#I’m struggling not to make everything about Jason and failing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lightwing-s · 3 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,4k warnings: mentions of heavy drinking, sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, language, size kink, breast play, male dominance, jason's sex stimulated superiority complex

a/n: the fact this was supposed to be way longer scared me of how many chapters i might need to end this series lol. and i tried making it possible to read without the context of the series for those who just want to read a nice smut lol. also, thank you for all the support thus far, it has been incredible seeing so many people invested in this story and wanting to see its development. thank you thank you thank you for supporting this silly writer's dream. ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

Thanks, man. Have a good night. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason thanked the driver before he watched his Uber ride drive his car away, turning the corner and leaving the street he was left on. The night was cold and dark, the faint lighting of the streetlamp doing nothing to provide him a clear view of his ambiance, instead, all was gloom.

Standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he let out a deep, long sigh. It was late, really late, past 1am the last time he checked, and the weight of the alcohol in his system begged him to find his way to bed. But the soft, barely audible, breaths of the lady behind him reminded Jason he still had a task ahead: getting you to his apartment.

As a strong wind blew past him, he zipped his jacket up, protecting himself from the unusually chilly night, for this time of the year at least, and turned on his heels to find you resting against the stony wall of the old structure, eyes narrowly managing to remain open. You felt the weather as much as he did, hugging yourself to acquire some type of warmth despite your inappropriate attire.

Carefully, he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs. Jason’s building was old, but well maintained. Meaning, it looked decent for all the decades it’d been through, but didn’t have an elevator casting on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason) the curse to climb all the way up every single day.

Already struggling due to the alcohol and tiredness, halfway through your journey you let out a moan without realizing. Your pace grew slower, and you lacked the effort to simply lift your legs and place your foot on the next step.

“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” Jason said, pausing right behind you. He had to hold his laugh as you turned back to face him, eyes watery and lips sticking out in a pout.

“Why didn’t we use the elevator? Do you hate me?” you cried.

“Not everyone has daddy’s money to afford an apartment with an elevator,” he joked, but your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness.

“I’m not… I…” you tried to mumble out, but failed countless times. “My feet hurt!”

Sighing deeply once more, he pushed you up by your waist, hands placed safely around you but alway mindful of its position. As you reached the next floor, you thanked your slow mind tonight for not allowing a scream to leave your mouth when Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment.

You had to say, it should’ve surprised you that he carried you with what seemed like a total lack of effort on his part, like you weighed nothing. However, you knew him. You knew he spent countless hours training at the gym, to the point you often wondered if he didn’t live there as well. That he’d often pass you carrying up to eight different weight plates in one single trip to use in his next exercise.

It did surprise you he could carry you. It surprised you he actually did it.

On his arm, the sweet coconut smell reached your nose, and you had to hold yourself from feeling sick. The alcohol was doing its job on you, and gosh you hated it. Tiredness taking over, you rested your head on his shoulder and fought against yourself to keep your eyes open.

“How much do you lift?” you mumbled a question, poking the bicep within your reach. You felt his breath hit your skin as he let out a soft chuckle.

“A lot more than you weight.” he stated, and continued his climb silently until you two were inside his deliciously warm and scrupulously tidy apartment. “Come,” he called after you when your feet were back on the ground. You followed him through the darkened living room until he opened a door and turned the light on in his bedroom. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the sofa.”

Your polite and sober side wanted to complain, to offer to sleep on the sofa instead, but your drunk and seriously exhausted one just wanted to throw yourself on the bed. Accepting the drunk side’s victory, you sat down with a noise and laid on his bed, eyes closing soon after, but being forced to open as you felt the mattress sink right beside you.

Struggling to lift your head, you found Jason bent down to catch your feet, loosening the laces of your converse and helping you take them off. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as you sat up again and started to unhook your bra from beneath your shirt.

Jason got nervous, eyes quickly shifting from you to the floor, not knowing what to do. Pulling your bra off through one of your sleeves, he took it as his key to leave you alone before you could start stripping off your pants too. Standing up, he reached the bedroom door just as you were climbing under the duvet, head laying on the pillow with eyes already closed.

He knew that, in your state, it wouldn’t be long before you were in deep slumber. So, turning off the lights, peeking at you one last time, he closed the door behind him. Careful to not make any noise. Careful not to wake you up. Unaware of the smile gracing his lips.

It’d been well over an hour since you had fallen asleep. The darkness still loomed outside, but the dim lighting of Jason’s side table lamp illuminated his living room, casting a shadow upon his body.

Jason couldn’t fall asleep, for some reason. He had tried lying down and forcing his eyes closed, had tried listening to whale sounds, rain sounds, brown, blue, black, white, purple noises. Nothing. Nothing seemed to put him to bed, not even his half drunk state.

So, feeling exhausted, he stood up from the sofa and went to the small kitchen to make himself some tea, hoping it would help him give in to sleep. He tried to be quiet, mindful of his guest still sleeping in his bed, filled his red mug with the tea and returned to the sofa, sitting beside his also sleeping kitten, whose snores were too loud for a beast of his size.

The drink was warm, and the taste pleased him just enough. He immediately felt more relaxed, letting the warmth fill his entire body, as he laid back onto the sofa and he could really feel like he was starting to rest.

On the other hand, you woke up confused. It was dark, and the pillows were comfortable, but they didn’t smell like your soap, nor did you find your childhood plush toy just within reach on your bed. Suddenly sober, you almost jumped off the bed before the memories started flooding your mind.

Shit. You definitely weren’t home, and this home certainly wasn’t from someone you wished it was. Slowly, you remembered Jason helping you take your shoes off, remembered him helping you up the infinite stairs of his building. And gosh, you remembered his damned smirk while he flirted with you.

You were pissed. P-i-s-s-e-d. Pissed. Why did you do that, Yn? Why did you end up here? Where the fuck did Nessie go to and why didn’t you go home?

In the darkness, you felt your feet touch the cold wooden tiles and you had to bring them back up quickly, not expecting the chilly night weather, but soon remembering how cold you’d felt just before coming to his apartment.

Your bare legs were feeling it too, and you struggled to find your pair of jeans. It wasn’t anywhere, goddamn it. There was no way you’d go out in only your shirt. You had to find something, and remembering you were in a 6 foot tall monster, you knew he ought to have something around.

Blindly skirmishing through the room, you felt the soft cotton fabric of what seemed to be a hoodie and put it on. It fit largely on you, the hem falling on the middle of your thighs, and the strong smell of perfume lingering from it.

With light footsteps, you got to the door. Twisting the handle with care, you heard the cracking sound of the door as you opened it, exposing the dimly lit living room. Jason heard the same cracking sound you did, his head jolting back so fast he felt the muscles on his neck aching.

There you were, hidden behind the door, a string of light illuminating your shape. You still looked sleepy, your cheeks puffed, and the minimum makeup you wore looked smashed on your face. But then, his eyes fell on your body, how your legs were bare and you somehow wore his favorite red hoodie.

Wow. Just, wow!

“Hey” he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, voice tinged by worry.

“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eyes for a brief while. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you returned your eyes to the floor, the tiling giving you more comfort. “I just… woke up.”

An awkward silence fell before you, neither brave enough to look at the other. The air was warm, you didn’t know if it was a sudden weather change or if it was the lingering tension between you two.

“I,” you started, and he immediately looked at you. “I think I’m gonna head home.” you announce, trying to return to the safety of his bedroom.

“No way,” he denied. “It’s almost 4am, Yn. There’s no way I’m letting you out this late. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Sighing, you accepted defeat without even trying to counter argue, aware his decision was well intended, and you too didn’t feel like facing the gloomy and dangerous streets of Gotham at this hour of the night. So, you just nodded, looking back into the room without moving your feet.

“Can I give you something?” he then questioned. “I mean. Do you want anything? Food, water?” Like clockwork, your stomach roared, making your cheeks go red and a smirk to appear on Jason’s face. “I don’t have much in my pantry, but I can make you a sandwich.”

Standing up, he walked to the kitchen once again, mug in hand being left on the sink. He seemed to move around the small area seamlessly, his bigger size never slowing him down. He opened cabinets, taking out of it a couple of dishes and a bag with a long and crusty baguette. Slicing the bread in half and then open, he set it on the plates, spreading butter on top and fishing for the other ingredients from various parts of the kitchen.

“I’m not a chef, you know,” Jason told you while he fished for the cheese, the ham, the vegetables and something else from the fridge. In normal human arms, they’d probably have fallen due the lack of space, but they all seemed to fit in pretty well in his much larger ones. “But I do enjoy cooking sometimes.”

His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it, you thought, watching the scene unfold from the same spot under the doorframe you were not even two minutes before. He was swift, picking things up and down , left and right, with ease and started constructing a delicious looking late night meal.

With watchful steps, you walked closer, something in you wanting to watch him in action from up close. Too enticed by the way he moved, the way he meticulously cut the tomatoes, a green vegetable, that you didn’t recognize due to your total lack of cooking skills, and the garlic before shoving them on a blender. The noise that proceeded, a disturbance of the silence that reigned on the night, but when it ceased, the smell that spread across the room seemed all worth it.

Continuing his craft, he was swift, picking things up and down with ease, spreading butter on the bread, adding cheese, sliced turkey from the smell of it, and the tomatoes. He grilled it on a pan he had started to heat while he assembled your snacks, and shortly after, placed a plate with the sandwich in front of you on the kitchen island.

“I didn’t know if you liked pesto, so I left it here for you to dip in if you want.” he stated, placing a small bowl with the green sauce he’d blended together earlier.

“Wow,” was all you could manage to say, the sandwich’s look worthy of those pins you’d constantly save on Pintrest but never make it yourself. Picking it up with one hand, you wanted to try it first on its own, your stomach getting louder, apparently aware you were just about to fill it and getting anxious over the masterpiece crafted just before your eyes. “Hmmm,” you hummed loudly, closing your eyes and enjoying the taste, your mouth already watering for one more bite.

You heard Jason’s breathy laugh, and your attention was instantly brought back to him. Supported by his elbows on the marble island, he sat beside you, his side profile a beautiful view from where you stood. He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one. One that didn’t drive you insane.

Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry. But you wouldn’t, instead, opting to do the sanest thing anyone could do in your position.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his eyes darting to yours and his eyebrows doing their annoying move and lifting up in question. “For everything. Tonight, especially, but at the hospital too. You were really kind and you didn’t have to do either of those things. So, thank you, really.”

A smile you could not decipher clouded his lips, and his eyes shone with a glint of mischievousness you could not mistake. “Say it again?” he joked, and you had to roll your eyes.

“Jerk.”

“Sounds more like you,” he sneered, finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. He dipped it in the sauce, taking another bite, and you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed. “But you don’t need to thank me. I hurt you that day and it was the polite thing to do. And I couldn’t just leave you drunk at the party, it didn’t seem right.”

“Why not?” you questioned. “There were many other drunk girls at the party.”

“Yeah, but none of them looked like they didn’t belong there,” he stated, soon regretting letting those words out of his lips. He knew it’d bring out more questions, and he didn’t want to spend his night explaining how you would linger in his head on a daily basis.

“Why not?” If Jason wasn’t so tired, he’d notice you’d felt insulted.

“I don’t mean today,” he said, playing with the sauce with his sandwich. “You were having fun today, but I’ve seen you before…”

“Why?” you insisted impatiently.

“Because people go to parties for either or two things: to have fun with their friends or to find a hookup,” he lifted two of his long fingers to you. “That day, you were clearly alone. You stood to the side all night, not talking to anyone, almost barking at whoever came closer. Option one impossible. And you also weren’t exposing too much skin to fit into the other.”

“I was having fun tonight!” you tried to argue.

“Yeah, but your friend had disappeared. And you were too drunk. I couldn’t leave you there, alone to the wolves,” he concluded, staring deep into your eyes. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

He seemed honest. And nice. Actually nice, like, he looked like a decent person, not the one you villainized in your thoughts every day. He was nice, a sweetheart, and a great cook if his sandwich was any indication of what else he could do in a kitchen. It wasn’t supposed to, but it only made you madder at him. You wanted to punch his face while also giving him a kiss. Stop it, Yn, don’t go that far.

You were quiet, not knowing what else to say. Jason decided on not speaking too, buried in his own thoughts, afraid he’d let too much out. Finishing your food, you dipped the bread into the pesto when the intrusive thoughts came over, and for once, you let them win.

“No…” Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case.

It took all your strength to keep his arms away, your laughter, louder than it had been in a long while, making the job much more difficult. “Jason,” you screamed when he got too close for your liking, but you managed to hold his hand and, to his surprise, took one bite of his weapon.

You really couldn’t stop laughing. Tears formed in your eyes from it, and all Jason could do was shake his head and finish the last bite of his sandwich you’d left for him. He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds. It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose.

He waited till you calmed down, taking deep breaths to steady it. Then, you stretched your arms to grab a towel opposite of you on the islands, cleaning your hands before looking back at him. “Here,” you called.

His heart stopped. Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek. Jason had never seen you from this close, every detail exposed to him. The way you sucked in your cheeks in concentration, as you cleaned his face, your soft touch barely brushing his skin, aware not to give him any type of skin irritation.

From this close, he could get a better glimpse of your lips. How they were plumb from you biting on it, how reddish they were, how soft they looked. He watched them as the tip of your smile briefly lifted up. And then, watched your tongue leaving them wet.

You were aware of closeness too. But you had committed to cleaning the stain, you couldn’t show him any weakness now. Pulling away slowly, you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips, setting your stomach in a spiral. He bit his lips, lifting his eyes to look at yours through his lashes, and your heart nearly stopped. Your breath hitched, and you had to look away.

“Hmm,” you started, avoiding his gaze and himself entirely. “I think I’ll go back to bed, it’s late.”

Something inside Jason dropped, and he felt a weight in his chest. You stood up quickly, and walked back into the bedroom without looking back. Fuck, he wanted to scream, but he had to contain himself. So, he stood up, set the plates on the sink and made his way back to the sofa. The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk.

Resting against the door as you closed it, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart raced, wanting to break free from your chest, and you felt the warmth rising from within you. Your legs trembled a little, and your mind flew to things you did not wish to think of right now.

You couldn’t give in. You couldn’t. Jason meant trouble, and trouble meant bad things. You couldn’t let yourself fall for it again. You couldn’t invite trouble in, even if it looked as pleasing as he did. He was nice to you tonight because he was polite, but you knew his type well and knew it never ended well. He was just like the others, he’s not perfect, stop it!

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts, and as if caught doing something bad, you were quick to react to opening it.

“Can I just get some clothes?” Jason asked, heading poking inside. “I just don’t want to sleep in the same clothes from the party.”

Giving him space, you allowed him in. He gave you a weak smile as he pass you, going in the direction of his closet. He indeed was wearing the same outfit from earlier, jeans, and a white shirt you could notice had some green stains on it. Karma.

“I’ve noticed you found my hoodie,” he pointed out while fishing for his pajamas, making your cheeks burn red. You went to apologize, but he was quicker to continue. “You can keep it, if it makes you comfortable.”

He turned back to face you, and you offered him a smile in gratitude. Suddenly mindful of your exposed legs, you tried to hide it with your hands, but you noticed how it only got his attention in that direction. He was about to leave when something made him stop.

“I need a blanket,” he said, running back to the closet. “Just a minute.”Jason was tall, but he seemingly was part of the crew who would hide their blankets on the tallest shelves, so tall that even he couldn’t reach properly. He stretched his arms up, the heels of his feet not touching the floor, and his shirt lifted up just a little. A treat for a very tired Yn to enjoy.

From your position, you caught a sight of his stomach up to his belly button. The toned muscles on the base of his abs made a perfect V shape, pointing downwards to a place you avoided imagining. A few of his tattoos peeked in and out of view as he moved, decorating his skin in drawings you could hardly identify. The thin line of hair going down the cherry on top of this tempting monstrosity.

Through his white t-shirt, you spotted the silhouette of his back muscles. Well defined, well designed, strong enough to carry two of you up the stairs, and wide enough making it the perfect canvas to be painted by your nails.

You knew your mind was traveling through a very dangerous territory. You knew where it was going. You knew the consequences, yet you wanted it. You wanted the danger, you wanted the consequence. Just this once. Just this once you wanted the bad, the naughty, the dangerous. You wanted Jason. You wanted him. You wanted him.

Fuck, you wanted to scream. Run at him, kiss him. Kiss up the hair line on his stomach, up his abs, his chest. Damn it!

You didn’t notice him moving, wishing you a good night, walking to the door. You didn’t notice any of it. Didn’t notice his intoxicating smell leaving the room, because you knew your mind could make it up pretty quickly. Filling your nose with his inexistent scent. His shadow looming around you, with you at all times.

“Yn,” he broke you from your thoughts. He was worried. You stood still before the bed, not moving since he walked past you, not even your eyes following him along, or moving somewhere else. He’d called you before, but you hadn’t noticed. “Are you alright?”

He’d walked back in, closer to you. Approaching you worriedly, your breathing heavy, eyes now lingering on him. He couldn’t decipher them. They were darker, darker than he’d ever seen them. They hid something, something he couldn’t figure out.

“Yeah,” you breathed out a reply. “I’m fine,” you confirmed, arm extending to touch his chest. Jason’s breath got caught on his throat, and when he looked back at you, he found your eyes, and finally could decipher them. “I’m really fine.”

Sliding your hands from his chest up to his neck, you brought him closer, slamming your lips against his. A shiver climbed up your spine as you felt his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, and yours soon fought with him for dominance.

You couldn’t explain it. It just fit. He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body.

His hands roamed your skin. Squeezing your ass, caressing your back from underneath his hoodie. The feeling of his hands around you waking the little hairs on your body wherever they touched, leaving behind a burning sensation, a need for more of his touch all over body.

Stumbling, you two took a few footsteps backwards, feeling the ends of the bed hit your calves. He carefully lowered you on top of it, not breaking your kiss until you were left out of breath. When you two finally broke apart, he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, exposing you to the tattoos you’d had a hard time identifying earlier.

An angel falling graced his left ribs, while something was written underneath his right boob. Overwall, you couldn’t count how many were there, you just knew they made him sexier and your cunt ache harder for him. Lifting yourself up a little, you pulled him back to you by the hem of his jeans, your mouths meeting soon after, afraid that if you had too much time to think about it, your mind would force you to stop whatever the hell this was.

On top of you, lips glued to yours, Jason started grinding his crotch against your clothed core, feeling his hardness through the harsh fabric of his jeans and only eliciting your arousal. Trapping your legs around his waist, you bent your back so you could reach him further, grinding yourself against him in a clothed love making session.

You wanted more. You need more. Desperately wanting him in. It was a wild, primal feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in ages. Or ever at all. You needed him, like you needed air. You needed his tongue all over you, not just on your lips or occasionally traveling to your neck.

His hands slid underneath your shirt, and he broke the kiss to ask you for permission to take it off. His eyes looked at you with a mix of lust and something else, something softer. With a nod, he swiftly had both your shirt and his hoodie thrown off somewhere in his bedroom.

You didn’t want to waste more time, sliding your underwear off too as soon as your breasts were freed, finding yourself fully exposed to the guy that just a few hours ago you would rather find dead than in his bed.

Seeing you rush your underwear off, Jason had to stop and admire. Admire your body and all your curves. Your bare chest, your hard nipples, a sight Jason wanted pictured in his mind forever.

He wanted to remember how your excitement dripped off your thighs, its smell reaching his nose, intoxicating him. Driving him crazier for you than he already was. He really wanted to rip his pants off and fuck you right then and there. Slam his dick into you until he had you screaming out his name for the whole neighborhood to hear. But he also wanted to devour you little by little, taste every corner of your skin.

Pulling you closer from under the knee, he spread you open and fell on top of you again, resuming the action on your lips before moving his kisses down your neck and to your chest. He made sure to leave marks wherever he’d go. He made sure to bite, to suck on your skin until little red and purple stains decorated you instead of your shirt.

His hand, once holding tightly at your waist, found its way down too. Sliding to your arousal, he felt his fingers drench wet as they reached your soaked pussy. Finding you like that, so wet from just his kisses and touches, boosted his ego, giving him extra confidence he could do to you whatever he wanted.

Pushing one finger into you, he felt your body jolt up. He laughed against your skin as his mouth finally found its way to your breasts. He fucked you with one finger while sucking harshly at your nipples. You moaned loud, already feeling a tightness forming on your belly, that sweet but painful sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.

When he pushed another finger inside of you, speeding up his movements in and out while his thumb managed to somehow rub at your clit till it ached, it didn’t take long for you to see black spots in your sight. It did take long for your back to arch up, a muffled scream leaving your lung.

Nibbling at your nipple still, Jason took your moans and screams as motivation. He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with, mocking your petite, fragile frame underneath him. Slapping your cunt, he moved his mouth to quickly play with your neglected boob before his tongue drew a line from between your breasts to the entrance to your core.

You could already feel your breath leaving your lungs, your mind half numb from your orgasm and tiredness. His breath hit your folds, as he pecked his way down to your entrance, licking from your ass to your clit, as you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your screams.

Like a thirsty dog, Jason licked you up and down between your lower lips. His whole mouth stuffed on your vagina, enjoying your sweet taste filling his taste buds. You squirmed from the sensasion, so much he had to pin you down with his strong arms. You tried to push his head away, tug on his hair, anything to make him stop, already aching down there. But it also felt good, and you could feel another orgasm growing inside you.

However, he removed his face from your cunt as soon as he felt you were about to come. He was enjoying torturing you, making you weak to his touch. He wasn’t going to give in much easier, but he also needed to feel you. Feel you around him, sucking him dry till he himself was left just a moaning mess.

Fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants, he managed them down his legs, pulling with them his boxers, letting his hard penis hit against his stomach. You let out a gasp when you saw his erection, already knowing it was going to hurt but be so worth it. He was thick, probably the size of your hands around it, and just long enough.

Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought.

“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, hands reach to touch his dick. “Please, fuck me.”

“Fuuuck,” he let out a loud and prolonged groan, forgetting everything and placing himself at your entrance. He pushed the tip in, getting a painful moan out of you. You were tight, but he was going to make himself fit.

Collecting your juices, he rubbed it along his shaft, pressing himself in ever so slowly. As he entered, you molded yourself perfectly around him, taking him in entirely eventually. He let you adjust, allowing you to get used to his size. Lowering down, he pulled you into another kiss. This time, deeper, slower, hotter.

He started with slow thrusts, moving out entirely before placing himself back in. You moaned and your body jumped every time he moved. His low groans on your ear making you wetter, and his speed started to pick up.

The sound of skin hitting skin getting louder, filling the room along the strong smell of your sinful act. The bed creaked and hit against the wall along with Jason’s thrusts. He started to gain more and more speed, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder.

He modded as the action gave him more access to your cunt, speed going so fast your boobs bounced up and down vigorously. With the spare had the wasn’t holding your leg up, he reached for your clit and your moans only got louder, screaming Jason’s name like a fucking prayer. Begging for release.

He’d sobered up from the party a long time ago, but he was getting drunk on the sight of your glistening skin, coated in sweat, screaming his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Not rolling out of anger, or annoyance. But because he was making you feel so fucking good you couldn’t control yourself anymore.

Jason felt like a king. Total control over you as you felt your mind go numb, drunk on his cock, drunk on the sensation he was giving you. He moved his hips harshly, slamming against your wet core like a MMA fighter fights his opponent. He felt the growing knot on his abdomen, speeding his thumb’s movements, wanting you to cum along with him.

A few more thrusts had you screaming so loud Jason had to put his hands over your mouth to shut you up, afraid his neighbors wouldn’t enjoy your fucked up symphony. He felt your release hitting his cock and he too released inside of you, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking his ball dry of any cum he had to offer.

The room was now filled with groans and heavy breaths. The air was thick and warm, and the smell of sex sticking to every corner. He pulled out, watching you juices mixed up and dripping off your pussy. Sticking a finger inside, he took some of you mixed orgasm and put it on his tongue. He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together.

When you pulled away, begging for air, he had his forehead rested on yours. His eyes were closed, and his hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. Something you’d seen many times at the gym, now got a completely new meaning to you. One you enjoyed a lot more, seeing and making it happen.

You too closed your eyes, tiredness weighing your lashes down, as you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck. Soon falling into slumber, a delicious ache on your core, as the dream world quickly took over you.

It wasn’t until hours later that the bright sun beams hit your eyes, or the loud noises of Gotham’s traffic found your ears. Eyes taking too long to open, as you woke up more tired than usual. Your body ached in pain, every muscle seemingly sore, but you didn’t remember going to the gym yesterday.

You only remembered you had to work and ended up getting drunk at a party. You remembered getting mad at your parents and deciding you had to release all your anger doing something they’d despise. You remembered your gym enemy taking you home. To his or mine? You wondered, eyes finally opening to the unknown bedroom.

Fuck. Looking behind you, you found Jason’s body spread on the same bed you now laid, and you quickly became aware of your own lack of an outfit. No, no, no. You went too far. You were just supposed to get drunk at a party, not fuck a stranger, Yn. Not fuck fucking Jason!

Carefully removing the duvet off of you, you slipped out of bed and fished for your clothes around his bedroom. Your shirt was tangled on his hoodie you had worn last night, and your panties were thrown on the other side of it. Your bra rested on the bedside table on Jason’s side of the bed, while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair.

You tried to be quiet, to put your clothes back on without making any noise. But your own constant shits and fucks didn’t help your case, and as you buttoned your jeans you heard shuffling on the bed. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. “Yn? What are you…”

“THIS IS FUCKED UP!” you screamed, his eyes jolting open at your reaction. “We shouldn’t have done this, Jason.”

“Woah, I didn’t do it alone.” he replied, feeling annoyed at the tone you’d been treating this interaction with.

“We shouldn’t. We…” you wanted to cry, pissed off you’d let yourself sleep with him of all people. Taking your shoes, you rushed out of the room, wanting all of this to be just a silly little memory of a silly little moment when you had lost control.

Opening the door to the living room, you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame.

“Yn!” Jason screamed after you, but your feet never ceased, and you ran down the stairs. Eyes only jumping up to find him as he stood by the door. The towel you’d cleaned his cheeks with hardly managing to hide his groin. The last sight you got of him haunting you for the days that followed. His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @erochuu ; @jasontoddslover ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @starcrossedtrek ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin ; @willieoo

if you want to be added to the tag list, leave a message down below!

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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ghostfacesvalentine · 1 year

Text

Best sleep (Jason Todd x Sleepy!Reader)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader, tried to be as GN as possible though!

Warnings: Not many, just a tiny mention of violence, but nothing graphic.

Type: Blurb/Hc

Request: N/A

Word Count: N/A

Prompt: Jason Todd is obsessed with you, specifically with the idea of you waiting for him to come home.

Notes: Shut up, this is a mixture of a blurb and hc I think. Idk, I’m tired but Jason on m y min d.

- To say Jason was obsessed was an understatement. You were constantly on his mind, since the first day he saw you struggling to walk straight on your way home from the bar.

- From that day on, he was dedicated entirely to you. Even though he didn’t notice it at first, as he’s beating goons to a pulp in broad moonlight, wiping the blood and sweat from his face, he finds himself wondering what you’re doing.

- No matter what he’s doing, Jason finds the time to call you, make sure that you’re okay and tells you that he’d be home soon.

- It’s the best part of his day, running home to see how you’re doing. You try your best to stay up to greet him with a sleepy smile and happy eyes. More often than not, Jason has to hold your face in his hands to keep your face from falling, drifting in and out of sleep.

- So cute.

- Other times, he finds you on the couch, with a tiny pink blanket draped loosely around your frame, watching your favorite sappy film. You were probably pretending the main characters were you two, yearning for Jason to squeeze you in his arms and tell you that he loves you more than anything.

- Jason refuses to let you sleep on the couch, knowing it’s uncomfortable after some time. Picking you up as you did your best to keep your eyes open longer than a blinks worth. “Hmm?” Would be all you could fathom out.

- Warm lips would press against your head in response to your mumbles, your body would relax against the plush mattress when Jason would set you down. You always looked so sweet, but something was so irresistible about you trying your hardest to stay up to wait for him, then failing.

- Sometimes you’d try to stay up just to spend more time with him, but you just couldn’t. You’d sit on the couch or on the stool that sat before the bar stool in your kitchen, then plop, there went your head.

- A snort would escape Jason’s lips, quickly being replaced by an “aw” Knitted eyebrows and a gentle touch. “Come on, I’ll be there soon. I’m home at least” He’d do his best to convince you, it wasn’t like you were putting up much of a fight anyway.

-Those rare nights you managed to stay up until 3/4 a.m. he’d drop everything to snuggle.

- Seeing you be so excited for him to come home or see him makes his heart skip like three beats. He doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, ready to feel your body meet his at full speed as soon as he gets the door open.

- Jason knows he just has to be home that same day, he has to make sure you’re okay. No amount of phone calls could satisfy him the way his skin has to touch yours just to be triple sure that you’re okay.

- It has to be a dire emergency for him to be gone more than one day,

- Like stated above, you’re constantly on his mind, He’s so in love.

- He’s entirely convinced that if he’s not by your side, you’re not safe. He’s not going to lose you, he can lose anything else, but not you.

- Jason loves you more than he’s loved anything, ever.

- He’d grab your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks tightly, with sleepy smiling eyes, you’d look back at him, just ecstatic that he’s home. “You’re not going anywhere sweet girl/boy” He’d assure you, only to get a tired mumble in return. Either way, you bring a smile to his face.

- Whatever time it was, he’d leave you to lay on the bed while he got ready to sleep next to you. Fixing himself a snack on some days, going straight to the showers on others, always ending up with you pressed into his frame, arms crossed in an “X” position to keep you locked into him.

- It was the best way he could sleep.

- All you knew is that this felt way better than a weighted plushie or weighted blanket and that you could finally rest comfortably.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x Reader #Jason Todd Imagine #Jason Todd one shot #Jason Todd HC #Jason Todd blurb

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wildemaven · 1 year

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The Secrets We Keep…

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

WC: 5284

Warnings: 18+; self doubt, asshole friend, cheating, divorce, failed engagement, food and alcohol, hotel hookups, hot and heavy make out session, a little angst I think, secretly in love with friend’s husband, I think that’s it.

A/N: This has been sitting for so long! I’m glad to finally get this off my WIP list! I struggled through some parts of this so I hope it flows well!! I feel like Dave is misunderstood and just wants to be loved, so this is me trying to give him that… Anyways hope you enjoy! Likes, Comments and Reblogs are appreciated, helps me know you enjoy and helps me to stay motivated so I can write more.

Shout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey getting me in my Dave feels and talking through this with me!!

Masterlist / Main

“I’m going to tell him tonight!” You told the reflection looking back at you.

You give yourself a once over in the mirror, admiring the way the black dress drapes over your body, the way it hugged every inch of you. This slip dress was outside your realm of comfort, especially for tonight. You lived in well-worn jeans and buttery soft t-shirts outside of your 9-5 work attire, sandals or sneakers depending on the weather-- You chose comfort over dressing up 90% of the time.

But tonight you decided to throw caution to the wind, opting for something on the sexier side in hopes for a little confidence boost. The dress, simple jewelry and strappy heels were definitely doing it for you in this very moment. Taking one last spin, your phone vibrates on our dresser. Noting the time, you already know who it is—your longtime friend Carol.

*Ding*

Carol: Are you on your way yet?? The sooner I can get out of here the better!!

*Ding*

Carol: Dave is hovering and it’s pathetic

You were already dreading tonight and it hadn’t even begun.

*Ding*

Carol: I need a drink! The sooner the better!

You: Hi! Sorry!! I got sidetracked picking an outfit, but settled on the 5th option I tried on! Just grabbing my purse and heading out the door. Be there in 15!!

Carol. Carol York.

Your longtime friend of many years. You’d met when you both attended the same college in this very town. Both graduating at the same time and starting your careers together. You considered her one of your closest friends. You’d both had gotten engaged around the same time too. Her to Dave, who you always found to be very reserved but polite—could be his government job. And you to Jason… Jason who worked in accounting and loved to crunch numbers at all hours of the day— thrilling.

But as the years went on it was apparent that Carol didn’t value the friendship you shared as much as you had.

The digs were what you first started to pick up on throughout the years— the backhanded compliments, at your expense. Always pointing out things she thought you could fix about yourself— “You shouldn’t wear your hair like that, it’s not flattering” “I don’t know why you keep wearing that color, it horrible” “Why do you always just stand there when we go out? You would probably have more friends if you actually talked to other people”

You always brushed them off as Carol’s way of being a “good friend”, and as years went on you found yourself believing most of what she said too. She wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true… right??

When your engagement to Jason ended, Carol was there for you— sort of.

She and Dave had been married for a year when you and Jason had called it quits, deciding you were better off as friends and not romantically.

While you weren’t that heartbroken over the break-up, you still wanted your friend to lean on as you began to navigate through this new chapter of your life. Carol let you sulk for about 2 days before she was letting you know everything you could have done better and why Jason was better off. And once again, you took her harshness as just being a good friend—because that’s what good friends do… right??

It wasn’t until the affair began did you start to look at Carol differently.

Her and Dave had always seemed rock solid in their marriage. You never heard about fights or disagreements. Carol never complained about him outside of the normal annoyances. Dave was always the outstanding husband everyone adored. And while he was ever the dutiful husband, he was equally handsome. Carol knew women looked at him too. But that wasn’t enough for her. He wasn’t enough for her.

She met Glenn through work, you assumed some young intern wanting work his way up in the ranks. Carol kept it hidden as much as she could. But as they got more serious, the quick fucks in the office weren’t sufficient for them. So Carol had to think quick on her feet, come up with something that could get her more time with Glen.

In comes Girl’s Night.

Who would suspect anyone would be cheating, if they were meeting with their dear friend every Wednesday for a regular Girl’s Night? That’s how you found yourself getting thrown into this mess of a situation. Carol confided in you about the affair, said she was bored to death with Dave and needed something more exciting in her life— a complete shock to you. You had tried to tell her to just explain to Dave where she was coming from, maybe they could seek counseling to try and mend whatever Carol thought was lacking.

But Carol wouldn’t budge.

You became third wheel to her extra-curricular marital activities. Picking her up every Wednesday and driving to the fancy hotel across town where she would meet up with Glenn at the room he booked for them weekly. You would sit at the bar in the lobby for close to an hour by yourself, wishing you were literally anywhere else but there.

You felt icky letting this carry on for as long as it did—almost as if you were the one doing the cheating too. You didn’t deserve to be put in this position.

Dave doesn’t deserve this! I have to say something. I can’t be a part of this anymore! You thought to yourself as you drove the few blocks it took to get to their lovely two-story home. He deserved to know who his wife was and how she was when he wasn’t around.

Dave was a great guy. Always attentive to Carol and her lavish ways. Her wanting to look the part of the successful wife. Top name brand clothes and accessories, top of the line cars and dinners at the fanciest restaurants for no special occasion other than to just be seen. Dave just let her be, never complaining or showing any sort of annoyance at her ridiculous behavior.

Dave was the perfect husband if you were being brutally honest. And perfectly handsome. His dark locks were always brushed just right, never out of place. His eyes, while dark in color, held so much lightness to them—especially when he smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Your gaze instinctually would gravitate towards him without even realizing it sometimes. Imagining what it would be like to have someone as dreamy as Dave was.

You had even imagined what it would be like if it was you who Dave came home to every night. How you would take care of him—preparing his favorite meals, making sure he had a few snacks tucked away in his briefcase just in case there wasn’t time for lunch. Dave was worthy of being taken care of everyday. But this wasn’t reality.

Reality was Dave is married to your friend who doesn’t love him the way that you could—the way that you deeply wanted to.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you pulled up to their home. Checking yourself in the mirror once more before making your way up to their front door.

You knocked several times, waiting on the front step, hoping it would be Carol to open the door. You weren’t sure you could see Dave in this very moment. You wanted to wait until after you dropped Carol off at home, knowing she would be indulging in a few drinks too many and wouldn’t be up for conversation once she was safely home for the evening.

The creak of the door opening pulls you from your thoughts, and staring back at you is Dave. Dave in his grey fitted work slacks, baby blue dress shirt with its sleeves rolled up exposing his beautiful taut forearms. Your breath hitches in surprise, trying your best to conceal any sort of desire you have for this man.

“Hi..” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, no words needed to convey the look of desire he tried so hard to make look less than obvious.

“Hi Dave. I.. umm.. Is Carol ready??” The words manage to fumble from your mouth. The look he’s giving you is hard to read but it’s enough to send a yearning want through your body.

“Yes…Yeah! She said she would be down in just a second. Just finishing up. Would you like to come in and wait? I can get you a drink??” Pulling the door open and motioning for you to come in. He seems nervous too.

“Thank you, but I’m good. I don’t plan on drinking tonight but I appreciate the offer.” Stepping through the door and planting yourself in their entryway.

There’s a heaviness in the air as you both stand there in silence.

You avert your eyes as much as possible but you can’t help but look at the man standing before you, they way you’re so drawn to him as he stands there with his head down and hip out, hands resting on his narrow waist line.

The sound of Carol bounding down the stairs has you standing taller, hoping your awkwardness isn’t noticeable.

“Alright don’t wait up for me Dave. I’m sure we’ll be late like always.” Grabbing her purse off the stair railing and shoving her phone and wallet in to it.

“You’re wearing that?!” She points at you. Her expression shows distaste and a sense of jealousy if you had to guess.

You look down at yourself, embarrassment ticking the back of your neck. Looking up you see Dave staring at you, his face hard to read, he must agree with her and you wish you could crawl in a hole and hide away forever.

“Do I look bad?”

“Well it’s not the worst thing you’ve worn. But maybe this will the thing that catches someone’s attention finally.”

“Carol..” Dave’s eyebrows arch up at her comment, his jaw ticking to the side as Carol continues her onslaught of badgering, shifting his stance in the uncomfortableness that now surrounds the three of you.

“We’re late. Let’s go.” Clapping her hands together to announce her departure. Dave goes in for a kiss or a hug but is met with Carols retreating back as she makes her way to the car.

“Have a good night Dave. I’ll make sure she comes back in one piece.” You smile at him sweetly as you begin your journey to the car.

“Just so you know she was wrong. You look nice.”

You stop just before you’ve made it outside, turning to see Dave staring at you, his gaze has softened bit with Carol now out of earshot.

You can’t help but feel giddy at his comment, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at him.

“Thanks, Dave.”

You can feel your palms begin to sweat as you try to think of how to bring up the subject to Carol, knowing it won’t be received well.

You turn the volume of the radio down so you’re not competing for her attention.

“Carol, we need to talk. When are you going to tell Dave about the affair? You can’t keep this up forever. Just tell him you’re unhappy and I’m sure he’ll understand or something.”

“Ugh! Can we talk about anything but Dave.” Rolling her eyes and avoiding the topic all together.

“Carol I’m serious.” Your grip on the steering wheel tightening as you continue to question her. “This needs to end. And whether that’s you telling Dave you’re done and want a divorce or you stop this secrecy thing you’re doing and fix your marriage.”

You’re adrenaline is peaking and you can feel yourself questioning whether or not you’re doing the right thing.

“You couldn’t even keep a man long enough to get married, let alone keep an actual relationship— you think I’m going to take advice from you? Ha! That’s real fuckin’ rich coming from you.”

“This is the last time Carol. No more girls night out. No more me covering for you. I’m done— I don’t want to be a part of your lies any more.” Putting your car in park, finality dripping from your voice.

“What are you going to do, tell him yourself.” Swallowing the last bit of confidence you had as she continues. “You don’t think I see the way you look at Dave? That I don’t see the way you make eyes at my husband? You sound like a hypocrite.”

You can feel the heat as it spreads across your face. Are you as horrible as she is? You’d never act on your feelings towards Dave— he’s married, and he loves Carol. You would never involve yourself in someone’s marriage.

“Here, get yourself a drink or two, loosen up a bit. And while you’re at it, take out that stick you have lodge up your ass— might help you get laid.” Venom pouring from her mouth as she exits the car, tossing a few $20 bills on the seat before slamming the door shut.

The bartender keeps the drinks coming, Diet Coke on the rocks is as good as it’s going to get. You’ll pour yourself something stronger the minute you get home. You’re going to need it after tonight’s disastrous argument with Carol.

You’ve been sitting here nearing two hours now, an hour longer than normal and turning down several unwanted advances from inebriated hotel guests who clearly thought they were being slick as they slurred their words.

The bartender silently places another glass in front of you, a pity nod to your pathetic singleness. You’ll be sure to leave him a decent tip for the somewhat non-judgmental service.

A staggering figure heading your direction catches your attention. Carol being helped by who can only assume is Glen— you’d never met him prior to this evening, only been told of him by Carol.

You’re taken aback by him, he’s not what you expected at all. He’s short in stature, pointed features and what you can only assume is a poorly glued on hair piece.

Your brain trying to figure out the how and the what behind his appeal. He is everything Dave is not by appearance standards— you have to stop yourself from comparing this guy to Dave, he’s not yours.

Glen, who’s one bum hip away from an AARP subscription, is edging exhaustion as he tries his best to keep Carol upright as he tries to prop her up once they get to the bar.

Carol attempts to say something, but she is too far gone to make any sense.

“She finished two bottles of champagne, barely touched dinner so she’s a little drunk.” You’re already annoyed by his voice and you’d just met him.

He asks for your help and you both all but carry Carols half limp body to the passenger seat of your car.

Buckling her in, cause you still care for her safety, he mumbles some gross lovey nonsense to her and kisses her with his chapped crinkled lips. Thankfully they’re both unaware of how confused and semi-grossed out you are at their whole interaction.

“I’m Glen by the way.” Leaning further into the car extending his crepey hand over Carol to you in the driver’s seat.

You can smell the champagne on Carol’s breath, definitely smells expensive and nauseating, as she slurs through tries her best to introduce him to you, telling you how Glen is the CEO of her firm and how much money he has— it all making sense now.

You look at his hand then back up to his face. “So I’ve heard. Please close the door.”

He slinks out and closes the door as you start the car, promptly backing out of the space to set out on your drive back to the York’s home.

You were looking forward to washing this night off of you. Hoping a hot shower would strip away the guilt and shame of being an accomplice to Carol’s affair, as well as the what you can only assume the ending of your friendship.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting in Dave and Carol’s driveway. Carol’s snoring the soundtrack to you weighing the pros and cons of telling Dave.

Pros:

He wouldn’t have to suffer Carol’s charade of being the perfect couple to keep up with the Jones’

He wouldn’t have to deal with Carol being insufferable when she doesn’t get her way

He would be happy

Cons:

He might think you’re making things up to break up their marriage

He might tell you you’re meddling

He might hate you

The odds seem pretty even as your brain continues its spiral trying to convince yourself to just tell Dave the truth. The possibility of never seeing him again weighing heavily on your heart.

There’s a knock on your window and you nearly have a heart attack. Dave is bent down trying to get your attention, you’re not sure if he’d been standing there awhile or not.

You roll down your window, the cool air hitting your face, a slight chill creeping over your skin.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” You melt at the sight of his smile, he looks so happy when he does.

“She might have gotten a little carried away tonight.” Looking over at Carol still completely passed out, trying to decide what you should share about your evening.

“That’s okay. I can go ahead get her out.” He’s still looking at you, his gaze is enveloping and sincere. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

“Umm, yeah— sure. I’ll grab her purse for you.”

Some how Dave makes into the house with cradling her sleeping body, you following on his heels. Even in her drunken state, he’s still an attentive husband.

You set her purse down on the entry table and shuffle about, not really sure what to do with yourself. You’ve been here plenty of times but you all of a sudden feel like a stranger within these walls.

“Go ahead and help yourself to water or snacks if you’re hungry, just going to put Carol to bed and then I’ll be right down.” Looking down at you from the top of the stairs.

You admire his broad shoulders, his T-shirt pulled tight across them and his flexed biceps bulging as he carries his cheating wife to bed.

A drink of cold water was just what you needed to calm yourself down, now the glass sits heavy in your hand as you stand in the kitchen, trying to not let your mind wander off too much.

“Sorry about that. Got her all tucked in for the night. She’s going to hurt tomorrow.” Dave says as he enters the kitchen.

“Mhmmm..” Taking one last sip of water, your throat suddenly dry at the sight of him— a comfy relaxed t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans.

“Yeah…So, you ladies must have had a fun night then??”

You watch him move about the kitchen, grabbing dishes from varied spots on the counters and placing them in the sink.

“Yeah… W-we always have a great time.”

You place your now empty glass on the kitchen island in front of you, trying your best to sound as convincing as possible, but you’re not really sure he’s buying it when he only hums in response.

“I have some of that wine you love in the fridge if you want a glass?” He says pointing over to the fridge behind you as he settles up against the island counter next to you, actively trying to keep some distance between the two of you.

“I didn’t realize you like it too?”

“I— actually I don’t.” A nervous laugh huffs out of his chest, his hands settling in his pockets as he looks down at his feet for a few seconds, then back over to you. “You always bring it over and seemed to really enjoy drinking it. I keep a bottle, you just in case.”

“Oh..” His admission has you reeling.

Why would he go out of his way to do that for you? Carol doesn’t even like the wine, and you know this because she makes a point to tell you how cheap it is compared to the vintage Cabernet any chance she gets, which is usually in front of her other friends and colleagues.

And then it hits you like a ton of bricks out of no where, Dave has been more of a friend to you over the years than Carol ever has been. Always making sure you feel comfortable when he’s around and doing these small little things for you, like a normal friend would.

“Dave… There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?” His brows furrowed as he looks at you with concern.

“Umm, these Girl’s Nights aren’t really that…” You take a deep breath before you continue to share your truth. “Carol…” The words seem to get caught in your throat, but you decide it’s now or never. “Carol’s been having an affair with her boss. She came up with this weekly night out thing so she could meet up with him and I some how got caught up in it. I told her she needed to tell—“

“I know.” You think you hear him laugh as he says it.

“What? You know about the affair?!”

“Yeah. Known for awhile actually.”

“And you never said anything?!”

“I work for the government and she’s really not as subtle as she think she is. Plus I needed to quietly collect all the information to help my case when we go to court. Knowing Carol, she’ll try to twist everything.”

Your hands planted firmly on the countertop to hold yourself up as you process what he just told you. You don’t know if this is a relief that Dave knows, or makes you look even worse that you hadn’t said something sooner, your head spinning in circles.

“Wait! What do you mean when you go to court?” Your attention snapping back over to where he’s still standing.

“I filed for divorce last week. The paperwork is waiting for her on the nightstand next to the Advil and water she’ll need when she wakes up.”

You can’t help feel relieved and happy Dave knows but also a little sad that he now has to deal with this. Divorces can be messy and knowing Carol, she isn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m so sorry Dave. I should have told you sooner. I can’t believe I just let her think she could use me for her own gain.” Your head hangs down a bit, you wish you had stood up for yourself all those times Carol was anything but kind to you— but hindsight is always 20/20 as they say.

Dave must sense your emotions as he slowly places his hand on yours, his thumb drawing small delicate circles over your wrist.

Your eyes are glued to where his hand is, it’s warm and tender. The tiny movements have your heart pounding, you’re not sure if he realizes the effect it’s having on you.

“Hey..” He leans back a bit to get your attention back to him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, this isn’t your fault at all. Even with out the affair, I think this would still be our outcome.”

“What do you mean? You seemed so in love with her.”

“I mean, yeah, I do love her— did?” His jaw ticks to the side a bit, trying to gather his thoughts. “We’ve both been distant for awhile now. I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for a month— we’ve essentially been separated under the same roof.”

“Carol never said anything.”

“I’m sure she wanted everyone to still think she had this perfect life outside of these walls.”

“Doesn’t really seem fair to you.”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at you with a slight grin. “I could say the same about how she treats you.” And he’s right.

“You look really beautiful tonight.” His voice is shaky, his smile soft as he takes you in again. Pushing himself off the counter he inches closer until he’s standing directly behind you.

“Th-thank you.”

His fingers toying with yours as his firm chest meets your back, heat radiating from him as he cages you in.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, always wanted to tell you how beautiful you are.” His breath fanning hot against your ear. Your breathing heavy and rapid as he confesses his thoughts to you.

“Tell me to stop and I will…”

You turn so you’re facing him, your body giving in to what it has so desperately been craving, your hands seeking out more of him as they slide up his chest to his broad shoulders.

His eyes flitting up and down, your lips and eyes his main focus as he waits for a response.

“Don’t stop…please.” Ever.

It’s magnetic the way his lips collide into yours, a moment you’d only ever dreamed about in private, never thinking it would ever become your reality.

His strong hands work over your body, grabbing, pushing, pulling—taking advantage of having you this close to him.

Dave is a force, a heady mix of carnal desire and affection— a man starved of love.

The minute your lips part, his tongue is seeking out yours, heavy but sweet as he devours your mouth— you try your best to give him the same energy he’s pouring into you.

Your hips will themselves towards his, a slow deliberate grind against him, your fingers accentuating your need for more— and more he’s willing to give.

He pats your hip, signaling for you to hop on the counter, his hands grabbing the backs of your thighs helping you up.

A wet sensation has you nipples perking, Dave taking the weight of your breast in his mouth while he gently pinches and rolls your other nipple. The feeling of his warm mouth and the cool fabric of the dress against you sensitive skin elicits a small whimper, your head falling back and back arching into his touch.

“Dave..” You’re not even sure what you were going to say, your chest heaving and head clouded by lust. You’re putty at the hands of this man.

“Yeah, tell me—tell me what you want.” Kissing his every open space available to him— the top of your exposed chest all the way up your neck. His hands pushing your dress higher as he pushes your legs apart, prompting you to wrap them around him and pulling him in close.

“You. Always wanted you!”

A moan rips from his throat and he kissing you like he’s not sure if he’s ever going to again, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. Your own hands moving about, gripping his hair and caressing his face as your mouths work together.

Arousal thick and swarming, fueling the sexual fire that’s about to burn this fucking kitchen down.

At some point the reality of what is happening cracks through your brain and your body goes rigid— guilt washing over you like an ice cold bath.

Dave senses the shift in your demeanor and pulls away, brows pinched in concern as he tries to read your expression.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay— did I hurt you?” He’s breathless, his hair a mess from your doing, his lips full and he looks so beautiful in this post lustrous haze.

“N-no. I’m fine, I promise. I just— I can’t do this. I mean I want to, trust me I do. But it feels wrong.” You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh, leaning forward to rest your forehead on Dave’s. “You’re still technically married and I’m no better than Carol if we let this continue with where this was headed.”

You can feel Dave nod in agreement before he pulls away, a brief kiss to your temple before he’s helping you off the counter and righting your clothes.

Your heart sinks at how quiet he is when he walks you to your car, you’re not sure what to say or how to feel.

You want to kiss him one last time, fearing this is it for the both of you, but you opt for a hug instead. His arms holding you close, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in one last time.

“Good night Dave.” Emotions high but you do your best to keep them hidden until you’re in the safety of your car.

“Night.” A subtle nod to you as you approach your car.

The drive home is bleak, ending a long time friendship and then turning down the man you’ve been in love with can conjure up a lot of emotions.

Time will tell whether you made the right decision.

Several Months Later…

Your work life has been hectic to say the least. But it’s kept your mind busy following that evening at the York’s house.

You hadn’t heard from Carol since that night, and you can only assume she thinks you told Dave which prompted his filing for divorce.

You wish you could say you were sad to lose your friend, but the truth is you feel lighter with out her in your life. You didn’t realize how miserable you were and how much she had made you feel unworthy of so many things in your life.

It felt like a blessing in disguise.

Then there was Dave. You hadn’t seen him either since leaving his home. You’d replayed that evening in the kitchen over and over again, which made you long for more than you should have. You’d both let feelings get in the way of what was right, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t wish things were different.

You think of him often as you go about your days and hope he’s doing well.

“Hi, what can I get you.” The sweet barista asks as you walk up to the counter in your neighborhood coffee shop.

“I’ll take a Latte with an extra shot and an everything bagel, to go please.” You have a few meetings today, so you need as much energy as possible.

“That’ll be $10.50.”

You begin to dig out your wallet to pay, only to realize you’d forgotten your wallet at home on the counter where you were paying bills last night.

“Shit! I—I forgot my wallet at home. I’m sorry, you can cancel—“

“Here. You can add it to my order.” A stranger with an oddly familiar voice steps up and hands the barista his credit card. “I’ll take an Americano and the same bagel order.”

As you go to thank the man for the kind gesture, you realize that this stranger is not in fact a stranger.

“Dave?”

“Hey!” His smile seems brighter and more relaxed. “How are you?”

“I’m— I’ve been good. How have you been?” You stammer over your words a bit, he was the last person you were expecting to see this morning.

“Can’t complain really. Work is, work and being a single divorcee isn’t all that bad.”

“Hmm. Single?” You try to contain yourself, but you’re just slightly giddy at his singleness.

“Yeah. Officially for about a month.”

“Congratulations— I think.” That makes him laugh.

“Thanks. Hey, do you want to sit for a bit.” Pointing over to an open table. “If you have time, I don’t want to interrupt your day.”

You glance down at your watch, your first meeting isn’t for 2 hours. You smile, grateful for your scheduling for the day.

“Yeah. I have plenty of time.”

#Dave York #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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yonemurishiroku · 2 years

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When I say that Nico di Angelo, son of Aphrodite, would be devastatingly beautiful

Because he represents the other side of Love: the painful, distraughtful and ugly face that people try so hard to avoid. The other children of Aphrodite thrive in a blossoming romance, whereas Nico di Angelo builds his throne on thorns and wilted petals of a broken love.

No, he doesn’t make people fall in love with him. I wouldn’t call it attraction, more like being haunted. Nico’s presense carves itself into people’s minds the same way a tragedy does: it’s sad and it’s painful to watch, so much that you’re unable to forget. His sufferings paint his presence.

If I were to align this with what’s in canon, it’d be Percy’s guilt for being unable to reciprocate Nico’s feelings; the compassion and admiration Jason had for his sexuality struggles; the feel of forlonness coursing through Leo’s veins when he sees himself in Nico’s solitude; the sadness and terror engulfing others whenever they see a glimpse of his torments...

Each varies, but they would remain imprinted on those minds, deep and aching like an old scar. People cower when they thing of Nico, because he has gone through such horrible miseries in the name of Love and when they look at him, they fear for what may come.

And his existence is the proof that Love can be terrifying, agonizing, heart-wrenching----just as much as it’s beautiful and sweet.

What I’m trying to say is: Nico as a child of Aphrodite remains unforgetable in people’s minds not as an attraction, but more of an everlasting haunting obsession.

What he gives to people is a sense of apprehension - a reminder - for what may come with their feelings, their desires. It’s the fear of an unreciprocated passion. It’s the hurting pang of jealousy. It’s the grief for the loved one forever gone. It’s the guilt that comes after every mistake. It’s the hatred that spikes from a betrayal heartbreak. It’s the exhausting yet burning yearning that threatenes to consume you whole.

For they are, after all, what Love may bring.

And people are scared of them, so they are scared of him.

You’re not attracted to him. You’re bound to him - for as long as you’re still craving Love. Because while one always longs for love, none ever wants to suffer. But Love comes with pain. They are undetachable, so you fail to run away.

Nico takes the cruelest of Love and lays it bare. Nico sees the curse of Love the same way children of Aphrodite praise its blessings. He looks at its ugly face while the others dream about the most romantic stories. He watches it brakes and bends, twists and turns, curses and cries. And he holds it in his hands like a grudge. For despite everything he has sufferred, Nico still wishes to love. For only when one sees the rawest of love, would they know how to love trully.

Children of Aphrodite takes pride in capturing people’s hearts. Nico looks at your bleeding heart in his hands with those gazes they give to a wounded animal. He sees your anguish and struggles, your fears and despair, your damaged and covers. No, he wouldn’t heal them, because he can’t. He would only hold your hands and guide you through the cages of burderning feelings. He tells you how to embrace them.

Because no matter what kind of unwanted feelings they are, they mean that Love is there, “so you don’t let go of them.” He says.

#my contribution to the #nico son of aphrodite agenda #nico is a son of aphrodite #son of aphrodite au #nico di angelo #yone rambling #yone headcanon #nico headcanon #pjo au #pjo #hoo #toa #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #trials of apollo

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jasonsmirrorball · 6 months

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ok ok dad jason and his diary about his baby growing up…

he ends up treating it like a real diary and writes some pretty honest and intense things in there. talking about how he used this as a bridge to make up with dick, how no matter how scared he was that this was the first time he’s had hope in such a long time. that some nights he would let his fear of failure and being a parent get the best of him, and shed tears while whispering “i’m so sorry you’re mine” to the baby. that sometimes he feels SO helpless as he watches mom struggle to breastfeed and sob because she feels like she’s failing, too.

but these entries are sandwiched between moments where he writes about how baby smiled for the first time, and jason swears he never felt love like that before. that baby rolled over for the first time, lifted their head up on their own, learned how to clap and thinks sneezes are the funniest. that he watches mom lay on the floor and play with baby and finally feels complete.

he stops writing in the journal as consistently as the baby begins to toddle. he’ll write entries as he remembers, saying how much he misses baby while they’re at preschool/daycare. that they came home with sloppy hand turkey art for thanksgiving and he swears he’s never seen anything greater. but he starts to go months, years without writing. it eventually ends up forever untouched when baby reaches age 7, and shoved into a closet somewhere.

when the kid is a teenager, and deep in their teen angst where they hate everyone/everything, they have a chore to help sort out the hall closet. they find the journal and start reading through it, and never realized how much their father went through. i don’t think jason will ever be able to fully articulate feelings, and he never planned on telling their kid just how difficult his life was before, and especially not during those first few years of baby’s life and was still learning that he deserved a life like this.

jason comes home and finds them on the floor, poring through the worn journal. he stops in his tracks because he never really planned on giving the journal to his kid, and he honestly forgot about it. they have this heart to heart on the floor, talking through the tensions that had been building up between them in the past few months. a lot of teenage angst “well i’m sorry i ruined your life!” or “i bet you just wish i was never born!” sort of things, lots of twisting words and miscommunication. i’m team girl dad!jason, so for me it’s him and his 15 year old daughter talking, sitting against the wall, with her head on his shoulder. it’s the first time he is really transparent and open with her emotionally, talking about how having her truly changed his life, but it was never for the worse.

anyway it strengthens their relationship and she is unabashedly a daddy’s girl again, and life in the house feels a lot smoother. mom finds them sleepy against the wall after a long talk and lots of tears.

sorry this is so long LOL i spent my lunch doing this. maybe one day id turn it into a real fic who knows. anyway love u ro 💖

i love u ro thank u for sending this in i don't think i can add anything to this except to say that this version of dad jason is unfortunately so very me and my father except we did NOT talk about it lmao (i do love my baba very much though)

this breaks my heart in the best way i'm going to be thinking about this for a really long time

#love letters 💌#jay my heart #dad!jason #i don't think mentally stable enough rn to actually delve into this because it's too close to home lmfao but he has my heart and this au 2 #loverboy 💌

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sardonic-sprite · 11 months

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June of DOOM

Here we goooooo

9 fics, 30 prompts, currently about 50 pages and 18k words, and 6 NDEs... 5 of which are Jason. Oops. Anyway, here is the schedule, as well as titles, prompts, and a preview paragraph

June 3 - Help (Just A Kid Ch2)

Prompts: Day 3 - "I can handle it" | Day 12 - Fainting | Day 28 - Knife

Jason didn’t know how he stayed on his feet as long as he did. How he held the knife still when the hilt and his hand kept growing slicker with his blood. How he crawled up the two stairs to slump against the rail, or how he raised one fist to thump it weakly against the door. How he’d even made a loud enough sound to be heard. But he had.

June 4 - Yea, Though I Walk

Prompts: Day 4 - Delirium | Day 16 - Stairs | Day 18 - Blankets | Day 24 - Illness

Tim only hummed, unsure, but Father slipped behind him and carefully lifted him up, bracing him against his chest. He was warm, and Tim pressed closer, and it chased away a tiny bit of the chill. A cup pressed against Tim’s lips. He opened his mouth and sweet, cool water flowed in, taking away the awful taste and calming the raging fire in his throat.

June 7 - priceless

Prompts: Day 6 - Duct Tape | Day 7 - Disoriented | Day 13 - Rescue | Day 21 - Choke

But Jason wasn't arrogant enough to think he could rip free from the mummifying layers of tape and take down Allen before the man could suffocate him again. He needed someone to tell Allen he'd get his money so that he'd leave Jason alone until rescue came or he devised a way to escape on his own.

Jason mentally groaned. So fucking much for keeping this a secret.

June 10 - bane

Prompts: Day 2 - Sobbing | Day 10 - Shackle | Day 23 - Poison

This was a risk any time any one of them went out, and Bruce knew that, and he struggled with it every day. This was a relatively common occurrence, a drugged out, chained up bird or bat, and Bruce might’ve thought he’d be over the rush of pure terror by now, but no. Every damn time someone hurt his kids, or even got close, he completely froze, for a split second, stomach twisting and mouth going dry, remembering rattling breaths, cold skin, still chests, whispered pleas, spreading bloodstains.

June 11 - hey, brother

Prompts: Day 5 - Handcuffs | Day 11 - Firearm | Day 14 - Slurred Speech | Day 30 - Failed Escape

“Goddamnit, brat, I’m not leaving both of you behind,” Tim snapped, finding his pace and striding down the hall. The main entrance was out. He’d have to find a back door. “I came with one brother, and I’m not leaving with any less.”

June 15 - phantasm

Prompts: Day 1 - Fear | Day 8 - "Breathe, damn you!" | Day 15 - Scream

It was too far to make out the words, but Jason knew Damian’s voice when he heard it. That kid could scream, but he wasn't supposed to, not in pain, not for any reason other than attracting Bruce and getting the rest of them into trouble.

But Jason could hear laughter, too.

June 22 - big brother

Prompts: Day 19 - Guilt | Day 22 - Rage | Day 27 - "I'm so sorry"

He shouldn’t be doing this. Aiding and abetting another little boy taking up a flag that always seemed to be cut to bloody ribbons. But it was too late to stop it now. All he could do was pour everything he had – every skill, every trick, every tactic and stratagem and all of his will – into catching Tim, and forcing him into more months of training. Stalling him.

Playing for time. Like there was a bomb about to go off that he couldn’t defuse.

June 25 - underneath the undertow

Prompts: Day 9 - Defiance | Day 25 - Drowning | Day 26 - Numb

Dick remained still and silent, knowing that to play dead was the best way to let Slade's passion fits ebb. Sure enough, in another minute the pressure on his arms let up and he was allowed to stand. He returned his hands to his sides, refusing to rub his throbbing wrists. He kept his gaze on the floor as Slade fisted a hand in his hair.

June 29 - no good deed

Prompts: Day 17 - "Don't lie to me." | Day 20 - Cage | Day 29: Secret

Antonin Laur rolled up the newspaper once more, using it to tilt Jason's face up. He jerked back, glaring, as much as the men holding his arms would let him.

"Wayne has a real gift," Laur mused, "always finding boys that are both pretty and smart."

#sprite said #sprite's plan #sprite wrote #june of doom #batman #batfam #jason todd #tim drake #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #ao3 writer #fic writing

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ram-reads · 2 years

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Since I started this series every book has been better than the last. The Blood of Olympus has ended that trend. I felt like this was the most boring book in the series. I hate it when a series ends on a low note. The Blood of Olympus does something a little different with its plot. Instead of just following the Argo II as it journeys to Athens we also follow Nico and Reyna as they bring the Athena Parthenos back to Camp Half-Blood. On their way to Athens to stop the giants from waking Gaea, the crew on the Argo II also look for a way to make sure everyone on their team lives after receiving grim information about the outcome of their quest from the goddess Nike. Meanwhile Nico is struggling with having to constantly shadow travel with little rest due to not only the time constraint but also the fact that they are being chased by a giant named Orion. I wouldn’t say that I found the plot completely boring since I was interested in Reyna, Nico, and Jason’s chapters, but it failed to hold my attention most of the time. When I put it down I struggled to pick it back up again because I just wasn’t that invested. Part of why I felt that way is because the story was way too predictable. Due to the nature of prophecies and all the dream visions the characters have, I'm used to easily being able to predict what will happen in Riordan’s books. This time around though Riordan left very little up to interpretation. I knew every step of the way what was going to happen which made every “major moment” fall flat because I knew that everything would be alright. Telling me that everything will work out early on in the story really brings the direness out of the plot for the reader. I was also unimpressed with this final book because it should’ve been the most high stakes one and it wasn’t. The Last Olympian was more high stakes than this one! How can that be possible when the enemies in this series are supposed to be tougher!?! With everything they were up against the ending was wrapped up far too nicely. I thought at the beginning of this series that Riordan’s writing had become more approachable for adults, but now I feel the opposite. Riordan holds the hand of his reader too much, and I don’t think that’ll ever change so I don’t see myself reading his books again in the future.

With this being the final book I expected to get the perspectives from all the demigods of the prophecy, but that didn’t happen. Out of the seven we only get Jason, Piper, and Leo’s perspectives. While I understand why that’s the case because the other four have had their arcs wrapped up, it still felt weird that they got no chapters in the final book. I’m not going to complain too much though because in exchange for them we got Reyna and Nico’s perspectives, and their chapters were the most engaging out of all of them. My feelings for all of the characters didn’t change in this book. I still find Leo annoying and I don’t understand how out of all seven of them he was the one that Riordan seemed to focus on the most. I’m still indifferent toward Piper. I found all of her chapters pretty boring. Jason was my favorite out of the trio but I feel like Riordan did him dirty. His chapters were usually short whereas it felt like Leo’s were always super long. On the other hand I really came to like Reyna. She had a surprising backstory and her powers were unique. Even though I don’t plan on reading anything else by Riordan I hope she continues to be an important character in his other books. Nico was my favorite character like always. His plot line was the best. I liked getting to learn more about his powers and I surprisingly really came to like his relationship with Reyna. They were like brother and sister which was sweet to see. My feelings on the romantic relationships also didn’t change. Still don’t like Piper and Jason. Leo and Calypso still feel incredibly forced. Nico also gets a small romance but I didn’t have any strong feelings for it. I guess I just don’t like the way Riordan writes romance. He built up Percy and Annabeth’s relationship really well throughout five books but now it feels like most of his romances fall near the instalove category. For a final book this was disappointing. The entirety of it felt anticlimactic. At least after reading this whole series I’ve discovered that Riordan’s writing style doesn’t work for me and I won’t be wasting anymore time on it. He gives too much of his story away. I would give this entire series 4 stars because it was enjoyable. I just wish it had ended on a stronger note.

#book review #book reviews #the blood of olympus #heroes of olympus #booklr #2021 reads #3 stars #my reviews

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bigskydreaming · 3 years

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Brain topic du jour is reflecting on the frankly weird as fuck pattern in Dick’s life where....he barely ever experiences losses one at a time. Most of the loss he’s experienced in his life is compounded by him losing multiple people and other elements of stability all at the exact same time.

1) When his parents died, in some continuities this is coupled with him losing his extended family of his aunt and cousin as well, with his uncle left comatose and on life support for years before he eventually died as well. Even in continuities without Richard, Karla and John, the loss of Dick’s parents is compounded by the additional loss of his circus family in the sense that he was taken away from them by the state and their constant reassuring presences in his life were no longer comforts he was able to rely on.

2) When Jason died, Dick didn’t just lose his brother, as the tragedy was compounded by Bruce’s reaction. I’ll never be able to gloss over the effects of NTT #55, personally, because I think its too key to Dick’s entire characterization and the specific direction his character took in the years that followed this, to like....disregard that Bruce however unintentionally, while lost in his own grief, added to Dick’s own sense of loss for Jason in probably the worst way possible. As by kicking Dick out and telling him to leave his keys, Dick - having no way to know or guess that they’d ever reconcile, just like he never actually went back to the circus being a regular presence for him - to Dick, this was in essence the equivalent of his childhood tragedy all over again. Losing not just one family member, but his whole family in one sweep, and all the comforts and stability offered by a home he was forced to leave. Even Dick’s contact with Alfred was minimal for awhile, because why would the guy who basically JUST saw history repeat itself and was like, well I know how THIS tends to play out.....why would he think that if Alfred felt forced to actually choose between his loyalties to Bruce and Dick respectively, that Alfred would pick Dick over the man he’d known and raised from childhood himself?

3) Titans Hunt. I know I harp on this one a lot, but you can’t deny that it fits the pattern. Dick didn’t just lose one friend and teammate.....he lost Joey, he lost a good four or five lesser known Titans who nevertheless were people he viewed as directly HIS responsibility to keep safe. With these tragedies compounded by the fact that though comics played out a lot more slowburn and extended stories over years back then, like.....the aftermath of Titans Hunt was still everpresent and directly died into Dick’s reactions and emotions during the Mirage storyline and everything that happened with the failed wedding and his breakup with Kory AND the fact that he was literally forced off the team he’d basically founded, by the government agency that took over the team and appointed Roy as its leader in his stead.

3) Graduation Day. The second time the Titans disbanded it was again not due to a singular loss, because Dick didn’t just lose Donna at this point, but also Lilith died in the exact same story and though Lilith is criminally underused, like, she’s also one of Dick’s oldest friends. She was literally the first Titan to join after the original five. This then led into the Outsiders era, where Dick was shown to still be reeling from the losses of this story for an extended period of time, and in a fun parallel to the Titans Hunt aftermath, Dick was also ousted from his leadership of THIS team by essentially a vote of no confidence by his teammates (and uh, Bruce too, literally).

4) The Blockbuster arc. Where Dick’s emotional state was due to a continued string of multiple losses. He lost his apartment building and almost every one of the neighbors he’d built a community out of, as we’d been shown him actively involving himself in their lives and vice versa for YEARS before this point. Then he lost his circus, his childhood home, burned to the ground and with dozens of deaths - both spectators and actual performers Dick had known and loved as a child. Then he lost his relationship with Barbara, his sense of self-security and autonomy to Tarantula, he lost another teen vigilante who died in his colors, the mantle HE’D created, when Stephanie was believed dead in War Games, and it all culminated in losing the city he’d invested himself in as his CHOSEN home, the place he dedicated himself to protecting, when Chemo blew it up.

Oh just for the record - my nonexistent passport to the magical kingdom of Narnia for a fic that raises the point when bringing up Tim’s losses in the Red Robin era, that like.....ALL of the above happened at literally the EXACT SAME TIME as all Tim’s referenced losses occurred. Obviously Steph meant more to Tim than Dick on a personal level, but I also included her largely as an anchor point to the timeline, to show how that death, and not long after that Jack Drake’s and then Superboy’s.... occurred right smack in the middle of one of the absolute WORST periods of Dick’s life. To be clear, I don’t intend this to suggest that no actually, Dick had it harder than Tim - nah.

No thank you. Hard pass. I hate that sort of thing even in support of my own faves over other characters. No, instead the thing I’d love to see explored more is just in light of the SPECIFIC angle fics take here - that Dick’s actions while Bruce was lost in time showed an obliviousness to everything Tim had lost lately - for literally ANYONE to bring up or introduce into the timeline here an awareness of everything Dick had lost AT THE EXACT SAME TIME PERIOD. To establish that actually, Dick didn’t just ‘not understand what it was like’ - rather, its more accurate to say that nobody in universe around this time ever shows an awareness of Dick’s own losses and says oh wait, that doesn’t track then.

Because obviously, with this stuff put in proper perspective, Dick understands VERY VERY WELL the exact thing we’re accusing him of not understanding by being oblivious to Tim’s losses that he’s not actually oblivious to because he tries to talk to Tim about them all the time, while meanwhile its everyone else who has absolutely mum to say about the fact that Dick’s emotional state is compromised to hell and back at this point, not JUST because of losing Bruce, but also because *gestures wildly* literally ALL OF THE ABOVE in the exact same time frame Tim’s extended losses happened in.

And okay I am going to indulge in slight tiny itty bitty pettiness and point out my ire that so many fics set during this time tend to recite listicles of Tim’s losses, with Steph, Kon and Jack Drake at the very top of said list....while paying no attention whatsoever to the fact that STEPH WAS LITERALLY BACK BY THE TIME THE RED ROBIN SERIES HAPPENED. She’s LITERALLY a person Dick sends to check up on Tim after Tim turns Dick away when he tries himself. How are you gonna stress the impact Steph’s loss has on Tim when you’re not even acknowledging STEPH’S RIGHT HERE IN THE EXACT SPECIFIC CANON STORY YOU’RE CITING??? I just. afhioskhflafhlafhklfahlfa.

And not to put too fine a point on it, but you know who ELSE was also back at the same time? CONNOR. Superboy LITERALLY was already back to life by the time the Red Robin series even began. Like, the issue where a resurrected Kon and Cassie (Wonder Girl) have a heart to heart about the fact that Tim and Cassie ‘connected’ during his absence and Connor stresses that this doesn’t bother him or make him feel negatively towards either of them at all, because hello, he was literally dead at the time, why would he mind that two of the people he loves most in the world sought comfort in each other? Yeah, that issue? Literally came out BEFORE Tim even became Red Robin.

I MEAN. I’m just saying, when people constantly take shots at Dick’s choices during this period because of how much Tim had lost before Bruce already, in order to shift focus away from the fact that Dick lost Bruce every bit as much as Tim did......and you repeatedly emphasize the SAME three names as the focal point of Tim’s losses while paying no acknowledgment whatsoever to everything Dick lost at the exact same time Tim lost these three.....it quickly becomes kiiiiiiinda relevant in my opinion THAT TWO OF THE THREE NAMES CONSTANTLY MENTIONED AS BEING TIM’S LOSSES ARE NO LONGER EVEN LOST BY THE TIME THE SUBJECT COMES UP. Again, I’m just saying! Pettily, mind you! I am aware of the pettiness, I just beg awareness of like *again gesticulates wildly at all of the above* ALL THAT!

LOL.

But I digress.

5) When Bruce was believed dead while he was lost in the timestream. Again, Dick didn’t just lose the father who had been the only parent in his life for almost TWICE as long as his first parents......this was coupled with the loss of numerous other sources of stability in Dick’s life. There’s the matter of his personal sense of identity and self-expression....Dick FOUGHT against becoming Batman, trying to handle Gotham in Bruce’s absence as Nightwing for as long as he could, because he knew being Batman was very much NOT going to be good for him. He put so much of himself into building his identity as Nightwing, establishing himself in that role, that self-image, that yes, I maintain it was an actual LOSS for Dick, to feel like he had no choice but to give that up and everything it meant to him and his own life, in order to essentially live Bruce’s life for him in his absence.

Because it wasn’t just being Batman that Dick was struggling with at this time....he also had to act as the patriarch to the Wayne family, essentially raise Bruce’s ten year old son, step into Bruce’s old role in Wayne Enterprises, all while getting no acknowledgment for any of this, for literally LIVING his father’s life instead of the life Dick had worked so hard to build for HIMSELF....because of course Dick’s actions and struggles couldn’t even be advertised beyond the family and close friends, because the whole point of him doing all this was so that nobody else even realized that Bruce wasn’t really there anymore. Dick didn’t just assume Bruce’s responsibilities. Dick assumed Bruce’s life, so thoroughly that most people didn’t even put together that Bruce was ‘dead,’ between Dick handling Bruce’s actual roles and responsibilities while Hush made public appearances as him.

Like, when you’re living someone else’s life so completely that nobody can tell they’re even gone....how on earth does that leave any time or space for you to have ANY kind of life of your OWN, y’know? Not to mention the fact that like in so many times previously....all this meant that Dick couldn’t even afford to let his grief for his own losses show, because he wasn’t supposed to be grieving any losses in the first place, that was the whole point of the con!

Additionally, couple this with the fact that throughout this time period, Dick didn’t have Tim to lean on at all, because it was never that Dick kicked Tim out or neglected him or didn’t care....he’d actively stressed how much he needed Tim, because the partner Tim was convinced Dick chose ‘over’ him - Dick was the first one to admit back then that he DIDN’T trust Damian yet, couldn’t afford to, because he was all too aware that Damian didn’t give a fuck about him yet and couldn’t be guaranteed to step in to have Dick’s back - because that required mutual trust that Dick literally just hadn’t had time to build yet. And add to THAT the fact that during this time, Jason was actively antagonizing the family and Dick in particular at every turn, trying to bring them all down and basically write over what all of them saw as Bruce’s legacy with Jason’s own version of what he thought that should look like.

Also also, take into account that unlike how often we see fanon depict Dick as just too stubborn or proud to ask for help, there’s the fact that he actually had very few avenues TO ask for help! As already established, he DID ask Tim for help. Not like Jason was an option at this time, and Dick’s friends weren’t actually just sitting waiting in the wings and groaning about the fact that Dick was trying to do all of this solo....nah, they kinda had their own problems, which Dick was all too aware of?

Like the fact that in the wake of Final Crisis, it wasn’t just Bruce that was believed lost. Many other key Leaguers like Martian Manhunter were dead or lost, with others struggling to fill the gaps left in their absence. Cry For Justice happened right after Final Crisis too....that story where Lian was murdered? So it wasn’t like Dick was remotely going to try leaning on Roy when Roy had just lost his freaking DAUGHTER and very much wasn’t handling it well (and not to overshadow Roy’s loss at ALL, but please let’s not act like Dick - who had literally been the person to put a baby Lian in Roy’s arms for the first time and had known that girl for pretty much her entire life - like, it shouldn’t be used to detract from Roy’s loss at all, but it shouldn’t have to, to just acknowledge that Lian’s loss right at this exact time was painful as fuck to Dick, who’d loved his niece like crazy.)

The pattern of compounding, concurrent losses in Dick’s life. I’m just saying. Its there.

And it extends into the New 52 as well, where Forever Evil came right on the heels of Dick losing his circus in THIS continuity to the Joker, just as a way to hurt him in Death of A Family. And with the aftermath of Forever Evil and Dick’s own literal death, being like....the complete loss of Dick’s entire life, even though he was revived quickly. That didn’t mean he got to live HIS life though, since Dick Grayson was believed dead and he was told had to remain so, so its like fuck whatever he actually wanted to do as he went about on the Spyral mission aka something that pinched his own sense of morality and personal agenda at every turn and was kinda the last thing a therapist would recommend for a trauma recovery period, lol. And like, for all the focus that was paid to how Dick’s family were hurt because they believed they’d lost him when he was actually alive, let’s not forget that for all intents and purposes, Dick DID lose his family in the wake of his resurrection because he was flat out told over and over that due to what ‘he’d LET happen to him’ he was an ACTIVE danger to them, and thus wasn’t allowed by Bruce to contact any of them or lean on them to any degree, until Bruce got amnesia and stopped blocking Dick’s pleas to return home by just not being there to pick up the secret phone line at all.

(And omg, the obliviousness that just EMANATES off the hot takes that Dick had a ‘choice’ in all this and he still CHOSE to do what Bruce told him....like. LOLOL, stop being pissy about me bringing up the term abuse apologism when its literal victim blaming to paint the guy who had to be beaten into ‘agreeing’ to the Spyral mission in the immediate wake of the trauma of DYING, all while his father vocally blamed him for his own suffering and the ‘threat’ he now posed to his family, keying directly into the guilt complex Bruce knows damn well is at the core of most of Dick’s motivations.....fucking please. There’s no choice in all that. That’s active emotional, mental and physical abuse aimed at directly manipulating Dick’s actions, delivered by the guy who knows Dick best in the world and whose approval - particularly when Dick is at absolute rock bottom aka Current Location - matters more to Dick than just about anything because his sense of self-worth has more in common with dog shit than actual dog shit does. Or something. Idk. That analogy got away from me. But like. You get it.)

BUT. I. DIE. GRESS. (I guess).

Aaaaaaanyway, so yeah! That repeating pattern throughout Dick’s life of ‘loss? What loss (singular)? My losses only come in groups, lolol, fuuuuuun’ - mmmm. Yeah. So that’s what’s on MY brain right now. Thoughts?

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catxsnow · 3 years

Text

HAPPINESS B.W.

Request: Will you do a Bruce Wayne x reader where the reader gets hurt because of his life and he just like super sorry and regretful? If you wanna change the bat boy that'll be okay.

Warning: mentions of blood and injury, fluff, angst

A/N: hello good day one and all, my writing inspiration has plummeted even more but I hope everyone enjoys this.

Word count: 1.9k

Bruce never wanted you to be part of his life for this reason. He didn't want an innocent civilian to get caught up in his life as Batman. Someone who couldn't take care of themselves like he or his kids could. He didn't want you to be trapped in the crossfire of his battles and be the one to suffer the consequences.

You knew the risks of being with him. One night he may never make it home because of his fights. Or maybe that one of his sons or daughter would fall again, and this time never return. You knew that maybe, you would somehow be the one to get the bullet instead of someone that would have known how to dodge it.

Maybe if Bruce would have been faster, or if he ignored his pride and asked for help everything would have turned out fine. Maybe if he sacrificed himself, you would have ended up safe. Instead, you laid in a hospital bed. Cast around your arm, brace on your neck. Cuts and bruises laced your skin from the accident.

Except it wasn't an accident. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and there was nothing that Bruce could have done to help, no matter how much he beat himself up over it. He was saving the lives of others - you would never shame him for that.

Being Batman was something you had to learn to deal with, but his need to save lives was something you could never chastise. You had your fights over it, the crying and screaming matches that seemed to go on for hours. Your pleads to get him to stop when things were going too far.

The times a young Jason Todd would come into your room with red eyes because he heard you and Bruce fights. An older Jason coming to you for comfort after hearing yet another argument with your husband. Tim crawling into your bed with you as Bruce headed out for a night on his own after yelling at you.

Dick, the child you never got a hand in raising, but being there for you because he knew Bruce's antics more than anyone. All his kids adored you, and they all knew what it was like to be on the other end of Bruce's stubborn Wrath.

Bruce was worth it. He was worth every tear, every kiss, every second. Every moment you spent with him, whether it be love or hate, you wouldn't change it for anything. Even if his love was the reason that you were in that bed.

"It's not your fault, Bruce," Dick stood behind the chair in which his adopted father sat. He came back to Gotham the moment that he heard about what happened. Damian had told him scene by scene what occurred - nothing of which Bruce could have stopped. Maybe not even if he was Superman.

Unfortunately, Dick knew all too well that Bruce would feel guilty for this. He was more protective of you than anyone else in this entire world. He would go to any length to keep you safe.

Bruce held your hand in his. The faint pulse was the only thing keeping him sane in that moment. His hair was tousled, likely from the stress he had been under these past few hours. It wasn't often Dick saw him like this. Then again, it wasn't often Bruce ever let anything happen to you.

"I knew a day like this would come and yet I still agreed to let them into my life," Bruce's voice was hoarse - nearly as much as it was when he was under the cowl. The only difference, was now he wasn't hiding behind a mask, he was forced to face the reality of what could happen to those he loved because of his life.

"Growing up, I never thought I'd see the day that you'd fall in love," Dick sat down in the chair across from Bruce. He refused to take his eyes off you, even with his son showing himself. "And then you met (Y/N). I remember them coming over to the mansion for the first time. I wasn't living there anymore but you wanted me to come to meet them.

"I've never seen you laugh, genuinely laugh, so much in one night. I could tell, from that night that they were different than the other woman you brought home. You cared about them from the start, Bruce. (Y/N) wasn't just some other person that you seduced to uphold your playboy act. They knew what they were getting into with you. You can't just force everyone away because you're scared of potential outcomes - that's part of life. Even for Batman."

"They wouldn't be here if it wasn't for me," Bruce tried to argue. Always the glutton for punishment, even when the hand didn't need to be delivered to him.

"And they might have ended up far worse if it hadn't been for you," Dick spoke, his voice steady. He too hated seeing you like this - but if Bruce wasn't going to be the stable one then he had to take that burden. "If there's one thing in this world that people like us struggle to get... it's happiness. You found yours in (Y/N). Don't lose that because of one accident."

"Father."

It had been days since you had been admitted into the hospital. Yesterday morning you woke up sore, but alive. Bruce was yet to leave your side. Stubble littered his face from going days without shaving. A look that you weren't able to truly appreciate from being asleep half the time.

By this time the next day, you would be allowed to leave, but that didn't make your husband any less worried about your well being. Bruce still blamed himself for what happened, even after you had told him it wasn't his fault in the slightest. You could see the guilt on his face, just as he wore every time something went wrong with you involved.

"I brought you food," Damian held a bag of take-out in his hand. If he knew his father well enough, he'd know that he hadn't eaten anything all day. It was confirmed when he heard the loud growl of Bruce's stomach the moment that he got a whiff of the food in the room. "Eat."

"I'm not hungry," Bruce waved off his son. It was clear he was in need of something to eat, though he was too stubborn to take care of himself while you were in need. Even if it was just watching over you while you slept. Damian shoved the bag directly in front of his face until he reluctantly accepted.

"You need a shower," Damian's nose curled up. He stood looking down at his father. As worried as he had been, he also was acting immaturely. Refusing to take care of himself, constantly under surveillance while you were in good hands as it was. "(Y/N) will be perfectly safe with me. Go home. Get some sleep. We'll be here in the morning and ready to go home."

"I'm fine."

"You're not." Damian eyes the food until Bruce took a bite. It wasn't often that he was worried about his father, but it had been days since he had properly looked out for himself. It was clear how far his love for you went after seeing him like this. Or more so, his guilt for letting this happen. "Do you not trust me to take care of them?"

Bruce's jaw tightened. Truth was, he didn't trust anyone with you. Not even himself. Not even Clark. Damian took his silence as an answer. Of course not. Bruce couldn't trust him for a night out alone on patrol, how was he supposed to trust him with his partner?

"It's my fault they're here, Damian," Bruce sighed. "I've never been so scared before."

This was the first time that Damian had ever seen his father so truly vulnerable. Never in his life did Bruce admit that he was scared, yet here he was completely unscathed and terrified. Dick was right, he found complete and utter happiness in you, and the thought of losing you hurt more than anything else.

He wasn't just scared. He was horrified. Nothing in this world put more fear into him than seeing you suffer, or worse.

"It's not your fault, Father," Damian assured, just as his older brother had. "You always taught me to be brave, to face what scared me most. There's nothing wrong with feeling scared sometimes. It reminds us that we're human, that we're allowed to feel things. (Y/N) loves you, this won't change anything."

"Bruce would you stop hovering over me, I'm fine!"

You thought getting back to the manor would mean Bruce would finally be off your back about your injuries. It couldn't be more of the opposite. He was constantly trailing behind you, ready to give you aid whenever you needed it. Honestly, you weren't even that sore.

The brace on your neck was gone before you even left the hospital. Your dark bruises were lighter in color and the cuts that required stitches were healing just fine. The only noticeable injury was the cast on your arm, and you could still function just fine without it. Bruce was just being his overly-protective self.

"If I would have known that all I needed to do to get this much attention from you was to get myself hurt, I would have done it a long time ago," You tried to joke. He remained stoic about your comment, your health was no joking matter. You placed your palm on his cheek, the warmth of his skin being soaked up by your own.

"Seriously, hun, I feel perfectly fine. I'm just thankful for you being there." He didn't look convinced. There was nothing worse than failing you, and he had done exactly that.

"Except I wasn't there," he muttered. Bruce tilted his head in shame. He wasn't there to save you fast enough, he should have been. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry that my life put yours at risk."

"Bruce, my love," your fingers caught under his chin. He reluctantly met your eyes. Shame filled his entire body, he was supposed to be able to save the world, and yet he couldn't save the one closest to him. "I will never blame you for anything like this. I need you to know that. No matter what happens to me, It will never be your fault."

"I love you," Bruce's lip trembled. You were quick to bring him into a kiss. After everything that he's done, the last thing that he deserved was guilt. "I can't live without you. You're my happiness, my everything. I was, I was so scared. I can't live without you, (Y/N)."

"And you'll never have to."

Taglist:

@pricetagofficial @mora-miserium @babymango-writes @redrobin-yumm @simp-is-what-i-am @catsofsmoke @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek @spiitfiires @pinkdiamond1016 @childish-kiwi @givetimdrakeacoffee @gunnedrobin @local-fandom-trashcan @bikoncon @foenixphire

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Don’t Be Sorry

In which Y/N’s past catches up to her... and Colson

Reader x Colson Baker

Warnings: Abuse (Graphic), cursing, violence.

A/N: Seriously, it gets detailed. If you are uncomfortable with domestic abuse/ violence then this is not the fic for you. If you are a victim of abuse, there are resources available for you. The National Domestic Violence Support Hotline is 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Word Count: 2352

masterlist

“To good music and good friends” Colson shouted over the noise of the crowd. The group raised their glasses in a toast before downing the shot. “Now let’s fuckin party!”

It was your first time out in a while. You liked to pretend it was because you were too busy. I have a job outside of writing music with you, you would always remind the older boy. But truthfully, you weren’t as attached to the party scene as your friends and did whatever you could to avoid them.

But when Colson asked, well begged, you to go out with them to celebrate finishing Hotel Diablo you couldn’t say no. Colson’s face when you said yes almost made you excited. Almost.

But now on the crowded rooftop of a club you’d never been to in an outfit that was all too tight and all too short, you wished you’d made up an excuse to stay home. Luckily your friends made you forget your unease.

“Y/N, watch me drink both of these beers in 10 seconds!” Rook shouted, holding two bottles in his hands. You laughed, shaking your head slightly at his antics and pulling out your phone to time him.

“Ok, go.” You said as he brought the bottles up to his mouth, chugging both in an astounding 9.75 seconds. “Dude that’s insane.” You showed him the timer and he cheered, dragging you to the bar.

“I’m getting you a drink, whaddyu want?” Rook asked as he waved down the bartender. “Rum and coke?” He questioned, knowing your order by heart at this point.

“How’d you guess.” You asked with a smile on your face.

“It’s a talent.” Rook laughed, arms flailing as he bowed dramatically.

The pair of you got your drinks and returned to your group in the middle of the dance floor. When you got back Slim dramatically held out his hand for you to dance with him, and you guys jumped around to the music.

The drink in your veins made you a little more comfortable. it wasn’t enough to get you into any trouble, just enough to loosen you up for a good time. As the group laughed at AJ’s terrible dance moves, you felt a chill come over the room.

As the rest of your friends smiled and laughed, you looked around the dance floor, trying to find anything, or anyone, out of place. Unfortunately for you, you were much shorter than the men around you, so you couldn’t see much.

Colson noticed you weren’t really with the group, and he followed your gaze around the room, leaning in close to you. “Everything ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just have this weird feeling.”

He laughed, “drink too much?”

You gave him a pointed look and then chuckled to signify you were joking. “No, I just, I don’t know how to explain it. I just have a bad feeling about something.”

“Ok, well just don’t leave my side. I’ll keep you safe.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes, but you appreciated the sincerity in his statement.

Colson and you had been friends for years, but after your last relationship ended... roughly (to put it nicely), he let you stay at his place for a while until you got back on your feet. Since then you’d gotten closer to the tattooed man and come to trust him implicitly.

You refocused on your friends, watching Pete and Baze racing pints of beers, with Baze winning (for obvious reasons). You laughed as Pete hung his head in shame. He scrunched his nose at you. “I don’t see you chugging anything.”

This only made you laugh harder, “I don’t think what you were doing is considered “chugging.”” You made air quotes as he put on a mock hurt expression.

“Y/N’s up next!” Slim shouted and your eyes went wide.

“Oh hell no, man. I leave that shit up to you guys.” You smiled as he shook his head profusely.

“Nope, you gotta do it. Rook’s already getting the beer.”

You hung your head, knowing there was no arguing with Slim. “Fine, but I’m gonna lose and then I’m gonna be mad. So if I’m mad, its your fault.” You shook your head as the boys howled.

Rook came back with two beers in his hand, handing you one. “I’ll give you a head start.” Slim smiled.

“Fuck no, man.” You said before bringing the beer to your lips, chugging the drink. Slim was taken off guard and ended up starting a few seconds after you, which was all the advantage you needed.

You raised your hands in victory as AJ picked you up in celebration, the boys cheering for you as Slim hung his head. Once you landed back on your feet, Rook threw his arm around your shoulders, “Y/N is the fuckin bomb.”

You loved this feeling, you loved being surrounded by your friends who loved you. You giggled as he leaned into you, making you stumble under his weight.

“Oh look, Y/Ns surrounded by all her little man-whores.” His voice sobered you up instantly and made every bone in your body tense up. You looked up to Colson for support, but he was already focused on the man behind you.

“Not even gonna look at me, damn. You’re really that much of a bitch, huh? Not even gonna say hi?” His voice was like poison in your veins. Every word he spoke reminded you of the last time you saw him. You subconsciously reached up to your neck, rubbing your throat.

“Get the fuck away from her dude.” Colson said shortly. You tried to catch his eye. You wanted to beg him not to make a scene, to just take your hand and leave. But it was too late for that.

“And who the fuck are you?” Jason, your ex-boyfriend, moved towards Colson and into your view. You flashed back to the night in his living room, his back facing you just like it was now, before he turned around and-

Luckily, Rook’s hand squeezing your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to look at him, his head cocked and his eyes questioning. You simply shook your head at him. You looked back to Colson who was seething. You caught Pete’s eye behind him and mouthed, we need to leave.

Pete nodded, grabbing Colson’s arm lightly, but the blond only shook off his friends grasp.

“Hey, there’s this really cool music store down the street that’s still open, we should go check it out.” AJ said, his eyes trained on you. Thank god for AJ.

“Yeah, that sounds like a great idea.” Pete said, “Colson let’s go check it out.”

You could see Jason’s face change when he figured out who the blond man was. “Yeah, Colson, why don’t you take your bitch and get out of here.”

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Colson moved closer to him and your eyes widened in fear.

“What? A bitch? That’s what she is, a slutty fucking bitch.” With every word, Jason moved closer to your friend until the two men were almost touching. Tears stung your eyes as you flashed back again.

“You stupid fucking whore. Who the fuck do you think you are? Fucking around with some asshole rapper! Did you forget you fucking belong to me?”

His words still rang in your mind. You could feel your body begin to shut down, your lungs gasping for breath just like they had that day.

You were brought back to reality by the screams of protest as Colson pushed your ex-boyfriend away from him, causing Jason’s fist to make contact with Colson’s jaw.

“You think you can get away with making me look like an idiot? I’m your fucking boyfriend, not him.”

Jason’s fist made contact with your left cheek and your knees failed to hold you up. The man caught you before you hit the ground, leaning forward to pin you against the wall behind you.

“Y/N, c’mon, let’s go.” Rook’s arm fell to the small of your back as he escorted you through the crowd, Slim following you. You made your way down the stairs, the two boys helping to support your weight.

“I’m gonna make you remember who you belong to.”

Jason pinned your arms above your head as he pressed you further into the wall. His free hand made its way up your chest to your throat. His soft grasp turned into a squeeze around your neck.

“Jason please-”

You tried to talk, but few words could come out. You struggled for air as his eyes grew darker and darker.

“You think you can go and fuck around with whoever you want, don’t you?”

You shook your head, but he continued.

“You’re a goddamn slut, and you need to learn your lesson.”

Your vision began to blur.

“Y/N, you okay?” You came back to reality to find yourself in the alley between the club and the neighboring building. Slim was standing in front of you, Rook to your side as you leaned against the wall behind you.

You shook your head in response and he let out a sigh. Suddenly the door slammed open and you flinched at the noise.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

You kneed Jason as a last resort before you lost consciousness, and now you were running through the house. You ran into the bathroom, locking the door behind you and pulling your phone from your pocket, not even noticing the new crack in the screen. You searched for the first name you could think of.

“Colson?”

“Colson, take a breath, man!” AJ yelled as he followed the tall blond man outside.

Colson was pacing a few feet away from you as you tried to focus on breathing, your hand subconsciously reaching for your neck again, as if you were trying to pry his invisible hand off of you.

Pete moved in front of you, taking in your state of fear. Other than Colson, Pete was the only one who had any idea about your ex. He didn’t know the whole story, only that it ended violently.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, keeping his distance as he leaned against the other wall across from you.

You sniffled and wiped your face, nodding quickly as you realized most of your friends- save for Baze and Colson- were watching you. “Sorry guys- he’s just an ex. He’s kind of an asshole.”

“Really kid? We couldn’t tell.” AJ tried to joke, and you cracked a small smile, trying to convince them you were ok.

Your breathing started to slow, and you felt yourself coming down from your panicked state, until you caught Colson’s fist making contact with the wall of the club.

“Open this fucking door bitch!”

Jason’s fists beat against the door- the only thing standing between you and him.

“He’s gonna kill me Cols. I’m so scared.”

Your sobs rang through the phone as the banging intensified.

“He can’t save you now, bitch! Not such a big man now, are ya? Colson!”

“Colson!” Baze berated the blond man, who recoiled in pain. “Get your shit together, bro.” He said, quieter.

Colson looked up at his friend and then past him to meet your eyes. His blue orbs softened at the tears in yours. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, walking over to you.

He leaned forward against the wall you already occupied, his arms above your head as his head drooped down to watch you. You looked up at him, your hand reaching up to touch his face where Jason had made contact.

He flinched when your skin met his, causing you to jerk your hand back, afraid he would yell at you for hurting him.

“It’s okay, I was just surprised is all.” He whispered before grabbing your hand and bringing it back up to his chin. You ran your fingers over the forming bruise lightly, another tear falling from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered. “I didn’t think he’d- I didn’t know...” You trailed off, looking down and dropping your hand from Colson’s face.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He moved one hand to gently tilt your face up, leaning down to be closer to you, “Look at me. This was not your fault. Okay? You don’t need to be sorry for anything, babe. You did nothing wrong.”

“I just- if I hadn’t called you that night-”

“You wouldn’t be here. Y/N if you hadn’t called me you could’ve been seriously hurt. He could’ve killed you.”

You took a shaky breath in, sniffling. Colson sniffled too. “Y/N, this is nothing, okay? I would take a thousand more punches like this if it means that douchebag never comes near you again. I mean it. Don’t blame yourself for this, okay?” You nod, reaching your arms up to wrap around his neck as you bury your head into his shoulder, your nose pressed against his neck.

His arms wrapped around you and you could hear his sniffles in your ear as his lips pressed against your hair. “Thank you.” You mumble into his neck, pressing your lips against the hot skin.

“Hey! Get the fuck out of here! This isn’t some fucking party you can photograph. Fuck off with your cameras!” Pete yelled, causing you to release Colson and look towards the commotion. You briefly see a figure in the distance before a white flash blinds you.

“Fuckin paps.” Colson whispered, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“Let’s get outta here, guys.” Slim says, leading everyone back into the club to leave through the back door. Colson interlocked your hand with his as you stepped into the building, keeping you as close to him as possible as you squeezed your way through the crowd.

Once you loaded yourselves into the van, you leaned your head on Colson’s shoulder, your hands still interlocked. “Can I stay at yours tonight?” You asked in a whisper. Colson simply pressed a kiss to your forehead, his hand leaving yours to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk imagine #mgk angst #colson baker imagine #colson imagine #colson x reader #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly imagine

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emilyshotchniss · 3 years

Text

Starting Fresh

Summary: After your best friend Elle leaves the BAU, you’re devastated - and a replacement agent is just adding salt to the wound. Or is it?

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x Fem! BAU reader

Warnings: a little angst? fluff, non-graphic implied smut, nothing major:)

Word Count: 1677

Oh you have got to be kidding me...

You looked up from your desk to find a slender brunette woman standing in Hotch's office. She was carrying a large box, presumably filled with her things, and that could only mean one thing: she was likely Elle's replacement. You rolled your eyes as JJ called you all into the roundtable room, interrupting Hotch's conversation with said brunette, leaving her standing doe-eyed in the doorway, clutching her box. You followed JJ to meet the others, huffing as you went.

"Her body isn't even cold yet! She's been gone less than a week!" You exclaimed to the others.

"Y/N, calm down. We don't even know who she is," Derek said, trying to reassure you. Hotch entered the room with Gideon, looking both annoyed and confused.

"Who was that in your office?" You asked, trying to act cool.

"Nobody. JJ, lets present," He said, abruptly changing the subject.

********************

You made your way across the jet and sat opposite Hotch. He glanced up at you, waiting for you to speak. You squirmed awkwardly, before blurting out your question.

"I just need to know one thing... Is she replacing Elle?" You asked.

"Y/N, not now. I know how close you were with Elle, but this is a private matter." He stated.

"Fine," You sighed, and made your way over to Gideon, at the other end of the jet.

"Hey Gideon, can I ask you something?"

"Fire away kiddo," He replied.

"That woman... You know, the one from Hotch's office this morning? Is she replacing Elle?" You asked, desperate for some more information.

"Look," He began. "I don't know who she is, or why she's here, but she has all the right paperwork saying she's supposed to be here. Hotch is waiting to hear back from Strauss about her." He told you, keeping his voice low so Hotch wouldn't hear. You knew he'd be honest with you, he was almost like a father figure to you, ever since he took you under his wing when you first joined the team. He knew that Elle was your best friend, and how much her leaving affected you - and thought it only fair you knew all the information regarding her vacant position.

"Thank you, Gideon," You said, sincerely.

"Anytime kiddo," He replied, before returning to his book.

*************************

You returned from St Louis, laughing with the team as you entered the bullpen. You noticed the light in Hotch's office was on, and upon closer investigation you saw the same brunette sitting on Hotch's couch, waiting. You knew then she'd be sticking around.

"Alright guys, I'm heading out," You declared, masking your true emotions, dodging everyones' glances.

You walked swiftly to your car, and got in quickly. Everything then hit you at once - Elle was gone - and she was never coming back. Your best friend, was gone for good. You wiped your tears, and drove home, preparing yourself for the difficult day ahead of you.

***************************

Walking into the bullpen the next morning, you saw the brunette arranging some of her things opposite your desk - what was Elle's desk, was now her desk. You sighed, rolling your eyes, psyching yourself up, when Garcia body-blocked you.

"Stop." She stated.

"Ugh- Penelope," You said, attempting to get past, and failing miserably.

"Before you go any further, fix your face. I know she's not Elle and I know you miss her, but she's only trying to do her job. She's actually very lovely," She replied, smiling and booping your nose as she moved aside.

"Okay Garcia, I'll give her a shot," I said, walking up to my desk, when I heard my name.

"Y/N? Agent Y/N Y/L/N?" The voice said. "Hi, I'm Agent Emily Prentiss," She said, extending her hand for you to shake. You hadn't noticed over the last few days, but she had gorgeous brown eyes, you could almost get lost in them.

"Y- Yes, hi," You replied, shaking her hand, before sitting down. "You nervous?" I joked.

"Uh- yeah, actually, a little. I hear I have big shoes to fill," She said, with a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"That you do," You replied, trying to be nice, "But don't worry, I have a feeling you'll fit right in," You finished, no longer faking the niceness, finding it easier to speak to her as the conversation went on. But god, those eyes...

***********************

"The cell members bailed out through a tunnel, the DEA recovered a nextel two-way and managed to intercept a message," JJ began, handing each of us a piece of paper, when she stopped Emily.

"That's not the transcript, it's-" She began, but Emily stopped her.

"No, it's in Arabic," She stated.

"Uh, our friends surprised us and eloped, we can no longer wait for the wedding as planned, we can deliver our gift at the next crescent." She said, oblivious to everyone's stares and gaping jaws. She looked up, as embarrassment flushed over her cheeks. I was in awe.

"I lived in several middle eastern countries growing up," She mumbled. This woman really was full of surprises, wasn't she? You didn't know what you were feeling, but as soon as you met those dark brown eyes you knew there was something different about her. I placed my hand on her thigh, reassuring her. She smiled gently in return, placing her hand delicately on top of yours, squeezing it gently. You were secretly praying that she would be your new field partner, but knowing Hotch and his trust issues, she probably wouldn't even fly with us.

You all returned to your desks, as Hotch and Gideon stood in his office doorway, quite obviously discussing Emily.

"Jason, this is an interrogation, not a training exercise." Hotch said sternly.

"She's the only member fluent in Arabic," Gideon countered.

"There's other translators," Hotch replied. You and Emily both glanced up from your desks.

"They haven't studied behavior," Gideon rebutted again.

"Does she even have her ready bag yet?" Hotch asked. At this, I noticed Emily duck beneath her desk, fumbling about.

"My guess is there isn't much that woman's unprepared for," Gideon said. Just as the words left Gideons' mouth, Emily re-emerged from below her desk, sliding her packed ready bag onto the table, standing awkwardly next to it. You couldn't help but giggle at her, which caught her attention.

"What," She grinned.

"Nothing, it- it's just your cute, that's all," You smiled back, causing her to blush. You had no idea where your boldness was coming from, but you weren't lying - she was cute...

"Prentiss, Y/L/N, you're flying with Gideon to Guantanamo, car leaves in 4 minutes." Hotch stated.

"Yes sir," You both replied, Emily struggling to hide her wide smile. She had the most amazing smile...

********************************

The team returned back from GTMO, after an exhausting few days. Thankfully, you were able to prevent the terrorist attack that Al Ikhteraa had planned, and everyone was headed to O'Keefe's for drinks. Hotch went straight home to Haley and Jack, and Gideon decided to skip. You were headed to your cars, when Emily stopped you right before you unlocked your door.

"Hey, Y/N wait up," She said, running over to you. You immediately felt your palms begin to sweat and your heart rate increase. You never expected to - but you liked her. A lot.

"Hey, I just wanted to say thank you," She began.

"Thank you? For what?" You said, letting out a confused giggle. She smiled back, sending the butterflies in your stomach crazy..

"Oh, just helping me settle in the last few days,and being the most awesome field partner I could've asked for, having my back and all," She continued. "I know it couldn't have been easy, you know, they told me you were close with Agent Greenaway," She said. Oh my god - you'd gone the whole week without thinking about Elle once. Were you finally moving past her?

"Uh- Uh yeah, yeah, she was my best friend." I replied, looking at the ground.

"I'm sorry, that must've been difficult," She said, grabbing your arm, the physical contact sending chills down your spine. Screw it. You had had a great week despite your first ideas, and you were feeling bold.

"I wanted to hate you so badly," You began, catching her off guard. "I wanted to hate you, because you were replacing Elle, because I knew that you joining the team would make me have to accept that my best friend was gone, and never coming back." She tightened her grip on your arm, softly stroking it with her thumb.

"But as soon as we first spoke, I knew there was something about you that I couldn't quite put my finger on. And as the week went on, I only became more sure." You continued, smiling at her, making her blush.

"Sure of what?" She questioned, nervously giggling.

"Sure that I wanted to do this..." You hummed, before grabbing her waist and pulling her close to you, then gently placing your lips on hers. You panicked when you didn't feel her kiss back initially, but were reassured when you felt her tongue brush over your bottom lip. You started slow, but things progressed fairly quickly and she took control, pushing you flush against your car. She let out a few faint groans of pleasure, before you pulled away for air, grinning from ear to ear, feeling like you were going to burst with happiness.

"You still wanna get drinks?" She whispered.

"I have other plans in mind, if you'd like to join me," You winked, before unlocking your car.

"I'd love to," She replied, jumping in the passenger side. The whole car journey home was filled with stolen glances and wandering hands, and when you finally arrived at your apartment, you could barely contain yourselves. Lips met, clothes were ripped from each other, and you spent the night exploring every inch of each other. You both knew then that this was the beginning of a beautiful adventure...

#emily prentiss x reader #emilyprentiss #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss x female reader #bau team #wlw

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robinsdearest · 3 years

Text

Quick Enemy Patch Up

Jason Todd x Reader

[Totally and utterly based on this TikTok I saw the other day]

You slump against the brick wall. It’s not as comfortable as you’d hoped it would be, but it’ll have to do for now. One hand attempts to dust off the rest of your costume as the other applies pressure to the ever-quickly bleeding stab wound in your abdomen.

You thought of yourself as a lowly, blue-collar criminal only good for the occasional museum robbery or as a beneficiary gala jewel thief. You always worked solo, had the occasional police run-in, and more often than not, you were met by other Gotham vigilantes trying to catch you. Nothing could surprise you after being in the game for as long as you had been. At the very least, you should have expected a job gone wrong would have ended with a Black Skull goon tying up loose ends.

You close your eyes and sigh thinking about what went wrong. The ache in your bones and the pounding in your head stole the thoughts away- everything was getting blurry at this point. Breathing was getting difficult, and you really wondered if someone would find your cold body in the morning.

A slight thud has your eyes shooting open, and your free hand goes to the blade you were carrying. Even though you’re wincing in pain, you lean forward to watch a figure emerge from the blackness of the alley.

“My, my, what do we have here?” The voice mocks as it makes its way towards you. You slightly relax and drop the knife as the dim light reflects off your company’s helmet.

“Red Hood, I didn’t take you as someone to ask stupid questions.” The two of you had a long history of run-ins. He always seemed to be the one to keep you from obtaining your best items. Most of the time, he’d have you in situations pretty similar to this one. He was your very own public enemy number one.

The man with the hood laughs again; he’s gotten close enough to where he squats just above your sprawled out legs. He takes a gloved finger to lift your chin and examine your face.

“Looks like someone could use some help.” With the pop of the last word, he flicks your chin down. You wish you had more energy to snap back- you didn’t need his help. The snarl you pull does nothing to deter the man. “I don’t plan on knocking someone while they’re down, sweetheart.” He reaches over with one hand to support your upper back and another to lift up your legs. You attempt to struggle against his hold on you at first, but exhaustion soon takes over- you pass out from blood loss before the two of you can exit the alley.

_________________________

The smell of something cooking has you slowly waking up. Consciousness comes to you all at once; glancing around, you realize you’re on a couch in what appears to be an apartment. Your immediate thought is that it looks like it came right out of 1980’s furniture magazine.

Rising up on your elbows, you notice the TV playing a movie you’ve never seen before, a coffee table littered in medical supplies, and an empty wall where you can hear a radio playing behind it. Inch by inch you move the rest of your body until you’re upright. Your entire body seems to be bandaged- there’s a dull ache where your open wound should have been, and you are definitely in clothes that do not belong to you. You get to your feet by holding yourself up on the couch arm. You limp to the wall where you regain a hold to keep yourself standing. Beyond the wall where the music is playing, there’s a dining table with your costume and cowl. Next to it, a dazzling red helmet.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to wake up that quickly. I was hoping to finish cooking before you woke.” The man’s voice startles you, and flight instincts have you scan the area for your quickest escape route. Spotting a door, you make a run for it. However, the attempt is pathetic, and the fast movement has you face first in the carpet. You cry out in pain as you feel something along your side tear. You hear a string of curses before strong hands are lifting you. “What in the hell was that for? I just patched you up.”

The man places you in a chair at the dining table. He goes back towards the living room and returns with the medical supplies you saw before. He squats next to you and starts to raise your shirt. He tries to fully take it off of you, so you swat his hands away. You’re met with deep blue eyes, and you finally get a good look at the man trying to help you. You let him pull off your shirt while you continue to take in his features: thick black hair, slight freckles across his nose, broad shoulders, and incredibly large hands that seem to work so delicately. A comfortable silence settles between you as he works to fix the stitches you reopened. He finishes and sets the sutures on the table before he speaks.

“You were barely conscious and almost dead when I found you. I hope you realize that, darling.”

“You didn’t have to help me, Hood. I was doing fine by myself.” The man scoffs in response.

“Fine? You almost bled out before I even got you back here.” He gestures to the apartment and looks down to your costume. He taps your forehead. “And besides, now I know what you look like behind the mask. And you can say the same for the man behind the hood.”

He walks back to the kitchen to finish the cooking he had started earlier. You attempt to pull the shirt back over your head, but fail. You forgo the shirt, and only an instance later is the Red Hood walking back to you with plates in hand. He sits next to you, hands you a fork, places the plate in front of you, and begins eating.

“Jason.” It’s simply stated in-between bites. The name seems like it fits well.

“Y/N,” you reply. He hums, glances at you, and finishes off his plate. Once you finish your food, he takes the plates back into the kitchen. After he returns, he picks you up again to carry you back to the couch. Jason cleans your abdomen wound, and then begins working on your other bandages. He takes off several wrappings of gauze and seems to stall his movements as he stares at your exposed back.

“Who did this to you?” For a moment, you hear a touch of concern in Jason’s voice. The thought invites butterflies to your stomach.

“Well, most of these are from you, remember?” In your mind, you whack yourself. What kind of flirting was that?

“Ah, yes. That I did.” His breath hits at the top of your ear- he’s so close, you can feel the warmth radiating off his skin. “But I’m not talking about old scars, beautiful. I’m talking about who almost put my favorite thief into the ground tonight.”

You ignore most of his words. “Oh, I’m your favorite thief? I didn’t think you could continue to scar someone you would label as a favorite night after night.” You didn’t mean that to come off as harsh as it did, but Jason only chuckled. His breath continued to tickle your ear.

“Don’t get too defensive on me now. I just want to make sure I’m the only one in Gotham giving you things like this to remember me by.”

His hands begin to explore your back, landscaping all the muscles and marks he could see. You shiver as Jason traces his finger along a thin, white line right in the center of your back.

“That was from uh- um..” And your voice trails off as his hand continues to roam your body.

Jason chuckles. “You don’t have to remind me, darling. I remember.”

You grin. “That hurt like a bitch. Took me days to get back to the streets.” You turn around so that you are seated facing him. When you finally get situated, there’s a smile plastered on his face that makes your heart flutter and would have made your knees week.

“Oh you think that one hurt?” Jason’s eyes dart from your own to your lips. He begins to reveal a piece of skin under his shirt. “Take a look at this one.”

You slowly raise your fingers to reached out and trace along the jagged scar that you gave to him months ago. A jagged line across his collarbone that was still raised and pink. You puff out air through your nose humorously.

“Jason, what have we been doing to ourselves?” He adjusts his shirt and he shrugs.

“I think it’s called just business.” His lips turn into a smirk as he glances over at your half-naked body. “I’ve never been one to mix work and pleasure.”

“In your dreams, Red Hood,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

“How did you know I dream about you?”

Your face immediately turns red: this guy was too much. His following laugh is whole-body and deep, yet he lets you playfully punch his arm. You can’t help yourself but smile. Your once least favorite vigilante had you in a puddle in his apartment. No masks, no facades, no crime fighting, even if just for a night. Maybe the Red Hood would be your enemy turned ally, or possibly even more.

************

[AN: please please please go back and watch the video linked above. I want to give credit to the one who made the TikTok, but I couldn’t find them on here.]

#jason todd x reader #red hood #jason todd #red hood fanfic #dc fanfic #robinsdearest

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