#jason's JACKET on the other hand... now THAT'S a character. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

threestarsinline · 8 months ago

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Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part I)

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.

Word Count: 13.6K (total of 29.2K)

Category: Lots and lots of fluff. Like, LOTS (plus some mutual pining, idiots in love, slow burn? and friends to lovers, and therefore, what all of that entails, mwah)

Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)

Author’s note: Well, here's the proof that yes, I was writing hehehe. Anyway, enjoy this monster of a two-part fic, peace and love babes

>Part II

You loved your job. You really truly did. It might seem like a bold statement to make but when you spend your day to day in a quiet, lovely and vintage styled bookshop owned by the most wonderful couple of old people that you have ever met, who also treat you as their own granddaughter, you know that you could have it a lot worse in Gotham. You often forget that they are technically your bosses, or co-workers as they always corrected you when you referred to them as such.

Rose and Jimmy hired you a long time ago now, when they weren’t able to run the bookshop fulltime by themselves anymore due to the rise of popularity of the place (even though the customers were still just a close community of people from the neighborhood). And also because, after decades of running the bookshop, they wanted to finally kind of retire and do a few travels to places they wanted to see or visit their children scattered throughout the country.

So there you were, practically running all by yourself a small but successful business each week.

However, you weren’t bothered at all, it was perfect for you: working alone with no annoying co-workers or stressful deadlines, a flexible schedule since Rose and Jimmy would replace you here and there whenever you needed it and giving you free days out of the blue.

It also didn’t hurt that the job allowed you to stay in touch with the thing that you loved the most: books. Pages, full of stories that could transport you anywhere, to any time. Words, creating characters that became your family and made you laugh while also breaking your heart with their tragedies. And the possibility of sharing all of this with the people who came into the bookshop from all kinds of different backgrounds made it all even better.

Let’s just say that you couldn’t believe your luck when you got this job. Your day to day consisted of, among other things, attending customers, organizing the bookshelves, doing inventory and most of all: reading. There were certain moments of the day in which the shop was quite uneventful so you would seize those moments by doing all the reading that you could.

You really thought that you couldn’t love your job more. But that was until a gorgeous and very mysterious young man with a white streak in his hair started coming every week into the shop and giving you a smile every time that he left.

You got it bad.

And your crush on Jason Todd did nothing but increase. You were sure that that man was going to be the death of you.

The first time that Jason walked into the bookshop you were surprised to say the least. You had never seen him in the shop before yet he walked towards a section in the bookshelves of the back with firm and secure steps.

He came back to the register with three children’s books to check out. That surprised you even more. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person that you would expect to get children’s books. He had a rough appearance with his tall frame, dark hair and (fake) leather jacket.

But he was nothing but polite as he greeted you and handed you his bookshop card.

The shop also acted as a library with several books, Rose and Jimmy having implemented the idea after there was an attack at the public library that left the place in reforms for months.

It also allowed the people who couldn’t buy books that regularly to still be able to have new books since you only had to pay for the card when you first got it and pay the small fee for the membership every two months. Or every month if you wanted more perks like extended loans or not having a limit on the amount of books allowed to be checked out.

Most of that money was also directly donated to different causes in Gotham like orphanages and homeless shelters. The community loved Rose and Jimmy for all of that, it was like they were their guardian angels, some customers had told you that they were godsent.

As you proceeded to scan the books that the mysterious young man had brought you, you realized that his card was fairly new and came to the conclusion that Rose must have given it to him the week before, when you had your free day.

“Do you have The Rainbow Fish? I tried to look for it but I couldn’t find it.” He spoke up and you looked up at him, surprised once more, since most people either loved or hated that book.

“Uhm. If it’s not on the shelf, it must have been checked out. Let me see.” You looked it up on the computer. “Yeah, someone took it a few days ago. We should have it by next week, I can keep it in reserve for you if you’d like.” The information seemed to please him since his face lighted up and he let out a sigh of relief.

“That would be great, thank you.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.” You gave him back the books and his card and as you looked at him you realized that he had a very nice smile. You wondered if he would come back often to the bookshop.

“You too.” He said as he opened the door.

And in fact, he did come back to the bookshop rather often, at least once a week and always looking for children’s books. You were very curious about it since it wasn’t very common to see a man like him taking so many children’s books with him.

You couldn’t help but speculate, maybe he was close with kids in his family or maybe he did some kind of volunteering. Either way, you weren’t going to ask, it was out of place and you didn’t know him.

Then, he started checking out other books, this time fiction and most of all classic literature. He sometimes even bought the ones that really brought out his attention. He would always strike up friendly conversation with you as he came to the counter with new books to buy or check out, asking you about some book or asking you for recommendations.

On your most brave days, not really knowing what you were doing, you would even make a comment about the books that he was taking with him and he answered you with enthusiasm, commenting on them with you.

Soon, you were on a first name basis with him and something similar to a friendship blossomed between you two. You started giving snippets of each other's lives, you telling him about a show that you were watching that you really liked or him telling you about one of his siblings’s latest shenanigans.

Jason coming into the shop became something that you looked forward to and Rose and Jimmy, who some days spend the day in the shop helping you out, also saw how close you two were becoming.

Jason even befriended them too and the owners soon treated him like a grandson just like they had done with you so long ago. Jimmy sometimes shoved in his hand his famous homemade cookies and Rose tried to give him a discount for the books that he bought but Jason, like always, refused to accept it.

“What? You’re supposed to leave them inside, it’s on the delivery contract.” You add frustrated.

“Whatever you say. Not my problem.” The new delivery man doesn’t even look at you as he recklessly puts the last of the boxes of new book orders on the sidewalk.

Looking at the now damaged box you grimace. You really hoped that the books inside were okay. They were like your babies.

The man takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out on top of one of the boxes knowingly, looking you dead in the eyes as if challenging you to say something else.

You know that starting a confrontation would get you nowhere, it would be better to file a complaint later that you know would have consequences for him since the delivery service and the bookshop had always had a trusting relationship.

So, knowing to pick your battles, you put on a smile and thank him. The man seems surprised at that, surely used to having excuses to play the bully. He just huffs, gets on the truck and leaves. You nod to yourself proudly, you won. But your small, triumphant moment ends as soon as you see the large number of boxes that you now have to carry inside on your own.

Oh, how you missed Charlie.

Charlie was the delivery man before he retired. It had been his job for more than fifty years and even now he was as strong as ever and he had always helped you with the boxes and made you laugh with his adventures from his younger years.

You always gave him a cup of coffee from the machine in the small back room that worked as a break room as he tried to set you up with his grandchildren. Telling you how amazing they were and how one of them was about to become a doctor.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m sure they’re great.” You would always tell him. Because they did sound nice but none of them lived in Gotham. Charlie then would fake a disappointed sigh but the crinkles of a smile around his eyes would always appear.

“Well, let me know if you change your mind, sweetie.” A pause. “Though you should forget about trying here, there isn’t anyone worthy in this godforsaken city.” He would joke.

“Except you, Charlie.” You’d say brightly while winking at him jokingly. And then he would laugh the way only one can when they are satisfied with their life and as happy as they can be, something very rare.

“Don’t let Mary hear you, I know she doesn’t look like it but she can throw a punch.” His eyes would shine with love as he mentioned his wife.

“I don’t doubt it.” You’d answer.

You are brought out of your memories when a voice calls your name.

“Y/N, hi.” You turn to see Jason and you can't help the immediate smile that makes its way across your lips.

“Hi. How are you?”

“I’m good. I was just about to go in when I saw you out here. What’s all of this?” He looks around at all the boxes that the pedestrians were avoiding.

“Delivery day.” You say as you take one of the boxes in your arms. His eyes widen. With that funny expression on his face he looked cute, which made him even more handsome than usual. It wasn’t even fair.

Focus, Y/N.

“And you always do this alone?”

“No, the new delivery guy is just an idiot. Charlie always helped me.”

“Charlie?” He raises an eyebrow as he too grabs a box from the floor.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“I’m helping you.” He replies without hesitation, you shake your head.

“I can’t let you do that, you’re a customer.”

“It’s no problem. Plus, this way you will finish this earlier and you can recommend me another book after the heartbreak that you gave me with the last one.”

“Sorry.” You say, trying to contain a giggle. He narrows his eyes at you.

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not.” You confess, this time laughing freely.

You didn’t know it but Jason thought that you looked beautiful. Even more so than some days, if that was even possible, with the wind carrying your laugh to him and rustling your hair. God, he was in deep.

“So, are you going to let me help you or not?”

“Fine.” You finally comply.

And as you two enter the boxes he repeats his question from earlier. “Well, who’s Charlie?”

“Oh, just the best delivery old man you will ever meet.” You answer, your affection for the man clearly present in your voice.

“Do you collect them?”

“What?” You ask confused.

“Grandparents, old people. You have your own grandparents, Rose, Jimmy and now I learn about this Charlie. Do you collect them?” You smile at his comment. Truth was, he had a point.

“Well, I guess you could say that. In fact, now that I think about it, most of my friends are old people. I mean, it kind of makes sense, my perfect Friday night is staying at home reading with a hot chocolate.” For a moment silence settles between you and you worry that you might have overshared and that you were creeping him out.

“You’re an old soul.” He finally says. And the way that he does so makes you stop, like he admires you for it, as if he likes the peace that comes with such a statement.

“Maybe.” You reply, resuming your step.

“I wish I could do that.” You arch an eyebrow. “Stay at home at night during the weekends and just relax.” He adds.

“Why’s that?”

“I work nights.”

“Oh. It must be hard.”

“Yeah, sometimes it is.” After saying that his gaze gets lost, as if for a moment he wasn’t there with you anymore, but deep into his thoughts and memories.

“Do you have any? Grandparents, I mean.” You say to distract him and bring him back.

“Just one, Alfred. Although he is in more the middle of being a father and a grandfather. He raised me along with Bruce.” As soon as he says that, you know that he is just as surprised at himself as much as you are at the confession since it is by far the most personal thing that he had ever shared with you.

It is also clear that there was a lot of history behind that statement. It seems a serious matter and the other times that you two talked, he mostly kept it lighthearted with you.

The mysterious man that had first entered into the bookshop had let you see a crack in him. He trusts you. Or at least, he was beginning to do so in a more personal way. You only feel lucky that you are being able to get closer to him.

You sense how his instinct to flight was about to strike, clearly not used to this kind of situation and being awkward about how to manage it. So, you decide to change the topic, in what you think is a smooth way, to relax the ambience and to selfishly see if you could keep him at your side just a little bit longer.

“Well, I can share Rose and Jimmy with you then. As long as you don’t steal my spot as their favorite bookshop grandkid.” Just as you finish talking you see him visibly relax, his tense shoulders acquiring a more loosen stance.

Then, almost unnoticeably, a small smile forms on his lips and another one makes its way to your own.

“Deal.” He ends up saying.

After you both bring in all the boxes, and you check them into the inventory, you open them to put the books in the correspondent shelves. You turn to thank Jason for the help but he's already passing you some of the books for you to place them.

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do this. You already did too much.”

“Nope. I’m not leaving.” He just hands you the books in his grasp and grabs some more. You stand there stunned. Where did this gorgeous kind man come from?

“Okay. At least let me give you a coffee.” You go to the break room and not even a moment later, after quickly asking him how he liked it, not even giving him the option to refuse it, you return with a cup in your hands. He whispers a thank you and when you hand it to him, his fingers so lightly graze yours, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“You don’t want one?” He asks, seeing that you had only brought a single cup.

“Oh, I don’t like coffee much.” He nods and then you get to work, looking at the books, classifying them and ordering them.

Jason keeps passing them to you and sipping the coffee in the comfortable silence. He’s glad that you’re so concentrated because that way you won’t notice how entranced he is with you. He watches you and just by your movements he knows that you’re in your element. It was clear that you enjoyed what you did.

At some point, you start humming a repertoire of the songs from Beauty and the Beast, probably without realizing it. Jason doesn’t mention it, knowing that most likely you would become ashamed and stop.

So, Jason lets the moment pass by, your company and the peaceful atmosphere of the bookshop making a warm feeling wash over him. Making him feel safe and relaxed. Something that didn’t usually happen to him, but that being in the bookshop and in your presence, always made him feel that way.

When he eventually left, you didn’t even realize that he had done so without taking any book with him.

“Hey.”

The sudden voice makes you stumble on the ladder that you were on to return a book to its place in one of the top shelves. You know that there is nothing that you can do to prevent your fall but still in a hopeful attempt, you drop the book that was in your hand to the floor, and extend your arms to try and gain some balance.

All of this happens in milliseconds and even then, you have time to exclaim “Jesus!” from the surprise, preparing yourself in any way you can for your imminent fate.

However, just as fast as it all happened, a hand settles on your waist to stabilize you and another one grips the ladder to stop its wobbling. And just like that, you’re back on your feet again. You look down and there he is.

Your knight in shining leather jacket.

“Not exactly but close enough.” Jason can’t help replying to your previous exclamation. It had never crossed his mind before but now that he thinks about it, he realizes that he has something quite peculiar in common with the biblical figure. With all the ‘been dead done that’ stuff. The weird coincidence and his own comment making him chuckle to himself.

You also huff out a small laugh, not at his comment, that you couldn't possibly fully understand, not yet, but at your own clumsiness. Laughing being almost always your immediate reaction whenever you fell or, like in this case, almost did.

“Oh my god, thank you.” You say relieved with a thankful smile on your face.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry actually, you almost died because of me.”

“No, don’t worry, you just surprised me. Plus, me and high places have never been a great combination.” He chuckles at your comment and you smile in return.

Much to your disappointment, he lets go of your waist, but it doesn’t last long as he holds out his hand for you to help you come down from the ladder. You know that he’s just being polite and that you should finish what you were doing on the ladder but after the brief scare you’d like to put your feet on firm ground again for even just a small bit.

That, and the fact that you would take any chance that you could get to be close to Jason and hold his hand. Honestly, who wouldn’t?

So, you accept his hand and, just to be even more safe and avoid any possible risk of course, not for any other reason, you support yourself on his shoulder on the way down. He leads you to the ground with a small smile on his face and then sadly, lets go of your hand.

You miss the contact instantly.

“There we go.” He says, so low, that it’s almost like a whisper.

You take a moment to address him and look him over, the feel of his strong shoulder under your hand still tickling your fingers at your side. And for a split second, just a tiny little one, you wish that you had actually fallen from the ladder so that he could have caught you in his arms.

Damn it.

Now that the idea had occurred to you, you would think about it for days.

Jason leans down to retrieve the book that you had dropped earlier and with an ease and balance that you could only dream of, he returns it to the open spot that you had been reaching for on the top shelf. It makes you both jealous and in awe of the way in which he can almost effortlessly do so. Even though even he had to step onto the first step of the ladder to reach it.

Stupid tall attractive people.

Jason enters the bookshop excited to see you. He hadn’t been able to come by for a few days and he did not like it one bit. Coming to see you were the best parts of his week, because if he was being honest, the books themselves had stopped being a motivator a long time ago.

Probably the second or third time that he had visited the bookshop.

He was just thankful that you didn’t seem to notice that you were the main reason that he came by. You would probably think that he was being creepy. However, much to his dismay, Rose and Jimmy were very much aware of how much he liked you.

They always had that knowing smile whenever they saw you two talking and they definitely knew about the insane amount of books that he checked out weekly as an excuse to see you. Books that were impossible for him to read from one visit to another in such a short amount of time and that just spent several days stacked in his house.

Thankfully, for the moment, they had never said something to you or directly commented it to him either, as they wisely knew that you two needed to take things at your own pace.

He closes the entrance door behind him and his brows furrow in confusion not seeing you behind the counter, where he would usually find you reading or taking care of a customer. Maybe you’re in the bathroom, doing something in the break room or organizing the shelves.

But then, Rose emerges from the break room behind the counter greeting him.

Oh.

A slight feeling of disappointment settles in him. It’s not that he didn't like Rose, he really enjoyed chatting with her, he just really wanted to see you. And if Rose was here maybe you weren’t working today. But it couldn’t be, you always worked Thursdays.

Not that he had paid any attention to your schedule or anything.

Then it suddenly occurs to him that maybe you have taken the day off. He’s as happy for you as much as he’s disappointed. Everyone knew that you worked too much for your own good.

Still, the selfish part of him wanted to spend just a tiny little bit of time with you.

“Good afternoon, Rose. How are you?” Jason finally greets back.

“I’m good, sweetie, just checking day. And you?”

“Glad to hear it. I’m fine too. Just came in looking for…” Damn it, he didn’t even prepare an excuse of a book. A few seconds trail on and Jason still doesn’t say anything.

“For a…” He had been caught like a deer in headlights. He avoids Rose’s intense gaze that was still set on him waiting for him to say something. This is so embarrassing. And he was supposed to be one of the daring vigilantes of Gotham?

Pathetic. That’s what he was.

He could face villains but he couldn’t come up for an excuse to see you. Jason clears his throat.

“For a…” Jason’s starting to worry that he has entered some sort of self loop and is about to facepalm himself for his own stupidity when Rose’s lips break into a wide grin and she chuckles. She was messing with him. Like always, she definitely knew what exactly he was in there for. Jason smiles and lets out a sigh of relief.

“She’s on her break.” Rose says, nodding his head in your direction, towards the shelves.

“Thank you.” Jason turns to go find you when Rose speaks up once again.

“Oh and, by the way, since you’re on it, can you get her for me please? I want to tell her something and I’m about to meet Jimmy for lunch.”

“Of course.” He answers while Rose gives him a thankful smile.

Jason starts to pace through the bookshelves, looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found.

Until he passes by between a couple of them and sees something on the floor. He takes a couple of steps back and there you are, sitting on the floor with books about to be shelved, he supposes, and a book in your own hands that must have had you so immersed and distracted that you hadn’t heard him come in, nor his conversation with Rose.

A fond smile makes an appearance on his lips. He loved seeing you like this, in the place that you loved most, doing what you loved most, lost in a book. He realizes that he would never get tired of that sight. Still, it’s an intimate and private moment for you and he doesn’t want to linger too much on it and intrude. Plus, Rose was looking for you.

“Hi.” He says softly as to not startle you, after the scare from the last time. Which by the way, had been replaying in his head over and over again, the electrifying feeling of your hand in his forever engraved in his mind.

“Y/N.” He tries.

Nothing. That book really had you in a trance. He huffs a small laugh and takes a couple of steps closer to you, hands in his pockets.

“Earth to Y/N.” You let out a small hum to acknowledge him but your gaze is still fixed on the ink. He’s about to call you again when you finally get out of your trance and steal a quick look to see who had talked to you.

Your eyes widen like plates, probably realizing that you had spent too long reading on the floor. You quickly get up and Jason notices how even in your distressed state, you close the book with care and slightly organize the mess around you, your hands treating each book carefully.

He wonders if you would treat him with the same carefulness and affection. For a split second, he even wishes it was him that your hands were treating and not books. Jealousy over books. Huh, that was new.

He also couldn’t help but wonder if you were that way with everything. If even when you weren’t at your best, or going through something, treating things, people, the world around you with care and kindness came as second nature to you, sometimes without even realizing it. He had a feeling that the answer was yes.

And once again, he realizes how much the dark part of his life clashed so much with yours. But before he can get too much into his own head, once more, just like several times before, you bring him back.

“Oh my god, Jason, I’m so sorry.” You start, taking the few steps that separated you from him. “I don’t know how it happened, I swear. God, were you waiting a lot?” He doesn’t like the worry settled on your features one bit, like always, making him feel uneasy. Like the other previous few times that he has seen you like this, he makes it his mission and his top priority to change it.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry.” You nod while your tense posture finally seems to relax a bit. “You okay?” He adds.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… Got a little bit distracted.” You say as you retrieve the books from the floor and your head motions towards them. Jason smiles at you, knowing the feeling of being so engrossed in a book that everything else faded away.

“Rose was looking for you by the way. She was about to head out to meet Jimmy.”

“Oh, right.”

When you both go back towards the counter and you take your usual spot behind it, Rose is already putting her coat on and about to leave.

“I’m so sorry Rose, I got myself carried away and…” You start but Rose stops you with a shake of her head.

“It’s okay, honey. Just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving now.” You let out a sigh of relief. You really have the best bosses in the world.

“Okay, have a nice lunch.”

“Thank you, darling. Goodbye kids.”

“Goodbye.” Both you and Jason say. And just before Rose closes the door behind her, she winks at you and you feel your cheeks warm at the unspoken insinuation. Enjoy your time alone. You steal a quick look at Jason, hoping that he hasn’t seen Rose’s wink and sigh in relief when you see that he’s already turned towards you, facing away from the door.

Though, now that you think about it, you could swear that it was Jimmy the one that was supposed to meet Rose at the bookshop today, not the other way around. That woman was too smart for her own good.

“Well, what can I do for you today?” You ask Jason once you turn towards him.

“I…” Quick, Jason, think. “Could you extend my loan for the book from last week?” Nice save.

“Sure.” As you click on the computer, Jason takes a look at the stack of books that you had brought back with you from the shelves and that you have left on the counter.

“What got you so entranced back there?”

“Oh.” You say and you turn to the stack of books. Your eyes shining with excitement now. “We just got these new Jane Austen hardcovers and they’re just so gorgeous, look.”

You take the one on top of the stack, the one that you had been reading, and hand it to him. Pride and Prejudice. He takes it from your hands, your fingertips slightly grazing one another’s. Jason looks at the cover that feels soft yet sturdy in his hands. It was simple with just the title of the book and Austen’s name but the intricate and beautiful designs that decorated it made it, as you had said, a gorgeous edition.

“Wow. These are great.” He says with childlike wonder lacing his tone. He opens the book and his eyes skim over the pages and passages that he has read so many times before.

“I know, right? I was just admiring them one last time before putting them on the shelves and I just opened one to read a couple of paragraphs but next thing I know, I was ten pages in. I swear I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You confess. Jason laughs softly.

“Don’t worry, that’s just the Jane Austen effect. I get it, it happens to me too.” You can’t help but stare at him for a few seconds, blinking slowly, processing the newfound information. Thankfully, he’s still engrossed in the book.

This man likes Jane Austen? Is he trying to kill you or something? As if you couldn’t like him even more.

“You like Austen?” You ask, still a bit in disbelief, though it doesn’t really surprise you, since from the very beginning you had noticed how he was a very cultured person and how he had a great taste in books.

How sexy is that? To you, very. Very sexy.

“I love her. Basic, I know, but this one’s my favorite.” He answers as he puts the book back on top of the stack. As if anything in him could be basic, as if you don’t find him to be one of the most fascinating persons that you have ever met in your entire life.

“It’s not basic, it’s great. I love it too but I think that I prefer Northanger Abbey.” You pause. “Or Persuasion.” You pause again. “Or Emma.” You pause to think once more and Jason looks at you amused, loving how passionate you are when talking about it. “Or… Okay well, I love all of them! I can’t choose just one.” Jason smirks.

“Perfectly valid and understandable answer.” He says. You both look at each other for a second too long and then his phone starts ringing, breaking the moment. You give a slight jump and busy yourself going back to finish renewing his loan on the computer.

But to your surprise, he just takes it out of his pocket, looks quickly at the screen and directly hangs up. You raise an eyebrow but continue with your task, a small smile making its way across your lips, flattered that he prefers to keep talking to you rather than picking up his phone.

“Well, done. You have another week to…” You’re interrupted when his phone rings again. Jason huffs annoyed and silences it again.

“Sorry.” He says. You shake your head.

“It’s okay.” The phone rings a third time. It must be really important. “Though I think you should take it.” Jason looks at his phone in his hands, then at you, back at his phone, and then at you again, still doubtful, but you nod encouragingly. He seems torn and undecided, but he finally nods to himself and gives you an apologetic look before answering.

“What?” He says annoyingly, taking a couple of steps away from the counter as you pretend to check things on the computer and try (and fail) not to eavesdrop.

He’s going to kill Steph. He really is. She never calls him and now there is something so important that she has to call him three times and interrupt his talk with you? It better be good.

“Heyyy. Jaybiiird. My bestieeee, the best vigilante in Gotham that there is.” Jason can already start to feel a headache forming, he brings a palm to his face and then runs it through his hair. You watch the gesture with envy. How many times had you daydreamed about doing the very same gesture? Probably too many.

“I can’t talk right now.” He quickly glances at you, still at the computer. This is stupid.

“Pleaseeee, I need your help.” At her pleading tone Jason sighs tiredly and pinches his nose, even though he knows that he shouldn’t be listening. With the way that she’s talking it’s probably a stupid favor or something, he would much rather be talking with you.

“Steph, what do you want?”

Steph? At that your head perks up slightly. His girlfriend, maybe? Your shoulders deflate thinking of the possibility. He had never mentioned having one but you also had never asked. Why would you even ask? You’re just friends, or something like that, it would seem like it was coming out of nowhere. As your thoughts keep spiraling and you stare blankly at the screen in front of you, Jason carries on with his conversation.

“You’re going to laugh…” Steph starts.

Jason rolls his eyes, catches your eyes and mouths my sister. You just nod and your spiraling thoughts stop abruptly. Thank god. Although the possibility of him having a girlfriend is still there, now that you don’t have to face it directly, you decide not to linger too much on it. Keeping the thought away and trying to ignore it, just like you had been doing since you met him. That’s a future problem for future you.

Jason changes his phone from one ear to the other as he listens to Steph stumble through her words. If she’s going to keep beating around the bush, he might as well hang up.

“Okay, bye.” He’s about to end the call when Steph speaks up again.

“I lost Damian.” Jason’s eyes widen as he turns to his other side.

“You what?” He whisper-shouts into the phone.

“Okay so, Damian is grounded, okay? Something about driving the batmobile without permission and then…”

“Steph.” Jason warns through gritted teeth, clearly meaning go to the point.

“Okay, okay! So, I’m on babysitting duty alright? And Damian had been talking non stop about this new limited art exposition in the museum that he wanted to go to and that it wasn’t fair that he was grounded and blah blah blah.”

“Okay, and?”

“And… Well, there was this new season of this show coming out today and I just got distracted for a bit and then he kinda… Disappeared?” God. Jason closes his eyes in frustration. His family really knew how to be the most infuriating at the worst of times. He stays silent for a moment mentally cursing them before opening his eyes again.

“Told you you were going to laugh…” Steph repeats at his silence and Jason sighs, making you giggle quietly at the sibling interaction. Jason smiles at the sound.

“So what? Just go to the museum after him.” He finally answers.

“That’s the thing, I am at the museum and I just can’t find him. Damn that kid and his ninja training.” Steph hisses through the line. “Can you come and help me find him please?” He could hear her pouting.

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one that picked up.” And now he was sure that she was smiling innocently but full of mischief. Jason huffs. As soon as he saw Steph’s name on his screen he knew that he shouldn’t have picked up.

“No.” He says.

“Come on, pleaseeee. I’ll owe you one. If I don’t find Damian I will be the one that’s grounded next.” Honestly, who had put her on babysitting duty? Who had even grounded Damian to begin with? It was impossible to try and control that kid.

Damn it, Bruce.

“Bruce can’t ground you.”

“Oh yes, he can. I’m sure he’ll find a way. He’ll make me go supervise Condiment King or something! Please, Jason, please." Jason sighs. “Please, please, please, please. I’ll do all the research that you need for a week!” Mmhm. That’s interesting. That would certainly leave him with more time to see you.

“A month.” He counteroffers and sees you smiling at his bickering, making his insides feel giddy. Steph groans.

“A month? You know that’s too much.”

“Do you want my help or not?” Silence.

“Arrrg, okay, okay! Well, we’ll talk about it, now, can you please come here?”

“With pleasure.” He says amused. Even though his family can be infuriating at times, he had to admit that they had their good moments and he enjoyed annoying them just as much as they did him.

“You’re so arrogant, oh my god. I pity whoever decides to put up with you.” Steph says and Jason can’t help but steal a glance in your direction.

“Just remember that you owe me a big one.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just come here. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.”

“Okay.” Before he hangs up, he hears Steph speak up again.

“Hey Jaybird.” Jason hums. “Thanks.” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Bye.”

“And say hi to Y/N for me-!” He hangs up before you can hear Steph’s loud teasing voice. He knew that talking about you in front of his family wasn’t the best of ideas but he just couldn’t help it. You occupied his thoughts a lot more than what he was willing to admit.

“Sorry.” He says as he approaches the counter once again and puts his phone in his pocket.

“It’s okay. Sibling drama then?” You ask playfully as you raise an eyebrow.

“You have no idea. It was Steph, she used to date one of my brothers. Tim.” You look at him confused.

“I thought you said she was your sister?”

“Yeah, I mean- it’s… It’s complicated. That was how we met her but she’s like a sister to me now.”

“I see.”

“Sorry, we’re quite a mess.” He chuckles awkwardly, running his hand through his hair and the white streak once again. The movement, like always, has you hypnotized. It should be illegal. Jason thinks that he should just stop talking, now he has weirded you out with his stupid and crazy family.

“Aren’t we all?” You say softly as you tilt your head in the cutest of ways. Honestly, the more that he told you about his family, the more you realized how peculiar they were. But they seemed really close to each another, which was what really mattered.

“Yeah… I guess so.” He trails on as he gets lost in your eyes again. You nod and he shakes out of his daze. “Well, I should get going. Duty calls.” He adds as he nods towards the door and taps his fingers against his side of the counter nervously.

“Okay. Hope everything goes well with whatever it is.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time.” Something about the security of knowing that he will always come back, and that there will always be a next time with him, raises goosebumps on your skin.

“Yeah. Next time.” You both look at each other as he walks towards the door.

Something lingers in the air, as if both of you want to say something else but do not dare to do so. Do not dare to cross the invisible line in your strange friendship usually defined by the safety of the counter that almost always stayed between you two in your interactions.

Jason grabs the door handle and holds it open for a moment as you speak one last time.

“See you soon then?” It’s a stupid sentence, already remarking what you both have already said, but it’s as good of an excuse as any to make him stay just a few seconds longer.

“See you soon.” Jason nods smiling at you and then, the door closes behind him.

You’re reading at the counter when the bell on top of the door jingles. You look up, hoping to find green eyes but are met with a stressful boy looking around the shop. As if in his distressed state, he can’t find you behind the counter.

“Hi.” You say as you bookmark your page. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh. Hi. Yeah.” He says as he quickly approaches you. He shakes his head to move the hair out of his blue eyes and takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. His hunched posture and shaky mannerisms tells you that he hasn’t caught a break in a while. This poor boy needs a rest.

“I’ve been looking for this book everywhere and I can’t find it anywhere. It’s my boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow, he loves mysteries and conspiracies and I need to find it. My brother told me that this is the best bookshop in all of Gotham and that you can find anything here.” He rambles as he gives you the piece of paper. You take the paper and look at the boy as he slightly bounces on his feet looking around the shop.

You raise an eyebrow. A distracted boy that seems to always be running and a brother that recommends the bookshop? Sounds quite familiar.

“Tim?” You can’t help but guess, though you’re still a bit unsure. Jason had mentioned him a few times and how his younger brother always seemed to be doing a hundred things at once. At that his bouncing stops abruptly and finally looks at you for more than a few fleeting seconds, suspicious of how you know his name.

“Sorry, hi. I’m Y/N. Jason comes here often and has mentioned you a few times.” You say nervously. The information seems to take a little bit longer than usual to register due to his distressed state but then when he finally recognizes you, his alert posture relaxes.

“Oh, Y/N! Hi, yes. I’m Tim. Nice to meet you.” He says as he holds out his hand and you shake it. “Jason talks about you too.” He adds. You feel your cheeks go warm.

“Well, nice to meet you too. Are you okay? You seem a bit stressed.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just that I’ve been putting together this party for my boyfriend and the gift is being so hard to find it’s giving me headaches. Please tell me that you can help me.”

“Of course.” You say. “But first, take a deep breath.” He looks at you as if he doesn’t know what you mean. “You need to rest and relax a bit if you want to make it to your boyfriend’s birthday tomorrow without dropping from exhaustion.” You nod encouraging him and then take a deep breath yourself so that he can imitate you. Thankfully, he does so after shaking his shoulders to release tension and then stays with his eyes closed, taking a moment.

“Better?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He answers, opening his eyes.

You nod. “No problem. Let’s find that book.” You look at the piece of paper and type in the title and author of the book on the system. It’s a limited edition of a book about the old history of Gotham and thankfully, you have one copy in the storage room. “Got it. I’ll be right back.” Tim sighs in relief as you leave the counter.

When you come back, you bring the book and a cup of coffee from the break room with you.

“This is so that you can get home to rest until tomorrow without dying on the way.” You say as you slide the coffee towards him.

“Oh thanks, but it’s not necessary.” You stare at him, having clearly seen how the idea of coffee almost had him glowing.

“Okay, okay.” He chuckles as he goes to take the coffee but you keep the cup in place.

“Promise that when you get home, you will rest. Do not take anymore coffee so that you can keep organizing things.” Tim looks at you, your firm tone and kind intentions making him clearly see why Jason is so smitten with you. He can also easily see himself trusting you and becoming friends with you.

“Promise.” He says honestly. You nod, letting go of the cup. "If you want more milk or sugar-" You can't even finish the sentence as he shakes his head, having already taken the cup into his hands and taken a sip.

“Mm, not necessary. This is great. Thank you.”

You smile. “You’re welcome. Do you want to wrap the book?”

“Yes, please.” He says.

“The Rainbow Fish? Again?” You say chuckling as Jason puts it on the counter for what probably was the third or fourth time. You really were starting to run out of options wondering why he always checked out so many kids’ books. But it just felt very intrusive to ask, he never said anything more about it either, probably not wanting to talk about it much.

“Yeah.” He says as you scan the book and pass his card on the system.

“I loved this book when I was little.” A nostalgic look on your eyes as you gaze at the cover of the book, remembering the silver scales of the arrogant fish that he had to give away in order to be accepted instead of just being a nicer fish.

The message of the book in the end was good: not think of yourself as superior to others. But there was something about having to give up something that you were proud of and that was special about you in order to be accepted that always felt a little off putting to you when you grew up, especially when being kind could have just resolved everything.

“Though it sure as hell began my people pleasing problems.” You add giggling a bit without thinking. But when what you have said registers, you freeze, hands on the book and blank stare on them, not daring to look up at Jason.

Where the fuck did that come from?

You shut your eyes, praying to whatever was out there to let you die of embarrassment. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You had definitely freaked him out. That’s it. He would walk out of the bookshop and never come back. Why would you even say that? You weren’t thinking, that’s it. It had just slipped. You had become so used to being able to be yourself and talk about everything with Jason that it just felt so easy and comfortable to say whatever was on your mind.

Finally, you decide to sentence your fate and just end with this terribly awkward conversation as soon as possible.

“Sorry.” You say. “I honestly don’t know where that came from.” Jason just chuckles though not in a mocking manner, but in an understanding way.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” He assures you. You look back down, missing Jason’s look of appreciation, loving your honesty and how flustered you were. He found it endearing. “Well, thanks.” He says as he goes to take the book on the counter.

Your whole body then tenses in alarm when you see the state of his hands, which until now, had been hidden in his pockets. Without thinking, once again, (seriously, what was wrong with you today?), you take his hands to take a closer look at them.

Jason lets out a small gasp as you do so and mentally smacks himself for letting you see his wounded knuckles, now him being the one that wanted to die of embarrassment. It was only so much that the gloves of his Red Hood gear could do to protect them.

“What happened?” You whisper, worry etched onto every single one of your features.

Fuck.

How had he been so careless? He should have bandaged them, hidden them better or put make up on them. He just wasn’t used to having someone worry about him and his wounds like you were right now. At his silence, you try again:

“Jason.” Now he was the one avoiding your gaze. But you persist, finally making eye contact with him. “What happened? Are you okay?” He wills himself to get out of his stupor and even though deep down he doesn’t want to, out of the soft touch of your hands too, bringing his own back to his sides.

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I do boxing.” He says as he shrugs his shoulders. “It happens.” You raise an eyebrow, suspicious. It feels like something doesn’t fully add up.

You know that there are things that Jason isn’t telling you. He has made some strange comments before but you always let it go. You know that eventually, if he wants to, when he’s ready, he will tell you. God knows that you have your own things too.

But if there is something that you have learned about your growing friendship with Jason is that you both like to take things at your own pace. Trusting and becoming close with each other slowly but steadily.

Letting time do its work. Not forcing the flow of things. And you like it that way. Life is always everchanging so to have something so solid and safe like what you have with him, you want to treasure it and nurture it. Although all of that of course, doesn’t stop you from worrying about him and wanting to take care of him.

So, you just nod, accepting his explanation, but not without having a little bit of fun.

“I thought that in boxing you were supposed to wear gloves to avoid that very kind of injuries.” You say with a playful smile.

Shit.

Jason wants to facepalm himself. He really seemed to just have one brain cell whenever he was around you. At his lack of response you shake your head.

“Come, let me patch that up at least.”

“Oh, no, no. It’s fine, don’t worry.”

“Jason.” You throw him a glance.

“Y/N.” He maintains your stare. Finally, a small smile escapes your lips and you put an end to the staring contest, rounding the counter and taking his hands once again and guiding him to the break room. Allowing yourselves this moment since there aren't any other customers in the store right now. Jason lets you, knowing that in the end, he will never be able to deny you anything.

Once in the break room, you sit him down at a chair by a table and leave for a moment before you return with a first aid kid. You sit down in front of him and look at him softly.

“Can I?” You motion towards his hands. Jason swallows and only finds the courage to nod slowly.

The knuckles are far from being the worst that they have ever been and Jason always tries to take care of them but he had just arrived home from patrol the night before so exhausted that he had only managed to clean them before passing out on his bed. Right now, they’re mostly just reddened with a couple of points in which the skin is broken.

Jason then finds out that he was right. When you take his left hand and start treating the wound, cleaning it again and applying some antiseptic on it, he sees that you treat him with the same care and thoughtfulness that you did with those books all those weeks ago.

Almost as if he was something delicate, something precious. If not more.

The beat of his heart quickens and he wonders if in the silence of the room, you can hear it.

This is the very first time that Jason has been back here, the setting of your interactions always being the open part of the bookshop and this change of scenario makes it seem like something has shifted between you two. Like you weren’t just employee and customer with a friendly relationship anymore but like you have a real friendship and a deeper connection.

The whole time, as you treat his other hand too and then slowly bandage both of them, Jason looks at you. He’s glad that you’re only fixed on his hands because that way he can take all the time that he wants to admire you.

The concentrated look in your eyes, the way that your eyebrows furrow in concentration, how you put a strand of hair that has fallen out behind your ear, and the occasional and very tortuous moment in which you bite your lip in concentration, being extra careful in not hurting him.

And that's when the weight of how much he feels for you falls on him. He was already aware of it before but now is when he can really feel the weight of it all. How what he feels for you is not just an infatuation or a crush, but something deeper that runs beneath his skin, crawling into him, taking root. Settling and making a home there.

“Done.” You whisper. And as you retract your hands from his, Jason wishes that he never had to part from your touch.

You put all the things that you used back into the first aid kit and try not to think about the impulse that you had, but that you thankfully had managed to repress, of kissing his knuckles when you finished bandaging them.

“Be careful, okay?” You say. Jason nods, admiring your work but when you don’t take your eyes off of him he answers:

“Yeah. Promise.” You nod satisfied. Then Jason remembers another promise that he had made. “Tim wanted me to thank you by the way. Bernard loved the book.” He says.

“Oh, that’s right! It was no problem, it was really great to meet him. How was his boyfriend’s party? Bernard’s I guess?” You say excited.

“Tim said it went great. And that thanks to you he didn’t fall asleep during it and was actually able to enjoy it.” You giggle in response when suddenly, Jason’s phone beeps and he takes a quick look. Firefly alert downtown. He jumps out of his seat.

“Sorry, I have to go. Thank you, really.” And faster than a bullet, he’s gone.

You sigh, shaking yourself out from the intimate moment and when you return to the counter, you see that in his hurry, Jason forgot to take The Rainbow Fish with him. You take the book and put it under the counter, keeping it for him for next time.

You’re running some errands when you see two large men crowding a little girl. She can’t be older than six and she’s clutching onto a teddy bear for dear life.

Anger and fear for the little girl rage inside you, it is broad daylight and there are quite a few people on the street, yet everyone seems to carry out their business ignoring the men trying to talk the girl into going with them. You knew how Gotham was but it seemed like the city always found a way to surprise you.

“Come on, your mommy told us to come get you.” You hear one of the men say to the girl as you quickly approach them.

“I don’t have a mom.” The girl manages to say, distrustful. And even though hearing that makes you sad, you admire the girl, you can tell that she’s smart.

“Can I help you?” You hiss as you put yourself between the two men and the girl, putting an arm out to keep her behind you. You see the two men exchange a look, clearly discussing if it is worth it to cause a scene in the middle of the street.

“No. We were just leaving.” One ends up saying, giving a clap to the back of the other, directing them away from you and the girl. As they turn to leave, they try to give one last look to the little girl but you move to block their line of sight.

When they turn the corner at the end of the street, you finally let out a sigh of relief, thankful that the confrontation didn’t escalate to anything more.

You knew you didn’t actually stand a great chance against them physically, and seeing how people were ignoring the situation before, you’re not sure that anyone would have helped you.

Adrenaline is still pumping through your veins as you turn and kneel on the floor to be eye level with the girl, who takes a step back in fear but you hold your hands up, trying to show her how you’re not a threat.

Now that you can see her clearly, you see how scared she really is. She is shaking slightly, still clutching her worn out teddy bear with tears in her eyes. Her clothes aren’t in the best state either and her shoes are two steps more from falling apart. Just by looking at her you can tell that she has to have spent nights on the street.

Your heart breaks. It really was unfair how many unfortunate people and kids lived in such dire situations in Gotham. Of course you knew that there were people trying to change things and do better like the vigilantes or normal people like you, that even if it was in the smallest of ways, always tried to help somehow. You did so by either giving away the clothes that you didn’t use anymore or doing donations whenever you could. But sometimes it still seemed like the bad outweighed the good.

“Hi, honey.” You say in a soft voice to try and calm the little girl. “I’m Y/N. What’s your name?”

She stops backing up against the wall of the building, sniffs and rubs her eyes, before looking at you, deciding whether or not to trust you.

“Lily.” You hear her squeak out. Her grip on the teddy bear relaxes and she starts playing with its ear, still not looking directly at you.

“Hi Lily, it’s very nice to meet you.” You say as you extend a hand to her, wanting to give her some sense of normalcy. She slowly takes it and you give her a soft shake. “You okay?” She nods. “You know Lily, you were very brave standing up to those men.”

“They were bad” She says. You nod. “Jay always says not to trust strangers and much less big scary men.”

“He’s very right. Is he your brother?” Maybe you can help her get back to her family. If you managed to do so, it would be much better than bringing her to the police and then, sadly, most likely than not, forgotten in the foster care system.

“No. A friend. A very good friend.”

“Okay, good. That’s very important.” You look around, trying to see if somebody is looking for her. “Do you live nearby?”

“I think so.” She says shyly, you give her an encouraging look to see if she can give you any more information. “I was chasing a cat but I think that I took a wrong turn.”

“Okay. How about I go with you and try to find your way back?” You say as you stand back up. You’re happy to see that Lily doesn’t look scared anymore. Instead, she looks almost… Excited?

“Yes, please! I don’t want to miss it!” She says as she grabs your hand and starts walking in the direction that you suppose she came.

“Miss what?” You ask, but she’s already telling you everything about her teddy bear, who seems to be Batbear at night, fighting crime and kicking butt like the heroes in Gotham.

Turns out that Lily’s home was thankfully a lot closer than what you had expected. After asking her if she remembered a couple of streets and stores, she was able to find the right way back.

You finally reach an open space between two buildings that seems to work as a playground, with a rusty basket to play basketball on one side and several boxes and crates littering the corners. Several kids run around playing and chasing each other, most of them in the same condition as Lily.

A group of them surround a bench and you hear him before you see him.

“What do you mean Lily’s not here? Where is she?” He’s running a hand stressfully through his hair, looking around worriedly.

“Jason?” You ask transfixed.

Jason locks eyes with you and freezes, just as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

“Y/N.” He says breathlessly.

“Jay!” Lily’s excited voice filters through the air. You feel her dropping your hand and Jason’s eyes turn to her, relief washing over them. As she runs towards Jason, she extends her arms and he scoops her up and settles her on his waist effortlessly, Lily hugging his neck.

“Lily! Oh my god, where were you? We were all so worried. You’re always here when I arrive.” He says to her.

“I know, I'm sorry! Some bad men tried to take me. But don’t worry, Y/N helped me! She’s a badass!” Jason’s eyes widen at the new information and you see something in them that you had never seen before, a kind of anger that promises danger.

But as soon as that look comes, it disappears, and it makes you wonder if it was ever really there in the first place. He then looks at you, thankful but with a small tint of worry. You just give him a reassuring nod, telling him that everything is okay.

“Why don’t you go with the rest for a bit? I’ll be right there.” He says as he turns to Lily once more.

“Okay!” He settles her back down and she runs off to the other kids.

Jason approaches you quickly in a few strides, it feels like he wants to touch you, take your hands to make sure that you’re okay but he stops himself.

“You okay? What happened?”

“Yeah. I’m okay, don’t worry.” You tell him what happened and you can see how the anger returns to him in the way that he clenches his fists. “But we’re fine and they left so that’s all that matters.” You conclude.

“Where was it?” He asks firmly. You tell him the street where it all happened and Jason seems deep in thought for a moment, like searching for something in his mind. When he finally finds it, he nods resolutely as if he just made a mental note to do something later.

The determination in his eyes sends a chill running down your spine.

“Thank you for helping her.” He says then. “But be careful please, I don’t want you to be in danger.” The very thought makes him shiver, he doesn’t even want to entertain the possibility.

“I know. I am. I just couldn’t stand by.” You respond and he nods, knowing that that was how you were, always looking out for others.

“Anyway, thanks again.” He adds and you nod before looking around you once more.

It then dawns on you that this is the very first time that you are seeing Jason outside of the bookshop and it just feels so strange. When he first entered the shop, it seemed like he stood out like a sore thumb, with his tall frame, rough appearance and black leather jacket against the cozy backdrop of the shop. But now, after so much time, you couldn’t imagine him anywhere else. Now it was like he didn’t fit into any other atmosphere other than at the bookshop.

“Well, and what are you doing here?” You ask curiously.

“Oh, I…”

“So you’re Y/N?” Interrupts a young teen with a knowing smile, followed by a group of other kids, including Lily, clearly having told them her latest adventure. You nod.

“Are you his girlfriend?” Asks another boy now, looking up at you. You let out a small laugh at the way Jason’s eyes widen almost comically at the kid’s boldness.

“No.” You respond, and for a second, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to answer otherwise.

“We’re friends.” Jason says.

“Very good friends.” You can’t help but add and when you steal a nervous glance at Jason, you find him nodding, agreeing with you. Because saying just ‘friends’ feels too simple to describe your relationship with Jason. And what you said still doesn't cover it.

“Really?” The teen boy from earlier asks again with a raised eyebrow. “Because he-” Jason grabs him and puts a hand over his mouth before he can keep talking, smiling innocently at you. You look at the chaotic situation amused.

“Are you staying for the reading?” Lily asks.

“The reading?” You ask confused.

“Yeah! Jason always reads to us and acts out the stories!” Another girl says. And then it clicks.

Jason buys and checks out so many children’s books for them. For these kids. Street kids. Like him. Not only that but he also reads the stories for them. Regularly. You feel like melting into a puddle.

You turn to Jason, an amazed look on your face. As if this man could be any more wonderful. He blushes and looks away in embarrassment. A small smile makes its way across your lips.

“Really? I didn’t know that.” You say, turning to the kids once more.

“Yeah! He’s great at it.” Chirps the same girl.

“Are you staying then?” Lily insists.

You immediately turn to Jason. You would love to but there is a reason for why Jason hasn’t told you about this. It feels like this is something very important to him and that he holds very dear so you don’t want to intrude on that. But Jason is already looking at you, scared yet hopeful, as if he does want you to stay but is afraid that you may want to leave now.

“Well, I would love to. If I’m not a burden of course.”

“Never.” Jason says without missing a beat.

You don’t think that you have ever smiled more brightly.

You end up having one of the best afternoons that you have ever had in a while. Rival only to the other ones in which Jason visits you in the bookstore. You stay and listen as Jason reads them the books that had been sitting on the bench and that you recognize from the bookstore out loud, using different voices, doing exaggerating gestures, and acting out scenes.

You watch as the kids laugh and look at him mesmerized. If you had been able to look into a mirror, you would have found that you had the very same look of admiration as them, maybe even a tiny little bit lovestruck. You can tell that they love him, look up to him and consider him a role model. You can’t help but think that they made an excellent choice.

The crowd is mostly made of small kids, the older ones, in their teenage years, although a few of them listen, most make as if the activity doesn’t interest them, but you can see how they linger around the group while they play basketball or pass by.

You see how what Jason is doing with these kids is a light for them. A moment of escapism, fun and happiness from their lives and problems in the worst neighborhoods of Gotham. Kids forced to grow up earlier to survive. Holding onto whatever source of innocence that they can.

Eventually, they all rope you into reading too and you end up sharing the spotlight with Jason. There are laughs, questions from the kids about yourself, funny comments and the snickering whispers from the older kids at the back about the two of you, having obviously heard about you before.

Jason prays that you can’t see them when they start teasing him and making kissy faces to which he just rolls his eyes. He also prays that you can’t see how he looks at you as you enjoy yourself and laugh at what the kids say. The utter adoration and longing that lay in his eyes.

It isn’t until almost a couple of hours later, when the sun has already disappeared beyond the horizon and the orange hue of the sky has turned purple, that the reading does come to an end.

The kids say their goodbyes, not before inviting you to reading time again and wondering when you will come back. A lot of them already give you a hug as they go, and you see them leave back towards their homes. Most of them go to the adjacent buildings but there are also a few, mostly the older kids, or at least accompanied by them, that go towards the street.

Lily thanks you for your help and even gives you a kiss on the cheek that makes you want to melt and give her a tight hug before she leaves towards the closest building, a girl a few years older than her guiding her by the hand.

And then, after all the chaos and laughs, with the night starting to settle in, it’s just you and Jason once again.

You sit back down on the bench next to him and you both stay there for a moment, enjoying the quiet and the silence of the chill Gotham air.

When you turn to Jason, his green gaze is already on you.

“Thank you for staying. The kids loved having you here.” He whispers as to not disturb the peace that has settled over you both. “I hope that it wasn’t too much.”

“What? No, it was lovely. Really, I had a great time. I’m sorry if I intruded.”

“No, not at all.”

“Now I know why you always check out so many kids’ books. Good to know that you’re not a psychopath with kids in cages or something.” You joke and Jason huffs out a laugh.

“Yeah, maybe I should have explained that earlier. It would have been too strange to explain at the beginning but then we became friends and it dragged on and it felt too weird to explain now. I don’t know.” He just didn’t know what you would have thought of him.

“No, no.” You shake your head. “I didn’t mean it like that. This was clearly something very private to you. It’s perfectly understandable not wanting to share it with anybody.”

“You’re not anybody.”

You’re sure your heart stops beating for a moment.

The intensity of his gaze makes you look down at your hands. You can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at you like that.

It’s scary.

In a good way, but still very scary.

“Well, anyway, thank you for letting me be a part of it.” You end up saying and he nods.

Silence settles over you two once again. Neither of you wanting the day to end.

“You hungry? I know a great spot.” He speaks up.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“I’m starving.”

You love the place as soon as you see it. It’s a small, yet very cozy and lovely diner. Through the outside windows you can see that the color pattern is mostly blue and white with bright pink neon letters announcing that it’s open.

Jason holds the door open for you and the warmness inside the place drastically contrasts with the cold from outside. The delightful smells from the kitchen make your stomach ache with hunger.

“Hi, sweetie! We’ll be right with you!” The old woman at the bar with a brightly tinted red streak in her hair says excitedly.

“Sit wherever you like!” A voice yells next from the kitchen. From the open window that looks into it from the dining area you can see another old woman with a bun.

“Thank you, ladies.” Jason greets.

Your mouth hangs open.

Jason leads you to a booth that stares out into the street. His usual spot, you suppose. As you sit in the comfortable booth and you two take off your coats, you close your mouth and look at Jason with a raised eyebrow. He looks back at you feigning innocence, though you know well that he knows why you’re so surprised.

“What?” He says with a teasing smirk that makes you want to kiss it away.

“You little liar.”

“Hey.” He responds amused. “What did I do now?”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with practically adoptive grandparents that just so happen to run a business.” You say with your arms crossed.

And when Jason laughs, you might as well be addicted to the sound with how much you love it everytime you hear it.

“I knew you were going to say that.” He says and you scoff playfully. “In my defense, I will say that I wasn’t fully ‘officially’ adopted until after we had that conversation. I hadn’t come here enough times for that yet.”

“Mmhm, sure.” You say suspicious as you take the menu from the side of the table and take a quick look over it. “And you wanted to take Rose and Jimmy away from me.” You add, muttering under your breath.

“Excuse me?” Mock outrageousness in his tone.

“What you hear.” You’re trying too hard to hide your smile.

“You know that was never my intention.” He answers and you just hum, pretending to read the menu. “Okay, as an act of peace, you can have Millie and Ruby too.”

“Mhm.” You pretend to think it over.

“I’m sure they’ll love you in no time anyway.” The lightness with which he says that, as if anyone who met you couldn’t help but love you, makes you drop the menu onto the table and look back at him.

“Deal then.” You finally say and you both let out a small laugh.

After that, the woman with the red streak approaches your table and greets you both.

“Good evening kids, how are you today?”

“Good, Ruby, and you?” Jason answers.

“You know, same old, same old.” She says, waving her hand. Then she turns fully to you. “And who might this lovely lady be?” She asks with a knowing smile and an arched eyebrow, almost as if she already knows the answer and knows a secret that you’re not privy to.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“The Y/N?” Ruby says while throwing Jason a look. He just looks away in embarrassment and the neon sign of the window really makes you wonder if the red tint on his cheeks are a reflection of it or not. “Oh, it’s so lovely to meet you dear! We've heard so much about you! We’ve been telling Jason to bring you non-stop. Oh gosh, I gotta tell Millie. Millie! Honey, come here!” She screams towards the kitchen.

Your lips curve into an amused smile, but you also feel heat rush to your face, not really knowing what to do with all the attention and the fact that Jason has been talking about you, what seems to be quite a lot, to other people. Not only his brother, but also the kids and these women.

Millie appears and when she learns who you are, she greets you just as enthusiastically as Ruby has.

“Let me tell you sweetheart, this boy here talks about you-” Millie starts but then she clears her throat as Jason throws her a warning glance. “I mean, about your bookshop all the time.”

“Well, you can drop by anytime.” You offer.

“We will.” Millie assures you. It seems as though both Millie and Ruby want to stay and ask you millions of questions but they see how Jason is begging them with his eyes to leave you two alone, and after taking your orders, they leave with a smile.

“They seem really great.” You say. Their loud nature sign of a joyous life. And even though they seem more energetic, vivacious and chaotic than the calm and quiet way in which Rose and Jimmy carry themselves, you know that they would get along very well. Especially with how all of them seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the interactions that you and Jason have.

“Yeah, they are.” Jason confirms. “But sorry about that, they can come off as a bit overwhelming sometimes.”

“It’s okay. It’s nice to be greeted so welcomely.”

As the night goes on, you find that it is just as easy to talk to Jason outside the bookshop as it is over the counter. It doesn’t surprise you but the underlying fear that your connection only works surrounded by bookshelves finally leaves you.

As you both eat the delicious food that Millie prepared, Jason tells you more about the kids per your request. How he tries to read to them at least once a week, how he brings them food whenever he can and how he has even taught a few of them to read. You also immediately offer up the bookstore to hold the readings but he shakes his head and smiles sadly.

“Thank you, really. That’s very kind of you. But it’s not very viable since the neighborhoods are not very close. Most of the kids have people relying on them and can only make it to the readings from time to time. The playground is also the more common ground, the older kids can’t go very far due to the responsibilities and it’s not safe for the smaller ones to go on their own.”

You nod, but your heart clenches at how these kids can’t enjoy a normal childhood.

“I understand.” You stop and think for a second if you should say what you want to say next, worried about overstepping.

You decide to go for it anyway.

“I’d like to come back for the readings, if that’s okay?” Your voice comes out lower and more unsure than what you had first intended, your hands playing nervously on your lap.

Jason looks at you, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

“Of course you can. I’m sure they’d love to have you back.” I’d love to have you back. But Jason doesn’t want to scare you or make the whole situation come off too strong. “But are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured, if their insistence-”

“No, no! Really, I had a great time and I would love to be able to see the kids again. Help in any way I can.”

“Okay, then.” He says with a smile pulling at his lips.

The evening stretches on and you two stay at the dinner until closing time. There is a moment that will haunt you for days, as you told him a story, he leaned his arms on the table, giving you his undivided attention, and the way in which his bicep flexed under his sleeve… Nothing has ever been so distracting. Your eyes had been instantly drawn over to it. You really, really hoped that he didn’t notice. You would die of embarrassment otherwise.

You even finally, finally, give each others’ numbers to match schedules for the readings (and to just chat in general of course), since you won’t be able to make it to all of them due to the bookstore hours and so that Jason can let you know if he can’t attend one. You can’t believe you didn’t even have it before with how often you two already talked at the bookshop.

It feels like another shift in your relationship. A stepping stone.

Another brick on the long yet sturdy building road.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

>Part II

#Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd one shot #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd #Red hood x reader #Red hood fic #Red hood one shot #Red hood imagine #Red hood #Jason todd imagines #Red hood imagines #Children's Books and Leather Jackets #ThreeStarsInLine #Jason todd fluff #Jason todd angst #Red hood fluff #Red hood angst #DC Comics

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callsign-rogueone · 9 months ago

Text

keep her safe - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.

Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”

The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.

He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.

That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.

He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat.

You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.”

You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.

He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.

“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.”

There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.

He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”

You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious.

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade.

“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.

“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.

Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.

“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.

“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.

“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”

“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”

“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks.

“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.”

“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming.

You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”

When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”

You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.

There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face.

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly.

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you.

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?”

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument.

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something.

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt.

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.”

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting.

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take.

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.” Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t.

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips.

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden.

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already.

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them.

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #reader insert #fourth wing fanfic #iron flame fanfic #garrick tavis imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing imagine #throwing this into the void for the three Garrick girlies out there!#liam fic next??#mine #Garrick and Angel

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kozumesphone · 1 month ago

Text

✮⋆˙ 𝐏𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

⤷ leo valdez x daughter of poseidon!reader

masterlist | event m.list

♡ fandom | the heroes of olympus

♡ includes | songfic (sort of), daughter of poseidon!reader, leo and reader both have glasses in this fic (YES i’m fulfilling my own delusions, leave me alone), ALL CHARACTERS INCLUDING READER ARE 17-18 pls don’t come at me for getting them married 🙏, leo x reader wedding, pre-established relationship, fluff, comfort, beautiful no nonsense kissing and happiness, tbh this is retribution for my previous emercy angst, HAPPINESS, third person pov for like five seconds, not proofread

♡ in which | leo and reader get married <3

♡ a/n | ok shiit. this was supposed to be a newlyweds prompt, but I wanted to write a wedding scene before that, so I completely missed the prompt that was requested ☹️ I still hope this fluff makes up for it a bit, and i'll try to work on a part 2 for a newlyweds drabble (tho I can't promise i'll actually end up writing it, sorry 💀)

♡ wc | 1.3k

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

“i’m way too nervous, my hands are shaking and what if I drop the ring? he’ll think i’m stupid! and he’ll leave me right there!”

“n/n? respectfully? shut up,” annabeth sighed.

“this is leo we’re talking about, man, and if there’s one thing I know for sure about him, other than the fact that he loves marshmallows, it’s that he’s whipped as fuck for you,” will’s voice rang out, walking into my cabin.

“trust!” piper’s voice came out of my closet, where she was looking for something decent for me to wear.

“okay… but, now I don’t have anything to wear. that’s another problem,” I whined.

“you could walk out there, and get married in your camp clothes, and it’d have the same effect on him either way,” piper rolled her eyes. “his mouth would like, hang open, and he’d make heart eyes at you—”

“shut up,” I grumbled. “what am I going to wear, pipes?”

“don’t you worry, darling, I got you,” she said, and winked at me, and handed me a denim-leather jacket.

✮⋆˙ leo’s pov

“what if I trip and fall in front of her? will she leave me—who am I kidding, of course she’ll leave me!—”

“she loves you, stop crying about it,” jason said, rolling his eyes.

nico walked in with a red tie and black leather jacket in tow, and told me it was one of the other kids who lent it to him (clearly not).

“oh. thanks,” I smiled.

“yeah, sure. uh, listen, valdez,” nico started. I narrowed my eyes at him. “if you ever hurt her, or make her cry, or anything, I will know. and I will come for your blood. and your organs, because the market is amazing for livers these days—”

“same here,” percy said. “if I see my little sister sad because of you? you’re done for, fire boy.”

they walked over to me, throwing their arms around my shoulder. “got it?”

“obviously,” I rolled my eyes. “and if she’s ever sad because of me, I think i’d kill myself.”

✮⋆˙ 3rd person pov

percy walked with his hand in y/n’s. she walked down the aisle in a black crop top below her unbuttoned white shirt, and a denim-leather jacket strung on top. in that moment, leo could only comprehend how much she looked like herself.

she was fidgeting nervously with her belt while walking towards him.

she looked up, shocked, to see him almost matching with her: white shirt, red tie, black leather jacket, and even the playboy grin.

I like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings…

uh huh, that’s right…

watching him smile at her melted away her anxiety.

he wouldn’t leave her, of course not. they were in this together, forever.

a lopsided grin creeped up her face, setting his heart on fire.

she would always love him, he realised. never would she even think of leaving him.

darling, you’re the one I want, and…

✮⋆˙ y/n’s pov

percy let go of my hand so I could walk further towards leo, leaving me a thumbs-up.

“hey handsome,” I whispered, stopping in front of leo.

“hey beautiful,” he whispered back, still smiling at me.

“even after so many years, you know how to get my brain to stop functioning, it’s unfair,” I groaned, as he chuckled. his hand slipped into mine, lacing our fingers together. his thumb stroked the back of my hand as we turned to chiron, who was officiating our wedding.

he asks all our friends—dressed in shades of either blue or orange—to take their seats. we watched the youngest demigods, who were less than ten years old, walk around the chairs, giving out flowers to everyone.

“dearly beloved,” chiron reads out of his pocket notebook. “we are gathered here today to witness my two little kids join together in holy matrimony.”

everyone laughed and then quieted down.

“you can do your speeches or vows,” he prompted.

I exhaled and started first. “mia cara, thank you. I can’t believe today’s, well, finally here. I remember the, um, first day we met. we were both caught planting something for a prank in coach hedge’s bag, and spent a day in detention together,” I laughed and went on. “well, that was pretty much the day I fell in love with you. i’m so happy I have a boyfriend—well, almost-husband—and a best friend, both in the same person. so, I guess what I want to say is… I love you, leo.”

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this…

uh huh, that’s right…

his eyes were glossing over, and a tear escaped down his cheek. I wiped it away, and smiled at him.

“oh my god, that was so sappy,” he rolled his eyes at me.

I hit him in his shoulder, and he laughed. “anyway, I think I never told you this, but I knew you before that day.”

I gasped a little bit and my eyes widened.

“it was the day you transferred to that wilderness school, probably around a month before we met. you were wearing the same jacket you’re wearing today, and your hair was in tiny braids, and oh my god, I remember thinking, ‘if I don’t talk to that girl soon, i’ll never forgive myself’ but I waited a whole month because I was too nervous.”

I laughed, “you were nervous for a month?”

“shut up bro,” he groaned. “you were just so beautiful and I thought you looked smart, which, I mean, you are. but then, I found out you were planning some prank for a bet, and I figured that was my chance.”

darling, you're the one I want…

“who knew that the first pranks we pulled would bring us to get married, huh?” I chuckled.

“I knew,” he said, “that was obviously why I did it. anyway, I wanna end this speech or whatever by saying what I thought of you the first day we met: I love you, y/n, and you’re stuck with me for life!”

“I better hope so, you’re not allowed to leave me ever, anyway,” I rolled my eyes.

chiron laughed at us, and called the ringbearers. “it’s time for you to exchange your rings.”

an eight-year old apollo camper and his twin brother walked up to us with matching boxes. each one gave a box to one of us.

we opened the boxes, got the rings out and held them.

leo pulled our interlocked hands up and let go, to slip his ring on my finger. I grinned at him, and placed mine on his finger as well. he smiled when he realised they were the first rings we had bought together after we snuck out of camp for the first time.

“with the power vested in me,” chiron started. “I now pronounce you man and wife. you may kiss the bri—”

before chiron could even finish, leo’s hands were on my waist, bringing me closer, our mouths colliding.

in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams…

oh, you’re the one I want…

our glasses hit each others’ twice, but neither of us cared. his hands were squeezing my waist, as if it were the end of the world if he let go. my hands wrapped around his neck, and I pulled him in closer than humanly possible.

his kisses were rarely soft and sweet, so today wasn’t a surprise.

tongues colliding, my hands in his hair, and grinning against each others’ lips.

“till death do them part!” a voice rang out from the crowd, everyone else laughing.

“even death won’t do us part, mi vida,” he pulled back, smiling and whispered.

#skye's cafe ~ ⋆.˚#⭑𓂃 skye’s riordanverse !#my man x me #riordanverse #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x fem!reader #leo x reader #leo valdez pjo #wedding fluff #leo valdez fic #leo fluff #fluff #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus

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erinwantstowrite · 4 months ago

Note

Hihi I wanted to say thank you ! Bit random but your fic has helped me realize that it’s okay to just have fun with writing a fic and it doesn’t have to follow any rules or such.

I used to only write main ideas for fics I wanted to write but was always too nervous about messing up or it sounding dull that I never managed to follow through, but while reading LoF and such, it’s helped me see that it’s a lot more relaxed than I thought it to be. I can happily say I’m writing my own contribution to the Spidey in Gotham niche and yeah I just wanted to thank you <3

And a a little question of how you decided on all the suits for your AUs ? Like Peter’s jacket in LoF or that INCREDIBLE venom AU suit (it looks so cool)

Ahhh that's so cool!! I really really love that!! Writing is supposed to be fun and crazy and adventurous! You write for yourself first, forget about what could be "cringe" or "lame" to someone else, and go for it! :) I hope your writing journey takes you far and you see many places to write about!

And I've always been fascinated by character design. It started with my first ever anime, Fairy Tail. The designs can be cheesy or fanservicey but I loved that they never really made sense in a set of time or era specific, and that they were always interesting, if a little cooky.

Designing suits is a pain in the ass, but fun. It's a lot of looking at artwork that I really enjoy that other artists made and seeing what I think the character I'm designing for would like the most- or looking at fashion from all different walks of life. It's also a lot of keeping in mind a characters story, the themes of their life, etc. Details, details, details.

I decided on the jacket that Peter wears in LoF because, well, he needed a jacket. It's getting colder and his regular jackets weren't going to cut it for the whole "secret identity" thing. So far in Peter's life, he'd been wearing what is "practical" to have and not what he wanted to have. In LoF, he's starting to branch out in his identity as Spider-Man. He looks up to Jason in a way (thinks he's cool) so I figured he'd want to wear something like Jason. He got the new jacket and he ended up wearing a domino mask too- something to symbolize that his time in Gotham is starting to change him. It's no coincidence that he gets these items and the same chapter, he ends up finally at the Batcave.

But with him designing the jacket, making it his own, and even putting an Iron Man patch on one sleeve? It means he's still himself, Spider-Man, and he's still got his home on the mind. It just also happens that Peter cares about Gotham now, too.

As for the venom suit, I took influence in the Venom designs I saw from the comics or fanart (I didn't make a board, so I can't pull up the exact refs right now), and also looking at other Spider designs from the Spiderverse movies. I kept it mostly the same suit I designed for LoF Peter, just with darker hands (as to say, blood stained), claws, a harsher/more vibrant red, etc, as a way to say that he has not moved past the kid he was when he was first bit, and Venom changed him for the worst. :)

I have more suit designs (such as LoF Peter's suit changing over time) but I can't share them yet,,,, They're technically spoilers,,,, RIP,,,,

#erinwantstowrite #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #leap of faith ao3 #leap of faith catch me if you can #leap of faith #peter parker #thank you for the ask!#character design #writing

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pekejscatbed · 1 year ago

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Leather Jackets and Painkillers | Jason Todd & Tim Drake

Info/Warnings:

Tim Drake-centric, Trans Tim Drake, Menstruation, Tim is on his period and in PAIN, Jason takes care of him, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Tim Drake is Red Robin. Jason Todd is Red Hood, Trans character written by trans author

batman masterlist

------

Red Robin is in the middle of tying up a pair of thugs when a particularly bad cramp hits, twisting his insides like a blender and stabbing his gut with the viciousness of Damian with his katana; he grits his teeth, willing the pain to go away, and works his nimble fingers around the cord to finish off the knot.

With the criminals now taken care of, Red Robin taps the comm link in his ear, "O, I got two thugs tied up here."

"On it, Red. Alerting police now." Oracle responds after getting the location.

Red taps his ear once more, effectively shutting off their communication, then grapples to the top of a nearby building to wait for the police just in case the goons escape, or someone comes along to cut them free. While waiting, another cramp has Red clutching at his stomach and he has to sit down on the building's roof to stop himself from swaying on his feet and falling over the edge. He groans, cursing to himself as waves of pain wash over him, and his vision flutters before he realizes what's about to happen- fuck.

Suddenly, Red Robin falls to his side, vision black as excruciating pain grabs ahold of his consciousness and knocks him out.

------

Red Hood is out on patrol, surveying his territory for trouble and shooting (rubber) bullets at anyone who provides it, when he notices the collapsed figure a few buildings away, just on the outside of his territory; when he gets closer, he realizes who that figure is, red chest piece and black sleeves and leggings giving it away before Hood even sees the yellow bird head in the middle of the figures chest: Red Robin.

Muttering curses to himself, The Hood bends over and picks the other up, throwing the smaller male over his broad shoulder. With Red Robin hanging over his shoulder, Hood's arm around his thighs to keep him from slipping, Hood turns in the direction of his nearest safe house.

About halfway to his hideout, Red Hood smells the metallic odor of blood thanks to the absence of his helmet, only wearing his domino mask tonight, before he feels a wetness against his shoulder, and he curses once more. "If you got blood on my goddamn leather jacket..."

He grumbles to himself, moving faster now, obviously so he can clean his jacket sooner and definitely not because he's worried that his (brother) replacement is injured.

The pair arrive at the safe house without incident, and Hood is quick to lay Red Robin on the couch that Hood himself has laid injured on many times before. He begins to strip Red of his suit, of his crime fighting persona, starting with the mask, turning Red Robin back into Tim Drake. The cape comes off next, then the chest piece, and so on.

Tim is down to his underwear when Jason realizes the other has no injures- scratch that- no open wounds, because in this line of work? One is always injured in one way or another, Tim is no exception, but none of the youngers current injuries are bleeding, and that confuses Jason. He looks down at his jacket, which definitely has blood on the shoulder, and at his hands, that are sticky with crimson; he then goes through the difference pieces of Tim's uniform, searching for blood, when he comes across the wet spot at the crotch of his leggings- his hands pull away covered with blood, and of course he didn't see it, because Tim's leggings are black and so are his underwear, but that means-

Jason looks at Tim's chest, where identical crescent scars shape his chest, and he remembers the gender marker on Tim's file when Jason first found out he'd been replaced as Robin and went snooping, and how the F was crossed out with a M next to it, and-

Tim is on his fucking period.

------

Tim wakes up in a bed he doesn't recognize, in a room he doesn't recognize, and he's not in uniform even though he remembers that being the last thing he wore, instead dressed in an oversized pair of black sweatpants and a red hoodie that engulfs the whole upper half of his body, and he knows he's seen this hoodie before...

There's a nightstand to the right of the bed with a bottle of painkillers and a glass of water on the surface, as well as a bottled sports drink from Tim's go-to brand. In front of the nightstand are two plastic grocery bags from a corner store native to Gotham, one filled with a variety of Tim's favorite snacks and different brands of chocolate, the other filled with pads and tampons in a multitude of sizes-

Tim slips out of the bed and quietly opens the drawers of the nightstand, snooping around for anything to tell him where he is and who lives here. The first drawer contains medical equipment, bandages and gauze and hydrogen-peroxide, etcetera. The second drawer is half filled with shirts and half filled with pants, though under the clothes lies a pocketknife and picture of... Alfred and teenage Jason?!

Tim sighs, now knowing who brought him here and where he is, or where he thinks he must be: one of Jason's hideouts. Still, that doesn't mean he's safe, as Jason has hurt him before- what if this is all just a trick, a trap? Tim slowly opens the bedroom door and tip-toes his way out of the room and around the corner, where he sees a uniform free Jason hunched over on the couch, wearing grey sweatpants and a green t-shirt and scrubbing at what looks like a leather jacket.

Jason doesn't look up as he sighs, "You owe me a new jacket, pretender."

"And I owe you a new jacket because?" Tim raises an eyebrow as he walks fully into the room, stopping a few steps away from the couch.

"Because," Jason emphasizes the word as he looks at Tim, throwing the jacket at the other, "you got blood on it."

Tim looks at the stain on the jackets shoulder.

"You do know I found you passed out on a rooftop, yeah?" Tim doesn't answer, throwing the jacket back. "What happened?"

Tim scoffs. "I think you know, considering the bags you left by the bed."

"If you're in enough pain to pass out on a fucking roof, then you shouldn't be out there in the first place."

"Don't tell me what to do!" Tim oh so cleverly fires back as another rush of pain hits him full force, and he stumbles for a second before catching himself.

"You didn't take the painkillers." Jason rolls his eyes as he stands, letting his jacket fall to the couch, and he grabs Tim's arm, dragging him back to the bedroom. "Come on."

"Let me go, asshole!" He tries to fight back, but he's in too much pain, though he's brought some comfort when he's pushed to the bed and a blanket is thrown over him, and he stays quiet when Jason hands him two of the painkillers and the glass of water, taking them without protest. However, he does ask, "Why are you doing this?"

It's now Jason's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Why are you being nice to me? Don't you care that I'm..." Tim's voice trails off.

"I don't. It's none of my businesses." Jason shrugs, picking up the bag of pads and tampons from the floor and dropping them next to Tim on the bed. "You might wanna use these. I didn't... I didn't think you'd be comfortable with me going that far, so I just put you in my sweats. You can put on something else if you bled through. Bottom drawer."

Jason walks out of the room before giving Tim any time to respond, and Tim just stares for a minute, what the fuck on the tip of his tongue, before he takes Jason's advice and grabs the bag, making his way towards the bathroom.

#tim drake #tim drake fic #tim drake fanfiction #trans tim drake #ftm tim drake #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason and tim #tim and jason #jason todd and tim drake #tim drake and jason todd #trans character #trans male character #ftm character #batman #red robin #red hood

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lokiified · 5 months ago

Text

a world with you

summary: when you get back from a mission, and Ethan isn't there.

pairing: ethan hunt x f!agent!reader

word count: 2.8k

author's notes: descriptions of injury, mention of a python snake, anxiety over major character death, flirty banter and some suggestive stuff, reference to a Jason Mraz song, so angsty for a bit but sweet fluff i promise, established relationship, no use of y/n, taking care of ethan bc he deserves it, i imagined this with mi2 ethan bc that look is just unmatched so this takes place in like 2007

The innocent mumble of traffic below the window was starting to give you a headache. Your ears had been strained, pricked-up to the slightest of noises, for what felt like ages.

Battered and bruised from the mission, you’d stumbled into the safehouse a mere hour ago. You were running on only adrenaline and Ethan’s training playing on loop in your brain as you instinctively started undressing to clean your wounds. The haze in your mind mercifully numbed the burn of rubbing alcohol and the aches in your bones, and when you finally came-to you’d showered and changed into a clean set of clothes. It was then that you realized that you didn’t know where Ethan was.

“If I don’t make it back, please don’t come looking for me,” he’d always said, brushing gentle lines across your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, “keep yourself safe first.” He would press a soft kiss to your forehead, as if it would seal his words into your mind.

But now, now that he really wasn’t here, now that it was the fear of a dreaded possibility coming true that was clawing it’s way done your spine, it took more strength than any mission to keep yourself from throwing on your jacket and boots and marching back into the world, exhausted as you were, to find him.

The mission was simple: get in, plant a trace on a necklace in the hotel’s vault, and get out. You’d both been expecting the security in the back hallways of the hotel, but what you hadn’t prepared for was that one of the goons was an ex-agent, defected and gone rogue a few years prior; he recognized the two of you immediately. In the midst of the struggle, you’d been separated from Ethan.

Now, hands trembling as they fidgeted in your lap, you were waiting. The window in the living room was open and the apartment was dark, depriving every other sense to focus all of your attention on listening, waiting for Ethan to come back. Surely he was going to come back?

But the men were big and there were at least a dozen of them, and the memory was pierced with the crack of gunshots beneath the haze of adrenaline as you made a break for it.

You… made a break for it? Why did you run? Why didn’t you stay and fight like Ethan probably did? You were such a coward. How could you leave him there to fend for himself? Of course he’s can take care of himself, but what if he’s dead?

Then it would be your fault.

The guilt suddenly choked your lungs like a python with its prey, stifled sobs wreaking silent havoc on your body as you pulled your legs up to your chest and hugged yourself, burying your face into your knees. He was dead and it was your fault, all your fault. He had always been so selfless, so brave and so willing to do anything for you, even back when he barely knew you. You were a horrible person. You could never face Luther again; not with the knowledge that it was your fault Ethan was dead, that you had killed him—

“Agent?”

Your head snapped up from your knees, eyes locking onto the figure that had appeared in the window’s reflection. The sudden roar of blood pounding in your ears made you dizzy, and you squinted into the inky black night as you stumbled through the fog in your brain: he certainly looked like your Ethan, although the silhouette of his hair falling around his shoulders was the only detail you could make out in the darkness, but it seem impossible. He couldn’t be here. You’d left him behind, he was dead and it was all your fault. But then who was this man that had the key to the safehouse? Should you run? Suddenly the reflection was moving, then there was movement in your peripheral, and a figure that looked a whole lot like the Ethan you loved came and crouched in front of you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “I’m right here.”

His hands reached your waist but you jumped back at his touch and scrambled into the cushions, half expecting this to all be a hallucination. His hands recoiled and quickly raised in surrender, his brows twitching together with worry as he watched you, your chest beginning to heave in panic. Your heart longed to believe it was Ethan, wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch, but it didn’t make sense for him to be here.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on yours as he slowly lowered a hand. You eyed the gun on the holster around his shoulders, but he moved past it and found the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one slowly and moving to slide the shirt over his shoulders. He quickly dropped it on the floor and brought his hands up again.

“It’s me, okay? I promise. You can check, I promise it’s me.”

You inspected him from afar, noting the smattering of bruises across his ribs and the graze of a bullet on the underside of his right arm, crusted over with blood. His skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and grime, but nowhere could you find any seams or signs of deception. You moved closer to him.

“Tell me something only my Ethan would know about me,” you said, your voice wavering in the aftermath of your panic. Ethan smiled, warming your heart with his radiance.

“Our first date was two years ago, in Rome, when our mission got called off after we’d already landed. I took you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the city, and we danced to that Jason Mraz song you love so much-“

“A World With You,” you finished with him, slipping off the cushion and into his open arms on the floor. His arms encircled you and squeezed gently, and your tears came spilling out of you at the comfort of his touch. He moved so his back was against the couch and you were cradled in his arms, his head resting atop yours as he stroked your arms to soothe you.

“I thought you were dead, I thought they killed you… I thought you were dead and it was my fault because I left you there, how could I leave you there?” The words tumbled out of you between sobs, your mind and body expelling all of your fears into his warm embrace.

“No, hey, I told you to run, remember?” He said, bringing a hand to lift your face and look at him. “I told you to run as soon as the guard recognized us, remember?” You shook your head, trying to recall his voice but all you could hear was the sound of gunshots and shouting fading behind you as you raced through the halls.

“I promise I told you to run, okay?” He brushed away the trail of tears on your cheeks and moved the hair out of your face as he spoke. “You were just following orders, you did the right thing.” His voice was like a balm to your wounds, soothing the guilt that gripped your chest. The rest of the night was coming back to you; Ethan’s frantic shout when he realized the situation with the guard, his promise to come find you. Your breathing evened out. You became aware of his own heart beating solidly beneath your weight, of the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Yeah… yeah okay,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest again. You focused on breathing, on the steady thumping of Ethan’s heart, the proof that he was alive here with you.

“We should really get you cleaned up,” you said after a while, and he sighed.

“I missed you,” he replied as he squeezed you tighter.

“I missed you too, but that doesn’t change the fact that you desperately need a shower.” His head sprung away from resting atop yours and he looked at you in disbelief.

“What are you saying, Agent?”

You pecked a kiss on his nose and grinned, “you stink.”

He broke into a grin and leaned closer to you, placing a hand on the back of your head and capturing your lips in a kiss. You moved in perfect tandem with each other, the anxieties of the day fading into the background as you poured your heart into this moment, this single moment where nothing else exists besides the two of you, kissing in the dark like two teenagers on stolen time.

Your arms draped over his shoulders and your hands moved to tangle in his hair, pressing your body against his as if you could get any closer to him. His hands moved between cupping your face and gripping your waist like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you more. His teeth caught your lower lip and you released a breathy moan, and you felt his lips curl into a smile at the sound. He broke away with heavy breathing, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I thought I smelled bad” he whispered with a smile as you caught your breath.

“Oh you do.” Ethan leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled away and stood to your feet. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” His face melted into a pout and you laughed, causing his lips to twitch up into a smile and betray his feigned offence. You reached your hands out to him and he accepted your help, standing up slowly. You noted the way he grimaced as he stood and your eyes flicked across his body in search of the source of his pain.

“Do you need help walking to the bathroom?” you asked, then rolled your eyes when he quickly shook his head. “Let me rephrase that: I’m going to help you walk to the bathroom.” Ethan grinned at you and accepted your aid, slinging an arm around your shoulder and lending you some of his weight. Slowly, the two of you made it to the bathroom where you set him down on the closed toilet seat. His shirt stayed behind on the floor of the living room, and in the dim light and sweet aroma of the candles you found in the cupboard you helped Ethan peel off the rest of his clothes and expose the wounds underneath. Mercifully, there were no major gashes besides the bullet graze on his arm.

“Are you injured at all?”

You gave him a stern look, “you’re not allowed to ask that until I’m done taking care of you.” You finished wrapping his arm and stepped back to inspect the rest of him, then walked over to the tub and started running the hot water.

You noticed the way his eyes followed you wherever you went, his gaze warm and filled with longing, like you were the most important thing in the world.

As the tub filled up you helped Ethan to his feet and into the now ankle-deep water. You pulled two towels and a facecloth from the shelf and put them on the mat in front of the tub. You’d showered earlier, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to pamper Ethan after a hard day. Goodness knows he deserves it.

You shut off the water and slid out of your sweats and t-shirt, the chill of the darkened apartment hitting you suddenly before you dipped your toes in the water. It was the perfect temperature, and warmed you instantly as you submitted yourself further into its embrace. You both sat facing each other, knees to your chests, the steam of the water rising up to color your cheeks and twist Ethan’s hair into curls.

Allowing the silence to linger like the steam in the air, you motioned for Ethan to turn around so his back was to you. You cupped your hands and brought water up to his head, soaking his hair through. You smiled to yourself as you reached for the shampoo, grateful that Ethan had remembered to bring his own products. He was very passionate about his precious hair, and the IMF’s safehouse supplies were never up to his standards.

You massaged the product into his scalp, the tension that remained in his neck melting away with every press of your fingers. His head rolled back and his shoulders dropped, and you caught a glimpse of his small smile, eyes closed in bliss. I should do this more often, you thought to yourself.

When you were done with his hair you pulled the showerhead from its hook on the wall and rinsed his head, combing your fingers through the strands as you went. Once the last of the shampoo was rinsed out you took the facecloth and lathered it up with soap. Gently, you scrubbed away the sweat and grime from the day, kneading the sore muscles beneath Ethan’s battered skin.

“I remember this one,” you whispered, so as not to startle him in the sacred stillness that had settled over the room. Your ministrations had paused at a long white scar, poorly healed and puckered. You dragged your finger down it, from the top of his right shoulder blade to his waist. “You got it in Malasia, back in ’04.” Ethan turned around to face you, a serious look set into his features.

“I remember,” he said, and you could see him flipping through the memories in his head. “You were captured. I disobeyed direct orders and went to rescue you.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile; he had saved your life that day.

“That was the day I realized I loved you.”

The sound of limbs wading through water wafted up your ears in the steam as you watched Ethan’s face, his hand coming up from the water to cup your face and his head leaning forward to rest against yours. You closed your eyes, feeling the heat radiating from his body and the dew that was rising on his skin from the heat of the water.

You’d always found a way back to each other, even before everything.

After a few minutes he pulled away and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hair, inhaling to smell your shampoo and smiling against your skin. You raised yourself out of the water and his eyes grazed over your body, a hint of his playboy smirk surfacing but he seemed to think better of it; it had been a long, tiring day for the both of you. Instead of whatever had crossed his mind, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on the front of each of your thighs. When you were both dried off, you pulled on your clothes from earlier.

“Let me go get you something, I’ll be right back.”

You returned with a soft cotton t-shirt, a deep green that complimented his tanned skin and chestnut hair beautifully, and his favorite pair of sweatpants. The sight of him in such comfortable clothes, a cheeky smile on his face, made your heart soar with joy. He deserved every comfort you could ever bring him. His hands were warm when they reached yours, fingers intertwining as you lead him into the darkened bedroom, the moon and city lights casting a gentle blue glow onto the bed.

You fell asleep almost instantly, but Ethan laid awake for hours. Despite the exhaustions of the day, he didn’t feel like he could sleep yet. He had been worried about you too; worried he would come back to the safehouse and find it empty, void of your presence which he so desperately needed. He always needed you, but after days like today he felt like he might die without you. There was no one else he felt safe enough to surrender to; no one else he could give his weakness and pain to and trust them to handle it with care.

The gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath his arm was continuously drawing him closer to sleep, but he felt the need to reflect on your time together and make sure he hasn’t taken anything for granted after being half-convinced he had lost you today.

He thought of Rome, of the way your face shone in the glow of the city lights beneath the rooftop where you danced with him. He thought of waking up beside you in countless countries that the average person could never name. He thought of the day he told you he loved you, hiding in a Russian forest while hiding for your lives. He thought of the day you were assigned to his team, your sweet and innocent face immediately lighting up his world despite the darkness that haunts him.

With your hands intertwined, your bodies as close as physically possible, and his mind filled with memories of a world with you, Ethan finally submitted himself to rest.

#look who FINALLY posted a fic #ethan hunt #tom cruise #mission impossible #mission: impossible #mission: impossible 1996 #m:i #m: i #ethan hunt fic #ethan hunt fluff #ethan hunt angst #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x you #tom cruise fic #mission impossible fic #mission: impossible fic #mission impossible dead reckoning

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love-bugsy · 1 year ago

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meet cut(e) | jason todd

the worst thing about love (two) / (one)

you’re just trying to get through your surgical residency, but this masked vigilante keeps showing up half-dead on your fire escape and reminding you of your dead best friend. oh well, at least he's cute.

tw: allusions to character death, depictions of grief, mentions of blood and injuries, swearing, completely ooc Jason but he’s like my own lil character now and I’m protective, i learned my medical terminology from grey's anatomy don't hate me

only jerks steal other people's writing (just don't repost, mate)

You’re awake when he stumbles into your apartment two weeks later. You stare at him owlishly; knees tucked up against your plush, non-indented couch, glass of Merlot in your hand kept carefully away from the carpet you just scrubbed the bloodstains out of. You set it gingerly on your coffee table, half convinced he’s not real.

“I got… a cut.” It seems strange for this masked vigilante - you may or may not have been doing some tipsy research on the hooded hero - to look so sheepish. All six feet of him stooped in your cramped apartment, one hand clutched to his side, that emotionless mask staring straight through you. You get up from your couch wordlessly, walking down the hallway to rummage through your bathroom.

First aid kit and isopropyl in hand, you return to his awkward stance in the middle of your living room; his gaze intently focused on your overstuffed bookshelf. His attention snaps to you when your sock-clad footsteps meet the edge of the plush rug separating you. From this angle, you can see the stubborn, brown bloodstain that you tried to hide under the leg of your armchair - little marks… stains or rusting memories… You gesture to your couch, and he sits, taking off his jacket.

Yanking a stool over to sit in front of him, you pull up his shirt, brows furrowing at the slice in his side. He’s undressed the cut you stitched up for him before he should have, and you examine it while you clean his most recent knife wound. Your stitches are far from perfect - the scar bulging in some areas - but for such a high tension wound, it’s healed well.

Your eyes flicker up to his blood red mask for a moment, and it occurs to you - distantly - that you should probably be terrified. I mean, seriously. A part of you screams that this is how people get murdered. Another part of you thinks that this is the most vulnerable he ever gets; his shirt off, gritting his teeth through the pain of 91% isopropyl alcohol.

Another - buried - part of you thinks this seems familiar.

Your gaze darts back down to his chest, lingering unconsciously on the end of the scar that cuts out from underneath his shirt. Your eyes catch on the ugly bruises decorating the tan expanse of his torso, some angry and purple, others a sickly yellow. He clears his throat awkwardly and your cheeks heat, returning your attention to sterilising his wound. Real classy, birdie, ogling a guy whose face you’ve never seen. He breaks the thick silence first, low voice crackling through his modulator.

“How’s it look, doc? ‘m I gonna survive?” You hide a smile beneath your exasperated look, brows knitted. Still, you can’t fully conceal the amused edge in your dry tone.

“You’re not nearly as charming when you’ve been stabbed.” He cocks his mask; unreadable. For a long moment, you think you might have actually offended him, until he huffs out a staticky laugh.

“Slashed, actually.” You scrunch your nose. Pedantic asshole.

“Look, I’ve had a long day, which wasn’t exactly made better by having to patch up a freak in a super-suit, so just… save the witty ironicism for someone who didn’t have to clean up baby vomit all day.” You can hear the smile in his voice when he responds, mask’s gaze still fixed on your face.

“Ouch, doc, and here I thought you were happy to see me.” A little pause as you meet his gaze briefly, unable to shake the familiarity… the instinctive fondness that warms your chest. His next words seem more guarded. “So, why’re you helping me then?” Good question. Your focus never falters from the slow concentric circles you’re rubbing around his wound with an alcohol soaked hand towel.

“I took an oath.” He laughs again and you quash the little spark of pride that hearing it gives you. You swap the towel in your hand for a roll of bandages and a plaster, applying the latter first before starting to wrap his waist.

“My bad, doc, I thought you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart.”

You scrunch your nose, trying to suppress the smile that tugs insistently at your mouth. Reaching for a clip, you secure his bandages and help him pull his shirt down so it doesn’t catch. You get up from the stool, shuffling it out of the way for your future self to move back in front of your kitchen island. Yawning, you stretch your hands above your head, a little noise of relief leaving your mouth when the tension in your shoulders loosens. You pretend not to notice how his mask tilts, lingering on the sliver of skin exposed as your shirt lifts.

He settles backwards, leaning his shoulders over the arm of your couch so that his legs don’t dangle over the edge. You watch as he yanks your throw blanket haphazardly over his torso and crosses his arms over his chest. You’re sure he must be keeping you in his peripheral as you startle out of eyeing him warily, but he doesn��t acknowledge any of it. Maybe to save you some dignity. Padding back to the hallway, you make it halfway before pausing, words spilling from your mouth unbidden.

“You can have some coffee, you know.”

“What?” The question comes out slurred, a full night’s worth of adrenaline finally dwindling. It brings back a flash of a near empty coffee pot - last dregs dripping slowly into a blue mug held in lethargic hands. You blink.

“In the morning.” He tilts his mask, and you stumble to elaborate, “When you sneak out. You can have some coffee.” Cautious, you study his reaction, but your vigilante doesn’t move an inch - his mask’s white slits boring holes into you like he’s trying to figure you out. Or waiting for a catch. You think he might trust you more if you give him one.

“You have to wash the mug, though. And the coffee’s old.” If you focus hard enough, you can hear something percolating - the coffee in your makeshift warmer or… the tenuous thread of something like dependency. He shifts on the couch and you suppress a wince at the stress it will put on his injuries.

“I like old coffee,” he hums out blurrily, hushed static of his modulator nearly rendering the words unintelligible. You flinch, turning off the living room light instead of responding.

You’re seventeen, he’s sixteen. You give him shit for being two months younger than you. It’s so late at night you’ll start to call it morning soon, and the two of you sit on opposite sides of a diner counter.

You lean over the counter, arms outstretched, dropping your head into your clasped hands. He reaches over you, pouring out another cup of old, lukewarm coffee. He follows it up with an unholy amount of cream and sugar - just how you like it - nudging it over to you with that wry grin of his.

“Tired, birdie?” You are tired, but not as tired as he is. You think maybe Wayne Enterprises should be funding his college tuition, not this superhero shit. Superhero shit that he never talks about, except. He used to tell you everything. You used to tell him everything.

Because he’s smart. He’s really smart. Smart enough to not risk his life every night. You want to tell him that but you know he doesn’t see it that way. In that mask, he’s infallible. Instead, you hum in agreement, dragging the mug closer and taking a sip. You scowl at the bitterness.

He frowns petulantly, looking at you with tired, amused eyes. “You don’t like my coffee?” You set down your cup, wrinkling your nose at the unexpectedly loud ‘clink’ it makes against the counter.

“You’re so dramatic, blue, only you like day-old coffee.” He gives you a dry look, one that says he’s too tired to mock-argue with you. So instead, you turn on the sink behind the counter, rinsing cutlery to load the dishwasher. You both sit in near silence, broken only by his fingers tapping carefully on the counter and your absent-minded hums.

You spend days agonising over a present as his birthday rapidly approaches, though you know he hates the fuss. You settle on a gunmetal grey lighter, shakily hand engraved with a bluejay. Something to replace his shitty BIC one, with its smudged sharpie lettering that barely spells out ‘JT’.

Secretly, you look forward to the sardonic comment he'll make about how he thought you disapproved of his cancer sticks. The truth is, you don't think you could stop enabling him.

A month out from his birthday, he drops by after patrol with your copy of Wuthering Heights. You ask if he liked it and he says he didn’t. Something, something, overly maudlin. He’s lying. He always gets that little specific crease between his eyebrows when he lies to you.

It feels like all you see lately.

Are the nightmares getting worse?

Lie.

Stayin’ out of trouble?

Lie.

Are we always going to be like this? Am I always going to lose you when you put on that suit?

Lie.

Over and over until you snap, poking a finger straight into the crease and smoothing it out. You tell him you want the truth and he tells you he can’t give it to you. You yell at him for ten hour-long minutes, sweeping angry gestures with your arms. One of them knocks over his half-full mug - blue shards shattering in the slow spill of murky coffee. You wish you remembered what he said to you, but all you remember is watching him leave. The last time he ever did.

You wait two weeks for him to come back, recording apologetic voicemails that he dodges with clipped, sullen phone calls. Then, he stops picking up at all.

His death isn’t reported on the news.

Alfred visits you once after he dies, carrying Jason’s old leather jacket like a sleeping animal that might come alive at any second. You don’t talk - not even when he hands it to you - you don’t know what you would say. You don’t know each other, you have nothing in common, except that you loved the same person once.

Your life shrinks - going through the same mechanical motions for months on end, school, work, home. It feels blasphemous to do anything but stare at the jacket - to lift it from where it hangs on the back of your door, to make it yours instead of his - until, one day, you can’t bear to be distant from him anymore. You put it on, shove your hands in the pockets like he always did, digging around. You find an old hairtie of yours in the inside pocket and a stick of apple pie flavoured lip balm you lent him last winter.

His lighter is in the front pocket, blue as his pale, dark eyes. Carefully, you place it on your desk, next to the one you meant to gift him.

Two lighters and you don’t even fucking smoke.

oof okay, this one was a bit of a monster (don't know if it bodes well for this series for me to have struggled with this chapter so much lol) but i hope you guys like it. :) i might have to take a little break over the next month because of my final exams, but rest assured, doc and jay will be back again come november. tysm for reading!

with love, bugsy

#series: the worst thing about love #love-bugsy #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd reader insert #x reader

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swift-creates · 26 days ago

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category: Gen

fandom: DC Batfamily

characters and relationships: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, unnamed evil sorcerer, very minor batfam

warnings: swearing, mention of that time Jason climbed out of his own grave, some gun use

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 9: Hypothermia, heatstroke, “You look pretty pale.”

Day 26: Electrocution, burning, “This is going to sting.”

Being a vampire is great. Unless you’re stranded in the middle of the desert.

notes: anyone want more vampire Jason?

Jason grunted as gravity shifted sideways, and he was thrown into the wall of the mad sorcerer’s sanctum. “You trespassed into the wrong domicile, Bat Family,” the magician cackled as Dick flew over Jason’s head and into a bookshelf. “You’re about to see just how powerful I am.”

“I’ve had enough of this guy,” Dick grumbled, brushing tattered pages off his shoulder. Jason couldn’t help but agree.

He fired his grappling hook and swung across the almost-vertical hallway to retrieve his pistol from where it was precariously perched on a doorknob. “You’re about to get a faceful of .45 bullets, asshole.” Bracing his feet against the ceiling, he shot at the magician, but he levitated a table to protect himself and telekinetically smacked Jason away with a flick of his hand. He tumbled down the hall, catching glimpses of the others twisting in the air as they fell beside him.

“Ah, Red Hood. You should not have done that.” He saw the door at the end of the hall open, daylight streaming through and making Jason squeeze his eyes shut. “Get ready, little Bats.

“This is going to sting.”

Then he hit the ground, and everything started to burn.

His skin was on fire, claws of sunlight digging down through tendons and muscle to rip him apart. The grains of sand on his palms were knives slicing at his charred flesh. He couldn’t breathe. He was fifteen again, choking on soil, climbing out of a grave- No. He was nineteen, and Bruce was calling his name.

He didn’t even know he was screaming until Dick was crouching over him and cupping Jason’s face in his hands. “Jay! Shhh, shh, I’m here. Just look at me, Little Wing.” Beside him, Bruce spread out his cape, blocking out the blazing light with its shadow.

“Dick,” he gasped.

“Yeah?”

“No… That magician- He’s a dick.”

Dick barked a sharp laugh and shook his head. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

It took some doing, but Jason fought off the urge to curl up and burrow into his brother’s arms. Now that he was no longer at risk of burning to death and crumbling into ashes, he could peek around the hem of Bruce’s cape and see that they were standing near the top of a sand dune, and on the other side was an endless series of other dunes, not a single tree or oasis in sight.

“Stuck in the middle of the fucking desert. Just brilliant. How do you suggest we get out of his one, Dickiebird?” He forced his voice to steady and arranged his features into a scowl.

“We could start by walking,” Tim shot back, ever the know-it-all, then shrugged when Jason gave him a deadpan look.

“I don’t know. Are you sure you’re okay, little Wing? You look pretty pale.”

“I’m a fucking vampire, Dickie. You might as well say your puppy eyes are blue.”

Dick frowned in that concerned older brother way. “Jay-”

“He’s got a point, Dick.” Tim shrugged.

Bruce produced Jason’s helmet from somewhere, and he slipped it on, instantly grateful for its protection. “We’re not getting anywhere by arguing. Let’s go.”

So they walked. And Jason tried not to feel too homicidal inside his increasingly stuffy helmet and jacket.

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lambsouvlaki · 1 year ago

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For the Hell of It - Burning (*)

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: NSFW, explicit oral sex (female receiving).

Word count: 1,920

Summary: Two years into being just very good friends, she kissed him. He kissed her back.

Masterlist

They pulled up in the parking garage below Jason’s apartment on his new motorbike. She sighed happily.

He had taken her on a day trip to Metropolis, really just as an excuse to ride around without getting rained on. They did the normal tourist things: ate hot dogs in the park, went up to the lookout on one of the classic skyscrapers, watched superman fight a giant robot above the city, heckled him, and then apologised when he flew over to complain that if they were going to judge his punches like a gymnast’s routine, at least make the scoring consistent.

Jason docked him a point for whinging.

Superman was a good sport about it. He even recommended a nice local restaurant for them, since they were visiting.

After an early dinner, and the restaurant really was very good, they took the scenic, sun-soaked route on the drive home along the coast.

Jason switched off the bike. Behind him she stretched her arms up with a groan.

He squeezed her thigh. “You getting off, or do we live here now?”

She swung her leg around and hopped off. After curling around him for the hour-long drive home in the blasting wind (Jason was unfamiliar with speed limits) she felt like she’d been contoured around him. She shook her limbs out and took off her helmet.

He sat sideways on the bike to remove his helmet and gloves. He patted the body of the bike affectionately.

“I like this one better,” she said.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“The exhaust is further from my leg, and the angle of the backseat is more comfortable. Is it smoother at high speeds or am I just imagining that?”

“No, that’s on purpose.” He looked pleased with himself. “I didn’t think you’d catch that.”

She rolled her neck, feeling out the stiffness. Her messy helmet hair flopped about her head, the weight of her curls catching on a misaligned pin somewhere. She moved her head and felt it flop back the other way.

Jason chuckled. “Come here.”

She stepped up to him and presented her head. Gently, with a rare glove-less hand, he unhooked the rogue curl from the pin it had gotten stuck on. He brushed the rest of her hair back from her face, only to get some other lock caught on a pin.

“It’s all a mess,” she said, unperturbed. There was nothing to be done about helmet hair, she had made her peace with it.

“Hmm.”

He stood and carded his hand gently through, his fingers dragging across her scalp, until he found the three pins at the back of her head holding it all together, and plucked them out. He plopped them in her hand then brushed the loose mass of her hair back again.

“There. Fixed it,” he said, then moved another lock anyway.

She gave him a sardonic smile. She knew he just liked running his hands through her hair. And he knew she knew he just liked running his hands through it.

He smirked and brushed a curl behind her ear.

With no forethought, she rose up on her toes and pecked him on the lips.

He chased her lips for a chaste retaliatory kiss, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Then they blinked at each other. The only sound was the ticking of the bike’s cooling engine.

He leaned forward and kissed her again, tentative.

She opened her mouth to him, and he was no longer tentative. She made a soft, needy sound. His arms wrapped around her waist, stabilising her, and he pushed in deeper. She desperately silenced the fizzy, almost hysterical realisation that two years of trying to deny how badly she wanted him all amounted to nothing.

Jason kissed her like he expected to be stopped at any moment. As though she was his air and each breath would surely be his last. There was no inch of her he didn’t want, and it made her knees weak.

She pulled back with a heavy breath eventually. Her hands grasped the lapels of his jacket desperately, and his strong arms were still wrapped around her waist. They were very close, wound together in a tiny little bubble of nothing but themselves.

“Oh,” she breathed, slightly light headed. “We said we weren’t going to do that.”

His eyes were like a storm on the horizon, the darkening green hiding something powerful and hungry and promising.

“What if we did it anyway?”

She slanted her mouth against his in desperation.

His hand slid up her back to her neck, and he angled her head as he liked. He swallowed her moan. She pressed her body against his, and he growled low in his throat.

Need coiled tight in her abdomen.

A car pulled into the garage with a loud shriek of tires of concrete.

It startled them both, and they pulled apart. She was breathing hard. He looked away for only a moment before all his attention fixed upon her again. It was scorching.

The other guy got out of his car and briefly looked over. That shook them into moving, and they picked up their things and walked in silence towards the elevator.

They had to share the carriage with the stranger, and they stood a respectable, tortuous distance apart from each other.

Jason’s hands opened and closed into tight fists. She tossed her hair back, rearranging it with a nervous flutter in her stomach.

They remained politely apart even after the other passenger left, and they got out at Jason’s level. He let her into his apartment the same as he had many times before, and she put her helmet and bag on the entryway table.

Then Jason stood in front of her. He backed her up against the closed door. She could feel her heartbeat picking up. Meeting her eye, he reached behind her to lock the door.

“Still with me?” he asked, in a low voice.

“Please kiss me.”

A wicked grin curled at his lips before he was on her.

Where before he had been opportunistic and desperate, now he was confident and unhurried. His body bracketed hers against the door as he drank from her lips. His large hands snaked over her figure, tracing, squeezing, caressing, and taking his sweet time exploring every little dip and swell.

He pulled her jacket zip down, then pushed it off her shoulders and discarded it behind himself. She nipped his lips and tried to undo his jacket but he wouldn’t let her. His clever fingers worked at the buttons of her blouse.

Her head fell back against the door as his lips trailed down her neck and across her collarbone. He trailed down further. She looked down and caught his eye just as he unlatched the front closure of her bra with his teeth.

She groaned at how fucking hot it was.

He pulled her shirt and bra off and cast them aside too. He sank to his knees, wrapped his hands around both sides of her waist, and kissed his way down her stomach. She cradled the back of his head, running her fingers through his hair. He pulled her forward from the wall enough to slide her jeans and panties down her legs. Her cheeks were flushed and her heart felt like it beat out of time. He was in complete control, and yet so achingly tender with her.

“I had a dream like this once,” she said.

“Did you?” He kissed the swell of her thigh. “How did it end?”

“I woke up.”

He took a little bite of her thigh and looked up at her. “You’re not escaping me that easy.”

He buried his nose into the soft thatch of curls at her core, and he lifted her leg onto his shoulder. She sighed and curled over him, but he lifted a hand to her abdomen and pushed her back lightly.

“Lean against the door,” he said.

She did as instructed, more than happy to be swept along, and he wrapped a strong arm around her other thigh. He lifted her onto his shoulders entirely. She gasped, before he stood up, hoisting her up against the wall. She pressed a hand against the wall to stabilise herself, but she didn’t need it. Strong back muscles flexed against her calves and he straightened up.

He made it look effortless.

His eyes glinted between her thighs.

Her dreams couldn’t begin to compete.

“So beautiful,” he said, before he put his tongue to better use.

She felt like a feast laid out before him. One of his hands wrapped around her thigh, while the other pushed inside of her. He set a tortuous slow pace. She moaned and whimpered and whined with abandon. She kept her hand buried in his hair and tried not to strangle him with her thighs.

“Do you want me, sweetheart?” he asked, licking his glistening lips.

“So badly. I need you.”

“Good girl.”

She clenched on his fingers. He smiled like a shark and reapplied himself to his work. She arched her back and choked back his name, belatedly finding her shame.

She was completely naked, suspended halfway up the wall on nothing but her best friend’s broad shoulders, while he, in full leather biker gear, ate her out like he had never tasted anything sweeter.

Fuck. She didn’t think she had ever been this turned on in her life. She clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling helpless and overwhelmed by how much she liked it.

“None of that,” he drawled, replacing his tongue with his thumb on her clit. “I want to hear you.”

He worked her over patiently, relentlessly, driving her higher and higher.

“There’s nobody here but me, no one will ever know if you scream my name when you cum.”

She wanted to give a cutting reply to his smugness, but there were no words on her lips. The look she gave him was all pleading, no sass.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said. A soft smile lit up his face. “Wrecked already?”

“It’s been… a very long time.”

“Mmm, and you’re being such a good girl for me.” He dragged his tongue through her folds. His chin glistened. “You like that, don’t you? You want to be good for me?”

She let out a desperate, mangled cry.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “The sounds you make. I don’t ever want to stop.”

She was so close to the edge that tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Her legs trembled around his head. Her breathing came short and fast now, and the tight coil in her lower belly turned impossibly tighter still.

He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world.

“Jason,” she managed, “Please–please, Jay–I need–”

“Go on, beautiful. I’ll catch you.”

Her back arched, her legs tangled around his head, and she fell apart. Sweetest pleasure wracked through her, whiting out her vision. She sobbed his name.

He worked her through it, wringing out every exultant aftershock and whimper. She was floating on a cloud of sensation and only vaguely aware that she was being lowered down. Jason propped her against the wall and rolled his shoulders before he loosely wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder, utterly boneless.

“Alright?” he murmured into her ear.

“Fuck, Jay. I’m going to need a month to recover from that.”

He chuckled, as self satisfied as she’d ever heard him. “I hope not. Because we’re only getting started.”

Next>>

#soft dom jason #Jason as a service top #Jason does what Batman won't #ie: give head #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #dc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #for the hell of it #smut #fluff

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asexual-juliet · 23 days ago

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saw the outsiders night of 10/12/24 & here are my thoughts!!

josh strobl on for pony, andre on for steve, ryo on for brill, henry on for chet

before the show my friend and i were waiting in line outside the theater and daryl peeked his head out the window above us and waved to the crowd but very few people noticed and then jason peeked his head out and we were the first people who saw him and we waved and then he waved back at us specifically!!!

josh strobl & his beautiful little broadway voice - his voice is so different from brody’s and trevor’s and it was so cool to hear the songs delivered in kind of a different way!!

josh strobl is so short omfg every conversation pony had with darry was like. yes obviously that’s a big brother and his little brother one of them is literally a head taller than the other.

him being so short was also very good for the fourteen-year-old vibe!! i always talk about trevor being so fourteen in his portrayal of ponyboy and josh was also fantastic in that regard!

melody & ryo were Thee cutest couple in the world in the background of tulsa ‘67 and the drive-in omgggg

moment where johnny cleans up pony’s face with his little rag in early act i is always a win for me personally

DARYL TOFA THE MAN THAT YOU ARE <3 literally the main reason i decided to see the show again was because i didn’t see daryl or sky last time and they did not fucking disappoint!!!

some very soft soda pony moments on the car before great expectations - there was a moment where soda put his arm over pony’s shoulder and said “signing off now, okay?” in the softest voice i think i audibly went “aww” <3 <3 <3

emma cherry josh pony height difference save me. holy shit. played in so well to the sixteen year old girl/little fourteen year old boy dynamic and like. ugh something about him looking up to her is so precious to me

two-bit calling bob “robert” will always be famous, as will “eat shit, marcia!” lmfao

ponyboy’s “out. in the world.” is so fucking funny he’s such a little shit

lighting and sound for when darry hit ponyboy my beloved

josh spit on kwp so bad during the fountain scene that some of it ricocheted off back onto his own face lmfaooo

there is a moment during run run brother where pony and johnny are running across the stage and they pause at center with like their hands on each other’s shoulders and make beautiful eye contact before they keep running <3 <3 <3

moment during justice for tulsa where cherry is sitting on the tire with bob’s varsity jacket on her shoulders and from behind her marcia very gently gathers her hair and puts it over her shoulder and then she has her hand on cherry’s shoulder for a little bit <3

emma opt up on “out looking for a fight” you will always be famous

cherry holding her hand out for marcia in jft got me holy shit

two-bit getting jumped in jft fuckin hits different when ryo is playing a soc holy shit it is so narratively fascinating for one of the only two asian characters in the show to be beating the shit out of the other one. please god someone talk to me about this in a ryo paul context

sky-josh moment after death’s at my door was PERFECT- sky held out his hand for the knife and held josh’s hand when he handed it over and then put his other hand very gently on josh’s shoulder until the lights went down

sky’s “you like her :)” about cherry was fucking precious

ponyboy watching darry on the final “ponyboy this house ain’t a home without you” …holy fucking shit

there is a moment during hoods turned heroes i think where darry picks ace up and it is very cute <3 she is also on his shoulders at one point which is adorable

when two-bit hands darry the newspaper in hoods turned heroes he starts smiling for thee rest of the song because he is so proud of his baby brother 💕💕💕

there is also a little bit in hoods turned heroes where darry very playfully hits soda with the newspaper it is very cute <3

i completely forgot that emma pittman belts hopeless war kneeling on the floor?? holy fuck

paul and darry first ones who enter before the rumble both in white t shirts that’s what i call a visual parallel baby!!!!

when darry said “once a grease always a grease” soda went “yaaayy!” it made me laugh out loud. overall jason was very silly tonight it was very charming <3

soda hugging pony from behind during little brother holy fuck. josh is like on the ground after johnny dies and jason comes up behind him and just holds him <3 <3 <3 im so ill about them

josh did the “does anybody care?” in little brother very similarly to how daryl does it and i do not remember him doing that the first time i saw it!

with where he was sitting on the set josh looked like a little kid on the playground during dally’s death it was fucking heartbreaking

had a borderline religious experience watching sky sing stay gold live. i have known a love that many never know btw. if u even care.

soda’s little “ok” after ponyboy says “there’s a lot more inside me than just grease” was so fucking cute

andre, jason, josh, ryo, melody, kwp, tilly, emma & henry came out to stagedoor after the show!!

just wanna say. jason schmidt girlies i get it. he was looking at me with those big blue eyes and i was catapulted back into the days when i thought i liked boys holy fuck

genuinely think josh strobl was like three inches taller than me and i an very short lmfao

ryo was SO sweet and like went to sign the drawing i gave him before i was like “it’s for you!” and he was very excited when he saw the note i wrote on the back!! he was also very excited and remembered me when i said i was the one who posted the drawing for his paul debut!! i think he forgot to sign my playbill because he was so distracted by the art lmfaoo <3 did not get a photo with him for similar reasons lol but he was so wonderful!!

emma pittman sweetest woman alive holy shit!! when i handed her my drawing of the soc girls she just went “i love women” lmfao

henry also remembered me when i awkwardly reintroduced myself as the one who gave him the drawing in july and he was like “yes it’s my favorite i have it on display in my dressing room!” and when i was like “i know i see it in your instagram stories but this one is better” he was like “i love the old one too” and when i explained that him being so nice about my art in july was what made me do the whole new set of drawings he gave me a hug <3 henry juliàn gendron u will ALWAYS be famous to me!!!

#the outsiders #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #outsiders musical

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a-cat-in-toffee · 2 months ago

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POST WHERE I TALK ABOUT MY HERO OUTFIT DESIGNS FOR END OF SEASON 2 SLASH SEASON 3 PRIME DEFNDERS :33 LONG ASS POST FOR THE RECORD

also I have pictures of their og design in this so. warning for white skinny pd jumpscare /joking

for sake of navigation I'm going in the order I drew them, and the order theyre in on the above image heart emoji.

"Virion" Vyncent Sol up first!! also can we talk about how his hero name is straight up just his name. lol. lmao even.

I HAD THE MOST PLAN FOR VYNCENT GOING IN TBH I wanted something similiar to the origami outfit while still staying reminiscent of his old outfit

I knew I wanted the jacket and I went with the turtleneck so it was the same as Jason's outfit. also Jason has really cool glove sleeve things I thought that was so fucking cool guys. and vyncent is generally from an actual outfit standpoint like... really simplistic? so just ourple pants and boots seemed most logical. I liked the mask and it was in both of his old designs so I decided to stick with it.

and then of course. the belts. there are ten total belts on his outfit jot including the two that would come with the sheath LMAO. plus the two pd colored belts on his boots!! I decided while drawing I wanted them all to have something in eachothers colors cause thats really cute.

i MUCHHH prefer the shorter jacket because of how it shows off the outfit and is reminiscent of his s2 post fauna design . . .

generally had the most idea going into his so there was very little in ways of additional sketching

also the Japanese where Jason's jacket had said Origami straight up just says Knife. I thought that was so funny. ENTIRELY ACCIDENTAL THING his outfit is basically just cantrips but colors flipped LMAO

BUT THATS ALL FOR VYNCENT. next up is (drum roll please)

"Wisperer" William Wisp!!! El wiwi himself. OKAY SO AS YOU MAY NOTICE. THIS IS DIFFERENT THAN THE DESIGN I ORIGINALLY POSTED. I had Not been happy with that one because it felt too cluttered and a little out of character so I ended up redesigning his jacket and redrawing the refs.

WILLIAMS OUTFIT WAS REALLY FUN THO I ended up going with a gas mask like he had in the greyscale arc, hoodie (which will get its own paragraph), cargo pants!! for his cargo and gadgets and gizmos, and then. because it's me and he's william. platformish boots laced with the orlther pds colors.

the hoodie was the thing I had changed in the new design because the old design wasn't william wisp enough for me yknow

i wnjoyed the outfit and it looked really need but it was much more complicated than his original hero suit and didn't really seem like smthn he'd design and wear.

i really liked the wisp belt and wanted to keep that wisp motif, which is why I ended up putting the flames on his sleeves! it looks cool as hell and keeps w the flame designs. IM ALSO SUPER ATTACHED TO THE WISPERER W THAT WAS ON HIS ORIGINAL HERO DESIGN.... so the hoodie has a stylized w.

also dakota and vyncent beads :)

I HAD A.... PROCESS MAKING THIS ONE LMAO. SO THERES A HANDFUL OF DRAFTS

i cinsidered adding stuff to make his outfit like Silhouettes then remebered i haye Silhouettes outfit. the images are out of order but I'm on mobile and can't be fucked to fix it. NEXT UP!!!!!!

"DC" Dakota Cole! only SLIGHTLY better than vyncent just using his name, bro is using his initials......

I CHANGED THE LEAST ABOUT HIS DESIGN HONESTLY. it was very nice to just get to draw Dakota though :)

the most I changed was I made it a bit simpler, and changed the jacket to be more like the Hexpert armor

also made the zipper look like her weird chest thingy....

I REALLY DISLIKE THE SHOES AND THE LITTLE BITS ON HIS ANKLES THOUGH. SO I CHANGED EM. they're now his thing in the others color heart emoji. I'd like to think they all sat down together and brainstormed ways to encorperate eachother into their costumes.....

i also made a little note of the back of hia jacket and I tried to make it look like a jersey

because he played soccer :)

ALSO.... DAKOTA COLE HONEY YOU SHOULD NOT ME WEARING A BELT EITH A BUCKLE. but it looks cool </3 if a little impractical

BUT THATS ALL OF EM FOR NOW..... love these guys.

next I. tackle redesigning this thing.

sighs. I so got this

#just roll with it #pd outfits #HEHE I LIKE TALKING ABT STUFF.....

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bluejaysandblackbats · 5 months ago

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Phantom Grin

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Bruce Wayne visits his son's grave on the night of his resurrection. Will it change Jason's fate, or is it all simply inevitable?

Chapters: 18/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd is Disabled, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Resurrected Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

Chapter Eighteen: Dick's Day Out

Dick visited Jason and sat with him while Bruce followed a lead. Jason watched TV with his head near Dick’s side of the couch. “Master Dick, Master Jason, are you hungry?” Alfred questioned.

“Sure. Thank you,” Dick whispered, “Jason?”

“Okay,” Jason mumbled. Dick playfully mimed elbow dropping on Jason’s face.

“I’m killin’ you,” Dick joked as he threw in a few mimed punches. Jason laughed and swatted his hand away. It was the first time he’d smiled since the bathtub incident four days ago. Dick jumped at him.

“Ooh, you wish,” Jason replied.

“There he is,” Dick smiled, “What’s going on? Everyone’s acting weird.” Jason’s smile faded.

“They didn’t tell you I blacked out twice? Did they tell you I hallucinated being covered in blood? The nightmares? ” Jason questioned. Dick shook his head.

“Nope, they told me they found you the other day,” Dick answered, “They didn’t tell me anything. Jason, how are you doing?”

“I’m scared to sleep. I can’t trust myself. All my senses are lying to me,” Jason replied, “I—.” Dick smiled. “Why are you smiling?”

“What if your senses aren’t lying?” Dick questioned. Jason furrowed his brows. “Okay, walk me through everything.”

Jason explained how he met Indigo at the church and lost time the last few times he met with her. He told Dick about his nightmares and the migraine. Alfred brought their lunch and Jason’s medication. “Thanks, Alfred,” Jason whispered.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Dick smiled. After Alfred left the room, Dick sighed.

“Now, do you get it? I’m losing my mind,” Jason replied.

“No… I don’t think you are. Jason, eat up. How do you feel about rolling with me today?” Dick asked.

Jason scarfed down half a tuna sandwich and french fries before taking his meds. “Dick, what are you saying?” Jason asked.

“I’m saying you should trust your senses. It sounds like you’ve got your first post-resurrection case, and we should work it together,” Dick smiled.

Jason finished his sandwich, swallowing hard before replying. “Dad’s gonna lose it if I go missing again,” Jason mumbled.

“I’m not gonna lose you,” Dick reassured.

“I’m gonna get in trouble,” Jason replied.

“Damn… I’ve never known you to be chicken,” Dick half-smiled.

Jason scowled and finished drinking his milk. He stood up while Dick taunted him. “Shut up, I’m gonna get dressed,” Jason replied.

Dick waited at the foot of the stairs. Jason threw on a thick hoodie, jeans, and combat boots. “Jesus, Jason… It’s eighty-seven degrees and sunny out there,” Dick half-joked.

“I know,” Jason replied.

“Hm… Okay,” Dick mumbled.

Jason frowned at him, pulling his hood up before heading down the stairs. “Don’t do that,” Jason grumbled.

“So, we can’t talk about it?” Dick questioned.

Jason chewed his lip, turning around as Dick stood at the top of the stairs. “My skin hurts. It hasn’t stopped hurting since the bathtub. I thought it was a reaction to being in a dirty tub, but I don’t have a rash,” Jason replied.

“Then why are you covering—?”

“Before I show you, you have to promise to stay calm… And believe me when I say I don’t know how it happened,” Jason replied. Dick nodded, and Jason pulled his jacket up to reveal slash marks on his stomach, then he rolled up his sleeves to show the scratches and bruises on his arms.

“And this was after the bathtub?” Dick questioned. Jason nodded, covering his arms. “Did you tell—?”

“Dad’s freaking out… Barbara and Tim want to run tests on me. Cass—. Actually, Cass is the same,” Jason whispered. Dick nodded, leading Jason to the car. “Can I drive?”

“You’re experiencing blackouts—.”

“And you drive like you’re in a videogame,” Jason interrupted.

“Hm… No, we’re gonna stick with the driver who’s sure to remain conscious,” Dick answered as he patted Jason on the back.

“Tracking device?” Jason questioned.

“Can’t be too careful,” Dick answered.

Jason fell asleep in the car, and Dick parked and waited. Jason breathed heavily as he unbuckled his seatbelt. Dick unlocked the door, and Jason got out. He let Jason sleepwalk down the street before following him. “Please be sleepwalking for cool reasons,” Dick whispered. The leisurely pace Dick walked at concealed his worries. He refused to let Jason see him waver. They got to a crosswalk, and Jason started to cross the street while cars drove through, and Dick yanked him by the back of his shirt. “Easy there bucko.” He held on until the crosswalk light turned on. Jason crossed the street and continued toward the church. Jason headed through the front entrance of the church.

Slipping through the hallways with general ease, Jason found the staircase to the basement, and he stood at the foot of the stairs, trembling. “Father?” Jason asked, pausing to wait for an answer. Falling to his knees, he stared at the rug in the corner of the room. Beads of sweat formed on Jason’s forehead, slowly dripping down the sides of his face. Jason started praying in a whisper tone that quickly built into a loud and fervent petition for protection.

“Jason—.”

Jason fell on his back as if pushed and swung at nothing. “No… No. No. No no no no—. Stop!” Jason screamed. “Stop!”

“Jason,” Dick called him. Jason swatted something away and started running up the stairs and out of the church. Dick followed him. “Jason, wait up!”

Jason cut through the courtyard and exited through the side gate. “Jason, snap out of it!”

Jason made desperate crying noises as he cut his clothes on the briar bushes. Beyond the bushes, was a partially forested park across the street from a graveyard. Jason grabbed his arm, before falling on his back. “Please,” Jason begged. Dick stopped in his tracks, staring as something struggled with Jason. He sobbed and kicked before clutching his throat. He gurgled and choked as something dragged him toward a grave. Jason gasped and sat up.

“Jason?” Dick questioned.

Jason turned to Dick before throwing up in the grass. Dick pulled Jason off the ground. “What happened?” Jason questioned.

“I think you reenacted a murder,” Dick replied.

“No… I experienced it,” Jason rasped as he pulled the neck of his hoodie down to reveal a scar on his throat. Dick winced.

“Running the risk of sounding like a jerk… Are you playing some kind of—?” Jason glared at him. “Right.”

Jason walked toward a grave and pointed to the stone. “I think—. I—.” Jason shut his eyes and sighed. “There are two bodies in this grave.”

Dick scratched his head. “Well, we’re not digging up a grave in broad daylight… What do you wanna do?” Dick questioned.

“I wanna work the case. Come on,” Jason replied.

“Where are we headed? Do you have any idea?” Dick asked. Jason paused, shutting his eyes.

“Can you call your friend, Helena?” Jason asked. “I need to know where she picked me up… Also, this was a new grave when I dreamt it.” Jason looked at the year and swallowed hard, turning away to compose himself.

“Jason? You o—?” Dick looked at the tombstone. “Hey, are you—?”

Jason held his finger up while he fought the rising nausea in his throat. He choked it down. “This was a week before I died, Dick,” Jason mumbled.

#fic #phantom grin fic #batfam #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Alfred Pennyworth #Barbara Gordon #Tim Drake #Cassandra Cain #Jason Todd/Original Character #Canon Divergent AU #Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain #Jason Todd is Disabled #Barbara Gordon is Oracle #Resurrected Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating #Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Get Along

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arobinwithoutbatman · 8 months ago

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@1mpulsee closed starter

Typically, Tim wasn't one for leather; that was Jason's thing. But here he was in the back corner of a bar where the music wasn't quite as deafening and there weren't many people back here, giving them at least a sense of privacy. Tim had been bringing Bart here over the last couple of months with steadily increasing frequency for a specific kind of date. Technically speaking, they were playing their game or rather, doing some much needed set up for the culmination of their game later at home.

Right now, and whenever they came to this bar and while he was wearing this specific jacket, Tim was playing a character. He'd gotten to pretend to get to know and woo Bart all over again, enjoying playful conversation and casual flirting as though they hadn't been together since they were teenagers. They'd made plenty of time for dates just as themselves too, of course, make sure their actual relationship got all the usual attention and it even got an exta boost as they had both fallen in love with each other all over again. That had been a fun talk mid dinner all snuggled on the sofa watching fail videos.

They'd already been here for several hours, enjoying some snacks and a couple of drinks, Tim keeping to soda as he was driving, and he currently had his forehead rested against Bart's after a particularly intense makeout session. One hand rested on the side of Bart's neck, thumb stroking over his pulse point.

"Can I take you back to my place, angel?" He asked, speaking into Bart's ear. He couldn't really whisper or murmur in here with the noise but hopefully, this gave the same feeling of intimacy and desire.

#1mpulsee #ic #Tim Drake The Boy #v: nebulous future #thread: fake vampire date #p: fast #r: speed racer

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 7 months ago

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Code Blue Ch. 49-No Escape From Now

Summary: Josie spends a long stormy night with Dave. The boy who cried wolf puts him in the dog house. A sweet smelling apology is made. CHEERS! The thunder rolls and Josie has had enough. The boy cries bloody wolf again. The new sunny side up morning brings many surprises. The early bird catches more than the worm. Someone's anger gets the best of them. You have the right to remain silent. A shocking reveal comes to light as Lee remembers.

*Chapter Warnings* DARK, language, angst, alcohol use, mentions of murder, graphic gif depictions, self pleasure, smut, mild violence, arrest,

Chapter characters: Josie, David, Luke, Lee

Chapter word count: 5,317

Grandview, MA

March 21, 2022

You were stiff as a board on the long and treacherous drive back to Dave's as the relentless rain had mutated into an angry wind storm full of tumultuous thunder and livid lightning along the way. He tried to hold your hand to calm your anxiety but you insisted he keep both of his hands on the wheel. Finally, after 30 torturous minutes of having to pee, Dave pulled into the driveway of his humble little abode in Grandview that was perfect for a bachelor like him and a perfect getaway for you, but deep down you knew that there was no escape from now.

"You ready??" Dave asked with his hand on the door handle. "1...2.......3!"

Bolting out of the truck, you squealed as you ran into the dry safe haven of the foyer with Dave chuckling behind you.

"You don't lock your doors?" you panted as you dripped all over the floor.

"Guess I forgot in my rush to chase a 5 year old ghost." he jested and helped you out of your wet jacket. "I'll go check the house if it will make you feel better."

"Yeah well...duhh!" you riposted and stood in place while you watched Dave run up the creaky wooden stairs, skipping every other step with his long strides.

After hearing his footsteps and door after door close to the 3 bedrooms, bathroom and closets...all went quiet.

"Dave??" you meeped as you leaned without stepping out of place to peek up the L shaped staircase.

There was still no answer and then.....

"AHHH!!!!" Dave bellowed, sending you sprinting backwards against the front door.

Frozen solid and panting heavily, you managed to stutter out his name. "D...David!?"

You gasped and damn near relieved your full bladder as Dave's hand slapped over the doorway's frame and then his face slowly appeared with a wicked grin.

"You....ASSHOLE!!!"

You stomped off through the kitchen and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut as hard as you could.

"Josie." Dave snickered as he tapped on the door. "I'm sorry. I was just playi..."

"If I didn't have to pee so damn bad, I would have gotten a frying pan and knocked you into next week!... Arrrrgh!"

"Jo, really. I'm sorr...."

The toilet flushed and the door instantly swung open with you standing there, you lips pursed and your narrowed eyes fuming.

"Damn you're so cute when you're mad."

"Asshat." you snarled and shoved past him to the kitchen where you angrily pulled out 2 margarita glasses with the cactus stems and stared him down. "Well??? It's midnight, margarita man and they better be extra strong."

"Yes dear." he snarked as he now stood before you, peering down at you with an arched brow.

"What?"

"The blender. It's behind you."

"Oh..."

You stepped aside with a huff and went to sit on a stool at the table bar that extended off of the gas stove island in the center of the small but homey kitchen and watched him collect the items to concoct his merciless margaritas. The same ones he made at Jason's funeral reception that, by the end of the night, had Orlando carrying you up to your bed.

"Damn it." Dave snapped as he rooted through the fridge.

"What now?"

"I don't have any oranges or limes."

"Soooo, use that Rosie's lime juice and surely you must have some OJ??"

Dave gasped. "Sacrilege! Fresh squeezed is the only way to go to create my magicritas."

"Alright Mr. perfectionist. Wine will have to do."

"Nope. I promised midnight margaritas and that is what I will make you. Just give me 15 minutes."

Dave began putting his coat back on with a rain jacket over top and grabbed his keys.

"Wait, what are you doing????"

"Running down to the 24/7 on the corner."

"In this storm?? At midnight???"

"Citrus Jo. Need citrus. It's right around the corner. You know that. I'll be back in a jiffy."

Before you could further protest, Dave was out the door and driving off in his truck.

You locked the door behind him and went back to the kitchen to at least grab a beer and some snacks while you waited. Upon opening the fridge, there in plain sight sat a bag of oranges and limes.

"What the???" you whispered as you yanked them out of the fridge. "What the hell are you up to my bff?"

You popped open the strangely named beer that you were not even going to attempt to pronounce and sat back down, sipping on it with a sour expression, for to simply put it, it tasted like shit and as you waited in your parched boredom, your thoughts began to roam about Dave's gift that Lee also possessed.

Dave had first opened up to you about his ability to see and speak to the dead shortly after a trauma he had suffered which you had helped him through. Although he had seen things as a child, the older he got, the less the occurrences became until they eventually ceased altogether but his mediumship strangely returned after witnessing his biological father, Victor Cassadine, murder the man he had known as his father for most of his life, Duke Lavery. It had all went down at a yearly Metro Court event, the Nurses Ball, that you attended with Dave and Britt. Later that evening, you found Dave on the pier, holding Duke who died in his arms from a bullet wound to the chest and Victor was never implicated because, before you showed up, he coerced Dave to lie by threatening the people he loved.

The rich and powerful Cassadine clan weren't connected to the mob but were highly infamous nonetheless with their Russian royalty bloodlines, pretty much like Gerry's Greek tycoon father, Victor Kiriakis and in your opinion, they both put the mafia to shame with their capabilities and lack of morals, which is why Dave's relationship with his father was a bit rocky, unlike Gerry's with his dad and that always baffled you since he was a law abiding citizen with a badge. None of it made sense with Dave either, for he still adored his troublesome mother who had many ties to that world, one being of Cesar Faison, Britt's terrorist father. Organized crime or not, it was all the same to you and you had become sucked into all of it beginning with one person. Jason.

Now your thoughts went to Lee. He had certainly suffered a great trauma. The accident with Jacob and his death. Could that be a relevant reason as to why Lee could see his son? He had also seen his mother and father at one point. But why was it happening now and not then? Or could this all be related to something that happened long ago and has something to do with what Lee has been harboring? Maybe you should just go and force it out of Luke but, would that further damage things between you and Lee? Or maybe...too much damage had already been done and you should just let it all go. Lee included.

You heard the slamming of Dave's truck door and ran to greet him because now you felt bad for jumping down his throat, although he deserved it.

The front door opened before you could open it and in walked a damp but still dashing Dave who whipped the hood of his raincoat off and quickly handed you a dozen red roses that he was concealing behind his back.

"For you." he softly said with a sweet smile. "I'm really sorry."

"These are some odd looking fruit. You went out in this mess just to buy me an apology?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah well now you owe me one for lying about the reason you went." you quipped and you inhaled the heavenly floral aroma, then headed to the kitchen in search for a vase.

Dave followed you as he removed his coat and shoes, then he saw the oranges and limes on the counter.

"Busssted....but if I would have told you why I was going, it just wouldn't have been as meaningful as a surprise."

You approached him and pushed his saturated strands from his baby blues. "Alright. You're forgiven, now get busy. You're late."

Dave glanced at the clock that now said 12:15. "On it! Why don't you go pick out that movie."

"K...but I've had enough horror for the night. How about a fantasy? We still need to watch Snow White, A Tale of Terror."

"And that's not horror??" Dave asked as he kicked the blender on.

"It's more witchy than slasher."

"You've only seen it a thousand times. You just like go on about Gutenberg, swearing that he is me. And let us not forget that his first name is Peter."

"Never mind that. They say everyone has a twin and he is yours."

Dave came in with the drinks, sat them down and got a fire going.

"I do not look like him and I hate his clothes, plus he has red hair Jo. The only one that looks good around here with fiery tresses is you."

"Hmmm I don't know. Gutenberg is pretty hot." you giggled as you took a huge gulp of your liquid gold.

"Right. That must be why Lilli wanted to be with Will instead. Wait, did you just call me hot?"

"Nope. You don't look like him remember??"

"Alright, the movie is going in Princess. Zip your lip unless it's to drink."

You grinned and cuddled up beside him on the couch. After halfway through the movie and 3 drinks in, you couldn't hold your tipsy tongue anymore.

"See!!! LOOK. It's YOU!! Baby blues and all!!"

"Ok. You're cut off." he chuckled. "It's almost 2 am Josie. Let me put the fire out and help you up to the guest room."

"I can walk Davey!"

"Josie, even when sober, you couldn't walk from here to the front door without tripping over nothing."

"Hardy har har. Fine. I have so much shit to do tomorrow anyways but right now, all I want to do is sleep off this twisted tequila."

Dave took care of the fireplace as you sucked out every last drop from your glass, then his and when you stood up, the booze caught up with you. Down you went, laughing like a hyena.

"You see?? Come on. It's piggy back time."

Dave crouched over in front of you and you clumsily climbed on, burying your nose into his rain scented hair, then up the stairs he carried you and let you slide down onto the bed.

"Goodnight Jo Jo."

You took his hand and wouldn't let him go as he turned to leave.

"Thank you for the roses and the midnight madness. You know I love you right?"

Dave's smile held a subtle sadness. "Just not in the way Lilli loves Will."

"Dave I..."

"Shhh. Go to sleep. I'm right next door if you need me. Night Jo."

He kissed your head and left, shutting the door behind him and you laid there for a moment, gazing at the spinning ceiling.

"Not in the way I love you Lee." you whispered and then your eyes closed.

3 hours later, they popped wide open when a bellowing boom of thunder shook your bed. Gasping as you realized where you were, you ran straight into Dave's room in a panting panic, startling him awake from his deep slumber. You never understood how anyone could sleep through such a ruckus.

"Josie? Hey, it's ok. Come here."

"No. No Dave. I...I need to go home."

"What? Jo, it's 5:30 am. Wait till sunrise and I'll make you some breakfast, then I'll take you. Come lay down with me. I won't bite....hard." he joked as he bobbed his brows up and down.

You knew he was just trying to help you relax but you couldn't do it. You had already felt guilty about sleeping in Orlando's bed the night, even if it was solely to keep an eye on his breathing after Luke had almost choked the life out of him. You had been honest with Lee and he understood, but you didn't think he would about it being over a storm.

"Dave, no. I really shouldn't."

He sighed and seemed a bit peeved. "We've been best friends for how long now and I have never tried anything on you now have I? I wouldn't do that. I don't see the problem with trying to comfort you when you're scared."

"Dave I know that. That's not the problem. It's...Lee."

"How did I already know that?" he bemoaned.

"Dave, I..."

"Josie, it's fine. I'll get up and take you."

"Well...could we still eat breakfast first? I'm really hungry."

"Sure. Let me go grab a shower. I'll see you downstairs in a bit." he uttered and headed down the hall to the bathroom.

You ran to the doorway. "Dave, you shouldn't take a shower in a stor..."

"I'll be fine Josie." he interrupted with a sigh full of sarcasm and shut bathroom the door without even looking back at you.

Dave turned the water and undressed, then climbed in when it was cold enough to wake him up and put other parts of him to sleep. he leaned on the wall and doused his head under the cool stream as he stared down at his uncooperative morning wood, so he decided to quickly satisfy it's needs.

After lathering up his hand with some soap, he swiftly brought his throbbing member to a hip shattering release in merely 20 vigorous strokes just to get it over with, for he felt guilty that he thought of you while doing so and he blamed it on the dream he was having just before you woke him up. One where you desired him in ways he could have never imagined.

As he panted through the last pulse, he then raised the temperature to a tolerable warmth and let the water drown his face...until he realized the water had turned to blood.

"AHHHHH! HEY!!!" he shrieked as he backed away in a daze.

You sat on the edge of his bed, checking your phone to see if your mom had called and since she hadn't, you figured no news was good news and surprisingly, you didn't have any texts or calls from Lee either, which you weren't so sure if that was good news.

You brought up Lee's number and as your finger hovered with hesitancy over the call button, you heard Dave's yell and this time, it sounded legit. Dropping your phone, you raced to the bathroom door but it was locked so you you began pounding on it.

"Dave!!! What's wrong???!!!"

He stared up at the showerhead and then in a moment of clarity and humiliation, he realized it was only rust.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's just a plumbing job I did the other day. Rusty water."

"O...oh." you sighed in relief and then giggled. "Gross."

"I heard that! Not funny Jo."

You started singing to tease him. "Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon, you come and go, you come and gooooo ohhh!"

"Girl, I'm going to come out there butt ass naked and carry you in here with me! Here I come!!" he playfully threatened.

"Oh hell no!" you squealed and ran downstairs laughing, knowing he wasn't going to chase you naked.

As you stood in the downstairs bathroom brushing your teeth with the toothbrush Dave kept there specifically for you, you had to smile. One of the best things about your relationship with Dave was that it was easy. There were no secrets and you both understood each other without even having to speak and even when you pissed each other off, it only lasted a hot minute. He was a safe place for you. If you hadn't been involved with Gerry when you met Dave, things might have been different between you and Dave.

The storm had passed and as you and Dave finished up your breakfast of French toast and sausage, the early bird was outside waiting for his meal. A meal ticket that was....and just then, the landline rang.

Dave sighed with an eye roll and wiped his mouth, then got up to answer it.

"Probably work wanting me to come in early since I'm due back today from my vacation. Hello? Dr. Conrad speaking."

"Ahh, Dr. Conrad. Just the person I have been trying to reach. Clearly you are home since you answered the phone and also there's your truck in the driveway. I guess you just didn't hear me knocking earlier."

Dave went straight to the living room window and peeled back the curtain.

"I was in the sho...I'm sorry, who is this?" he asked with furrowed brows and then caught sight of the forest green dodge charger parked in front of the neighbor's house with deeply tinted side windows.

"Pardon my manners doctor. I'm detective Luke Evans with the Salem Police Department. I have been trying to reach you for questioning in the matters of the recently deceased Elizabeth Webber and now, an injured, possibly attacked miss Megan March. Both women you know. May I come up?"

"It's 8 am??''

"Well you've been a hard man to locate so I figured I'd have a better shot at catching you bright and early. This won't take long."

"Give me a minute."

"I'll be right here waiting. Alright bye."

Dave hung up and Luke watched the front door like a hawk.

"Dave?? Who was that? Is someone here?" you asked in concern as you stood in the dining room watching him.

"Just as you said last night at the hospital. That the cops would be all over this."

"The police are here???"

"Just one. Your new favorite detective."

"Ohhhh hell no. Luke...is here??"

You whipped the curtain back open, but didn't see his bike. "Where??"

"Green charger."

Once you saw it, your anger towards him resurfaced from his prior visit at Lee's lake house and you bolted right out the door.

"Unnnnbelievable!" you erupted as you marched straight for him which caught Luke off guard , for he was just as stunned to see you as you were him.

He didn't even have a chance to get out of the car when there you were, dispensing your rage at him outside his window.

"You came all the way to Grandview?! What are you doing here??!!"

He rolled the window down with his hazel hues locked in yours. "Can I get out of the car to explain?"

You stepped back with a huff and a sarcastic sway of your arm in a gesture of agreement.

"By all means, please do detective dick."

Luke sighed as he stepped out. "Classy Jo. Do you want to tone it down a little bit?"

No, I do not. Not even a little bit and don't speak to me about class when you know nothing about it."

"Ok, I get it. You're still salty...."

"Salty?" you derisively laughed. "I'm furious! You do know interrogation rooms at the POLICE station are there for a reason?? Yet you insist on randomly showing up at people's homes like a feral fucking cat. All you had to do was call him and ask him to come in and he would have."

"I did call. Multiple times this morning before I came here, but I guess you and the good doctor here were.....sleeping?"

You wanted to wipe his smug smirk right off of his face. "Ohhhh, don't you even. Yes, we WERE sleeping and not that it's any of your business, if you must know, I slept in the guest room."

"Well thank you for the 411 but now I need some from David if you don't mind."

"Actually I DO mind. This is bullshit and..."

Dave appeared next to you. "Josie, it's ok. I have nothing to hide."

"I know you don't but this is not ok Dave!"

"Look Jo. The sooner the doc here answers my questions, the sooner I can get out of your hair unless you want to keep interfering with the investigation, then..."

"Then what Luke? You'll arrest me??"

He took a step forward and now stood towering over you, peering down with a cocky brow.

"Don't tempt me."

You stood your ground and stepped forward as well with your stomach merely inches from his as you glared up at him.

"Go ahead. I dare you."

Luke dropped his head and smiled, shaking his head in disbelief as he rubbed his eyes and heavily sighed.

"You do realize I am just doing my job right? Would you be giving Gerry such a hard time of he were the one here??"

"Yeah well I hate your job and yes, yes I would be the same way with Gerry but I would rather deal with him than you any day."

"Well he's not here. I am, so deal with it or I can begin reading you your rights. Your choice sweetheart."

"Fine." you sneered and then mumbled under your breath as you moved beside Dave. "God I can't stand him."

"Alright. David. First things first." Luke began as he pulled out his pen and little black book that Craig had called it. You chuckled inside when you also remembered what he called Luke. An audacious British fuck, for that he was.

"Where were you 2 nights ago on the 20th of March up to last night when you arrived at the hospital with the injured miss March?"

Dave's eyes flowed down to you with reluctance, for he knew you were going to flip when you heard his answer.

"I...was on Spoon island. I had actually been there for the past 6 days."

Your mouth dropped open. "You were at Wyndemere????!!! And you're just now telling me this??"

"He's actually telling me." Luke griped at you, then aimed his next question at Dave. "What's Wyndemere?"

Of course you answered for Dave as you stared at the nervous doctor and it was quite acerbic.

"Oh it's just Dracula's creepy castle on it's very own remote island on the outskirts of Salem, how fitting, and it has an abundance of secret tunnels probably filled with coffins and let us not forget the multiple parapets that people have either fallen from or been tossed off of over the years."

Dave became annoyed. "Ok, my father is not a vampire and that castle is just a mansion on an island with a cottage and even a horse stable. It was a nice getaway from life."

Now your eyes gaped to match your mouth. "Since when do you call Victor your father???"

"Since that's what he is Jo!"

"By DNA only!!! He's a murderous monster or did you forget what he..."

"That's enough Jo." Dave spat through his teeth with his eyes reminding you to keep your mouth shut.

"Yes, that's enough of your whinging." Luke protested. "David, what is Victor's full name and what is this about murder??"

"Victor Cassadine. You may have heard the surname before as it's quite notorious, just as the rumors are, like Josie was speaking of."

"And this man is your father as you stated? Will he vouge for you?"

"Yes. I am sure he will."

"Is there anyone else that can also attest to your whereabouts? And...at anytime during your stay, did you leave the island?"

"There's a ferry that goes to and from there at specific times, but I did not leave. You can question the ferryman. It's always the same guy except on rare occasions. He saw me and I do have my tickets for both their and back. I'll go get them."

"That was quite the detailed narrative there Josie. Did you get that from watching the vampire diaries? Or maybe from that book you were reading? The Cult of Dolos was it?"

"Oh shut up. Now that we have a minute alone. Why don't you tell me about Sam Colin???"

All of Luke's movements ceased as his eyes seemed hypnotized by that name.

"Wh..who?"

"Don't play dumb with me. Lee told me and now I want to hear it from you."

Luke was now trying to read you like a book as he shifted his weight to one leg and raised a brow.

"Lee told you huh? Told you what...exactly?"

"That you set him up somehow."

"Somehow? So Lee did NOT tell you." Luke stepped forward again, so close that you actually took a step back. "Don't toy with me Jo. I don't like games."

"I'm not toying with you. He told me Luke. All about how that name was one of Peter's aliases, but of course he did not know that at the time and something bad...really bad, happened because of it and I want to know what it was."

Luke's jaw clenched and grinded. "Did it ever occur to you that if he wanted you to know, he would tell you or...just maybe... he can't tell you?? Why can't you just leave well enough alone??"

"Because Lee isn't well!! He's changing because of whatever this fucking secret is. Do you even care about him at all??? Ever since you came back, it's triggered something inside of him. He physically attacked me from a deep sleep because he thought I was someone that was trying to hurt him!! I also know that Peter's brother, some Charles Rane who was a terrorist like their father Faison, was involved and that Lee set off some bomb that killed him. And he also talked about people being shot in front of him!"

"Well it would seem you have the answer to your question then. It makes sense yes? Lee is simply having some PTSD episodes."

"And it was something you caused to happen! It all makes sense as to why he has been so aggressive towards you. So what was it Luke?? What did you do to him? According to him, you and he were really close at one time and now all he wants to do is rip your head off after what you did to Landy. What did you do Luke????"

"Ok. You need to back your ass up and stay in your lane. This has nothing to do with you little girl. You wanna fuck with the bull, you gotta deal with the horns." he snarled in your face with flaring nostrils like that of said bull which was very similar to what he had done to you at Orlando's.

"This ain't my first rodeo with a steer, you know, a castrated male trying to compensate for what he lacks by playing tough guy?"

"You know, I will never understand what Lee ever saw in you. If anyone has changed him, it's you. I thought Liz was the cause of his downfall, but you..."he chuckled. "you clearly have her beat. Tell me Jo, does Lee know you're here? You really seem to like that doctor dick. Which one is bigger? Lee's, Dave's or Landy's?? Inquiring minds want to know."

Like a bull, you saw red and just snapped. A sharp sear of adrenaline mixed with anger rushed through you and you charged Luke, shoving him hard against his car.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM??!!!"

The next thing you knew, Dave's arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back.

"Josie, what the hell are you doing??!!"

Dazed and confused, Luke held his back against the car for a few seconds and then his lips planted together in a thin line as he became fed up. He abruptly pushed himself up, pulled out his handcuffs and grabbed your wrist,

"That's it. You have the right to remain silent." he began to recite as your eyes widened at the click of the first cuff.

"Whoa whoa. What are you doing??" Dave intervened.

Luke took you other wrist and continued, ignoring the concerned doctor as you and Luke's eyes were fixed upon each other.

Click.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?”

You said nothing as you glowered up at him.

"Come on man. Can't you give her a break?" Dave desperately asked.

"I am. I handcuffed her in the front." Luke gloated and opened the front door of his car. "Which is why you will sit where I can see you."

You refused to move as he placed his hand on your upper arm. " Gerry will take care of this. I'm not worried Dave."

"You assaulted a police officer. Although it's misdemeanor in Massachusetts, it carries anywhere form 90 days to 2 and a half years. Even Gerry can't make that go away for an entitled brat like you."

"We'll see about that...and on the ride back...don't speak to me and I won't speak to you ok?." you barked and got in the car.

"You promise?" Luke cheerfully riposted.

Luke buckled you in, roughly tugging the belt to tighten it and then brought his lips only inches from yours, his hot mouthwash breath tickling your lips as he whispered with a smug smirk.

"Comfy?"

He slammed the door and turned to Dave, taking the ferry tickets from him and then he got in the car and as he drove away, you frowned and looked at Dave as you mouthed 2 words to him.

"I'm sorry."

Lee awoke from his drug and alcohol induced slumber feeling worse than he had the night before and it wasn't from medicating himself. It was the lucid dreams that he couldn't escape from no matter what he put in his body to try and tame them, for there was no escape from now.

As he stood at the bay window in his high rise office, flashes of those dreams haunted him, only they weren't dreams. They were memories.

All he wanted to do was pick up the phone and call you and tell you everything, but he could barely weather the visions, let alone speak of them. How was he supposed to tell you that the cause of his mother's death and his father's illness were all a lie?

Lee reached down into his pocket and pulled out a silver pocket locket that he belonged to his father. As he opened it, he stared down at the photo he had placed inside of his young parents and him as a baby.

With tears of guilt growing in his sapphire eyes, he spoke to it.

"I wasn't the good son you told me I was dad. If you could have remembered, you would have never said it. You've been gone a month today, but I guess you had already been gone years before that. I'm sure you know everything now, wherever you are and I hope you can forgive me."

Lee snapped the locket shut and dried his tired eyes, then headed home to shower and later go to visit his mom and dad's graves. Maybe even go to church that he had been neglecting and ask God for forgiveness as well. Even as upset as you were with him, he prayed you would come still come for the visit, for he needed you now more than ever.

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