come with me.” He looked conflicted as his left hand reached up to caress the side of your face.

“I dunno.” You gave him the best puppy dog eyes that you could muster, pouting your now barely glossed lips. “C'mon, D. It's been so long since I've been on a real shopping trip, and wouldn't it be a good time to go on a date?” He let out a defeated groan. He couldn't say no to you, he hated that he couldn't, and he also hated how you knew and took advantage of it.

“Alrigh’, we'll go tomorrow.” You let out a happy noise as you showered him in affection once more. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You all but cried. “You're the best, bear.” You were the only one that was allowed to call him ‘’Bear.” You had claimed that it sounded familiar to Dar, which was another nickname you had gracefully given him. “Don’ go shoutin’ that.” You giggled, placing a peck on his nose. “No promises, Bear.” You teased.

As the next day came, you were up early, your body thrumming in enthusiasm as you thought of finally getting out of the walls for a while. You wiggled out of Daryl's unconscious embrace, the older man rolling over onto his back where you took full advantage of straddling his waist. You dragged your hands down his bulky chest, running your fingers through the patch of hair on his chest, down over his peck to trace around the tattoo that laid inked there. You bent down, your still shirt covered chest pressing against his, placing kisses from his lips to his neck, nibbling softly on the skin.

“Bear…” You whined softly, “You've gotta get up. You promised.” He groaned, large calloused palms resting on your full thighs. “Well good mornin’ to ya too.” You joined your lips together softly, Daryl closing his eyes so he could be surrounded with everything that was you. As you broke off the kiss, your peered into his eyes, Daryl looking into yours with admiration of his own.

“Alrigh’,” He sighed, “’M gettin’ up.” You cheered, landing one last kiss on his pursed mouth, bouncing off of him to find something to wear.

The ride to the store was nice, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. As he assisted you getting off of the bike, you couldn't help but ask, “Bear, does my makeup look okay?” Even when it was the apocalypse, you still liked to do your makeup. His thumb came up to gently wipe off some pink eyeshadow that had fallen onto your cheek. “Ya look beautiful.” You smiled at him, your body flushing. “Ya ready?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take. “Mhm.”

He had made sure every square inch of the store was cleared before allowing you to even step foot inside, insisting that you wait outside of it. When his sweep was done, he had reappeared to come and get you, tugging you inside and into the clothing section.

“Dar, look at all of these dresses!” You announced in awe. You gently touched the material, twisting the fabric between your fingers before letting go.

The next hour consisted if you throwing things in Daryl's awaiting arms, the man hauling around the items until you had reached the dressing rooms. You took all of the clothes out of his arms, Daryl collapsing in a chair with a disgruntled, but yet relieved grunt.

“’M too old fer this shit.” He all but complained.

As he watched you disappear behind the old curtain, he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of normality. He knew for a fact that if the world still functioned the way it did, he would have never carried around clothes, or allowed someone to call him bear, or even touch his prized crossbow. He couldn't help but think that maybe— just maybe —you would be doing this with him if the dead had stayed dead. If Merle could see him now he'd call him pussy whipped for a skirt. He could almost hear him say it, a chuckle exiting his body at the thought of his older brother’s crude teasing.

The air got lodged in his throat as he watched you model a pair of low-rise denim shorts. He could see the tattoo above your ass on your lower back clear as day, three stars sat above either cheek.

“I figured these would be good for when it warms up.” You have him one last twirl before awaiting his approval. “Yea, it looks good. 'Real airy.” You giggled in satisfaction. “I know right?!” You disappeared back into the small room before popping back out in a light pink no strap tube top, even lighter pink feathers lining the top band above your breasts.

“What do you think?” You asked, a glimmer in your eye in your eyes that clearly states that you loved the thing. “Can that thing even be considered a shirt?” He snorted, but it was all just teasing to ruffle your feathers— no pun intended. “Ya look like a flamingo.” You whined at his faux insults, throwing him a weak glare. “Dar, don't be mean! I like it.” He blew out an overdramatic raspberry before focusing back on you.

“I like it. 'Would look good with that skirt I saw ya throw at me.” Your head perked up as if you were the one that had the idea yourself. “You're so right!” You rushed to squeeze to the skirt on, not even bothering to shut the curtain as you bent over.

Today, your panties read, ‘Sweetheart.’

It went on like that for what seemed like hours before you had finally left the store, the clothes that you wanted being shoved into old bags that Daryl had found— which he inevitably ended up carrying as well.

“Thank you so much for today, Bear.” You said tiredly. You fell face first onto his firm chest, breathing in his earthy scent. “Ain’ no problem, darlin’.” He wrapped his arms around you, his hands still clasped with the baggage.

You leaned up, pressing a sweet, glossed kiss to his cheek, smearing the product on his scruff, a feeling that Daryl will always welcome.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02

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tenok · 2 months

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Still fuming about «Crowley’s so queer it makes Aziraphale looks straight» take. I saw some people saying «queer is not a political identity» as an argument against it... and actually I disagree. Queer is an identity that’s as much about politics and community as is about gender and orientation. «Queer as in fuck you» indeed! And while I’m pretty sure that if you’ll ask Aziraphale he will say that he’s queer because mentally he still in times where it was term preferred by community as whole (or he’ll say that «gay» is his gender because he still links gender and orientation together and it’s a habit thats hard to break), I’ll argue that he’s definitely queer by definition. And I won’t say that one of them more or less queer, I want to vomit just from thinking this, but he and Crowley definitely different flavors of queer; and the point is community.

See, the Crowley we see is not the very community-oriented being. He despises angels and demons alike, he’s not close with humans, through whole series we saw him connected with Aziraphale, maybe Warlock, Shadwell to some point and only as a subordinate he’s not really interested in (Aziraphale actually remembered all the names of soldiers Shadwell pulled from his ass, on the other hand [book, also in script if I remember correctly]). But for Aziraphale community is the whole deal. He links himself to communities: community of book collectors, for example ([in book at least]), community of angels (even in season two he regretfully said that he misses reporting back to his lot), as soon as he put his roots there he become part of British and specifically London community (immediately clocked as British by everyone, for better or for worse). And he’s clearly consider himself and considered by others as part of queer community. For example:

He’s clocked as specifically effeminate gay man (which is part of queer umbrella oh my god stop misuse of political slogans gay are not some kind of others that are lesser for being gay!!!) by everyone, to the point of getting called homophobic slurs (twice in book, once in series) and being targeted by literal Nazis. He’s not arguing or denying, he reclaims it: he’s not calling himself gay, he’s proudly declaring that he’s THE southern pansy (not very «hurray establishment» of him hmmm?). He looks so gay and safe that cemetery man from season 2 doesn’t see a problem in telling him he uses grindr!

Tied to this: he can present as anyone else, he chooses to look soft, gay, effeminate, he chooses to make silly sounds and flamboyant gestures, and as soon as he gets comfortable he likes to go a little campy (can you imagine Crowley in ribbons and frills? do we see male-presenting Crowley in pink silky shoes? would he fight to the death before you put him into pencil-drawen moustache and bright cape with shiny starts? yes he’s GNC! there’s more then one way to be GNC and one is not better then other because it’s in black and sexy!). I’ll argue that him choosing one comfortable presentation and stick to this is no less groundbreaking by heavens standards then «hoarding all the genders» since he’s not treats his corporation as «meat suite», he really had an identity tied to it!

And using this identity he becomes part of 100 guineas club. Part of gay/queer (it was in times where this distinction was meaningless) community with fellow queers, where he learned queer ways, such as dances, becoming part of queer culture as a whole (and should I remind you that back in days drag was mandatory part of such clubs? if we measuring queerness by how close it to cross-dressing apparently). He also collects literature by queer authors, immersing himself in this culture, again. Do I remember correctly that Oscar Wilde gifted him one of his books specifically? So we can safely assume he hangs with queer authors as well? Correct me if it’s not in canon (I’m freely mixing tv and book canon there btw although usually I treat them as two different things)

He also lives in Soho. He specifically chooses to live there, knowing perfectly well what a neighborhood it is (even back in 1600s it already had a Reputation). He knows what it says about him and he aims for it! (Crowley lives in Mayfair because it says something about him too — remember that while Aziraphale constructed himself around being soft and gay, Crowley intentionally made himself look as irrating rich asshole. If this asshole has vibes of sinister gay that would gladly corrupt you if you ask nicely, that’s another story) He is a part of this community! As a word of god, he: speaks Polari freely because he used it… with other queers (as oppose to Crowley that knows «bits» because he hangs out with criminals); he hide incriminating things from fellow Soho residents back when there were police raids (breaking law to help those in need is reacurring theme with him!). He still part of this community, he knows people, people knows him, he literally gives place to lesbian women for free so she can have her dream shop (supporting your local queer business!) (also great call back to Edingurg minisode! Aziraphale, personal saint of broke lesbians!)

I’ll also argue that letting in first Gabriel and next Muriel was a very queer of him. Queers help other queers: he may not like Gabriel, but «he has no other friends» (and he's homeless after being kicked out from heavens after disaster forbidden love affair with other queer being, hmmm? paralleles with reality of being queer much?), so he steps in. And Muriel, while being the same age as those two (we're NOT child-coding Muriel in this house), vibes as queer youth in needs of guidance, and Aziraphale, that had every right to be suspicious and cold to them, immediately lets them into safety of his shop and tries to be nice and supporting in both older queer and older ND cousin way.

So, in conclusion: Aziraphale is a queer being, that likes to make it clear that he’s queer and queer GNC man specifically; he’s part of queer community for at least couple hundred of years, participant in queer culture, and he watches out for other queers, helping his own as much as he can, using his money and other resources and breaking law to do so when needed. What there can make him look straight even as a joke?

Crowley is absolutely a queer being too, in very queer love with other queer being, and I'm sure he has a blast pocking into rules and boundaries of genders, orientations and all kinds of relationships since he loves questioning and testing so much. He also has a cool rebellious aesthetic and «fuck all» attitude, so it’s understandable that he becomes tumblrs queer icon (and being played by David Tennant helps for sure). But if you ask them both where’s local shelter for homeless queers located, one of them will have an answer and it won’t be a Crowley, or he wouldn’t sleep in his car (I'm joking), and this is as much of the part of being queer as having cool aesthetic or being kicked from home (I'm joking again). And it's a shame that some people want to make a competention out of it, because it gives us infinity possibilities to discuss their different experiences and choices, down to what their respective aesthetic choices says about them, and how they can use their strong sides to support each other! But alas.

#good omens #aziraphale defense squad #bad takes that won't let me sleep at night #makes Aziraphale look straight my ass #that's a nice post! bitchy one will stay in my head!#btw I wouldn't spend my time at it if person that wrote that take made a honest mistake trying to joke but apparently it's not their first #bad take so while I don't want to pick a fight I want to at least rant

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albentelisa · 1 month

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What do you think make Jlaire So Special.

Can't say for sure why it's like that, so I'll just share why Jlaire clicks so much with me.

To be honest, at the time when I got into Trollhunters, I had a phase of 'I'd prefer no romance in media I consume' as I was sick and tired of some ships' pointless drama. Jlaire definitely pulled me out of that one, hehe. And why?

It's healthy and at times surprisingly mature for two teens.

Jim and Claire are clearly different, with their own interests, but not in a way 'opposite attracts' - they still share values or how they treat their dear people. It's more like they complete each other.

The show keeps it subtle when exactly their relationship went from simple friendship to romance. When Claire calls Jim her boyfriend in Season 2 during Hero with the Thousand Faces, they are obviously in a relationship for some time.

Unlike many other media, we had no need to wait until the very end (or close to the ending) for Jlaire to happen as they are together by the end of Season 1.

Moreover, we don't get any silly dramas, misunderstandings, or love triangles (and no, Douxie doesn't count, because it was momentarily and not serious) to spice things up - just the wholesome and steady development of Jim and Claire's relationship. And I mellow every single time at how physical Jim and Claire are in Wizards. Just aww.

They are a power couple - both are capable of saving each other and protecting each other's back.

They both don't put their romantic feelings above everything else but integrate those into their lives. Not only that, they both also understand that their lover has different aspects of their life. Claire perfectly realizes how much of an integral part of Jim's life Toby and Barbara are. And it's the same for Jim.

They both won't give up on their lover, willing to risk their own lives to save them.

And I'm pretty sure that not only Claire, but Jim as well will stay with his lover, no matter what shape she will take.

#tales of arcadia #toa trollhunters #toa wizards #toa meta #my headcanons #jlaire #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #text post #ask box #theslayerbrother

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honeystwiggypeach · 8 months

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Dad Eddie where Lucille shoplifts and she’s only a small child and she doesn’t understand that you can’t just take things. Maybe she pulls out the crocodile tears when confronted?

Omg!!! Tysm for requesting this I haven’t written anything in like so long but I love writing Lucille and Eddie so pls let me know if you want me to write anything else for them!!

Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Dad!Eddie series!!

It happened on a quick little trip to the grocery store. Eddie didn’t even notice. You were home cooking diner and couldn’t for the life of you find the seasoning you needed for the dish, so you sent Lucy and Eddie to the grocery store for more garlic powder. Of course while there Lucy and Eddie got distracted with the soups…he ended up buying two cans of some chicken noodle soup Lucille insisted she needed. While Eddie is turning to read the types of soups Lucille sees those little fish tanks you add water to that makes the fish inside grow, and grabs it off the shelf putting it in her pocket. When Eddie turns back he asks for her preference on two types of soups.

It’s not until he’s buckling her into her car seat that he notices, his eyes widen as Lucille pulls the toy out waving the package at Eddie. His eyes widen because he finds himself in a predicament. He loves his daughter a lot, and sometimes struggles to correct her when she does something wrong, but he also knows that if he doesn’t correct her behavior she’ll think it’s ok to steal! But he also thinks it will be just mortifying to go in and tell them…’my toddler just stuffed this in her pocket…sorry’ even though it happens to tons of people!

So he turns to Lucy, “Lucille” he whispers to her with wide eyes “where did you get that?”

And Lucy just points to the store so this prompts Eddie reluctantly walking back with Lucy with five dollars his hand to tell the cashier what had happened.

Anyways I didn’t know how to end this so it seems abrupt😭pls let me know if you want to request something! Also noticing now I forgot crocodile tears but I feel like she definitely would end up crying if Eddie explains why stealing is bad cause she says she doesn’t want to be a thief.

Tag list~ @miracleboysel @jessyballet @reticent-writer @bubbledtee @marishortcake @marrigold-2002 @griffinfinity @jvmisvu @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @ruinedbythehobbit @k-k0129 @lacunaanonymoused

#reader insert #x reader #anons #requests #st4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson st4 #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #Eddie x reader #Eddie munson

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iamacolor · 4 months

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2023 sewing projects - part 1 details at the end of the post (click here for part 2)

Note: I work for a fabric shop so I get most of my fabrics for free as well as some patterns as I have to be wearing our products at work (I definitely consider it a perk). Without this job I would not be sewing as much and I'd probably be buying most of my fabric second hand or on sale as I used to do before. I also sometimes sew during work hours so keep that in mind if you're also a sewist, go at your own rythm 💜 Although I have basic training in pattern drafting I prefer to sew from pre-existing patterns to save on time (as i have to regularly make myself some new clothes for work) and discover new techniques and styles - but I often change stuffs to adapt the designs to my style.

1 - first outfit for my friend's wedding (this one was for the henna night), it's made in a linen-viscose blend and it's very easy and quick to make + i can easily wear each piece separately!

2 - second outfit for my friend's wedding made out of 100% silk muslin (it was a big remnant i found on sale) - i ended up making made a lot of changes from the base pattern: i lenghtened the sleeves a lot, i changed the skirt piece as the og one was too short for me and also too wide for my narrow fabric so i just cut rectangles in the desired length and gathered everything at the waist - the skirt is fully lined both in silk and in lining fabric - I also took a lot in at the middle back and some on the sides (i would've have loved to make a toile but sadly a nasty tendinitis kept me away from sewing for a few months so i had to speed things up before the wedding)

3 - i made this bodysuit last week - it was my first time working on a knit fabric in a while and i should have lenghtened it a bit more than i already did as the shoulder seams are being slightly pulled back - in a viscose/polyester milano knit + modified pants from a magazine in a viscose , large pants in fluid fabrics like that are great for all seasons as i can easily put some tights on underneath when it's too cold. I'm so glad i found a knitted fabric to match the print on the pants!

4/5 - this dress and blouse have the same base pattern from the same book but i modified the end of the sleeves on both (they were supposed to be gathered on a wrist band and closed with buttons) to create a ruffle effect with an elastic - on the dress i took out the collar piece and slightly adjusted the side seams to make them more fitting + i traced another skirt piece based on the back of the skirt in pic1 and added a ruffle at the bottom - the dress is made in a viscose twill and the top in a coton double gauze

6/7 - both of these tops are made from the same pattern, i simply lenghtened the sleeves for the checkered version and on both i tightened the sleeve band - it's a very quick pattern to make. The dotted one is made from a very fine coton corduroy and the checkered one is in a coton double gauze. The pants are made in a thicker corduroy, I'm very much in between sizes when it comes to pants (depending on the brands I cover around 4 sizes between my waist and my thighs at their thickest) I ended up cutting the size for my thighs and simply deepening the folds and the darts to make it fit at the waist + I wanted a loser fit on the legs so i added 1cm on each side

8 - this shirt is made in a linen and viscose blend (same fabric as the pink matching set) except for the contrasting blue elements which are in linen-coton - i had fun playing with the classic shirt finishing and deciding what to do in blue (the buttonholes are threaded in blue!)

9/10 - this top is made from a simple coton gauze, the bodice is lined with the same fabric (super quick to make although the fact that the right and wrong side are the same means i've put in on wrong at least twice lmao) - the pants are made in coton gabardine (i've also had to trace between sizes here - this is a us sizes pattern and for this i'm in between 6 and 10 with a slight redrawing of the crotch and the side seams under the pockets) I love this pattern because it comes in a slim legs version, a straight one, a wide version (this one) and a short version. I've made another large version in orange and a slim version in white.

11 - these pants are made in a coton-linen twill - pretty straightforward in their making, as always I am in between sizes for pants so I cut a size 10 (can't remember if this was in us or uk sizes)and ended up having to do my usual changes for pants by deepening the front folds and the back darts (which I also had to make longer to accomodate not just for my waist circumference which is 2 sizes smaller than my thighs but also the arch of my back). Really like how large the belt is and how the fold is pressed all the way down the leg. I wore it with the green top, a red jacket and gold shoes for christmas eve!

#aleks if you're seeing this you're kind of an inspo for the last look it's just that I don't wear black #also if anyone wants more details on which patterns i used let me know!#vinformation #my sewing #i should start tagging that #i'll make another sewing post with the outfit i didn't take pics of yesterday #i either forgot about them or already liked the pics i had of them #sewing #crafts

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

Text

A Little at a Time, Part 5

Summary: you can’t quit running into Andy

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, unprotected sex, PIV sex, loss of virginity, blood, mentions of cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 8.5K

Series Masterlist

*dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Uh,” you look over the lengthy menu of the coffee shop. It was more than just a K Cup and CoffeeMate. The menu was extensive, and you just wanted coffee. Exactly how hard was this supposed to be? “Well, what would you suggest?”

The girl slumps her shoulders staring at you. “Coffee.”

“Oh, I, um…I like caramel, and…I prefer creamy coffee. Not too sweet. Mamaw always says you’ll rot your teeth if it’s too sweet. Which she always likes drinking sweet tea all day.”

“What kind of coffee do you want?” The girl says shortly. She definitely wasn’t making this process easier, and still you apologize to her for the inconvenience, and being too dumb to figure out what coffee you wanted.

“Candace!” Another girl steps up behind her. “Please go make yourself useful and make some cold brew. Sorry. She’s…well, she’s just blunt. With very little patience and rarely is up front. Name is Tori. I’m always here. Own the place. What’s the problem sweetheart? Overwhelmed?”

You give her a bit of a nod, and she looks over your body a bit. Smiling as she steps back. “I’m sure you would love some of the seasonal brews, but everybody needs a go to coffee. You look like a caramel girl. Yes?” She was lovely. Much nicer than Candace before her, and it was like she was reading you to determine your perfect drink. “Okay, today, I’m suggesting a caramel macchiato. Don’t be afraid to tell me it doesn’t work. Or are you a tea girl? Judging by that accent I’m guessing it’s the good ole sweet tea, though. You already have the sugar in there?”

“Yeah. Two cups per gallon. I’m more of a one and half cups per gallon, but my Papaw always gives me a side eye. You gotta steep the bags for a long time. Actually I bought me and Mamaw some tea from Ireland, Lyons tea. Have you heard of it?”

“No,” she giggles at you, sliding over a cup of the iced macchiato that another employee had made, and you give it a taste, moaning at how good it was. “I only keep the best beans here. So you’re into hot tea?”

“It’s not terrible. I like a black tea, but herbal tea wasn’t for me. It’s,” she points at a customer behind you, and you raise your cup. Walking over to find a seat. You liked it here. It wasn’t pretentious, and the owner enjoyed having a traditional coffee shop while still trying to have high quality products and trying new things.

You smile, looking out the window. You liked it. You felt comfortable. You pull out a book, casually reading and sipping on your coffee. Settling back in the cozy chair. It smelled amazing here. It was one of the first times you felt comfortable. Apart from any times that the hot Bostonian was around you.

It didn’t make sense that this man you knew very little about had occupied your time so much. How you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his kind smile. It was like he always appeared just when you needed him. He laughed at appropriate times, and not at you. Cole always seemed to talk down to you, and you had known him for years.

You hang your head down low, wondering why you had ever forced yourself to continue in that relationship. It was comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time. You had made yourself believe that was all you were going to be good enough for, and yet he still made you too uncomfortable to ever be truly intimate with him. Every time you were intimate it was always him initiating it. You sniffle, refusing to let yourself cry another damn tear for Cole Turner. He wasn’t worth it.

Andy steps up to the counter, getting a quick head nod from Tori who was already making his regular brew while he scans the shoppe. Landing directly at a table for two with you alone, and one cup on the table. You looked zoned out while reading a book. Mostly touching your hair, or rubbing the bridge of your nose. Not paying any mind to anything around you.

“How long has she been here?” He asks Tori, who smiles at him. “What?”

“She’s a pretty girl. A bit overwhelmed with coffee. Talks a lot. Not from around here,” Andy nods his head, confused as to what point she was trying to make. “She’s probably just visiting. Why waste your time?”

“She’s not just visiting. She’s living here with a cousin,” his eyes go back to you, and you were none the wiser. He was able to actually look at you. You didn’t seem miserable to be here. You were at peace. “I’m going to talk to her.”

“Uh-huh. Is that all?” Andy offers a smile as a response. Grabbing his coffee to walk over to your table.

He stares at your expression, trying to get a better read on you. Poppy had told him to give you time, but you looked good. Happier than the first time that he had run into you. Definitely happier than when you were at the bar. Clearing his throat, you look up at him. With the biggest and prettiest smile, “This seat taken?”

“Oh, lord, yeah…I mean, no. Yeah, sit down. Sorry,” you bashfully laugh, trying to control your breathing. “You like coffee? I mean, of course you do. Unless that’s tea, is that tea?”

“It’s coffee,” he chuckles, and you have to look away. Biting at your tongue, and wiping your hands on your pants. “You come here often?”

“First time actually. Just a walk down the road. You know that you guys have everything within walking distance?”

“Poppy does because of the apartment. There’s houses further out that don’t. I’m guessing where you’re from, you don’t have that?”

You nearly choke on your coffee, trying to swallow it quickly to answer him. Wiping off the bit that spilled on the cup, and apologizing, “No, there’s a McDonald’s and a Dairy Queen. If you want coffee you pretty much have to make it at home. My Mamaw and Papaw they’re old school with the drip coffee, but I like a Keurig and a milk frother and I think I’m doing something special,” letting out a nervous laugh, you can’t help but to stare into his eyes. They were beautiful. That overflowing feeling of kindness and comfort warming you up.

“So what is it that you do Andy?”

“I’m the assistant district attorney, and you?”

“I taught pre-k. Nothing quite as glamorous as you. I put in an application at the daycare. I haven’t heard back from them though. I really need to find a job. I’d prefer not to go through all my savings, and I was blowing through a lot with the food delivery.”

“I think working with children is quite admirable. It can’t be easy,” you shake your head no, starting to giggle. Why were you like this? You never could have an easy conversation, but with Andy it was different. You weren’t trying to be anybody, but yourself.. “Does working with kids make you want them, or make you want to stay far away from them?”

“I’ve always wanted kids. Having a child or two is different than having twenty or more four year olds in one classroom. But they’re just little people, you know? They have their good days and bad days. They’re still learning right from wrong. Being introduced to other kids their own age that have been raised differently. They’re trying to control their big emotions in these little bitty bodies. Kids don’t confuse me. Adults do.”

“Hmm,” Andy had never thought about it quite like that. It made perfect sense. By the time people were adults they should know right from wrong. Should know that cheating on your husband was very wrong. “So…why Boston?”

“My cousin Poppy. I didn’t want to be in a small town around people who spread false gossip around like a bowl of tater salad at a cookout. You have the luxury of not everyone knowing your business here. I know that your inner circle may know, and some outside of that. But imagine going to a grocery store and people commenting about your relationship. Or finding out the immense amount of people that he was cheating on you with. You start questioning maybe I did something wrong, or maybe if I would have done this. But the fact of the matter is he wasn’t a good person, and he didn’t deserve me, and doesn’t deserve the friendship of his best friend. Yeah, he told the town I was sleeping with his best friend. I still don’t understand why he started that.”

“Wow,” you shared too much. Whatever this was is completely squashed because you shared too much. “He sounds like an asshole. How long do you think he was cheating?”

“Too long for me to stay with him. Out of sight out of mind. Figured it would eventually stop. Made excuses that my mind was running all these crazy scenarios only for those crazy scenarios to actually be true. So I’m the idiot.”

“He came home every night?” You give him a shrug, and Andy isn’t sure what to think. Did you really not care, or was there something more?

“I didn’t live with him. He is a cop and had weird hours. I hate being in a house alone. I stayed with him a lot, but lived with my grandparents. Pretty sure a lot of his cheating was while he was working.”

Andy hated this man and he didn’t even know his name, “So…he was engaging in sexual activity while in uniform?”

“He was engaged in sexual activity as a payment to get out of tickets. So I’ve been told. Nobody could tell me while I was engaged. But they like to talk now.”

“That’s illegal. Bribery is not just frowned upon, but is illegal an punishable. I’m sorry. I know, I didn’t do it, but…on the behalf of mankind that does not cheat, and will value a woman’s worth, I apologize. Not all men are like that, so I don’t want you to walk around here thinking that we are. Some are just bad. They’re going to cheat. Women, too. I don’t judge future women for what my ex wife did. That isn’t fair to me, and most certainly not you…uh…other women.”

You catch it, and Andy is fully aware that you caught it. He noticed your eyes light up at the comment, and he starts to relax more. He was hoping you would pick up on the fact that he was interested. Very interested. He would never treat you the way that Cole did. He would want to come home to you every night. “So you didn’t move in with him just because his work schedule?”

“There’s many reasons. I didn’t want to live with someone before marriage, but then I would stay days at a time. It was nice, but there was always something, you know? Something that never felt just right with Cole, and I think subconsciously I knew there was something wrong, so that’s why I never moved in. Even my Papaw wasn’t the biggest fan, he would talk to anybody. He just sat there and stared at things when Cole was around, and never looked in his eyes. That’s a big thing for Papaw. Mamaw…she’s your typical southern woman. She just wants to stuff food in your mouth and hear your flattery. But even she asked me so many times if I really wanted to marry him. I was so far in, I felt like I had to. He proposed, so I said yes. I’ve always allowed people to tell me what I need to do, including not living with someone I wasn’t married to.”

It made sense. This Cole, that Andy was definitely going to be digging more into, had used your obedience and people pleasing nature to shift things in his favor. He knew men just like Cole, and he couldn’t stand them. Here was this sweet woman who was this angelic little ball of radiance. You were personable, even if you overshared a bit. You were eager to make friends, or at least with him. You adapted to your surroundings, and Cole took advantage of that.

He sits across from you, listening to you talk about your hometown, and home life. Poppy was never quite this forthcoming. Choosing more to forget where she came from, but you spoke of this place like it was what shaped you into who you were, and you were proud of that fact. There was a fondness when talking about your grandparents especially.

“Wait, your mom?” He asks when you mention her, and you nod your head, finishing up the coffee, “How does she fit in your life?”

“Oh, that always confuses people. She’s the mayor of the town. When my dad passed, she put everything into her political life, and had no room to take care of me. I moved in with Mamaw and Papaw, and she comes by at least once a week, but she didn’t raise me. I think it was too hard for her. I remind her of my dad. And I don’t have daddy issues. Cole seemed to think I did. No, Papaw was a good father figure for me. He took me fishing, taught me how to play string instruments, even though neither of us can read music. He came to every one of my basketball games, or t-ball. He was always present, always steady. I don’t remember my dad, but I remember every time that my Papaw was there for me. He’d burn the world down if it meant protecting me. I became his other daughter.”

“I didn’t think you had daddy issues, Papaw sounds like a good man. Which string instruments?”

“Uhh…the only thing I’m not great at is the banjo. All those finger picks. Mandolin is my favorite. I can play a fiddle. Papaw used to help me with the stand up bass. I couldn’t hold it on my own. Guitar is his favorite though. They did these picking nights. Yes, in the south some people pick on their front porch, this is a real thing. Mamaw can’t play, but she has this big beautiful church voice, you know? The one that doesn’t need a microphone. You feel her words in your gut. It’s beautiful. Deep and rich. I don’t hate my childhood or my mother’s need to have someone else raise me. I had a good life. My Papaw, he had this thing for buying weird animals. We had these peacocks that roamed around the yard for awhile, and there was a buffalo. He was old and they were going to put him down, but Papaw wanted him to live his last days roaming in a pasture with a bunch of cows.”

“Peacocks randomly walking around your yard. Sounds…interesting. So you lived on a farm?” You shake your head no, and now Andy was even more confused. “A pasture of cows?”

“Oh, that was my Papaw’s brother. The cows were Uncle Sonny’s, but the pasture touched our driveway. Papaw talked to the cows. And of course Barry the buffalo,” you were fascinating. He could sit and talk to you for hours. Your face is so animated with every bit of information you give him, and he just couldn’t learn enough. “We always had a ton of mutt dogs. And they had official names, but Papaw seriously called them whatever name he could think of at that moment. Peanut and Snickers were his favorite names. There was a cat, but she was a useless thing. A few chickens, but he only bought them because they looked cool. There was a goat in the pasture, and Papaw called him Satan. Swore that ugly thing was the devil himself. He just randomly appeared on the porch making a mess of things, or would be on the hood of his truck.”

“Satan makes sense,” you continue talking to Andy, and he listens to every bit. It was like reading something completely made up. It was crazy to think people had grown up like this. You were able to run around completely unattended and barefoot creating stories of far off adventures, and eat apples with peacocks.

You were able to walk down this country dirt road and explore all day long. There was this sense of innocence to you, that he couldn’t place, but with a quick glance at his watch seeing the hours that had passed, he didn’t want this to end.

“Oh, lord, I am so sorry. I could seriously talk the horns off a goat. I’m sure you had something you needed to do. I just sometimes forget all that part of my life. It’s nice to relive my childhood.”

“You’re fine, honestly,” adorable is what you are. From the way you talked right down to your sweet accent, you were adorable. “I’ve loved this. I, uh…I don’t want to seem forward or anything, but I would like to continue this. Over drinks or something?”

“Wait…are you talking about a date?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, but it doesn’t have to be something like that at all. It can be two people who enjoy talking, and someone wanting to show another someone the city of Boston.”

“No!” Andy laughs when you practically shout at him. You wanted to explore something more romantic. This was nice, but Cole never wanted to date. It was always wanting to get you home, and hoping that with enough making out you would actually have sex with him. He had fallen in love with your body, but not your mind. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Okay. So…uh, Friday night at seven work? Poppy’s bar? It doesn’t get rowdy until around nine. Nobody is eating food and everyone is drinking at that time, but I promise the food is amazing.”

“Okay. Yeah. Yes…yes, Andy, I think dinner sounds lovely. Seven? Friday? I can do that.”

“I look forward to it,” it was a quick motion, but he lays his hand over top of yours, and you can’t help but to preen up at him. Andy takes a quick look at your beaming face, having to say goodbye again, because his heart was fluttering. It felt like a school age crush all over again.

“Poppy!” Your cousin runs into the bedroom that you had been occupying, and immediately starts laughing. “Help.”

“Where are you going on a Friday night? I’m off tonight, I thought we were going to…Peach Blossom, this is date clothes.”

“Yep,” you agree, pulling something else out of the closet, before tossing it on the bed. “Help me.”

Poppy cocks her hip to the side, looking you up and down. Gauging your demeanor to see if you looked uncomfortable or just nervous, and then back to the clothes. A new pink Victoria’s Secret bag on the opposite of the floor. When you catch her looking, you slide it closer to the bed, hoping she didn’t actually see what she thinks she saw.

“Who?”

“Uh, don’t hate me. But you know that guy I kept telling you I was running into?” Smiling, she nods her head, “Well, his name is Andy.”

“Andy what?”

“Um…I didn’t get that part, but he’s the assistant district attorney, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find, right? Anyways.”

“Did you actually check? I mean, is there an Andy that’s the ADA?” You shake your head no, starting to reach for your phone. “I mean, how do we know anything this man has ever said? What if it’s all a lie?” She was right. How did you know? How did you know anything? You had seen this man at a grocery store twice and at a coffee shop.

“Well…I shouldn’t go on the date then?” Poppy wants to keep the charade up a little bit longer, but the look in your eyes when you start to think about canceling was almost hurting her darkened heart. It was a look she hadn’t ever seen you make when talking about someone you were engaged to. “But…he seems really nice. He was just recently divorced. And we were at the coffee shop for about four hours talking.”

“You talked to that man for four hours? About what?”

“Things. Life things. Like growing up in Georgia, and…Poppy, I really like him. If I can prove that he is in fact an ADA do you think, honestly, that it would be okay? Like surely if he works for the government he wouldn’t kill me right? Or…Poppy!” You scream at her when she starts laughing. She always had an easier time talking to men. She exuded sex appeal. Was a natural flirt with the prettiest lashes, puffy lips, even beauty marks that looked faked.

“Andy Barber is in fact the ADA, you’re fine.”

“You…you know him?” You ask, slinging a shirt at her. “You know this man, and you made me have second thoughts, because I felt he was going to kill me? You’re…you’re mean.”

“Ooh, shot to my heart. And you’re naive. I just want you to be careful. Your track record of one boyfriend and one fiancé, and they’re both the same person just doesn’t do you any favors, but,” her fingers begin lifting up different pieces of your clothing, before pairing the perfect outfit for you, “Andy is genuinely a good guy. He comes to the bar sometimes. Came a lot after divorcing Laurie. That’s how we met. He helped me out with my…well, he helped me press charges, and…this isn’t the time to talk about this because you have a date. And he’s a good man. He was there the night you were at the bar asking about you.”

“And you led me on like that? I can’t believe you, we’re supposed to be cousins and friends. I really like him. Like I like him more than I ever liked…Pops, can I be honest with you?”

“Does it have something to do with that bag of what I’m assuming is new lingerie?” You hate to admit it, but there was no denying the fact that you had bought lingerie just for this evening. It wasn’t overly revealing, and should things not work out, you could still see yourself wearing it. “Can we openly talk about yours and Cole’s relationship?” You nod your head, knowing that eventually this was going to come up. “What happened?”

“When we started dating, I did have that whole save yourself for marriage mentality because that’s what the pastor said. That continued, but then…the first time he touched me I liked it. But he scared me. Not like he ever hurt me, but I didn’t trust myself with him. He always wanted things to move so fast, and never wanted to just talk and get to know each other, and then it got to the point of me saying, well, I’ve already done this, might as well do more, but I never wanted to have sex with him. He wasn’t special enough.”

“But you were willing to marry him? Got that big fancy dress.”

“His mom insisted on that dress. But…I don’t know if I ever wanted to give him that part of me. It was like in the back of my head he never thought I was that special. I fit his idea of a wife. I would look good as the future sheriff’s wife. But I think we were two people that were just going through the motions.”

“And you think Andy is that person?” The big questions. You weren’t positive by any means, but positive enough to get something nice for the occasion.

“I don’t know. What I do know is I have talked to Andy more in the few hours we’ve been together than the three years Cole and I were together. I don’t know if Cole ever listened to me. If he did he would have made me feel comfortable around him. He always wanted to push my boundaries. Always wanted pictures, or videos, and I just wanted to talk. He only wanted to talk if it led to, well you know. With Andy, he listens, I feel comfortable, and I don’t have those reservations. I just want things to happen as they will.”

“I’m not going to give you a curfew, but I want you to at least communicate to me what’s happening. Like if you’re going to his house, tell me. You’re not losing your virginity in this apartment. I’m not listening to that shit. You could do a lot worse than Andy. Hell, you have. Peaches, I envy you,” you didn’t understand where this was coming from, because it was Poppy you had always envied. You wished you had her tenacity and her ability to not take shit off no one.

“You had this charmed life with Mamaw and Papaw. You knew what you wanted, and that was your perfect house with the white picket fence, two to four kids because you didn’t want your kids to be only children. A cute little dog that kept your kids rounded up and happy, and for some unknown reason you like people in power. Like Cole, the police officer, and now Andy. Hell, didn’t you used to have a crush on that one guy that became a fucking lawyer? You have always known what you wanted, and I wanted it all and wanted to try it all. What I’m saying is I see now how you wanted everything perfect, but just remember there’s no such thing. It’s okay to make mistakes, because you will always get back up. You will not let those mistakes drag you down. So go out and make mistakes. Because we’re Jackon’s, we always figure it out.”

“You think Andy is a mistake?”

“I think not going and thinking too much is a mistake. Have fun with Andy. Judging by your bag, have too much fun. If it feels right, it’s right. But don’t rush it either. If you’re having second thoughts, I promise that man ain’t going anywhere. He’ll wait on you,” while you had always been closer to Anna Kate, she always had the ability to agree with you, but Poppy told you what you needed to hear. And you loved her for that. The wild child of the Jackson granddaughters.

“Thanks. I’m going to enjoy myself.”

“You don’t like wine?” Andy asks, laughing when you grimace from the taste. “You liked what I suggested the other day.”

“Can I have that again? I’m sorry that was rude,” you hold the glass up, looking at it, and feeling so bad. “What is this?”

“A merlot. Quit trying to apologize to me, I suggested it, and you tried it. You don’t like it, and that’s fine. What do you normally drink?”

“One old fashioned. I’m honestly not big on drinking. I get…I’m friendly,” he holds a hand up for the waitress, asking for her to bring out two old fashioneds. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“We’re enjoying our food and drinks tonight. So no dry wines for you. Old fashioned, huh? Whiskey. It’s true what they say about southern women.”

“Not always. Poppy likes vodka. My Papaw is the whiskey and bourbon drinker. Mamaw doesn’t drink. You drink what you know. When Poppy, Anna Kate, and I were little we’d sneak to the cellar and get a bottle of Jack Daniels. No, it wasn’t a big wine cellar. It was this creepy underground bunker type thing. You had to walk past this crooked tree. There was this gnarly stick that kept the door closed, but eventually it was a lock because Papaw’s liquor kept going missing. Mamaw said we shouldn’t be drinking, but Papaw gave us the key. We earned a drink after walking past that old shed that had all these pigeons in there and that crooked tree. I always said it was poisoned, and if you touched it you would be cursed.”

“Did you ever touch it?”

“Hell no. I believed that. Didn’t stop us from sneaking down in there. What about your childhood?”

“Single mother. Not much to talk about. I’m more curious about yours. It seems so…almost made up, but I have no doubts you were doing all of this. Lived on a dirt road, never saw cars coming down the road unless they lived down it. It sounds beautiful.”

“You can walk to the house my grandpa grew up in. It’s more a shack than anything. There’s no power lines, because he didn’t grow up with electricity. No running water. It’s falling down now, but that place held magical powers, too. It’s funny the things we take for granted, like being able to bathe when you want to. Being able to take a drink without making sure the buckets were filled with spring water.”

“I’d like to see it someday.”

“I’d like to show you. Sorry,” you answer too quickly, ruining the moment when your foot knocks on Andy’s. “I’m such a clutz.”

“Keep it there,” oh boy. You were feeling things. Feeling things you had never felt for Cole. Things that you had thought you would only feel for your husband, but Andy was proving that all wrong. You were thankful for this tight seating, and Andy’s ability to rub his fingers on your knee.

A surge of heat rushes to your core, and you feel like you can no longer breathe. This was very different with Cole, because you want more. “You okay?” You give Andy a headnod, pepping yourself up to breathe. Just breathe.

“Is it hot in here? Are you hot?” Andy smiles, shaking his head. You were completely flustered, and it made you more adorable. Reaching for a glass of water, you take a big sip, and when his hand starts sliding away, you slam your own hand over his, “No, I like it.”

“Okay.”

“I like it too much,” your eyes go wide with your admission. How was he able to make you feel comfortable, and yet so nervous at the same time? “I hate myself.”

“It’s fine. Come here,” you stand up from your side of the table, moving to sit next to him, and he picks up your hand, placing it over his heart. It was beating out of his chest just like yours. “You’re not the only one, okay? It’s like every time I’m around you, this…this is what I feel.”

“I feel my heart pounding…all over,” you cuss under your breath, because you shouldn’t have told him that. He did not need to know everywhere that you could feel your pulse. Instead of his hand being on your knee it was much higher on your thigh. His thumb caresses your leg, but it stays properly over your skirt.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. It’s perfectly fine.”

“You should drink your old fashioned. Please, keep talking.”

“And then what happened?” Andy asks, leaning in closer to you. It was getting late, and you could already hear the amount of people that was piling into the bar. But it was just a low hum. The only thing that mattered was Andy beside you. His head starts to tilt, and you rush towards his lips. You didn’t care about that careful build up because your body was aching with a need to touch him.

He slots his mouth against yours, and the kiss was an immediate connection. It seemed silly, but you could feel sparks flying. Lips parting as his tongue slides past your lips, gasping when it touches your own. Your body arches into his, and the hand that has been resting at your side travels up. Far enough up for his thumb to graze over your nipple, and you pull away from him, gasping for air.

“A-A-Andy?” You had to have been drunk off his lips, because what you were thinking in this moment is nowhere near what you normally would, but it felt right. “I don’t wanna stay here anymore.”

“Oh? I’m not quite sure I follow. Did…did I do something wrong?”

“Is there somewhere quiet to go? Like…”

“My place?” You nod your head enthusiastically, and Andy lays down a hundred dollar bill to cover well over the food, drinks, and tip. The two of you standing up, walking hand in hand out to the car.

The further away you get from the bar, the closer you lean into him, but Andy also couldn’t get enough. There was not enough time to touch you like he wanted to. Calculating in his head the amount of time it was going to take to drive you to his house, but he was going to make the most of it.

Every traffic light had him pulling you back in for a kiss. Hating he had to keep his eye on the light, before the two of you would look back out the windshield. His hand that rests on your leg, was dangerously high. He could feel the heat coming off your cunt. Feeling like a furnace that was radiating a blaze of arousal to his hand. You needed relief. He could almost smell how wet you were, and he wanted this night to last on into the morning.

Pulling into the garage, he rushes to your side of the door. Crashing his lips against your own as he struggles to open the door. The two of you hit and knock over too many things off the wall and counter until he stops in the living room. Waiting on you to decide where to go from there. Your chest heaves with a fervent need to have him all over your body, but also wanting to catch your breath.

The couch looks comfortable, so you back him up on it. Letting him fall to the cusions when you ruck up your skirt, and crawl over him. Having to pick up his hands to place on your body, “You’re okay with this?” He asks in between kisses.

“Just touch me,” and he does. He touches you all over. Squeezing and groping. Smoothing over your skin, and before you know it he was sucking bruises on your neck, while your body grinds over him, and you moan at the feeling of his cock growing harder under you. You hate comparing things to Cole, but you had never felt like this.

Andy’s fingers were capable, but still he gives you a moment to decide if you wanted to continue. When he realizes you weren’t objecting, he continues his motions in that spot on your body. Exploring every inch of your supple skin. It isn’t until his finger slides up and down your drenched and brand new panties, that you gasp, stopping your body.

Andy throws both hands up, panting as he stares at you, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I thought…thought that’s where we were going. I’m…I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” you smile, slowly rolling your hips on him. “I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” grabbing the hemline of your blouse, you pull it over your head, and he gets to stare at your pretty little new underwear. It framed your curves perfectly. Andy’s hands slide up and down your thighs, causing your kiss swollen lips to tremble.

“Will you tell me if we’re going too far?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“So, if I do this,” his hand dips back in between your thighs, letting his thumb rub over your soiled panties. “You like that?” You nod your head, and he slips his hand under the panties. Pulling the gusset out far enough that he was just feeling your slick on the lace. “You’ve made a mess for me.”

When he allows his thumb to touch your skin, your eyes close, rolling back in your head, and you let out a deep pornographic moan. “You like this?”

“Uh…huh,” squeaking out your words when he touches your bundle of nerves. Giving the little pearl flicks. Removing his hand, he circles both around your hips. Readjusting you, and leaning you back so he gets a clear view of your covered and weeping cunt.

Moving aside your panties, he stares at your folds, before looking back up at you. Two fingers push into your warmth, and he stares intently as your jaw goes slack. Your fingers dig into his skin as he scissors into you, “You have a tight little pussy. Are you still doing okay?”

“Andy…Andy,” you whimper his name as he slowly pumps into you. He was getting off on your pleasure, and still you wanted more. “I want you. I want you!” His fingers drive into you faster, curling up. Hitting over your spot over and over until your toes curl. Feelings that you had never felt before. Body tensing up as he works you over. Screaming out his name until your juices were pouring out of you, and you couldn’t focus. The room was blurry and spinning around.

You grab at his wrist, and he stops completely. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Do what?” Andy gives you a devilish smirk. Whoever you were with before did not know how to properly care for you if he could never make you squirt like that. “Peaches, what did you do?”

“I think…oh god, I think I peed. It’s not funny. I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, has peeing ever made you feel that good? If it has, I'm very jealous of your bathroom habits. Honey, have you never squirted?” You shake your head no, because your body most definitely had never done that before. “What you did was nothing to apologize about. So…what do you want to do now?”

“You?”

“You want to do me?” Now would be a perfect time to let him know you were a virgin, but you didn’t want him to take things slower. You were committed to it being tonight. You wanted Andy. It felt right. There was nothing even remotely telling you to slow down. He made you feel safe, and made you desire more.

“Yes. In the bed?”

Letting you stand up, he grabs at your hand, leading you into the bedroom, when he turns around to kiss over your sticky skin. Hands behind your back when your bra drops to the floor. Grabbing a handful of your tit, he lets his greedy mouth suck on you. You shimmy out of your skirt, and reach towards his pants. Nervously starting to undo his button. Letting the jeans sink to the floor when you palm his boxer briefs.

His breath comes out labored, and he just rips his button up off while you gaze at the thick cords of muscles that made up his arms and chest. Leading you to the bed when he removes his underwear. You glance down at his thick and heavy cock, and have never wanted nothing more. Staring up at him through your lashes when you back up on the bed. Setting in the center, and stare at Andy. He was a god among men.

Andy reaches into a drawer beside the bed, and pulls out a foil packet. Bringing it to his mouth his teeth clench as he rips it open. Blowing the excess out of his mouth before rolling the latex on his fat cock. Placing his knee on the bed, when he looks at you. Not your body, but you. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and he crawls closer to you. Adjusting your legs wider to accommodate him and his broad body. Andy runs his fingers through your slit, changing to bring his tip to tease at your entrance. Watching your face as you nod. Staring at only him when he pushes into your tight channel, making your back arch into him. You wouldn’t cry, and you wouldn’t scream, but he had set you on fire.

“Fuck. Fuck. You’re so fucking tight. Shit. What…this is going to come off rude,” Andy struggles to breathe right along with you. Drawing his hips back, when he shoves himself back in. “Was…fuck…was he that small?” You laugh despite wanting to do other things. Trying not to cry even though it stung like hell. Every movement he made was worse than the one before.

Gripping at his back when he really starts thrusting into you. It stung. There was such a fullness to his girth inside your virginal cunt that it overwhelmed you. Nothing could have prepared you for this. “Andy…Andy.”

“Fucking hell,” he leans up a bit, seeing the tears in your eyes as he slows down. Looking down at where the two of you connect to see his cock wrapped in blood. “Oh my god. What happened? Are you okay? Did I do something?”

“I’m fine. Just keep going.”

“You’re bleeding. Did you start your period? What…?” You lift up to your elbows, horrified. He had you so stretched out. No wonder it was slightly painful. You drop down on the bed, mortified. “What is wrong?”

“I’m a…well, I was, I guess this is official, but I was a…uh, well, you see…you’re my first person. This is the first time. I was a virgin.”

“Oh,” Andy is a bit relieved, and a bit bothered you wouldn’t just tell him. “You…you didn’t think to tell someone? I mean, I just assumed. You said you stayed for days with deputy douche bag, and you never had sex?” You shake your head no, still covering your eyes. You couldn’t look at him. “Why? And please, just look at me. I’m inside you, I don’t think things get more intimate than this.”

You slowly let your hands fall to the bed below, looking up at Andy. Things weren’t feeling quite so uncomfortable anymore. Your pussy was adjusting to his width, and you were beginning to love the way the pressure felt, and even more how close he was to you. This was awkward, and still so very right. Even as he starts to pull out, you hold onto him, “Please don’t. I wanted to wait for marriage.”

“Okay, this…this doesn’t make me feel good.”

“No. With him. I went in thinking that’s what I should do, but all those years later, I still never felt comfortable enough to actually have sex. I was beginning to even dread the wedding night. I was using the excuse of waiting until marriage, because I didn’t want to fuck him. But with you…Andy, I wanted this. I wanted you. I’m not saying we have to get married. I’m saying I wanted this. I wanted you, and I wanted you to have this. I felt more comfortable with you than with someone who I had slept with, not sex, but slept beside, and held. I just didn’t want to have sex with him. I didn’t trust him.”

“If you would have told me…”

“You would have made me wait,” he shakes his head no, smiling down at you. You were completely right. He would have made you wait. He would have enjoyed taking you apart slowly. “Yeah, you would. You’re that kind of a guy. One date wouldn’t have been a long enough time.”

“I could have taken time with you. I could have used my fingers to stretch you out a bit more. I could have taken the time, and kissed on you a bit more, tasted you. Slid into you slower, or hell I don’t even know, realize what I had laying in my bed. You deserve more than you were given and if that jackass ever pushed you and made you feel like he was owed this, I’m sorry, but I think you deserve more than I just gave you, too.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not mad. This wasn’t some romance movie moment, but tonight has been the best night of my life. I came home with you because I like talking to you, and I like the way you make my body feel. I came home with you thinking that just making out would be plenty, but I did want this. I like the way you make me feel, yes, but I love the way you treat me. I barely know you, and still feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I don’t regret tonight. No part of it, maybe the not telling you part. But this feels nice, no?”

“This feels a lot better than nice. I just wish…”

“I don’t need a bed of roses because those wither away.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“It's a country song, anyways, I want you. And this moment. I want you to fuck…make love…have sex, whatever to call it. I want to feel you all over my body. Please…please just — I want this Andy, I want to feel you take control over my body,,” with a deep breath, Andy slowly pulls himself out of you, and slowly sinks back in. “Andy, are you clean?”

“Yeah.”

“So am I. Just don’t come in me.”

“You say that now,” he whispers, pulling himself completely out of you. Looking at your tight but gaping hole. He pulls off the condom, touching his tip at your entrance with a moan. “I do not care what you say or beg of me I will not put my cum in you, and I mean that.”

“Okay. Just…holy shit,” hands on his back, you scratch down the muscled skin as he pushes through your entrance. This was such a different feeling. Skin on skin. Everything became more sensitive, more intimate. And he doesn’t stop until he is fully sheathed into your wet heat. Settling his weight over you. Using his fingers to push back your hair as he starts a slow and steady pumps.

“Uh…uh,” a round of whimpering squeaks exit your mouth, and you want to close your eyes, and want to keep staring up at him. “Andy…An — dy.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“And it feels good?”

“So good. So — good. Oh!” He picks up the pace. It had been so long since he had someone like this. He couldn’t remember when he was able to fully feel what they felt like from the inside. He never trusted Laurie. But you were freely giving him every part of you. Every part of you was gripping him tightly; hand on his back, legs around his waist, and your cunt was making it hard to breathe. You were perfect.

He would have made you wait. You deserved that, but this was better than he could have imagined. Your perfect little whimpers, and the way your nails dig into his skin when he hits a certain spot just. Right. There. Lifting your back off the bed, you and him were so close, and fused together.

“Yeah. Yeah, you like the way I make you feel, huh?”

“Uh-huh. Andy…”

“You wanna try being on top? From behind?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want Andy to leave you for any second. “Okay, just this once. You’re gonna have to be a good girl and try other positions eventually, okay?”

“Okay. Andy…Andy. I’m…”

“Trust me, I can fucking tell. You’re doing such a good job. Have you stretched out and full of me. Got you right….right…right…fucking — there,” your cunt clenches down tight. Too tight for Andy to even move. He lets you ride out your high. Your eyes were deep dark pools of lust as you gaze owlishly up at him. Still panting with tears leaking out of your eyes as he pulls completely out of you. Wrapping his hand around his girth, fisting himself before spurting his thick cream up your stomach.

Giving a glance down to your ruined cunt when he rubs over your sensitive bean, “How are you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed,” Andy stares up at his spend laying on your body before gathering it up. Rubbing your clit with the mess, and you sit up. Moaning at his motions, but also everything else, “What…Andy, what are you doing?”

“Sperm dies outside of the body in about two minutes.”

“Do you always do this?” He shakes his head no, and he wasn’t lying. He had never wanted to see his spunk leak out of anyone more than you. Had never yearned to see someone’s cum mix with his own. “Do you want me to go home?”

“I’d prefer you stayed right there. I need to take care of you. Clean you up. Make sure you rehydrate. Snuggle you. Smell you.”

“And have sex again later?”

“No. We’ll do this again,” he slaps at your pussy before standing up, and waddling to the bathroom. “You’ll need a moment to rest.”

“We could try?”

“I don’t want you to think I’m interested in just a tight pussy. Tomorrow, breakfast in bed. We’ll go to the park or something. Watch a movie. Doesn’t matter. Just…” he walks back into the bedroom with a warm washcloth. Pressing it up against your tender sex, and moving up to wipe himself off you. “We can just enjoy each other.”

“But I want to have sex with you again,” you beg, tears forming in your eyes. You were going to be trouble. Your legs were still spread as if he was laying in between them. Your hole was spread so wide, but it was those pouting eyes. You had fully trusted him, and was pleading for more. Your pussy showed the signs of him having been seated so deep inside of you.

And it was like you wanted him to have a front row seat to view it. He doubted you were quite as cunning as that. There was still this confusion of not knowing of what to do. Judging by your conversations, you wanted the same things that Andy wanted out of life. Essentially a perfect match.

Andy had to remember that the two of you were still new. He didn’t want to jump in too deep into this relationship, but he could see something becoming more real. He did not feel things this passionately with Laurie. Didn’t have this strong desire to protect her, stay with her, and dote on her like he did you. She didn’t even want kids. Lied to him from the beginning about that.

You sigh softly, curling into his chest, and he holds you so tight. He should have known the second he pushed through your entrance that you were a virgin. The shock on your face, and biting at your lip as your eyes fill with tears. You were something he hadn’t felt before. Petting his hands up and down your back, he knows he could keep you like this forever.

“Andy, I don’t believe in dating around.”

“Don’t worry,” he takes a deep gulp. “I’ve only got time for one person, and she’s laying in my arms,” there was a soft giggle that vibrates his chest, and he pulls you even closer to him. He is sure there would be hell to pay with Poppy tomorrow, but right now, he just wanted to bask in the loss of your innocence glow. The way you randomly kissed over his chest, and your fingers tickle his belly. He could get used to this. He never wanted you to leave. He knew he needed to chill, but he was also going to let you decide what you wanted to do, and it did not appear that you wanted to be anywhere but in his arms. And he was not complaining.

Masterlist

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