#it definitely came close to dislocating multiple times which would explain why it hurts as bad as it does now

[thethingything]

🍬: would having a dentist almost dislocate your jaw count as a traumatic experience? as in like as he's pushing on the tooth to try and shape the filling he keeps pushing so hard you feel your jaw partly shift out of the socket repeatedly like it does when it's about to dislocate but it just doesn't quite fully pop out of place?

every other alter that's present: ...in what world is that not considered traumatic

[mochegato]

Mine Protector

Continuation of Enemy Mine

She gripped her jacket tighter around her as she made her way down the sidewalk.  One of the good things about Gotham, she supposed, was nobody gave you a second glance.  In Paris, she would have been stopped every few feet by most of the people she came across. It would have been nearly impossible to make her way in peace.  But here, nobody even noticed her.  Nobody noticed the cuts.  Nobody noticed the blood.  Nobody noticed the glancing over her shoulder every few steps to make sure she wasn’t being followed.

On the downside, most likely, nobody would react if the men came back for her either.  Nobody would intercede if they grabbed her.  Nobody would care unless it affected them.  Which meant she was on her own.  It was up to her to get somewhere safe so she could report what she found… tomorrow.  Today she just wanted to take a shower to wash off the blood and grime and curl up in bed and try to forget the feeling of getting questioned and beaten.

She looked back over her shoulder again and narrowed her eyes at the men who just turned onto the sidewalk, trying to remember if she had seen their faces at the club.  She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the form in front of her until it had grabbed her and dragged her into the alley next to them.  She tried to scream.  Maybe if she made enough noise, someone would do something, if just to stop the annoying noise.  But she couldn’t scream.  A hand over her mouth muted her screams.

Once they stopped moving, Marinette kicked behind her, trying to hit either the upper thigh or crotch.  Either should be enough to take the man down for a few seconds, long enough for her to get away.  But the man blocked her kick with his shin.  Marinette growled internally but felt at least a tiny bit better knowing it was going to be a hell of a bruise that he’d be feeling for days. She twisted to elbow him in the neck, but her reactions after her earlier encounter were just a few seconds slower than usual, enough to give him the opportunity to grab her arms and hold them against her body.

“Marinette stop...” Red Hood cried, his voice knocking her out of her tunnel vision and finally noticing who it was that grabbed her.

“What are you doing here?” she cut him off harshly.  Even with her bangs and hair obscuring her face after the slight struggle, her glare still came through.

“Patrol.  What are you doing here?” he countered in the same tone.

“Going home,” she growled.  “Are we done now?”  She leaned away from him and crossed her arms with a pout.  He continued to stare at her wordlessly waiting for her to elaborate.  If she was upset, especially upset enough to snap at him when they weren’t fighting, then she almost always would continue to talk, working through the problem and the anger as she did.  Instead, she looked down and pulled her jacket closer around her, refusing to look at him.

Jason arched an eyebrow at her reaction.  That was not normal.  “Marinette?” he prodded.

“What?” she hissed to the ground.

Jason stared at her for a few more seconds before finally taking a step closer and reaching to hook his finger under her chin. She moved to take a step away from him but she was already backed up against the alley wall.  Jason’s hand faltered.  Marinette had never reacted like this.  If anything, she would slap someone’s hand away if they tried to touch her.  For him, she would defiantly stand unmoving, refusing to give him any kind of reaction.  Occasionally, she would even lean into the touch.  But shying away?  Something was definitely wrong.

He removed his helmet to see her better and to make it less intimidating.  They were… well, whatever they were, they weren’t enemy enemies, especially not as Jason and Marinette.  He examined her a lot closer.  She had blood on her jacket and he was sure if she wasn’t holding it so close to her body, he’d see more on her shirt as well.  Her hair was sticking to an area on her neck and the angle she was holding her head carefully concealed her face.  He debated taking off his domino mask to get an even closer view of her injuries, but they were too exposed.  No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to do it.

He slowly took another step forward, waiting to see how she reacted to him.  When she didn’t shy away further, he hooked his finger under her chin again.  This time she let him and when he gently nudged her face up to look at him, she yielded.  His whole body went rigid.  “Who did this to you?”  His voice was low and deceptively calm, but she could hear the rage simmering under the surface.

She tried to break free from his hold to look away again, but he wouldn't let her.  “Who. Did. This. To. You,” he repeated, not bothering to hide the harshness in his tone this time.

“It doesn’t matter,” she grumbled looking anywhere but his eyes even as he moved her face around to see the damage.

“Jesus, Marinette!” he exclaimed, finally sweeping her hair away from her neck to expose the multiple cuts along her neck down to where her neck met her shoulder.  His jaw set harshly as he took in the bruise already forming around her eye and the cut in her brow.  A matching one on her forehead was still oozing blood down her face almost obscuring the deep bruise on her jaw.  He wouldn’t be surprised if it hadn’t been dislocated.  It would certainly explain why she wasn’t talking.  “How bad was the fight if you ended up like this even outside of your suit?”

She looked away refusing to meet his eyes. “You were wearing your suit, right?” he asked carefully.  Marinette set her lips defiantly, refusing to answer his questions.  Jason huffed out a frustrated growl.  “Why weren’t you in your suit?  And if you weren’t in your suit, why didn’t you transform?  Fuck, even if you weren’t in a suit you can protect yourself, how many of them were there if they were able to do this?”

Marinette stared at the ground for a few seconds trying to decide how much she was willing to expose.  “I was undercover,” she started.  Jason opened his mouth to object but she continued before he could chastise her for not transforming anyway.  “And there was no place for me to transform.  So unless I wanted everyone to know my identity, I had to deal with it as civilian me, who isn’t supposed to be able to fight.”

Jason tugged lightly at her coat to see the damage to her body.  “You should never have been in there alone.  I can’t believe B let you go in without backup.”

“I can take care of myself, J… Hood,” she growled as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself again, blocking him from seeing the bruises and cuts forming along her ribs and back.

“This is not taking care of yourself!” Jason yelled at her.

“If it would have gotten too bad, I would have stopped it,” she whisper yelled back.

Jason glared at her and considered again taking off the domino mask so she could feel the full impact of it.  “I asked who did this to you.”  His voice was softer but still laced with danger.

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “I'm not about to give you another person to kill, another body to add to the pile.”  Jason pursed his lips but didn’t interrupt her.  “This isn't about you.  This is about me.  And that won't make me feel better.”

He studied her furrowed brow and downturned lips, the look in her eyes and felt his own eyes softening.  He brushed the hair from her face and caressed the cheek that wasn’t hurt.  “What will?” he whispered softly.

“Being with someone who isn't a crime boss,” she whispered back.

He nodded and took a half step closer.  “You certainly deserve that,” he said breathlessly. He leaned down so his forehead ghosted hers, too afraid of causing more pain if he touched one of her wounds.  His breath fanned across her lips as he spoke.  “White picket fence, two kids, dog and a cat…”

“Loving partner,” she finished softly.

He nodded, his lips just missing hers by a hair’s breadth as he did.  “I could be that for you.”  He looked from her lips to her eyes, asking for permission to move closer.  Her eyes searched his for a moment before darkening and becoming hooded.  Jason leaned closer, but just before he made contact they heard footprints and loud talking at the end of the alley.  They looked over to see what was causing the ruckus and Marinette immediately went still, her entire body becoming rigid.

Jason felt the change without even having to look at her.  “These the guys that caught you earlier?” he asked without looking away from the threat. She nodded.  He nodded in response.  “Close your eyes,” he said calmly.

“Really?”  She stared at him incredulously.

“Yeah… if you let yourself get beaten up, hence,” he motioned toward her face, “then Marinette probably isn’t supposed to be a good fighter, so Marinette probably wouldn’t like watching violence either.”

“Marinette doesn’t like watching violence,” she reminded him pointedly.

“I hear you guys like beating up women,” Jason called loudly.  The men looked between themselves as if to confirm she was worth messing with Red Hood over, but continued forward anyway.  “You know how I feel about people who take advantage of women and kids.”  Their steps faltered slightly, but they must have thought their numbers would give them enough of an advantage.

Jason tensed for the fight, watching the men, calculating weaknesses and potential ins for him to exploit.  He only looked away when Marinette laid her hand on his arm. He looked at her questioningly.  “I don’t want anyone dead or hurt because of me,” she started quietly.

“Pixie,” he sighed.

“That includes you,” she continued, looking up at him through her eyelashes.  “So be careful, yeah?”

Jason stared at her for a second before his chest puffed up.  “They won’t lay a finger on me.” He smirked at her.  She nodded and closed her eyes, taking a step back to give him space to fight. She flinched occasionally at the sounds of hits landing and bodies smacking into alley walls before sliding down to the ground and not making any more noise.  After just a few minutes, there was no more noise except the soft sound of footsteps approaching.  She relaxed at the sound, recognizing Jason’s footsteps.

Jason’s fingers brushed gently along the edges of her face, waiting for her to open her eyes.  She slowly opened them with a weak smile.  “All good?”

Jason nodded back at her.  “Everyone’s alive and hopefully think my only interest was because a woman got beaten up, not who got hurt.  So your cover isn’t blown.”  He leaned in close to her with a smirk.  “And they never laid a finger on me.”

Marinette’s smile, though still weak, became stronger. “Glad to hear it.  And thank you.”

Jason continued staring in her eyes for a few moments before pulling away and reaching for her hand.  “Can I give you a ride home?  My bike’s just a block away.”

Marinette took his hand and squeezed it with a nod. He kicked one of the men as they walked past for extra measure.  

His delivery service included walking her all the way to her door.  She tried to tell him he could just drop her off at the sidewalk, but he insisted on making sure nobody was waiting for her.  Marinette unlocked her door and turned to him.  “Satisfied?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to check inside too? Or just… you know, keep you company?” Jason asked.  He leaned against the doorframe.

Marinette chuckled.  “I’ll be fine.  Good Night, Hood.”  She knocked his helmet gently before closing the door.  She took a deep breath as she looked around her apartment, dark and empty and alone.  She let the breath out sharply.  She turned around and yanked the door open, prepared to run after Jason.  He couldn’t have gotten too far, right?

Instead she braced for him to fall on her when she found him blocking the doorway, apparently as startled by the door opening as she was to open it.  Luckily, his arms were braced on either side of the door, or he would have fallen.  His head snapped up quickly from where it looked like he had been leaning it against the door.  “Marinette?”  His eyes immediately scanned the room behind her looking for any threats.

Marinette fumbled for what to say.  She hadn’t thought this far ahead.  “I… would … um, company tonight would be good… because…” She looked down, searching for what to say when her eyes caught on some blood.  “Cuts!  I have cuts. And help… uh bandaging… them would be good.”

Jason’s eyes softened and he smiled slightly.  He moved closer but kept a bit of distance between them.  “I have a lot of experience with that.”

Marinette moved to let him in.  He waited until she had closed and locked the door before he took his helmet off.  “Where’s your first aid kit?  I can grab it while you take your coat off and take a shower.”

“Bathroom under the sink.”  

He nodded and walked with her into the bathroom. He grabbed the kit while she removed her coat.  She tried unsuccessfully to contain her pained groan as she took off her coat, letting it drop to the ground, likely getting blood she’d have to clean later on the floors.  Jason eyed her warily.  “You sure you don’t need my help in the shower?  You don’t look too steady on your feet.”

Marinette waved him off.  “I’ll be okay.  Might be the world’s shortest shower, but I’ll manage.”

Jason didn’t look convinced but nodded anyway. “I’ll just wait outside the door then. Call for me if you need help.”

“Maybe wait for me in the kitchen instead,” Marinette suggested.  “I’m going to have to get to my room to change clothes.”

Jason nodded again.  “If it will make you more comfortable.”  He gave her one last concerned look before getting the supplies he anticipated using ready for them.

True to her word, Marinette’s shower was incredibly quick.  He heard her padding into another room, which he assumed was hers before coming back out to meet him in the kitchen.  He smiled at the adorable pajamas before grimacing once he noticed all the bruises and cuts that were now exposed.  

Marinette crawled up onto the island and fought just collapsing and falling asleep.  She closed her eyes and started to lean back, finally giving in.  “Op, don’t do that, Pixie.  It’ll help if you’re awake.  Otherwise I’m going to have to strip you to make sure I got all the cuts.”  He waggled his eyebrows at her.  Marinette rolled her eyes but huffed out a laugh in spite of herself.  

Jason smiled back for a moment before looking more serious.  “But judging by the blood, you will have to at least take off your shirt.”  Marinette groaned.  “Yeah, not the way I wanted it to happen either, but I can see blood starting to seep through your shirt already so, it looks like there’s a few cuts that will need to be bandaged.  We’ll save those for last though so you can keep your shirt on longer.”

Marinette watched him as he started carefully cleaning and bandaging her cuts.  His fingers were significantly gentler than she would have expected.  His face was the picture of concentration except for the mask still on his face.  He looked at her questioningly when she giggled.  “You going to keep that on all night?” Marinette asked tapping his domino mask.

Jason paused and slowly pulled the mask off, keeping eye contact with Marinette the entire time.  “Better?”  His voice was deep and husky and bordering on illegal.

Marinette froze for a second, putting all of her effort into not letting her breath hitch, she was suddenly very awake.  “Much,” she nodded absently.

Jason kept his eye contact for a few more seconds before continuing to the cuts on her neck, arms, and back.  Marinette let out a relieved breath when he finished with the last cut.  She would finally be able to put a shirt back on.  Sitting half naked in front of Jason, with her shirt bunched in front of her chest to protect her modesty, was killing her.  Each touch of his fingers against her bare skin was sending tiny shocks to her heart.  She didn’t know how much more of it she could take.  But then again, now that he was done, she didn’t know what he was going to do. She didn’t want him to leave, but she needed him too.  At the end of the day, and they were, in fact, at the end of this day, he was a crime boss and she was a hero.  This couldn’t continue.

She opened her mouth to thank him and ask him to leave when she felt a gentle pressure against her newly bandaged cut. Her body overflowed with electricity, warming her whole body.  Before she could even process it, he’d moved to the next bandage, laying a gentle kiss on it too.  He moved up to her neck and she couldn’t stop the whimper that forced its way out of her mouth.  He paused for a second and she could feel the smirk that spread across his lips.

He met her eyes and cupped her uninjured cheek before he leaned in to kiss her forehead.  He let his lips linger for a few seconds on that bandage before he moved onto her eyebrow.  He pulled away just enough to speak, his lips centimeters from hers.  “You know, some of these cuts… they’ll need to have the bandages changed.  You’ll need someone who knows what they’re doing to change them.”

Marinette nodded breathlessly.  “Know anyone?”

Jason smiled.  “I might have a recommendation.”  He looked down to her lips and back up to her eyes.  He took a deep breath and pulled away.  “You need to get some sleep.  Your body needs rest.”  Marinette stared at him in shock.  “Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” he offered quietly.

Marinette shook her head and he turned around while she struggled to get it back on.  Jason almost turned back around a few times at the groans and whimpers she was trying very hard to contain.  When the noises finally stopped he turned around tentatively.  He noted the exhausted look in her eyes and decided he had definitely made the right choice not to pursue anything tonight.

“Come on,” he picked her up in a bridal hold and carried her to the couch.  He sat down and placed her gently on his lap before wrapping his arms around her and leaning back against the couch arm.  

Marinette pulled away and looked down at him.  She blinked at him a few times trying to process what was going on.  Her lips quirked down sadly.  No matter how good his arms felt, no matter how magical his kisses felt, it all came back to one basic truth, she couldn’t be with him.  She couldn’t support his decisions.  She couldn’t stomach his methods.  And he had no interest in changing them.  “Jason…” she started.

A sad, understanding smile tugged at his lips.  “Yeah, I know.  Just for tonight.  I’ll keep you safe while you sleep.  Nobody will hurt you while I’m around.”

She gave him a bittersweet smile and laid back down on his chest.  “Okay. Thank you.”  She let his warmth and heartbeat relax her.  After a minute she spoke up again.  “No horror movies though.”

Jason laughed.  “I would never,” he promised and held her closer, carefully avoiding her bruises.  “I heard Marinette doesn’t like watching violence.”  Marinette chuckled and nuzzled into his chest.  She watched as Jason searched through the options, her eyes getting heavier with each passing second, the day, the beating, and Jason’s smell and warmth lulling her to sleep.  She was asleep before he even selected the BBC Pride & Prejudice miniseries.

Bonus:

Marinette blinked awake and looked around.  She didn’t remember getting to bed last night. She yawned and wrinkled her nose at the smell that assaulted her senses when she did.  She jumped out of bed and immediately cursed quietly at how badly that hurt.  She threw on a robe and made her way to the kitchen.  She froze and smiled when she got there.

“Morning, Pixie,” Jason smiled at her.  “How are you feeling this morning?”

She raised an eyebrow and leaned against the counter next to him.  “I’m confused.  I have a mob boss in my kitchen… burning breakfast for me.”

Jason scoffed.  “I’m not… oh shit!  It’s burning.”  He frantically pushed the pans off the stove, glaring half-heartedly at Marinette’s laughter. “See if I make breakfast for you ever again,” he grumbled through a poorly concealed smile.

Marinette’s laughs lessened to chuckles.  “Please don’t.  I don’t have fire insurance.”

Continued in You’re Mine

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @jayjayspixiepop