#he sort of plays things safe. he wants to try things but hes convinced himself hes Okay where hes at so he dismisses the thought | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

timmydraker · 1 month ago

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CW: extremely dubious consent, assault and p3d0phillia (not romanticised), self-victimisation blaming, sui attempt. Be safe, be kind.

Tim’s parents mainly had a child for the financial gain as well as popularity.

As soon as Tim was born he was a beautiful and cute little thing that made all conversations at Galas and even and meetings start and flow with ease. People always complimented the bright young boy who could speak as well as a three year old after just turning two and had the cutest little walk in his tiny suit.

When he gets older, Tim understands this and knows that his role is to get deals and funding for his parents.

It’s never out right said, but they always treat him kinda and praise him when he scores them a deal of any kind.

So, he masters it. He learns what people prefer the sweet, endearing little boy and who prefers to see an upcoming business man. He figured out when to talk to a wife over a husband, when to not bother trying or when to be upfront with what he wants so he can get it.

It’s when he’s almost ten, wearing a new suit from a new designer his mother had started to prefer, that one of the older men give him a compliment that just sits wrong to Tim.

It takes him a while to figure it out, and when he does research on it and ends up finding a wiki article on how to tell if someone is attracted to you, he assumes that it’s completely normal. He guess the man thought he was cute like everyone else, but then he reads more.

It’s, quite unsurprisingly, a Reddit post about seduction that tips him off to what the man really wanted from him.

Tim, ever the researcher that he is at heart, properly learns everything he can about sex and seduction and tells himself it’s completely fine for him to do this both because it’s for the family business and he won’t actually have sex. He’s a kid, so they won’t really want him, right?

Of course this is the nativity of the child that he is talking and his still solid trust in humanity keeping him from seeing people for what they really are.

Tim meets Dr Hinders at the next Gala, the man who looked at him like a piece of candy, and gives him a charming little smile and casually touches his forearm like the articles suggested. He plays it off as nothing special outwardly, though he makes sure to leave his eyes lingering on the man’s mouth.

He doesn’t remember much of what actually happened, only entering a car and feeling warm caresses turn harsh and painful.

Tim lays in the man’s bed that night and finds that he hates himself more than the man who used him even as Tim started to push back. He blames himself for not being smarter, for not realising that if he could look at Tim that way, he could do far worse.

But then the man says to Tim, “I think I will endorse your parents, Timothy. You are… quite convincing.”

Tim hears the man’s sickening laugh and hates how success stirs in his gut. Dr Hinders in the lead researching of a project his father had been practically begging to be apart of and now he will.

Jack will be so happy with Tim.

As he is dropped off at home, he runs a icey bath and sobs to himself as he enters. His ass burns as much as his shame, his shoulders ach from where his arms were forced back, yet somehow worst of all is his hip. The hand shaped bruise is giant compared to his own, a brand of sorts to remind him that he handed himself over like a whore.

Yet Tim respects whores, because they need to do it to survive more often than not.

The next day his father picks him up and actually hugs him. Its the first time since he was three that it’s happened and Tim can’t even be in pain from the contact to his aches as he hears his father rant about how proud he is of his son, how he did so well and deserves to go out shopping for a camera.

Tim frowns at the mention of Dr Hinders asking if he could continue to have chats with Tim every now and again yet says yes just to make his father proud.

Janet stared at him all the while with a knowing look, one that screams years of painful experience and burden that she seems to recognise in him.

He pointedly ignores it and goes upstairs.

If Tim this is the result, his father’s love, Tim is going to have to keep doing this.

He just… needs to find a way where it won’t be as painful.

By the time Tim becomes Robin, he’s well known in the elite Gotham circle as ‘bunny’. Find him at an event and play your card right and he’ll come home with you and give you a night you’ll never forget, all you have to do is promise to send some money to his parents or pay for a trip for them.

Most of them pay for trips when they realise that Tim can stay for while nights if they’re away.

He’s eleven when he first goes to a man’s house, already crying silently as he prepped himself, and there’s three others waiting.

He doesn’t even try to back out and upon returning home the next day finds himself holding his head under the iced water a little longer than safe.

Tim doesn’t go through with it and instead goes bat watching.

He tells himself that he’s the one consenting, that it’s okay because he’s doing the seducing, and shoves down the voice that tells him that no amount of temptation should allow anyone older than him to give in to violating a child. He lies to himself about how he prefers it when they are rough and cruel so he can feel better shouting hating them, because the kind touches and longing looks he gets from the ones who let him take the lead make him feel like he is in control, like it could actually be okay, and he knows that it’s not.

It took him a while and soon it will be too late, he’ll be eighteen soon, but he does know that it’s fucked up.

He just ignores that because it makes his dad happy, even after he goes into a coma and remarries.

Somehow he managed to keep it hidden from Bruce for almost five years, but as usual, he finds out.

Tim doesn’t tell him, no he’d never be able to do that.

It’s none other than Dr Hinders.

Bruce host a Gala at the end of summer and winter every year, which is both she he stays relevant and so he doesn’t have to do multiple and not have as much time for Batman.

It’s at one of these Galas that he’s talking with a few men and Dr Hinders says, “You’re a lucky man Bruce, to have Tim with you all the time.”

Bruce smiles proudly as the other two men give each other looks, both knowing full well that Bruce Wayne doesn’t like their kind and probably doesn’t know what Hinders is referring to.

“I am indeed. He’s a smart lad, my Tim. Single handedly raised my company from the ground after my ah, relaxed nature.”

The two men laugh heartily and one manages to make an excuse, abandoning his friend who’s about to shit tears as Hinders leans forward and says, “I’d kill to have him all the time. You know I was his first?”

Bruce is a master of poker faces, he has to be with all the masks he owns in both a literal and metaphorical sense. But his expression still falters for a moment, eyes narrowing as a sick feeling build in his gut.

“What ever do you mean?”

The man besides them stares at the ground in pure fear, knowing that Bruce is one of the most powerful men and he’s been included in the many who took from his financial heir.

Hinders grins a sadistic thing and gives Bruce a look to say ‘oh come on’, “Now, Bruce. Someone had to break him in, teach him the ropes. How else would Jack and Janet get any funding if not for whoring out their son?”

Bruce feels the glass in his hand strain from his tight grip.

“I mean, he definitely had a lot of practice by the time I got to him a second time, but an ass like that comes naturally. Hey, was it you who bought him that red lace? Me and the boys at work still have a photo of him in it up in the lunch room-“

Dr Hinders isn’t ready for the punch Bruce lands on his face, square on his nose with a loud crunch.

A few people turn around and soon everyone is, only to be met with an image of Bruce Wayne that or a cult shows the rage boiling off of him and raining the air with a dangerous aura.

The way he growls is enough to shake the room, somehow worse than Batman’s voice, “everybody get the fuck out of my house.”

Some people get their things calmly and leave, but most hurry like the buildings on fire.

Dick and Damian, the only ones attending that night other than Tim, rush up to him and ask what happened but Bruce is too busy staring at his son across the room.

Tim is frozen, hands cupped to his chest and Bruce knows he heard everything just by the tears in his eyes and how he immediately starts repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over and over and over.

Bruce approaches him quickly but waits for Tim to move into his arms. He wraps his boy up and squeezes him tight, “it’s okay, my sweet. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. This isn’t your fault. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice.”

Dick is getting frustrated now, wanting to know what happened to his baby brother, yet when he hears Tim’s response his heart is too busy shattering apart.

“It is! I go to them, I let them fuck me so dad can get his deals! It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have done it in the first place but even then I kept going all for a dad who doesn’t love me. I hate it, I hate it so much but it’s what I’m good for!”

Bruce lets out a sob and moves to look at Tim, “No. No, don’t you dare say that. You are so much more, worth so much more than your body. You are my son, you are Red Robin, you are a brother and a grandson and you are so fucking special. I’m so sorry Tim, I’m sorry you feel that way but it’s okay, I’ll help you. Those men will never touch you again, I swear it.”

Tim breaks down and collapses into his father’s arms, sobbing and wailing years of abuse out.

Dick sobs too but manages to get through it enough to remove Damian from the situation even as the young boys eyes are filled with rage and concern for his brother.

It takes a while, mainly for Tim to chose that he will take the pity and blame from the masses if it means the men who hurt him will pay.

He gives a list to Bruce and cries when he sees that Alfred himself is crying.

If some of the men on that list end up dead in prison and Jason seems a proud of himself, that’s no one’s worry.

Damian refuses to leave Tim’s side for a long time, going with him every where when out in public and not giving up his sword even when the mall security insist he has to.

The photo’s taken of Tim, most of which he wasn’t aware of, only manage to circulate for a few hours before Oracle manages to systematically remove each and every single one with the help of a few hackers and Cyborg.

Duke may also leak to a few of his friends that some of the men are trying to bail out of prison and shouldn’t be welcome in Gotham, and if one of those friends is Cass with a wood plank with nails in it, Kate defiantly didn’t see and help her make it.

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pomefioredove · 2 months ago

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helloo! ^^ can I req hcs of dorm leaders + Rollo and neige with a fencer reader? If it's okay with you, ofc!! I really enjoy and love your writing 🫶

ofc and thank you! ^-^

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fencer reader

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, malleus, rollo additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, short

Riddle would be into it. he goes on and on about what a dignified choice of sport that is, how he's always wanted to try it, on and onnn. I just think he's really into swords. he'll ask to watch you practice, all giddy and cute. the guy is genuinely fangirling

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona is like... okayyy. and? you can play with sharp objects? he grew up in a palace surrounded by guards and nobility, he probably had his first sword when he was three

defo challenges you to a duel because he thinks it would be funny. and he WINS

(then he buys you whatever you want as a consolation prize bc he's soft for you)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

[Azul voice] please no weapons or magic in the lounge

...you'll have to demonstrate for the (very eager and interested) tweels outside from now on

Azul will, of course, come to watch. he'd be interested in anything you do, really, because it's you. and watching you try to tell the tweels they can't really kill each other with these kinds of swords is amusing

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim is somehow 100% convinced he can teach himself how to fence within in a week. he thinks you're that cool, and, sevens does he want to play with swords. he probably has a lot of them, too, which Jamil very strongly advises him not to touch (because he has little regard for himself or his surroundings).

Kalim will let you take as many as you want when you come over. he does not know that these aren't the swords you use in fencing

still... um, it's the thought that counts, right?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

like with any sport, Vil can respect your dedication to your passion. and you have really good posture. he would get Epel to join you, but the thought of that boy with access to weapons of any kind, safe or not... yeah

he's nowhere near your level, of course, but he's always happy to help you with any aches or pains from bouts. in return, you can help him rehearse for roles that require swordsmanship. fair enough

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the Neige Leblanche, swooning? yes, actually!! I can't overstate how much of a sucker he is for the whole... dashing and chivalrous thing. it's the sword, yes, but it's also the outfit, the rules, the way you're so... charming. you could pull him 100%

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is a simple man. he sees someone being really good at a niche sport he knows from his fav manga and anime, and he absolutely trips over himself. literally head over heels. blushing, giggling, et cetera, he's just such a freak about this sort of thing (affectionately)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

ah, Malleus. if anyone here can appreciate swordsmanship in all its forms, it's him. with his royal guard and his knights and his freaky gothic castle...

he'll probably invite you to fence with him, and he completely wipes the floor with you (this is Malleus Draconia we're talking about, after all). but lovingly!

he's having the time of his life :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wakey wakey Rollo fans

to be engaged in a non-magical activity, based on agility, wit, and, arguably intelligence, in which there is form and order and rules...

of course, you have his full support

he somehow shows up at all your bouts, is with you before and after practice, and takes his duties as your companion very, very seriously

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #neige leblanche x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #rollo flamme x reader

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mothofmyth · 3 months ago

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Steve Harrington is lost. He's trapped in the upside down. Alone. Because of fucking course he is. Why wouldn't he be? Still, at least it's not one of the kids or something.

Then again...

At least the kids know shit like morse code, and they're smart enough to figure out how to communicate topside. Steve's just sitting here, miserably staring at the vines with his plank (he misses his baseball bat, this rotting old timber was all he could find on short notice).

Sometimes he hears little bursts of voices from the real world. Hears fucking Munson and his godawful noise-music that gave Steve headaches BEFORE all of the head trauma. And actual trauma.

But all he can find in this dump is a walkman and a two-way radio. He's tried talking into the radio an embarrassing number of times, to no avail. He doesn't know if the damned thing even has batteries in it.

He can't communicate. He can't get back home. He's just... stuck.

He's just about given up on ever getting home; ever even seeing another living person again.

When he hears Munson again.

He's just talking to himself, muttering about his latest campaign or something. Steve doesn't really care, he's just grateful to hear someone's voice other than his own.

He tries recording it, so he can listen to human speech whenever he wants, but he grabs the radio by mistake.

Munson stops talking. The air becomes thicker, somehow tension seeps across the dimensions.

"Hello?" Munson sounds concerned - afraid, even.

Steve's eyes snap wide open.

"Hello?! Hey, Munson? Can you hear me?" He shouts into the musty air, careless of the monsters waiting outside the paper-thin walls of his hideout.

"Fucking losing it, Munson." Eddie mutters to himself, seemingly without hearing the call.

Steve tries the radio again, shouting into it, begging to be heard. No luck.

He sighs, assuming some miserable coincidence gave him a tiny crumb of false hope, and drops to the floor.

He grabs the walkman, resigning himself to listening to faint recordings of Eddie fucking Munson's voice for the rest of his short, sad life. He hits record and lays in silence, listening to Eddie until he falls silent.

Steve winds back the tape, listening for whatever he's captured. It's bad quality, but that's certainly Munson's voice, raving about dragons and other nerd shit. He'll take it.

Some time passes and Steve's got the tape playing aloud while he's toying with the radio again. This time, Eddie hears it.

He reacts with surprise and fear and confusion. He's hearing his own voice, distant and crackling, coming from nowhere in particular. Of course he's fucking terrified that's some mimic ass shit.

Some sort of monster, lurking in the dark, trying to lure him to it with his own voice.

Steve, of course, realises that for some fucked-up reason, the radio works to connect him to the other side, but it only hears the fucking walkman.

Steve spends weeks trying to communicate with Eddie by playing his own speech back to him, writing a full glossary of words he's got at his disposal with time stamps for where on the cassette he needs to play to express them.

He finally convinces Eddie to listen by playing "help" "me" "it's" "big" "boy" any time he hears Eddie's presence.

He sometimes catches snippets of Wayne, too, and throws some of his words into the mix as well.

Just the innate horror of being able to communicate but only through another's words, of hearing something strange and other speak to you with your own voice, cut and clipped and tonally all wrong for the context.

Something uncanny. Something familiar yet not. Something dark and serious and frightening.

The nature of danger and bravery and fear and innovation.

They muddle through together, and when Steve is finally, FINALLY rescued he ofc holds Eddie so tight the poor boy can't BREATHE but he doesn't care because it's over and they're both safe.

Eddie holding him in return because it's REAL and he thought he might be losing his mind for a hot minute there.

#stranger things #steve harrington #fanfiction #fanfiction prompts #steddie #eddie munson #trapped in the upside down #upside down #horror

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bluejutdae · 2 months ago

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Perv!Roommate Jeongin | Jeongin x you

notes: sequel of this. I hate it, but eh. Might delete it in the future..

PervRoomate!Jeongin whose jealousy is slowly making him spiral out of control. Now that he has tasted you, the thought of anyone else getting too close drives him mad. When you go back home and talk about your day, he listens carefully for any male names that come up. Your coworkers, your friends, the guy at the coffee shop who paid for your drink… they’re all threats trying to take you away from him. So he starts to “accidentally” show up in places he knows you’ll be at. “Oh, you come here too?” and “was it tonight that you planned to come see a movie here?”

PervRoomate!Jeongin who, anytime he sees you talking a little too cozy with another guy, jokes saying you’re cheating on him, that you shouldn’t flirt with others. It’s an inconvenience for you, but you can’t deny the shiver that went through you from the possessiveness of his words. He starts manipulating you when you consider making plans. He looks at you like a puppy and convinces you to tell your friends you’re busy, guilt tripping you into staying home with him, because “I just miss spending time with you, jagi. Don’t you care about me?”

PervRoomate!Jeongin who has no remorse when he gaslights you, telling you agreed to watch that movie with him. And no remorse when he lies, pretending to be sick the moment you’re about to go out with someone. How can you abandon your roommate-slash-fuck buddy when he feels like that? The same night, after he convinces you to sleep in his bed because he feels too cold, he smiles to himself. Once words about you being unavailable spread at work and among your friends, the competition will be destroyed.

PervRoomate!Jeongin starts to leave marks on your body, where they’re most visible. Hickeys on your neck, a bite mark on your shoulder. It’s his way of marking you, another proof that you’re his and no one else’s. He gets a twisted satisfaction from seeing the marks he left on your skin. And the display of ownership doesn’t bother you too much. It’s just something silly, right? It’s not real ownership.

PervRoomate!Jeongin who plays the victim any time you two argue, and he makes you feel guilty. “I was only looking after you. That skirt was really short. You know how many perverts are on the train, right?” He’s pushy, yes, but he only wants you to be safe, right? Sometimes, after a fight, he seems so hurt by it. “I just care about you so much, can’t you see that?” Of course you can see it. And when he kisses you, you reassure him, you kiss him, and inevitably you spend the evening together in bed.

PervRoomate!Jeongin always fucks you harder after a fight, more possessive, and more marks litter your body the day after that. A collar of bruises on your neck, a clear sign of STAY AWAY FROM HER, clear to everyone but you. When he has you on your knees, fucking you from behind, with you back pushed against his chest, he whispers “you’re mine. All mine. No one else can have you like I do.” But you never worry, people say all sorts of things while having sex, and you’ve always loved some dirty talk.

PervRoomate!Jeongin that, now that has access to your body, your attention and your underwear drawers, wants more. “If we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we should get married”. But if things go his way, neither of you will be single…

#bluejutdae #stray kids scenarios #skz #skz smau #skz fake texts #stray kids smau #stray kids imagines #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #jeongin x reader #jeongin scenarios #perv!roommate Jeongin

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year ago

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Can you do a Tim Drake x M!Reader?

Where Tim's brothers are meeting Reader for the frist time, and they just go into full investigation mode to see if Reader is a good fit for their brother?

Like some may hate/ never talk to Tim, but they still wanna make sure he at least has one healthy relationship in his life.

- Crow

Tim Drake x male reader

Headcanons

Ill be gone all of next week, as my family is going to Greece, yippee. Unless you guys would be interested in me answering requests from my phone, which would mean shorter replies and less formatting.

Dating Tim Drake would be just like how you imagined it, and then nothing like it at all. Hes a little manic, or very, at times, he doesn’t sleep much, he’s always got bruises one way or another, and you have to put up with having a tracker and panic button on you at all times, courtesy of ingrained bat paranoia.

But other than that, he’s a pretty great boyfriend. Sure, he’s a little awkward in the beginning, and if you don’t know he’s Red Robin it takes quite a while to figure It out. Youd probably discover it when you find him banged up after patrols, as Tim doesn’t wanna scare you off by telling you.

Tim would wanna keep you apart from his family for a while, just to keep you to himself. Let’s also not go into detail about the batfams unhealthy attachments to each other, whilst also being weirdy distant at times.

So, if Tim and the family aren’t on speaking terms, it would take even longer for you to meet them. Theres a big chance you meet young justice a lot longer before you ever meet his family, because his team is like his safe place, and you are too. Plus, he would want them to know about you, to keep you safe.

You never asked too much into his family or their situation, since you could just sense most of it from what little he told, and what he didn’t say anything about at all. You know he would tell you if it was anything important.

When the day came where you finally met his family, it was probably during some celebration of some sort, or even for Tims birthday. He would have wanted to just spend it with you, but the batfam would have set something up, or rather, Alfred would have set something up.

At first Tim wouldn’t wanna bring you along, but you end up convincing him, since you wanna meet his family one way or another. It just takes some kisses and cuddling to get him to agree, since deep down he wants them to meet you too.

So, you get dressed up in your best clothes, but nothing too fancy since it’s just a dinner with his family, but still not too sloppy, since you wanna make a great first impression. Tim makes sure to compliment you before you guys leave to drive to the manor.

You could easily tell that Tim was nervous, so before you guys leave the car you make sure to give his hand a squeeze, and your boyfriend a kiss, which seems to work wonders in calming his anxiety, for now at least.

Alfred greets you both at the door, and whilst he gives you a raised brow, he doesn’t question who you are, or why you are there. It’s a different thing when you get inside though, multiple members of the batfam would immediately look you up and down and ask who you were.

They try not to act surprised and maybe a little hurt when Tim introduces you as his boyfriend or almost a year, surprised because they couldn’t imagine Tim having a long-lasting healthy relationship, curse of being a bat, and hurt because he never told them.

They play nice the whole evening though, but Damian might be looking you up and down in closer detail trying to discern if you are a threat. He and Tim might not get along, but only Damian gets to pick on him.

After that the entire batfam would look into you in their own ways, but if you end up getting a few, or multiple, followers at night watching your every move, you would be none the wiser.

You almost shit yourself when you return to your apartment one day after work to find the red hood sitting on your couch. It ends up with him giving you a very extreme and in detail shoveltalk, telling you exactly what he would do if you ever hurt Tim or his feelings. It leaves your legs shaking after he leaves, you thought the heads in bags thing was just a myth.

Some of the others would be more subtle about their stalking investigating, like Cass who would just observe how you act around Tim, and look into your body language. When she sees there’s nothing but love in you though and how healthy Tim looks nowadays, she would accept your relationship.

Dick is still hurt that Tim never told them, but he would try to ask Tim about you during patrol, gotta get some brother bonding, right? He can always come to Dick for dating advice, he knows that. It ends up with the others joking about Dick and his long list of partners, and how Tims held his relationship longer than most of Dicks, so maybe Dick should ask Tim for advice instead.

Damian doesn’t trust you for a long time, he always expects the worst, especially since Tim seems to attract enemies like a magnet. But after a while, he would have to accept that you have a positive influence on Tim and his wellbeing, so he guesses he will accept you for now.

Barbara would already have known, I mean, its Babs, how wouldn’t she have known. She would have accepted Tim needing time to tell the others though, so she kept it a secret. But she did a very extreme background check the moment she learned of your relationship, and when you came up clean, she accepted it.

Bruce would pull a move similar to Babs, and wouldn’t stalk you himself but look into your past and your families’ pasts, and your friends and their families pasts, and-

You get my point. Let’s hope you don’t have any embarrassing search history, because your boyfriend’s dad as seen it. But like Babs, when you turn up clean, he has to accept it, since its clear Tim is so happy with you. Bruce might end up feeling protective of you after a while, especially if you aren’t a hero yourself and have no training. Congrats you are now part of the batfam.

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marveloustimestwo · 4 months ago

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Can you do yandere Aemond obsessed with his i maid, he tries to convince his mother so she let him married her and alicent is a platonic yandere for her too

Thank you for the request, anon!

Warnings: Yandere themes, allusions to Aegon's tendencies, this is very long when I did not intend it to be.

Aemond Targaryen is already quite a difficult yandere to deal with.

He has trouble dealing with his emotions, or rather, he instead chooses to ignore them completely until he no longer can.

Whatever anger, sadness, or undesirable issues he feels towards his family, himself, or others are stuffed away, which really only causes them to get worse.

The fact that you are a maid only adds to this issue.

Aegon already views him as weak, as someone undeserving of respect. While Aemond does not much care for what his brother thinks, the last thing he needs is to bring further shame unto himself in the eyes of others.

Aemond would often treat you coldly because of this. He wants to keep himself from falling more than he already has; he's already finding himself far more comfortable with you than he would like.

You're so warm, so sweet to him in a way that he hasn't received in years. The fact that he forces his emotions down makes them worse, yes, but his family dynamics also play a heavy role in why his obsession starts.

How he was treated by his father and brother is especially damaging, but it is also a big reason why he would seek reassurance, praise, and comfort from you.

If you were hired when you were both very young, you would be a crutch almost, a safe space for him to go to when Aegon insulted him or when he couldn't speak to his father.

Knowing Aemond from a young age would have made things better for both of you in all honesty.

While his obsessive tendencies would still be there, Aemond would be a lot softer than he would be if he met you later in life. The anger and the coldness he feels would've melted away years ago in your presence.

Granted, that same softness would not extend to others. He's still rather cold at best, and downright vicious to those who think they have the right to touch or even talk to you.

He's very possessive. Even when you're getting orders from those who are higher up have Aemond seething. Nothing is too little.

Aemond would ask for you to only be his maid early on. He hates the idea of others spending this sort of time with you, especially Aegon. He's heard of what his brother does to the servants, and he hardly needs you being subjected to that.

It also means that once you've done everything needed for the day, he can spend as much time as he wants with you (which is all the time, really.) If he had his way, you would stay in his room permanently.

He'd particularly enjoy reading with you or discussing topics from his books. Considering you're a maid, he'd take time to teach you how to read if you didn't know how.

Late at night when things are quiet, Aemond would also take you on flights with Vhagar. The dragon was his pride and joy, the same thing he spent so many years without, and lost an eye for.

Having the two things he cherishes the most in one place is something he holds dear. It would likely be during this that he would realize that he wanted to marry you.

At this rate, being years into his obsession, Aemond wouldn't really care what his brother thought. If Aegon really, truly had the gall to try and stop him, he could always use his prized dragon as a way to end the fight once and for all.

His mother, however, was a different ordeal. While they have their own unhealthy dynamic, Aemond has no true want to harm his mother and actually does care about what she thinks.

The one thing Aemond didn't expect was how accepting Alicent would be of this situation.

Going into it, he was preparing himself for a fight. He had a whole speech prepared about how he wanted to marry you, about how deep his love runs for you, and how there is nothing he would not do to make this happen. To him, fire and blood would be an easy path should all else fail.

A deeply dramatic speech that is met with Alicent's judgmental gaze, and a reply of "Did it truly take you this long to realize all of this?"

Alicent had noticed your presence as soon as you were assigned around any of her sons. At first, she gave you nothing more than a glance, far more concerned with other things than a simple maid.

It was when Aemond requested you as his personal maid that she actually saw you. Aemond in particular had become so unfriendly over the years, so it had surprised her to hear of this request.

She was even more surprised to see how attached he had become. Alicent had never seen him so friendly with anyone in years.

Looking into your life, it was hard for her to see what was so special at first. You came from a long line of servants, the majority of the women being maids, while the men were often cooks or stablehands.

Asking Aemond was like asking a brick wall. The answers he gave her consisted of the things she already knew. "She is my personal maid," or "She was assigned to others, I just so happened to request her personally."

With no explanation as to why. Only one comment actually seemed to give her anything.

"I have known her since I was a child, mother. Of course, I am fond of her."

A flippant remark, it seemed, at the end of another line of questions. Alicent even wondered at times if Aemond had realized what he said.

Speaking to you personally felt as though it were her only option.

At first, it had only made her more confused. You gave her all the answers she wanted, as she was the Queen, but to hear it from you felt strange.

If Aemond has threatened you to be around him, she might understand. She already had another son who harassed the servants. But to hear that you might actually enjoy Aemond's company? That he taught you to read, took you on dragon rides, actually talked to you about his thoughts and interests?

It practically gave her whiplash. Her immediate thought was that you might've been trying to squeeze something out of him. Private information, money, or god forbid, actually marrying her son to get a leg up in life.

Questioning Aemond on the matter would immediately have him snapping at her. He did not need his mother threatening what he has with you. Forcing you to stay away from him, having you take care of anyone else, or making you leave the castle entirely will have violent consequences.

So Alicent set to watching you and seeing why exactly her son liked you so much. And that is where her own obsession would begin.

When Aemond finally tells her that he plans to marry you, Alicent has been waiting for a least a year for this to happen. She's tired of him beating around the bush and is happy to do whatever she needs to make it happen.

As such, it takes a very short time for you to be married to Aemond. No matter what anyone else tried to say about it.

#yandere #yandere hotd #yandere house of the dragon #yandere aemond targaryen #yandere alicent hightower

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agi-ppangx · 1 year ago

Text

💭right person, wrong time (100 followers special)

“you should definitely go,” chan said quietly, his voice strained and filled with misery. you didn't say anything back, quietly fighting the tears angrily wailing in your eyes.

you two were lying on the beach, listening to waves hitting the shore. the sea was restless that day - as if it sensed your mood. you were cuddled with him on a small blanket you took from the car, surrounded by his cologne, the scent you knew all too well and loved even more.

you'd just told him about the offer you received a few days before. you were given this huge opportunity which could possibly change your entire career for better. though there was something that made this whole thing a bit less exciting. yes, you got into a one-year program for aspiring scientists, but it was taking place in canada. but who would reject such a great opportunity to finally spread their wings? who would even question whether to go or not? well, that would be you. of course, it was huge and it could quite literally change your whole life - better income, bigger knowledge, more opportunities to work with respected scientists in the future. but then there was chan.

you two met almost five years earlier. you were friends with felix, who happened to be chan’s friend as well, so it was natural for the two of you to meet up at different occasions. and the bond between you grew and grew. he would help you to figure out how to write an essay for a particularly mean lecturer even though he knew shit about the topic. and he would always bring you snacks and coffee for your late study sessions, helping you to write and cut the flashcards and proofread your drafts to check if there are any typos and grammar mistakes. but you two would also enjoy mundane activities such as going to the movies or cooking together. you would spare shy glances at him when he wasn’t looking just to admire him. in the meantime he shared his love for music with you, creating you various playlists for different occasions and playing piano for you. he'd never told you before, but with you he felt safe, as if any worries in his life disappeared when you approached him, you were his haven. and over the time you realised that you couldn’t lie to yourself anymore - his shiny eyes, soft smile and unique worldview made you fall in love with him too. of course, you hadn’t figured it out in a few days, you simply couldn’t. but after what seemed like eternity you both sorted things out in your heads and a week ago you finally talked about it. and when you thought that everything in your life was coming together the offer came and you started questioning every single decision you have ever made. you thought about how are you going to tell chan about it - you knew he would be supportive, of course he would. and you loved that about him. but deep down you were hoping, just a little bit, that he’s going to be selfish this time, that he’s going to tell you “please stay here with me”. but he simply couldn’t, he knew this was too big for you to let it go.

“you do want to go, right?” he then asked, there was panic in his voice at your lack of response. why was he panicked? “i guess so…” you finally mumbled, not sure at the moment. all you knew is that you wanted to be where you were right now - in chan’s arms, surrounded by his warm body and this pretty cologne.

“what do you mean? i mean, you love your job, it’s a great offer. i’m pretty sure not everyone got it” he spoke again, trying to help you, convince you that this is what you should do right now. in reality he tried to convince himself, not wanting to say anything that could discourage you from going. of course he wanted you to make your dreams happen, your happiness was his happiness. but why now?

"sure, i love my job, i just… now i wanna be here, with you," you mumbled, cheeks rosy. suddenly you felt embarrassed, because who on earth would put a boy over a great career?

but chan wasn't just a boy, he was a person you could quite literally see your future with. it didn't matter that you weren't really in a real relationship yet, you both knew it was just a formality now. "hey, yn, i'm not mad that you're leaving now. i want you to be happy and i know this is gonna make you happy, yeah?" he whispered, his voice getting weaker and weaker with every word. you suddenly got up, breaking free from his warm embrace. "you know what would make me happy now? being here, with you," you shouted, angry tears welling in your eyes. "going to the convenience store at 2am to buy some snacks, watching a new movie on netflix and cuddling on a sunday morning. you would make me really happy now," you whispered the last words, feeling defeated. what was the point of lying? he knew how you felt towards him.

the tears started falling down your face and you started to shiver from the cold wind. chan didn't waste time, he got up as well and brought you to his chest, hugging tightly, and started rubbing soothing circles on your back. he muttered sweet nothing into your hair, kissing your forehead from time to time. but you couldn't calm down, not now. you wanted to let out your anger and misery, wanted the whole world to know how deeply hurt you're right now. you wanted to scream on the top of your lungs at whoever was up there, cursing at them for putting you in this situation.

but you sobbed into chan's chest instead, desperately clutching at his hoodie. you were like a porcelain doll, fragile and defenseless.

"it sucks, you know? i-i really thought we could be together but-" you hiccuped through tears. at this point your head hurt, your eyes stung and you grew more and more tired. "it's okay, i'll wait for you however long you want me to" chan interrupted you, sensing your pain. it was hard for him too, knowing he has to set you free and let you spread your wings. how bittersweet, chan thought. he was willing to wait for you, but god, was he impatient by nature. he wanted to kiss you hungrily, clutch into your clothes and never let go. but now it would only broke the two of you even more and he was not letting it happen.

you stayed like this for a long time, over the time your broken sobs stopped, but you didn't let go of chan, clutching to him like a koala. he was quiet, running his fingers through your hair.

"i don't want you to regret going, yn" chan spoke suddenly, his voice barely above the whisper. "i don't mind waiting, i just want you to go there and make your dream come true, 'cause seeing you happy will make me happy." you sighed and finally looked up to make eye contact with chan. "you know i love you, right?" chan was caught of guard by your words, but he smiled nonetheless. he nodded and placed a soft kiss on your temple. "i will come back and when i do i'll make sure to compensate you this year," you exclaimed, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it.

a few days later chan accompanied you to the airport. you didn't want to let go of his hand, as if he was going to disappear as soon as you do. but the time didn't stop for the two of you and you had to say your goodbyes. "can i kiss you?" chan asked you and you looked at him. "not now. if you do, i won't go anywhere." he only smiled sadly at your words but nodded his head. he understood. with that you pecked his cheek instead and let go of his hand with tears in your eyes. "see you soon, chan" you whispered. "see you soon, yn".

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

#skz #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan #bang chan x you #skz chan #bang chan fanfic #skz angst #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader

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noodlesoup1819 · 4 months ago

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Day 2: Mental Disability - Autistic Ranpo

I didn't get to doing anything proper for this day, but Autistic Ranpo is featured heavily on Day 7, so keep an eye out for that. (this can sort of be read as the background for that post if you want to know what my personal interpretation is.)

Instead let's talk about some of my Autistic Ranpo Headcanons! (ft. Poe and emotional support animal Karl)

(these are my personal hcs based on my autistic experience and is not reflective of everyone's interpretation and experience of autism <3)

I think Ranpo went undiagnosed until several months of living with Fukuzawa. Because of Ranpo's intellect, no one ever really questioned the things he struggled with until Fukuzawa.

The first time Fukuzawa started thinking there might be something actually up (rather than Ranpo just being Ranpo) was the first time he properly got lost trying to navigate the subway. Ranpo ended up going missing for serval hours 4 towns over and Fukuzawa finally found him curled up on a bench having a meltdown.

Another thing that clued him in was food. Fukuzawa, trying to be the Responsible Adult™️, pushed a little too hard about not having so many sweets. It wasn't until there was a big blow-up fight about it that Fukuzawa understood that Ranpo wasn't just being picky.

It took a little time, but the two of them fell into a rhythm and Fukuzawa became a safe space for Ranpo.

Before the agency was set up properly, Fukuzawa kept stim toys and earplugs in his sleeves for whenever Ranpo needed them. (now he keeps them in his desk drawer)

After getting a diagnosis and settling into the agency, Ranpo manages his autism much better. The agency always has someone there to help him navigate, everyone respects him in spite of his childish demeanor, and he has a very set routine.

When things do get overwhelming, he still has places within the agency to calm down. Fukuzawa will always let him join him for tea in his office. Having made a bit of an adoptive sister in Yosano she let's him chill out in his office if he ever needs any down time (everyone's too scared of her to bother him when he's in there.)

The rest of the agency is good at accommodating him too. Kunikida has no problem using his ability to make stim toys or aids for him whenever they're out on a case. Dazai, while kind of a pain in the ass, gives him some good intellectual stimulation when they hang out that's hard for him to get elsewhere (they're besties you can't convince me otherwise). Atsushi carries around snacks for him. And everyone regardless of who they are will help him navigate transportation.

Eventually he also has Poe who he can either go to or call to come and bring Karl. The author has a really calming presence and having a soft animal to pet and play with always helps.

Speaking of Poe, their first interaction will always haunt him as one of his autistic blunders. Ranpo really respected him as a detective and wanted to complement his skills... but didn't quite realize comparing him to himself would sound like gloating. He's really glad to have met Poe again (even if it was through a 6 year revenge plot).

Poe also understands his autism in a way that most people don't, being autistic himself.

The first time Ranpo had a proper meltdown around Poe was before Ranpo had the chance to explain his autism to him. After calming down, Ranpo was super impressed with how Poe dealt with it and it led to a conversation about both of their experiences growing up and why Poe has Karl as his emotional support animal.

Ranpo also gets headaches frequently. He's never really found a cause, but he suspects his autism has something to do with it.

When he was young and lived with Fukuzawa, Fukuzawa would let him sleep with his head in his lap and play with his hair when things got bad. (He would still let him, but Poe does it most often now)

This got long 😅 but I hope you enjoyed! 💖

#my headcanons #own #bsd disability week #bsd disability week 2024 #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo edogawa #ranpoe #bsd edgar allan poe #fukuzawa yukichi #bsd fukuzawa #armed detective agency

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jermer10 · 2 months ago

Note

Yandere Scout with a civilian reader?

TF2 yandere scout x civilian reader

18+ only, gn reader | yandere scout my beloved

tw: yandere themes, stalking, graphic depictions of violence, non-consensual sexual activity

drabbles under the cut :P

Being the 10th class, 'The Civilian', you’re someone different, special in a way that the others aren't

You work behind the scenes, cleaning up the battlefield after each fight, being escorted from point A to B with sensitive information by whichever team had you for that week

Thus, Scout quickly becomes fixated, convinced that he’s the only one who can understand and protect you

His mind is always on you. During missions, downtime, and even in the middle of conversations with the team, you occupy his every thought

He imagines every scenario where he’s the one protecting you, keeping you safe, and, most importantly, keeping you his

Scout makes it a point to always know where you are, even when you think you’re alone he's there, watching from the shadows

You might think you hear footsteps behind you or feel eyes on you, but every time you look, no one's there, you start to spiral into a paranoid mess

Scout steps in as your personal confidant, gaslighting you into believing you're having some sort of stress related psychotic episode

His stalking becomes more brazen over time, but he always plays it off like it’s no big deal

Scout’s obsession with you knows no boundaries - most nights he sneaks into your room and watches you sleep (and yes, he touches himself to you)

He’s careful not to wake you, his eyes scanning every detail, convinced that no one else could ever appreciate you the way he does

Escalated from jerking off behind you, to rubbing his cock on your lips, to using your thighs as a fleshlight

He intentionally cums on pieces of clothing from your closet, he doesn't care if you notice, if you take them to Medic for analysis - the samples always seem to go missing anyway

Some nights he drugs you with the intention of actually fucking you, but he can never work up the courage, wanting to save your first time together for when you're officially his

His biggest fantasy is having you beg for him, he wants you to obsess over him in the way he does to you

He hates when anyone else talks to you, especially if you seem to enjoy their company

If another mercenary spends too much time around you, Scout gets jealous and finds ways to interrupt - whether it’s a poorly timed joke, pretending to need something urgently, or picking a fight with them, he won’t stop until they leave you alone

Scout likes to take little items as trophies or souvenirs, something to remind him of you when you’re not around (often repeatedly cumming on the items - marking his territory)

He feels entitled to your personal space and has no qualms about going through your things when you’re not there, sitting so close to you he's basically on top of you, hugging you and touching you without asking

If you ask for space or mention feeling uncomfortable he stops talking to you for days, making threatening and suicidal comments when you're in earshot

Eventually you apologize to him, and he makes sure you know how happy he is that you've "come to your senses"

"I dunno why you'd even think somethin' as stupid as that in the first place, I don't make ya uncomfortable, you're probably just feelin' totally flattered, babe! It's okay, sometimes I can't tell the difference either."

His obsession escalates into paranoia - he becomes convinced that everyone around you is trying to take you away from him

Even innocent interactions are blown out of proportion in his mind, and he’ll go to great lengths to ensure no one gets too close

He will sabotage others’ efforts to spend time with you, spreading rumors or even manipulating situations so that they’re pushed out of your life

It seems like everyone has picked up on his irrational behaviour except you, and god help the soul who tries to warn you, so they stay away and hope that his "crush" passes

If he feels like you’re pulling away or that someone else is threatening his claim on you, he might snap

In a worst-case scenario, he could take matters into his own hands, kidnapping you and isolating you somewhere he believes no one can hurt you

To Scout, everything he’s doing is out of love - his intense possessiveness, his constant stalking, and even the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you close are all justified in his mind

#ask #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 imagines #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #jermer10 #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 scout x you #yandere

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hardly-an-escape · 5 months ago

Note

For your road trip prompt ask: Dreamling going to a fair☺️ Have a safe trip!

oooh I so want to write what’s in a name? Dream & Hob stopping at a state or county fair somewhere on their weird ass sex romp-slash-road trip, but that fic is set in winter and I just don’t think it’s plausible. and yeah it’s fanfic and I can do whatever I want but internal consistency is important! dangit! so I will make up my own little winter festival lol

They’ve gotten a slow start, so wrapped up in trading slow kisses that it had taken housekeeping knocking on the motel door to pull them out of bed. It’s their third day on the road, and Hob still kind of can’t believe his luck – that he's woken up next to this dream of a man three mornings in a row, now, and that Dream seems just as captivated by Hob as Hob is by him.

They’ve left the worst of the weather behind them as they make their way gradually in a southward direction, but there’s still a bite to the air, and more often than not the sky is a sort of dull grey that threatens snow but never backs up its threats. It’s nice to step out in the chill for a minute when they stop for gas, and even nicer to blast the heat when they get back in the car.

Hob notices the first sign for the county midwinter fair a little while after they stop for lunch. They’re on one of the smaller county roads, not the interstate, or else he probably wouldn’t have seen it at all; the fair seems like one of those slightly weird, uniquely small town America kind of things that just don’t have traction outside of a fifty mile radius of their location.

When the pass the second sign he touches Dream on the shoulder and points it out. “What do you say? Want to stop and check it out?”

“Trinity County Midwinter Fair and Festival,” Dream reads aloud as Hob slows the car. There’s nobody else on the road. “Music, midway, food trucks, ice carving competition.” He snorts as Hon hits the accelerator again. “What is a midway?”

“It’s like, rides and stuff. They’ll probably have a Ferris wheel and some of those rigged carnival games.”

“Ah. The village fete, complete with coconut toss.”

Dream’s mouth curves into a smile, and Hob has to restrain himself from causing an accident by trying to kiss him while the car is still moving.

They follow the signs and park in a large field, following the sounds of the crowd to where a little row of games booths and rides has been erected. There is indeed a Ferris wheel, as well as a tilt-a-whirl and bumper cars, all brightly lit against the backdrop of forested mountains.

Hob is delighted. He urges Dream from booth to booth, only realizing about halfway down the row that he’s seized his hand with such gusto that they’re still holding hands almost ten minutes later. He grins apologetically and drops it, only for Dream to take it back and deliberately interlace their fingers.

They try elephant ears, which are a bit, and deep fried Oreos, which are not. Hob lets himself be talked into playing a ring toss game – well, he doesn’t try too hard to stop the man from convincing him – and actually wins a small and very ugly teddy bear, which he presents to Dream, who rolls his eyes but carefully carries it with them for the rest of the afternoon.

The ice carving competition is surprisingly compelling. There are only a handful of contestants, but each has their own unique set of tools and artistic style – one extremely petite but fierce-looking lady with a long grey braid uses a chainsaw – and Dream and Hob stop several times in their perambulation to watch their creations emerge from the massive blocks of ice. For the first time, Hob gets to watch Dream-the-artist watch other artists at work, and it’s… remarkable. Those blue eyes take in everything with such startling clarity and intensity.

Hob wants to watch Dream create something.

They save the Ferris wheel for last. It’s nearing sunset when they finally go up, Dream wrapped tight in his thrift store coat and scarf. To the west, the sinking sun is staining the sky in shades of pink, orange, and gold, and the warm light makes Dream look even more like a work of art than he usually does.

When their rickety little carriage pauses at the very top of the wheel, Dream sighs and leans into Hob, resting his head on his shoulder, and Hob leans back and kisses Dream twice, on the temple and the forehead.

Something resembling love is welling up in him. He tries to swallow it back down, tries to transmute it into something more acceptable, something Dream might actually be able to accept, but he just ends up with a lump in his throat and after a moment, Dream is the one to break the silence.

“Thank you for suggesting we stop,” he says, breath puffing white. “I – loved this.”

His hand tightens in the crook of Hob’s elbow where they are tangled together. He still has the teddy tucked under his arm.

“Me too,” Hob says. “I loved it too.”

come and drop a prompt in my inbox and I'll write you a drabble while I’m being a passenger princess on this road trip <3

#dreamling #the sandman #my writing #i am deliriously tired and haven’t even reread this so I’ll probably look at it tomorrow and find eleventeen horrible mistakes #such is life #hardly a road trip #hardly an answer

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remotepixel · 10 months ago

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Platonic Yan!Tony Stark headcanons:

First post, very nervous </3.

(Request are open btw!!)

I've seen him called a mother hen multiple times but it's definitely amplified here.

-He's always wondering about the what-ifs and, as an important part of his life, most will be centred around you.

-Even small things like not wearing a coat when it’s cold will probably mess up his heart even further (please put one on, for his sake).

-Tech will be made in your honour because 'you never know'.

-And, as for giving it to you, I think it would go two ways:

-Straight-up giving it to you as a gift (pretty casually for him).

-Or leaving it really obviously somewhere and when you ask about it he acts all casual like he didn't spend the last week on it.

-In either of these scenarios he would be impatiently waiting for you to praise him.

-Like you're looking at it and he's making his usual quips while internally dying in suspense.

-He lives off your approval even if he'd never admit it.

-Any sort of positive reaction to him or his work would lift his mood for the rest of the day (though it may indirectly encourage him to work instead of living to get that same reaction).

This is probably obvious but mf would definitely stalk you online.

-Like, the tech isn't just for you, he isn't that selfless.

-Its a way to monitor you:)

-The Stark phone is tracking you 24/7 and reading/watching everything you're doing.

-There's a screen in his lab just for your activity and JARVIS is on alert in case he misses anything (which is kinda hard when he's glancing at it every 2 seconds but the lack of sleep catches up sometimes).

Just like his constant seek of approval, he wants to constantly be in your life and know everything about you (other reason why his inventions are handy).

-Knowing everything allows him to feel comfortable and increases the chances of you actually liking him (or at least, that’s his logic), and it’s the same for being around you 24/7 (though it also helps his paranoia, that he will be there to protect you if anything happens).

-He'd play nice with your parents (lowkey reluctantly) , teachers, background check all your friends, anything to keep himself involved and in the loop surrounding you.

(He definitely has a whole terabyte or more of information about you with a lot of security measures just in case anyone finds it).

I think due to his upbringing (yk, not having a good dad lol) he would compliment you often.

-He's not an overall affectionate guy so it would probably be the subtle 'good work' or pat on the shoulder but he'll try at least.

-That's why he normally goes with gifts- whether tech like mentioned before or anonymously paying for any subscriptions, bills, etc.

You not liking him for any reason would crush his soul.

-He overthinks everything, to the point where if you forget to say hello to him or something he'd convinced he's done something wrong.

-He knows self-loathing isn't good and he's reading too much into it, but it doesn't help when all he can think about is yet another person leaving.

-He'll play it off ofc but he'll be searching for ages trying to find any more clues for your behaviour.

-He isn't good at comforting so, if you’re in any sort of negative mood, he'll make more jokes, drop in a few not very subtle 'you can talk about anything to me', just anything to try and get you happy once again.

-If you're happy, you'll want to be near him and that makes him happy in return.

-In his mind, its a fair deal.

Although impulsive, he’s self aware.

-He knows his behaviour is strange to say the least, but he basically gaslights himself into believing it’s the best choice.

-Like, you fall over once? Well, that wouldn’t have happened if he was your guardian.

-I don’t think kidnapping would happen unless you get put into serious danger which he then believes warrants keeping you ‘safe’ in the tower, or he overreacts to a trivial thing (he’s in his mother henning mood), decides enough is enough, and then realises what he’s done an hour later and now has to live with the consequences.

Overall, he’s a paranoid, approval-seeking, obsessive silly little guy :)

#yandere mcu #yandere #yandere tony stark #platonic yandere #platonic yandere tony stark #yandere marvel #RemotePixel

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psychovigilantewrites · 10 months ago

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Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

“Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

#jason todd #dc comics #batman #red hood #dick grayson #jason todd/reader #dick grayson/reader

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linomilkers · 1 year ago

Note

How about when you use a Safe word? You can do it with either Lino or Chan <3

Sure :-) thank you for requesting! I chose Chan this time around but let me know if you want Linooo next :-)

[warnings: dom/sub dynamics, safe word use, spanking, degradation, overstimulation, subspace]

____________________

Chan was stressed.

Of course he was; comebacks were tiring, leading up to it, during it, and even after it sometimes, the schedules could be packed and busy with little time for reprieve. All of them let the weight of it sit on their shoulders but for Chan it's just a little different -- being the leader is just a little different. He's tired and stressed for himself, and he's tired and stressed for all of the members. While he lightens their load, he triples his own. He's always done that.

Y/N knew he'd be calling her more because of it; she would have been shocked if he didn't, honestly. He always messages her when things are a lot and he needs some sort of reprieve, at least a couple of hours where he can be mindless and follow his more base instincts. Split her thighs, tuck himself between them, and do whatever it is that he wants to do.

They've got rules established, and a safe word always, and Chan is good about following both. In the moment he may say something possessive, maybe a little mean about how she's a whore, she's his whore, to have and to fuck and to claim -- but afterward he's always so grateful. They weren't together and for some reason he's convinced himself that Y/N gets nothing out of this arrangement ("You're good in bed and I cum a lot and you feed me after, I think I get plenty out of this too, dummy."), so he treats each experience with a lot of care.

Because Chan on a good day is a little rough in bed, and likes to squeeze and manhandle and toss her around like she was a rag doll for him only. On a day he's let stress fill his bones? He's spanking and slapping and biting; Y/N is okay with all of that -- she likes it, if she didn't then she would tell him and they'd never do it again, but it's seldom he does something she doesn't enjoy. Sometimes she'll slip into that soft, floaty spot; where it's nice and quiet and Chan makes all the decisions so she can just let her mind flutter off. Chan can usually tell when it happens and he's mindful of it, and keeps doing what he's doing but with a softer edge, more praise, a few sweeter words. She's still a whore, sure, but she's his sweet whore -- that makes a difference in the moment.

Tonight had started out no different! It was the same set up -- she got a message around 8PM while she was snuggled in her blanket on the sofa. Y/N reached for her phone on the cushion beside her, saw that it was Chan asking if she was free, and she replied.

That depends. . .do you have snacks?

lol do you want snacks?

yes

I'll get some snacks then

okay, omw

Chan doesn't expect her to dress up so she usually doesn't, and since she'd just showered for the night, she was in a big shirt and some soft new pajama bottoms that she'd gotten a couple of weeks ago. She gave him a few minutes to actually get snacks for her before she grabs her things, looping her bag over her shoulder and petting her her cat on the couch before heading out. This would be the third time this week he's called, but Y/N had told him she'd be busy next week so she wondered if he was just trying to get it all out of his system now.

The drive to his dorm isn't too ridiculous, so not much time passed between the time he messaged her to her getting there. She knocked, he let her in with a shy little giggle and his dimples popping, and he complimented her shirt (it had a duck on it) while he played with the hair at the nape of his neck -- all of it was the usual stuff.

They usually don't just jump right into it; Chan likes the build up, playing around it, dancing around each other. He invites her into his room, sometimes they pass Jisung who is always polite and has his headphones around his neck (Y/N doesn't know if it's in preparation or not but she's too embarrassed to inquire). Maybe she gets to hear some of the stuff they're working on or maybe he wants to not think about work at all, and they'll just chat, and gab, and Y/N is just the right amount of bratty that gives him a reason to be rougher with her. She always waits patiently though, for him to be comfortable, to make the first move, to crawl into the bed where she's usually sitting stretched out and tucking his face into her throat. He'll kiss up her neck, suck a bruise just beneath her jaw, make his way to nip and bite at her mouth.

Y/N is good with everything he does with her -- to her -- usually. She can handle the overstimulation, and the degradation, and the swats to the inside of her thighs, or how he slaps her breast before grabbing and kneading it. She loves all that, it makes her tremble and squirm, and it's just good. Too good -- so good that she just slips right into subspace without even realizing it.

And Chan doesn't realize it either; he can't see her face, to be fair, and she thinks that's usually a dead giveaway. She's covered in drool and cum and bruises, she's sore, he's made her cum 4. . .maybe 5 times at that point and she was quivering with every breath. And he was still saying things, being rough, being mean how she usually likes, but maybe not right now -- maybe she wanted to be told she was good, and she wanted to be pet on, and cuddled against.

But her back was cold because he wasn't stretched over her how he usually is, and his nails bite into her hips. "Just a filthy hole," he grits through his teeth, the sound of their hips colliding and her squelching around him the only things echoing in the room, "Made for me to fuck. Have you always been such a little whore?"

She gasps when his hand slid around her, his fingers swirling over her clit and her toes curl but it's too much, "M'not a whore," she whines, muffled into the pillow.

"Mm, sure," he hums, mocking her as he swats her bum, "And the sky is neon green. If you weren't a whore then why would this pussy take my cock so easy, hm? You opened up like you've been begging for it -- don't I fuck you enough?" Y/N can't answer, her muscles are tight all over, she feels overwhelmed with her chest swollen and her breath caught in her throat. He slaps her bum again, it's a stingy burn she usually likes but now she gasps again and grimaces, "Answer when I ask you a question. Or do you want me to spank your ass until it's sore?"

"Pineapple," Y/N whines out, the first time muffled with the pillow still but she pulls her face from the cushion that she'd been clinging onto, shaking her head, "Pineapple!" She repeated, puffing a harsh breath through her nose.

Y/N doesn't use her safe word often, but from when she has, she knows Chan is always good about it. Just like he is right now -- he slips out of her gently and takes his hands away from her swollen button. He doesn't let go of her hips because he's the only thing keeping her from flopping down on top of the dried cum and the wet little spot she'd been making from how wet she was. He scooted them over just a hair and shoved the sheets that were beneath her out of the way, before guiding her onto her back.

Y/N feels bare and cold as the sweat cools on her skin from the fan blades whipping above them. She hugs her arms around herself but Chan pulls a knitted blanket from the end of the bed and pulls it over her, "Is it okay if I touch you?" He asks, his voice careful and gentle. Y/N nods quickly -- she hadn't fallen that deep into it (when she does that, sometimes she can't even find the words or her voice to speak them).

He cradles her cheek in his hand, wipes away tears that she hadn't realized wet her skin before pressing a gentle kiss to the lips he'd only just been biting and gnawing at earlier, "I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, "Was I being too rough?"

"Just -- just a little," she caught her breath, curling into the blanket but pressing close to his body. His chest was broad and he smelled good, she noses her way into it, "Felt like. . .felt like a lot when I feel like this."

"Hm?" He's confused but the cogs in his brain click and turn quickly then, "Ohhh," he wrapped his arm around her, flattening his palm between her shoulder blades and keeping her pressed close, "I see. You're feeling floaty, aren't you?" She nodded, "Sweet thing, it is hard to handle when someone's being rough with you like this. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she presses a kiss to the center of his chest, his skin soft, "You didn't realize."

They spend some time like this, Chan rubbing her back, her arms, pushing kisses to her forehead -- it's sweet and warm and soft. The aftercare (even if it's premature) is always the best part, Y/N would say, and she thinks Chan likes it too. He likes to feel needed and to take care of people, and this is a way of doing it in such a relaxed way. Just snuggling close, being kissed, told that she did so well for him that she made him feel so good. Eventually she pulls out of it, and when she does, she untucks her face from his chest and lies her head on his bicep. She blinks at him, and he smiles, dimpled and sweet, "Are you okay?"

"Mhmmmmm," she hums, "Right as rain."

"Good," his smile gets bigger, "Do you want to stay and order take out and maybe watch a movie or something?"

Y/N raises her brows, "You already fucked me, what are you trying to butter me up for?" She's only joking -- they do this all the time, because they were just friends at the start of this with no benefits included but she loves seeing how his face warms up bright pink and he's patting her bum and whining at her.

"Hey, I'm not buttering you up!" He grumbled, "I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?"

Her heart squeezes in her chest, then feels like it swells up, and pushes her ribs to the side to make room for it. He has a nasty habit of making her feel all gooey and in love, but she swats that away just as soon as it comes in favor of snuggling back into his side.

"Yeah, I'll stay," she replied, "Order something good."

#stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader

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