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katherinadeluca · 3 years ago

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III- P U B L I C N I C E T I E S

*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。

TW: Adult Dialogue, Mentions of Substance, Sexual References, Mature Themes

*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。

"Seriously Aiden, shut the fuck up." Cassy groans, scowling at her timetable.

"What?! I have not more then two classes with the two of you on Tuesdays! You really think I can go the entire day with Rosalind Vane trying to snog me all the time."

"She really needs to sort out her priorities. Doesn't she." Gloria pitched in as she sips the remainder of her tea.

"That she does."

"Right, as I was saying-"

"Aiden, seriously. If you don't shut the fuck up, I'm going to impale your skull with a fucking butter knife-"

"Drugs," Aiden tuts, shaking his head in mock disappointment, "they'll make you say things you don't mean."

Eight in the fucking morning and this lot has already burnt one.

"You better run, Griffiths," Cass warns, casting a threatening gaze upon the boy.

The rest of it is drowned in a periodically clangorous ding-ding-ding resonating from the bell tower, causing Gloria to withdraw from the Great Hall in a successful attempt to eschew from her best company that was now engaging in spice-intoxicated banter.

As the Slytherin turns the corner to another corridor her body abruptly collides with an indurated façade, sending half her books to the floor.

Did I turn too early and walk into a fucking wall? Again?

"Apologies."

Never mind that. Not a wall. Walls don't apologize.

She scrambles for her scattered belongings. Profuse apologies spill from her lips and onto the concrete below as a result of her lowered visage. "Oh my devil, I am so very sorry. I wasn't looki- Oh." her gaze casted upwards only to find a certain platinum blonde. It would have been a casual mistake if it weren't for him towering above her with her practically on her knees, face-to-face with his belt buckle as she looked at him with a kind of subtle trance.

Great. Just fucking great. Is this my bad karma finally coming back around? Unlikely. I don't think bad karma looks like Draco Malfoy.

Minutes later, she pulls herself off the floor, only to realize that in an act of haste, their forms were closer then anticipated and their lips; inches apart, The position would have looked rather... intimate from a third perspective if it weren't for him clearing his throat and taking a step back.

"Miss Lightwood, you must perhaps appeal to your class." He says, straightening his black tie. "I highly doubt your professor appreciates tardiness." The subtle dominance in his husky voice caused her to fist the spines of her textbooks and her thighs to go unnervingly rigid.

He eases into the opposite direction in long, perfect strides. Leaving her standing there to think about the interaction. Her mind races. A flurry of question flood her brain.

What in the actual fuck just perspired?

*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。

Taking her seat in the last bench, she let out an unsteady breath in a desperate exertion to calm her racing heart that would most likely beat out of her ribcage. The hasty pace from the astronomy tower to the potions classroom would've been tiring enough but given the interaction with Draco prior to her Astronomy class along with the unnerving effect he had on her, the Slytherin was positively breathless and oxygen seemed to be a momentary luxury.

The slow, deep intakes of air would have aided if it weren't for the heavy door swinging open, resulting in the excited chatter to get instantaneously shot down and everyone's gaze to take a keen interest on the devilishly handsome man who had just happened to appear at the entrance of the dim classroom classroom.

Oh for fuck's sake. I'm swearing off sex for the rest of my life if my drunken lapses in judgment continue to come back as my fucking professors.

"I shall start the class by introducing myself. My name, is Draco Malfoy. You will be addressing me as Professor Malfoy." He said, loud enough for every single on of them to hear as he took to his desk in the front of the class, making the words 'Draught of the Living Dead' appear on the black board with a swish of his wand.

Dramatic little shit.

"The Draught of the Living Dead, a potion to put the drinker into an irreversible slumber. Exceptionally tricky to brew and disastrous should you get it wrong. Page 394, the instructions," he continues, "Anyone's potion less then an 'Exceeds Expectations' will have a month of detention with Filch." His voice; a steady baritone, sharp and condescending. A huge contrast to the deadly silence that hung thickly between each singularity of attenders.

The class was patently intimidated- impressed and entranced- but intimidated none the less. The man was subduing, no doubt in it. His aura clouded with hues of bruising purple and crepuscular viridian.

"Quit staring. We haven't got all day." He scolded which caused the entire class to scramble towards the potions cabinet, leaving Gloria sat in her seat with her hand raised.

"Yes, Miss Lightwood?" Professor addressed, his tone slightly softer but the strictness still prevalent none the less. He was now sitting in his chair, feet propped up on one another, in a casual cross. Vertebrae rested on the pillowy spine of the chair as he leaned against it, expertly maneuvering his wand between his slender digits- a fidgetive habit he has grown accustomed to.

"Sir, I don't have a copy of the text." She lets out, calmly.

"I haven't got a spare. Use mine." He replies, gesturing to the slightly worn copy of Advanced Potion Making that sat almost tauntingly on his desk.

Her legs slowly carry her up to the teacher's podium, his eyes not leaving hers for a second till her hands had touched the book. Gloria breathes a small sigh, gently picking up the item as though it were a delicate artifact. He watched her handle it with such care that his heart clenched. Her willowy fingers lightly trace the length of the books' spine.

Her warm sepia gaze lands upon him one again, scanning his beautiful visage and for a moment- just for a moment- she swore his eyes flickered to her lips which were nervously trapped between her teeth...

*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。*★,°*:.☆:*.°★* 。

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replicantdeviancy · 1 year ago

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The seconds that passed as the text on his screen went from delivered to read felt like a small eternity. Connor had been watching the message page so intently, his heart skipped a beat when its status changed. It had been received. Eventually, James would appear & immediately the detective was stressing over how he wanted to appear upon their second meeting. Did he want to go up to the door & wait like a shy teen picking up his crush for a date? Or sit expectantly in the car like some type of pretty faced bad boy? Neither were really his style - as if he'd dated enough to have one - but eventually he came to settle back in his seat & politely wait for his date to emerge from the admittedly quaint little house. Threadbare minutes went by, barely any time at all, yet it was enough for Connor to scrutinize every little thing he could, any potentially perceivable flaw.

Maybe he should have taken his car to the wash first? Did he have any old case files stashed in the glovebox or behind his seat? He had purposefully left his badge & service weapon at home, desperate to himself disconnect from his work, if only for the night. Was the priest going to care about any of the silly little details? Realistically, no. This wasn't some boy or girl his own age that Connor was intent on cavorting about town with. James was older, matured & aged like fine wine, with more than enough fire left in him to keep up with the much younger cop. Connor told himself that he needn't worry, that the critical thoughts intruding upon his peace were the product of unnecessary anxiety.

As soon as the door to the little home opened & the priest appeared, all disquieted musings running through his mind immediately ceased. For that brief instance, there was nothing & nobody else. Dressed in something a little more relaxed, yet no less immaculate, the priest gave off an aura about him that just screamed silver fox. The younger man couldn't help staring dumbly as he approached, & soon enough, the handsome gentleman that looked like some charming prince from his teenage fantasies was settling into the passenger seat of his car. Face to face once again, it wasn't more than a scant moment before James was expressing his endless wit. It broke Connor from his silently stupefied staring as a laugh was easily drawn from him, a goofy grin warming his features . Without fail, the older man banished his self-criticizing thoughts & effortlessly stole all of his attention. It wasn't something the detective was used to, but he wanted to try. That kind of calm felt nice.

"Well, hello to you, too, handsome," came his own cheeky remark in greeting, his expression softening to a dreamy little smile that played upon his doll-like lips. Head tilted, laid back against the headrest as soft, rich brown eyes watched ocean hues, trying to gauge him. But all he could think about was the color in perfect contrast with graying black, how vibrant they were in the natural light of the early evening. Beautiful. James had arguably won the genetic lottery; handsome , brilliantly smart. Connor knew he was helpless to disguise how smitten he was by the way he looked at the man, even as he teased him right back, meeting him beat for beat. "Who says I don't have flowers waiting in the back seat?” An obvious jest - the little electric was a two seater vehicle. But the mock offense that momentarily washed over his pretty visage was just as devilishly cheeky as it was teasing. A second later, he was all fond smiles & affection again , glad to drink in those sweet compliments.

Hardly ego tripping. There was a soft sincerity to the older man's words that warmed the detective, made him really believe that every bit of it was true. While he didn't necessarily agree that he would go breaking anyone's heart with his boyish good looks , the European had a way about him that made Connor feel beautiful. His gaze lowered in a coy instance, thick lashes partially obscuring the view of those richly hued irises. “I wanted to look nice for you. I thought that you deserved something pretty to look at." Now his voice returned to that soft, almost sultry tone, though the faint hints of shyness never left the dusky intonations. His gaze returned to that of the priest, one side of his mouth quirking up into a delicate smile. “You though… You look just as incredible as I remember.” & he meant it. James looked wonderful, just as handsome & suave as before, though the new attire he wore offered a different kind of intrigue.

That wasn't to say that the older man had looked stuffy at all, dressed as prim & proper as he had been for church. Far from it. Connor wondered if there was ever a time in which James ever appeared anything less than well put together, or if he were really just as infallible as he seemed. Of course, Connor didn't spare him a moment without taking an opportunity to flirt. "I almost miss that— You know, the collar. But I'm appreciating the appeal of a little clavicle on display." His eyes darted towards the hint of chest barely hidden away, letting out a silly little laugh as he slipped his seatbelt back on & started the car with a press of the pushbutton ignition. There was barely a sound as the electrical system engaged, the only indication it was even on being from the screen at the center of the dash & the instrument panel coming to life.

It seemed that James wasn't the only one eager to go, though it wasn't for any reason besides wanting to enjoy his time with the older man. Connor wanted to see the priest relaxed, in his own element & not tied to duty or obligation. It was clear to the both of them that each took their professions quite seriously, but outside of the shackles of professionalism, they could be entirely themselves. Connor wanted to see that. He also wanted to get the man talking. James was so much more full of life experience. The detective expected he had lived a rather interesting life, rich with knowledge of so many things the younger had never heard of before. He felt he could listen to the priest speak for hours, & that was what he was intent on doing.

"Didn't stay at the precinct long. I may have snuck out…" A simple shrug, almost flippant in nature. Naughty thing. Connor wasn't always such a stickler for the rules, especially when he had other plans in mind. Besides that, he doubted very much that the priest could tire him out. Setting the car into gear, he glanced towards his date with a quiet enthusiasm that was bubbling beneath the surface. “So. Where are we going?”

There were times when James needed reminding that he was only human. Standing firmly in between Heaven and Hell, between angels and demons and all else that walked the Earth's soil, was it any wonder why he often forgot that he was simply a man? Not because he thought himself higher, or even lower, but the simple fact that he still needed to look after himself, still needed to eat, sleep and everything else that so many took for granted, that came so easily and naturally to them. It hadn't taken long for him to drift into bad habits, missing meals, grabbing barely a handful of hours sleep, pushing himself as he exercised just to have something else to focus on for a while. The burn of his muscles, the ache of them, it was something to think about, something to distract him from all the otherworldly and unworldly concerns that rattled around inside his head.

It was days like today that he welcomed most, not the investigation part, which was just a part of the norm for him, but getting to meet someone who tugged at his thoughts, drew him away from his fears and that never-ending feeling as if he were swallowed whole by the very darkness he so desperately fought against. The American was fascinating, intelligent, well-spoken, a good conversationalist, it seemed, what else did someone like James need to squirrel him away for a few beautiful hours? He certainly wouldn't gripe about the fact that Connor was rather handsome as well, a face that the Brit could imagine all manner of people, and otherwise, most likely, who would happily squeeze those cheeks in their hands and gaze into those hazel eyes. Dirty old man, he thought to himself, though it was hardly outright self-depreciation when he couldn't quite hold back one of his sly smiles at the mere thought of it. Why not indulge himself a little? Enjoy his time while he still had some before he finally became some grumpy old man who'd sit in his house all day and complain about modern music and how people were dressed these days at an ageing cat and dog. Some of that didn't sound entirely unwelcome, mainly the latter part, just another hope of his that when everything was said and done, he could sit back and enjoy the innocent company of some pets.

How wonderfully simple it seemed, so -- - normal. One could only hope.

No, for now, that was all he was, just some bloke going out on a date, no angel on his shoulder, no demon whispering in his ear, not even a priest and a detective, it was just him and Connor. Pausing by the mirror of one of the wardrobes, there he was again, that old silver-haired man staring back at him, a tiredness about him that seemed to stay regardless of how long he slept. Not that he managed much anyway, if he was able to get a solid eight hours, he was more than happy. Where had all that time gone? Would Connor have preferred him when he'd been a young man himself? That dark-haired lad without a lick of shame in him. Maybe that part hadn't quite left him, but now he held an air of wisdom that he hadn't back then, purely from lack of experience, he'd still been so new to the supernatural world, thrown in the deep end and expected to wade his way through from there. But he'd still enjoyed himself, still snuck out in the middle of the night during seminary school, escaping the dorms to meet with his friends and go to the pub, parties, whatever they could find or put together and spend the night dancing, singing and drinking, until the wee hours of the morning and James had to sneak his way back inside and try to sleep off some of the merriness in a few hours or so. If even that.

Needless to say, there had been times when he'd been caught. Once when he was halfway through a basement window, one leg in, one out and Fr. Larraby stood there eyeing him with disappointment and disgust as the scent of alcohol and cigarettes emanated from the Northerner. Even now, James couldn't help but laugh at the memory, not regretting it then and not regretting it now. Would Connor even look at that young man? Would they more than likely find themselves on opposing sides? James being dragged into the police station in handcuffs after being found wandering the streets with his friends as they drunkenly sang at the top of their lungs? He'd never been picked up like that back in the day, but he imagined things would be rather different now, rules felt stricter, people had less patience in some cases and for all sorts of reasons. Some reasonable, some not. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like growing up nowadays in comparison to what he'd known.

There it was again, that twinge of old age nagging at him.

Shaking it off with a literal shake of his head, he studied himself in the mirror, focusing on what he was wearing right down to his socks and shoes which he pulled on. Yet as he did so, a noise came from his phone, a text, which meant it wasn't some sort of emergency that was about to ruin his entire evening. Most of his peers knew that if they needed to contact him, it was best to phone him when it was something immediate, otherwise he took a far more lax approach in general. Unless he was expecting something, of course. Which he was at that moment, wondering if it really was Connor or just another scam text coming through in the hopes that he'd click some dodgy link. Moving with purpose, the Englishman grabbed his mobile from the bed, a wide grin enveloping his expression at the familiar number that came up. It was him.

It was now or never. Taking in a breath, James glanced around to make sure he had everything he needed, phone, wallet, keys, that was all he could really think of, all he could imagine needing. Quickly moving to the front door, that smile claimed him again as he opened it, sighting what he presumed to be the detective's car before he was able to see him inside it. He locked the house, checking the door handle just to be sure, it wasn't his house after all, the last thing he wanted was for it to be ransacked while he was away. A burglar would likely be rather confused by the contents though, it wasn't every day someone broke into a house and found holy water, books on demons and everything any other priest could possibly need or think of.

"No box of chocolates or bouquet of roses? I'm disappointed." The man uttered as he opened the car and slid inside, offering a faux huff of annoyance. "Suppose you'll just have to make it up to me some other way then." That wry smile settled again, spreading into a full-on grin as his tongue slid along his upper row of teeth with genuine amusement. He wasn't being serious, of course. He didn't expect a thing from anyone for any reason, even a date, or whatever label could be stamped on to the evening ahead of them. Settling himself, he pulled on his seatbelt before finally taking a moment to look at Connor, really look at him. "Well, don't you clean up nice?" Not that he'd been a mess before but James couldn't resist teasing him a little anyway. "Very handsome... break a lot of hearts with that gorgeous face of yours. It's a wonder I'm not fighting off potential suiters at this very moment." Admittedly, that was partly true, he genuinely wouldn't expect someone of Connor's visage and standing to be interested in a greying middle-aged man rather than a flock of youngsters around his own age and creed, not that he was going to complain about it.

"Paperwork didn't wear you out too much, I hope?" He asked as he sat back more comfortably, more than a little energised by the other man's presence and being so close to him again. This time without their jobs looming over them. For the most part. "Wouldn't want to be put to shame by an old man, now would we?"

#cheekypriest #˾ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ & ᴄɪɢᴀʀᴇᴛᴛᴇꜱ ̚ ;; ⁱ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰʸ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁱ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵉ.▐ ᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ #Had a thought about when Connor has to arrest James.#Takes him to the station in his car. He purposely doesn't mirandize him.#So that anything he says to him is not permissible in court. Protective boy.#He may absolutely have a cigarette. Connor won't mind at all.

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xtattybye · 3 years ago

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STARTER FOR @FAYOFAVALON

“ My god, it reeks to death in here… ” Reaver murmured. A rather dramatic more than audible exhalation tirelessly emits midst a rolling of his eyes as he sticks the dragonstomper.48 back to its holster. His deep brown eyes then briefly hover at the blood that still gushes out of the newly digged fatal hole in the back of one of staff' head, who of course had been shot by no one else than Reaver simply because no one could ever get their heads around his ridiculously unpredictable and immoral rules. A sight so gruesome, yet enough to spark that smug smirk that seems to forever linger onto Reaver's devilishly handsome visage, now an indirect indication to his inner masochism. “ Oh don't look at me like that! ” He snapped, baring his front brilliant white teeth by raising his upper lip in a muted diva snarl. “ I told you not to bring me that wine, specifically… the obsolete vin ordinaire. My what a disaster that one is, how dare you hurt my feelings like that, thinking I would even bare the smell of such a peasant' beverage. Yuck! ” Reaver then carelessly stepped over the butler's corpse as he snaps his fingers to command one of his maids to clean up the mess he just made whilst he just stood there balancing on his golden cane, checking his nails and living in his full queer diva rich bitch moment. “ Oh by the way, I'm taking myself on a little holiday starting today. I want this manor to be all neat and tidy once I return, no finest of little tiny particles wasting my expensive floors. Oh and refill all rooms their storage compartments with some condoms, there have been enough little accidents knocking on my door so far and I'm way too much on a budget these days to be paying any child support. Not that it's much of a budget, I just don't like to see some peasant use my well-earned money on something as idle as a piece of bread. Very well then, I'll be back in one month, perhaps two if this new world keeps me interested. Make sure everything I've written down on this list will be done in perfect form and don't you dare forget getting me those 1.2 million golden toilet paper rolls. ” And just like that, Reaver waved his staff a tattybye before disappearing out of his study, having taken his favorite maid called Misa along to be his pack mule as they both headed out of the manor into the forest. It was quite a bit of a walk to get to the shore where they could sail his ship to some island he once discovered back in the pirate days. But luckily for Reaver, he didn't have to carry any of his unnecessary stuff as his maid was doing all the work for him. Even though she was the only maid whom he considered somewhat close enough to consider a friend, he'd still treat her just as equal as the rest, even after they had shared quite the conversations and nights together; he liked to keep her anywhere but near getting her hopes up, as considering him anything more than just her master would be one big no go.

The ship sailed off to the island that'd eventually make a start to his holiday. He was in desperate need of a new world, not only to explore and learn new things, but to escape his past also. Albion always held certain memories in the back of his head which he'd find harder and harder to escape with just some wild partying. Sometimes he needed to change up his surroundings completely and what better way to do it than to travel to a whole other world? He never believed that portals where a real thing, not until he came across one himself and this was the first time he'd be taking Misa to another world with him. Not that he'd expect her to survive in it, not without him. She was fragile, both physically and mentally. But what he didn't know was that when it'd really come to it, she'd have quite the surprise for both of them, perhaps the entire kingdom, as she had yet to discover herself that she was the missing princess of Albion. Amnesia still had her in its grip and King Logan and everyone else probably thought that she had long been dead after Logan had gotten rid of her when she was younger, not knowing that she had found her way into Reaver Industries before becoming his headmaid.

After a while sailing, the island slowly made its presence known before them as Reaver would sail further towards it. Eventually as they arrived, he was quick to be the first to set foot onto the land and didn't waste mere second on waiting for Misa to catch up on him as he'd find his way towards the entrance of a cave. Misa had been trying to catch up on him by running as fast as her legs could take her while carrying all of his stuff, the poor maid was out of breath once they finally arrived and yet still would have to follow him around the cave not to get lost. Normal people would already have quit working for him and prefer death over slavery, but in her case the poor girl had fallen in love with her master, thinking she could find the good in him and change him. But that was something Reaver would never allow to happen, not even when there was a time where he too felt something for her. But that was something he's kept a secret for a long time now and feelings exist to be suppressed.

Finally after going through this maze of a cave they arrived at the portal. And of course Reaver had to be the one to get through first, with Misa hurriedly following him to the new world; Camelot.

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bluestringpudding · 4 years ago

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Dear Diary...

Today I remembered that a while ago I wrote this nonsense for a reddit prompt that has since been deleted (sad times) but was along the lines of "Tom Riddle used the diary like any other normal teenager would."

Dear Diary,

I fear that today I may have made a grevious error. There I was, walking along the third floor corridor busy with my thoughts of world domination and immortality when who should approach me but a filthy Mudblood.

But not any filthy mudblood, oh no, the one with the cutest little button nose I told you about last month that I decided I would show benevolent mercy to when the Mudblood day of reckoning came.

Well, so engrossed in my evil plans was I, that I walked straight into her! But here we come to the crux of my heinous crime. I became so distracted by that adorable noggin of hers that I seem to have lost control of my tongue.

I apologised dear Diary - to a Mudblood.

I am so ashamed that I may never be able to look my fellow Slytherins in the face again.

As I write I realise there is only one course of action. To denounce all noses from henceforth. I shall work tirelessly until my nose is no longer casting its long shadow, even if it does wreak havoc on my devilishly handsome visage. Then I once I have completed my world domination I will ban all noses so that no one have to face such humiliation again.

Yours mortified,

The Noseless Lord

#hp #tom riddle #lord voldemort #harry potter microfic #crack #diary #Tom Riddle was an angsty teenager too #he took it too far

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dreadpiratejones · 11 months ago

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@travelingthroughworlds

ONCE UPON A TIME 6.04, Strange Case

#devilishly handsome (visage)#bookish beauty (belle)

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rokachan · 4 years ago

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New Years Kiss

Fluffy ears fanned at the sound of footsteps, head tilting to peer in the direction the came. A blonde, tall (though nearly everyone was tall to the waif), with... Sunglasses? That seemed peculiar for the evening setting and festivities.

She had certainly seen stranger things though, and some people did so enjoy their mystery.

She might have entirely dismissed his existence if not for catching that which sat upon his brow. Pale eyes narrowed and hackles rose, the creature drawing herself up to her full and unimpressive height as she drew her lips into a thin line.

Evidently her attention on the man was mistaken in intent, and he swerved to plant a quick kiss in passing as bells rang to announce the start of a new turn. Clearly she was sulking because there was no devilishly handsome and mechanically brilliant body about to kiss her upon the new year! A favour had been done!

The catte did not see it that way, a hiss thrown at his retreating visage as she scrubbed the sleeve of her shirt across her lips and spun her attention elsewhere, trying to recall who she had summoned as her guard for tonight so that she might tear into them for slacking so horrifically in their duty.

#ask answered #roka #thank you for the ask!!! <3 #went with nero out of the options I saw you write #because he seemed the most likely to smooch a stranger

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leonicscorpio · 4 years ago

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The Visit: A Jason Todd x Reader Fic

For @nat-wing . One of my best friends, one of my guiding lights, and the person who dragged me into Batman hell. Enjoy.

"Human kindness, gentlemen, is made for the purses of millionaires. With financial power like mine, you can afford yourself a new world order..."

*THUD*

The sound of a backpack crashing next to you jolted you out of the line of the play you were reading. Raising your head to see the source of the noise, you met eyes with your new friend, Jason. Jason Todd.

"What's wrong, y/n, you look like you just saw a ghost" Jason let out, immediately following with a light chuckle and a half-smile. Taking seat next to you at the park bench, Jason started to open up the backpack, revealing a copy of the same book you had. The Visit by Friedrich Durrennmat.

"So, how do you like it thus far?" Jason inquired. You took a look up towards his face and despite his chisled facial features, the thing that always caught your attention were his eyes. The striking sapphire blue eyes allured as much as it frightened. Beneath the mask of the handsome face of the playboy heir of the Wayne Conglomerate and adoptive son of Bruce Wayne hid a maelstrom. A violent sea of torrential anger and oppressive hatred. His eyes have always frightened you, but you never judged Todd for anything because he's always treated you with the respect you've afforded him.

"It's interesting Jason" you let out. You couldn't help but be intimidated by his presence. Here you are, a lonely bachelor living in a converted tenament in Gotham City, a barista, reading a Swiss play with one of Gotham's biggest socialites. Jason came into your cafè seemingly every day, mentioned how the espresso is his favorite in all of Gotham. Some days he came in for a quick coffee run, dressed to the bones like he's about to attend a charity event, others he came in and sat down, getting lost in a book, wearing sweatpants and a signature red or black hoodie.

"Only interesting?" Jason had inquired. Indeed, The Visit had been a fascinating, but difficult read. Following the story of an eclectic billionairess in her twilight years named Claire Zachannasan, coming back to her home town hell bent on it's destruction and rebirth. You had just entered the play's third and final act when Jason arrived.

"In some ways, Claire reminds me of you Jason." You chuckle. You pay extra attention to see how his face reacts to such a bold statement. His face contorts into half-hearted shock, but his eyes are smiling. Prideful, it seems he got the results he wanted. You almost lost yourself in his handsome face with boyish hair when you felt the coastal winds of the park beach alongside the Gotham Oceanfront Jason had requested to meet you at.

"And what makes you say that?" Jason had pushed, bringing his arm away from the book and stretching it across to your side of the bench, his arm was extended behind your back and easily could have wraped one arm around you. And Jason's arms were quite large. Hell, the man himself almost came to challenge Bruce in terms of physique. All of his adoptive brothers were always the more slim, athletic, graceful builded ones. Jason was built like a statue, imposing muscles matched only with an imposing barrel of a chest. You thought to yourself what it would be like to feel those ripling muscles under his red hoodie and modestly branded jeans.

"Well, for starters, Claire is a billionaire, as are you." you said, noting Jason's left eyebrow cock, "well, heir to a billionaire in your case." You corrected. "There is a very pretinant theme of justice throughout the play. It's clear to tell that by using the power and wealth that she has aquired, Claire hopes to enact her own brand of justice." You had listed off. Looking to see Jason's response, you saw a smile begin to purse on his lips. This time of acceptance. It seems you gave Jason the satisfactory answer.

"Very good." Jason had smiled. "But, forgive me for asking, y/n, why do you think I care so much about justice?" Manipulation. Although you can tell Jason's interest and inquirery is genuine, you can tell he has ulterior motives in asking you this question. However you cannot ascertain why. You took a look in his eyes but only met the hurricane making landfall on a beach, threatening to consume all in it's might surge. His face is telling you to explain and ponder further, but his eyes indicate that of a predator about to snap at your jugular.

"I uh.. well." You stammered. Only soon to realize Jason had wrapped his arm securely around you, this gesture would have been romantic given any other context, but knowing what you know about Jason Todd and reading his mannerisms, you felt like a deer in headlights. You were frightened, but also enchanted. Jason's arm was heavy and strong, but not forceful, it was more securing than anything. It made you feel like you were protected from even Gotham's worst.

"Don't worry, y/n, I'm joking, I'm sorry if I intimidated you. But I'm glad you're liking the play, it became a favorite of mine recently." Jason stated.

"So you do relate to Claire." You poked, Jason had scoffed and retorted.

"I never said I did." Jason stated quite matter of factly. Having said that, Jason pulled you closer to him, to the point that your thighs were touching and you were pressed up against his side. You gave out a light gasp. Shocked at Jason's suddenness. "I'm hope I'm not making you uncomfortable, y/n." Jason apologized, the sincerity was genuine. Jason may have been able to play people like the fiddle, as you have seen from interactions at the cafè. However you sensed no malitious intent from the billionare. "I want you to know I like you a lot, y/n. You make the best Cafè Americcanos, and you actually listen to people when I reccomend 1950's swiss literature to them."

Hearing the last line made you laugh a little. You soon felt yourself subconsciously pressing laying your head along Jason Todd's powerful chest. It was just as you had imagined it. Powerful and secure. As you listened to his heart beat, you couldn't help but notice the extreme radiant warmth coming from Jason. With one arm wrapped around you, you felt like you had your own supersoldier their to protect you. "Thank you Jason, I like you a lot as well." You laugh as you made yourself comfortable enwraped in the massive man. To think you, a lonely kid from the suburbs found your way into the arms of one of the heirs of Wayne Enterprises. You, you felt like a nobody compared to Jason Peter Todd. However, one thing continued to bother you, and you wanted an answer.

"Jason, can I ask you something?" You had let into the atmosphere.

"Sure y/n, ask away." Jason had invited.

"Do you hate being a Wayne? Do you hate Bruce?" You raised your head to see the face not a couple inches in front of you and saw a crack in the visage. You made the mistake of focusing on his eyes again and realized just what you had done and what situation you landed yourself in. Beneath the mask you saw exactly what you had hypothesized. Inside the eyes of Jason Todd you saw rage. Hot, blinding, searing rage. You weren't in the arms of an angel any longer, you were in the claws of an apex predator.

"What." Jason had said blankly. It seemed his face alluded to more shock than anger. You craacked the façade and found what lies beneath, and you were afraid. However, curiosity forced you to try to dive deeper.

"To be candid with you, y/n, I do have a lot of anger towards my family, but at the end of the day, they are my family." Jason stated politically. You can tell this was a diversion to try to end the conversation. Realizing just the situation you were in it was for the best that Jason was giving you a get-out-of-Arkham-free-card. "But I will say, you are devilishly inquisitive y/n. How did you deduce that?"

"There's a lot of anger in your eyes Jason, you're bottling up a lot of anger and I don't think it can be healthy for you." You stated. You felt Jason give a hearty laugh as your head bounced from his chest. You didn't even take the opportunity to breath him in while you were down on his chest. The aromas of tobacco, dried sweat, and overtly expensive colonge studded with tonka and sandalwood tickled your nose.

"I guess you're right..." You can tell Jason had more he wanted to admit, but was interupted by the vibration of his phone. Taking a look to see who was calling. Jason let out a groan. You pushed yourself up off of his chest and gave Jason the space to answer the call in privacy.

'what is it Dick I'm busy... Really, now..? Ugh, fine. I'll be there in 10. Tell Bruce he owes me for this.' with that Jason ended the call and heaved himself off the park bench. "I'm so sorry Y/n but a family emergency came up." Jason said, as he made his way back towards the enterance of the park, you exchanged your farewell with the handsome man you just had an exchange with. Before you left, Jason had yelled out "you want an answer to your question? Keep reading the play." Jason had finished. Noting what he had said you opened The Visit back to the exact spot you had left off. As you finished the line by the elder Claire Zachannasan you felt ice run down your veins. Suddenly you felt an intense fear at the thought of Jason by this last sentence.

"The world turned me into a whore, so I shall turn the world into a brothel."

#jason todd #Batfam #Jason Todd x Reader #Smut #ahhsgshaksmdndj MY FIRST PUBLISHED FIC IN LIKE A DECADE WOW HUH.#The Visit by freidrich durrennmatt

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