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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 23 days ago

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On Rising Swells

Part Seven of The Pirate AU. As always, 18+ for this series. No smut in this one, but they do take off their clothes for plot(?) ~4.4k words

You expect more to change, after finding out that your husband has strange, unexplainable magic running through his bones, after finding out that he died.

But nothing does, not really. Kori brings your dinner to Jason's quarters, you fall asleep alone, and when you find the courage to make your way above deck in the morning, there isn't a hint of blood on the wooden planks.

Jason keeps his distance, at least his version of distance. He lingers just out of your space, pretends to occupy himself with coiling lines and inspecting the horizon.

The crew treats you as if you've never left, as if an entire ship of soldiers weren't slaughtered in your name. It's almost overbearing, but Rose's lessons with your dagger and Roy's endless, friendly jokes and easy-going conversations lull you into a routine.

The Outlaws' ship is by no means small, but with only so many places to go and Jason's inability to be unaware of where you are, you're not surprised that within a few days he finds his way back into your bed as the moon rises. You should be more upset when he lifts the covers carefully, and oh so slowly, wraps his arms around your middle to pull you back against his chest.

But you can't find it in yourself to be mad, not really. His affliction, as otherworldly as it seems, kept him alive. And for as hurt as you want to be over being on the outside of another secret, what has its clutches on your heart is how much you missed him.

You missed his warmth when you were in Central City. His kisses across your skin. His sweet words and adoration and eyes that shine at you like you hold all the secrets of the world between your fingers.

You missed your husband, so if you trace his scars after his breathing evens out in the night and thank whatever higher power has healed his wounds time and time again, it is no one's business but your own.

The days pass to weeks as you settle into place. You relearn which knot is less likely to slip when you work high on the mast, you find your sea legs during a particularly nasty storm that cracks lightning across the ominous clouds.

You find out exactly how many rounds of ale, wine, and rum you can handle as Jason and his crew spins and sings tales of their adventures.

Their stories no longer seem so tall now that you've seen evidence of magic with your own eyes. The words they share about glowing stones, demigods with impossible strength, and sea monsters no longer ring as falsehoods or myth.

You can't help but be fascinated by Donna's whispered memories of her childhood, of the island made entirely of woman warriors that sound like they come from legend. You're equally enthralled by Roy's stories of Atlanteans and the sorcerers he's met who can command water and sea creatures with just their minds.

But skills and stories aren't the only things you've taken to committing to memory. It's your husband, Jason, who takes up most of your thoughts and time.

The sound of his laugh rings in your ears long since it's faded from the air. The feel of his hand steady on your back lingers even after he moves away. The smell of the sea and leather and something so uniquely him fills your bedsheets even after he's slipped from your side to navigate his ship through choppy waters.

You study him, when he's occupied with shouting orders to his crew, when his back is to you and all you can see is the foreboding red of his hat and coat that sends even the bravest of sailors to a state of panic.

He feels like a mystery sometimes, with scars even he fails to remember where or how he got.

But his breath still shallows the same when you press a kiss to his shoulder. His eyes still darken and focus completely on you in the moments before he drives you into seeing stars. He still kisses you like you're everything he's ever really wanted.

Weeks at sea with him have proven one thing over and over again, Jason Todd is still your husband, and that means he still feels like home, no matter how your doubts fester and curl in the pit of your stomach.

And you've found that you like being at sea, the adventure it brings. You like the crew and the friendship they've offered you. You, though you would never admit it out loud, like Jason. You like that he treats you the same as when you had first gotten married.

You like when he calls you treasure, when he says it as if you're truly the most precious thing in his possession.

You know all this, but you can't seem to stop yourself from darting closer and closer to the ship's railing, eyes fixed on the dark, churning water below.

All of this is true, and all of this you know. Even if it isn't perfect, you're the happiest you've been in years.

The world is at your fingertips, a pirate lord is at your beck and call, and the ships maps have been plotted for an island with sandy beaches and a secret lagoon that Jason swears has the most beautiful waterfall you'll ever see, and he can't wait to see you try jumping from its cliffs.

There's yelling behind you, shouts of your name and pleads, and your brain vaguely catches the word 'sirens'. In the back of your mind, you know that means something, but all you can really focus on is the mesmerizing song filling your every sense.

"Come closer," it– they– the water tells you. The voice is a symphony of everything you've ever wanted, all your innermost desires and longings in the cadence of Jason's.

A part of you knows that doesn't make sense. Jason went below deck to fetch you a heavier coat to stave off the chill of the impending storm, the wind that whips and bites at your face. But logic doesn't rule your mind at the moment.

"I can give you what you want," the ocean sings, and you listen. You don't feel the desperate hands grabbing at the back of your clothes as you launch yourself over the railing, all you notice is that there's suddenly no surface beneath your feet and that the voice– voices in the water are pitching with glee.

The fall is quick. A rush of air against your skin, and then you're freezing. It's enough to shake you from your trance for a moment, for you to realize how much danger you're in, for you to know that no matter how sweet Jason's voice is, it's not really him.

You have just enough time to be grateful you're not wearing the heavy layers of your old dresses, before the symphony of melodies starts again, surrounding you and drawing you back under their spell.

The waves crash over your head, cold fingers brush over your ankles, threatening to pull you down beneath the sea, but you aren't afraid. The song is beautiful, it whispers soothing promises of a pretty garden filled with roses and flowers you've never even dreamed of before.

He– they– sing about the life you were going to have, the life you did have. It weaves ballads of sunrise and sunsets while you lay on silk sheets and you swear you can see all that it's vowing to give you just below the surface of the water.

So you reach for it, draw in a deep breath and swim down and even as your lungs burn and vision blurs, you kick and claw and beg for the chance to just brush your fingers over the tune that's hypnotized you so completely.

The human-like shapes that dart around you aren't important, the bell-like laughs and dark dots that start to take over your vision don't mean a thing.

The voices lament poetry of promises of your future, even as your world starts to go black, "A family," they sing, painting you a picture of Roy, of Artemis, of Kori– the entire crew grinning and reaching for you, "You could be so happy with us."

A hand caresses your face, and the water itself seems to smile at you, beckoning you closer. You think you're about to reach it, you just need a little more, just one more second and everything you've dreamed of since the night you first lost your husband will be yours.

But it doesn't come. What comes instead is an arm around your waist, hauling your head back above the waves. You think you scream, or maybe the sea wails at the loss of you. You kick your feet, shove at the body dragging you through the water and away from the voice.

"Treasure," the voice– no– Jason snaps at you, "It's me, it's me. Stop fighting."

You sag for a moment, confused and exhausted. The song still has a hold on your mind, still has you wanting to dive back below the waves.You were so close, and if he could just let go of you, you could sink back down to where all your desires are waiting for you.

You suck in a breath, soothing your aching lungs as you try to find the energy to fight him. But something stops you.

Just pass his shoulder, a face bares its teeth at you. It's beautiful, with eyes reminiscent of crystal and diamond, but your every instinct screams danger. The thing– the siren lunges at you, and you bury your face in your husband's shoulder for what seems to be the last time as you wait for it to drag you below the waves.

But the siren never touches you. You're hauled into the air instead, Jason's harsh curses filling your ears, as he grapples with keeping one hand on you, and one on the rope tugging you both to safety. You feel nauseous as you scramble to grab onto Jason, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt to try and steady yourself.

Rough hands grab you once you near the railing, pulling you on deck as you cough water out of your lungs. The hypnotizing melody still hums in your ears, though it grows weaker, you still have the urge to follow it, but Jason's warmth against your side keeps you grounded, even as the ship rocks precariously in the rising waves.

Your throat burns as you sink to the ground. You didn't realize how much salt water you swallowed. Boots pound on the planks around you, gun shots occasionally sounding as the crew shouts at each other, but Jason doesn't move his body from yours. You don't look at him, can't.

You're almost embarrassed, ashamed to have been so desperate for a past you can't go back to that you fell for the siren's cursed song. You knew it wasn't him, that the Jason you married doesn't exist anymore, you just didn't realize how much of a hold that memory still had on you.

You feel even colder now that you're out of the water. You've lost one of your shoes to the sea, and your clothes stick uncomfortably to your body.

Jason says something. You can feel the vibrations of his voice against you, but you don't register the words. He presses a kiss to your temple. It makes your throat tighten. You almost died and, in turn, almost got him killed.

He stands, helping you up on your shaky legs before carefully passing you to Kori. He says something again as you slump against her, you catch the word 'tea' and 'just need a moment', before his presence is gone from your side.

You force your gaze to his back as he leaves. He's soaked, hair matted and dripping. There's claw marks torn into the back of his shirt, down his pants leg, but no sign of blood or injury. The sight makes you all the more nauseous and ashamed.

Kori turns you away from him and guides you below deck, towards the galley. She only stops to let Bizzaro wrap your shivering frame in a heavy blanket. She helps you sit, before flitting around the kitchen, and neither of you speak until she's pushed a hot mug into your hands.

You fidget, reeling, and eyes downcast. Your mind clears more, now that you're out of the air that seemed to vibrate with magic. You remember how you wanted to watch the storm clouds roll in over the horizon. How a soft lullaby started to fill the air, just after Jason left you to go below deck, and how the crew laughed over song.

'Pointless,' Roy had said, grinning and fearless, 'Siren magic can't touch us.' But it had certainly affected you.

"Why didn't anyone else jump," you ask quietly, almost uneasy to hear the answer. You wait for Kori to tell you that you're weak. That you were never meant to be among a crew of ruthless, but none the less talented pirates.

She says none of those things, just sits herself at your side, uncaring that you're slowly creating a puddle of sea water on the bench. "Oh, that would be Garth's spell."

You run a quick mental check, and, no, there's definitely no Garth on this ship. You huff, frustrated at yourself and your own lack of information, "Who's Garth."

She hums, absently mindedly, reaching out to push at your mug, encouraging you to drink, "He is known as Tempest, he sails with The Titans."

She waits for you to drink before continuing, "They owed us a favor, so he cast a spell on us that nulls siren's music. It's a boring story compared to what I usually tell you, no?"

"The Titans," you mumble, taking another sip of the tea. The Titans are familiar enough to you, a group of treasure hunting adventurers that've occasionally taken out some rather dangerous pirates. You think you recall them coming to Gotham once or twice, but you don't think you've ever seen their infamous captain Nightwing, "Why did they owe you?"

Kori pats your knee, eyes going a little sad, "There was… They had an issue with a mercenary. One we took care of. I suppose we forgot the spell's protection didn't extend to you. I'm sorry we didn't think of it and– I'm glad you're safe."

You open your mouth to wave off her apology with your own and explain that you should be thanking her for how much she's done for you, how at home and welcomed she's made you feel with her stories. (and maybe to pry into what mercenary could cause issues for a group like The Titans, who apparently have spellcasters within their crew)

But your words die in your throat as she continues to talk, plucking your empty mug from your hand to place it down, "But, you know, Jason never needed a spell. Even before, siren songs never affected him. He always said it was because he knew you couldn't be out here, that what they were promising wasn't real."

She smiles at you, then, warm and soft and fond, "It's easy to see why he loves you so much."

You think she's trying to make you feel better, and it almost works. You crave stories of your husband from the times you were without him, and it makes your heart ache to know how much he's really, truly loved you even after so much time apart.

But it serves just as much to make you guilty. Maybe you don't love him as much, or as strongly, if you were entranced by the spell. Maybe you're fighting a losing battle, by staying with him and his ship.

Your thoughts are cut short as the galley's doors are thrown open, and Jason, who you barely have time to note is still dripping with salt water, strides over to where you and Kori are sitting.

His eyes dart over you as he kneels at your feet, lifting your hands to rub some semblance of warmth back into your fingertips. "Does anything hurt," he asks gently, fretting as familiar worry lines crease his brow.

He raises your hands to his lips to blow warm air over your skin when you shake your head, his gaze not reassured of your truthfulness. You think he'd strip you bare right there on the table if not for Kori's easy, knowing smile over his mother henning.

She stands, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then one to Jason's, "Go dry off in your cabin, lovers."

Jason spares her a reluctant glance before focusing back on you, "But the storm–"

"Is something we can handle, Captain. Now go on, before they catch a cold," Kori nods to you on her way out the door, voice all light and teasing as she disappears down the hall. It's only then you start to notice that you've been shivering, the blanket nearly as wet as you are.

"Dry clothes first," Jason murmurs, eyeing your one boot. He scoops you up without warning, one arm under your knees and one across your back, to carry you through the door and towards his quarters. You hardly have the energy to protest, but you are aware enough to notice that his skin is warm to the touch.

"How are you not cold," you grumble, fidgeting with the threads of the blanket to occupy yourself. He seems to relax at the sound of your voice, but you can't quite pinpoint why.

He hums as he pushes open the door to his room, walking over to the bed to slowly sit you on the edge. He kneels down, removing your lone boot and making a face as you both watch the water that pours out of it. Jason pulls the blanket from your shoulders, tossing aside before answering, "I rarely get cold now."

He doesn't elaborate, and you want to pry, you do, but his fingers dip under your shirt, callused and hot against your skin. It's distracting in the nicest way.

He removes each layer of soaked fabric with a reverence that makes you want to melt in relief and cry in distress all at once. He peels the stockings from your thighs, a frown crosses his face at the faint scratches across your ankle. "You didn't mention these," he says, eyes snapping up to yours.

"I didn't feel them," you admit, honest. You don't remember losing your boot, didn't feel the claws that tried to drag you down. You just remember how much you wanted to swim deeper, follow the haunting melody that spun around you beneath the waves.

His gaze never leaves you, as he presses a loving kiss to your skin, soothing the sting of the marks, "I'll make it up to you."

That pulls you from your lulled state, and you knit your eyebrows as he begins to kiss his way up your calf, murmuring apologies, "It shouldn't have happened, treasure. Not to you."

"You're being ridiculous," You breathe out, reaching for the linens to cover your bare skin, "It was no one's fault but my own, and I'm fine, you pulled me out of the water."

His hands travel up your legs to rest on your thighs, not hiding his concern over the way you try to hide yourself from him, "My love, being affected by magic is not a burden for you to bear. Everything that happens on this ship is my responsibility. And that goes double for the one that's wearing my ring."

You lose your words at his reaction, his sentiments, unsure of what to do. Jason sighs heavily, wrapping his arms around your middle to draw you close, so that he can bury his face in your chest and listen to the beat of your heart.

You instinctively reach up to card your fingers through his wet hair. It's silent for a moment, and then he exhales shakily, "I thought you had– I was afraid, treasure, when you weren't where I had left you. I couldn't– all I saw were those things trying to lure you further from the ship."

You squeeze your eyes shut at his words. You knew, of course, that Jason was the reason you were alive, safe on board his ship. You knew he was the reason you didn't drown, left to be a meal for the mythical sirens. You knew that you both could have died.

But it's only now that you're settled, out of harm's way and on his bed that it really registers that he'd jumped into the stormy tides after you.

You wonder if he hesitated. You wonder if he doubted, for even a moment, that you were worth the trouble. You know it's unfair, and you can't find the words to ask, so you open your eyes to look down at him. "You're still soaked," you say instead, pointing out the obvious and letting your hand fall from his hair.

He laughs a little, pressing a kiss over your heart, before standing to strip out of his own sea-matted clothes. Jason doesn't bother dressing as he guides both of you towards the center of the bed. You can tell he has half a mind to just lay on top of you, to keep you shielded on the off-chance there's magic still controlling your mind.

You're grateful that he doesn't. He tangles his legs with yours instead, as you lay on your side, and he presses his forehead to yours, eyes blown wide, but so intently focused.

"I can't lose you again," he tells you, one hand pressed firmly against the small of your back, and the other curled around the nape of your neck, holding you steady.

"I don't have the strength for it, treasure," he whispers, voice lowering as he searches your eyes for something, though you can't begin to guess for what. His words are familiar, heavy, and you find yourself wanting to say the right thing.

"I have nowhere to go," you try, hoping your words are what he's looking for, "and I want to see that island you promised me. Santa Prisca, right? With the best rum of all the isles?"

You think you got it wrong, that he might be disappointed, when his arm leaves your waist so he can cup your face, "Darling, you know you can rely on me for anything. Whatever you saw down there, whatever they promised you, I'd find a way to give it to you. You know that, right?"

"I know," you say softly, almost overwhelmed by the sureness of his voice, the firmness of his gaze. Flashes of the life they showed you rear their head in your mind's eye. The garden. The roses. The sunrise on your skin. A family. Him as he was. The past and a future that seemed so secure ripped away.

"And if, treasure– if this isn't enough–"

You surge forward to kiss him, silencing his words. The ache in his voice, the anxieties in his eyes, every part of you wants to quell them. What the sirens showed you is unreachable, and for as broken and confusing as things are now, Jason Todd is your husband. Your vows, your love– none of that has changed even if both of you have.

You only pull away when the tension starts to fade from his body, "This is enough. What they showed me doesn't mean anything. It wasn't real."

He studies you for a moment, thumb brushing over your cheek, "What did you see, love? What called you away from me so desperately?"

"I don't remember," you answer quickly, maybe a little too quickly to be believable. But Jason doesn't press, only wraps you up more securely in his arms, warding off the chill of the ocean that lingers in your bones.

"The sea should calm tomorrow," he murmurs, pressing his face to the top of your head, "With the wind on our side we'll be shore side in a few days and you can try all the rum you'd ever want to, treasure."

It's an olive branch, you think, a way to let you keep your words buried in your throat. Jason would let you drift to sleep, pretend that none of this happened, and he didn't dive headfirst in danger for you, and you didn't lie about why you did. It feels wrong, cruel even, to not attempt to trust in him.

"There was a garden," you whisper like it's a grand secret, "filled with flowers I've never seen before. Some that I didn't even know existed." You know it's not enough, that there's no way he'd believe you'd throw yourself over the side of the ship for just the promise of some pretty petals.

But he smiles into your hair and starts to trace patterns across your back, "Flowers, huh, treasure? I can do that."

"I saw the crew," you breathe out, tucking your face against him to hide whatever weakness you're sure is painting your face.

"Aye," he prompts, dragging his hand tenderly over your spine, "Did you?"

"You were there, too," You say, speaking before you can second guess yourself, voice going even more hushed as the air seems to go still at your admission.

His fingers still on your skin before continuing their absentminded path, "Is that so?"

You nod against his chest, you almost feel lighter, freer, at peeling away some of the armor around your heart.

Jason nuzzles at the top of your head, and starts to press kisses down to your ear, "I am here. With you. That's not going to change." He pulls the blankets higher over your body as you melt against him, all your worries, wrongs, and doubts, quiet and locked away in the back of your mind.

His warmth, his touch, the steady rocking of the ship, and promises of new sights to see on calmer waters is enough to let you succumb to your exhaustion.

But even as you drift off, you can't quite escape from the memory of the siren's song in your ears. A family, they'd sung, an idea you'd never really thought of before, at least not past Jason. But they had sung it to you, pulled it, supposedly, from the deepest parts of your heart.

It nags at you, from the corner of your mind as sleep wins out, even with the steady sounds of Jason's breathing and his fingers soothing over your skin. And it almost feels like, maybe, they knew something you didn't.

#jason todd x reader #pirate!au #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

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jasmineoolongtea · 5 months ago

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jason todd's skin isn't untouched in the slightest, far from it.

almost every crook and cranny of his sculpted form has been marked or marred by some sort of scar or injury he's managed to sustain over his time as a vilgilante to the point where there's barely anywhere on his body that's seemingly safe from this apparent curse.

is it bad to say that he's lost count of them over the years? a bruise here, a large jagged scar there; sure, jason used to spend time fixating on them like some strange obsession he couldn't shake off when a new one appeared fresh on the canvas of his skin but by now, all they would get was a slight grimace whenever he caught a glimpse of them in the mirror as his lips draw into a tight line before quickly throwing some article of clothing over his head to cover it.

unfortunately for him (though seemingly par for the course for his life trajectory), many of them are the result of some less-than-pleasant experiences and encounters that and in true jason fashion, he has taken it upon himself to bear this metaphorical cross even if it weighs heavy on him and his every waking moment.

though he would never admit this out loud, he can't help but see each line of scar tissue or faded bruise as another reminder of his own mistakes, failures and inadiquacies and at times, they sting more than what caused the wound in the first place.

however, he's found a type of mark that doesn't hurt as much (quite the opposite in fact) and those are ones caused by you. specifically, the lipstick marks you leave in your wake.

the way you trail and place these kisses across his body is like you're trying you're trying to commit every plane and edge of his chiseled figure to memory and who is he to stop you in your quest. whenever you arrive at one of his many scars on your journey, you always take extra care to linger on them for a second longer than the others and for a fleeting moment, he lets himself forget the backstory attached to them and instead focus on the sensation of you against him.

you treat him like he's your own personal canvas with how you meticulosly choose to mark him such as clustering them in certain places like on his shoulder blade or placing them in a line leading down his torso and ending just below the band of his underwear.

your lipstick is smudged so perfectly around your mouth and when you pull away to go to wipe it off, he has to fight the urge to audibly let out a sigh of disappointment at the sudden lost of contact and how good you look when there's evidence of his presence on you.

although the public will never be privy to this artwork, jason thinks that it just might be one of the greatest masterpieces he's ever had the pleasure of seeing or experiencing.

everytime he catches a brief sight of the faded imprint of your cherry red lips dotted against his bare skin in the mirror, there's a ghost of smile that graces his features as he makes a mental note to ask you to top them up when he deems them too faded for his liking.

he can't decide what he likes better; the feeling of your soft lips against the harsh lines of his muscles or the look of pure satisfaction you get when you lean back to admire your work. jason's never been one for photography but god he wishes that he had a camera just so he could take a photo of these moments to immortalise them for the rest of eternity.

sometimes you like to joke that he's the reason that you go through your lipsticks so fast and he'll offer you a somewhat bashful grin in response although you know that there isn't an ounce of guilt in his bones for this. silently, he swears to buy you a lifetime of lipstick if it means that your lips keep coming back to him.

#dividers by cafekitsune #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes #god i love jason todd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd drabble #jason todd headcanon #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood drabble #red hood headcanon #red hood fic

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littlelambscandyland · 8 months ago

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Baby Flower

Yandere Platonic Cg!Batfam x Little!Fem!Reader

"Bubba tree!" The girl shouts.

Arms crossed over pouting in pale pink. Her legs hung loosely around the man's broad waist.

"No, princess, you know you can't go out there…" He replies softly.

Guilt was evident on his face. Wanting to take his little sister outside. Rules were rules. Jason knew if he were to disregard Bruce's orders when it came to her safety he'd have hell to pay. Jason also knew that it wasn't safe even walking her through the manors yard. They were keeping her safe even if it made her angry.

Speaking of which, she was trying to wring herself out of his grip. Crying loudly and writhing in his hold. Pleas falling as fast as the thick tears. Streaks striking against pink cheeks.

Jason sighs heavily. The guilt eating at his will. He holds her a bit tighter. "I know" falling out of his mouth as quick as her cries.

"Bubba! Bubba!" She calls angrily.

His hands taking over her back. His red shirt is darkened with her tears. Her smaller hands pull on the shirt a desperate struggle to get what she wants.

"C'mon doll… It's not that bad. I know you want to go outside but it's not safe." He tells her sadly.

Jason walks away from the window. The view clearly proved too much for the little. Her cries still sounded through the decorated halls. Her strength proves nothing compared to his.

"Aww, what happen to our baby?" Dick coos out the question.

Dick comes quickly across the living area. His hands out to take her from a seemingly very anxious Jason.

"No no no!" She shouts.

Her hands wring into the taller man's shirt. She rocks angrily in his arms. Jason sighs in defeat, slouching slightly with the toll of guilt. Dick looks a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"What happened?" He asks, irritated.

"She wants to go outside." A new voice spoke.

Dick turns as Tim makes his way into the room. A bat plushie tucked under his arm, a pacifier in hand, and a tablet in his other. The pacifier has straps to keep it on for when she "acts up".

"Saw them on the cameras." Tim spoke, holding up the tablet.

"I don't think she's giving up this time…" Jason mentions.

"That's why Alfred already put her medicine on it." Tim responds pointedly.

"Our poor baby bat." Dick pouts.

She tries to turn her head off when Tim brings the pacifier to her lips, but Jason holds her face to it. She cries and screams as they lock the straps over her head.

Her arms swing, but do little damage. Her face is pink and wet. None of the three men seemed happy with the current situation. They all knew that she would cling on to any of the others as soon as she'd see them. Her pettiness shining through even when small.

Their knowledge is proven when Cass and Duke walk into the room. The small girl immediately whines out and reaches out for the two. Trying with all her might, which was slowly diminishing with the medicine.

Cass perks up instantly, a smile breaking gracefully across her face. She comes over and easily steals the girl from Jason's arms. The tiny girl latches onto her. Burying her wet face into her black shirt.

"What happened sweetheart?" Duke asks softly.

His hand lands softly on her back, rubbing soothing circles. Had the three painted a perfect picture, even with the smaller girl's tears. Of course none of them took that for granted as Dick had already pulled out his camera and taken a picture of the three.

Tim explained the girl's breakdown, or as he explained her "tantrum. Duke coos out at her. Reaching out to hold her hand as she reaches out to him.

"Your big siblings are just so mean aren't we?" Duke smiles pitifully at her.

Cass giggles slightly and nods her head. Both trying to make the situation seem less important to your small mind. She nods with them, but she means it in a more serious sense. Her tears have stopped falling, however her pout remains firm.

"What, is there a party in the living room or something? Were we not invited?" Steph jokes as she walks into the room.

"Clearly, Brown, pup is upset." Damien says irritation leaking from his voice.

"Chill out Damien. None of us did anything, she just wanted to go outside." Jason says equally annoyed.

Damien narrows his eyes. Steph coos just like everyone before her had. The smaller girl was rather calm now despite her pout. The medicine took its toll on her and calmed her down almost to the point of making her fall asleep.

Everyone decided to chill in the room for the time being, just in case she got ornery. Jason grabbed a book, Tim worked on his tablet, Duke and Dick chose to play a movie, and Steph and Cass talked and held you softly.

An hour passed and Damien seemed to have reappeared. He has a small bag in his arms, and he walks with determination flashing in his eyes. Dick greets him and Tim asks what he's doing. For once, Damien ignore both men and walks up to the girl.

Her eyes light and incredible exhaustion. It was obvious despite how little she was she was still aware of the danger she was in. They'd kidnapped her so long ago and even when she regresses she seems to hold onto some of her grown-up fears.

They all hold hopes that one day their little sister will let go of her old life and be the precious love they know she passed down. She still let them be there when she was little just not when she wasn't it broke their hearts every time.

It was obvious she was trying to fight her regression. She was slowly slipping out despite their efforts. She was also trying to stay awake.

Damien took notice of the stress in the room despite the faux calming atmosphere. He motions for Cass to scoot over and she obeys easily. He took his place right next to her.

"You're still upset about not being able to go outside." Damien says factually.

She cuddled with her bat with Steph on her other side. Damien brings the bag closer to his feet.

"These perhaps won't do much to make you less angry, however I'm certain these are what you wanted to see." He mentions searching through the bag.

The first thing he pulls out of the bag is a branch of hydrangeas opulent blooms. Purple and blue petals immediately catch the girl's eye. Whispering out a quiet awe at the flower. She reaches out with one hand while keeping her bat plush snuggled close in her other. Her fingers gently skim the petals and her eyes glow with fascination.

“Would you like to hold it, pup?” Damien asks her sweetly. She nods her head vigorously. Excitement overtakes her features. She sits up more and takes the flowers with care. Her smile widens, and she brings them close to her face to smell them.

“Did you seriously bring flowers from the garden?” Tim asks.

“Clearly none of you were going to do anything, Drake.” Damien answered curtly.

“Kinda glad he did,” Jason said. “She already seems a lot happier now.”

“Yeah, and just look at how cute she is with them!” Steph says brightly.

“I am a little worried…” Dick pushes out. “What if she’s allergic?”

“We have plenty of medicine for that. Think of how happy she is and how many pictures we can get.” Duke says pointing towards the smiling girl.

Damien turns his attention back to the girl and holds out more flowers this time light-pink roses. He’d deliberately taken off the stems leaving just the flower heads for the girl to hold. She reacts positively, grabbing at them quickly so she could feel the soft petals.

Despite his plan to give her them one at a time so she doesn’t get overwhelmed, she noticed his bag and was actively trying to steal it away. The room was filled with giggles and smiles as Damien slightly raised the bag and poured flowers on the girls lap. Her face lit up and she bounced slightly in joy as white rosebuds, baby's breath and love in a mist all flowed swiftly in her lap.

She squealed in joy. Picking up every flower and messing with it. Duke was right as they’d gotten quite a few pictures of her playing with the flowers. Even more photos were taken when after playing in the plants she allowed herself to relax enough to fall asleep, surrounded by the blossoms.

As much as they wished to take her outside, the family knew it was their job to protect her. Whether that need to protect grew into obsession and paranoia, well they would never say, but they wouldn’t let a single thing hurt her. No matter what they had to do.

~~~Notes (Flower Meanings)~~~

Love in a Mist symbolizes being perplexed by someone and openness to love

Light-Pink Roses symbolize platonic love

Hydrangeas Opulent Blooms symbolize familial love

White Rosebuds symbolize sibling love more particularly sisterly love

Baby's Breath symbolize everlasting familial/brotherly love

#age regression #age regressor #little space #yandere agere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfamily #platonic yandere batfam x reader #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #yandere Batfam x reader #platonic Batfam x reader

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vampireimiko · 4 months ago

Note

I saw that you were taking requests and was wondering if you could write a titans fic where reader is dick’s girlfriend and she’s like a mom to literally everyone (rachel,tim,gar,jason etc) and dick kinda finds that hot/cute

Mom-Like

warnings, none!

note, couldn't come up with a way to write tim into this since he wasn't in earlier seasons !!

Everyone loved you; you were more than just Dick’s girlfriend—you were the heart of the team. Whenever chaos threatened to take over the Tower, your calm presence would set everything right. You knew just how to handle Gar’s wild energy, Rachel’s quiet moods. Even Jason, with his tough exterior and sharp tongue, softened around you.

Dick often joked about how he was sure the team liked you more than him. But he wouldn't mind if that was true, after all, you were like a mother to them.

You were the one they turned to when things got tough, the one they trusted with their fears and secrets. There was a time where Gar slipped up and called you mom, Rachel and Jason clown him for it time to time.

The room had fallen into a stunned silence before bursting into laughter. Gar’s face had pure embarrassment on it, and he had tried to stammer out an apology, but you just laughed, ruffling his hair.

"Well, you do have that mom energy," Jason had snickered, earning a glare from Gar.

"Yeah, I mean, she does make sure you eat your veggies," Rachel added with a sly smile, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "And nags you to clean up after yourself."

"Hey!" Gar protested, with playfulness still evident in his words.

The teasing hadn’t stopped there. Whenever Gar would forget to pick up his socks or leave dishes in the sink, Jason and Rachel would remind him, "What would Mom think?" They’d snicker as Gar rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, but he never seemed to mind.

In fact, it made him smile. It made all of them smile. Because, deep down, they knew it was true. You were more than just a teammate or a friend. You were family.

Dick loved seeing you interact with the team, you had this natural charm to you, something that made everyone feel safe around you. It was something he deeply admired about you and it made him fall in love with you more and more each day.

And in quiet moments, when it was just the two of you, Dick would pull you close, his voice soft and full of love. "You know," he’d whisper, brushing a strand of hair from your face, "they're not the only ones who think of you as family." His eyes would meet yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "I don’t know what we’d do without you."

You playfully rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face was tender as you pulled him into a sweet kiss. "I love you," you said softly, your lips brushing against his as you pulled away.

A mischievous glint appeared in Dick's eyes, his lips curling into a teasing smile. "Y'know," he began, his tone light but his gaze serious, "I wouldn't mind us having our own kid or kids in the future." He teased.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, a thousand thoughts racing through your mind. Then, you smiled, leaning into him, your hand resting on his chest. "You think we’d make good parents?" you asked, your voice a soft whisper.

Dick’s smile widened, his fingers intertwining with yours. "With you? I know we would," he said confidently. "Besides, you’ve already got plenty of practice with this bunch."

You laughed, the sound light and full of joy. "Well, if they’re anything like Gar, we’re in for a wild ride."

Dick chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

additional note ! i didn't realize how much i missed writing for dick bro 🤑🤞🏾

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dc x reader #titans x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #dick grayson x you #x black reader #black!reader #black reader #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader

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thatwritterbeach · 4 months ago

Text

One messed up bat .3

Dc masterlist

Batfam x reader x Jason Todd eventually

Summary: the batfam's approach to Y/n self harming. She makes a run for it, doens't get far of course

Warnings: self harm, self hate, innuendos, 18+ talk, Jason making passes at Y/n

A/n: I do not own dc wah

"I'll be out in a second." At least she'd cleaned up quick. Her eyes were bloodshot from puking but that was easy to pass off for just tears, she's already brushed her teeth and the bathroom was free of evidence. With a deep breath she opened the door to Jason leaning against the frame.

"I punched him for ya, Dick wouldn't let me get in more than one but I'll try again later," he tried to joke but she knew from the blood on his knuckles it was true.

"You didn't have to, I'm sorry I put a back slide in your healing-"

"You didn't do shit, pretty, it was all him, sure we'd been slowly makin' amends but I don't need him. I need you happy and safe, and he can't do either."

"I'm fine, or I'll be fine, or whatever it is you wanna hear, thank you for sticking up for me-"

"I can't let ya hurt yourself, sweets. Dick and I have decided on a plan," he said grabbing one of her hands to pull her over to her bed. She sat on the edge ready to bolt if she needed.

"You two making plans is never a good sign..."

"We're gonna move in here-"

"Oh hell no, we'll all kill each other!"

"We'll manage, for you. We'll take out old rooms, I promise not to smother Bruce with a pillow in his sleep and we can take turns sitting with you-"

"I'm not a child-" He stopped her with a pointed look, his eyes dropping just for a second to her chest.

"I know that-"

"Don't look at my boobs when you say that you weirdo."

"Stop interrupting. When should I look at your boobs then," he said then cringed at himself.

"Uh, um, I don't know? Not -I mean, this isn't a porno bro, so unless you wanna help me get unstuck from the dryer-"

"Ha, you saw that one too," he cut her off with a panicked laugh. His hand working through his hair.

"Just the memes, I don't watch-you know what never mind. Don't look at my tits-"

"Why is he looking at your...um," Dick accused in that 'I'm her older brother I will kill you with a spoon voice'.

"Can we just back to my self harm," she begged burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

"Yes please," Jason said with relief. Dick was glaring at him, then used a finger to slash across his throat in the universal I'll kill you gesture.

"Anyway, Tim is laying out the ground rules for Bruce. Which is he's not allowed to be in any room alone with you, he doesn't get any shifts as your emotional support buddy-"

"Babysitter."

"-and he's grounded from the cave until we track down the joker and cut him into tiny pieces," Dick continued like she said nothing.

"Damian agreed to drug him if we had to, to avoid the no kill rule," Jason clarified.

"You guys are the best, none-legal, half-step-adopted-but-not-really-sibling-friends a girl could ask for. But you don't need to hunt for him, I know just where he is. I was gonna deliver his head to Jason for his birthday."

"You were gonna give me head-shit I mean a head for my birthday," Jason stuttered. The others blinked at him then Dick smacked him upside the head and Y/n started laughing.

"What is it with you? Do you need to get laid that badly? I'm nothing to look at you dork," she said with disturbing ease, shaking her head like she was scolding a puppy.

"Don't say that," Dick chided sitting on the bed and pulling her sideways into his lap. She flopped over onto him awkwardly with her arms pinned to her sides by him so she couldn't wiggle free.

"I think you're gorgeous, sweets." She snorted in disbelief.

"Yeah, right my family says I'm not ugly and I'm just supposed to take their word for it, nice try. The only person in this house that doesn't lie is Damian."

"I'd prove it to you if buzz kill wasn't here."

"Dude!"

"Oh my God, enough with the sex talk! Tim might hear-"

"Hear what?"

"Ok, seriously does the robin training include popping up at bad times did I miss that lesson?"

"Why are you just now getting the sex talk," Tim asked with a shit eating grin, little fucker knew something. She narrowed her eyes at him but his grin stayed.

"No, Jason keeps making passes like a damn player," Dick explained.

"Bout time," Tim said flopping himself down on her bed on his stomach.

"hardly a time for jokes, Tim-"

"No really, he loves you, you love him just kiss already-"

"You are so dead," Dick shouted rolling her off to the side to make a grab for Jason, who's instincts kicked in and had him out the door in a blink. Their footsteps could be heard pounding down the hall followed by a few crashes.

"Alfred's gonna be pissed," Tim said like he didn't just start it.

"Dude what the hell, why would you lie about something like that," she whispered shouted at him.

"I know you love him-"

"But he doesn't love me you little shit, it's horrible for you to start trouble."

"Speaking of trouble just how much damage did you cause before Jason got up here?"

"A little."

"Let me see."

"No."

"Then I'll just have the others hold you down-"

"Fine fine, when did you get so mean. I swear just last week you weren't saying more than two words to me," she grumbled rolling her shorts up to show him the bandages. They were shallow so no blood had soaked through but he pulled a knife from his pocket to cut them away and check any how.

"I'm sorry I've-we've all been distant with you, but you just seemed so...okay. I mean before Dick pissed you off your voice echoed down the halls as you sang. Every time I passed you you were dancing. You baked cookies with Alfred every other day- I just... I'm sorry I couldn't read between the lines," he said wadding up the gauze and letting her wounds get some air.

"Tim, the singing and dancing and the fake smiles were meant to throw you off, there was no between the lines," she explained softly.

He didn't respond just continues to look at her cuts, the burn scars and what he was really hoping wasn't words carved into her skin, they were so faded they blended with the stretch mark but he was sure he could make out a few letters. Dick came back into the room alone, looking smug but his smile dropped when he saw her.

"Tim! You were supposed to watch her," he whisper shouted crossing the room and dropping to his knees on the bed.

"I did this before any of you got in here, one last hurrah," she laughed. Dick wasn't laughing, he'd found the letters too.

"What did these say?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb, you have letters scared, what did they say?"

She yanked her shorts down and became invested in her cuticles turning her body away and getting ready to run. Dick sat down on the bed about a foot from her trying to give her a bit of space but all he did was give her an opening. She was up and out of reach with a quickness only a past robin could have but she'd underestimated them Dick was in her path and Tim was to her side blocking the bathroom door just as quick. With little to no deliberation she bolted for her balcony. Slamming the doors behind herself she all but leapt from the guard rail and scaled the vine covered lattice with ease. They were close behind and she had to really kick it into gear to run, zigzagging to avoid them.

"Hey, what the hell guys," Jason voice said from only a few feet from her.

"Shit," she said to herself, her shorter legs going as fast as they could, just a little further and she'd be off the property. Of course she was in slippers and her feet were getting soaked from the damp grass, she was just thankful she hadn't-shit she jinxed it, she fucking slipped, right before the damn gate too. Three annoyed vigilantes were dog piled on her before she could even begin to stand back up and fell flat on her stomach in defeat.

"Thanks for the workout," Jason groaned at her his body draped over her legs.

"I forgot how fast you were itty bitty bat," Dick said from his position on his knees next to her, one hand on her back to hold her down.

"Just where did you think you were gonna go," Tim asked, he was just straight up sitting on her like an annoying little brother showing off that he'd grown taller.

"Can I get up now?" They all eased up but before she could get her to her feet Jason tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman carry. His ass looked great in his sweatpants damnit.

"Hey," she shouted smacking his hip, he smacked the back of her thigh in response and she was disturbed to find she'd liked it.

"So what did we learn," Dick asked bending down to be eye level with her.

"That I need to spend more time on the treadmill."

(this entire time I keep picturing Tim off to the side sipping an iced coffee like he's watching a 3d movie)

The walk back to the manner took a little while and Jason was sure to give her a bumpy ride. Unfortunately he'd discovered after he'd tossed her on his shoulder she was in fact not wearing a bra. He could feet her nipples, which had hardened from the cold, against his back as she tried to cling to him for a less rough ride. if Dick was going to kill him before, he was going to make him dig his own grave now. Of course, he felt disgusted for the thoughts he had about his technically adopted sister, even more so with what he'd said to her. If Tim was right, and she loved him back he would die happy. Now though, he had to focus on making her happy.

9-26-24

taglist

@stormz369

#batfam #batman #dc comics #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc universe #dcu #angst #dc jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #tw selfhate #self h@rm #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressing stuff #depressing shit #tw eating issues

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years ago

Text

Puzzle Pieces // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: discussions of pregnancy, allusion to abortion, pregnancy scare, emotions

Summary: You and Jason are doing a last minute grocery run when you walk by the period products and realize that you’re late. You’re never late. One negative test, however, could change everything.

“Jay?”

It was the cadence of your voice that alerted something was wrong. A subtle hitch at the end of his name that sent a wave of icy cold chills down his spine. He turned from where he was collecting a massive amount of cup ramen and stared blankly at the thin box in your hand.

Jason was due to go out in an hour, but the two of you realized belatedly that you were out of ingredients for breakfast in the morning. There were two options: run by the corner store and grab some things or send you out alone in the morning while he slept in.

Jason Peter Todd would have to be six feet underground again before sending you out into Gotham when he knew that all the active vigilantes were fast asleep. If you were venturing out alone, it would be when someone was awake.

That found you two in the corner store near your apartment, snickering and trading jokes over your shoulders as you shuffled through the aisles. You were clad in one of his sweatshirts that practically drowned you in the cotton fabric and some basketball shorts underneath that he’s pretty sure you stole from Steph. He kept a close eye on you, his body inching around in the smallest increments to ensure that, no matter what, he was always between you and the door. He’d be damned if he lost the one good thing in his life.

“I…I didn’t realize, but then I saw the pads and…I’m late.” Panic was evident in your voice and no matter how desperately he wanted to fucking throw up in the middle of the bodega right then and there, Jason needed to keep it calm and cool right now. He quickly placed the ramen cups back on the counter and reached out, taking the pregnancy test out of your hand.

“Okay,” he said simply. One of his calloused hands came up and rested on your cheek, cradling your face. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, but he could feel the slight tremble in your body.

Fuckfuckfuck. He was on autopilot as he approached the counter, tossed a twenty onto the plastic shelf, and walked out with a pregnancy test in one hand and yours clasped in the other. Jason wants to say something, the right words or placating phrase that will make this all better but he can’t because he can’t fucking think about anything except for the fact that he will be the worst goddamn father on the planet.

Pregnant. Fucking hell. You could be pregnant. They were usually so careful. You were on the pill and he made sure you took it religiously. How the fuck could you be pregnant? He couldn’t be a dad. Willis had been a piece of shit who beat Catherine and basically fucked off into the sunset, leaving him and his mom to fend for themselves. Jason had been just a kid yet he picked his mom up off the ground when she was high out of her mind. Then there was Bruce…

Jason ushered you into the apartment and nudged you gently towards the bathroom. He made sure to lock up behind you and then slowly walked to your bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and took a moment, just one single moment, to inhale deeply. He needed to be steady and calm for you. He could freak out later when he was patrolling.

Shit, he needed to be suited up and patrolling the Bowery in an hour.

“Babe?” he asked, his knuckles gently hitting the door. You murmured out a quiet welcome and he slipped in before shutting the door behind him. You were curled up against the tub, staring blankly at the wall, and the test rested on the edge of the tub face down.

Jason sat down on the floor across from you and leaned back against the sink. He stretched his legs out and motioned for you to shuffle over to him. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You dragged yourself across the cold tile floor and settled yourself between his legs, your head resting on his chest. Pressing your ear against the warm scratchy fabric of his shirt and relaxed at the sound of his heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Christ, babe, why the hell’re you apologizing?”

“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “We’ve never talked about it. God, Jase, we’re barely adults ourselves. We’re still trying to figure out how to take care of Merry and Pippin, for fuck’s sake!” You were referencing, of course, the two cats Jason had rescued from a dumpster one night that now slept every night cuddled up against you. Jason had insisted that they were only staying for the night to get them out of the cold.

That had been three months ago and the furry little bastards were currently asleep on top of your pillows.

“Hey, hey.” His lips brushed across the crown of your head as he shushed you. You were shaking in his arms and he hated this. He hated not being able to protect you. Hell, he’s the one that got you into this situation.

“No matter what happens, I’m all in, okay?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears, but you needed to hear this as much as he did. “Whatever you choose, I will support you all the way, you got that?”

“But what if…”

“Sweetheart, you’re the one in control of your body. Whatever you choose will be the best choice for us.”

You fisted the front of his shirt in your hand and bit back a sob. Jason scruffed the back of your neck in a loving gesture, his other arm curling around your waist and tugging you impossibly closer. Jason felt helpless and for a man accustomed to beating the shit out of his problems, he hated that he couldn’t fix this for you.

Your phone started to sing a little chime and you sniffled, reaching over to shut it off. “That means it’s ready. I…I can’t do it.”

He soothed his hand over your hip and kissed your temple. “I’ll do it.”

Truth be told, Jason was terrified. He tried to ignore the slight tremor in his hand as he reached for the bathtub. He didn’t know how he would react to whatever that little stick said. Christ on a handbasket, one little mathematical symbol might change his entire life. He loved being a brother, not that he would ever tell the little gaggle of brats, and he loved being an uncle to Lian, but a father? Could he do that?

There was one thing he didn’t doubt. You would be the best mother in the world. Fiercely loyal, kind, caring, didn’t put up with his bullshit…he could almost picture a toddler on your hip as you smiled at it. But he didn’t see himself there.

Maybe this was a sign that he had tried clinging to his ill-fated happiness for too long.

“Bubs?” Your murmur knocked him out of his thoughts and Jason shook his head.

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“‘S okay,” you said. “I get it.”

Jason inhaled sharply and then flipped over the test. His shoulders dropped at the sight of the minus sign and he extended the test to you. You clasped your hands over the little stick and bowed your head.

Silence enveloped the small, cramped bathroom. Jason studied the broken tile over by the toilet and made a mental note on looking into how to recaulk the shower tiles. They needed another bulb over the sink and maybe a better shower head. Hell, maybe they should paint the bathroom. Anything would be better than the garish lime green the landlord thought would make it look “70s mod”.

“I don’t know what to think,” you finally croaked out. You shuffled out of his hold and turned to face him. His head snapped up and he met your eyes, finding them red rimmed with tears clinging to the edges of your lashes. Jason scooted forward and laid a heavy hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth.

“Talk to me,” he urged. Selfishly, he needed to hear you voice your thoughts because he was fucking terrified that one day he would come home and find all of your things gone. This life couldn’t be easy for you. He needed to stop doing this shit to you. You deserved a better life.

“I think I need some time to process,” you admitted. “Can I…can we talk about this after you get back?”

That sinking feeling in his chest now felt like leaden rock in his gut. He might prefer a crowbar to the chest instead of the dread that currently consumed him.

“I’m not mad at you,” you blurted out once you saw the wounded look cross his face before he schooled his features like he had been trained. “I’m just feeling a lot of stuff right now and I want to be able to think it out before I say something stupid. I’ll be here when you get back. I promise.”

You reached out and touched his cheek. He turned his head to lay a featherlight kiss against your palm and then stood. “I’ll be home by four.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

He was off his game all night. Jason nearly got shot twice when he finally called it quits and let Steph and Cass take on the Bowery. Dick had tried coaxing out why he was in a piss poor mood, but Jason merely muted his comms and shoved the little device in his pocket. His helmet sat next to him on the roof ledge, leaving him in just a red domino mask.

It was creeping towards three and the tiniest light began to creep across the horizon. The inky black night sky dominated Gotham still and Jason took a little solace in the fact that he was cloaked by the shadows.

It wasn’t enough to hide him from Bruce.

The large shadow of his adoptive father landed beside him. Jason didn’t bother turning to look at him and instead focused straight ahead at the slowly rising sun. Bruce silently sat next to him on the roof, his legs dangling over the side.

Side by side, just like they had all those years ago when Jason was still dressed up as a traffic light and Bruce had been…lighter, for lack of a better word.

“Pregnancy scare,” Jason finally admitted. He knew Bruce wouldn’t ask, but he also knew that Bruce wouldn’t leave until he got a clue as to why Jason was sulking on a rooftop instead of beating the face in of some wannabe trafficker.

Bruce stiffened just slightly and Jason huffed out a laugh. “Relax, it was negative.”

“I thought you would be relieved,” Bruce said. None of his kids had ever expressed any interest in reproducing. In fact, Alfred had money on them picking up his serial adoption habits. Clark was in on the bet too. Bastards.

“I’d be a shit dad,” Jason grunted. “I’d fuck that kid up in the head and probably leave it out on the streets like Willis.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Bruce said it so calmly. So matter of factly. He said it as if it was the truth engraved in granite.

Jason barked out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, and you’re father of the year, right? You get to bestow that honor on the next asshole?”

There was a slight twitch in Bruce’s jaw, one that no one would notice unless you were one of his family members. His piercing gaze stared out on the city he loved so desperately and then he looked at the son he had lost so painfully.

“You would be an amazing father because you would ensure that you didn’t make the same mistakes Willis and I made.”

Jason sucked in a sharp breath at his father’s soft words. He clenched his jaw shut and shook his head. A gloved hand landed on his shoulder and Jason raised his head, meeting the white lenses of the cowl so many feared.

“You love this city so much that you are willing to go to lengths that I can’t bring myself to do. You do things I don’t approve of, but you do it because you care so much that you feel the pain the people feel. You love deeply, Jaylad, you always have. I failed you as a father so many times. I should have never let you become Robin. I should have never let any of you out in the field. You were…you were just a kid.

But the one thing I will never regret is bringing you into our home and our family. Being your father has brought me the greatest sorrow and immense joy of my life and I would never, ever give that up.”

Bruce pulled away and stood up. “You should go home. Talk.”

Jason swallowed against the growing lump in his throat and nodded. “Right. Thanks. Fuck you or whatever.”

Batman’s lips quirked up at the corner and then he sighed. “Nice to see you too, Hood.”

Jason waited until he slipped back into the shadows before he pulled on his helmet and grappled back to the Bowery. He landed on his fire escape and quickly slid in through the window. His entry disturbed Merry who had been sleeping on the windowsill. The cat hissed at him and then hopped down, probably in search of his brother.

“Sorry,” he whispered to the cat. God, he was so whipped.

“Bubs?” Your tired voice came from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen. Jason closed and locked the window and headed towards you. All the lights in the apartment were off except for the small, single bulb that hung over the kitchen. It bathed you in a warm light, highlighting the tired circles under your eyes.

A lukewarm mug of tea and a thousand piece puzzle was scattered on the table before you, your usual routine when you couldn’t sleep and decided to stay up and wait for him. Jason stripped off his gloves, weapons, and jacket and dumped them on the floor and then he tugged off his helmet.

You loved seeing him right after patrol. Not only were you able to reassure yourself that he was safe, but you also got to see him when he was in his element. Sweat strands of hair curled across his forehead and beads of moisture trailed down his neck before seeping into the collar of his undershirt. His powerful thighs were bracketed by his tactical pants and thigh holsters and you sighed at the mere sight of his legs.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Jason teased. His voice was warm, but it lacked the confidence he normally possessed. You curled your hand around the bottom hem of his shirt and tugged him closer, your lips meeting his in a delicate kiss. His hand came up to cup your jaw and he deepened the kiss.

“I want a baby.” The words spilled out of you faster than you could rein in the thought. Jason’s eyes widened and you cursed under your breath.

“You want…a baby,” he repeated.

“With you. I want a baby with you. Not right now. Not even this year. But, I want a kid someday with you. When I saw that negative, I was relieved and then I was-”

He cut you off. “Disappointed. You were disappointed because for a moment, you thought about it and realized that you actually wanted this. Just not right now.”

You nodded and pushed his curly, sweat-drenched hair back from his face. “A little boy with your eyes and smile.”

“Or a little girl with your hair and attitude.”

“I want that, bubs,” you assured him. “I want it all with you. A kid, a life, a house with a picket fence and two point five kids or whatever the fuck the American Dream is supposed to be.”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips before he replied in a choked voice. “I’m not a good man, sweetheart.”

Now you stood. You pulled his head down so his forehead pressed against yours and you rested your other hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“Don’t you dare say that to me, Jason Peter Todd,” you said fiercely. “You are the only man I love. The only man I trust. I wouldn’t want to do life with anyone other than you. I want it all, the good and the bad. You do so much for me and for this city.”

Your hand smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck. “Let me take care of you for once. Let me protect you from that mind of yours. I want to have a baby with you, bubs, because I trust you more than anyone that you would love and cherish and protect us with your entire being.”

“I would crawl out of a grave and dip into the Lazarus pit again and again if it meant keeping you safe,” he whispered fiercely.

“I know.” Tears were spilling down your cheeks. “I love you, Jason. So much.”

He clasped his hand over the one that rested on his chest. All of the doubts and insecurities started to ebb away with your gentle touch and soothing words. He burned with the very thought of you filled with a reminder of him. A signal that he was somehow lucky enough, good enough, blessed to be able to worship you the way you deserved.

Jason slid one of his hands under your ass and hauled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist. He scooted past the now cuddling cats and headed towards the bathroom as you laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“What are you doing?” you exclaimed as he sat you down on the sink counter. Jason reached for the back of his shirt and shot you an incredulous look.

“What does it look like I’m doing? Strip, we need to practice.”

The sun emerged from the darkness finally and bathed Gotham in a rare cloudless sky, but it went unnoticed to the two of you. You were, well, busy.

Tag List: @khaetiin @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics @someoneimsure @perpetual-fangirl900 @visagebrise @cursedandromedablack @alexxavicry @havingarebelliousstage @the-wayward-daughter @raging-trash-of-mind @kat-nee @khaylin27

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood angst #red hood fluff

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lightwing-s · 2 years ago

Text

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: there should be a clear hatred for those you fight against, but nobody told y/n and jason about it.

rating: 16+

word count: pasmem 8,2k warnings: sex jokes, heavy make out session, foreplay

a/n: it took me long, but i hope this long ass post makes up for all the time it took me to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one, as i had a lot o fun writing it, and please let me know what you think about it once you're done reading ♡.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt ii

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

… Explosion at the Yacht Basin. The Tiffany is being exhibited. Hurry.

“Just two miles south.” Jason responded. “On my way.”

Speeding up his motorcycle on the busy and wet streets of Gotham, Jason makes a sudden u-turn and heads back in the opposite direction he was once going. Swerving around the cars, trucks and other motorcycles, he hears back honks and curse words be thrown at him, but he doesn’t care. The adrenaline has woken his body. He can even feel the air blowing on his face, even behind the scarlet helmet composing his vigilante outfit.

He had been starving for action all night. His body needed it. Bruce had been an asshole. Roy had been an even worse ass, and there were tons of other people that had been pissing him off all day. All this built up anger made his body beg for some sort of release, he needed this extra energy gone, and punching someone on the face seemed like a very plausible solution to his problem.

Failing to follow his own mind, telling him to be more careful with his driving after the last incident — that had him not being able to rise from his bed from how much pain his body was in —, he drove so fast his speedometer was hitting it’s other end. He’d definitely get scolded for it at any minute by Barbara through the coms, and not being in the mood for that, he turned his communication off.

As he got closer to the marina, the smoke and fire became more and more evident through the gaps between all the skyscrapers surrounding the road. Pinkish flames flaring up here and there, climbing up the marina’s main building, and releasing smoke fuchsia toned. Upon that sight, Jason’s blood began to boil even hotter than it already was, and if possible, he sped up even more.

Recently, pink flames could only mean one thing in Gotham: Cupid. New psycho in town, got this name from Carmine Falcone himself, for her love to use crossbows and arrows and the hazed state his men were left by the mere sight of her face. Having had the displeasure of meeting her countless times, Jason knew her face pretty well, even if she kept it’s bottom mostly covered. And he was glad she did, as he could not stand the smirk planted on her lips as she managed to piss him off to no end.

She was a good thief, fast and stealthy, to the point one could have her in his hands but blink a little too slow and lose her to the shadows. Smart enough to keep herself out of the records for months, misdirecting her actions to random people, until one she had an accidental run into Robin and Spoiler when leaving Gotham’s Museum of Antiquities with a full bag of stolen artifacts and no sound coming from any of the alarms.

Also, she was really annoying, knowing just the right things to say and do to get under Jason’s skin. And she would linger there for longer than he’d like to admit.

Scared citizens still ran out of the building when he got there, coughing and barely being able to breath due to the exposure to the toxic smoke. Leaving them in the care of the firefighters that had arrived a bit sooner than he did, he darted inside. Knowing pretty well how his opponent worked at this point in time, he got to the room where he was certain he'd find her.

Displays of very expensive jewelry filled the otherwise empty room. It was dark, but the few lights that came in from the glass ceiling — from the moon, the street lamps and the fire burning outside — hit the jewels and the stones, who in turn reflected them beautifully making an almost perfect show of lights that could make many nightclub owners out there feel pretty jealous of the image they could never replicate. Almost perfect because right where he stood he could see the central piece of the exhibit was missing, the big yellow diamond out of sight.

No alarm sounds, no security system activated.

“Looking for this?” asked a voice from behind him, soft, sultry and mysterious. What wasn’t soft, though, was the clicking sound of a pistol unlocking and being settled at the nape of his neck. “Don’t worry, I won’t shoot. I like you too much to hurt you, Red. And also, I don’t want to ruin your face before I get the chance to see it with my own eyes.”

“Give back the diamond, Cupid” he demanded through gritted teeth.

“Oh, they have so many here, they won’t notice I only took one.”

With a swift movement, Jason threw his arm back with force and locked Cupid’s arm under his own, making her drop the gun somewhere far he could only see through the side of his eyes. Now, facing the villain, he kept her arm tightly wrapped around his, somewhat careful to not hurt it while keeping control of the situation.

“I thought guns weren’t your thing.” he said, tightening his hold and making her groan.

“I’m keen on exploring new kinks” she replied. “C’mon, Red! We don’t need this. We’re friends, I can send you a gift card once I sell this to the black market” and with an even quicker movement, Cupid released her arm from Red Hood’s grip and spun around, kicking at his face. Jason dodged it and threw a punch at her that she also skipped, though only for mere inches.

Hitting the back of his knee with another kick, the villain managed to make the hooded hero fall to his knees for a brief moment, giving her an opportunity to run out of the room. Jason darted after her straight away, following her through the corridors and up the stairs, then reaching the glass ceiling of the exhibit. She ran with ease on top of the steel bars holding the glass up, opening a gap between the two of them as Jason, much larger and heavier, had more difficulty in doing the same.

Soon, they exchanged the glass ceiling for a concrete roof when they got on top of the neighboring room. Chasing her dark suited body, he managed to shorten their distance a little when she jumped a small gap and fell onto another building, him not taking long and getting there as well. It was the main structure on fire, the heat from below reaching his forearms, the only part of his body left exposed, unprotected by his jacket.

“Into fire play, Cupid?”

“Ha!” she laughed at his joke, throwing her head back mid run. “Works as a great distraction.” she shrugged.

She was certainly faster than him, reaching the end of that building much sooner, lowering down and grabbing a bag that must have been left there beforehand. Out of it, she took her pistol sized crossbow and turned to him. Not wanting to get shot, Jason zigzagged his way to her, trying to run as fast as he could.

After the sound of the weapon activating, an arrow flew right by his shoulder, cutting a string on his leather jacket. Strike one, thought the vigilante. Nobody does that to his jacket.

This time aiming the gun at the higher building, she shot it and the arrow hooked on the stair house wall. Finally reaching the end of his run and almost at arm’s range with the thief, he jumped in her direction, trying to catch her mid flight, but only just touching the sole of her boots. She was up in the air, flying to the other building, and landed on it with gracious ease, as a pretty bird landed on someone’s finger.

“Pray to catch me, Red” she taunted him once she settled on the other side of the tall gap.

Groaning in frustration, he threw off his jacket, incredibly hot to the touch from being near the fire, and feeling a sting of pain hit his shoulder as he noticed a bleeding wound adrenaline didn’t allow him to see earlier in the same spot his sleeve had been laying on.

“Oh, Red.” she screamed at him, attracting his attention. “I swear you couldn’t turn me on more than you already did, but wow!” sliding her back down the wall of the stair house, she sat on the floor, her legs slightly spread in his direction.

“Shut up!” he screamed back, all his build up frustration sounding through it.

“Oooh come make me…” she moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her glistening neck. Anger blew through his nose, and standing on the edge of the roof, Jason took his grappling gun from his utility belt and aimed it at top of where her arrow still stood. Being soared into the air, he was mere inches from reaching the parapet when he felt his body lose all weight and descend to the floor. His heart fell just as hard, as he noticed the cut wire that once held him up slide right past his face.

However, when he thought the floor was his only destination at that point, strong arms held onto his own, keeping him from falling.

“Thought I was gonna let you die in front of me?” questioned that same sultry voice.

“You fucking cut the wire! What did you want me to think?” he replied, grinding his teeth.

“I removed your hook from the wall” she corrected, matter of factly. “And I did it so we could have a little fun. It was getting boring up here. All alone”

The seductive way she finished her sentence made Jason’s voice put up and look directly at her face. Her lowered eyebrows and the pout she had on her bottom lip — plumb, red and glossy ones — made his stomach turn. Strike two, I hate pouty lips.

Using his free arm to grab onto the railing, he forced his body up with her assistance. He put one of his legs over the parapet and managed to finally set his feet on the ground. He shouldn’t have been affected by what happened. He was used to heights, he knew he could shoot his grappling gun again, he knew nothing would happen. Yet, it did affect me.

His heart was beating fast, his breath caught in his throat. Laying his hand on his tights, he tried to steady his it, to relax his shoulders, and ease his body back to normal. For a brief moment, he imagined himself falling into the fire, the image of being consumed by it scaring him way too much.

“Here, big boy. Take a seat” Cupid forced him on his butt and made him rest his head on the railing. “Jesus, you’re not into rope play? Noted.”

Clicking her tongue, she lowered herself to his level and placed one hand on his knee.

“Really… I want to kill you.” he shook his head, removing his hands from under hers.

“Thought your killing days were over, Red.” she stated, hands going to her waist. “Sadly, it’s not gonna be tonight you get to realize your dream.”

Standing up and wasting no time, Cupid grabbed her crossbow, unloaded it and hit it against the back of his ear — or where she assumed it rested inside the helmet. The clicking of metal into metal echoed in his ears, making him lose his senses for a bit.

It seemed like it wouldn’t stop, the sound reverberating under the helmet. He tried to stand up, but his balance was poor, nearly making him fall once again. Holding his head, he tried to stop the sound, but it was useless. Taking off the helmet was a no no, even if the clear best solution to his pain.

Deciding that loosening it might make the situation better, he pressed the button that would free his skull, but he did not remove the helmet from it’s place. Not long after, the agonizing noise came to a halt, his sight stopped spinning, and he finally could stand up just fine.

But Cupid was gone. Lost to the night, and not a single sign she was even up there with him at some point could be spotted around.

If he hadn’t accumulated frustration enough all night until this point, he was sure that now he had reached maximum storage. Punching the wall, he let go of some of it, but certainly not enough.

Three nights ago, Jason let Cupid escape. Three nights ago, Jason got scolded by Bruce for letting the Tiffany diamond go missing. Three nights ago, he could only think of one thing, and that thing has stayed in his mind ever since.

Tonight though, he would finally put an end to his mental torture.

The heavy sound of rain soon faded as he entered the batcave’s tunnel system, being then exchanged by the echoing sound of his engine against the hollow corridors. The darkness and the cold of that place once made him extremely uncomfortable, but after so long visiting those places, he felt embraced by it, and the solitude, the feeling of leaving the whole world behind, turning it off of his head, made him feel at home.

Underground, he found the metro trails of Gotham’s subway system. This first one he spotted was from an old abandoned line, a new one had been set to finish its construction by the late 2000s, but that clearly did not reach that goal, now resting here, forgotten.

Driving through the empty tunnels, following the directions his computer board had given him, and reaching the marked spot on his screen, he made his motorcycle come to a stop, turning it off, getting down from it and making the rest of his way on foot.

He didn’t really know what he was looking for, but he was warned by Oracle of an explosion caught by the radar. The smell of smoke was present during his ride, but there was no sight of fire. Leaving his headlights on, it helped him find his footing around the area, where he could barely see the tubes and wires drawing parallel lines on the concrete walls, nor the weird engravings he had no idea who — and how — had put them there. Standing still, he quieted his breathing and took some time to listen.

The howling of the wind, the timed buzzing of electricity running through the cables and the distant sound of trains following their course filled Jason’s ear, but something else caught his attention. It was the slight sound of rocks moving to his left that made him turn around and face exactly who he wanted to see.

At the blink of an eye, he had her under his gun’s aim.

“Certainly, this terrain doesn’t favor me at all, does it Red?” she taunted, hands held up in the air like a culprit caught by the police. This time, she had her regular all black attire on, but had no mask and wore a hooded jacket, much like his own. “What do you think? Does it suit me?”

“Where’s the fucking diamond?”

“Sold to the black market. Is this all you can talk about?”

She was quick. She had to be, a diamond as expensive as the Tiffany wouldn’t last long in her hands if word got around she still had it for this long. He knew she had to have a buyer even before stealing it. Yet, Jason innocently thought he could have gotten to her before she managed to trade it.

“Didn’t know you were working for Cobblepot…” he questioned. He had been sent here because they knew Penguin was out and about, planning something for some time, but that they weren’t sure on what it was. Finding her here meant she was somewhat involved in his business, and he didn’t know why and how that was made possible.

“Working with Cobblepot” she cut him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance. “And not by choice.”

“For what then? Doesn’t seem to me like he’s the best match for your skill set.” he commented, interested in knowing why this pairing was ever formed. Penguin was a crime boss who would steal everything and anything that could get him richer, and he had worked with some of the best along the years, although not the best partner they had ever had. Yet working alongside a Cupid seemed especially strange this time, as she had only been on their records for a couple months, and Penguin isn’t much keen on working alongside new flesh. And also, from the little bit he knew about her, she preferred working alone.

“For I have no other choice.” she answered, and he could have sworn her voice had a little crack somewhere between those words. “I guess I should’ve picked a buyer more carefully. Next time I try to sell some stolen goods I’ll have that in mind.” she threw her shoulders back and continued. “Beginners curse. I’ll learn things through time and find the right people who I can trust. I did find you after all, right Daddy?”

Say what?! she caught him off guard. What did she just fucking call me?

“I’m not your fucking Da…” lowering his gun, grunting, he stoped himself from saying the last word.

“Oh? Why can’t you say it?” she mused, excited by his excitation from saying the word. “Say it!”

“Stop.”

“Say it, Red.” she challenged.

“No!” he screamed back, while she continued to taunt him. At a distance, his ears heard the succinct sound of a train coming in their direction and he started to notice the peebles jumping up on the ground. He also noticed Cupid standing right at the middle of the railing tracks. “Cupid, get out of there.”

He tried to plead, but she still happily sang to him to repeat the D word.

“The train is coming! Do you want to die” he got closer, but nothing. She didn’t even flinch at the words train and coming being thrown at her.

“Y/n, move!” he screamed.

“Oh, you know my name?” her eyes widened as she seemed to have grown more excited at the thought he knew her identity. “Only fair you give me yours now.”

Crossing her arms on her chest like a little child would do to its parents, she continued to ignore Red Hood’s pleas as the train announced itself to them by shining it’s lights in their direction.

“C’mon” he grunted, but she still didn’t move.

“Tell me your name” she sang.

“Damn it, it’s Jason. Now fucking move.” He was desperate at this point, as she made no indications she was moving out of the way. Fearful, he started walking in her direction.

“Now, say dad-dy…”

“FUCK!” he screamed and rushed his steps. Getting to her, he jumped into the tracks and held her by the arms, dragging her alongside him out of the railway and onto the opposite wall, fast enough to have the train pass behind them and over the spot she was standing on a second later..

“Why didn’t you fucking get out?” he asked, completely exasperated, pushing her away from his hold.

“You wouldn’t let me die would you?” she pouted at him once more, aggravating his nerves and making him moan in frustration. Why is she so fucking difficult?

“I would kill you if I could.” he stated, getting closer to her face.

“What's holding you back? Papa bats wouldn’t let you?”

Clenching his wrists, trying his best to not throw a punch at her yet and doing his best to hold his anger, he answers through gritted teeth. “I’m past that”

“A mature man”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying”

“It’s a talent I’ve curated through the years.” she stated, proud of herself for being an irritating little shit.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” he questioned, remembering his job and the orders he had received earlier.

“Ah…” she looked up, as if trying to remember herself. “Distracting you.”

“Huh?”

“Penguin is planning something tonight and told me to take you out of his way.” He didn’t notice she was this close, but her hands were not at his collar. She fixed something in his chest he failed to see a problem with, her hands sliding up and down his chest.

Shit, Jason thought. He had to get back.

Grabbing her wrist, he removed her hands from his jacket and threw them far away from him. Turning around, he was dead set into returning to the surface. “Oracle, this was a distraction. Penguin is…”

“...Robbing the entire exhibit at the Yacht Club. Yeah, we figured that out. Where were you? Everyone is heading there now.”

“I’m on my way too.” he cut the conversation short, running to his motorcycle.

“Hey, Jay?” he rolled his eyes at the sound of her voice, still walking to his vehicle and getting on top of it. “Could you give me a ride?”

“You gotta be kidding me” he whispered to himself. Looking back at her, arms on her side and big eyes innocencly staring at him, he really wondered if she was being serious or not. What was stopping him from giving her a ride and locking her up afterwards? In fact, that seemed like a very good idea to him. Having her right there, sitting behind him and holding his body, he could be sure she wouldn’t go anywhere…

“My my, you’re actually considering it?” she smirked, breaking him out of his thoughts. “You should go, Red. The sooner you trap Penguin, the sooner I’ll be free.”

And turning her back to him, she disappeared into the darkness once again. This time, he made his way into the shadows right after.

By the time they all had got to the exhibit, the jewels were already gone.

Penguin’s meticulously crafted plan was a success. He had each and every member of the family busy with different affairs, seemingly unrelated, and within large enough distances to the Yacht Basin, that if anyone was seen moving in its direction, they would have enough time to clear the area before they got there. And everything went as planned.

They all wondered, how could they have been tricked like that? So under their noses, so obvious looking on the outside. Yet, they were played like little children.

“We are trying to keep this out of the news until we understand how it all happened. The National Museum won’t be happy with this.”

“We’re working on getting as much information as possible, Commissioner. Penguin can’t have gone too far, this fast.” Batman stated. “These jewels are still in Gotham, and we’ll find them.”

“Good. Otherwise the mayor is gonna want both our necks hanging by morning.” Commissioner Gordon replied, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge and fishing for a cigar he knew he had hid somewhere inside his coat’s pocket.

Hearing their conversion from a few feet away, Jason and Dick watched as the two of them said their goodbyes, and Bruce, in his mighty black cape and cowl, made his way towards the two standing in the corner.

“Are you sure the jewels are still in the city?” Dick questioned, a subtle hint of doubt hidden in his voice, but not daring yet to completely cut this theory out of the question.

“No planes or ships were spotted on the radars. Fleeing the city with millions in gold and jewelry is not going to be easy after the police closed all road exits.” looking back at the Commissioner for a moment, he continued. “Barbara responded that all cameras at the Yacht club were conveniently turned off earlier. But she got a hold of the street vigilance records and caught a truck with suspicious actions coming and going down the street that leads here.”

Walking between Dick and Jason, he ignored their questioning looks and continued.

“I’m taking the batmobile back to the cave. Gather more information on the truck’s route and possible destinations. I need you two on the streets, be my eyes and ears. If anything happens, you need to call me. Immediately” he demanded, blending with the shadows and making his way out of this place, leaving the two brothers all alone.

“I can’t believe Harley was with Penguin on this one.” he heard Dick start. “I was so sure she was trying to break the Joker out of Arkham again. I only realized something was wrong when she was taking too long to take some action .”

His brother’s little adventure with Harley Quinn was at the bottom of the list of things he was interested in at the moment. While he continued to ramble about it, his mind was constantly drawn back to the tunnels and to her.

The way she could get under his skin so easily was something he couldn’t figure out how and why happened. There was only one other person who could do it as easily, but the Joker had killed him in the past, making the reason for his hatred for the Clown Prince of Gotham completely reasonable. On the other hand, he had only known Cupid for some time, met her less than his finger could count, and she really had not done anything more than antagonize him and actually save his life once.

And also, she was kinda hot. It irked him tremendously to even have thoughts about this, but he had to be honest with himself and admit — to him only, and nobody else — that he did have a small, very slight, very little, thing for Y/n. But that was all physical, he only thought she was insanely attractive. She could work her body and her words, clearly, and he was just stupidly weak to have fallen for charm.

“What did he do to keep you away?” Dick asked, having Jason’s attention back to him.

Jason considered if he really should tell his brother or not of what kept him away for so long. He had joked before about how much he seemed to find her out during patrol, and how she often got the best of him, leaving him empty handed. When they found out her real identity, Dick caught a glimpse at how Jason stared at her pictures a lot longer than he usually would.

Coming to a conclusion, he answered without shame. “Cupid.”

Just by hearing her name, Dick’s smile spread on his face, although he’d keep trying to hold it back, his mind getting funny ideas of what the two of them were doing down in the underground.

“It seems like you’ve been finding each other quite a lot recently,” he stated.

“Uh-huh” Jason hummed, agreeing with him but limiting himself to a short and final answer, knowing pretty well where this conversation would go if he stood around for too long. Ignoring anything else Dick had to tell him, he mounted his bike and drove away to work on finding the jewelry truck.

Hours later, when the sun was getting close to coming out of hiding, Jason stood under a railroad bridge, quietly watching the rain fall harshly down the sky and form large puddles on the asphalt. He had been riding his motorcycle all night, looking for that truck or any other indication of Penguin’s work. He drove and drove, but got nothing.

Now, standing there, he had difficulty keeping his eyes open. He awaited something. Something to happen to bring energy back into his night. Something to keep him busy and away from his own thoughts that had been torturing him all that time.

The rain hitting the metal structure over his head was soothing, and did not help his attempts to not fall asleep. Sometimes, a vehicle would pass by his spot and jolt him awake, or water accumulated somewhere would fall down all at once, making a huge noise out of nowhere. Other times, he’d hear mice or the sounds of footsteps coming up top, but would see nobody, animal or human, out there. Worst of all was when trains would pass by the bridge and make everything in a two mile radius to shake.

Tired mind meant thinking of things he wouldn’t want to think about when his mind was properly awake. He closed his eyes and could hear the sultry sound of her voice, or smell the spicy scent of her perfume. He needed to see her again. He needed to let off some steam, all that stored frustration. He needed to see her and make sure she had forgotten about his name. Remembering he did that, he threw his head back and released a heavy sight. It was stupid to have said it, and he didn’t know why he kept doing stupid shit whenever she was around.

Feeling safe in the loneliness, he took off his helmet and got some much needed fresh air. He leaned forward and laid his head down on his motorcycle’s panel, ready for a nap. Bruce wouldn’t notice. Penguin must have already left the city somehow and this whole night of waiting was for absolutely nothing.

Losing to tiredness, he began to dream of meeting Y/n and talking to her again. But the dream wasn’t long, because when he was getting to the good part, something made him jump out of his sleep.

“Is the night too much for the incredible Red Hood?” asked a voice he did not recognize and who he could not see, hiding from the lights, but who he felt came from right behind him. The voice was followed by the sound of two, or was it three, sets of footsteps approaching him.

“Or did that arrowed cunt give you the kiss of death too?” joked another voice, clearly familiar with the first one. Jason still could not see them yet, but knew very well where they stood.

“Are you guys scared to come out of the dark?” he taunted them. “It’s easy to tell me shit when I can’t see who I’m supposed to be fighting with.”

“Isn’t this guy is fucking cocky, Dan?” the second voice commented.

“How many of your friends have left with all working limbs after finding me during a night at their job?” Jason inquired, smirking at the men in the darkness, proud of his high rate of beat down assholes.

“One as many punches I’ll be gifting your face tonight.” one of them replied.

“Then come and get me.” he challenged, arms open in a call for battle.

Upon his call, two tall men left their place in the shadows and ran in his direction. One of them was skinny, and held what Jason identified as a knife in his hands. The other, smaller and a bit heavier, had something shining between the base of his fingers. Standing up from his bike, he cracked his neck, his arms and his fingers, waiting for the action to finally reach him and he slowly paced towards the two guys. Action was on again, baby.

The fact that he was outnumbered did not bother Jason in the slightest, as he defended himself with ease. The other two, although pretty confident when they ran towards him thinking they could give him some bruises, soon found out that defeating the Red Hood was no easy task. Their confidence was rapidly gone.

He managed to divide them. Turning to fight the first one, he grabbed him by his collar, threw him at a metal pillar, causing an echoing sound to reverberate around them, and the man to fall hard on the ground, grunting on the floor and touching his own his to check if they were okay. Now, changing his attention to the other man, he couldn’t find him at first glance, but saw this one trying to sneak around his back and hit him on the head with a large pipe he had found somewhere. Being a smarter fighter, Jason followed him by the noise he was making by breathing, walking and simply existing in around him. Jason knew exactly where he was and avoided the hit. Then, he grabbed the man’s hand and spun his arm around till it made a loud cracking sound and the guy made an even louder and painful scream.

“How many punches did you say you’d give me again?” Jason shrugged. Not a single drop of sweat in his body.

The moaning and groaning of the two guys on the floor were like a symphony to his ears, the perfect credit song for one of his favorite action sequences. Wanting to leave, he looked for his helmet as he didn’t see it where he had left it above his bike. Not on the floor either, and also not rolling to the street.

“Took ill on Thursday, Grew worse on Friday, Died on Saturday, Buried on Sunday”

The words came out of a third voice, perhaps the third pair of steps he had heard along the men’s. But different from the two idiots on the floor, this one definitely activated his fight or flight instincts.

“Solomon Grundy, born on a monday.” The big shadow of the creature turned into flesh and bone, red helmet in hands. Breaking the item as if he was breaking glass, the angry monster threw pieces on the floor, stepped on them with his bare feet and with heavy steps made his way to the Red Hood. “Solomon Grundy, born on a monday”

“Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as the zombie-like walked closer. “Long time no see, buddy.”

As if disgusted by the nickname, Grundy darted towards Jason, who then ran towards the street in hopes to get more space to fight the big guy. He also hoped the wet asphalt could somehow aid him in bringing down the creature. He deviated several punches, while his own hit the spot a couple of times, but apparently didn’t cause his enemy much pain. Kicking the back of his knees, he made Grundy lose some balance and fall to his knees, giving Jason enough time to think of a plan.

Looking back at his bike, still where he was sitting under the bridge, he decided that the best plan was making a run for it and trying to escape. He didn’t know what and why had Grundy so mad and out of the sewers tonight, as he rarely left his safe spot, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer to figure that out.

“You work for Penguin too, Grudy?” he jokingly asked, making a run to his motorcycle. “Thought of you as better than that.”

“Solomon Grundy… works for nobody” he answered, punching the ground with both of his hands right at the place where Jason had just been standing. Almost out of the street, a car suddenly passed by — for what reason? — and blocked his way, and then another car showed up. Why are all those people driving towards Solomon Grundy? Have they all gone mad?

When he was too worried about the cars and the stupid people driving them, Jason didn’t notice when Grundy approached him and hit him right in his jaw, making him fly across the street. There on the floor, his head spun and everything went blurry as he tried but could not pull himself up from the ground. Damn it, he needed to get out of there.

Getting to his feet, lord knows how, and stumbling to make his way to where he wanted, he heard the swift swish of projectiles flying by his ears, who were then followed by Grundy’s screams and complaints. Two. Three. Four more things hit him, but somewhat running with a spinning head had Jason’s vision go everywhere but nowhere at the same time.

As if that wasn’t enough, suddenly the honking of a car and a pair of headlights were in his face, as he felt the floor shaking from the heavy steps that were also heading his way. Trying to rush, he nearly fell onto the floor yet again, but a loud crash sounded through the whole street and something knocked him down.

His vision was getting darker, and all voices sounded distant, but this one he still could hear clearly.

“Stay with me, Jason. Don’t close your eyes”told him the voice, this time it was soft and sultry. He felt his entire body ache, and his eyes couldn’t stay open even if she begged him. “Hey, Jay.” she called him again, tapping his cheeks with care to try to keep him awake. “Stay with me, please. Stay awake.”

But it was too late. Soon, everything was black.

His head banged with pain. Really, it hurt like crazy. It was not the best sensation to wake up to. His vision still hadn’t settled too, still spinning as he last remembered them. He tried to inspect the room he was in, but he couldn’t identify where he was. He woke up god knows where, but the real question in his mind was in how he got there.

Remembering everything that happened before he blacked out, Jason tried to stand up from the bed he was laid on, noticing his missing shirt and the curatives glued to his chest. He sat at the tip of the cushion, placing his bare feet on the cold floor.

The small room he was in had only the bed he was on and a small table by its side, but it was randomly adorned with small plants, colored glass decorations and a pile of old books at one corner. This didn’t look like neither his or his brother’s home, and it was too small to be anywhere inside the manor. This also did not look like a cell, or a hostage room. It felt too cozy for that.

Gosh, he thought, placing his head on his hands and massaging his temples, I’m knackered.

Forcing his body to comply with his mind, he stood up on his feet, but it immediately felt weak and fell backwards onto the bed.

“Easy, Red” someone rushed beside him, holding his sides to check if he was okay. “You’re still dizzy from all the pain medication I gave. I must admit, I’m not the best doctor you could find.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, confused when he recognized the voice.

“Baby, you were knocked out and saved by Grundy last night. If he didn’t jump after you, you’d have been smashed by that car, like a smashed potato!Jason.” Y/n explained as her face was becoming clear in his eyes. “And I have to be honest here, after finally seeing your face after this long, I can tell you it’d have been a real waste if all of that had happened.”

When this fell to his ears, his hands shot up to his face, noticing his domino mask gone.

“Where am I?” he asked, still groggy.

“At my place.”

“You had the courage to take me to your home?” he questioned, incredulous. Putting her index finger on her lips, she requested.

“Don’t tell anybody.”

“Wh-what…”

“Relax. Just let me check your bruises now that you’re up.” she cut him, grabbing a pastel yellow bag from the table next to the bed, pushing his arms away and settling herself on his lap.

Not believing what was happening, Jason could only stare at her wide eyed as she removed his hair away from his forehead, and cleaned the cuts on his face with a cotton ball.

She was uncomfortably close. Dangerously close to him, and he didn’t know how to react. Her face was mere inches from his, and, as she continued to clean his bruises, he could feel her hot breath hitting his face. He had to blink once, or twice, or thrice, to try to recollect himself and to try and push her away from his lap, but she hooked her lean legs tightly around his waist, silently telling him she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t touch me.” he complained, trying to keep his face away from her touch by awkwardly throwing it back.

“How am I supposed to bandage you up if I can’t touch you?” she rolled her eyes, but he could see a smile gracing her face. Her arms on her hips, she finally had a chance to get a proper look at what she was wearing. She had on a gray tank top and jean shorts that barely covered her legs and left her beautiful tights on display for him to see… and touch, as he placed his hand on top of them “involuntarily”.

“Then get off me” he replied through his gritted teeth.

Pissed off, she straightened her back and looked right into his eyes. Jason suddenly felt small as she proceeded to challenge him.

“Make me.”

And when she didn’t get a response from him, nor a shake of his head or a noise from his throat, she smirked back at him, going back to tending to his wounds.

Jason stood there, quietly and still, watching as she cared for his wounds with utmost concentration. When she was done cleaning his face and chest, after carefully removing the curatives that had been protecting his scratches there, she fished for some medicine to apply on him. She had put everything on the bed, all at an arm's distance so she wouldn’t need to leave his lap to grab anything until she was done.

He winced when she applied an antibiotic cream on his cuts and he felt the itching starting, but she scolded him to get himself together and let her finish with the rest. When he still showed agony on his face, she blew at the spots and softened his pain.

There, on top of him, she was constantly moving. He could feel her crotch sliding against his own, making his mind go places where it shouldn’t be going right now. His hands started sweating, and he tried to clean them on his pants, before placing them again on her legs.

“A-hem” he fake coughted, trying to get her attention. She simply shushed him.

Moving on top of him once again, slightly rising herself from his lap and standing with her knees on the bed, her boobs were then leveled with his eyes. He tried to look away, out of respect, after all he was still raised to be a gentleman, but he lost battle to his worst side, it getting control of him as he threw some glances at her cleavage.

Still on her knees, she lost a bit of balance, almost falling on her back if Jason’s strong hands weren’t at her back ready to steady her back into his lap. A soft thanks left her lips, something that shouldn’t have made his mind go mad, but lord help him, he was going insane.

He was entranced by her. By her beauty, by her kind touch. By her hot breath and the soft smell of coconut shampoo emanating from her hair. He watched her bite her bottom lip in concentration, sometimes switching habits and sucking her cheeks in as she focused on the task at hand.

“Done.” she announced, smiling at him briefly before taking the medicine bag and organizing the bottles, sprays, tubes and bandages inside.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He couldn’t look away. And he also couldn’t let her go too far, growing needy of her touch and presence. Growing addicted to finally having her this close. His hands pressed tighter around her waist and tights, impeding her from moving any further.

“You can let me go now, Jason.” And the way she pronounced his name. Oh, the way she pronounced his name. It sounded as if an angel sang him the prettiest of lullabies, or as if the devil seductively listed him all of the most delicious things the world had to give. Her plump lips moved and he got hypnotized.

“I want to kiss you.” he stated, without really thinking of what he was doing.

“You’re drunk on the meds.” she joked.

“No” he shook his head, sitting up straight and getting dangerously close to her face. His lips lingering over hers. They stared at each other's eyes like they were both hypnotized by each other. Nah, they were hypnotized. Their eyes were low but never leaving the other, their breaths mixing together.

Placing a hand on her neck, thumb caressing patterns on her skin, Jason tangled his fingers on her hair and pushed her down onto him. Their mouths collided with each other and moved in perfect synchrony, in the wettest of kisses. Her arms wrapped around his neck, but didn’t stay there for long, as she felt the need to have them all over his muscular chest.

His tongue soon begged for entrance, and she allowed him in without any reluctance.

His hands also roamed her body, desperate to touch her every inch. He drew lines up and down her back, lifting her top all the way to where it reached her bra. He played with its hook as their mouths still danced in the most intense kiss, and unlocked it before she even noticed. He was desperate to take her shirt off, but he didn’t break the kiss. However, hard things had to be done to achieve greatness.

Finally breaking the kiss, he took her shirt off over her head and tried to do the same with her unhooked bra, but her arms locked on her side stopped him from doing it. Before he had a chance to complain, she closed the gap between their lips again, restarting the fire they had briefly put off.

They didn’t let go of each other. There was no need for space, or air. They were consumed by the other taste, the smell, the touch. Starved, actually. Jason was starved. He didn’t know he craved her this bad until he had her in his arms, until her hands roamed all over his body and her hips gridded against his cock with fast movements. When she broke the kiss for air once more, he pouted his lips and she let out a laugh.

“Easy, boy.” she mocked, but soon threw herself on top of him again, laying him down on the bed, scratching his nude chest with her nails, the pain making his pants feel even tighter. As her hands got lower, they soon got to his waist line, where the tightness was making go crazy, agony climbing up his spine anxiously waiting for his release. She played around with the button of his jeans, teasing his patience, caressing his dick over all that fabric. It felt like torture, just as she liked. She like to torture him so bad, and he always knew it. Her hands were full, his side filling them completely, and they kept working their way up and down, often combining the movements with the tightening of her grasp around it and driving him so close to release without even having his member freed.

He was so close, gosh, so close. But then she stopped, his eyes instantly opening as he looked after hers, begging her for an explanation.

“You should rest.” she answered his grunts in complaint, getting off his lap and standing up between his opened legs. He quickly sat up from the bed too, grabbing at the base of her ass, desperately not wanting her to leave him. “I thought you wanted to kill me” she rested her forehead on his, joking at his change of behavior within just a few hours.

“I’m way past my killing days” he said, still out of breath.

She looked him in the eyes once more, staring deep into them. They didn’t hold longing anymore, there was no desire. Instead, her look was soft, warming. He felt safe under it, all his fire suddenly, but not completely, gone. Hooking her bra, she then reached for her shirt he had thrown right behind his back when they were still attached by their mouths. Having to lower herself a little bit to grab it, she provocatively placed her chest right down his nose. Still pumped with desire, Jason kissed the exposed part of her breast, feeling their warmth envelop his wet lips.

“When the effects of the meds are gone” she started, holding his head up by his chin, making him look to her eyes once more. “We can decide if we want to keep playing or not.”

Taking his hands away from her legs, she moved away from him without breaking eye contact. She grabbed a bottle out of the table, taking out of it a small pill. Putting it between her teeth, she walked to Jason, him immediately holding the base of her ass again, and lowered her head so their lips touched one more time. She allowed the pill to drop into his mouth, and as she broke the kiss, he swallowed it alongside all this frustration he could not seem to let off.

Walking out, she left him alone.

He dropped on the bed. Head going back to just moments ago, when she was on top of him and he felt… deep. He felt… he felt his consciousness leave his body. He felt his lids falling, too heavy for him to keep open. He felt it all change, from color to black, once again.

“So, you’re alive?” Dick questioned as Jason stood up for his sofa, protecting his eyes from the sunlight.

Jason was confused. So, was that all a dream?

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

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ms-spkhd · 15 days ago

Text

been dabbling in omegaverse lately, so congrats, you get an excerpt of one of my WIPs

(tw for period-typical homophobic and ableist language)

Funny. Eddie could have sworn that the padlock on his locker door had been completely intact when he last checked before first period biology.

Well, he’d hoped, since he changed the little bastard three times since the school year started–some barbarous, degenerate dickheads thought ransacking his locker and painting freak across the walls would really warm the cockles of their sad, commiserable little hearts. But those hopes, puny at most, seem to be dashed the moment he dragged his feet back from his final class of the day and found his locker, visibly padlock-less. Fuck.

Eddie stares vacantly at the door.

Well, it’s not actually funny. The joke never is, anyway, but what’s really funny is that Eddie has absolutely no clue if this whole thing is a joke or not. There’s evidence of funny business, of course, but the door isn’t tagged with fag or spazz or that ever-prevalent freak. He turns his head from left to right, surveying his surroundings, but nobody’s huddled together and snickering behind their hands like he’s the punchline of a school-wide inside joke. The hallway is relatively empty, save for plucky junior Gareth who’s hurrying towards him with his backpack slung around his shoulder and–funnily enough–Harrington, who quickly averts his gaze when Eddie’s eyes fly past him.

Eddie huffs. So much for a damn Alpha, huh? Can’t even make eye contact with the freak of five years worth of weeks.

“Eddie!” Gareth greets enthusiastically, skidding to a stop next to Eddie, “What’s up, man?”

“Somebody fucked with my locker,” Eddie says blankly and points to the door. “The lock’s gone.”

“Shit, that’s not good.”

“I concur,” Eddie mutters bitterly. “Should I open it?”

Gareth straightens and takes a defensive step away from the locker. “No way,” he insists. “Knowing those guys, they’d put live frogs in your locker.”

‘Those guys’ is too broad of a statement–it could be anybody, considering their steadfast placement at the rock bottom of Hawkins High’s metaphorical feudal system. Now that he thinks about it, with Harrington leaning faux-casually against the lockers and occasionally scratching at his nose, it ought to be the work of the basketball team; no doubt Billy or Jason at the forefront of it all.

There’s a faint stench of anticipation whirling around the air. Dread, Eddie realizes. It smells like…like freshly ground pepper and the dewy forest behind his trailer. Like dead leaves and suburban rot.

“I don’t hear any croaking,” Eddie says, resolving to approach the situation with some natural caution. He swallows a great big breath and opens his locker.

The good news is that there’s no frogs.

The bad news? What he finds instead is fucking confusing.

All four walls are spotless, apart from the tally-marks he scratched into the left wall with a nickel for every detention he’d score, and there isn’t a single textbook, notebook, or balled up wad of graphing paper out of place. But, smack dab in the middle of his locker, nestled between the half-eaten tuna sandwich he’d forgot about last Thursday and a dog-eared copy of Brave New World, is a ziploc baggie of chocolate chip cookies, a black velvet pouch, and a piece of lined paper folded into a neat square.

“Any animal bits?” Gareth asks.

“Worse,” Eddie confirms.

To start, the gifts and the free food aren’t usually a thing. In fact, they’re never a thing because Eddie’s not a hot item in the high school market. He’s nowhere near lukewarm, practically Antarctic, at that. He’s no Ubermensch Alpha, weighed heavy with the stink of fresh blood and ash, nor is he a simpering and sweet-blooded Omega. He’s a Beta, like the other 80% of the high school population. There’s no reverence in the way he’s treated–he isn’t worshipped for his ‘powerful masculinity’ like they would an Alpha, and they definitely wouldn’t idolize or protect him for his honest to goodness high fertility rates.

Eddie is just Eddie. No one would even think to look at him twice if he didn’t decide to scrap his normalcy for the ‘devil-worshipping freak’ shtick. Jocks with inferiority complexes loved him for that. They loved the big red target he painted on his back, how it made them feel powerful, like big tall Alphas that howled into the moon and shifted the tides. But he’s not weak–he knows he’s not weak. He yells and claws and makes a scene; lets them know he has just as much power as them.

But that’s beside the point. No one is kind enough to sneak nice shit into Swirlie-boy Munson’s locker without ransacking it.

Eddie fishes out the pouch from between the cookies and note and examines it carefully, as one does with a bomb or vial of rat poison. As he loosens its tie, the sickly smell of apprehension spikes with his heart rate.

What he finds only compounds his confusion.

“It’s a D20,” Eddie tells Gareth, feeling light-headed. Gareth squints at him, his face scrunched like his brain hasn’t caught up with the information yet, which Eddie thinks is fair enough.

The dice is a yellow like sunshine, like a dandelion pinched between his fingers when he was small. It’s beautifully shiny, polished enough for Eddie to nearly see his reflection on its surface. There’s not even a single stain of a fingerprint on it. God, it must be brand new. It’s beautiful.

“Holy shit,” Gareth says, dazed.

“There’s no way,” Eddie breathes out, because the universe couldn’t possibly be this kind to him. There’s gotta be a catch–what if it exploded? What if it’s blackmail? Oh, God, the note.

Eddie fumbles with the pouch and tosses it into Gareth’s hands, who holds it gently in both palms as if he’s nursing an injured mourning dove. Like a bat soaring out of hell with its ass ablaze, Eddie snatches the note out of his locker and almost rips it to shreds in his haste to unfold it.

Dear Eddie,

I know I’m not the best with words, but I need you to know how much I feel towards you. I feel like we’re both on different sides of the track, a real Romeo and Juliet type situation, if you ask me–you’re King of the underdogs. You fight for your friends and the little ones you keep under your wing, and you have no idea how much I admire you for that. I guess you’d call me King of the school, but I hate that title. It’s got a lot of baggage I don’t handle too well, and, well, I’ve never been brave about it. I watch you and I see braveness personified, and I know I never fought for you like you fought for the guys in your corner.

Not just that, you’re beautiful too. Every time you look at me I feel like I shot a three-pointer at the championship game. It feels like a winning move. Those eyes you have, they’re like stars. And, God, your scent is so good. Like ginger and cinnamon behind all that tobacco, I wish I could smell it forever.

I know I’m not the type of guy you’d go for, or the type of guy you even tolerate, but I hope you’ll give me a chance.

Yours,

S.H.

(Ps. Sorry about the lock, I accidentally broke it trying to jimmy it open like an idiot. I’ll pay for it if you want me to.)

(Pps. Look behind you.)

The first thing Eddie registers is the overwhelming scent of peppercorn swirled together with rain-soaked oakwood. “Time and place?”

Eddie’s eyes widen before he whirls around and almost brains Steve fucking Harrington with the white-knuckled fist clenching his letter. Harrington dodges his swing swiftly, catching Eddie’s hand in his, and smiles expectantly.

Holy shit, holy shit.

Gareth is braced against the locker beside Eddie’s, eyebrows high into his hairline and mouth aghast like a suffocating walleye. His eyes dart back and forth between Eddie and Harrington like the latter is going to swing back and stuff both of them into a locker.

Eddie swallows, feeling ill and cotton-mouthed. He wrestles his hand out of Harrington’s grip, hard enough to almost slam his knuckles back into Harrington’s pretty face again, and shoves the note into his front pocket with a huff. He shoots a glance over at Gareth and gestures at him to find Jeff or Phil with a flick of his head.

Gareth, typical of his dutiful nature, flips Harrington off with both hands and scampers off, sneakers squeaking distantly against the linoleum flooring.

Once Gareth rears the corner, Eddie sets his jaw and squares his shoulders. “My bench behind the school,” he says rigidly. He’s going to set this right. “Now.”

Harrington’s eyebrows scrunch curiously. “What?”

Eddie grabs the lapels of Harrington’s Members Only jacket and yanks him forward with all the force he can. “I said now.”

#not written here but this is very much a wip about the mortifying ordeal of being known and being loved by choice not by nature #im definitely not well versed in omegaverse and this is really just my misguided interpretation of it lmao #i hope its interesting for the veterans out there!#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #abo #omegaverse #alpha steve harrington #beta eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie wip #steddie ficlet

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 7 months ago

Note

Hi again! Can't pass the opportunity of suggesting a prompt either ^w^ Thanks so much!

V. "I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle." for the Vampire / Werewolf AU

Thank you so much! I always love your comments, so I hope this is to your taste as well! ❤️

Leader of the pack

Rated: T

Words: 996

Tags: Vampire & Werewolf AU; Vampire Eddie; Kas!Eddie; Werewolf Steve; Eddie Munson Whump; Jason Carver being an asshole; Blood and violence; Nudity; Eddie is having a bad day

“You know,” the hunter says, and his companions snicker. “I'm a little disappointed. I expected a bit more of a struggle.”

“Well, what can I say?” Kas retorts. “You have very convincing arguments.”

He tries to struggle free, but his skin burns at each contact with the net. It’s woven of delicate silver thread. It might as well be made of steel. His grin turns into a pained snarl, lips peeling back to reveal his fangs.

“You flash those all you want,” the hunter drawls. “You won't be able to for long.”

“What?” Kas sneers at him. “You gonna kill me? I'm terrified.”

The hunter smiles sharply.

“Oh, no. I won't kill you yet. I know there's more of you wretched bloodsuckers lurking in the mountains, and you …” One of his hands grabs Kas by the jaw. “You are going to tell me where to find them.”

Kas snaps at him. The man laughs.

“Patrick,” he says to one of his companions. “Give me the pliers. Let's see how he likes biting once we pull out his-”

He doesn't get any further.

Something rustles and before he has a chance to fully turn, a giant, snarling shadow flies out of the darkness and latches on to his throat.

Kas hits the ground. His skull connects with a rock, and the world descends into a blur of teeth and fur and terrified shouts as more shadows lunge from the forest.

When the fog lifts, the hunters are gone. Their cries mingle with the sounds of howls and snarls in the darkness.

In front of him, staring at him with eyes like liquid gold, is a giant, furry beast.

Kas groans, head thunking back against the ground.

“Fucking mutts.”

The wolf huffs something that might be a laugh. Then, it hunches in on itself and the sound turns into a whine. Kas screws his eyes shut to block out the sight of the shift while the wolf’s pained noises mingle with the crunch and slide of muscles and bones rearranging themselves.

“The polite thing to say would’ve been thank you. I thought your kind was known for their good manners.”

When Kas blinks his eyes back open, the wolf is gone. In its place is a young man. His eyes are more hazel than gold, but still sparkling with smug amusement. His hair is the same caramel color as the fur of his other form.

He’s also bumfuck naked.

“Yeah, well,” Kas says, “I thought yours was known for keeping your noses out of the affairs of other races.”

The stranger huffs again. He stands and stretches - a long, graceful ripple of lean muscle - before he twists around to unsling the leather bag strapped to his back.

“We do, usually,” he says, sitting back on his haunches and rifling through its contents. “However, we tend to take it personal when strangers wander into our territory and hunt down our prey. Animals don't grow on trees, y’know?”

Kas stares at him, because … what? Surely this is a joke, because who'd say something like that with a straight face? The answer to that question, evidently, is naked wolf boy right here, because he refuses to even crack a grin.

“Wha-?” is what he finally says. “What animals? I haven't touched any of your precious prey.”

Wolf boy measures him with a long, doubtful look, like he's trying to figure out whether or not to believe him. Finally, he sighs and pulls his hand from the bag. Glinting between his fingers is a long, jagged knife.

Kas hisses.

Wolf boy rolls his eyes. “Are you always that dramatic? I was only gonna cut you loose.”

The knife slices through the thin thread with ridiculous ease, but it still takes a while to free him. Wolf boy needs to be careful to not touch the silver himself, after all - not the easiest of tasks without even a shred of fabric on his body.

“What’s your name?”

This must be the most bizarre conversation of his long, tedious un-life, he thinks. Exchanging smalltalk and platitudes with a naked werewolf while being cut out of a hunter’s net.

“Kas.”

“Bless you,” wolf boy says. Kas can’t see his face, having turned his back to give him better access to the net there, but he doesn’t need to. He can practically see the dorky grin. “What’s it with you vampires and your stupid, made-up fantasy names, huh?”

“It’s a question of style, alright?” he grumbles. “Not like I’d expect you to get it. What’s your pack leader called again? Otis?”

Wolf boy’s hands freeze, but only for a second. Then, the knife gives one final, brisk tug, and Kas can feel the last of the net fall away from his blistered skin. He can’t quite help the relieved sigh that escapes him.

“Anyhow, it was nice meeting you,” he mumbles, rolling his neck and reveling in the feeling of his powers slowly seeping back in. “Have a nice rest of your life, I guess.”

“Huh?” Wolf boy asks. “Oh no, you got that wrong. You’re coming with us.”

Before he even has a chance to ask what that means, something closes around his wrists. This time, the silver is encased in a thick layer of leather, so it doesn’t make his skin blister and burn. It still draws all of his strength right back out, leaving him weak and harmless like a kitten.

“What the actual fuck?” he snarls as wolf boy hoists him to his feet. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Funny that you should mention grandpa Otis,” wolf boy says merrily. “He’s been dead for ten years. My name’s Steve, by the way. Sorry if it’s not fancy enough for your taste. Come on now, I hate making my pack wait.”

Kas is powerless to resist as he grabs him by the elbow and walks him towards the myriad of glowing eyes staring at them from the treeline.

More celebration ficlets

Steve said "I'm the alpha" 😅

Part 2

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago

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Gothamites (mostly the older generation) definitely know or at least think that Bruce Wayne is batman.

Like that guys saw his parents die Infront of him, became extremely traumatized and left Gotham for a bit, came back and became an idiot when they knew him as the smart traumatized boy who deeply care about the people around him.

And when he did came back appearances of "the batman" (yes gothamites used to call him the batman when he first appeared it's my little headcanon) and with the newly named "Brucie" going around rumors start to spread.

And when Batman started becoming more and more common gothamites definitely figured it out. Especially when Bruce got little Richard Grayson from the circus and a few months later robin was flying around with batman, and then Jason came along after Nightwing was born and a new robin was flying.

And when Jason supposedly "die" (it wasn't confirmed or deny he just disappeared like that and "Brucie won't tell anyone) and batman became more ruthless with criminals that's when gothamites knew something was up. And they out two and two together and got the idea that batman is Bruce Wayne.

And Bruce Wayne is a billionaire so of course he can get the money for all the tools he use for batman, why didn't they saw it sooner.

So now they decided to play along because Bruce Wayne is still Gotham's little guy.

And when people from other places say that Bruce is batman they will deny it with all their being because "why would Bruce Wayne be batman, that guy fell down the stairs and into the fountain last gala" " Bruce Wayne as batman? You have got to be joking he once got stuck in his office because he forgot it was a sliding door and not a push or pull door"

(sorry if this is bad I don't know much English)

(No need to apologize at all ^^)

Oh? An AU where all of Gotham knows that Bruce is Batman but, for some reason or another, will insistently deny otherwise?

Hmm.... The evidence of Bruce = Batman is stacked against him, but his Brucie Wayne shenanigans do balance it out a bit (idk about you, but if I saw someone shamelessly flirt with everyone and then knock over a chocolate fountain, I would be dissuaded).

I do like the idea that young Bruce (up until he disappeared) emulated the personality of Batman. Perhaps Bruce became colder or whatnot on his travels, but the drama? The glaring, getting into fights, loner vibes, not schmoozing? [not sure what teenage Bruce is canonically like, but I want to imagine he's nothing like Brucie]

Just the whiplash the Gotham socialites must feel at grumpy, teenager Bruce to overly affectionate adult Brucie? Kind of hilarious

While there are some plot holes, it's a great crack AU idea (it almost feels like Gotham is humoring him)

#bruce wayne #dc au #thank you for the ask!!!!

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pumpkinbxtch · 8 months ago

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Okay so I was thinking a Reyna x Daughter of Neptune reader. Said daughter of Neptune is an outcast due to her heritage and the only thing her powers are good for is destruction but she's ambitious. She believes she can be more and is aiming for the role of praetor. It leads to a rivalry between her and Reyna. However they are both secretly on the side of the Argo II crew during HoO when they're being hunted. And because of it at some point their rivalty turns to trust and they develop feelings for each other.

love in times of war 𓍼

— reyna ramírez-arellano x daughter of neptune!reader

☆ radiostar is playin': get free by lana del rey...!

summary: you and reyna didn't have a great relationship until a common goal brought you together. you have been plotting against octavian's ideals and that has made you closer but perhaps for you it has been a little more than just being closer or being friends... warnings: none a/n: I think it was interesting to do this, I really enjoyed it although I think I will only do Reyna upon requests or if I have a big inspiration.

𓍼

So, you snuck into Reyna's room again. Honestly, you found it hilarious that the guards didn't notice you were out of your cohort. You glanced around before knocking your knuckles against the door, following the pattern she knew all too well.

Even though you knew nobody was probably watching, adrenaline made you sweat, feeling time tick with each second she didn't open the door. When she did, you did your usual, pushing her and swiftly closing the door, lock included.

— Good evening to you too — you smirked, glancing her over your shoulder with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow.

— Praetor Reyna — the humor in your voice made her smile, and you headed to her bed to sit down, noticing the other side was empty since there was no other Praetor, though Jason was still out there, with Percy, who had taken his place just a few weeks ago. But now it didn't matter; both had fled with those others you had no idea what the hell they were doing, but you knew you had to support them.

— I know what you're thinking — her voice startled you, feeling a knot in your stomach you were dying to untie but didn't know how.

— About how I'll steal your praetorship? — You joked with a small smile, and she huffed playfully, tossing her braid over her shoulder.

— You wish — you turned your head and noticed her chocolate eyes seemed to turn black when only the torches illuminated them. Reyna walked toward you with those regal steps that caught your attention, almost stealing it entirely, and that wasn't good since you already dealt with attention deficit, if she did it while you were trying to defuse a bomb, you'd fail miserably. You knew it.

— There's no news — she said softly once she sat next to you, so close you could smell her violet fragrance, the same one she had on her bedside wooden table. You nodded calmly and sat in a way you could face her. You furrowed your brow as you stumbled over the first words, making her lean a little closer to you, which of course didn't help.

— In fact, I don't think I came entirely for that — when your response finally came out of your mouth, it took her by surprise a bit. She narrowed her eyes, and you smiled widely, struggling to bury your embarrassment.

— No?

You shook your head, looking past her. She leaned in a bit more, and you felt your mouth go dry; if it weren't for the dim light, it would be evident that you were blushing from ear to ear.

— So?

—I...— you struggled again trying to formulate a coherent sentence and stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what you could ruin with it. Was it worth it? Or would she think you were a freak? Oh, by Neptune, if you already had enough with your divine lineage, that thought made you take a thousand steps back. Your smile flickered, but in the end, you held it —I think I might just want to see you. We don't need everything to revolve around those seven and Octavian's crappy plans.

Reyna tilted her head with a confused expression, probably because she didn't understand your motive since hers had only been for the good of the camp. She surely didn't understand how you could come up with that after just wanting to steal her position, then being good comrades fighting from within against Octavian's brainwashing, much less in times like these, but you really couldn't stand the idea of hiding it anymore.

— Are you saying you come here out of friendship? — That word pierced your chest, and you struggled with the annoyance it provoked, avoiding it being evident on your face. Reyna was one of the smartest people you had ever met in your life, but you couldn't believe how oblivious she could be about certain things. Then that thought ran down your spine, chilling your blood, what if you had misinterpreted those small acts? You cursed, and your mind raced.

Was it normal for her to seek your hands some nights to hold them? As far as you remembered, you didn't need physical contact with your battle partner to strategize. Or the way she teased you? Sometimes, she would get so close that her minty breath fanned your cheek, making it impossible for you not to face her in the same way, and when you did, the way she smiled at you when her eyes met yours wasn't normal or friendly.

You cleared your throat.

— I don't think friendship is exactly what I mean — your knee sank deeper into the mattress as you leaned a little closer to her, as if you were about to tell her a secret. Reyna's hands sweated as she smelled your Coco scent, but she remained firm because in that game, she was too good. —Do you understand?

The brunette never wished so much to have control over her vocal cords to prevent her words from trembling; she thought she was stepping on a certain floor that could collapse if she said the wrong things.

— I don't understand half-baked explanations — she said reluctantly, and unlike what she would have expected, you let out a huge groan.

— Reyna, something's going on between us. Right? — You took her shoulders, and she couldn't help but lean back. You had never imagined with just that, you could see more fear in her eyes than when she fought beasts triple your size. — If I'm crazy, throw me out of here. I'll live as the rejected I am by my father, I'll never aspire to the Praetorship, but tell me I'm wrong.

— Will you also stop supporting those seven just for that?— You clenched your lips; you could see she was playing with you, but Reyna was on the verge of running out of her own bedroom regardless of the damn rules and punishments they would impose on her.

—That's non-negotiable — you clarified as if it were obvious, silly even to consider letting Octavian win. Reyna hummed, looking over your shoulder, and you clenched yours; she was playing dumb. —You're changing the subject!

— Oh, am I?— You raised your hands, annoyed, and shook your head with irritation. You knew it wasn't a good idea; now you had just thrown everything away. That's what you thought until her lips kissed your cheek. You looked at her as if she had gone crazy.

— Of course, there's something — her voice softened a bit, her gaze fixed on the empty bed in front of you, as if she wasn't dropping a bomb that could make you sink thousands of ships.— But I didn't think it was a good time to say it out loud or I just thought I was being carried away by the strong emotions surrounding us lately.

You understood. You were at war, and everything felt like the last breath, so people tend to cling tightly to what's closest to them, what makes them feel better, just as a way to feel the need to resist, to survive. In the end, it was momentary, but you looked at Reyna, and it didn't feel the same way, you didn't want her just because she made you feel safe in a moment of such uncertainty. It was something more.

You searched for her hand, the one with that ring, and intertwined it with yours, a silent act but with too much emotional weight for both of you.

— I know what it's letting myself be carried away by emotions, I'm a daughter of Neptune — you joked and stroked the back of her hand with your thumb,— but this isn't like that, I wouldn't leave you at the first chance I had. Hell, leave a woman like you? — You scoffed, and she shook her head with closed eyes, releasing a laugh that helped her release the stress of that situation — Grace should have thought twice and Jackson four times, I'm surprised we're even remotely related.

Reyna stifled her laughter, but your goofy smile only encouraged her more to imitate you. Reyna never imagined telling you what you made her feel, never actually, but from that moment on, she was excited about all the things you could do, she was a romantic at heart. Then, like in any romance book she could have read, she took you by the wrist and pulled you towards her to kiss you. One of her hands rested on the back of your head while the other pulled you towards her from the neck of your camp shirt. Her lips were soft, and you couldn't help but kiss her slowly to enjoy that new sensation, she seemed to feel the same by the way she crumpled your shirt.

She pulled away from you with sparkling eyes, and you huffed, making some of your hair fly from your forehead. You felt overwhelmed and too heated, surely at that distance, your blush was noticeable as well as hers that stood out on her brown skin. Reyna smiled eagerly and sat up again, linking her fingers with yours.

—Let's get rid of that grumpy little gnome from power, together.

Your eyes widened with excitement, and you nodded firmly, bumping your forehead with hers and giving her a peck.

— Together.

#maría's shared dreams☆｡ﾟ✧#reyna ramirez arellano #reyna ramirez avila arellano x reader #reyna ramirez x reader #the seven pjo #pjo hoo toa #heroes of olympus #reyna avila ramirez arellano #heroes of olympus x reader #reyna x reader #reyna ramirez arellano x reader #hoo x you #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #pjo #hoo x reader #camp jupiter

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