Can anyone tell me if I need to watch the entirety of Adventure Time to understand Fionna and Cake?
I’ve recently seen clips of only Fionna and Cake and became interested in watching. I’ve never really been into Adventure Time but it would be nice to know if I have to watch both shows to understand or if I can go straight into the second show.
bf!jason is possessive as hell, but not in a toxic way. he doesn’t hold you tighter because he’s scared you’ll leave—it's because he knows no one else can touch you like this. protective in every sense. hand at the dip of your back in crowds, between your shoulders if you’re anxious, on your thigh when he’s driving one-handed through gotham with blood on his knuckles and a body in the trunk.
this includes blowing up for phone. not in a clingy way, but you’ve got voicemails full of his voice:
“you eat yet, baby?”
“hey, that creep from the grocery store’s gonna have a limp one next time he sees you. you’re welcome.”
“miss you sweetheart. come home.”
bf!jason def knows how to cook. not “can make a decent mac and cheese, or spice up some packed ramen,” but full i grew up poor and survived death and now i feed people like it’s love skills. he can roast a chicken. bake bread. make pasta from scratch. and he’s super hot while doing it. sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with flour, licking tomato sauce off his thumb while you sit on the counter watching him roll dough, and as soon as it goes in the oven, you're getting bent over where it was rolled. (hand prints of flour also on your ass)
bf!jason reads to you on the balcony sometimes. when the night’s too hot to sleep and the fan simply pushes warm air around, when the city’s noise fades down into that steady low murmur of gotham background static—sirens in the distance, the hum of passing trains, someone yelling fuck you two streets over. you’re both out there, snuggled up in a love seat you got from some vintage junk store, your legs across his lap while he’s reading, aloud. low-voiced and slow. one hand holding the book open, the other dragging lazy fingers over your ankle.
bf!jason todd for sure keeps his gun under the pillow. he's always one step ahead, snacks in the glove compartment because he knows you love a good sweet treat. he also hides your birthday gift in the bathroom ceiling tiles. + doesn’t trust anyone, except you. and when he does? the vulnerability is earth-shattering. he’s not used to being soft. so when he lets himself fall asleep in your arms, when he lets you see him unarmed, it’s not an accident.
he’d kill for you. but more importantly—he’d live for you.
☆ nsfw
bf!jason grunts a lot. it’s not pretty-boy moans. it’s rough, breathy, under-his-breath “fuck”s, he talks you through it—not constantly, but when he gets going, he really goes.
“that’s it, baby. just like that.”
“mmn—fuck, you’re clenching—keep going.”
“look at me when you cum. yeah—eyes on me.”
praise kink? hell yes! praise and degradation in the same breath. “you’re doing so good for me, baby, taking my cock so deep—but god, you’re such a fuckin’ mess, dripping all over, whining like you can’t take it—look at you.”
fave position? i mean, he has several, but his favorite—the one that makes him growl against your neck, the one he pulls you into when he’s too worked up to tease, the one that leaves your legs shaking and your voice hoarse—is prone bone. you on your stomach, face in the pillow, arms folded under you, ass up just enough for him to sink all the way in. it’s deep, tight, once he’s over you—his chest pressed to your back, one hand braced beside your head, the other curled under your belly to keep you tilted just right.
you feel him at your back, his hips grinding against your ass, that slow rut of him dragging in and out so deep your toes curl. his mouth at your ear and that low moan he lets out when you clench around him? devastating. he loves the control. how he can push you down, hold you open while fucking you slow. how you can’t help the sounds you make, breathless and soft, soaked with need.
authors note: i might make bf headcanons for other characters, but i'm currently hyperfixated on jason todd post-resurrection. something bout that white stripe mmm #NEEDTHAT
Jason Loves being soft with you. Jason is actually a really soft person in general, he just doesn't have the stature to match. He gets something out of the ability to hold you gently. To have you react to him like he isn't this hulking mass of muscle.
Tucking your hair behind your ear, watching you sleep softly next to him, kissing your forehead on a bad day and never forgetting to kiss you goodbye and hello. He's not always aware of it and if you asked him he'd blow it off or tell you "bare minimum babe"
That's another thing. He loves pet naming you. Babe, baby, princess, doll. He loves complimenting you and telling you how pretty he thinks you are.
He's so flowery with his language. " Whatever you need baby" in the softest mutter, a promise to you as he kisses your hand. "My favorite thing is getting to come home to my baby" like bro is unconsciously romantic he really does not think about it !!
i just fully believe ben grimm would be a great cuddler! he full on believes cuddling him is like laying on a pile of rocks but its quite the opposite. it‘s him <3 there is a beating heart underneath his very thick skin, a heart that beats only for you.
you sometimes wish he would just lay on top of you sometimes like the heaviest weighted blanket but you do enjoy life (especially with ben) so you’re settling for his arm around your waist as you’re sleeping on top of him.
getting to share a bed with ben is probably the best thing to ever happen to you~
Jason’s sprawled across the bed, all six-foot-something of muscle and attitude dead weight draped over you. He hasn’t let go since he carried you from the couch, like his arms are glued around your waist. His head’s on your chest, ear pressed to your heartbeat, damp hair tickling your collarbone.
“You still mad at me?” His voice is a low rumble, Jersey drawl softened, almost sheepish. He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t even try to meet your eyes.
“No, Jay.” Your fingers rake slowly through his hair, scratching just the way you know melts him. “Not mad. Just tired.”
He lets out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Tired ‘cause of me.” His hand tightens on your hip, like he’s reminding himself you’re real. “Shoulda slowed down. Shoulda made you feel good first instead of—”
“Jason.” You cut him off gently, tugging at his hair until he tips his face up to you. He looks so wrecked—red eyes, guilty pout. You cradle his cheek in your palm. “You did make me feel good. Really good. You’re just being dramatic.”
He huffs, but his lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “…Maybe I like it when you baby me after.”
“There it is,” you tease, brushing a kiss over his forehead.
He groans, rolling half onto you so his weight presses you into the mattress. “Don’t tell anyone. Red Hood loses all his street cred if word gets out he’s a fuckin’ mama’s boy for his girl.”
You laugh, rubbing his back in slow circles. “Your secret’s safe with me, baby.”
Jason hums, content, before his voice drops into a whisper against your chest: “Say it again.”
“What?”
“‘Baby.’” He sounds embarrassed, like he’s asking for something filthy instead of sweet.
You stroke your fingers through his hair again, soft and deliberate. “My baby.”
He shivers. Literally shivers. Then he hides his face back against your chest like he can’t handle it, arms tightening until you squeak.
“Jason,” you laugh, kissing the crown of his head. “You’re crushing me.”
“Good,” he mutters, muffled. “You’re stuck with me. Mine.”
By the time sleep takes him, he’s drooling into your shirt, legs tangled with yours, still clinging like you’ll vanish if he loosens his grip.
As Bruce grows older into his 50's or 60's the paparazzi and people crowding him becomes less and he thinks that people have finally decided that Bruce is too old to be attractive or mainstream and he's actually super fine with it and makes jokes( more like sarcastic remarks) about it. But in reality they've grown more freaky cause instead of looking wrinkly and a sappy old man the level of cunt he serves grows everyday,he doesn't look like a snack he looks like a buffet, 13 year olds are using his pics as the cover pages of their mafia wattpad stories, he looks majestic, absolute dilf, we don't talk about the amount of tags he's birthed just by ageing on ao3, and hes still an absolute UNIT, the reason he's not heard about it yet cause the batkids are blocking the shit OUT with all of their will and strength cause it doesn't matter if all of them are full grown adults they're still all like-THATSMYDADGETAWAYFROMHIMHEDOESN'THAVETIMEFORYOUHESBUSYBEINGOURDAD
Jason Todd who freezes up the first time he takes his shirt off in front of you.
He's searching your face intently for a reaction—any hint of disgust or horror. His heart nearly drops to the ground when he sees your eyes blown wide with shock, mouth slightly agape and fingers twitching by your side.
His head immediately clouds with all the what ifs and worst case scenarios. The poor guy is just about sure you'll bolt out of the room any second.
Nothing on earth could've prepared him for you to let out the most ungodly screech he's ever heard, one that's a mix of excitement and adoration as you approach him.
"ohmygod," the words tumble out of your mouth in a slur. There's nothing but joy and curiosity radiating off of you when you come to a halt in front of him, hands ghosting over his chest. You're not quite touching him, but you're close enough for his breath to hitch at your warmth.
When you look up at him, all air leaves his lungs through a shake exhale. Your face can only be described as pure love—something he decidedly didn't expect.
"You have so many beauty marks and freckles Jay," you snap him out of his trance only to stun him into another bout of shocked silence at the request you utter.
"Can I touch? You're so pretty."
He can only manage a weak nod before your hands are all over him, running across his waist and stomach. Your fingers trace his scars gently, with enough reverence and softness to render his knees utterly useless at holding his weight up. Your touch is precise and calculated, like you're cataloguing every inch of his skin. You're touching him with so much love, like he's worth the softness and devotion you pour into him.
He doesn't know what to do with your touch, so he looks up to the ceiling and coaches himself through several shuddering breaths.
If you notice, you kindly leave him be and continue your earnest exploration, uttering praises and compliments at every turn and touch.
He can't wrap his head around the whole thing.
You decided to look past his scars and marred skin. Decided to focus on whatever beauty you perceived and praised him for it.
Or perhaps, you didn't look past the ugly parts of him.
Perhaps, there's a chance you don't think they're ugly at all.
He doesn't know what to do with that possibility, so he shuts his brain off and basks in your tender loving touch instead.
┊ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after swearing off dating, you agree to a date with ben grimm. he’s thinking it’s a lost cause, but you’re thinking you want this, and him, long-term.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ben grimm (rock ben) x fem!reader.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.1K.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no smut but there is suggestive content, reader wants ben no matter what, lots of fluff, mild angst, talk of insecurities and past relationships.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lowkey if people like this, I have more planned (smut included, I’m a freak) shoutout to my girlfriend @beneath-thevoid for fueling my ideas for this fic! 🫶 I hope you all enjoy!
“When do I get to meet her?”
Ben’s gaze narrowed, focused on the pot of simmering alfredo below. He dipped one digit inside of the sauce, flicking another smattering of pepper over the broth.
A plate of Maisie’s frosted cookies sat neatly on the countertop, arranged with care, and the dinner table was set with candles.
Johnny squinted, stealing a glance between the checkered tablecloth and Ben’s culinary masterpiece.
“You’re serious about her, aren’t you?” Johnny parrots, leaning forward against the countertop. Blue hues scrutinized him with perplexity, brows furrowing together.
Ben was chivalrous, sure, but he was going out of his way for this, for a girl that no one had met yet. You’d been talked about at-length, but hadn’t made any appearances until now.
“Not now, Johnny,” Ben grunts, letting H.E.R.B.I.E take over kitchen duties by stirring the sauce and checking the pasta. “Maybe next time.”
“Really?” With a theatrical groan, Johnny sighs, seemingly downtrodden. “Just like that? You aren’t gonna throw me a bone?”
“Nope,” He waves him off as the oven chimes with a pitched ding, signaling the completion of the garlic bread he’d made. “It’s time to make yourself scarce, buddy.”
Johnny had reluctantly agreed to give Ben space for tonight — for his date. He was itching to know who the mysterious woman was, but he wasn’t about to ruin things for Ben tonight.
Reed and Sue had intentionally gone elsewhere for the occasion, leaving the Baxter Building eerily empty, save for H.E.R.B.I.E.
With a begrudging expression, Johnny held one hand up in surrender. “Fine, I’ll go. Good luck, alright? I’m serious.” His tone tapered off from teasing to genuine.
“Thanks,” Ben cracked a smile before rubbing his hands together. “I’m gonna need it.” He mumbled, placing the ceramic tray of bread on the island.
It’d been a long time since he’d been on a real date; not something artificial, with someone solely interested in his newfound popularity.
The last real date he’d had was with Deborah, before going to space — before everything changed.
He’d been on a handful between then and now, but none of them felt real. Sometimes, it all felt like a cruel joke, and he’d learned to brush them off; it never lessened the sting.
His appearance was often a point of contention, a weighty insecurity that dragged behind him. In the beginning, Ben struggled with it, with his looks — with being perceived because of it.
Now, he’d gotten better, more accustomed to it all with some degree of acceptance.
From the moment he met you, Ben felt something profound, knowing that there was something different about you, something kind. You’d run into one another after Ted’s show, and maybe it was fate.
It was a string of chance meetings after that, and you were the one to really kickstart things with a coffee date. He’d gotten good at deciphering who was real, and who wasn’t — you were.
After Johnny left, it was just H.E.R.B.I.E, buzzing and scuttling around to make any final preparations. He was nervous, insides churning with anticipation, anxiety gnawing at his veins.
He wanted to make this work with you, if that were a possibility; he liked you.
“Herbs, could you put on some music? Jazz or somethin’? Keep the volume low.” Ben calls, moving to place the bread on the table, right in the center.
Was it too romantic? Too formal? He was second-guessing himself as he added the pasta to the sauce, giving it several stirs to ensure the consistency.
H.E.R.B.I.E whirled around the corner, a tangle of excitable buzzing and beeping as the robot motioned toward the elevator.
“She’s here? You wanna bring her up?” He mused, gesturing toward the doors. The robot zoomed away with haste, swinging into the elevator before it went down to the lobby.
Ben had to remind himself to calm down; this was you, and you were sweet. It was easy to get lost in the swell of insecurities, especially regarding his appearance when it came to dating.
Everything looked impeccable, between the finely-set dinner table, sienna glow, and the lull of smooth jazz drifting through the parlor.
It was nearly dusk, a cloudless night that harbored a skyline full of glittering stars. Twilight pooled in through the windows, bringing with it streaks of violet and peach — picturesque, really.
Smoothing a hand over his button-up, he adjusted his tie a time or two, glancing at himself in a mirror strewn in the corridor.
“Sweet Jesus,” Ben mumbled, countenance furrowing together. “Pull yourself together, Grimm.” He sighed, shoulders shaking with a heavy exhale.
The chime of the elevator nearly made him jump, causing him to move toward the dinner table, steps wrought with a subtle fear.
As the doors opened, you were met with the polished interior of the Baxter Building, something you never imagined yourself seeing. It was larger than life, and beautifully decorated.
Sweat-slick palms picked at a stray thread from the sleeve of your floral dress, nerves coiled tightly within the pit of your stomach.
The scent of Italiano wafted from the foyer as H.E.R.B.I.E scuttled forward, wheeling around to check on the pasta.
“Hey,” Ben greeted you with a smile, one that seemed etched with nervousness even through the rocky exterior. “Glad you make it, it’s really good to see you again.”
You hadn’t been expecting someone like Ben to enter your life — kindhearted, selfless, and with a heart of gold.
Dating was something you’d sworn off after a tumultuous string of poor experiences, all of them leaving you embittered. Things took a turn for the better when you met him.
“Hi, Ben,” You chimed, adjusting your purse as you marveled at your surroundings. “This is beautiful! Thank you for inviting me, I’ve really been looking forward to it!”
You had, truthfully; when he’d proposed the question of coming over for dinner, and he’d specified it as a date, you were ecstatic.
“Really? That’s great,” Relieved, Ben felt some of the tension unfurl from his shoulders. “I’ve been looking forward to it, too.” He confessed, which eased your anxiety.
The two friends you’d told about this date were skeptical, at best — they didn’t understand why you were inclined to pursue, given his appearance.
None of that mattered to you; the content of his character mattered, his heart mattered. His appearance was trivial, and you didn’t mind in the slightest.
“Thank goodness,” Stifling a nervous laugh, you cleared your throat, awkwardly extending your arms out. “Are you a hugger? I’m sorry.”
Much to Ben’s surprise, you seemed just as nervous and jittery as he was about the whole ordeal. He assumed it had to do with him, but that was all a projection.
“No, uh — Here.” Ben stepped forward, letting you initiate the gesture. He feared the stigma that came with him, with the way he looked.
Little more than a feather-light embrace, he reciprocated your hug as if one touch might make you explode. You seemed entirely unphased, hugging him as if it were commonplace.
“I love your tie,” You mused, pointing toward the strip of vibrantly-colored fabric, patterned with green foulard. “Reminds me of one my grandpa used to wear.”
Ben chuckled, accompanied by a flash of pearly teeth as he drew away. “Ouch. You callin’ me old?” He teased, noticing the look on your face.
“No!” Despite his gentle prodding, you felt your heart leap straight into your throat. “I’m already making a bad impression, aren’t I?”
“Not in the slightest,” Ben replied, moving away from you and toward the kitchen. “I made parmesan alfredo for dinner, hope that’s alright.”
That explained the heavy scent of Italian, and when you noticed how intricate the table looked, warmth began to spread over your features.
The amount of effort it must’ve taken him far exceeded any of your expectations — they were in the ground, at this point. “You did all of this for me?” You asked, incredulous.
A brief chuckle escaped him as he rubbed the back of his head, gesturing to take your purse. “Yeah,” He cleared his throat. “Figured you deserved it, I wanted to do it for you.”
Your purse seemed so dainty in his grasp as he placed it on the countertop, motioning for you to come inside.
“That’s really sweet of you, Ben. Thank you,” Flattered, you felt your heels ache from wearing a pair of black pumps, shuffling over the carpet. “It smells wonderful.”
“Let’s hope it tastes wonderful,” He chuckled, giving the pot another stir before turning the heat down. “So, how was work for you today?”
“Good,” With a hum, you moved to admire the decor of the apartment, smiling at some of the pictures. “Lots of dog hair. I cleaned up before I came over.”
“Wondered what that smell was,” Ben mused, prompting you to turn on your heel. “I’m teasing you.” He carried the pot over to the table, placing it next to the bread.
“You should come by sometime! You’d make a good playmate for some of the shelter dogs.” Folding your hands together, you quietly crossed the threshold toward the table.
“They can’t chew on me, it might work,” Humorous, the lighthearted atmosphere seemed to ease both your nerves and his. “I got Maisie’s for dessert, if you’ve got room after dinner.”
Once the table was completely set, he nearly forgot about the lavish bouquet of flowers perched on the kitchen island.
“Really? Their cookies are delicious,” Smiling, you watched as he moved to pull your chair out for you, an invitation to sit. “Thank you.”
“Used to go there after school, back when I lived on Yancy,” Ben muses, sitting beside you with an expression of contentment. “The little black-and-white ones are my favorite.”
“Good choice,” Unraveling your napkin, you place it into your lap, over your dress. “Have you always liked to cook?”
“It was something I picked up with time. Dad wasn’t always around, so I worked with what I had,” Ben clears his throat with a guttural hum. “I love cooking now, especially for other people.”
After he gestured toward the food, you spooned a mindful portion of alfredo pasta onto your plate, taking a piece of garlic bread, too.
“I’m not very good at cooking,” You confess, twirling a noodle around on your fork. “I’m excellent at cleaning up afterwards, though.”
Ben dished himself a hearty portion; he was always one to bite off more than he could chew. “I don’t think I’m gonna let you clean up on the first date.” He remarks.
“I don’t mind it,” With a shrug, you take a bite of pasta, savoring the taste of creamy alfredo and the sharp grit of parmesan. “Mm, this is delicious!”
“Yeah?” Delighted, he felt a sense of relief in knowing that you enjoyed his food. “The key is the touch of nutmeg, it adds depth to the sauce.”
“Really? It’s amazing,” A soft groan escaped you when you took a bite, and then another. “You mentioned that you grew up here in the city. Do you still have family around?”
“Not anymore,” Ben shrugged nonchalantly. “I had an older brother, Daniel. Passed away a long time ago — my parents, too.” He murmured, noticing the look on your face.
“I’m sorry, Ben.” Your tone softened, brows furrowing together. Reaching out, you let your hand settle over his, feeling chitinous rock beneath.
“Ah, don’t apologize,” Brushing it aside, Ben offered you a solemn smile, placating. “That’s how it goes, you know? Natural part of life.”
“I think your family would be proud of you and how accomplished you are.” The kindness in your voice is unmistakable; it’s gentle, sincere.
Flattered, he momentarily dipped his head, blue eyes flickering toward your hand, still lingering over his knuckles.
“That’s real sweet of you to say,” Ben murmured, sitting a little straighter in his seat. “I miss being an astronaut, before …” He trailed off, shaking his head.
It wasn’t difficult to discern what he meant by that — his appearance, a source of deep-rooted insecurities.
Hushed, you offered Ben a comforting smile, fingers flexing around part of his hand, entirely too large when compared to your own. “I understand.”
Ben sighed, wanting to move off of the more distasteful topics of conversation. Despite your genuineness, he wanted to know more about you and keep the focus there.
“Sorry,” With a cough, he decides to change the subject. “You mentioned you like music. What’s your favorite genre?”
“Oh, hm,” Contemplative, you considered his question carefully. “I like anything that sounds good, really. It’s about the composition and tune versus the genre.”
“There’s a jazz club off of Shirley that my Uncle took me to a few times, I think you’d like it.” Ben replied, eating between questions.
The atmosphere of the date was incredibly comfortable for the both of you — maybe it was too early, but you hoped there’d be another.
“When are you going to take me?” Emboldened, the words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t …”
Admittedly, Ben was flattered by your enthusiasm, wrought with a touch of amazement. He wasn’t expecting any of this; he wasn’t expecting you to drop into his life.
“No, you don’t need to apologize,” He began, clicking his tongue. “You tell me when you’re free next, and I’ll make it happen.”
Giggling, you continued to eat with glee, stomach sloshing with warmth. Visibly smitten, you seemed excited at the prospect of a second date. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
The flow of conversation felt entirely natural, as if he’d known you for years. After losing Deborah, after the accident with space, with forming the team — he didn’t think he’d have this again, having someone.
He learned a lot about you over the course of dinner, details that he was hellbent on committing to memory. There was something so brilliant about you, vibrant and inviting.
You cleaned your plate without protest, dabbing at the corner of your mouth with your napkin. “I can’t get enough of this. How much do I owe you?”
“Free this time,” Ben bantered before clicking his tongue, swallowing a mouthful of garlic bread. “I can get you some to take back home.”
“I’d love that. Thank you, Ben,” Beaming, you folded one leg over the other. “Dinner’s been wonderful. I’m really enjoying myself.”
Some part of you envisioned this — envisioned him fitting into your life with a semblance of normalcy. The idea settled within the recesses of your mind, a nagging fantasy.
“Me too,” He agreed, heart swelling with elation. “I’ll take your plate if you’re finished, let Herbs clean up around here. How much time do you have left?”
Ben thought he might’ve been defunct after his transformation, and it gave him a spark of confidence to know he still had a bit of charm. He wasn’t completely hopeless just yet.
“Thanks,” Unable to stop smiling, you cleared your throat, standing from your seat. “I’ve got an hour or so left before I need to go home.”
“Do you want a tour of the place?” Ben offered, carrying your dishes to the sink. You decided to help anyway, carrying extra dishes over to the island.
“You wouldn’t be breaking any safety protocols, would you?” You laughed, standing beside him as you placed dishes into the basin. “I don’t want your family to think I’m a bad influence.”
“I don’t think so,” With a scoff and jostling of his shoulders, Ben shook his head. “You’re the furthest thing there is from a bad influence.”
Flustered, tendrils of heat snake over the back of your neck, prickling along your spine. He made you feel seen, valued in a way you never thought possible, until now.
As you helped him tidy up despite his protests, Ben quietly admired the floral pattern of your dress. It was bright and frilly, reminding him of a garden, fitting for you.
Whatever this would blossom into, he wanted it to last — and that terrified him.
The idle hum of jazz music filled the void of silence that lingered between the both of you. You were more than helpful, sticking to your word about cleaning up afterwards.
“Fantasti-kitchen, dim the lights,” Ben spoke to the open air, and the lighting simmered down, much to your amazement. “H.E.R.B.I.E can finish up. Let me show you around.”
“This feels top secret,” You mused, drying your hands off before following him towards the living room and balcony. “Did you always want to be an astronaut?”
Ben quieted, giving your question some consideration. “No,” He began, stopping beside the lounge couch. “I didn’t realize it was on the table until I joined the Air Force.”
“Really? Did you join out of high school?” Perplexed, you listened attentively, losing interest in your surroundings.
“Joined out of college, I got a football scholarship to State University in Hegeman,” That was something else he missed — playing football. “Jumped into the military after graduation.”
You smiled, peering toward the glass partition that led onto the balcony. Twilight turned to an inky black, moonlight trickling through the windows.
“I’m not the most athletically-inclined person.” You laughed, having a look around the room. Everything was vibrant, lively — the sort of cozy environment that you envied.
“I can’t anymore,” Ben mused, evening the score before he gestured toward the stairs. “I won’t show you Reed’s lab. If he found out, think his head would explode.”
“I understand,” Following behind him, he led you toward a spiral staircase, one that wrapped around a white column. “It’s wonderful here. I love how everything is designed.”
“Susie’s got an eye for it,” He replied, leading you upstairs to a sprawling corridor. “We’ll skip over Johnny’s bachelor pad.”
“Are none of them here?” Curious, you glanced at a myriad of photographs on the wall, all of them from Reed and Sue’s wedding.
One of the pictures showed four people — Reed, Sue, Johnny, and another taller man. From the way he had his arm thrown around Reed’s shoulder, you discerned that it was Ben.
“Asked for privacy,” Ben murmured, tone lowering to something solemn. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you on the first date.” He mused, visage softening.
“I appreciate that,” With another smile, you quietly admired the photograph, lashes kissing the skin beneath your eyes. “I was really nervous about this, to be honest.”
A sliver of him worried that your anxiety had something to do with him. “Why’s that, if you don’t mind me askin’?” He kept his tone soft, a gravelly lull.
“I haven’t dated in awhile,” You hummed, visibly sheepish. “I guess I worried that I’d bore you to death, or do something to embarrass myself.”
It was an innocuous confession, but genuine; Ben seemed visibly surprised. He was in his own head about everything, thinking you’d spend time with him and change your mind.
Sometimes the popularity was just as tantalizing, dating someone who saved the world. It didn’t take much for Ben to know that that wasn’t you at all.
“Looks like we’re worried about the same thing,” Ben guffawed, mildly bemused. Whatever insecurities scratched at him subsided slightly. “It’s been a lotta years for me.”
“Really? I’m surprised,” Canting your head to one side, you turned to face him. “I thought you would have lines out the door for a date with you.”
Ben blinked, rocky lips parting in surprise. “That’s more of Johnny’s forte, y’know,” He grunted, hand idly clenching into a fist at his side. “I haven’t had as much luck.”
“I’m glad you asked me, seriously,” Bright-eyed, your enthusiasm settled into your cadence, making Ben’s heart skip a beat. “I almost said no to coming here.”
His heart faltered when you said you almost declined his invitation. “Ah — Sorry if I …”
“Not because of you, Ben,” You began, flashing another comforting smile. “Coming here scared me, I didn’t want it to feel like I was intruding.”
“Oh,” Ben stared at you for a beat, blue hues drifting over your countenance, appreciative. “You aren’t intruding at all, so you know.”
“That’s good,” Reassured, you smoothed a hand over your dress, softly clearing your throat. “I’ve had a great time so far, too.” You didn’t want to prod him for the rest of the tour — this meant more to you.
“Me too,” Gesturing towards the leftmost hallway, he showed you some of the Building’s other fixtures. There was one door left ajar, and he proceeded to shut it. “Open door.”
“What’s in there?” Intrigued, you noticed the flash of nervousness in his eyes. It dissipated, but he waved your curiosity aside. “Top secret, huh?” You teased, and he laughed.
“Nothing important,” Ben replied, and before the both of you could move away, H.E.R.B.I.E came rolling through, opening the door aggressively. “Herbs, hey! You don’t gotta …”
It was a bedroom, and from what you could glimpse of it, it must’ve been his room. H.E.R.B.I.E whirred and beeped, barreling past as the robot placed laundry down on the table.
“Is this your room?” Hushed, you didn’t want to pry into his business, standing by the wall. “We don’t have to go inside!”
“Yeah, ah — We can check it out,” Ben shrugged, stepping inside before giving H.E.R.B.I.E a pointed stare. “Sorry for the mess. Wasn’t expecting any visitors.” He mused.
“It’s tidy,” The interior was warm, much of the furnishings made to be larger, sturdier to accommodate his affliction. “What qualifies as a mess to you?”
The military taught him to be orderly, organized; those habits still hadn’t left him. Ben chuckled, warm and mirthful as he let you look around.
A shelf of photographs and sentimental knickknacks sat on a mahogany shelf, scattered amongst books and piloting manuals.
One in particular was Ben, younger and sporting a State University football uniform. Another showed him and Reed, wearing their astronaut suits — the same worn in the cosmic accident.
Another frame held a photograph of Ben, alone in a nice suit, posing for what seemed like a biography picture. His expression was solemn — a slight smile, good posture, brown hair graying at the temples.
Glass was cracked on the frame, as if it’d been dropped or thrown, wood splintered in multiple places. You picked it up, a pang of empathy rippling through you.
“Used to be good-looking.”
Ben’s voice reverberated throughout the room, carrying with it a forlorn hush, as if he were caging darker sentiments. He seemed sad, as if the picture hurt him somewhat.
Placing the photo down, you glanced at him, quiet for several beats. “Used to be? You still are.” You replied, entirely unphased by his appearance.
Disbelief rippled through him, and his body shook with a soft scoff, as if the notion was preposterous. “You don’t gotta lie to me.” He murmured, shifting to sit down on the edge of his bed.
“What makes you think I’m lying?” Your question resonated with him, and you stayed beside the sofa, leaning against the back of it.
Silent, Ben gave a brief shrug, rocky hands perched atop his knees. “Used to it, you know?” His smile was deceivingly threadbare. “I’m aware of how I look and what it means.”
“I don’t mind,” Sincere, you stepped closer, sinking down beside him at a polite distance. “I think you’re really handsome.” You were being truthful, and you hoped he’d believe you.
He struggled to believe you, despite the genuineness saturating your tone. “I wanna try to believe you, I do,” Ben uttered. “It’s not easy.”
“I know, and that’s okay,” A comforting smile settled onto your features, legs swinging over the carpet. “Maybe with time, you’ll believe me.” You affirmed, and he chuckled.
“You’re something else, you know that?” He meant it, too — you were unlike any girl he’d met before. Most of them were gone by this point in the date; not you.
Smitten, your head dipped, gaze flickering elsewhere as your hands fell into your lap. “That’s really sweet of you to say, Ben. I want to see you again after this.”
“You do?” Incredulous, he tried again, keeping himself calm and suave. “Ah — I did promise to take you to that jazz club sometime, if you wanna.” He smiled, stifling his elation.
“I’d love that,” Beaming, you swung one leg back and forth, hand shifting to reach for his own. “Maybe you could teach me to be a better cook, too.”
“Hah,” Ben chuckled, seemingly agreeable to your proposal. “I can do that. I can’t promise anything spectacular, but it might expand your palette.”
“Perfect,” You hesitated, your smile never wavering even in the face of nerves. “It’s a date, then.” You weren’t met with any resistance on the matter, which was a good thing.
As if gaining some sliver of confidence, he held your hand, his grasp deceivingly gentle, ensuring that he didn’t hurt you.
“You look really beautiful.” Ben murmured, somewhat bolstered by your presence. You made him feel comfortable, human again.
“Oh,” Flattered, you smiled again, hand neatly folded within his. “Thank you. I pulled this thing from the depths of my closet.” You mused, picking at the hem.
“Couldn’t tell,” He squinted, leaning in as if to blow something off of your shoulder. “Wait, hold on. Jesus, there’s a lotta dust you got there.”
“You’re kidding,” You groaned, but before you could try and brush it off, you noticed Ben’s bemused expression. “You’re messing with me.”
“Sorry,” Ben laughed, pearlescent teeth and all. The blue of his eyes glimmered with warmth, nervousness having dissipated. “You’re easy to tease.”
“Ouch,” With a bubbly laugh, your anxiousness had faded in-turn, and you seemed entirely smitten with him. The closeness was there, charged with a warm affection. “How could you?”
His mouth split into an amused grin. “You’re probably regretting agreeing to that second date right about now,” He laughed, and you shook your head. “No?”
“Not at all,” Squeezing his hand, you tilted closer, as if studying him intently. It wasn’t gawking — it’s like you were trying to see his soul. “I don’t want this night to end.”
Ben stilled at your confession, spoken through a delicate cadence and low smile, enough to make him sit a little straighter.
He wasn’t Johnny — he wasn’t suave with flocks of women swarming him. He never had trouble with getting a date, until the accident; every shred of confidence seemed squashed.
When he noticed you leaning in, it was the universal sign of wanting more; and he nearly moved away then and there like a coward.
Something kept him grounded — maybe it was his own underlying want, or maybe he was frozen, subject to whatever happened next.
Subconsciously, he was tilting inward too, as if he were just an astronaut again — Ben the pilot, Ben the veteran, Ben the football star and not Ben Grimm, the Thing.
“I shouldn’t.”
Ben’s utterance didn’t entirely surprise you, but you weren’t about to pull away. Instead, you stayed there, gaze shifting toward his mouth as if it were commonplace.
“I want you to,” Sweet as ever, you lavished him in gentle encouragement; not forceful, just kind. “I do, but only if that’s something you want, too.”
He wanted it bad — and that’s what scared him.
Swallowing the slight lump within his throat, he considered leaving it all then and there. With his appearance, he felt as if you were just being nice, throwing pity on him.
The longer he stared at your face, the more he realized that you were genuine in your own attraction, and that seemed to terrify him even more.
“You might change your mind afterwards,” Ben muttered, as if trying to talk himself and you out of what was about to happen. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
“We’ll see.” Your counter-remark didn’t come as a shock, but he happened to huff, instead. Silence followed suit, a deep breath before the plunge, steeling himself.
It was a mutual gravitation, the both of you tilting lower, together until mouths brushed over one another. You didn’t have any expectations, but you were surprised by how soft he was.
Not him; his mouth.
The kiss stretched on longer than he thought it would, longer still when you decided to continue. Ben inhaled; a sharper, poignant noise, but he didn’t pull himself away.
He stopped, tensing when he felt your hand fall flat against his jaw, flesh kissing the uneven surface of chitinous rock.
“Is this okay?” You asked, noticing the bewildered glint in his eyes, as if you’d done something mildly offensive. “I can stop, if you …”
“No,” Ben interjected, savoring the sensation of your palm holding his face. There was something intimate about it, the closeness. “This ain’t so bad.” He mumbled.
“Yeah?” Little more than a mere whisper, your tender tone beguiled him once more. Instead of sitting there, it was him who initiated this time, kissing you again.
When your lips pressed against his, he didn’t feel as tense this time around. Part of him felt a twinge of delight, savoring the feeling of your mouth.
The uneven, rocky texture of his jaw jutted into your palm, mouth shifting delicately against his own. Kissing him didn’t bother you — in fact, you liked it.
He was gentle, respectful of your space. Ben figured that you would’ve stopped by now, found it unpleasant and pulled away; but you didn’t.
Sitting a little straighter, you careened inward, feeling the gravelly grunt that reverberated from his chest. When he shifted, hand falling against the small of your back, you shivered.
There wasn’t anything different about kissing him from any other person — it was Ben, and you didn’t mind.
You didn’t shy away from anything, from the amorous nature of your kiss. Desire rippled at the fringes, palpable when your lips met again, prompting him to exhale.
The softness of your mouth starkly contrasted with his, rough and uneven like the jagged surface of a stone. Though, you didn’t mind whatsoever, keening into him with a light smile.
Ben sluggishly drew away after another beat, gazing at you incredulously, mildly mesmerized by your sense of calm.
“That doesn’t bother you?” Ben inquired, bewildered as you shook your head. “Ain’t been kissed like that in a long time.” He sighed, hand rubbing circles over your back.
“Neither have I,” You confessed, reaching to fiddle with the collar of his button-up. “I liked it, though. I don’t think it’s any different from anyone else.”
Giving you a soft smile, he chuckled, gaze glittering with tenderness. “You’re sweet,” He murmured, tilting inward to press a firm kiss to your cheek. “Think I could get used to this.”
“Me too,” The pads of your fingers drifted over his cheek, mapping out every divot, every plane of rock. “Can I ask you something?”
“Course,” He rumbled, steadily tracing across your waist, almost cautiously. Part of him was afraid of hurting you — he wasn’t soft anymore. “Anything.”
“Does it hurt?” Your cadence lowered into something gentle, etched with concern.
“Nah,” Ben shrugged, staying still as you caressed along his cheek, digits smoothing over the ridges above his brows. “Used to, not anymore.”
Quiet, you pressed a kiss against his jaw, head coming to rest against his shoulder. There was a subtle hitch that formed within his throat, lips parting in delight.
This wasn’t something he ever dreamed of having again, not after Deborah. He’d resigned himself to being a curiosity and commodity, but you didn’t make him feel that way.
He felt real with you; like he was flesh again.
“I had a great time tonight,” Wading through the silence, your tone resonated with him, as sweet as ever. “I don’t want to leave, but I’ve got work in the morning.”
“I get it,” Ben assured, letting out a low grunt as he stood, hand extended for you. “You let me know when you got time. How would you feel about comin’ over for family dinner?”
“Meeting the others?” Surprised, you felt a warm flush crawl over the back of your throat. “I’d love that! Are you sure you want me to …”
“Really sure,” He swore, feeling your hand slip over his palm as he helped you up. “Johnny’s gonna start doubting that you’re real.”
“I’m very real,” In a playful protest, you skipped forward, throwing an arm against his chest. “You’re so handsome, Ben.” You sighed, practically swooning.
If he weren’t like this, he would’ve been smooth and suave, maybe teased you and pulled you close. Now, he was stupefied, flustered like some schoolboy.
“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Ben grumbled, delicately grasping your hand before clearing his throat. “C’mon, I’ll walk you down. I don’t wanna keep you up all night.”
As he walked you back to the elevator, he made sure to grab your purse and coat. He was quiet as he helped you back into the garment, gentlemanly as could be.
Once inside, he felt your hand snake around his tie, drawing him down for a kiss. This one was charged, fiery; it took him by surprise, but he didn’t recoil whatsoever.
With a sharp inhale, Ben savored your mouth against his, gravelly lips working to reciprocate your kiss. Your hand was coiled around his tie and his hands were hovering above your waist.
Static hummed within his brain, dissolving his rationale. He was mildly surprised by your boldness, by the way you kissed him as if he didn’t look like that.
He felt like it was either too good to be true, or maybe this was the universe’s way of apologizing.
It was quiet in the elevator, save for your excitable exhales and the light shuffling of carpet beneath your feet. Ben held you close, having to steady himself from buckling.
Each kiss made him feel dizzy, but it further cemented his confidence, as if nothing could rattle him after this. He reciprocated as best as he could, without feeling intrusive.
When you drew away, mesmerized and warm beneath the collar, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. “That wasn’t too mu—”
Before you could push the words out and muster up an apology, it was Ben who kissed you again, letting it linger. The gravelly bite of his mouth was something you enjoyed.
“You don’t realize how good that was,” He grunts, tone dropping an octave. “Lookin’ like this, it’s been hard, and you aren’t bothered by it.”
“I’m not bothered,” Gently, your hands moved to perch against his chest. The elevator chimed at the main floor, opening into the building’s lobby. “Nothing to be bothered about.”
Ben sighed, mouth twitching into a smile of quiet elation. A beat passed, and he admired you with a growing adoration, blue eyes sparkling with mirth.
“Thanks for this,” He didn’t want you to go, but he knew you had a life outside of all of this. “You let me know when you’re free again, and I’ll take you out.” Ben offered without hesitation.
“Great,” Beaming, you planted a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t wait to see you again, Ben. You should come to the shelter sometime, or call me!” You piped up as he walked you towards the doors.
“I can do both,” He nodded, hand hovering around the small of your back. There was a weight lifted off of him; he was beaming. “I really wanna see you again — soon, if I can.”
“I’ll make it happen.” You smiled, all excited and tangled into a knot of elation. As you stopped by the doors, he leaned in, planting a chaste kiss against your forehead.
“Great,” Relaxed, he held the door aloft, gallant as could be. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Ben.” Unable to wipe the grin from your face, you waved goodbye, slipping out of the doors of the Baxter Building.
He watched you leave like he’d won the lottery, and it really felt that way. Ben hadn’t felt this way before; he’d never felt this way about someone else.
A beat of silence followed as he laughed to himself, half incredulity and half disbelief. “Jesus, she really does like you.” He mused to himself, moving to head back towards the elevator.
Once upstairs, he was met with Johnny, looking all too eager for a bedtime story, pajamas and all. “That good, huh? When’s the wedding?”
Ben nearly shooed him off, but he was incredibly persistent, cereal box in-hand.
CONTENT WARNING: afab reader, blood, violence, alcohol, mention of assaults, more to be added.
CATEGORY: shit ton of fluff and sfw, maybe angst?
SUMMARY: a witch trying her best to lay low and live her life, while being out of every gothams vigilante's radar. turns out red hood had been her neighbour all along. also they have cute little pets.
WC: 4k
A/N: another jason fic yep. i didn't really have a solid idea but i just really wanted to write something so.... enjoy!
fic masterlist. next.
dividers by @cursed-carmine
gotham is filled with all kinds of criminals, masterminds, lunatics, druglords— you name it. each has done such horrible deeds that it has scarred hearts and souls of every innocent, each has a certain level of craziness in them that requires insane amount of intellect to even catch them. and despite the vigilantes giving their utmost best, everyday having to push themselves to think better, be faster... criminals still hide in those dark alleys, unbound and free.
so you can't really blame the protectors of the city, as they like to call themselves, to be cautious of every activity that goes on in the city. they are understandably hostile to superheroes who try to help, a bit too hostile sometimes in your opinion, but maybe the massive workload makes them snippy.
being a witch and living in gotham is a bit tough therefore, you not only have to hide your powers from the normal people but also from the vigilantes. you do not want to be evicted out of the only city where you can afford the rent, that too without any dignity since witches are sort of still discriminated by the myths and fake stories. still, its understandable, mankind has always been afraid of what they can't control or understand.
you had been ridiculously meticulous in your choice of residence, not like you had much choice to begin with. but you had scouted out the area as best as you could to your needs, and upon confirming that there wasn't much vigilante sighting in the neighborhood, you had finally settled.
a barista's salary didn't really help much, but you didn't really have much needs. your only goal was to live a drama free, quiet life where you could experiment with your little spells (harmless ones.. of course) and, the most important, provide for your little gentleman, alfred, a cute little doberman (he's huge). that was your goal, the ideal life you chased— should chase. but often a heart's desire overwhelm the logic of mind.
you have a penchant for getting into trouble. having promised to never get involved in anything that might shed light upon your existence, you strayed from that promise more often than not. all for good deeds, mostly.
"this is the third time this month. i have got to practice some self control." you sigh as you nudge the body of the man on the ground, groaning and coughing up blood. your brows furrow in mild annoyance as you kick his thigh this time.
"i didn't even use a strong spell! come on you wuss!" you softly groaned to yourself before sighing as you looked away for a moment, scratching your brow with your nail. the blood wasn't a problem, to be honest you wouldn't give a crap if he died. he was assaulting a sweet old man, punching him to death— you just had to step in.
...maybe you stepped in too much. now his arm is twisting at an odd angle, you were supposed to teach him a simple lesson. just give him some scare that'll scar him for life. now he got a bonus broken arm.
you've left one too many mens like that lying and crying, and it'll only be a matter of time before they lead those pesky vigilantes to your doorstep.
you put on a spell that altered his memory of your face, in case he saw it, before turning around to be on your merry way. but cue gotham weather's shitty timing, it starts pouring hard.
"mother nature you're really teasing me today..." you murmured sarcastically to yourself, yet sauntering off unbothered, rain never bothered you much anyway. you just hate how the clothes get all damp and clingy, weighing down your body.
by the time you reach your place you're visibly drenched to the bone, humming some tune under your breath, totally not seeing the man walking ahead of you. and so consequently you bump into his back, eyes widening for a moment as you stepped back with an apology right on your tongue.
but they die on your lips when you see the most brilliant bluish green eyes glance back at you, bitter and hostile. but you've always had a weak spot for pretty things, and when the man turns fully, you note he is the most prettiest man you've ever laid your eyes on.
you're far too lost in admiring him that you fail to notice the slight shift in his demeanor. after all, jason was already in a wretched mood and the next second he turns around to see an absolutely drenched women staring back at him. he isn't that easily fazed, your skin glistens, the damp and dripping hair clinging to the side of your face, that makes you look gorgeous but he's seen gorgeous. your eyes though— they seem unreal. feel unreal. there's just something otherworldly about it— ethereal even. and he's not among those to be poetic.
you realise you've been staring for a second too long and the silence becomes awkward real quick, you blink and step back with a polite smile. "sorry. i uh— wasn't looking where i was going." his brow raised slightly at your politeness, seemingly even more sweet due to your low and honeyed voice.
"no problem." he murmured casually, his voice even more grumpy and rougher than usual, a tough night and patrol hasn't even started. he then turned around and ascended the stairs, and so did you, lagging behind by two steps. you couldn't make the pretty man uncomfortable after all.
but he noticed you following him floor after floor, stopping right when he did at his floor before your steps softly followed behind him again. when he reached his door he turned around, and found you looking back at him with the same confusion.
"...hi neighbour?" you jokingly whispered with a hesitant smile but he didn't.
"how long have you been living here?" that came out more as an interrogative question than a confused one and it made your brows raise in amusement. this one's got a feisty side.
"a few months. wasn't aware anyone lived there." you replied back coolly with a smile that bordered serene yet sultry. his eyes dropped down to it for a small second, narrowing slightly as if the smile irritated him. it indeed irritated him because of the shiver that ran down his spine at the sight of it.
"I've lived here for more than a year. never seen you before." he retorted like he's insinuating an accusation and your lips pull to a slow grin.
"you're awfully stingy for a pretty neighbour." you remark, your nose scrunching up in fake disappointment as you unlock your door.
stingy?
"pretty? " he didn't know what of those words baffled him more, yet that was the one that had to come out of his mouth.
"and interrogative. are you in the gcpd or something?" you asked as you leaned your weight against your door which was slightly ajar.
"no. you're the one interrogating now." he scoffed quietly as he turned around, fetching his key out his pocket.
"seems like you don't know the difference between making conversation and interrogation." you lightly chuckle and thats when he realised its your voice thats the root of the irritation being caused in his already irritated mind. its irritatingly sweet and honeyed— addictive may be the right word.
"that's your version of making conversation?" he scowls as he opened his door and stepped inside while your grin widened, he finds your amusement at his expense really insulting.
"only with pretty, grumpy neighbours."
"and is that your way of flirting? cus its not effective."
"slow down, pretty boy. if you think this is flirting then clearly you haven't been properly flirted with before. how sad." if he can't handle your teasing, he'd be a downright mess when you actually flirt then. and those reddened embarrassed cheeks simply intensify the want to flirt with him.
he gives you one last scathing glare before shutting the door on your face. a chuckle quietly escapes your lips as you call out a loud "goodnight!" which you're probably sure he heard and frowned even more.
you step in your apartment and close the door, flicking on the candles with a swish of your hand. you could just switch on the lights but you secretly love the theatrics. a quick spell could dry you but a warm shower would probably help you more.
and it does help you, you're more relaxed and less tense. your muscles feels like mush just like your head. and yet, as you lay on your bed, your eyes are open wide and awake. you're a bit of an insomniac. its a bother and inconvenience but just like ever other nuisance in your life, you've gotten used to it.
just like always you get up, grab a grimoire and your reading glasses, learning a spell or two. it usually takes you more than an hour to understand and practice and most nights it ends up with something getting on fire or your own self. you suppose that's the fun part.
and again, like always, you get bored and lay back on your bed. this time the pretty neighbour occupies your mind, beauty aside, it is a question that you met him just today when he claims to have been living for a year. why didn't you bump into him before?
you hoped for no trouble, yet something tells you he'll make you be neck deep in one.
"again? " jason frowned as he dropped to the ground with a muted thump of his boots, not a noise at his landing, its like second nature to him.
"third this month." oracle spoke through the comms and jason crouched infront of the little blood that was splattered across the gritty pavement, the rain had washed off most of it yet some stayed, seeped into the earth like a taint.
"some random person reported it almost an hour ago and he was taken to get treated." oracle continued and jason scoffed sarcastically, "you're telling me the cops beat me to it? that's a first."
she simply rolled her eyes at that, "i checked his background. a typical small time thief, arrested quiet a few times for mugging and burglary."
he grunted as a response and looked around but nothing else was amiss. with a sigh he got up, "someone's doing our work here. unfortunately for us they're pretty good at it."
"not for long." Jason's brows furrowed a bit on reflex as bruce's voice came in, "they're bound to slip."
"they haven't for the last two month. maybe they might never." course he agreed with bruce, but where's the fun in agreeing?
"they will. and we have to catch them. they're a threat to the city—"
"times like these, wish i was deaf."
"what was that?"
Jason's not that worried about the mysterious person on the loose beating up criminals, he's sure they were probably in the act of committing a crime to deserve this. but bruce's worry has a point, they need to know who it is. not everyone's a protector. they may be saving right now, but is that all they're doing?
jason knows first-hand how times change, how fast people change. how deceiving time could be, how deceiving humans can be.
his mind is immediately pulled to you at that thought, someone who looks pretty harmless, eyes that are both innocent yet alluring like a siren's. you looked even more helpless and naive in your drenched form. yet all it took was for you to smile and that image shattered.
that smile was a warning in itself, an omen as if. innocence might be something of a past to you, your eyes held no fear, no apprehension. your smile was steady and dangerous, he's a man who has fought back death, rendered men almost lifeless with just his fist— and still his gut told him you were not to be taken lightly. harmless you might be, for now, but not innocent.
he returned back at his place at dawn, grunting and groaning at the sore muscles that ached here and there.
"at this point im gonna age faster than alfred." he murmured to himself with an almost pout. a quick shower and some television were supposed to really tire him out, but sleep escaped him. insomnia the trouble of yet another person.
and he doesn't really leave his place much, but today he felt like it. maybe a walk might help him. its still early so he doubts the streets to be that busy.
he really should have thought this through.
"hey pretty neighbour." he gave a deadpanned stare to that same amusing smile of yours.
"ooh you don't seem like a morning person." you pretend to frown, still locking your door before turning around with a wink, "i know you for less than twelve hours and we already have something in common. is this destiny's sign for something more? " you said dramatically, taking huge delight at his annoyance.
"no, but my headache's a perfect sign for nothing ever." he quietly snapped as he slammed his door shut a little too hard tugging on his hood over a bit before walking away.
"so you do have sarcasm." came your voice not too far behind him, but he knows you're not following him. he saw your clothes when he stepped out, formal and perfectly ironed for work. maybe it really was the rain that gave him the innocent illusion last night.
he sighed as he started descending the stairs, shaking his head as he immediately regretted his decision for this walk.
"you talk a lot." he called out and heard your quiet chuckle in response, "you talk too less." his steps became hurried and your grin simply widened.
"would you tell me your name if i ask you?" you asked him, your smile barely contained and he rolled his eyes, "think you already know the answer."
soon both of you stepped out on the pavement and you turned to face him with a teasing smile, "guess I'll just call you pretty neighbour then."
you waved at him goodbye before he could turn the other way, and yelled "bye pretty neighbour!" as loud as you could, making sure it'll turn heads.
his eyes widened for a moment before he glared at you in disbelief, then swiftly turned around to walk away from imminent embarrassment. maybe it was better if he never knew he had a neighbour next door, no matter how beautiful you are. he sighed to himself as your smile flashed in his mind, unfortunately you really were beautiful. damn you.
you loved your barista job, after all it involved brewing and you were, not to brag, quite the master at it. you kept your conversations with the customers at a minimal, there's no need to involve in idle chatter with them. your coworkers though are a bunch of sweethearts, mostly, so its never a headache working there.
but sometimes some assholes walk in, harassing the workers, some be rude to you about the order even when its made just like they want— but you do what you gotta do to survive.
when you're returning on your way back home, your mood's sour than usual. you don't have it in you to even smile. all anyone would want after a shitty day at job, is the damn bed. even if you can't sleep.
but, the world always tests you on your worst days.
you stop dead in your tracks just a few steps away from your unit, whose door is wide open by the way. your senses heightened and every spell on the tip of your tongue. you didn't have to worry about all your witchy things being stolen or affected since they're all safely locked in a cupboard bound by a spell, unseen by anyone other than you. your important things are also spell bound to your home so no thief can take them out of your apartment.
no, what you're worried about is alfred.
you peaked inside in your own home, the lights were on. you slowly pushed the door without making a sound, a little proud at the creaky door to not give you away today.
suddenly your eyes caught the top of someone's head peaking from behind your dining table— alfred's there too! your eyes widened and your brows furrowed into an angry glare.
"step the fuck away from alfred!" you extended your hand, about to cripple the hell out of whoever that is— but then you see your pretty neighbour straighten up fast and alfred perk up before rushing to you, all smiles and happy.
"woah woah chill— wait who??? " his initial shock subsided to one of pure confusion as he stood there with his hands raised.
ignoring him you crouched down to alfred's height, checking him for any injury because heaven knows if there is one, then that pretty neighbour might not leave the world very pretty—
"he's fine." he said as he slowly rounded the table before stopping short at the sight of your glare. it was... a change, different. he had the impression of you being as much of a nuisance as dick is, if not more. but right now all your eyes hold is hostility and distrust.
"i'll be the judge of that." you snapped at him before plastering a helpless smile for alfred who, suddenly, very surprising of him, trotted back to your neighbour. and you just stayed rooted to your position as your mind errored because what the fuck????
alfred barely ever lets anyone touch him. he had a difficult time when he was just a puppy in an abusive household. he only trusted two people, one is you and your best friend.
you look up at the neighbour with the same dumbfounded expression and for the first time he found it in himself to smile, it was a bit cocky but a smile nonetheless.
"you... what.. what did you do to him? and why the hell did you break into my apartment?" you questioned as you rose to your full height, regarding him suspiciously.
he gave you an unimpressed look at your immediate assumptions before sighing, "i was in my apartment when i heard him growling. loudly. then he started barking. turns out someone was lurking outside of your apartment."
"what?"
"yeah. he had already picked the lock actually, acted like he was opening the door and claimed that he lived there. if i hadn't met you last night, i might have been given him the benefit of doubt. when i confronted he said he was dating you. but i knew that was bullshit." he shrugged like it was no trouble.
you were a bit stunned. yes you thought of him pretty, maybe a nice man but you never expected him to be nice, you never expect anyone to be nice. the world had taught you time and time again that humanity is scarce and kindness is a luxury.
"oh." you murmured before lightly shaking your head, "oh that's— thank you. i- where's that man now?"
his lips slightly tugged up in amusement at your stunned look, feeling maybe a teensy bit of pride to wrong whatever misconception you had of him. "he lives two floors up actually. don't worry i made sure he will be kicked out."
"....thanks." you mumbled out before rubbing the side of your face, you hated being in the wrong, and awkward and embarrassing situations like this. how the hell did you miss an asshole like that? you thought you knew everyone from the apartment as a safety measure.
"i- um sorry i assumed and accused you." you took his words as final because alfred was literally sat near his feet. alfred's a great judge of character.
but this time he didn't scoff or smirk, instead there was a soft smile on his face. he understood your anger after all. "s alright. i understand i also have—"
you froze when you felt something brush by your feet, something very soft and— "meow."
you looked down and there it is, a very adorable, very extra soft siamese cat, who is now staring down alfred like he wronged all her ancestors.
you look up at him with raised brows and with a tired sigh he points at himself, confirming your assumption.
"sorry-"
"can i pet?" you asked softly, looking up at him with such hopeful eyes that all he could do was nod. you crouched down and approached the cat carefully, extending your hand. the cat inspected a little before rubbing against your hand.
"who's this beautiful little baby?" you mused, grinning wide as you scratched the cat.
"... miss pearl." he mumbled too quietly but you have good ears, and unlike how he expected you to laugh at that, you simply smiled in great approval.
upon remembering something his brows furrowed again, "um sorry what did you say his name was?" he pointed at alfred and you looked up at him with most proud smile. "alfred."
"huh." that's a really funny coincidence and a small laugh started spilling out his lips slowly. you looked up at him with furrowed brows, "what?"
"no. nothing. great name."
"are you making fun of him?"
"you really think i would?"
"...hm."
you got up finally and smiled at him, it didn't have that sultry undertone— just a smile.
"again, thank you." you said and he nodded suddenly finding his cat more interesting to look at, his ears reddening.
"uh your place. great aesthetic huh." he said, diverting the topic and you looked around. it didn't look that much like a typical witch's home, but there were too many candles everywhere that normally, normal people don't really have.
his eyes narrowed a bit as he smiled amusingly, he did find that... eccentric.
there was a beat of silence as you looked at candles at literally every flat surfaces.
"i just really like candles. they're scented." you said with the most convincing smile you could conjure up. he didn't buy it, but didn't question it either. gotham is filled with every sort of weird after all.
slave to your habit you still ran your eyes around your apartment, while he picked up miss pearl, but everything was at its place. you really gotta put a spell on the damn door now, the lock had already been weak.
he was almost in his unit before you called out behind him, "all this help and you still won't give me a proper introduction?" that teasing tone was back in your voice.
he sighed in exasperation as he turned around, but weirdly enough, to reasons unknown to him, his ears felt warm again.
"jason."
"jason.." you grinned wide and replied back with your name before winking at him. he simply gave a deadpanned stare before shutting his door.
he let pearl go from his arms, while staring off at a distance, his eyes a little hazy as his mind repeated the way you said his name. shaking his head he scoffed, you were nothing more than just a weird little neighbour.
come next morning he's about to head to bed when he heard a knock. his brows furrowed as he wondered who the hell is bothering him this early. but there was no one when he opened the door, nothing but a small little tin box on the floor with designs engraved on it.
he picked it up suspiciously before taking off the lid, in there were some... tea bags? there was also a note, in there was a little message written in neat words.
this helps with insomnia. its my personal favorite too. hope you do know how to brew some tea.
your pretty neighbour ;)
now he realises what exactly feels weird when he sees you, its his silly little heart.
⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You and Ben go to the State Fair in New York, but Ben struggles with his new look. Luckily he has the best girl in the world to help him.
⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: None, I think🤞 just adorable Ben who is trying to adjust to his new life.
Ben was feeling nauseous. His hands felt sweaty, and he found it hard to breathe. He felt countless eyes on him, and he could hear people talking about him behind his back.
“Hey, take a deep breath, baby. You’re okay.”
Ben immediately turned to his right to be met with your calming presence. He did as you told him and took a deep breath.
“That’s it, honey.” You smiled while taking his big hand in yours.
“I-I don’t know if this is such a good idea, sweetheart,” Ben mumbled quietly.
You heard his words and looked around. “Here, follow me,” you said while tugging him along with you.
You and Ben were currently at the State Fair in New York for the first time since his transformation. It had been rather difficult for Ben to adjust to his new form, or rather, his new life. Ben never really liked attention; he was more of a quiet guy, except with his friends or with you. But now he was getting loads of attention. Everywhere he went, people would stare at him and talk about him.
It took a lot of time for Ben to get used to it, hell, he still wasn’t used to it. But thank God he had you.
“Here, it’s just the two of us now,” you said quietly as you pulled Ben behind one of the fair booths where they sold candy. Ben gave you a slight smile while scratching his head.
Ben had a hard time believing how much you still loved him and cared for him now that he had changed so much. Well, according to you, only his appearance had changed (which was true) but Ben was so sure you would leave him once you had seen his new “look.”
How wrong he was.
“Are you okay?”
Ben blinked a few times before giving a nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just a lot. I can practically feel their eyes burning into my back, you know.”
Your smile faded a little as you listened. You kind of felt guilty, you had begged Ben to take you to the State Fair. You two used to go every year before his transformation, so it seemed fun to do it again this year. Only things had changed.
Ben was pretty reluctant at first, but when he saw how excited you were, he just couldn’t say no. And he did want to do “normal” things. So going to the State Fair was just one of them, right?
“We can go home if you want to,” you offered kindly, but Ben shook his head immediately.
“No, you were so excited to come here, sweetheart. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting different, I just feel so…”
Ben couldn’t find the right words, but you knew what he was trying to say.
“We can take it one step at a time, baby. Why don’t we go on the Ferris wheel first? Maybe we can spot the Baxter Building?” you offered while moving closer to Ben.
“Would I fit?” he asked nervously as you placed your hands on his chest.
“Of course! Those Ferris wheel booths are huge,” you answered excitedly.
Ben couldn’t help but smile at how cute you looked. “Alright, if you say so, sweetheart.” He leaned down and kissed you on the top of your head before taking one of your hands in his.
Sure, he was still afraid of what everyone thought about him, but Ben was also sure about giving you the time of your life. So, for now, he pushed his insecurities away and led you to the Ferris wheel.
Once the two of you were there, Ben paid for two tickets, and before you knew it, you were high in the sky.
“This is amazing!” you giggled as you looked around, taking in New York from above. You were about to get on your feet to get a better view, but Ben thought differently.
“Whoa, let’s not do that,” he said as he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back against him on the bench.
“Sorry.” You smiled as you looked at him.
“You are so beautiful, Ben.” You smiled as you took him in. You knew that Ben was really struggling with his self-image after the transformation, but to you, he was still just as beautiful.
Ben took a deep breath upon hearing your words. He knew that you were honest, which scared him even more.
“I know that you might not see it right now, but believe me, baby, you are beautiful, and I love you very much.” You placed a big kiss on Ben’s cheek before wrapping yourself around him.
Ben immediately felt a warm sensation running through his body, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you.
“Thank you, sweetheart, really. And I love you. So much.” Ben mumbled against the top of your head.
“You know what, let’s go home after this,” you suggested as you looked up at Ben.
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure?You were so excited to be here.”
You shrugged while looking around. “The only thing I was really excited about was this, actually.”
“What?” asked Ben, still surprised.
“Being here with you. On the Ferris wheel, watching the sunset!” you smiled.
Ben also started smiling while shaking his head. “So you really want to go home after this?”
You nodded. “I’d rather cuddle up in bed with you and watch a movie anyway.”
“Then that is what we are going to do,” chuckled Ben while holding your cheek in his hand.
“Perfect.” You smiled as you slowly rose up higher. You gently wrapped your arms around Ben’s neck and kissed him deeply. Ben immediately returned the gesture and kept you close to him, not wanting to let go of you. Ever.
After a moment, the two of you parted to catch your breaths, which led to you leaning your head onto Ben’s shoulder so you could still see the sunset.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you asked as you smiled up at the sky.
Ben nodded, his eyes on you the whole time. “So beautiful,” he smiled softly.
It would definitely take some time for Ben to get used to his new self and his new life, but he sure as hell is blessed to have such a beautiful girl like you to help him get through it.
(A/N): MY FIRST BEN GRIMM FANFIC!! I had such a blast writing this! I really hope you all enjoyed it! If you have any requests for Ben, please send them my way!
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