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themaribatpit · 3 years

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Hanging by a Thread: Chapter 3

Rated M: DC canon-typical violence, suggestive threats

Author’s Note: Neither of us are actually American, and DC Fanboy has some gripes with certain American habits. Please feel free to tell us how uncultured we are in the comments, and try and explain yourselves to non-Americans.

Ships: Jason Todd/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon (side ship).

Taglist:

@aespades, @neakco, @ladybug-182, @seraphichana, @zalladane, @luminous-carrot, @jayjayspixiepop, @cap-noodles, @livelifeauthorstyle, @thepaceperson, @moongoddesskiana, @vroomtaka, @laurcad123, @prettylittlebutterflie

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Dick slumped down on a chair when they returned to the Belfry. He ripped off his domino mask and let out a sigh. “Damn he’s good, then again he was taught by the best.”

“Dick!” Barbara gave him a dirty look. They both looked towards their French guest to see her still lost in thought.

Ladybug transformed back to Marinette, and then slowly walked over to get herself another cup of hot chocolate to cheer herself up. As she operated the multi hot drinks machine in the Belfry, she thought about how incredibly convenient the device was. Barbara and Dick mentioned that unless it was winter, no one else used it for hot chocolate.

Hot chocolate dispensed from the machine, and as she picked up the paper cup, a shadow loomed over her. She was able to make out the silhouette of an imposing figure with demonic pointed ears. She squealed in shock, spilling her hot chocolate on the figure.

Dick rolled off the chair laughing, “Oh, better fly away home Ladybug.” “How long have you been waiting to use that joke?” Barbara said without looking away from the screen.

“Since the moment I met her, Babs,” Dick retorted.

After the initial shock, Marinette was able to see the figure clearly and realised she just spilled hot chocolate on Batman. The Batman. Marinette paled at what she had done, she fumbled around looking for tissues. All the while apologising profusely as she tried to find anything to wipe the Caped Crusader clean from this chocolatey mess. Her mind ran at a mile a minute, thinking of what Batman would do to her for spilling hot chocolate on him. She thought of how Batman would squish her like a bug, or perhaps he would break all of her limbs, and send her on the first flight back to Paris while tied to the cargo hold. Her mind was catastrophizing and going into a full panic as she stumbled around the kitchenette.

Marinette found a damp cloth and began wiping Batman vigorously from head to toe and hoping it would somehow lessen her punishment. She looked up to see that Batman continued to stare at her with his infamous glare. Seeing that her attempts to clean up her mess had no effect, she ran back towards the main room and grabbed Dick, holding him in front of her as a shield.

Batman slowly followed, without saying a word he stomped into the main room and came to a halt right in front of Dick. “Uh, hi.” Dick awkwardly greeted Batman. Marinette shakingly peeked her head out from behind.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, also known as Ladybug.” Batman’s low voice boomed with authority. “What are you doing here in Gotham?”

Marinette yelped and went back to hiding behind Dick. Barbara interjected, “She’s here to investigate a recent use of the Lazarus Pit, mainly the Red Hood. From what we gather the creatures that give her power were also the ones who created the pits.” She explained on Marinette’s behalf.

An uncomfortable silence hung in the room as Batman contemplated her answer. “Fine,” he relented. He turned and walked away.

Marinette released a sigh of relief as she saw Batman leave. Dick took out his phone and began tapping on it, he just had to notify the rest of the Bat Family of what had just transpired. After a few moments he put his phone back in his pocket and walked away, “I’ll get a mop” he yelled back at Marinette and Barbara.

Marinette then slumped on the dining table, hands in her head. Completely embarrassed at how she made a fool of herself in front of one of the world’s greatest heroes. Barbara calmly patted her back in consolation. After she calmed down and got herself another cup of hot chocolate, Marinette decided to head home.

On the way back to the apartment she shared with Zoe, she checked the messages that Zoe sent her during the past couple of days. “Hey, are you okay?” The first one read. “I haven’t seen you in the apartment for a while now,” she said, followed by a message that said “Please don’t be dead, I can’t afford rent by myself.” Marinette sent a quick reply saying, “I’m okay, I’ve just been busy taking care of some things. See you tonight.” she said. When Marinette got home, she logged onto her computer to see a few messages from Alya, asking her of how she found Gotham City. Expressing worry for her friend, especially with the notoriety of Gotham's crime rate.

Marinette typed up "Hi Alya! Gotham is all right, I can take care of myself, you know that."

Alya decided to video call Marinette and her face appeared on screen. "Hey!" Alya waved her hand to her friend.

"Hi" Marinette gave a tired wave back.

"Everything okay?" Asked Alya.

"Fine, just tired from moving into the new place." She explained.

"By the way, could you open up a portal with Kaalki to my room?" asked Alya.

Marinette complied with her friend, as she put on the horse Miraculous and opened a portal. Soon a paper bag dropped from the ceiling and landed on the floor. "I had a feeling you might want something to cheer you up, I went to your parents' patisserie earlier."

Marinette opened up the bag to see several treats from the bakery. She thanked her best friend profusely, and began eating them “How are things back in Paris?” Marinette asked, taking a macaron out of one of the boxes, she smiled as she took a bite out of it. It was almost like she was 13 again, and her dad had given her a box of macarons for the first day of school.

“Nothing we can’t handle,” Alya said, winking at her. “So, have you met any of Gotham’s vigilantes yet?” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, yeah,” she might as well tell her some of the things that happened. “I accidentally spilled hot chocolate on Batman’s cape,” she confessed. “And you’re still alive?” Alya’s mouth hung open in shock. “Well, he does have a pretty strict ‘no killing’ policy,” Marinette told her. “Okay fair enough, how are you still in one piece?” Alya asked, still somewhat shocked.

“He just kinda glared at me, and I hid behind one of his sidekicks.” Marinette told her, “So, that’s how.” “Ah so you’ve met the sidekicks then,” Alya gave her another knowing smile. “Some of them, Nightwing being one of them.” Marinette told her. “Did you get a good look at his assets?” Alya gave her a wink, and Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure his assets were spoken for,” Marinette said, and before Alya could say anything more she quickly added “and no, I am not telling you who the lucky person is.” “You’re no fun.” Alya pouted mockingly, but she couldn’t stay angry at her friend. Alya noticed the faraway look in Marinette’s eyes at that moment, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Marinette wondered how best to phrase it, “do you know anything about the Red Hood?” she asked.

Alya’s eyes widened in shock, “You’ve met him? Are you and Zoe living in his territory?”

“No, at least not that I know of, I just…” Marinette assured her, “Do you know anything about him?” “Give me a moment,” Alya said, quickly turning away to search for something on her laptop screen, “must have heard something about the guy…” she muttered. Marinette never really told Alya about her soulmate bond, and she wasn’t about to start now. “Says here he’s a crime lord that operates in Gotham City, that he took over Black Mask’s crime syndicate not too long ago…” Alya told her, “Pretty brutal to those who cross him, by the sound of things.” “Good to know,” Marinette muttered. “Marinette, are you sure you and Zoe are okay?” Alya asked. “We’re fine, just that Ladybug ran into him while working with Batman’s sidekicks.” Marinette told her. “I should have been there, it would have been a fun interview for Ladyblog.” Alya chuckled, and Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I mean, after the fight of course, or maybe I should just stop talking.” “Try pitching the idea to Vicki Vale or Lois Lane, I’m sure they would jump at the chance.” Marinette joked.

"Just you wait until I get my Journalism degree, I'll bother you everyday for a scoop." Alya retorted. The two of them continued to laugh and joke with one another before Marinette went to bed.

The next morning, Marinette was woken by someone gently nudging her awake. “Get dressed dummy, we’re going out.” she heard a voice say. Marinette looked up and blinked a few times before Zoe’s face came into view. “What time is it?” Marinette groaned. “9am,” Zoe told her, “we are going to go out and get some breakfast together.” Marinette groaned in response, but slowly got out of bed. Zoe leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms and smiling. She chuckled slightly at the sight of Marinette’s tousled hair, Marinette smiled slightly in response. “All right, all right, give me some time to get dressed.” she said and Zoe left, closing the door behind her.

The two friends sat down to eat breakfast at a nearby diner, and Zoe began telling Marinette all the ways in which America was very different from France. “First of all, they call the 24 hour clock ‘military time’, I never understood that.” she explained before taking a bite of her pancakes. Americans made pancakes a lot thicker and fluffier compared to crepes, was another thing Marinette noticed. “Oh, no more 2 hour lunch breaks, and as a French person, you will get made fun of for having more time off work than the Americans.” she said.

As the two finished breakfast, Zoe paid the bill and left a tip. Marinette raised an eyebrow at Zoe for paying what was higher than the bill. “Marinette, remember, always tip whenever you go eat at a restaurant or a diner.” She explained.

“Why? Isn’t there a service charge added? Don’t the servers get paid?” Marinette asked.

“Not at all.” Zoe deadpanned.

“What?” Marinette exclaimed in shock, she quickly covered her mouth as eyes turned to face her for her outburst.

Zoe beckoned Marinette to follow her, “Come on, I’ll show you all the hotspots in Gotham City.”

The two walked out onto the street and across several blocks. Zoe stopped as the two reached their destination. She then pointed to an old gothic tower, “That there is the old Wayne Tower, creepy isn’t it? Built in 1888 by Cyrus Pinkey for the Waynes right at the heart of Gotham City. It’s been closed for a few years now, since Wayne Enterprise moved to the New Wayne Tower in the financial district.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in recognition, it was where the Belfry was located. She remembered the gothic tower, but she had no idea it was the old Wayne Tower. She decided it would be best to keep quiet about this revelation.

The two continued sightseeing as they ventured into Robinson Park. “This park is amazing, the biggest park in the heart of Gotham. Also it's very close to Gotham U, I’d love to come here everyday after class to unwind.” Zoe explained. The two calmly walked across the park, enjoying the scenery and stopping by to feed some ducks.

“Anyway I need to get some things on the way back,” the two then walked to a nearby grocery store and bought groceries. Being on a budget, Marinette eyed the price tags frugally, calculating how much it would cost her. Zoe smirked at Marinette, knowing what would come next when the two went to the cash register. Marinette was thrown into a loop as the total amount did not match the price tags. Marinette tried to ask for an explanation from the cashier, but they were not helpful. The cashier only said that it was tax, “Why isn’t tax included in the price tags?” she pleaded to the cashier.

The cashier gave Marinette a light shrug. “That's just the way things are.”

Marinette pulled her pigtails in frustration as to why the final price doesn’t match the price tag. “Ok fine, what's the tax in America?”

Zoe took the chance to intervene and explain it to her friend. “It depends, it varies between states, counties and even cities.”

Marinette banged her head against the counter in frustration. “Why? Why is it so crazy here?”

Zoe and the cashier laughed at Marinette's antics. The cashier asked “You new here?”

Marinette did not lift her head up, “How could you tell?”

The two made their purchase and walked home, Marinette had to do a double take on the loaf of bread she bought. She stopped Zoem and said that they needed to go back to the grocery store for another loaf of bread, because this one had expired. Zoe snatched the loaf from Marinette’s hands and took another look. “Nope it's fine, remember America uses Month/Day/Year here.” Zoe explained. Marinette’s eye twitched as the two walked back to their apartment.

The semester began the following Monday at Gotham University. As a Fashion & Design student, Marinette had long studio classes which usually kept her busy during the day. She would have to spend even longer hours in the studio if she had a project due. When Zoe wasn’t attending lectures, she had a part-time job that kept her busy as well. So Marinette didn’t see much of her by the time she managed to return to their apartment.

Over the course of the next few days, she would go to her classes by day and go out every night to search for her soulmate. However, the Red Hood had proved to be elusive, always alert to the movement of the red thread that tied them together. Marinette found that the thread changed wildly. Some nights she stopped by the Belfry, exhausted and dejected. Barbara had noticed this and decided that she had to know about Jason, it might change her mind or it might not. She deserved to know if she was going to go looking for him every night.

One night when she entered the Belfry, Barbara gestured to Marinette, “Come over and pull up a chair.” Marinette followed and brought a chair to the computer. The two sat side by side, “Mari, you deserve to know more about Jason...the Red Hood.”

Marinette’s eyes widened at the mention of her soulmate, “Please tell me more about him.” she begged.

“Marinette, I’m sorry, we knew more about him but we didn’t tell you.” Barbara apologised.

Marinette was hurt at how they were withholding information about her soulmate from her. “Why?” was all that she was able to say.

Barbara took a deep breath, “Because Jason was the second Robin.”

Marinette’s jaw dropped at this bombshell, her soulmate used to be Robin. It would explain the skills he displayed out in their last encounter. Marinette wondered how tough his life was, how he suffered at the hands of the criminals of Gotham at such a young age. Some of the things he said back at the dockyards were now sounding like they came from experience. “What was he like?” she asked, wanting to know what her soulmate was like before his death.

“Angry, rebellious, Jason always felt like it was him against the world. He was caught trying to steal the wheels off the Batmobile, that's how Batman found him and brought him in.” Barbara explained.

“How did he die?” Marinette asked.

Barbara grew silent at the mention of Jason’s death. “He tried to pursue the Joker, but it was a trap. The Joker caught him, tortured him for god knows how long. I saw his bruises, it-it was as if he was beaten over and over again with a crowbar.” Marinette covered her mouth and her eyes welled with tears as she heard the gruesome details of her soulmate's unfortunate end.

“To make matters worse, he locked Jason in the room with a bomb.” “What about the Red Hood?” she asked. “We...we buried a mannequin in a wig,” Barbara explained, “the real body was taken by the League of Assassins, trying to make up for what happened.”

Marinette stood up and rushed to the guest room, she had heard enough. She could not imagine the pain and suffering her soulmate had been through his entire life.

Jason had been constantly on the move, knowing that his soulmate was out looking for him. He tried to shut off the part of him that wanted to get close. He was honestly surprised the Bat clan hadn't told her every horrific story they had about him. Either they didn't know they were soulmates or she was knowingly walking head first into the lion's mouth. If she didn't find him, then she might stumble upon a group of his men at work, and they might be a lot less forgiving. If he was constantly checking over his shoulder, making sure the girl wasn't close by, things were bound to start slipping through the cracks.

He himself had various safehouses scattered around the city, but he couldn't keep running forever. It was getting ridiculous, he had faced crime lords, assassins and even gone toe-to-toe with Batman multiple times. Yet here he was, running and hiding from a girl who was about a foot shorter than he was. He knew why, of course, he wasn't afraid of her but she should be very afraid of him. He had hoped that she would give up the search, as she drew closer and closer to finding out the truth about what happened to him. But life had never been that easy for Jason, and sooner or later she was going to get too close to the untamed monster beneath. If she got hurt because of him, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. Not even his old self could forgive that. He would have no trouble protecting her from other criminals, not that she really needed it. However, whatever came crawling out of the pits was something else.

After putting a swift end to some people who were causing trouble in his territory, his mind wandered back to Ladybug. Specifically, the sad look in her eyes when he explained how brutal and unforgiving Gotham could be. He tried not to think about it, because that look made him want to hold her close, and reassure her that everything would be okay. Thoughts of how the idea of her gave him hope all those years ago would come bubbling to the surface. It made him want to protect her, to ensure that this world wouldn’t hurt her the way it hurt him. When she looked at him with those eyes, it made him want to believe that she trusted him to do just that. He shook his head, and told himself that what he was also the very thing she needed protecting from.

Most nights Jason had nightmares about failing to save her. There were even nightmares where she died by his hands. Her blue eyes would become lifeless and vacant, her skin would feel ice cold, and he would end up cradling her limp form in his arms. Batman would just love it if those nightmares came true. It would only prove to him that Jason was nothing more than an unhinged monster he couldn’t cage. It wasn’t as though the Bat had much luck caging the real monsters in Gotham anyhow. Most days, Jason’s skin crawled as he remembered the feeling of the Lazarus pit’s waters. The creatures she was palling around with were the ones who made it. They probably didn’t give a damn about the evil they had inflicted on the world because of it. For all he knew, being around her little fairy friends would make the effects much worse. Still, when he snapped back to reality, he would see the string glowing red, just as it had always done. Occasionally moving and twitching as his soulmate searched high and low for him. Maybe the time had come to have a little talk, soulmate to soulmate...

#maribat #jasonette #ml x dc

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

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Sex Tape

Pairings: Johnny Depp x Reader

Request: “ If you take requests, would you consider doing johnny reaction to like theirs sex tape getting leaked? Reader may also be a celebrity or not. Whatever you prefer “ - @fanficshitandother

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut

Word Count: 1800

A/N: Sorry this one is so short. I was having a harder time writing it than I thought I would. I hope you enjoy!

__________________________________

Shit.

You knew this was a bad idea when he suggested it but no. He just had to have this video “for when he was away filming.” It always ended like this, though, right? It always started out as fun and games until bam! Celebrity sex tape leaked!

The gossip talk show video that your best friend had sent you was still playing on your phone and you watched in silent horror as the red haired woman talked about your sex life to her male counterpart as if she had any actual right to have an opinion. In the top corner was a picture of you and Johnny at the red carpet for the premier of the Crimes of Grindelwald, his arm around your waist and both of you smiling for the paparazzi pictures. “Okay, guys. You are going to want to hear this,” She started, clasping her absurdly long acrylic-clad fingers together and holding onto her knees, “So there has been yet another sex tape leaked and I want you to guess who’s it is.” She looked over to her co-host. He had a push broom mustache that was bleached blonde to match his hair.

The man hummed before waving his hand, which also donned long yellow acrylics, “I swear, Laurel, if this is another Kardashian or Paris Hilton tape, I’m gonna scream. That’s such old news.”

“Actually, it’s someone that I certainly didn’t expect. Johnny Depp and his wife, Y/N L/N.” She dropped the news and the co-star’s mouth dropped.

“Are you serious? Like Jack Sparrow, Sweeney Todd, Willy Wonka, Johnny Depp?” He asked in total shock, “I didn’t expect that either! But you know what? I feel like he’d be really good in bed.”

He and Laurel both laughed, “You’re so bad!” She squealed, hitting him with the paper notes in her hand, “But, between you and me,” She leaned in, as if she was telling an actual secret that wasn’t being broadcast on the internet, “I did see it.”

“And?”

“It was pretty hot, I can’t lie. That Y/N is a very lucky girl indeed.” The pair giggled like a pair of school girls.

You were absolutely mortified. How did this happen? How many people had seen it? Who had seen it? Oh God… all you could imagine was your family stumbling across the video or, debatably worse, Johnny’s kids. This had to be one of the worst moments of your life.

You turned off the video and quickly dialed your husband. “Hello, love.” He greeted cheerily on the other end. The faint sound of cars passing in the background told you he was probably driving home from the meeting he had been at.

“Did you see it? Did you hear it?” You asked frantically.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The video! The video got leaked!” You ran your fingers through your hair messily, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

“What video?” He questioned, not sounding like he fully understood what had happened, but then you could almost feel the weight of realization falling on him, “Wait, our video?”

“Yes! Our video!” You were yelling at this point, not at him but at the situation and thankfully he understood that.

“Okay, okay. We’ll- Hang on my manager is calling. Probably to tell me about it. I’ll be home in five minutes. I love you.” He signed off your call quickly before hanging up without giving you the chance to respond.

While you waited for him to get there, you spiraled down the rabbit hole that was the tabloids and social media. Your phone buzzed off the charts as everyone from your sister to Helena Bonham Carter called you to ask if you were okay. Of course, you weren’t. But it was one phone call from a former college roommate, Sheila, had really gotten your blood boiling.

“It’s okay! If anything, this is just going to make you more famous! Look at all the other celebs who’ve had their sex tapes leaked. They’re like, super famous.” Sheila sounded more excited than she should have, which certainly made you question her motives behind calling you in the first place. Since marrying Johnny, you’d had the unfortunate displeasure of having to cut a few people off from your past who had randomly called you up after years of little to no contact, asking more favors in the movie industry, money, or even just for the clout of saying they knew you. There really was such a downside to this whole marrying famous person thing that nobody ever really talked about - not that you would take it back, though, of course. You loved Johnny more than anything.

Still, when the words left her mouth, you felt a flash of anger swell up, “Contrary to what a lot of people might believe, being famous actually kind of sucks,” You spat angrily, “And call me crazy, but I don’t exactly feel thrilled at knowing the whole world as access to a video of my naked ass!”

“At least it’s a good naked ass, though! Your boobs are looking pretty good too. Did you get them done?” She asked bluntly, still not a care to be heard in her voice. You swore you could almost detect a fake valley girl accent too.

Your mouth dropped open in disbelief at the words coming from her voice, “I can’t believe you.” Without giving her a chance to respond, you clicked the off button before flipping her off through the screen, though you knew she couldn’t see it. The audacity of some people.

The front door swung open, drawing your attention as Johnny hurried into the house, setting his bag down by the front door. “How bad is it?” You asked, knowing his manager must have told him the full extent.

“Do you want the truth?” Johnny saw as panic and humiliation swept across your face, knowing that perhaps that wasn’t the best way to break it to you that it was pretty bad. He stepped forward and wrapped you in his arms, “I told Harrison to take ‘em down. Whenever he found one, he said he’d get it deleted.

You sighed defeatedly, “That doesn’t stop the fact that a bunch of people already saw it.” Your arms wrapped around Johnny’s torso and you allowed your head to fall against his chest, trying to calm yourself with his scent- exotic spicy cologne and old books.

His large hand came to stroke through your hair, “That is true,” He conceded with a heavy breath, “But, it also means that fewer and fewer people will continue to see it.” There was a pause in which neither of you said anything, only took a few minutes to hold onto each other while you thought about the future now, “Y’know, I can’t help but feel like this is partly my fault. I shouldn’t have asked to make the video. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head in disagreement, “I agreed to do it too. It’s on both of us. In retrospect, we should have put it on an actual VHS tape or something that would be more difficult to get into the tabloid’s hands.”

You were tired of this - of this constant running from the vultures that prayed off your every misstep just to turn them against you and create headlining stories. You felt like you couldn’t even breathe without a scandal unless the media allowed it. You were just grateful that you happened to marry one of the most private actors in Hollywood, knowing that whatever pressure you felt, more public figures like Angelina Jolie had it much worse. Still, something inside you stirred, a decision that you’d stop living in fear.

Johnny pulled back and gave you that infamous cocked eyebrow look of wonder, one that you’d mostly seen him use as Jack Sparrow. Little did everyone know, it was a gesture he’d picked up on doing in real life as well. “Do we even have a VHS player anymore?”

You chuckled and buried your head back into his white shirt, “I don’t even know. I feel like there must be one laying around somewhere. And if not, I’ll go down to a pawn shop and pick one up just for you to use while filming.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” You leaned back, pulling on his shirt to bring him down closer to your level, “That if we’re going to be making you another one of these videos, it’s gonna be on something that stays only between us.”

Your husband nearly choked on air, “Another one? After what just happened?”

“Only if you want to and only if it stays on something physical like a CD or VHS that we can mutually agree to burn and destroy if anything happens.” You giggled and Johnny joined in with a low chuckle as well, “But… the video was leaked. We knew that was a risk when we made it. But, y’know what? I’m tired of living in fear of the paparazzi and public. They’ve already seen us fuck. There’s not much else we’ve got to lose.”

His dark eyes flashed with mischief before he took off in a light jog down the hall without a word. You followed him, “Where are you going?” You giggled, turning the corner to find him digging through your little Harry Potter closet under the stairs.

When he stood up, he shook his long hair out of his eyes messily and held up an old tape recorder that had to be at least twenty years old. Johnny swayed towards you, jokingly flirtatious as he spoke, “Well, Mrs. Depp, it would seem that you’re in luck because your husband likes to hoard old shit.”

The grey and black machine seemed to stare at you and some hesitation set in again but then you remembered what you’d said: I’m tired of living in fear… there’s not much else we’ve got to lose.

Johnny flicked open the side compartment and his eyes opened in surprise to find a tape still in there. He lifted it from the slide and looked it over, shocked to see that it appeared to be an unused blank tape, “Well, well, looks like we’re in luck.”

Biting your lip, you looked up at him with those eyes before grabbing his hand and running upstairs to your bedroom, dragging him along. “The world thinks they’ve seen us fuck. They only got a preview.”

“Only a preview? I thought we went pretty hard last time?” He countered with a low challenging laugh.

You turned around at the top of the stairs, one hand on the banister as you turned to face him. His body collided with yours, his hand reaching around the small of your back to steady the two of you and you arched your body into his, being sure to brush your body against his groin, “Oh, Johnny… we’re both throwing our backs out tonight.”

#Johnny Depp #johnny depp fanfic #John Shelby #johnny depp imagine #johnny depp imagines

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sassycassie-s-writing · 3 years

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My Favorite Smile

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one has a couple ✨swear words✨ in it lol. I don’t usually write them out, but sometimes you just gotta say what you mean)

Original Idea: X (Obsessed with this channel right now)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,182 words... it’s a longer one again. I casually wrote this in, like, two hours. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

Holding his coffee and croissant, Jason looked around the crowded café for a place to sit. Every table was occupied by at least one person, and the rules of personal space in public said the couches were full, with one person sitting on either end.

His eyes fell on a table with a single occupant.

His heart stuttered to a stop. Wait… is that her? Damn, she looks good this time. He scoffed at himself. Who am I kidding? She looks good every time. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her? She didn’t believe me last time… and I don’t know if I can stand another lifetime without her… but last life we didn’t meet till I was almost fifty. I really wasn’t expecting to find her this early.

He straightened up and strode over to her table. “Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? The café’s pretty crowded and the other tables are full.”

She looked up and Jason’s brain stopped working as she met his eyes. She was just as incredible as she always was. Thousands upon thousands of years, and he still never got over how beautiful she was. “Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile before going back to her phone.

—

“I’m Jason, by the way,” the man said, sitting down.

I glanced back up and gave him my name in return.

He smiled. He had a handsome smile. Just looking at him… something tugged in the back of my mind. “That’s a pretty name,” he said.

My ears warmed and I looked away. “Thanks,” I muttered. I looked back at him. “Sorry if this sounds… weird—but have we met before?” I cringed but smiled. If we had…oh it’d be so embarrassing if I’d forgotten him. And a man as handsome as him—how could I have forgotten?

But a look of delight crossed his face, before being replaced by one of neutrality. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied.

“Kind of an odd way to word it,” I remarked before I could overthink whether that sounded really rude or not.

Jason’s ears turned red. “Well… yeah I guess so. Sorry.” He looked down at his coffee cup and croissant and chose to take a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “This is probably gonna sound really creepy, but please just hear me out for a few minutes. Do you believe in soulmates?”

I reached up and scratched an itch just behind my ear. “I mean… kind of? I think maybe they exist for some people, and other people could be matched equally well with multiple potential partners,” I said.

His shoulders slouched with a sigh of what might have been relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. He met my eyes. “Because… we’re soulmates. You and I. Sometimes—very rarely—two people are so destined to be together, that they’re reborn over and over to stay together throughout thousands of years’ worth of lifetimes. Sometimes we both remember, sometimes only one of us does. I don’t think there’s ever been a lifetime where neither of us remember. Besides the first, I guess. Back when we didn’t know we’d be reborn. We never look the same twice—different bodies, different backgrounds. But we always have the same soul.”

A reasonable person would have thought he was making up a really long, bad pickup line. But I stared at him with rapt attention. Like some missing puzzle piece I’d been looking for my entire life fell into place. It just sounded… right.

“How do we find each other, if we look different every time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well… when one or both of us remember, we can… kind of sense it? Kind of see it? Like, right now, I see you, but I also see every face of yours that I’ve seen across every lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes we don’t. Find each other, I mean. The distance between where we’re born or the timing of our rebirths keep us apart. But there’s only been… three of those, if I remember right.” He laughed. “So glad you believed me this time. It would have sucked if you got a restraining order—because those are a thing now—and I had to spend this life without you.”

I leaned forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Tell me more,” I said.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Um… I don’t know. The beginning? Our first life?”

He nodded. “Ancient Greece,” he said. “Like, really early in Ancient Greece’s history. The gods blessed us. Bound our souls for eternity. Your hair is actually the same color now as it was back then. Kind of a… nostalgic favorite of mine. You’re absolutely stunning every time I see you, but I have some favorites. You do too.”

I snickered. “Oh really? Like what?”

“Well… I always think you’re adorable with dimples or freckles. Green eyes are a favorite of mine too. And your current hair color is my favorite. There were also a few times where you were a little taller than me. Those were nice. You’re most comfortable to hug that way. But, without fail, every single lifetime I see your smile and I think, ‘That one. That one’s my new favorite.’” He chuckled. “As for you, you’ve told me that you like me best with brown eyes—even though you don’t like brown eyes normally. Um… you also like it when my hair is curly.” He gestured to his black hair, slightly curled, with two white curls arcing down the center of his forehead. “You told me… seven lifetimes ago? That you like me best with piercings and tattoos, but when I brought it up last lifetime you said even when I have them I still look like, and I quote, a ‘giant nerd.’”

We both laughed. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“Then again, you said that was your favorite during our pirate lifetime. And I can also say hot damn you looked good with tattoos and a big hat.”

I gasped out a laugh. “We were pirates?”

He laughed too. “Yeah. Well, you were. To start with, anyway. You and your crew were visiting my town and you, absolutely drunk, stumbled into my house. I was a carpenter that time. Thank the gods we both remembered that lifetime or I probably would have shot you. You spent half the night drunkenly blathering about how much you hated my hair when it was long the way it was and that you’d cut it off if I didn’t. The next morning, when you’d sobered up, you apologized. And I’d said it was fine. And… you asked me to come with you. I’ve spent dozens of lifetimes endlessly in love with you. So, like the lovesick fool I am and was, I said yes.

“It… was not a long lifetime. Pirates rarely made it to old age. We were both killed when a Royal Navy ship attacked us. I went down first. You told me in our next lifetime that you single-handedly killed half of that crew’s sailors in revenge even though you knew you’d see me again—because you’d been having so much fun that life and they ruined it. Eventually their captain killed you himself.” He took a bite of his croissant.

It was certainly a lot to take in. But everything he said was so vivid… I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination coming up with the images or… memories that had merely been locked away somewhere deep inside. The sea. The deck of a ship. An octopus tattoo on my left forearm, tentacles reaching to the back of my hand, a similar one on his tanned, scarred neck. Curly auburn hair, a scruffy beard. Brown leather coat and blood under his nails. Pierced ear and eyebrow. A tattoo of a mermaid with a face and wild hair that I knew must have been mine on his right thigh as we found alone time together in my cabin—a pile of leather clothes in a heap on the floor, topped by a big hat with a big feather.

I met his eyes again. “Tell me about another one.”

He smiled. “Well… there was another time I was a soldier. You remembered. I didn’t. I passed through your town on my way to report for duty, and the weather got bad. Your family owned a tavern that doubled as an inn. So, that was where I stayed. You didn’t tell me. I fell in love with you anyway. You would tell me stories and sing for me and make me food in private. When the weather improved, I went off to war and, miraculously, I survived. Even though I spent most of my time that fight thinking about you. I came back to your inn and asked you to marry me. You said yes. We were married soon after. I had to leave a lot. Fighting battles I didn’t care about. Eventually, I came home injured and dying. You held my hand and promised you’d see me soon. I thought you meant heaven or just said it to comfort me. You never told me we were endlessly-reborn soulmates.

“When I was about fifteen my next lifetime, all my memories came back. We both remembered that time, actually. When we ran into each other again we got into such a big argument about you not telling me. Literally picked up right where we left off. Two twenty-year-olds bickering like the old married couple we were. The life after I don’t remember is always a bit of a wild ride as all my memories come back. I imagine it’s similar for you. It’ll be similar for you.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. I squeezed his fingers. Our hands fit together perfectly. I wondered why I’d told him I liked him best with brown eyes when his blue eyes were absolutely gorgeous. “So… what now?” I asked.

He made a face. “Beginnings are always hard when one of us doesn’t remember. Because I have thousands of years of love for you, and you don’t even know me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I’d like to take you out on a date, if you’ll let me.”

“Does it count as a first date?”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “It can. It does for this life.”

“Have we… ever had children? Together?”

Jason regarded me thoughtfully. “We have,” he said. “But our bloodlines never last long. Usually we’re lucky to get great-grandchildren. We’re blessed to be together forever, but our families die off quickly. You speculated once that it’s the blessing’s attempt to make sure we’re not reborn into our own bloodline.”

“So we have no living descendants.”

“No. It’d be a little weird if we did. Like ‘Hey, kiddo, you’re our great-great-great-grandson! I know we’re younger than you but trust us!’” Jason laughed.

I could get drunk on that laugh. “I’d… I’d like to go on that date.”

He looked elated—and relieved. “Me too. I’d like to get to know you again.” He glanced around the crowded café. “What do you say we get out of here and go somewhere quiet and I can tell you more stories about our lives? You’ve always been the far superior storyteller, but I learned from the best.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I want to hear everything.”

He helped me to my feet. I gathered my jacket, cup, and phone. “Great. I can’t wait to tell you about the time I was a magician.”

I giggled. “My place or yours?”

“Mine. I have a memento from our most recent past life that I tracked down. I’d like you to have it.”

“What is it?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Just held my hand as we left the café. Gotham’s overcast autumn sky was chilly. “I… I want it to be a surprise but I’m also too excited to tell you.” He bit his lower lip, staring at me. “Gah. Fine. It’s your wedding ring. I found it at an antique shop not far from where our oldest niece lived. We didn’t have any kids, last life. We didn’t meet till I was forty-nine and you were forty-three. We both decided it was too late for kids. But I had a few nieces and nephews. Our oldest niece was in charge of our estate. We died in the eighties. But I found your ring. You can use it again, eventually, if you want. Or we can get you a new one.” His face reddened. “I don’t mean to presume. But I don’t know if I can live without you this lifetime after having you for such a short time last life.”

I squeezed his hand. “Let’s try that first date first. I feel this pull toward you I can’t explain, but we’ll build up to the soulmate thing. Okay?” I smiled at him.

—

Jason couldn’t help but stare at her. Those eyes, that stunning face. This one, he thought. This smile is my favorite.

#My Favorite Smile #Jason Todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #Red Hood #red hood imagine #red hood fanfiction #DC #DC imagine #dc fanfiction #BatFam #batfam imagine #batfam fanfiction

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emilysshortstories · 3 years

Text

Steven Meeks Part 2

Still haven’t thought of a title but I’m liking this story so lets just roll with it. Also if someone could teach me how to put in a continue reading thing I would love you.

Words: 1607

Warnings: a bit of a love triangle? clique plot points?

My alarm clock blaring through my ears abruptly woke me up. 6:oo AM it read for I had to get ready early and stop by all my teachers' classrooms before classes actually started. They had to give me my course work for the week and I had to complete daily assignments and turn them in at the end of the day. I had the same deadlines as anyone else, just got my course work early. My old highschool was a similar format so I was used to this, just not used to waking up so goddamn early. At least this is only on Monday’s. I had United States History, Earth Science, Trigonometry, and Latin to get to before 8 o’clock. My uncle said he will explain everything to me in his classroom at 2, so I didn’t have to worry about english at least.

Now I see why everyone that gets through this school is a fucking genuious. I have not one but two history textbooks, I have to read a chapter a day in one of them and the other I have to read and complete all the questions for a chapter every other day. I have to do a chapter, with questions, everyday in Earth science. For Trig I read a chapter Monday and Wednesday, complete a sheet of 25 questions Tuesday and Thursday, and then have a test every Friday. I was given 30 words to memorize by Friday for Latin. Yes, I’ll have a test in latin every Friday as well. At least I know my uncle isn’t a sadist and won’t give me or his students an excessive amount of work.

I carried all four of my textbooks and school work outside with a large towel. I figured if I don’t have to be stuck in a classroom and can complete my course work on my own time, might as well make the most of it and do it in the sun away from everyone. I have 4 hours before I have to be at my uncle's classroom, so let's see how much of this crap I can get done.

I was done with history and just started the questions for Earth Science when I heard the school bell, signaling the 15 minute passing period. Not thinking anything of it I continued my work, that is until the sun was suddenly hidden from me. “Hey Charlie, what’s going on?” I asked, looking around to see 6 other boys behind him, including ‘Steven the red head’. My smile grew as we made eye contact. “I was about to ask the same thing, what you working on?” Charlie asked me, crouching down to sit next to me with the rest of his pose following suit. “Earth science, I got all my coursework for the week this morning so I’m just going through what’s due at the end of the day”. “Sounds boring to me, but if you ever need help, meeks is the genius of this school”. Charlie said as he pointed to Steven. “I thought your name was Steven?” I asked, turning to face him.

“What?” he said, sounding surprised at something.

“I thought your name was Steven, at least that’s what your father called you when we first met”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do, so why Meeks?”

“It’s his last name” - “It’s my last name” both Charlie and Meeks said at the same time, which made me laugh a bit.

“What do you personally prefer though?” I asked.

“Meeks.” He said very abruptly compared to his previous tone.

“Okay, Meeks it is then, although I don’t make any promises to not call you Stevie when I’m teasing you.” I say trying to lighten the mood, everyone was just too quiet. “So you going to introduce me to the rest of your boy band Charlie?”

“Sure. This is Knox Overstreet, Todd Anderson, Neil Perry, Gerald Pitts, and Richard Cameron.” This made me burst out in laughter, “Your name is Dick Cam??” I asked, this being the funniest thing I’ve heard all week, but the question made everyone start to giggle as well. Everyone but Cameron of course, who just turned as red as his hair and walked away. “Oh I’m just teasing!” I yelled as he walked, “Sorry!!” I yelled louder, hoping he heard me. “I didn’t mean to offend, I'm sorry” I say to Charlie, actually feeling quite bad. “No! That was the best thing I’ve heard in my life, how did we not notice that?” Charlie asked the boys, but no one replied, they just kept laughing. Everyone but Meeks, who was looking down at the ground and playing with a corner of my towel.

“Is my towel more interesting than my joke there Stevie?” I ask and shuffle a little closer to him while the other boys separate into their own conversation. Good.

“N-no, I was laughing I promise-”

“I’m just messing with you- Stevie”

“Right” said with a sigh and a long pause. “Charlie was right though, you can always ask for help if you need it, even if I can’t help you I’ll point you to someone who can.” he said so fast I barely understood.

“Thank you , I really appreciate that.” I smiled at him, hoping that would calm his nerves. “You guys don’t really see a lot of girls going to a school like this do you?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well I come in peace I promise. Even if my jokes can seem a bit pointed at times.”

We both looked up at each other and held eye contact, much like the moment we first met. Yet this time it was deeper, like we understood what we were trying to say to another without having to come out and say it. I hoped he could see how much I liked him and would do something about it, but our moment was rudely interrupted by the school bell.

“Alright, time to go back to prison.” Charlie said, standing up, the boys following suit once again. Every boy but Meeks. “I-I-I’ll see you around Y/N” he said. “What time do you have English?” I asked a little too suddenly. “We all have it at 2” Charlie answered for him, ‘goddamnit let him answer his own questions man.’ “Great, my uncle told me to stop by his classroom at that time, so I’ll see you then” I said with a smile, only looking at Meeks, hoping to not only make eye contact again but also get Charlie to get the hint. “Bye” Meeks said to me. “Bye”.

It’s hard to focus on Earth Science after that, but I tried my best and actually finished all my questions and my trig chapter by the time 1:45 rolled around. Getting up, gathering up all my stuff, and heading to his class. I had my paperwork in my hands underneath the textbooks, with the towel draped on top, slightly obstructing my vision. “Fuck” I said as I reached the english building doors. Going outside was easy when all I had to do to open the doors was lean against them, but now that I was faced with a handle bar I had to pull. This was proving to be a lot more difficult than I had initially anticipated. Trying to balance everything into my left arm, I reached out my fingers to grasp the door, too scared to move my whole arm, and moving my towel into my chest with my chin so I can see what I’m doing. Even that didn’t work unfortunately as my towel fell to the ground. Closing my eyes and heaving a deep sigh, only to open them and see Meeks picking up my towel. “Thank you” I said thinking he was going to put the towel back on the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but started to blush when he draped it over his own shoulders and opened the door for me. I walked through the door- “Here” Meeks said from my left before taking two of my three textbooks out of my hands. “Thank you, that’s really sweet of you” I said, impressed with how kind he was. “No problem, I can help you take these to your room before two is you need?” he asked, now being able to look me in my face without books in the way. “Thanks, yeah it's just right in here through Mike’s office.” I said, leading the way, hearing Meeks chuckle behind me. “What?” I asked, turning around. “Nothing, just I’ve never heard anyone call Mr. Keating ‘Mike’ before”. “Oh, sorry about that, to me he will always be uncle Mike”. “That’s okay, I liked it”.

We walked in silence to my room where Meeks set my books down on my desk. “We should get to class, I have no idea what my uncle has planned” I said. “Okay”. ‘Not a man of many words, endearing.’

“All of you know my niece, Y/N. Mr. Nolan said that she wouldn’t be attending any classes but seeming that I plan to listen to opinions and presentations, so giving her a bunch of paperwork really wouldn’t be the best idea. So she will be joining this class, any questions? No, okay good now let's go.” My uncle preached before just waltzing out of the classroom. I knew he wanted me to follow him but the others who didn’t know how my uncle can be just seemed confused. So I said “That means he wants us to follow him” and I walked out of the classroom on the same path as my, sometimes strange, uncle Mike.

#DPS #DPS fandom #dps fanfiction #steven meeks #steven meeks x reader #knox overstreet #charlie dalton #charlie dalton x reader #Richard Cameron #dick cam #Neil Perry #todd anderson #gerald pitts #mr keating

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writingblock101 · 4 years

Text

Doctor’s Orders (Jason Todd x Reader)

Yeah, so this wasn’t the next request. I wrote this in the notes of my phone (it was suppose to be a few lines of dialog oops) then I was going to wait to post it until after I finished the request, but then I was really unhappy with how the last Duke request came out so I wanted to give y’all something I was actually happy with. Enjoy!

Word count: 1300

Warnings: Got a little horny on the main, but kept it low key cause I wanted it to be gender neutral.

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013 @incrediblysadstudent (I wanted to tag you in a fic I was actually happy with but bless you for reblogging the last one!)

You walk into your apartment but immediately groan at the sight of Jason slumped on the floor, under your window. He's holding his side, meaning he's bleeding...again.

"Jason, this is the third time this week you've tried to bleed out on my living room floor," You whine, crossing the room to squat in front of him.

He chuckles weakly.

"Old habits die hard."

"Yeah, so do dumbasses with very little self preservation," You mutter, pulling his jacket back to examine the wound. "You need better armor."

"I'm on a budget," He argues with a grimace.

"Your dad is Batman," You roll your eyes. "I'm sure he can spare a few dollars if it means his dumbass son won't bleed out on some poor nurse's floor."

"I think he'll be more focused on the nurse than on my corpse," Jason grins then winces as you prod at the bullet wound.

"Please tell me you can walk," You beg. “Because there is no way in hell I can carry you to my bathroom."

"Not with that attitude," Jason bites.

You blink, a small smile trying to force its way into your face.

"Are you using my own line against me?"

"I hope to use a lot more than just a line against you," He winks.

You roll your eyes again, and pull Jason's arm over your shoulder then shift your weight, ready to stand.

"Alright, we're going to stand on three, you ready?"

Jason grimaces then braces his hand on the window sill.

"One, two, three," Jason groans in pain and you clench your teeth under the weight but push with your legs more and are able to stand with Jason weighing down on you.

"Wow," He grins weakly. "You work out?"

"Shut up," You mutter, slowly guiding him to the bathroom.

Luckily, Jason is using you more as a crutch than you actually lifting him. He seems lucid so clearly he hasn’t lost too much blood, he just needs some guidance.

"With an ass like that, you clearly don't skip leg day," Jason continues, his hand slides down your back to grab your butt.

"Jason," You sigh, trying to maneuver him through the doorway.

"It's that college drop out music, every day leg day she be too thick," Jason sings.

"Will you stop flirting with me while you're actively bleeding out?" You snap with no real heat while lowering Jason onto the toilet lid.

"Does this mean I can hit on you once you stitch me up?" He asks hopefully.

You sigh again, pulling out your first aid kit.

"Sure. I think two years of dating has earned you that right."

"Good," Jason grins as you help him pull his jacket and shirt off. "Cause what fun is it to have a hot nurse if you don't get to let them know?"

"I can think of a lot of things," You mutter, cleaning away the wound.

"You're right!" He exclaims. "Role play."

"Oh my gosh," You roll your eyes again with a small smile as a blush works it way into your cheeks.

"You're blushing!" Jason exclaims. "You're into it!" He drops his voice to the one you've dubbed his "Red Hood" voice. "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

You're truly ashamed at the shiver his low voice sends down your spine but you regain your composure as you prepare your sutures.

"What did I say about flirting with me while you're bleeding out?!"

"Sorry," Jason grins with an completely unapologetic smile. His voice drops again. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You shiver again, feeling heat pool in the last place you want heat pooling when you're about to stitch someone up.

"Stop it!" You snap, leaning forward to start stitching up Jason.

"Sorry, baby," He pulls you closer by your hips into a long, heated kiss. "But you just do things to me," Jason growls against your lips, his voice dropping again.

You nearly moan, melting into the kiss, then remember you are in fact holding a needle and pull away.

"Jason! We're talking five minutes to stitch you up!"

He grins again, and even soaked with sweat, and covered in blood, he's still so damn handsome (hell, you might argue that the blood and sweat are what add to the effect, but you're not going to admit that to anybody.)

"I'll let you work," He holds his hands up innocently. "But I can't promise I'll keep my hands to myself after," The look he gives you is downright sinful.

"Yeah," You mutter, leaning forward and stitching the wound together. "Well, you're not going to be able to do much with your stitches."

"Good thing I've got someone to help me out," Jason brings his hands back to your hips and kisses the side of your head.

It takes a single glare for him to grin at you unapologetically again.

"Sorry."

"Uh huh, sure you are," You roll your eyes.

"Trust me, baby, if you could see what I see every day, you'd get my inability to keep my hands to myself," He pulls on you again, his voice lowering to a growl again.

"I thought I banned you from flirting with me while stitching to up," You mutter, pulling tight on one of the stitches.

"Can't help it, gorgeous," Jason kisses your neck, making you shiver again. "You make me lose my self control."

He kisses your neck again, making you shiver and close your eyes for a moment. He's about to make you lose your self control too. You breathe in sharply, and snap your eyes open, and hone in on threading the last stitch.

"There!" You declare, securing gauze and tape over Jason's fresh stitches.

He immediately lifts you by your thighs and pins you to the wall, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

"Started thinking about you on patrol," Jason growls in his low voice. "About how I can't wait to have you under me, moaning my name," He begins to suck a hickey on your neck.

You moan softly, knotting your fingers into his hair, and your legs around his waist.

"I want you sprawled out on the sheets, begging and desperate," He continues, biting lightly where your neck and shoulder meet. "I want to feel your fingers in my hair, your nails scratching down my back," Jason thrusts against you, showing how hard he is. "You feel that?" He murmurs to you.

"Yeah," You respond breathlessly.

"That's all for you, baby," Jason growls back. "Do you have any fucking clue what you to do me?"

"I might need a demonstration," You reply, grinding down against Jason.

His hand slips into your pants. You groan, your head hitting the wall, his fingers moving in all the right ways, stroking, rubbing. Jason leans back from his spot against your neck to watch your facial expressions as he speeds his movements up. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you gasp.

"Open your eyes, baby," He murmurs to you.

You manage to force your eyes open, and lean forward to rest against his forehead.

"Jason," You moan shakily.

"That's right," He murmurs. "I want to hear you," Jason kisses you again, your mouth going slack against him.

He slows his movements, making you whine.

"Jay," You beg, grinding into his hand.

"Something wrong, baby doll?" Jason grins, leaning forward to pepper more kisses down your neck.

"Please," You beg, grinding against him. "I need you."

Jason pulls you into another long kiss.

"Well, since you asked so nicely, why don't we move this to the bedroom so I can show you my gratitude."

He carries you to the bedroom and sets you on the bed before crawling over you, and boxing you in with his huge form. Jason gives you another long kiss as his warm hands run under your shirt. As your fingers curl back into his hair, pulling him closer to you, you don't care about his stitches reopening, especially if it means you'll get to ride Jason. You suppose being Red Hood's nurse has it perks.

I don’t know why it’s been hard to motivate myself to write, but I promise that Damian request is coming soon! Hope y’all liked my blackbear reference.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #red hood #smut #jason todd smut #red hood smut #i'm telling you these boys need to date nurses #this is really are you fucking kidding me but with sex #dc #DC comics #dc fanfiction #nurse!reader #gender nuetral #tw gore #a little bit

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im-hqlover · 4 years

Text

alternative ending

A/n - arranged marriage/royal AU chapter 2 alternative ending =)

=-=-=-=-=-=

[...]

But even though the party was over, that night wasn’t over yet. I go to my room, it was obvious that was going to happen, so the only thing I could do was try to get ready for that, right?

But I didn’t know exactly what to do now, should I go to his room the way I’m now? Should I shower and put on some comfortable clothes or sexy clothes? I mean, I didn’t even know if I had any clothes for that moment. I looked through all my bags for something that was good, but I sighed in frustration when I couldn’t find something good enough. Well, I guess I should use whatever I like, shouldn’t I? And it’s not like he’s going to run from me, at least I hoped it wouldn’t.

I took a hot shower and when I left I put on shorts along with a tight tank, it might not be a very sexy outfit, but I think it was better than nothing, isn’t it? I even thought about putting on a bra for a brief moment, but fuck it, I wasn’t going to use this to sleep, especially when, well, if that was really going to happen, it’s one less thing, isn’t it?

I dry and comb my hair, letting my hair down. I stop and think what I would put on my feet, I hesitated for a moment, but I put on my dear slippers, and oh, how nice it was to wear something comfortable.

I look at myself in the mirror in my room, everything will be fine, I have to calm down. I sigh nervously before going to the door and leaving my room, now I had another problem, where the hell was his bedroom? And would he be there? When one of the servants passed by me, I decide to stop him and ask him.

- Huh, excuse me sir, but could you tell me where Prince Jason’s bedroom is?

- Of course, princess y/n, follow me.

The sir who guided me seemed to be in his 50s or 60s, but I couldn’t say for sure, he had gray hair, but I think his hair was once black, and his eyes were a light blue. He guided me through that giant place until we got to a door, which I assumed was Jason’s room.

- We arrived princess, feel free. - He spoke and did a little reverence.

- Huh, thank you. - I tell him before he leaves. I look at the door and I’m hesitant, I could feel the butterflies in my stomach and my whole body trembling, because of jitters and a little cold too. I take a deep breath and knock on the door to get it over with.

- Who is it? - I hear his voice, he seemed to be a little angry for some reason, and of course, it didn’t improve my situation.

- I-it’s me, y / n.

- Huh… ok, you can come in. - He said in a softer voice than before.

I open the door to his room and when I enter I realize that he was undoing his tie, he must have arrived there shortly. Jason lifts his head and starts looking at me, and I can feel my face heat up.

- Hum, do you need anything? - He clears his throat, but even though I wasn’t looking at him, I could feel his gaze on me.

How was I going to say that? Hey! Time to have sex isn’t it? Why else do you think I would be here in your room wearing these clothes? But of course, I didn’t have the courage to say that. I bite my lips for a moment before I answer him.

- You know. - I say as I close the door behind me.

- Got it. - There was a moment of awkward silence between the two of us, what was I supposed to do? Talk to him? Kiss him? To be honest, the only thing I really wanted to do at that moment was to sleep since it had been days since I had adequate sleep, let’s say sleeping in a carriage is not the best thing in the world.

- Are you sure you want to do this? - He asks me after some time, he approaches me, but there was still a distance between us.

- That’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? - Jason takes a deep breath and seems to think a lot about what he would say.

- Look, let’s be frank here. It’s just the two of us now, we don’t have to pretend to be happy now just to please those fucking nobles. - His voice starts to get angry again, which made me shrink a little. - It doesn’t depend on them, it depends on both of us, and if you don’t want that, you don’t have to.

I look at him for a moment, then look away again.

- You… won’t you… make me do this?

- Of course not! I don’t know what the fuck you heard about me, but believe me, I would never do that. - In a way I feel a little more relieved to hear that. - We don’t need to do this if you don’t want to.

I was silent thinking about what I could answer.

- And you… don’t want that?

- No. I mean, yes, of course I would, but not in that forced way, and not because of other people.

- I understand. - I can feel tears filling my eyes, but I don’t know exactly why, maybe they were relief? or maybe from all the stress I went through? I don’t know. But I held on so they wouldn’t fall, I didn’t want him to see me cry.

- I need to shower now. But if you want, we can talk later, like two normal people. - He said while taking some wardrobe clothes and a bath towel, and so he went into the bathroom.

My heart was still beating very fast, and that feeling of butterflies in my stomach continued, I let my tears fall and then wipe it away. I had to put together myself, I breathe calmly and I sit on his bed, which was very comfortable, I thought about maybe lying down a little bit because of my back pain, but I knew that if I did that I would end up sleeping, and I wanted to stay awake so I could talk to Jason.

A few minutes pass before Jason comes out of the bathroom wearing only sweatpants and drying his hair with the towel, and maybe I was looking at his body, I couldn't help me looking at his body, and well, he was very hot I had to admit, I look away when he looks at me, damn it, of course he realized that I was looking at him, and now I feel that my entire face must be red as a pepper.

Jason seemed a little hesitant to sit on the bed, but he sits next to me, even though that "next" was some distance between us, he seemed to start talking, but he didn't know how, and neither did I. I took a deep breath, remembering Roy's words, and I started to say:

- So... my name is y/n l/n, how about you? - I say looking at Jason, who gives a small smile.

- My name is Jason Todd-Wayne, it's a pleasure to meet you y / n.

- Nice to meet you, Jason. - I answer smiling at him. - How was your day?

He chuckles and looks at the bedroom door, before looking at me again.

- It was very tiring and exhausting. I had meetings all day, then I had to defend the village that was being invaded by bandits, I had to go after a runaway princess and then prepare for a wedding.

I laugh at the runaway princess, since he was clearly referring to me.

- Wait, were you there?

- Of course, I was the one who brought you to the castle, didn't you know?

- Were you the red knight?

- I thought it was obvious.

- Well, maybe I didn't pay attention. - I say looking at my slippers. We were both silent again, until Jason broke the silence.

- How was your day? - I take a deep breath, remembering all the things that had happened that day.

- It was… one of the most tiring and stressful days of my life, First, because of a long carriage ride to the kingdom of Gotham, and when I arrived I soon had to get ready for my wedding, but I thought it was a good idea to visit the village a little to enjoy my last moments of freedom, what I didn't know is that bandits would attack the village and I would almost be trampled by a horse and would have a sword pointed at me, but luckily a mysterious red knight came and saved me, and when I thought I would be free, the mysterious knight somehow recognized me and took me to the castle. - Jason laughed and I took a breath. - Then I had to get ready for my wedding, and then marry someone I had never seen in my life, and who, at first I thought he was someone very bad, but... I think he isn't as bad as I thought he was. - I look at Jason and he smiles at me.

- Well, I'm glad you think that.

We were both silent again, until I asked him.

- What did they tell you about me? - I say curious, but he looks at me in a not very good way.

- You won't like to hear. - He said turning his face.

- Is it that bad?

- At first it was, but then Roy convinced me to try to ignore it, and he said that what you knew about me was also not good, so it was good that I at least tried to show that I was different from those rumors and give you a chance too.

- Wait, how did he already know that what I knew were not good things about you? - Jason shrugged and then lay down on the bed.

- I don't know, he didn't tell me.

- This is strange... - I remain sitting there on the end of the bed, until I turn around so I can see Jason. - But then... am I different from what people told you?

- Much. - I sigh with relief, even though I didn't know what they said about me, it was good to know that I was different from that.

I rub my eyes and yawn, I didn't know how much longer I could stay awake, but I wanted to continue talking to Jason, and maybe I wanted to stay in his bed as it looked much better than the bed in my room, and there was another detail, I had no idea how to get to my room again, I look at my feet and take the courage to ask Jason.

- I ... could I sleep here today? You know, even if we don’t do that, but in a way it could fool people and make them think we did it. - Well, that wasn't a complete lie, since people might think that, and even though it was weird to sleep next to someone you barely know, but it was better than everyone knowing that we didn't have sex.

- If you want, feel free. Especially because, we are married, in a way, everything that is mine is yours.

I nod before getting up and turning out the light and then lying on the bed.

- Since we are going to sleep in the same bed, I think you should know two things: 1. I move a lot while sleeping. 2. Sometimes I can end up snoring.

- Okay. - He smiled at me. - So it looks like we're in the same boat.

- Actually, in the same bed. - He laughs and nods, before turning his back to me, and I do the same, I cover myself with the warm blankets and it wasn't long before I fell into a deep sleep.

=-=-=-=-=

Masterlist

#Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood x reader #Jason Todd #Red Hood #arranged marriage AU #arranged marriage #royal Au

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 5 years

Text

Three AM, Aching and Tender

A Jason Todd x reader oneshot

the title is a bit fucked, but my inspiration ran out, so here we are

warnings for a character getting triggered, and also SMUT

*edited because I added a tag and tumblr decided that meant it could delete the whole fucking post

***

Jason aches.

Aches. All over, everywhere. He aches, and he’s so, so tired. Standing in the dark hallway in front of his apartment door, he can almost feel the exhaustion enveloping him, a physical wave threatening to pull him under as he fights for lucidity. He’s got the achy sort of tired that comes from a mission, a deadening of senses that just spent hours of hyper-alert, of muscles that were overstretched and overused. Half his body seems to be twinging lightly, sending minor flashes of pain that glimmer faintly in his soup-slow brain that’s doing it’s damndest to focus up enough to unlock his fucking flat.

The weariness is so pronounced that he couldn’t be bothered to enter his apartment like a proper vigilante and had walked in the building’s front door. He isn’t too worried, it’s 3:15am and the streets outside are nearly deserted. Besides, Babs has alerts on all CCTV cameras two miles in every direction, she’d scrub the footage if any of them caught the Red Hood waltzing into a building like he lived there.

After digging through his pockets for a few seconds, Jason gets his keys out and unlocks his door, flicking on the living room light. He sets his rucksack on the floor by the kitchen island, running the zipper down and taking out the few sets of dirty clothes from the top of the bag, putting them aside to wash later. He’d packed light for the two-week job with Roy and Kory.

Frustration edges in on the exhaustion lightly fogging his mind as he thinks over the mission itself. The drug sting on Santa Prisca had taken out some major players, but on their way out Roy got hit by some trigger happy idiot. Jason and Kory had had to perform emergency first aid on the helicopter ride off the island. It was touch and go for a bit, but eventually they’d dug the bullets of out his shoulder and thigh, and Kory cauterized the wound with her powers. Jason was taping gauze over her handiwork not twenty minutes ago. Roy will end up with two new scars and nothing more, but it wasn’t exactly how Jason preferred to end his missions.

He sighs, trying to push the days’ events from his mind. Giving himself a shake, he starts stripping down, taking off his helmet and body armor and placing them on the countertop, a tarp he’d laid down keeping his kitchen clean. His guns and miscellaneous other weapons, knives and the occasional batarang, make their way onto the tarp as well. Once he’s down to his pants and undershirt he surveys the counter, wondering what he can get away with just wiping down with disinfectant and what he’s going to have to soak in bleach overnight. As he eyes a particularly grimy blade a noise makes his way out of his bedroom. He doesn’t have to guess at what it is, and sure enough you appear a moment later, wearing an overlarge t shirt and hair mussed from sleep.

He grunts in your direction, mood still black from Roy’s close call. “Hey. You didn’t have to get up.”

“S’okay.” You softly pad over and take a seat on one of the barstools ringing the island. Neither of you say anything for a bit, silence stretching comfortably as you watch him in that even way of yours while he cleans and puts away his gear.

It still makes him pause, seeing you in his kitchen like this. This isn’t the first time you’ve graced his apartment in the early morning hours, kitchen light flickering over your head. You’d stayed over a few times since Jason had started sort-of-dating you a month and a half ago. He had actually handed you the keys when he left for Santa Prisca, you had asked if you could crash at his place while your landlord fumigated your apartment. He knows you’ve been here for two weeks, and you seem comfortable enough in his space, but Jason doesn’t think he’ll get used to moments like these. To having you here, clock ticking low while you huddle up on his barstool, streetlights outside bouncing through the window and shining hazy light on your skin.

In the month and a half that he’s known you, you’ve proven soft and sweet. Can you really fit into the seedy grooves of his life? He’s admiring you while he cleans his fucking guns at three in the morning for chrissakes, do you really belong here? Stills of you in his apartment drift across his brain, he imagines you having breakfast here in the morning, cleaning your teeth in front of his bathroom mirror, laying in his bed with your head resting on his pillow. Can he really have you like this?

Six weeks since Tim introduced you, and Jason still feels uneasy with these moments of quietness stillness, of just being together. He likes spending time with you and he’s happy you’re seeing each other, but Jason feels like he’s missing a trick, here. Something isn’t right. Maybe that’s the problem, not whether you belong in his life at all. It’s that something’s out of place with the two of you, with your relationship, if he can call it that. You text back and forth often enough, you go on dates, you fuck, but something doesn’t sit well with him. Maybe it’s that, for all the time you spend together, neither of you have actually ponied up and admitted some real feelings. It’s almost as though you’re settling into a routine of a long relationship before you’ve put in any of the grunt work, before you’ve run the risk of being vulnerable with each other. The two of you are groping blindly in the dark, hoping the other person feels the same way but never reaching out to confirm it, only to be pleasantly surprised when you bump into each other, wordlessly. It’s setting his teeth on edge, because it’s pretty clear to him that he likes you, and quite a bit more than a lot. He’s not great with emotions, hasn’t been since the pit and even before that, but he’s getting the sense that this thing with you might be starting to brush up against something big. He just doesn’t know what to do about it.

“How’d the job go?” your voice is a murmur in the dim light. For all his misgivings about whether his life can fit someone like you, you’re still choosing to sit next to his vigilante gear with no comment. On your second date, you had dropped the bomb that you know about his nightlife, and for a split-second Jason had frozen, ready to wallop Tim for clueing you in, or at the very least ignore his calls for a few weeks. Before he could even open his mouth to deny it, you told him you’d figured it out from Tim’s schedule back in college. It didn’t take a genius to make the leap from Tim to Bruce Wayne and his brood.

Jason knows you’re hazy on the details about his death and then non-death, but he isn’t in any hurry to bring you up to speed. He’s quietly grateful that you haven’t pressed.

He sets a gun down, stifling a wince at the sight of blood on the muzzle. You know about his night gig and his methods, sure, but there’s a difference between knowing and seeing blood coating a deadly firearm. A quick glance in your direction reveals that you don’t seem disgusted or repelled at all. He’s not even sure you’ve noticed it, from where he stands it looks like you’re keeping your gaze on him. You’ve drawn your knee up to your chest and are resting your chin on it, eyes wide and open as you wrap your arms around your bent leg.

Jason takes a deep breath, thinking on how to answer your question about the mission. He wants to grunt his way out of this and into the shower so he can wash the day off him, but your sweet concern deserves at least a response. Squeezing his eyes shut, he says “the sting went okay, but on the way out Roy got hit in a few nasty places.” He hears you shift in your seat. “Oh no, is he alright?”

He starts to shrug a bit as he opens his eyes. “He’ll be okay, but performing emergency surgery while under fire was—”

The last word comes out clipped and awkward as Jason catches sight of the shirt you’re wearing. You’d brought your leg down to the chair, leaving your chest open. Now he can see the shirt properly, and his gut sinks as he realizes that it’s his, that it’s one of his old ones from before, one of the ones Dick gifted to him while he was still Robin, while he was still with Bruce. His body turns stiff as his eyes trace the faded Haley’s Circus logo. Jason remembers admiring it every time a teenage Dick Grayson wore it around the manor, remembers admiring the teenage Dick Grayson himself, and his throat goes tight. Memories of who Bruce used to be to him, of what he used to be to Bruce, flood his mind and he finds he aches in a different way, more urgent, as the past takes over.

“Jay?” you ask, and there’s no way you could have missed that, the way his body locked down. “Is everything okay?” You’re moving again, hands braced on the counter like you’re about to get up and go over to him, which is the last thing he wants right now.

He can feel old defense mechanisms whirring into place. “What are you wearing?” he says, voice curt, instead of answering.

“What?” You glance down at yourself. “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to bring something to sleep in so I just—”

“Where did you get that shirt?” Somewhere in his brain Jason feels guilty for making you recoil like that, but it’s lost to the wash of anger that had welled up so suddenly.

“I—I found it in your drawer, I’m sor—”

“So you were snooping through my stuff?” What is he doing, what is he doing? He doesn’t care if you went through his fucking sock drawer, why can’t he stop lashing out at you? But he knows why.

“No, of course I wasn’t snooping, I… I just,” you’re stammering in confusion. “I didn’t know the shirt was…I can go change if you want?” you offer, trying to placate him.

Jason takes a deep breath, trying desperately to get back in control of himself. He thought he was past this, he thought he was past turning into a crazed jackass any time Bruce pre...pre-Death came up, but apparently not.

“Jay?” You say quietly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he abruptly turns around, facing his back to you. “Just,” he manages to grunt out, “just give me a second.” This isn’t their fault, he hisses in his brain, they don’t deserve his temper. Flailing about, he finally remembers a breathing exercise Dick taught him years ago. Breathe in one two three four out one two three four five. In one two three four, out one two three four five. After about a minute or two, he feels in control again.

“No,” he says out loud, turning around to face you again, anger leaving him in an exhale. “No, you don’t have to change.” The tired ache slowly creeps back in. “I’m sorry, doll, I shouldn’t’ve gotten angry at you, that wasn’t cool.”

“It’s okay,” you say after a moment. Your shoulders don’t relax from where they’re bunched up around your neck, though, and Jason wants to kick himself.

“Seriously,” he says instead. “You’re fine, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who was wrong for shouting at you.” He needs to make it clear to you that he knows he was out of line, and that there hopefully won’t be a repeat performance of this. “It’s not even about you, it’s just…” He sighs. “Dick gave me that shirt, before. When I was, you know…”

“Still with Bruce,” you supply for him. That was much nicer than ‘When I was still on life number one,’ which is what Jason had been thinking. “Oh, Jay, I’m so sorry, if I had known…” and the compassion in your gaze is so bright he almost wants to take a step back. “You couldn’t’ve,” he says instead, because of course it wasn’t your fault. “It just took me by surprise, is all.”

You nod. “I understand.” And you don’t, not really, but he appreciates the effort. "I can try to be more...aware of stuff like that, in the future."

And Jason wants to say 'don't worry about it,' but what comes out instead is "thank you."

After a few moments of silence, Jason picks up the dirty gun and gets back to work, glancing at you worriedly every few moments. Your eyes follow him for a while, bright and sharp, but eventually you stretch your arms over your head and leave the chair. Jason expects you to go back to bed, and half wonders whether he should offer to take the couch, especially after what just happened, but instead you step into the living room and sit on the sofa, legs stretched out over his coffee table.

Jason cleans and stows the rest of his gear, washes his hands, and wipes down the countertop for good measure before collapsing onto the couch next to you. You turn your head to look at him. Your hackles are still up, and Jason feels sick with himself. “Are you sure you’re okay, doll?” He asks. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“No, no, it’s okay, I promise.” You flash him a smile, quick and dry, but he notices some of the tension leave you. “So I, um,” you clear your throat, eyes darting away from his. “I really missed you, while you were away.” You hold his gaze then, drawing your lower lip into your mouth, which always drives him a little crazy.

He’s bad at this feelings stuff, he knows he is, which is why he surprises himself when the words “I really missed you, too,” roll off his tongue, easy as anything.

Your lips curve into another smile, syrup-slow this time. He’s momentarily stunned, and when you bring that smile closer to him and peck him on the lips, he has to remind himself to kiss back.

Jason thinks you’ll stop after a minute, and it surprises him when you don’t. Instead, you let a soft sight escape and tilt your head for a better angle, licking sweet into this mouth. He’s not complaining, Jason loves kissing you, so he follows your lead and brings a hand to your waist. You hum when he does, and press yourself closer to him, almost climbing into his lap. Jason’s never been one to miss an opportunity, so he grabs you by the hips and pulls you squarely onto his thighs.

The movement startles you enough that you break from his lips, panting slightly as you reorient yourself. “Hi,” you say, still catching your breath. “Hi,” he answers, then surges up slightly to kiss you again. It’s filthier this time, your breath coming fast as you wind your arms around his neck and start running your fingers through his hair. Jason loves it when you do this, loves feeling your small hands make their way over his scalp. Any remaining tiredness flees in the face of his slow-building arousal. How can he be tired when he’s got your ass in both hands?

When he squeezes lightly you exhale into his mouth and roll your hips against his. “Naughty, naughty,” he murmurs in your ear, smiling against it. “Don’t worry, I know how to make you feel good.”

Your triumphant smile catches him off-guard. “I know you do, baby,” you purr, placing your lips at the juncture of his neck.

His instincts ping lightly. You’re grinning like you’ve won something, or something has gone right. Jason thinks for a second, remembering your soft, too-innocent step out of the bedroom, hair perfectly out of place, at almost the exact moment he came home. This setup seems too good to be true, or at least unplanned. He reaches under your borrowed shirt and confirms his suspicions: you’re not wearing any underwear.

“You were after this the whole time, weren’t you?” You pull back and oh, your grin is wicked, lips cherry-red and glistening. In retaliation, Jason snakes a hand up your chest and pinches your left nipple, lightning-fast. The soft “oh!” you make in surprise is entirely worth it.

“This whole time, you just wanted to get in my pants?”

“Guilty.” There’s a smirk in your voice as you roll your hips again. “You don’t sound too upset about it,” you tease, and you must feel his hardening cock through his pants.

He’s not upset, but he can’t resist the opportunity to tease you a bit more. “That’s what the shirt was about, wasn’t it?” God, it’s so hard to make fun of you when you’re squirming in his lap. “You were trying to do that thing where you wear someone else’s clothing and they find it really sexy and all?”

You slow down there, stop rolling your hips. Shame coats your face as you direct your eyes at the floor. “Jay, I’m so sorry.”

Your shame doesn’t belong here, and Jason’s quick to ease it away. “It’s okay, doll.” He tugs the offending shirt off, tossing it carelessly to the side. “Besides, I happen to prefer you like this.”

You’re a sight to see. Completely naked, sitting pretty on his lap, and fixing him with a look he finds almost challenging. He wants to wipe it off, so he brings his left hand back to your breast, and this time his palm meets skin.

Your eyes flutter shut. “You ‘happen to prefer me like this,’ hmm?” you murmur, arching your back into his grip. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Oh, I think you can,” Jason says slyly, but you’re not listening, you’re too wrapped up in what his hands are up to. He loves it, loves touching you and knowing it’s driving you wild, so he gets his forefinger and thumb around your nipple and pinches lightly, how you like it. He looks up to see your eyes still shut. “Aren’t even looking at me, huh, princess? Can’t even look at me when I’m giving you what you want?” He mock sighs. “Is this it, then, you manipulate me into getting you off but then can’t even look at me while I’m touching you?”

You open your eyes and huff at him. “Yes, Jay, that’s it.”

He grins, and keeps going. “Is it that I’m piss ugly? That’s it, isn’t it, you don’t want to look at my fuck-ugly face?”

“I wish your fuck-ugly mouth would shut up,” you mutter.

“What was that?” Jason moves his hand back to your waist, and you pout at him. It looks so attractive on you.

“C’mon, Jay.” You yank at his hair. “You know you’re stupid hot,” and you’re right, he does know, but some of his scars are ugly and they tend to itch. But you know that, which is why your face softens. “You’re stupid hot, and it’s very distracting. Just shut up and kiss me, you’re being annoying.”

“Okay,” he says, easy, but instead of going for your lips he licks a stripe up your breast and closes his lips around your nipple, the right one this time. Your breath leaves you in a rush, and Jason thinks it’s the best sound he’s ever heard, but then your breathing comes back online a moment later. It’s punch-drunk and delicious, and gets to him in the best way. His cock is becoming harder and harder to ignore. A few seconds later and you’re making these small moans that are almost obscene, so he stays right where he is, with his hands alternating between giving your ass more attention and running up and down your back.

“Fuck, Jay,” you pant, clinging onto his shoulders for dear life. “Knew it, knew you would make me feel so good.”

Something occurs to him, and he sucks lightly one last time before pulling back and licking his lips. “Did you touch yourself, doll? While I was gone? Did you make yourself come?”

He has his answer when you look down and bite your lip again. “No, I, um,” and the innocent act you’re pulling is completely ruined by the small smile you’re fighting to keep off your face, but Jason doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. “I wanted you to do it, so I saved it for you.”

Fuck. Fuck. Your words go straight to his groin. The only thing he can think to do is to roll his hips against yours. You meet him there, moving torturously slow against the blunt head of his cock that’s now painful against his zipper. That bit of pain makes it so, so good, and for a few minutes he just moves with you, enjoying the feel of your body against his. Soon, you start talking again. “Jay, Jason, please, touch me,” you beg, your voice going tight as he rolls his hips.

“Where? You have to tell me where, sweetheart,” he murmurs. You stay silent for a few seconds, and then—

“My cunt. My cunt, Jay, and my clit, please.”

You never talk like that, ever, and the filth coming out of your mouth sends electricity crackling through his brain. He immediately stands up, taking you with him. You shriek a bit at being suddenly airborne, then crowd even closer to his chest and start sucking a hickey on his neck. Thoughts hazy, Jason makes for his bedroom and deposits you on his bed.

You quickly collect yourself, stretching out and preening on his rumpled sheets. Jason decides he needs to be naked immediately, and busies himself shucking off his pants and underwear and tearing off his shirt. When he looks at you again, night air cool against his skin, he sees your hand moving between your legs.

Quick as a flash, he darts onto the bed, grabbing your hand with one of his own and placing himself squarely between your thighs. “No, no,” he chides you, pressing your hand into the mattress above your head. “Come on, doll, you’ve waited this long. Let me.” And he brings his free hand to your crotch, finding your clit and rubbing the pad of his index finger against it.

“God, finally,” you hiss, bucking your hips against his hand. He chuckles at that. “Love how impatient you are, love how slick your pussy is.”

You look him in the eye, then. “For you, Jay.”

Well, hell's bells.“For me,” he agrees, then neatly slides his index finger into you. “Ngh--!” He smiles at the aborted sound you make. Jason spends a few minutes here, moving his fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way you’re shivering under his touch. Eventually, your voice stops him.

“Fuck me, Jay,” you plead. “Fuck me with your cock.”

He growls, then reaches for his bedside table. Yanking open the drawer, he fishes out a condom, then backs up to open it and roll it on. When he looks back at you he sees your eyes are wide. “You sure you want to do this?” He asks, just to check in.

You nod, then scoot back so you’re flush against the pillows, laying flat on the bed. He moves back over you, coming to rest between your thighs again, one hand on the wall above the bed for support. You gasp as he slowly pushes into you, a bit at a time. “This okay?” He asks.

“No,” you say shortly, and then you hook your legs around his waist and drag yourself toward him, taking him inside entirely. He narrowly misses biting his own tongue as sparks fly behind his eyes. “Go faster,” you order him.

Jason looks down at you. “You’re six different kinds of crazy, doll,” he says, but he smiles in spite of himself, heeds you and starts thrusting, pulling out of you a bit only to fill you again as his hips snap against yours. “You like it,” you say. He can’t believe how good you feel, how tight you are around him.

“Yeah, I do.” And of course he does.

The two of you spend a few minutes trying to match each other’s pace, hips stuttering in the face of your fragmented concentration. Eventually, though, you’re moving together again, and every time you meet one of his strokes you start to make a low sound in the back of your throat. Jason a;ways makes sure to keep his eyes open when you're fucking, and he's had them trained on you from the start. He loves how you look stretched out below him, how your breasts jump lightly when he fucks into you, how your mouth is shaped into a perfect o with lust. It’s a heady feeling, knowing he can do this to you, and he feels almost drunk with it.

Not that the lust and desire is at all one-sided. Suddenly, your muscles squeeze tight around his cock and he almost loses his mind. Before he starts to go completely he reaches a hand between you and starts rubbing at your clit.

“Ah-ah!” you shout, hands moving to his shoulders. He barely registers the feeling of your fingernails biting into his skin, all he can think about is how good you feel and how he can make you feel good. He starts swiping a thumb across your clit every time his hips slam against yours, and the string of swear words you let out in response is delicious.

“Ff-fuck. Fuck, Jay, I’m going to come,” and suddenly you do, face scrunching up below him as you ride the crest of your orgasm. Your walls clamp down on him, and Jason thrusts once more, twice, three times, and then he follows you blissfully over the edge. For a few moments, the two of you keep still, panting together and staring sightlessly into the dark as you wait for the waves of pleasure to subside enough for you to surface. Eventually, Jason wakes up and out of himself to the feeling of you planting a kiss on his lips. He gives himself a shake, then kisses back eagerly. It’s sloppy, but you don’t seem to mind, pulling back after a few seconds to sigh contentedly. “Well,” you say, dragging your arms down his shoulders, “that was nice.”

“You’re being stingy, doll,” Jason berates you lightly, pulling out of you and removing the condom. “That was a few levels beyond ‘nice.’” He ties off the condom and drops it neatly in the trash, before rejoining you on his bed and pulling you to his chest. You waste no time snuggling against him, fitting your head into the hollow of his neck.

Jason feels brave, so he says “I’m really glad you’re here,” before dropping a light kiss to your hair.

You reach up to stroke along his forearm where it rests on your chest. “I’m really glad I’m here too. And, um, I’m really glad we’re together.” You tilt your head up at that, shy eyes peering up to gauge his reaction. It’s almost too easy to meet you halfway. “I am, too.” A beat, and then “does this mean I’m calling you my girlfriend now?”

You smile pleasantly at the ceiling. “I like that.” And Jason does, too.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #batboys #batboys x reader #DC imagines #smut #jason todd x reader smut #dc comics #dc #dc comics imagine #kira writes

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hobbitsnapes · 4 years

Text

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 6

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @bakketsux)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

As Damian goes down the steps of the cave he hears his father talking to Grayson, the conversation coming to a halt once he enters the large cave.

He walks over to his suit and takes his shirt off to slip into his uniform. “You’re not going out tonight, dick is going with me this time.” He turns around and looks at his father as if he has grown another head. “Why aren’t you letting me go out tonight?” He asks as anger bubbles in his chest, why wouldn’t he want him going tonight? “You’ve been reckless lately, going too far with others and endangering everyone around you due to your temper.” “Are you talking about her, is that what this is all about?” “Yes it is. I can’t understand what it is she’s done to anger you so much and I’m tired of it Damian.”

Now his anger has doubled at his father's confession. “Why doesn’t it bother you that her and Todd are out and killing! You used to be SO angry every time I came close to it and now you couldn’t give a damn at what they are doing!” “Because they are adults and there’s nothing we can do about it Damian!” His father's voice booms around the cave as his anger grows. “Yes there is and you know it!” “We do NOT EVER do that again Damian and you know that! You know what that costed us by making that mistake!” The two yelling at this point. “WELL IT FUCKING WORKED DIDN’T IT!” “”I SAID WE WILL NEVER GO THAT FAR AGAIN DAMIAN! JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE DOES SOMETHING WE DON’T APPROVE OF DOESN'T MEAN WE GO THAT FAR! YOU ARE NOT IN THE LEAGUE DAMIAN! YOU ARE NOT A DICTATOR!” Bruce’s face is red with anger and a vein pops out of his forehead as he yells at his son.

Damian storms off and out of the cave. He goes into his room towards the bathroom and rests his hands on the sink. He bows his head as he tries not to shake at the anger filling him. Why doesn’t it bother him? Why is he letting them do these things over and over but would get furious if Damian were to do it himself?

His anger rises until he hears his door open. He looks at the door and sees dick walking over. “Come on, come and sit.”

Damian walks to his bed and sits down beside him and puts his elbows on his thighs, resting his head in his palms. “Why doesn’t it bother father at what they do?” Damian asks. “Well why does it bother you so much in the first place?” “I don’t fucking know, maybe it’s that they’re out killing people!” Damian feels his anger bubble up again at the idiotic question. “Or is it that you’re bothered that Bruce doesn’t care as much but would be angry if you did it?” Damian says nothing at what he says but looks at the ground. “Jason’s been this way ever since..well..that night. Bruce has tried time and time again but it’s never worked. He can’t change Jason no matter how hard he tries. He holds that standard higher for you because not only are you his only true son, but also because he doesn’t want to fuck up like he did with Jason. He’s said before that what happened to Jason to be his greatest failure. He doesn’t want something like that or worse, to happen again.”

A tear gathers at dicks eyes at the memory, the pain of finding out his brother was murdered so brutally. And the pain at what he became from being so broken.

“I guess you’re right grayson. Sometimes you can actually be intelligent.” The two chuckle at that. Growing used to mocking one another. “Once in a blue moon dames.” A silence fills the room until dick looks over at Damian again. “Are you angry at the fact that she’s your age and doing this?” “No of course not! It doesn’t matter how old or who she is to me grayson.” “Alright then, I’m heading out before he comes up here to drag me out there. I’ll see you later Damian.” “See you later.”

The soft plush of the bed along with the soft cushion of the pillows did little to nothing for the pain in her side.

Each intake of breath brought a sharp pain no matter how softly she tried breathing. Each time she moved she felt the sharp pain again it and made the young woman groan. ‘It’s just a cracked rib, how can it hurt so badly?’ She thought. Though it might also be from the costochondritis from running after the crack.

She slowly starts to sit up, a groan leaving her as the pain shoots through her side. Before she can reach for her medicine on her nightstand, her door opens and in comes Jason holding a new ice pack.

“Thanks dad” she says as she grabs it from him to lay on her side. “Your welcome, do you need anything else?”

He says as he stands beside her bed looking around her table, looking to make sure she has enough water and aspirin. “I’d honestly feel better if I was out in the living room, I feel like I’m going mad just laying in bed all day like this.” “Okay here let me help you up.”

Jason bends down and puts a throw pillow on her side and another hand in hers. “Okay easy easy easy.” He says as he slowly helps her up, a small groan leaving her as she rises to her feet. He puts his hand that was holding the pillow to her back and walks her to her door and opens it for her.

They walk through the kitchen and into the living room, he lets go of her as he piles the pillows up on the couch so she can sit up. He holds the pillow again as he helps her onto the couch.

He runs off and enters her bedroom and walks to her nightstand. He grabs her old ice pack and her medicine and walks to her door, but before he leaves he looks at her bed and notices the plush bear on her bed and grabs it, he steps out of her room before shutting her door.

She smiles as she sees him walking towards her holding her stuffy and medicine. She grabs the bear from him and brings it close to her and inhales in the scent. It still faintly smells of the familiar perfume if she really tries to find the scent and a small smile graces her face.

“When was the last time you took your medicine?” He asks as he looks at the clock on the wall. “I was just about to take some more before you walked in actually.” She says as she reaches for the bottle. She takes out 4 and takes them with a large gulp of water, a wince leaving her at the pain of them going down. “Hey be careful.” “Yeah yeah yeah I know dad, it’s just a cracked rib.” She smiles as she rolls her eyes at how protective he’s become over her. “And inflammation to the cartilage. I don’t like seeing you hurt is all.” He says as he takes a seat at the foot of the couch. “I know dad, but don’t worry so much, remember I’ve been through worse before.” “And if I could I’d make sure you’d never get a cut or a bruise. I hate knowing it’s my fault that you got hurt.” He looks down as he says the last part, a somber look taking over his face. “And I was the one who went out to help you. You can’t keep blaming yourself each time I get hurt, remember I chose to take this life.” “And sometimes I wish I never let you.” A small laugh leaves her at his words. “Yeah and how well would that have worked at stopping me?” He chuckles at that. “Yeah don’t remind me, you’re as stubborn as a fucking Mule sometimes.” “Oh yeah and you aren’t?” She says with a chuckle and a raised brow. “That’s besides the point missy.” He laughs.

A small silence comes over the two. “Wanna watch a movie?” He asks as he looks at her. “Sure.” “Lord of the rings?” He asks “always”

He sits up and goes over to the movie rack that seems to be getting larger each week. He pops in the fellowship of the ring, she smiles as he knows this one to be her favorite of the series.

He goes back to her and sits at the end of the couch and presses play. The two sit and watch the first half of the movie before a yawn escapes her mouth. “You tired bub?” “Yeah just a little bit. Can you hold me?” She says as another yawn comes out. “Alright come here then.”

He moves off the couch and helps her scoot forward as he settles behind her and lays her head back into his stomach. A hand going into her hair and scratches her scalp. A hum leaving her as her eyes grow heavier. “Get some rest okay” “okay, I love you dad.” “I love you too bub.” He says as he bends forward to kiss the top of her head. His other hand going to her face and running his finger over the sides of her face. The motion slowly putting her to sleep.

He looks down at her and smiles at the peaceful look to her face. Her eyelids flutter and he can’t help but wonder what she’s dreaming. His hand still Combing through her hair.

He looks around the room and smiles, the apartment feeling less like a bunker and more like a home as he looks at the pictures on the wall. A wide smile breaks out on his face at his favorite. It’s of the two at the state fair, he’s holding the camera High above them and both with wide smiles covering their faces and his arm holding her close to him. He remembers the day as if it was yesterday.

She hadn't been there long, being a father to her for only a month at that point and still trying to figure out how to bond with the young teen. Him failing miserably each time he tried as it felt like each time he tried it’d push her away further. A sorrow taking over him each time she’d retreat back to her room.

He was at a loss on what to do. Until one day on patrol he noticed a flyer on an electric pole for the Gotham state fair. He mentally hit himself over the head at not thinking of it.

When he got home that night he found her in the kitchen at the counter, eating what appears to be yogurt. “How was it tonight?” She asks as she looks down at the floor. Shocking him as she rarely speaks. “It, it went well. Hey, are you doing anything tomorrow?” “I don’t ever leave, so no.” She says as she looks at him. He scratches the back of his neck, hoping this will work. “Well the fair is tomorrow, do you wanna go?” She perks up at the question as a small smile graces her face. “Um, yeah I’d love to. I haven’t been since I was a child. Do you, think I’ll be well enough to go?” She looks down again at the question. He puts a hand on her arm and looks her in the eyes with a warm smile on his face. “I think you’ve been well enough for a while bub.” She looks up at him with shock at the nickname. He panics at the realization of what he called her. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say-“ “hey hey it’s fine, I don’t mind it” she reassures him with a smile on her usually blank face. “Alright then, how about you get to bed now, wanna go at 8?” He asks. “Yeah that’ll work, and okay, have a goodnight.” She starts to walk away and he turns around to head to the bathroom but stops in his tracks at the feel of her wrapping her arms around him from the back. He turns around and hugs her back, a large smile on his face. “Thank you. For everything.” She mumbles into his chest. “No problem bub, get some rest I’ll get you at 7:30 okay.” She let’s go of him and hurried back to her room. A large smile on his face.

He hasn’t ever seen her smile so much in the month she’s lived with him. She’s a ray of sunshine as she looks around at everything with the largest smile on her face.

He can’t help but mentally take photos of her as she wins a plush pink dolphin at a dart game that he swears is rigged. He laughs at the gleeful laugh she lets out on all the rides they go on. He bits his nails in worry as she climbs the rock wall climb and lets out a cheer as she reaches the top.

It’s getting late as the two go to the Ferris wheel as their last ride before heading home. A smile on her face as they strap in and head up. He watches her as her face is full of aw at the lights below her once they reach the top. “Thank you, this has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” “It’s no problem, I’ve had a lot of fun too.” She looks down at her lap and picks at her nails. “You okay?” He asks. “Can, we take a photo?” She asks as she looks up at him. “Of course we can.” He takes out the camera he bought for this very purpose and wraps his arm around her and flashes a huge smile at the camera as they head down.

He smiles at the memory and looks down at her. He can’t believe how much his life had changed in a year all because of her entering his life. He never thought he deserved happiness after all he had done, he had given up on almost everything until she came in. A small tear gathers at his eye at the idea of what life would be like without her in it. Before he knows it tears are running down his face at the thought of losing her, what would he do if she was gone? What if he made a mistake one night and she left or, he can’t stop the pain in his chest at the thought was too hard to think of until sobs wracked his body.

She wakes up to her head being shaken and the sound of broken sobs alerts her awake. She looks behind her and fear fills her at the sight of Jason with tears running down his face.

She sits up fast and ignores the sharp pain as she wraps her arms around him. He wraps his arms around her and shakes as he is now sobbing fully. “Hey hey hey, what happened are you okay dad?” “I’m so scared I’ll lose you. I’ve, I’ve lost so many people and I’m so afraid you’re next.” She clutches onto him tighter at the confession.

She lets go and hold his face in her hands and looks him in the eye. “Hey listen to me, you won’t lose me, I’m never gonna leave you okay, I made that promise remember?” “But what if, I fuck u-“ “no you won’t dad, you won’t I promise. I’m never gonna die on you, do you hear me? I won’t because I couldn’t do that to you ever.” She goes and hugs him again. “I love you so much bub.” “And I love you dad. I’ll never let go jack.” “You did NOT just make a titanic reference.” “Yes I did.” The two laugh together as they hold onto one another.

As the days of not being able to move without help go by she grows excited at the idea to do things again on her own. As days turn into weeks and weeks turn into 2 months she hardly feels any pain anymore from her rib.

The cut on her thigh healed within 3 weeks of the night and as she can become more mobel she goes out of the house more and more again. She starts going to the park again to do her daily jog to bring her endurance up again. And after a week she’s back to how she was before and excitement grows at the prospect of going out at night again.

As she jogs along the sidewalk she hears the sound of paws hitting the concrete behind her until she looks down and sees the same large black dog she saw those months ago.

She bends down to the large pup and scratches behind his ears again “hii big baby, you miss me? Cause I’ve missed yooouuu.” She coos at the dog and he again falls onto the ground and rolls over. She scratches his belly as his tongue falls out his mouth as happy pants escapes him. “You’re just the cutest little thing aren’t ya, ohh you love the scritches ohh don’t ya!” She laughs as he sits up and starts licking her face. “Oh someone loves givin kisses. Such a pretty baby.”

“You know I swear, he likes you more than me.” She hears someone laugh from behind her and sees Damian. A smile on his face at the sight of the two.

She looks at him and can’t help but look in aw at the sight of the man. Once was he wearing a dark suit he’s now dawning a black long sleeve turtleneck that hugs his muscular frame and accentuates his envious waist and form fitting grey dress pants. His hair free from the gel he had the last time, his hair looking soft as the wind blew it back. His once scruffy face now clean shaven and showing his impressive bone structure.

“Maybe it’s because I have a magic touch then?” She chuckles back.

Damian laughs as he bends down to rub Titus belly. The dog overjoyed at the extra love he’s getting from the pair.

Damian looks at her and can’t help but take her in. Her crystal blue eyes being the first thing he notices, they’re a step lighter than a sapphire gem. Her face having a light dusting of faint freckles that are most prominent on her nose, her lips a stunning shade of a fresh rosebud. Her cheeks taking on a faint red as his green eyes take her in. Her jet black hair no longer in a small bun like the last time but taken down and shortened. It now grazing her cheekbones as soft curls taking over and giving it bounce. She’s wearing an ivory blouse with 3 buttons on the front and stretchy jeans that accentuate her strong thighs.

“Would you like to go sit on the bench over there with me?” Damian asks. “I’d love to.” She says with a smile.

The pair standing up and walking over to the dark grey bench. They sit as Titus jumps up and sits in her lap, a loud laugh bubbling up from her at the dogs obvious love for her. She scratches his head as he closes his eyes at the touch.

“He really seems to have taking a liking to you.” “I’m afraid he has hasn’t he.” “Tell me, what’s your secret?” Fear takes her over at the question, thoughts running through her mind at what he means. “How did you get my dog, who usually doesn’t like new people, to fall in love with you so fast?” Damian says with a smirk. Fear no longer coursing through her as a chuckle leaves her. “Don’t know Mister Wayne, maybe it’s my charm.” “Please, that’s what people call my father. Just call me Damian.” He looks at her again with soft smile and even softer eyes. “Okay then Damian.” She chuckles. “I was wondering, are you preoccupied with anything tomorrow evening?” Damian asks, his heart beating faster as he asks the stunning girl next to him. “Matter of fact I’m free tomorrow evening. Why do you ask?” A smile gracing her face. “Well I was wondering if you’d accompany me to this Italian restaurant that’s opening.” A wide smile takes over her face as she looks down. A strong shade of red taking over her cheeks at the question. “Would Titus be joining us then?” She asks with a knowing smile on her face. “I’m afraid not, it’ll just be me this time.” Damian says with a smile at the game she’s playing. “Welll, I guess I can do that.” She says as she looks him in the eye. “Well then in that case, I guess I should write down the address then.”

Damian says and stands up and heads towards the picnic table that isn’t far and grabs a napkin from its holder and sits back down beside her.

He writes down the address to the restaurant and hands it to her. Their hands meeting briefly and a warmth fills the two at the touch. “Meet me there at 6:30, just wait at the door and I’ll be there.” He says as they stand up. “Alright then, I’ll see you then.” “I’ll be looking forward to it.” He says with a smirk. “As will I, Damian.” She says as she walks away.

As she runs up the stairs of her apartment she’s greeted by one of the neighbors that appears to be leaving. She waves at them and unlocks the door.

She looks around and sees Jason in the kitchen cooking a thing of chicken and onions. “Hey buttercup, how was your run?” “Really good actually, and hey I’m gonna be gone tomorrow night if that’s okay.” She says hopeful. He smiles at her shyness. “Of course you can, just be careful okay?” “Thank you! I’ll be in my room for a while okay.” “Alright, love you bub.” “Love you too dad.”

As she walks by him she kisses his cheek and a smile covers his face.

She runs to her room and shuts the door and looks at the napkin that was in her pocket. She reads the beautifully written cursive and sees something she didn’t notice at first. Below the address on the corner it reads ‘if possible wear a dress but don’t worry too much about how you look. I bet you’ll look amazing either way.’ She beams as a giggle escapes her as the excitement grows in her. She can’t wait for tomorrow night.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @psychovigilantewrites @bakketsux

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne #batman #robin #older!damian wayne #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #tim drake #dc imagine #batfamily #batfam x reader #dceu #dc

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amazingflyingdick · 4 years

Text

right here.

WHO: Dick Grayson @amazingflyingdick, Jason Todd @thatsjasonfkntodd, and mentions of Barbara Gordon @the-orxcle. WHERE: A random alleyway. WHEN: June 30th, 2020. WHAT: After receiving a text from Babs, Jason goes to check on Dick and comes across a disturbing scene.

Jason: The last thing he wanted to do was leave Roy alone, and he’d had a mind to keep arguing with Babs until she’d told him the name given. Dick’s sudden silence over the comms immediately took on a more sinister feeling. Roy would just have to be alright for a little while. Jason told him he was going out, that it shouldn’t be long, but didn’t give details beyond that. He didn’t know what the fuck was happening and it wasn’t the time to lay out a bunch of speculation.

He didn’t take his mask or any of the armor, but he grabbed his twin pistols and the Kris dagger and stored all three in his jacket. Hopefully he wouldn’t need them. Hopefully he’d be rolling up on Dick putting a band aid on some kid’s knee, get a lecture for being in public and armed, and be able to go back to Roy’s apartment. Hopefully, hopefully.

It was only a couple of blocks, Babs had given him the location, and it didn’t take him long to skip roofs until he got over there. He didn’t see anything at first. There was no NOVA patrol, no agents. Hell, there weren’t even civilians. When he abandoned height advantage to get his feet on the ground, he ended up seeing the blood before he saw his brother. The dark red seeping into concrete sidewalk was a too-familiar sight in his life. With a whispered Fuck, he followed the line of it until he saw Dick leaned against the side of a dumpster.

The fabric of his jeans scrubbed against the concrete as he got down beside him. “Dick...hey, hey man, I need you to answer me.” He swallowed the bile in his throat and ignored the rising panic. Shallow wounds bled a lot, more than they should. Might just be that. Dick: The scraping sound Jason's jeans made on the ground made Dick react. He wasn't sure what happened, not really, but the ringing in his head was loud and persistent and he was tired. It wouldn't be the first time he'd worked past his scheduled shift, but there was no reason he should still be here. The bar was dark and he couldn't hear anyone, couldn't see anyone except...

"Jay?" His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He felt something warm and wet on his cheek and he reached up to follow the trail back up to the side of his left eye. Even with gloves on, he felt the hole. The bullet went straight through and out the back of his head, the projectile embedded in the brick just a few inches above his head. He'd been kneeling when he was shot. "I think I cut myself. What time is it? Does Bruce know you're in Bludhaven?" The matter-of-fact, concerned tone was so utterly normal and completely displaced in a dark, blood-soaked alley.

The buzzing in his ears was getting louder. Dick winced and pushed to his feet, barely leaning against the wall before pressing his hand against his head. Blood had already soaked the back of his hair and uniform. He had the vague understanding that something was wrong but he didn't know what it was, but his mind jumped between what he was seeing and strange, disconnected memories that were part hallucination. "Think you can go get me the first aid kit, Little Wing? It's in the back, under the sink. I'm okay, I just have to patch myself up." Jason: Jason felt his throat go tight as he saw just where the blood was coming from. It was too dark where they were for him to see the wound itself, but it was clear that the source of all the bleeding was the back of his head. That coupled with the delirium, or maybe he was full on hallucinating, had Jason reaching out for him as soon as Dick stood up.

“I think it’s a little bigger than a cut, dude. Why don’t you...why don’t we sit back down for a minute...” They all knew field medicine, basic first aid, things that would keep them alive until they got actual medical care at the Batcave or the hospital or somewhere. Jason had a first aid kit on him, but it was small, the most basic of basics. There was gauze, though, and he had to do something to stop the bleeding. “Let me check you out. You can’t reach it yourself.”

Once he had the space to do it, Jason shifted until he was at Dick’s side instead of in front of him. He reached up with one hand, ready to feel for a cut. What he got instead was unmistakably a gunshot wound. As soon as he touched it, he jerked his hand away like he’d been burned and felt a trickle of cold go all the way through him. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.

He yanked the whole roll of gauze out and the tape with it. Before he even got started, he sent Babs a single line of text.

Send medical.

Dick: Dick did stop when Jason reached out, confused, but when he brought his hand away from his head he could see it was wet. It looked black in the dim lighting of the alley. He looked down at the blood on the pavement, already congealing, and thought there was no way he could even have that much blood in his body. It couldn't all be his.

"What happened? Was there a fight?" Something happened, something bad. That was something even he could reason out, despite being more and more distracted by the ringing in his head. It was giving him a headache. "Just a head wound. They bleed a lot, remember? Pretty sure I still have that scab from the train." That had been more than ten years ago. Dick's mind was jumping back and forth. One minute he knew he was in an alley in Star City, but the next he was just as convinced that this was Bludhaven. Jason was fourteen. Bruce was going to be mad at him for letting him in the bar at all, even if it were closed.

Jason's hasty movements made him reach over and calmly pick up the tape. He was already tearing off a piece for him by the time Jason finished with the text. When he set the roll down and saw that just his hand left it soaked in blood, he had a sinking feeling in his chest. "Jason." His sudden change in tone, urgent, with an edge of fear, made it obvious that he was back in Star City. Suddenly he was talking fast, eager to get the information out before there wasn't time. He could barely focus. "The kid I found, he said his name was Gary Kemp. The NOVA agent. I don't know who shot me, but..." He paused, blinking, and reached up to touch the wound even if it meant getting in the way of any first aid Jason was rendering. "Oh no." He was shot in the head? Dick laughed softly. "Now I have to come up with something better to say just in case my last words end up being about NOVA." Jason: As soon as he pressed gauze to the wound, it was soaked through with blood. He packed more onto it for both sides, and taped it down even though it meant pressing it to Dick’s hair. It wasn’t going to help for long. Jason’s hand was shaking a little as he held the second piece of it in place even after the tape. He only let it go when Dick suddenly snapped back into reality and the franticness of that did nothing to quell the dread pooling in his stomach.

“Fuck off with that,” he said immediately, not for a second letting that thought linger. “Babs has got help on the way. Me and Steph aren’t accepting new members of the club right now, so you’re going to have to live. Admissions are closed.” Jason moved to get Dick leaning back against the front of the dumpster, even though that was a horrible place to be. He didn’t want to move him to find anywhere better. Dick: Even through the haze of the strange pinging in his head and the slow creep of pain, Dick noticed Jason's hand shaking. He did shift back to lean against the dumpster, but reached up to put his hand on Jason's arm before he could move back. Normally he would have said nothing, he would have let Jason have that peace of mind, but there was so much blood. It was getting harder to breathe and he felt as if his head were burning from the inside. The pain made him want to move, but he settled for twisting his fingers in Jason's jacket. "Don't do that."

He didn't want to die in front of Jason. The thought made him feel cold. But even his unwavering optimism couldn't deny the reality of what he was facing. This wasn't something he was guaranteed to survive, let alone walk away from unscathed. There were so many things he could say and even wanted to say, but he didn't want to wrap his head around it. He thought about his family and how their last memories of him were that disastrous dinner, he'd never have the chance to make it up to them. He thought about Slade and hated that he would prove his cynicism correct by dying here, like this, even though it was because of his own actions.

Jason was here, he claimed not to care about the past, but suddenly Dick had to make sure. He had to talk. "I wanted more time. With you. To be your brother." It was a strange way to word how he felt, but it was difficult to explain it properly. "Also, please don't let anyone put me in the Lazarus Pit." Jason: It was funny, in a way that wasn’t actually funny at all, that he’d seen so much death in his life but so little of it had been accompanied by the burden of actually saying goodbye to anyone. His father had died across the city. His mother had been gone by the time he was on the bathroom floor. It didn’t make them any less dead or make it less real, but he’d dealt mostly with the aftermath and not the process. There had been close calls and very near misses with other people, but none so close as a bullet to the head and blood in an alley.

Jason closed his eyes. He had to. He could feel the irritating burn of tears and he needed it to go the fuck away. “Come on, Dickie. You’re not leaving me here to deal with everyone’s dumb bullshit without you. I didn’t sign up for that. That’s your job.”

Life had never been fair. He’d learned that by the time he could walk and talk. Life was a bitch that you had to figure out how to survive and twist into something you could stand. He hadn’t always managed to do that, and he still wasn’t great at it, but it had felt like a few things were getting better, like he’d been able to right some of the wrongs that he’d held onto for so long. Unfair didn’t begin to cover it if it was just going to be over that fast. “I need you here,” he said without realizing it until the words were out, even though they’d barely been a whisper. They all did, but they weren’t all sitting there in a pool of Dick’s blood to say it. Just him. Dick: "You're better at it than you think." It didn't matter how many times he blinked. Jason was still blurry. Eventually Dick gave up trying to bring him into focus and kept his eyes closed. It made his head feel better and he could focus on staying conscious until the ambulance got there. It made him feel as if that gave him some control over the outcome of this, or at least gave him a better chance, because this wasn't how he wanted things to end. Not when he'd finally turned so many things around for the better. And not before he had time to repair the relationships he'd strained. Jason being left to handle Tim and Damian didn't alarm him, not really, because he knew that beyond Jason's hostility he still had the desire to connect with them. "They look up to you."

He heard the words beyond the roaring in his ears. Dick hadn't settled comfortably into the thought of death, but he'd recognized the very real possibility of it, but then... maybe he just wouldn't let it be an option. This was one more bullet he'd take and come back from. It might not bode well that it was a bullet to the head, but he could still feel all of his fingers and toes. He still knew his own name. He could still see, even if his vision was messed up. Jason should have found him already dead, but he didn't. If he were lucky enough to survive the initial shot, then he wasn't going to let himself die in an alleyway just because he got too complacent. "I'm here. I'm not giving up that easily." Dick wanted to smile, but he knew his mouth was full of blood and he could feel it moving down his throat. It wouldn't have the reassuring effect he wanted. "Just keep talking. About anything. Tell me something about you I don't already know." It was something he normally would have done, but he was finding it more difficult to keep his voice even. His body felt cold and even his voice shook from it. Every few seconds he thought he heard the ambulance in the distance, but it was that persistent ringing nose he couldn't get out of his head.

Jason: “Yeah well, they shouldn’t.” He didn’t elaborate. It wasn’t the moment for that. There had been times when he was willing to step in for the family, when he’d helped because they’d asked or needed it, but he was still struggling with the idea of being a more permanent part of it even if that had been kind of happening on its own. He didn’t want to really consider the idea of someone, least of all him trying to fill even half the role that Dick did. He’d spent so much of his life being resentful of it and it just wasn’t his to take. It wasn’t anyone’s.

The risk of Dick nodding off if they just sat there seemed too great, even as Jason struggled to think of one single thing to tell him. Something popped into his head in a few moments and he told the story before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. He’d thought about it a couple of other times, but there had never been a reason to bring it up.

“I saw you perform in the circus once. My dad lifted some tickets off a guy in the parking lot and got us in.” It was one of the few ‘normal’ memories that he had of Willis. What passed for normal, anyway. “I was probably six. I thought the animals would be the best part, but then you guys showed up. The Flying Graysons.” Jason swallowed and leaned back against the trashcan, listening for an ambulance he didn’t hear yet. “It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. I thought you...” he let out a short sigh, embarrassed to actually be admitting it after so long, “I wanted to be you so badly that night. I’d never been as happy as you looked.” Dick: Dick shook his head. "Doesn't matter." They would regardless. He wanted to tell Jason that it meant something that they looked up to him for who he was, rather than an image that didn't exist, a standard that was more competition than admiration, but he had a feeling it wouldn't make much of a difference. It was a burden that he understood. It had been on his shoulders because he knew, after what happened to Jason, that they would need someone who wasn't Bruce. Dick never set out to project some golden standard and he would have denied it, if confronted, because he placed value on authenticity. It didn't occur to him that not doing things or holding back parts of himself was creating a false image of perfection. He'd been so wrapped up in what he needed to do or give that it was automatic to breeze over everything with ease or nonchalance.

It took years and a chain of events for everything to break down. For him to get here. Now he was finally getting some sort of footing, even if it were shaky. Even though he heard Jason, it took longer than usual for him to understand what it was he was saying. When it started to sink in he quickly opened his eyes so he could try to look at him. He was still blurry, but it hadn't gotten worse. "You were at... Haly's?" It took a beat longer than it should for the word to come to him. He didn't like that, but he tried not to linger on it. If Jason were six, it meant he'd been eight. It couldn't have been long before the murders. Jason wanting to be him just because he'd been happy was devastating. "I was," he finally whispered. His lips felt wet and he reached up, confused to find a strange mixture of blood and tears. "I wish I could be him." Dick's voice was getting more slurred, but he still seemed determined to speak, to keep talking, "Now? You've been that happy. Haven't you?" Jason: Jason could tell that Dick was struggling to talk, even though he was still doing it, and he was genuinely afraid to look at him. He already knew what he was going to see. Sure enough, when he made himself turn his head, he saw the dark shadow of blood between his lips and the unnatural paleness of his face. The gauze he’d put against the bullet wound was so dark with blood that it looked almost the same shade as his hair. Jason curled his hand into a fist at his side, scraping his knuckles against the rough cement, and made himself keep talking.

“Yeah. Haly’s. The old man thought he did me a big favor with that one.” And he had, in his own fucked up way. The only reason Willis had to steal circus tickets, of all things, was to take Jason. He’d still been a drunk asshole, but not every minute of every day. “I...don’t know,” he admitted, a little surprised by his own answer. “Maybe.” He should probably know if the answer was yes, though, right? He should know if he’d been that happy. Every good thing in his life always seemed to be weighed down by something else, though, and it had always been that way. “You looked free,” he added. “I guess we both want to be him now. Don’t think I’d look good in the leotard though.” He didn’t laugh even as he made the joke. Dick: Free. It was an interesting word to use. If Dick were fully capable of analyzing it he would have, but it somehow meant something in a way he didn't have to fully understand. Not right now, at least. It mattered more than Jason was telling him this now when he hadn't ever said a word about it before. Dick had no idea that Jason saw him at the circus. None at all. It was almost a relief knowing that he'd seen him before the worst day of his life.

Even though he'd been happy since, there was no denying that he'd never been as happy as he was that day in the circus. That was a different world. And even though Jason's answer made him sad, he wasn't willing to believe that he couldn't be that happy one day. "When this is over, we should go." Haly's Circus was still around, but it was back east somewhere. Dick didn't keep up with them. It was easier to keep his distance. "Don't think we can be him," he said quietly. The ringing in his head was a low buzz, but the world was getting dimmer and he closed his eyes again. He didn't want to lose consciousness now. It felt too soon, like he wasn't done saying what he needed to say, but he was struggling to articulate it. "That's what I want. For you, I mean. To be happy. Free. Do whatever you need to do to get it." Jason: When this is over. Jason clung to that a little too hard. “Yeah...yeah, sure, we’ll go. Road trip.” He would have never agreed to it under any other circumstance, and if Dick remembered it when he recovered he was going to vehemently deny that it had ever been said. But for those first few months at Wayne Manor, he’d wanted a brother like that. A family like that. He’d never got it, none of them did. They got something else entirely, and a road trip meant fighting crime across borders.

He sat up straighter as he heard what he was positive was finally an ambulance. It was still a few blocks away, maybe it wasn’t even coming to them, but he was sure he heard it. “That’s a tall order, Grayson. Nobody’s free.” Least of all him. “I’ll work on the other one.” He was trying. He’d been trying for years to get to something besides just bitterness and anger. It wasn’t always successful, and usually when it was he found some way to sabotage it.

He could hear Dick’s words sort of slurring together. With his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, Jason reached out and put a hand on Dick’s shoulder to keep him sitting up. “Just a couple more minutes. Hang on.” Please. Dick: The agreement brought him an absurd amount of relief. Dick nodded, his grip on Jason's arm loosening even though he didn't release him completely. That tight grip was keeping him present and he needed it. He needed to stay present and not let himself get confused about where and when they were. Not again.

"Maybe not," he agreed, the heaviness in his tone more honest than it'd ever been. "But we can get close." He doubted he would ever be completely free. Part of him would always feel indebted to Bruce and the rest of his family, at least in some small ways, and that was a connection he wouldn't willingly sever even for his own sake. That Jason was willing to try and be happy was what he needed to hear and he nodded, slumping against the dumpster and finally letting himself relax. In the distance he thought he heard an ambulance, but he wasn't sure.

Jason's hand on his shoulder kept him upright. Dick took a shallow breath and heard it rattle in his throat. "Please don't go." It was a struggle to get the words out and he knew they were selfish, but he couldn't help the request and it came from somewhere deep, unconscious, and his fingers twisted in Jason's sleeve as if he needed reminding that he was still there. Jason: He’d had to stamp down the urge to try again and stop the bleeding himself. There was nothing he could do, physically, and even though he knew that it was hard not to sit there and think that Dick was dying right next to him and he wasn’t trying to do more, find some way to make it better even if that was impossible. It seemed like keeping him awake was more important.

“Maybe we can.” He didn’t believe it. The second they’d put on the Robin suit, the very instant they’d let themselves become part of Bruce’s life and Batman’s ‘legacy,’ they’d thrown out freedom. It was the price paid. Freedom came with not knowing how ugly all the ugly parts of the world really were. Jason had never had that and Dick had lost it. There wasn’t any going back.

He fought not to close his eyes again. The idea of opening them to see Dick having faded away was too much. “Still right here,” he muttered. He moved his other hand on top of Dick’s, trying to ignore the fact that both of them had blood on them. It was impossible not to.

The ambulance sirens were closer. Jason heard them one street over, but couldn’t see the lights yet. He was going to have to get up so they could find them and know where to go, but he’d wait those last few moments. Dick: Even though part of him knew Jason was right, knew everything changed for them the day they donned the mantle of Robin, Dick still wanted to believe that their future was more malleable. He didn't want to be held down by the past. It was one thing that might make him different than the others: his unwavering belief that things could be better, even when they were at their most dire.

Like right now. Part of him knew that he was hovering at a dangerous level, right on the edge of something - and he didn't know what that something was, but he was trying to resist the pull to give into it. It would be easier to let himself fade into unconsciousness. There was almost a comfort in not feeling any more pain.

He thought he heard the ambulance, but he wasn't sure and it wasn't worth ruining the moment to ask. His grip on Jason's hand tightened, almost desperately, and he was barely aware of the other intruding voices once the EMS crew arrived and took over. He didn't want to lose the grip he had on Jason's hand, or arm, or whatever he could touch that was concrete and kept him in the present. The second he was pulled away and the contact was lost, he gave into the cool, comforting blackness, even though he didn't see it as giving it. It was simply the respite he needed before he returned full force to fight.

#c: discord #dick grayson #jason todd #injury tw #blood tw #death mention tw

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flying-nightwing · 4 years

Text

Shame and Toxic Fame (vol. 1)

Ah! I’m back with a two (maybe three?) part story which is kinda inspired by the song Life of the Party by All Time Low (not shawn mendes lmao). If you don’t know it check it out it’s super good.

In this one reader is a famous singer because why not! Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Music star!reader

Word count: 3727

Warnings: Mention of substance abuse (both alcohol and drugs), light bar fight violence

I spent an embarassing amount of time searching for a gif for this one oof

The night was going absolutely great until you took a look at yourself in the mirror during a quick fix up.

You were a mess.

Your red eyes were contrasting with your smudged dark makeup, your bronzer and highlighter were mostly gone and the poor imitation of a lipstick stain was stretched all over your mouth and teeth. You lifted a hand to fix it, but in your dizzy state, it didn’t do much. Your purple top was ruined with alcohol and your bracelets were stuck on your skin from the sugar of your drinks’ mixers. You had a moment of lucidity right there, asking how the hell you ended up at rock bottom so quick, but you didn’t like it. You reached in your pocket and took the last smiley face pill in your little plastic bag, and like it, you put a grin on your face and returned to the party. You grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar, made your way over the passed out people on the ground and rejoined the dancefloor.

You were dancing, high on the colors and sound waves around you when the illusion shattered.

Your ex walked in with his friends, laughing and joking like he owned the place. You gasped in offense at the audacity of him showing up to your birthday party. At your place. Like he hadn’t humiliated you publicly less than a month ago in front of the whole world. Your grip on the bottle tightened and you stomped in his direction. His friends noticed your first, halting their laugh and tapping him on the chest. His eyes met yours and they widened in humour at your state.

“You!” You screamed. The music turned down, the chatter died. Murmurs went around the crowd and cameras got taken out as people formed a circle around you.

“Me” He pointed at himself.

“How dare you!” You pushed him back, suddenly unhinged. He laughed with the crowd, holding his hands up in defense. But he wasn't taking you seriously. “How dare you show up here!”

“It said open house, darling” Now he was patronizing. “I can be here. Beside, happy birthday”

“Get out” You gritted your teeth. “GET OUT”

“No”

Without really thinking, you lifted your bottle and slammed it on the table, shattering it. Yelps went around the crowd, and they got even louder when you pointed the jagged end in his direction.

“Wow WOW” He backed up. “Fucking crazy bitch!”

You couldn’t really recall what went next. People came in between you two as he kept shouting for someone to “take this crazy bitch away from him”. Arms restrained you around the waist, you threw up, you think, and you blacked out.

--------

You groaned as you felt sunlight hit your eyes. You threw an arm over your face and forced yourself not to think about your fragile stomach. The taste in your mouth was foul and your head was pounding like crazy. Now you had become quite the expert on hangovers lately, but this one was definitely the worst you had ever had. And it became only worse when memories from the night before started to come back, if it was even possible.

The thought of that shitshow alone made you puke.

You turned around in your bed, knowing you’d have to clean the alcohol off your floor anyway. Beside, you wouldn’t have made it to the bathroom on time. But to your surprise, you found a metal bucket at the foot of the bed, ready for you to grab and hurl the content of your stomach in it. Only when you didn’t have anything more to throw up that you realized you did not own anything like this bucket, or that the bedside table had gone from your cherry wood to an unfamiliar oak grey. Thinking about it, you didn’t own a navy blue carpet, nor were your sheets that color either.

Fuck.

You looked around in panic when you realized that you were not, in fact, in your bedroom. You had been changed into a large t-shirt, but you still had your underwear underneath it as well as your purple tank top. You half sighed in relief, then hissed at the pounding in your head. You had sat up way too quickly and now you made it worse. Your eyes were dragged to the bucket, and your nose scrunched up. You would have thrown up again if there had been anything left in your stomach. Then your eyes trailed to the grey oak night table, on which there was your phone (plugged in a charger?) beside two ibuprofen and a glass of water.

Without question, you took them and drank the water slowly to make them pass. You were parched, but your stomach did not like the input of liquid right now. When you were sure the water wouldn’t come back out, you slowly reached for your phone and flinched even before turning on the lockscreen. Your fears were confirmed when you came face to face with about a hundred texts with the same thumbnail and a lot of capital letters and punctuation. You had a ridiculous amount of notifications from every social apps you had, and they were still getting in as you stared in shock at your screen. Your hand flew to your mouth, not from the threat of puking this time. Tears brimmed your eyes as you realized just exactly what you had put yourself into. You shook your head, feeling your breathing accelerate. You were overwhelmed, and instead of opening conversations--any conversation--you just shut your phone down and threw it on the floor.

“What have I done” You mumbled to yourself, trying to swallow back the panic attack threatening to surface. Dragged in the mud the remaining of your pride, that’s what you did.

A quiet knock on the door pulled you back from your own spiral of shame. You didn’t speak. “Uh, (Y/N), are you okay? I heard a thud from here”

“Yeah” You replied, and you voice came back more hoarse than you thought. The voice was male, and it seemed uncertain. You did not recognize it. “Thanks”

“... Can I come in?”

You considered refusing, as you were still too ashamed to face anyone, and still unsure about the intention of whoever brought you here. But then again, they didn’t seem to have touched you, and they asked to come in rather than barge in. Also, they had left a bucket. That was the most anyone did for you in a while.

“S-Sure”

The door creaked open and a tall man with dark hair stood behind it. He peeked inside, like he was hesitant to step in further, but he nodded to himself when he saw you weren't dead. And if you looked like a dressing room carpet after a Guns and Roses after party, which you most certainly did, he did not let it show on his face.

“I just wanted to make sure you were alright” He hummed. “Last night, you seemed pretty… Uh...”

“Wasted? Trashed? Ridiculous?” You offered with a sad smile, waiting for him to laugh at you or show you a video of what you did.

“I was thinking more of in need of a hand” He replied gently, taking you aback. “My brother and I brought you back here before the paps could swarm the place, but don’t worry my sister changed you. I wasn’t--”

You looked down at the shirt, then back at him.

“Thanks” Your eyes filled with water again.

“Oh, hey, no please--” He rushed inside. “Please don’t cry”

Obviously, that was the one thing not to say, because as if on cue you began crying. He grabbed the tissue box on the desk and brought it to you. You mumbled a thanks and blew your nose with all the grace left you possessed. Now you must have truly looked like a sight for sore eyes, bawling in a stranger’s bedroom as he handed you tissues.

“Hey, come on, it’s okay” He shushed, giving you awkward pats on the back. You could tell he didn’t do that often, judging by his awkwardness, but it did make you feel better. At least he wasn’t judging you like he should be; he must have seen the pathetic excuse of a fight that had gone down at your party. “Let it all out”

You finally calmed down after a few minutes, sniffing and wiping your eyes. You took a deep breath, then another one and nodded. Your glance trailed up to his face, and much to his credit he did not grimace at your state from up close. He seemed uncomfortable, but not enough to be on the verge of running away. If anything, he did look genuinely concerned, which was unusual for your typical entourage. “What’s your name?”

“Jason”

“That’s a nice name” You lifted the corner of your lips. “Where are we?”

“Wayne Manor”

Your eyes widened. He’s that Jason?

“Yeah” Amusement overtook his features while you froze. He figured you did not intend to say that out loud.

You were in the Wayne Manor with an actual legend, and you hadn’t even realized it. He was even more famous than you, mostly for being the Wayne son that was found after two years of having disappeared.

“I’m sorry to tell you that your reputation is now forever tainted” You scoffed weakly. “Bringing back the breakdown diva will make people talk”

He snorted. “I doubt that’s the thing I’ll be remembered about”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I, uh” He scratched the back of his neck. “You really don’t recall what went down yesterday?”

“No” You shook your head. “I can’t see past the moment I yelled at my ex to get out”

“Okay… Just to be sure, he was the bad guy, right?” He flinched, and your eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I might uh. You know what, it’ll just be easier to show you”

He fished out his phone out of his back pocket and pulled out a video, then dragged the time mark to one specific moment. He handed you the phone and you pressed play. It started as you smashed the bottle, making wine explode everywhere including on yourself. Not your proudest moment. Then the crowd shrieked and people came to break the fight, you were pulled out of view as Jason appeared, trying to make your ex back off. Something the mic didn’t quite catch was said, and that’s when you saw what he meant. In barely a second, Jason blocked your ex’s punch and replied with two quick ones of his own. Your ex was sent flying backwards, unconscious and bloody, and the video ended with that.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh god”

“Yeah” He sighed. “Sorry”

“Sorry?” Your eyes flickered back to him as you handed him his phone. “N-No, don’t be. I mean, he definitely deserved that”

It was his time to be taken aback.

“You’re good with that?”

“Obviously” You gave him a small smile. “I just wish I was the one who punched him”

“Well, judging by the smash bottle of wine you were holding up, I’d say you came pretty damn close”

You allowed yourself to chuckle before you remembered you were still a surprise guest in the manor. Jason had helped you out, but he and his family would probably want you out of their home as soon as possible. You looked down at your laps and fidgeted with your fingers.

“I, uh, I should go” You mumbled. “I don’t want to burden you much longer with my presence, uh, you must want me out of here”

He blinked.

“You’re not a burden” He replied. “You still seem pretty shaken up. You can stay here as long as you want, the house is certainly big enough”

You bit the inside of your cheek. On one hand, you really did feel like imposing. On the other hand, the offer really did sound tempting. You weren’t ready to face the world just yet, and Wayne Manor was the perfect hideout for you to ride out the embarrassment. But Jason had already been way too nice to you as it was, and it was more than you deserved.

You shook your head. “Thanks, but--”

“I know you don’t want to go” He interrupted you softly. “I can see it, and I understand. You don’t have to expose yourself to the vultures just yet”

You felt the back of your neck heat up. You had no idea any of Bruce Wayne’s kid would be so… Not what you thought they’d be. You surely did not expect that level of kindness.

“Don’t you worry, we’ve all been there” He looked up, then gave you a knowing smile. “Take your time, there’s a bathroom right behind this door, fresh clothes in the drawers and a fully stocked kitchen when you’re ready to eat something. I make an amazing hangover smoothie”

He stood up and walked to the door.

“Thank you, Jason”

He nodded, then left you to do your stuff. You remained on the bed for a couple of minutes, texting a few people close to you you were okay, before you got a draft of your own smell. You gagged and immediately went for the shower.

------

Freshly showered and changed, you timidly headed down to the kitchen. You got lost a few times on the way there, but you finally made it. You were relieved there was only Jason preparing food; you weren’t sure coming face to face with Bruce Wayne would be a great idea in your state. You were all cleaned up, but even a good wash couldn’t erase the bags under your eyes or the pounding in your head that made you flinch every now and then.

“Feeling better?”

“Much better” You smiled. “Thank you”

“Hey, no problem” He chuckled as he pushed a glass with a thick, pale green liquid your way. “Besides, it’s kind of an honor to have you here”

You cocked your head to the side.

“I mean, you’re pret-ty amazing” He said, taking a bite of his toast. “You have some admirers around here… Talking of which”

You followed his glance behind you, where a grinning, wide eyed young man was standing. You knew who he was, Dick Grayson was hard not to notice around Gotham. You were just surprised of his reaction from seeing, apparently, well, you.

“Hi” He smiled even brighter, if it was possible. “I’m Dick. Big fan”

“Hi” You gave him a small wave back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uh?”

“I was there too yesterday. I held you up when you, well”

“Oh” You looked away. So, that was the brother that had witnessed your disgrace in live action. Super. “Yeah, I feel better, thanks”

“Great!” The sound made you flinch as it resonated in your head, making him mutter a sheepish apology.

“Alright Grayson, now’s not the time to be a fanboy” Jason teased, before he turned to face you. “Come, I’ll show you somewhere quiet to pass the hangover”

You grabbed your glass and followed him out of the kitchen and around the manor to some remote room on the end of a wing. He pushed the door open to a room with wide windows and warm lightning, a library you realized by the few bookshelves around.

“Make yourself comfortable” He gestured to the seats around. “It’s the most relaxing place in the house, because my siblings are not allowed here”

“Why is that?”

“My library, my rules”

“Your library?” You raised your eyebrows, but he just shrugged.

“They can use the big one” He explained. “This is my space, and it comes handy when you have four annoying siblings”

“Gotcha” You smiled lightly as you walked around the room, observing the book titles. He had interesting tastes, you had no idea again he was that kind of guy. Well, you knew next to nothing about him, come to think of it. But the little you thought you had right from the tabloids was totally wrong. You kept snooping around as he sat in a chair and opened a book, until you came face to face with a beautiful acoustic six strings waiting there. You reached for it, but pulled your hand back last second. When you glanced back at Jason, he was already looking at you above his book.

“May I?”

“Knock yourself out” He gestured to it, then returned to his book.

You restrained your new found excitement as you carefully picked the guitar up from its stand and carried it to a seat. A couple of strums told you it was slightly out of tune, so you adjusted the keys until it sounded on the note. You began playing the strings softly and humming along, until you felt Jason’s stare on you. His book was down on his laps and he had an interested glint in his eyes. Your fingers paused as you felt once again the heat creep up your neck.

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing your reading” You mumbled, suddenly feeling bad for violating his silent heaven.

“No, don’t worry” He reassured. “It’s quite nice. Did you compose that yourself?”

“Uh, yeah” You nodded. “It’s been so long, though. I don’t compose much anymore”

“Why?”

You smiled sadly. “I now have an extensive team of producers that make my music for me. Apparently, getting that catchy, polished, flawless radio hit is the priority these days. Better for business”

“Yeah well, that’s bullshit if you ask me” He leaned slightly forward. “I think a personal, heartfelt song will always be better”

“You and I both” You sighed. “Honestly I have no idea how I ended up here, or where I went wrong”

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows drew in confusion. “You didn’t go that bad”

“Are you kidding me?” You choked on air, your eyes widening. “Haven’t you followed the tabloids the last year? Hell, you were there yesterday. You saw how trashed I was, and that was hardly an exception. I have earned a title of Breakdown Princess for a reason”

“Maybe” He shrugged. “But you were part of a culture putting inhuman pressure on public figures, especially women to perform and be perfect all the time ever since you were what, sixteen? And with what I’ve seen from that guy I punched… Anyway. All I’m saying is, don’t blame yourself too much for a game you were tricked to play”

You could only stare at him blankly, blinking rapidly. You had expected him to get it a bit, with being the son of Bruce Wayne and all. But holy shit, even you had never seen it like this before. Maybe he had a point. When you looked at it, the pressure you endured from everyone around you, the endless parties your agent had booked you to attend, the new album, the promos and press tours, actual tours, the substance addiction scandal, all the shit with your ex that tanked your reputation, hitting rock bottom…

The last year had been hell, to say the least.

“How do you know all that?” Your question was genuine, and he gave you a quizzical half smile and a little shrug.

“When I told you earlier that we’ve all been there…” He trailed off. “Just know that I know how it feels. To have pressure to be someone you’re not”

“Well” You took a deep breath. “Thank you, I think I needed to hear that”

“Don’t mention it” He leaned back in his chair, before his expression subtly changed. “Actually, I’d have a little request, if you don’t mind”

“Go ahead”

“Could you play that song for me?” He asked. “I’d like to hear it”

You smiled and nodded at the innocence of his request. Of course you could do that to the person that literally swooped in and saved the day, and provided you with care after your own shit show. You began strumming the song you were playing just before, this time fully singing along. It had been years since you had played it, but it was your favourite you had ever written, and you still remembered it by heart. It made you smile even more, definitely bringing you in a good mood. You played the last chords of the song and looked up to see Jason hanging onto every sound.

“I…” He began. “Wow. Why was that never released again?”

You shrugged lightly. “My agent wouldn’t let me, I guess”

“You should release it anyway” He continued. “This is honest to god amazing”

“Thanks” You let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of your neck. “Honestly, I wish I could just… Fire everyone. And get back to the basics, release my on stuff, you know?”

“Then do it”

“I can’t just do it” You replied quickly in confusion. “There are contracts and--”

“Sure you can” He said, an amused yet relaxed expression on his face. “I, Jason Todd, give you the explicit permission to use the Wayne name to scare any lawyer getting in the way of your full emancipation”

You laughed at his self assured grin, but also to hide your surprise. Of course, you knew the Wayne lawyers were the best in town and would most probably put the fear of god in the heart of your record label and agent, but you still weren’t sure if he was kidding or not.

“I’m serious” He added after a moment. “If you need help to get out of these contracts, we’re more than willing to help”

“You’d do that for me?” You asked carefully. “I’m just a stranger”

“Ah well, helping strangers is kind of our thing here” He hummed, looking up at the ceiling before his glance met yours again. “Besides, it’s really cool that you’re here. All of us will so be plugging that we know you in every conversation from now on. Especially Dick”

You laughed again, lighter this time.

“Be my guest” You grinned. “I doubt it’ll achieve anything but raised eyebrows these days but if it makes you feel good…”

“Superb” His grin matched yours. “Now, I’ll let you play in peace”

“And I’ll let you read in peace”

You exchanged a smile, then kept messing around the chords as he picked up his book again.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd reader #dc #dcu #DC Universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #imagine #au

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years

Text

Vulnerable

Batfamweek2020 Day 6 / Fluff / @official-batfam-week

Summary: Jason finds a little intruder in one of his safe houses. He tries to convince himself he doesn’t care until he finds out he really, really cares.

Yeah I know this is two days late. Listen, time is relative and the week isn’t over until I say it’s over. Also yes, the prompt is fluff and this seems to be mostly angst, but there’s cuddles at the end which is about as fluffy as you guys can get out of me.

AO3

-o-o-o-o-

When Jason entered his safe house, he honestly wasn’t expecting anything to be amiss or out of place, yet here he is, walking up to the run down apartment squished between some Chinese takeout shop and a weird voodoo shop just to see the front door slightly ajar.

On instant high alert, Jason grabs at the gun on his hip and considers digging out a domino mask to hide his identity. He’s in street clothes, a civilian if you will. He’s just gotten back from grocery shopping to fill up his various houses with a resupply of food storage. He’s not really in the mood to fight anyone, and for all he knows whoever is inside his safe house could just be a squatter.

Though, no typical squatter can bypass his security measures. Whoever is here is competent enough to discharge his surplus of alarms and boobytraps.

And besides, whoever went through the trouble of breaking and entering into his safe house wouldn’t be there for Red Hood. They’re here for Jason.

He slowly places his bags of canned goods and such onto the ground and pulls his gun out so it’s held out in front of him. He stalks towards the door and takes a calming breath, not wanting to think about who could possibly be in there but also thinking of the worst case scenario.

Maybe just a smart squatter. Could be the Joker. Maybe Bruce. Jason doesn’t if Bruce falls in the good or bad category, but Jason swears to god if he barges in there and it’s just that stupid bastard Jason will categorize him as the absolute worst and might just shoot the jerk-face anyway.

Jason kicks the door open hard enough to make it’s hinges squeal in protest. His gaze instantly locks on a figure sitting on his moth eaten sofa he placed in front of a display TV that he took from the local Walmart.

What? It was “broken” and they were going to throw it away even though he could easily fix it. No harm no foul.

The figure on his sofa looks up from a phone in their hands with a glare, and Jason lowers his gun with a scoff and returns the narrowed eyes with his own.

“What the heck are you doing here, tater-tot?” He demands.

“Tt,” Damian rolls his eyes and returns to his phone, Jason leans his head forward a little to see what the brat is doing on it and it looks to be... that Animal Crossing app. Huh. “It’s none of your business, Todd.”

Jason scoffs, putting his gun back in his holster. “This is my safe house, to which the door you left open. It’s every ounce of my business.”

“Fine,” Damian snarls, standing up abruptly and shoving his phone inside his jacket pocket. “I’ll leave then.”

Jason has to fight to not make any of his utter bafflement physical as he makes a grab for the kid’s arm before he can retreat through the door. “Oh no you don’t. You’re not leaving until I get a straight answer out of ya-“

Damian jerks his arm violently and Jason just manages to keep a grasp on him. “Unhand me, you imbecile!”

“Ah, nah,” Jason retorts, grabbing his other arm as Damian goes to throw a punch. Damian squirms and Jason fights off a sigh as he has to kneel down and hold the brat in an almost white knuckled grasp so he doesn’t escape. He really hopes no one steals his groceries while it’s just sitting out there ripe for the taking. “You broke into my house, you can leave and go throw a tantrum somewhere else after this, I could seriously care less, but if I have to tie you to a chair and play Justin Bieber until you talk I will.”

Damian shoots Jason a look of pure loathing before he glares at his shoes, no longer struggling but still looking like he’ll dart for the nearest exit the moment Jason lowers his guard. “It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have come here. Let me go.” A second. Then a small: “Please.”

“Okay,” Jason says, and if he didn’t have both his hands keeping Damian still, he would be rubbing the bridge of his nose. Where’s the golden boy when you need him? “Okay, something is clearly up with you. What’s up? Did Titus poo on your bed? Break an expensive pot? Accidentally kill someone-?”

“I don’t kill,” Damian snarls suddenly, and the ferocity of the statement has Jason blinking in shock. Damian is refusing to look up now, eyes blinking quicker than normal. “I don’t. Not anymore. I don’t.”

Jason narrows his eyes and gets down on his knees to become level with the little midget. “Kid. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Damian sniffs, uses his shoulders to rub at his eyes, and there’s a suspicious glint in his green irises that has Jason suddenly feel a rush of panic. Oh heck nah. This is Goldilocks’ problem. Jason should have just let the kid go. Yeah, he asked what was bothering him but the last thing he expected were tears. However, Damian looks just as shocked with himself as Jason is and quickly bites his lip.

“Can I stay the night?” Damian asks suddenly, throwing another red flag up in Jason’s mind. Whatever is going on, Damian doesn’t want to go home where his daddy-dearest and perfect oldest brother are probably waiting for him in a panic. He know’s Dickhead is in town. He posted a picture of Alfred the Cat on his Instagram just a few hours ago, saying it felt good to be home.

Jason is almost tempted to grab the brat and stuff him a duffel, lock the zippers with a cable tie and drop him at the front gates for Alfred to find, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this, but then he studies the kid for a moment, seeing a vulnerability in him that he can’t say he’s ever seen before. He sighs.

“Fine. Don’t explain. Go to the couch and play your cute game thing. I’ll be back.”

Damian gives him an unimpressed glare. “It’s not a cute game.”

“I know what Animal Crossing is, sweetie-pie,” Jason says back, ruffling the younger’s hair and biting back a chuckle that tries to escape his throat as Damian tries to whack at his hand. “It’s a cute game.”

Jason watches Damian retreat back to the sofa, but this time the brat puts in some earbuds and curls up between the arm and the back of the couch, bringing his knees to his chest and his hoodie over his head. Jason has to gather all his will power to not roll his eyes as he stands up and goes out to grab his—thankfully untouched—groceries.

He walks in and begins to take everything out of the bags. He watches Damian out of the corner of his eyes as he does so, but the brat doesn’t move. Just flicks his finger over the screen, perhaps trying to catch a fish or something. He doesn’t dwell on it though, thinking about the tears that had threatened to fall a moment ago. They could have been a trick, a way for Damian to get Jason off his back because it would undoubtedly make Jason too uncomfortable to push more, but at the same time he knows Damian is awful at fake crying. He has a lot of pride stuffed in that little body.

He shakes his head and begins to sort the cans for storage, leaving a few out for dinner he guesses. He was planning on just going to the Batburger—because the Chinese restaurant next door gave him a night in the bathroom to remember the last time he ate there—and grabbing something filled with carbs, but now that the little bat-brat is here that’s sort of thrown out the window. He’s still hungry though.

Lets see, he has a can of sloppy joe, some buns in the pantry that are hopefully not moldy yet, and some mixed vegetables. Easy.

He begins to pull out various pots and pans to begin the last second dinner. It doesn’t take long for the meat to start sizzling while the vegetables just barely begin to warm. He sets a pan lid over the meat and lets it simmer as he goes to grab the buns and some American cheese slices. He eyes Damian as he does so, noting how the kid hasn’t moved since Jason had told him he could stay.

Whatever. It’s not his problem. He’s not worried about the tyke at all...

When everything is finally heated and warm it suddenly occurs to him that Dick has mentioned here and there that Damian was actually vegetarian. Jason curses and opens the fridge, looking for anything that’s leafy and green. Thankfully, he manages to scrape together a sad amount of green lettuce and half a tomato. He sniffs a bottle of ranch and looks at it’s expiration date and wrinkles his nose. He’ll let Damian choose if he wants ranch or not. He grabs two plastic plates and places his own Joe with cheese down on one plate and scoops out a helping of corn, peas, and carrots while he makes a terribly depressed salad on the other. He sighs and adds double the helping of vegetables onto Damain’s plate. If only he had shredded cheese or croutons or even garbanzo beans...

He plops himself down next to the kid and clears his throat, placing Damian’s sad sad meal down on the coffee table with his bottle of devious ranch and then digs into his sloppy joe, grabbing a remote to turn on the TV to something probably boring and dumb.

He watches as Damian wrinkles his nose slightly at his meal, and Jason almost prepares himself to snap that he did his best, but Damian surprises him and takes the plate into his lap. He takes out his earbuds and clicks his phone off, shifting so he can see the TV better.

Thankfully Jason manages to find a channel that’s replaying Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire so the silence between the two of them isn’t as awkward as it could be. Damian picks at his browning salad and makes a move to communicate.

They watch the movie in silence, and Jason finds himself not being able to actually concentrate as his mind keeps wondering what could be up with Damian.

-o-o-o-o-

“Alrighty,” Jason says, clapping his hands together as the movie credits begin to roll. “Goodnight.”

Damian doesn’t say anything as Jason gets up and gathers the paper plates to throw them away. Jason is determined to just go to bed and not deal with any of this in the morning. Sure, he should go out as Hood and take down some gangs, but Damian doesn’t appear to have his costume—let alone a change of clothes—with him and there’s no way Jason is leaving him here alone.

He should just call Dick. Call him and he’d gladly drop everything he’s doing to take the kid away. However, he can’t help but feel a sense of unity when he notices Damain’s phone ding with a little text notification and Damian quickly sliding it away, not even reading it.

Besides, Jason said he could stay the night. What kind of person would he be if he couldn’t make good on his word? He’s an ex-killer not a complete jackass.

He retreats to his room, releasing a sigh and shutting the door. It’s a small house, nothing but a living room, kitchen, master bedroom, and bathroom. Damian will have to sleep on the couch because there’s no way Jason is letting him take his bed. He takes off his shirt and changes into a pair of looser fitting pants as he crawls into the rickety old bed that was discounted at IKEA because someone broke some pieces. The blankets he slips into are thin but many. Well, three. It’s decent enough, he can survive most cold nights with the warmth three thin, threadbare blankets could scrap up.

He closes his eyes, thinking about nothing other than sleep.

He wonders if he has a blanket out there for-

Woah wait. Hold up. Nooope. Go to bed Jason. Go to bed...

Sleep...

It’s a colder night and the living room gets colder than the bedroom...

But it’s warm in his blankets so he won’t worry about it... sleep... sleep sleep sleep...

He peeks his eye open and looks at his phone sitting on the mattress beside his head.

Not even fifteen minutes has passed. He growls and forces his eyes closed, curling his knees so they’re almost touching his chest. Did he lock the door? He’s pretty sure he locked the door. Though, if he didn’t that would mean someone could barge in and the first thing they’d see was a small kid in his day clothes shivering in the cold of the living room with no pillow.

No, he definitely locked the door. He definitely locked it just like how he definitely doesn’t care if a certain demon brat is crashing on his couch in day old clothes with no pillow or blanket.

He opens his eyes, looks at how only a minute has passed and silently curses to himself.

Shit.

He cares.

He throws the blankets off from his body and slips off the side of his bed to his feet. He looks around his room and grabs at one out of two pillows he was using and then tears off one out of three blankets and stomps towards his door, just to stop and growl as he turns around and finds the smallest shirt and sweats he could find.

He barges into the living room and Damian practically jumps from his curled up position on the couch. Jason ignores the subject of his lack of sleep as he goes to the door, grabs the handle, and giggles it to make sure it’s locked.

It’s locked.

He turns heel and Damian is watching him as if he’s grown a second head. Jason ignores the stare and dumps the pile of fabric in his arms onto the kid. Damian squawks but Jason ignores that and storms back to his room, trying to ignore the goosebumps on his arms and chest from the cold of the room and how he’s making a thirteen year old kid sleep out here and- NOPE! He’s not worried about it. He gave him a blanket and pillow and even some of his own clothes. Damian will survive and Jason will sleep.

He hits his pillow, trying not to mourn the girth he’s lost beneath his head because he’s too nice of a guy sometimes, and curls up in his two blankets, fighting off the threat of shivers from going out into the chilly air. He eventually warms up, just like actual sleep begins to lure him, and soon he’s not thinking about much of anything...

...

Was that a sniffle?

His eyes creek open against his will. Time has felt like it moved, and when he glares at his phone to see two hours has passed he curses the gods for making this night as difficult as possible. He’s about to close his eyes again when the something that woke him up that he had almost forgot about sounds again.

A sniff. From the other side of the door. It sounds wet, like it belongs to a runny nose and his eyebrows come together. Yeah it’s cold out in the living room but not that cold. He closes his eyes, blaming dramatics, when the sniffle sounds again, but with something else this time that has Jason practically jumping out of his bed like he’s been electrocuted.

A whimper. That was a whimper.

He creeps towards the door, something heavy in his gut, and places his ear on the thin wood.

He can hear it all clearly now. The sniffles, the tiny choked off whimpers of someone trying to not make too much noise, the panting breaths.

Crying. Someone’s crying on the other side of his door and it’s two in the morning and Jason is all of a sudden thinking about the ignored texts, the silent acceptance of not even sub-par food, the cute distracting animal game, the caught in the headlights look when Jason stormed out earlier, the almost desperate way he asked to crash the night here, the angry outburst the he’s not a killer.

Jason doesn’t care. He doesn’t. This is Dick’s job. Not Jason. Jason is the family black sheep who people avoid unless they want something, and Jason avoids them right back. Dick is the big, caring, older brother while Jason is the distant outcast. Jason doesn’t care if Damian is in his living room crying. He really, truly, awfully, lyingly doesn’t care.

Shit.

He cares.

crying opens his door slowly and the sniffling and whimpering instantly cuts off. The door swings slowly open and Jason is left standing in his doorway watching as Damian wipes furiously at his eyes and glares at the opposite side of the room, curling up and biting his lower lip to perhaps stop it from trembling.

“What do you want, Todd,” Damian snarls, but his voice tremors and Jason has to fight down the panic threatening to escape his throat because he has no clue what to do. Here’s some kid who’s legally his youngest brother who’s swimming in his too big clothes with tear tracks down his cheeks and Jason cannot think of a single thing to do.

What would Dick do? Dick would smile and probably gather the kid up in a hug and say everything will be okay and other soppy comforting crap. Jason runs the scenario out in his head, imagines him trying to approach the kid with open arms to give him a hug. Strangely enough, while he can easily imagine Dick and Damian ending up cuddling or whatever, Jason can only see himself writhing on the floor with a knife between his ribs.

So, the Dick-protocol is out. Jason needs to do something else, and quick.

He grinds his jaw and forces himself to leave the safety of the room. Damian watches him warily as he slowly sits up and backs up to the corner of the sofa, furthest from where Jason is approaching from. Jason gives the kid a side eyed glance before he grabs at the remote and turns on the TV.

Jason isn’t the best with cuddles or comfort, but the least he can do is sit it out and let Damian decide what the next step is, even if Jason has to sit here shirtless in the chilly living room with the TV turned low on some Spanish soap channel for the rest of the night.

Somehow, Damian doesn’t fight that. He just wipes his eyes again, getting rid of most evidence of tear tracks, and then settles into his corner, stubbornly watching the TV.

Forty minutes into the soap marathon, right when someone is revealed to not be the father—gasp—something finally happens.

Damian speaks.

“Do you regret it?” Says a small voice in a whisper. Jason turns his head and he almost has to squint his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. Damian is valiantly avoiding his gaze, staring straight at the TV. His hands are nervously pulling at the strings of his borrowed sweatpants though, which is a sight Jason never thought he’d see.

“Regret what?” He questions.

Damian worries his lip for a second and something shiny swims in his eyes. Jason remains silent until Damian finally speaks. “Killing those people.”

Finally, Damian looks at Jason and he looks so vulnerable and scared and Jason is pretty sure this is all just some sort of fever dream because what the hell. His brain short circuits and restarts as he tries to gather his thoughts, but suddenly all his thoughts are nothing more than green anger as he hacks through the necks of drug dealers and stuffs heads in duffel bags. Thoughts lined with lividity as he shoots at rapists and murderers and gets blood splattered on his red mask. Thoughts of holding the Joker against his chest, pressing the point of his gun against the psychopaths temple and screaming a choice at Bruce.

The Joker, or him.

He absentmindedly reaches for the scar on his neck; it’s a unique one for the fact it’s not one that he gained in death nor in his autopsy. It’s thin and precise and did just enough damage for Jason to accidentally let go of the Joker and grab at the sharp batarang sticking out from his neck, blood already leaking through his fingers. Proof that Bruce would rather slice his neck than let a mindless murderer continue to breathe. A permanent reminder that Jason isn’t as important as some no-kill-rule. A warning he should never attempt something like that ever again.

He’s been doing better. He hasn’t killed anyone since... since forever. His bullets are not ones made to kill. His aims are not lethal. When he shoots he shoots because he has to, and he’s been forcing himself to use his fists first.

Does he regret it? Does he regret getting so angry and hurt and confused that he killed dozens of people just to get Black Mask angry so he could get to Joker and therefore Batman? Does he regret the blood on his hands? The hours clutching his chest in the shower after the first life he took, scrubbing at his skin so it’s red and raw, repeating over and over and over to himself that this will all be worth it. The days avoiding the freezer where he stored the severed heads until he had all of them because he was afraid he’d puke? The months convincing himself that beating his replacement senseless would be worth it?

Does he regret it?

He clutches the material of his pants with one hand and rubs the length of his scar with his other, taking a deep breath.

“No.”

Damian’s eyes widen slightly in shock, and Jason realizes he was expecting a different answer. He clears his throat, fights the urge to hug himself like he’s raw and vulnerable. An animal on display.

“I don’t regret killing those people. But if I was sent back in time and given the option to redo everything... I wouldn’t have done it.”

“I don’t understand,” Damian says and Jason releases a bitter chuckle.

“I’m a different person now, and back then killing those people I felt was the only thing I could do. I used to... sit and wonder about what I could have done differently, what I could have changed, but I decided it isn’t worth it. I killed those people in cold blood, and if I regret it now then I won't be able to move on. So no, I don’t regret it.”

“Oh.”

There’s a moment of silence and Jason sighs. “Look, I enjoy talking about my past as much as the next guy, but why do you bring it up?“

Damian bites his lip again, and Jason almost worries that sooner or later he’s going to draw blood with his sharp canines, but Damian brings his legs to his chest and stars absentmindedly at the TV as some chick slaps another chick for whatever reason.

“I regret them,” Damian whispers, and Jason decides now would be a wise time to remain silent. “I killed people because my mother and grandfather said it was my birthright too. I was superior and they were worthless. I never... thought anything of it. Until now.” He takes a shaky breath and continues, rubbing his eye with his shoulder. “I promised Grayson I would never kill again, and I’ve always intended to keep that promise for myself if not for him. B-but father doesn’t trust me all the time and it’s hard t-to think that I’m ever going to live up to that promise when he’s constantly telling me how I could have slipped up or how I could have killed... killed somebody a-and it’s been three years since- and why doesn’t he trust me? Why does he always think I’m... I’m gonna...”

He breaks off into a painful sounding sob and Jason watches wide eyed, completely at a loss of what to do. He sits there and watches as Damian explains through sobs that someone died yesterday, a criminal he was chasing. The man accidentally slipped off the docks into the freezing, churning, unforgiving water of Gotham Bay and drowned before Robin could safely get down to him. Batman arrived just as Robin pulled his dead body back onto the docks. Batman tried to resuscitate him, but with no luck.

Robin was benched, blamed for his death, and Nightwing didn’t take his side.

Bruce said he could have reacted faster. Dick chose to try and stay in the middle but ended up just getting Bruce mad at both of them and Damian feeling betrayed.

It’s no wonder Damian ran out and was ignoring every text message sent his way. He feels like his whole world has turned against him. Jason is almost tempted to let the kid stay more than the night.

Somehow, Jason’s managed to scoot closer to the crying kid, and somehow, Damian’s ended up under his arms. Leaning against his chest, crying and letting the warm tears run down his cheeks and against Jason’s skin. It feels personal. It feels open. It feels secret and sacred.

Jason clutches the kid closer, and he doesn’t say a thing because he doesn’t know what to say quite yet.

He just holds him, then when Damian tires himself out and his eyes become puffy and half-lidded, Jason gathers him up and carries him to the bedroom, his arms too full to turn off the TV. Damian instantly curls up into his side as he lays them both down onto the bed, dragging the sheets.

People die on patrol, yet Bruce seems to be the hardest on them when it’s the criminals who die. Victims, choking on their own blood and crying, eyes going milky, but Bruce only sees the criminal that Jason aloud to get shot by their own partner, he only sees the thug Jason aloud to get stabbed through the gut when Joker got sick of them. It’s a whole, vile system Bruce has. When victims die, it’s no one’s fault, but when the bad guys die, they should have been strong enough and brave enough and fast enough to stop it.

Jason doesn’t think Bruce will ever trust Jason not to kill. He doesn’t think Bruce will ever trust Damian not to kill.

So the least Jason can do right now while Bruce seethes and Dick tries to mediate is hold Damian a little tighter as a promise that Jason is on his side instead of the people who are supposed to be.

He hopes it’s enough. Because it’s truly the least he can do.

#jason todd #damian wayne #red hood #robin #dc #dc comics #batman comics #fan fic #batfamweek2020 #jin writes

93 notes · View notes

duhliriouss · 4 years

Text

A Pawn & A King:

Chapter One

AN: This is a long ongoing story that will contain many chapters around 3000 words each. This will contain lots of angst, abuse, smut, drama, conflict, oh and smut! Please let me know if you have any suggestions you would like to see in future chapters. Some constructive criticism is much appreciated as well since this is my first FanFic. If you haven’t already, please read the Prologue below before proceeding to chapter one. Enjoy!

Prologue

Warnings: swearing, therapy, angst, abuse, self harm, mental illness

Summary: Y/N had lived her whole life in Gotham being unappreciated and disgaurded. With no family and an abusive roommate to rely on, Y/N doesn’t have much of a choice to resign anywhere else in the city. Yet she keeps on giving naively until her decent into madness and her meeting of the Joker.

Word count: 3,033

Disclaimer: I do not own Joker - Todd Philips or any character associated in Joker

Chapter One:

Your day carried on like any normal Monday. Surprisingly, you always felt at ease while working at the bank. Away from your reality. Away from anything that resembled your worthless life and place you called home.

You didn’t sleep well last night.

Your last hours dragged as you struggled to hold normal everyday conversations, Yet you always held a smile. No matter how tired you were you tried hard at your jobs. You cared.

You always cared. Too much it always seems. No one ever saw you angry. Your anger only consisted of getting red hot in the checks and running away with tears flying down your face. You’ve always been an emotional person that it make you ache day in and day out.

You felt things intensely.

All this has made you quite the pushover over the years. Someone could slap you across your face and you’d thank them, and/or apologize for anything you might have done wrong.

You hated this about yourself. One of your major flaws was muttering apologies for every action you made. Your psychiatrist has helped you discover over the months it was how your, now deceased brother tormented you all your childhood. And of course not letting you forget the disappointment your father had for you all your childhood years.

You knew you shouldn’t be sorry for most of the things you apologized for. But you’ve lost control on how to handle yourself when the real moments came.

The clock hit 4:00 pm and it was finally time to finish the rest of your exhausting day.

You swallowed hard as your feet left the building.

You didn’t like walking through the allies and streets of Gotham. You were used to being alone and even though you’ve walked alone in these streets over and over day by day, you always clenched yourself tightly looking down at your feet as you walked a steady pace, only focusing on point A to B.

Walking by people fighting and screaming, creepy men whistling as you hurried by, ignoring the robberies and drug deals as you focused your attention on the ground was a daily thing in Gotham. Yet it never ceased or lowered your fear.

You made your way to the train station and took a seat. You finally looked up to take in your surroundings for the first time since you left the bank.

Graffiti scattered most of the walls, mixed with flyers and Thomas Wayne For Mayer posters. Your eyes darted carefully around you to find just a few other passengers. Not sensing anything intimidating you focused your attention back on the poster.

Moving Gotham Forward

you huffed a small laugh quietly under your breath. You didn’t give a shit about politics. But some things you couldn’t help but chuckle at.

The city has always been run by the rich. Spilling their euphonious sounding lies as the city eats it up year by year. And when you see Wayne on the news, You don’t see a difference. That was one thing you wouldn’t let yourself be a pawn over.

“How’s your job”

“It’s good.”

“Home?”

“Fine”

You kept your eyes down fidgeting and twisting your cigarette in between your fingers.

Every week your multiple breakdowns gave you mental notes to talk about in your therapy sessions. Yet when the time came... you just sat there. Struggling to say anything at all.

The quietness and the burning of her eyes on you quickened your heart rate.

“Have you been journaling like I asked”

“No Mam” Your voice was soft and apologetic.

“And why’s that?”

You finally lifted your gaze to meet hers

“I don’t have time, I never have any time”

“Ah”

You watched silently as she traced her pen over the stacks in her folder printed with your name. Silence filling the room again.

“How does it feel coming here every week, having someone to talk to. Does it help?”

You took your time trying to find the right answer. You didn’t know. You never really knew anything once you sat in that seat. Once you walked through those doors you WERE a closed door, fumbling over your words. Frustrating yourself when you couldn’t find them.

“I - I don’t know. I think it was better for everyone around me when I was locked up in the hospital”

Your sentence started off nervous but as your heart rate slowed to your words, you felt the familiar numbness hit your chest.

Unbeknownst to you, your physiatrist noted the strangely similar, yet still different personalities you and someone else shared.

“I’m here to help you, you shouldn’t let yourself feel a burden to the world around you”

You couldn’t help but let out a cold, almost sarcastic laugh. Taking a drag off your cigarette you shifted your body to sit up straighter. You replayed her words in your head and frowned shamefully, Furrying your brows together and keeping your gaze downward

“I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at the fact you’re trying to help me. I just -“

You didn’t struggle with your words this time. You simply didn’t know how to tell her you’ve been living with someone whom has beat you countless times, made you feel more of a burden than anyone else. Never mind everyone else in your life. You didn’t have a family because of your burdens. No one at your jobs appreciated you and now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who has actually appreciated you for you.

But what can you do? You were stuck. You didn’t have any other choices in Gotham to resign to. And being manipulated by Harvie for years now.. frankly, you were just too scared to make any decisions in your life.

You noticed you haven’t said anything in awhile.

You looked up again at the woman you knew didn’t truly care about the struggles you went through. Her eyes stayed down at your papers, flipping through the pages.

“You’re on 3 different medications, Y/N. Would you like me to up the dosa-“

“Yes, please”

You responded fast and eagerly. You’d do anything to not feel so bad anymore.

“Alright..” her words were flat and unamused.

“I’ve also been noticing your Bipolar Disorder has been more; manic recently. I’m going to prescribe you Lamotrigine. Just don’t take it in the afternoon with your anxiety med, and start taking your birth control in the morning instead. Taking all these together can make you become rather reckless.”

Your mind drifted off at “manic”. You stared past her left shoulder as she continued to speak into a complete zone out.

You were precisely dead inside.

“Can you remember that?”

Your eyes darted back to her. You gave her a warm fake-like, but believable smile and nodded your head

“Yes mam, thank you”

Her eyes studied you carefully then up at the clock that hanged over the door behind you.

“It seems our time is a little over schedule”

You both stood from your chairs rhythmically

“Let me know how you’re feeling next week”

“What?”

“You know, any side affects, nausea, change in mood”

“Oh yes.. right. Okay” you gave one last, sheepish smile before turning on your heels to the door. Keeping your head down preparing yourself to face the public again.

You opened the door quite fast and started to walk, fumbling to try and get your hands into your coat pockets to pull out another cigarette. Before you could take a third step you bumped right into something solid.

You bumped into someone. You clumsily tried to take a few steps back but a pair of strong hands kept you in place from falling, both hands on your elbows.

Your face shot up to look at the face of who you just humiliated yourself in front of.

But you were met with gorgeous, humbling green eyes.

“Oh.. hi Arthur” your cheeks instantly flushed still embarrassed and not sure how to react. As your eyes stayed locked, you took in his features being so uncomfortably close to him. His hair was slicked back and his lips curved into a slight smile, making the crows feet on the corner of his eyes accentuated

“Im so sorry, clearly I don’t pay attention to my surroundings as often as I should”

He let out a breathy laugh, letting go of your arms. You now kept your eyes to your feet.

“Where are you so eager to get to anyway?”

“I’m not sure. Just in my own little world I guess. I uh.. also have to stop at the corner store to pick up some food items for dinner tonight. Then I have to go to the laundry mat to put in a couple hours..”

You found yourself rambling. He didn’t need this much explanation. Stop talking!

You finally stopped and cleared your throat along with one deep breath. Not hearing anything you decided to slowly look up and meet his gaze. Arthur almost looked as nervous as you were. But he still held a somewhat amused smile.

“Y/N, are you alright? You seem more flustered than usual”

“Yes I’m fine.. just a busy a schedule today is all. Again, I’m sorry for running into you.”

He studied your face as you spoke. Noticing the dark bags that had accumulated under your beautiful (y/e/c) eyes. His eyes then wandered to your flushed cheeks before briefly landing on your plump red lips. You suddenly felt attacked under his gaze and tried it focus on anything else around the hallway.

Arthur noticed this.

Feeling awkward for clearly making you more uncomfortable he cleared his throat and went to stutter out a goodbye before entering the room you just left seconds before. But instead surprised himself with the boldness of what he said instead

“Would you like to get coffee tonight?”

“I - I can’t, I have to work and and cook dinner for Harvie and I tonight”

“Oh.. right” he laughed nervously “sorry that was stupid of me to ask..”

“It’s okay”

A silence filled the hallway

“Hey, can I uh” he slicked his hair back anxiously “can I at least give you my number? You could really use a real cup of coffee sometime this week. just call me on a night your not so busy, maybe?”

His sudden boldness caught you off guard.

You and Arthur didn’t know each other well. But you’ve been acquaintances for some time, and have run into each other quite often.

You first met when you had group therapy sessions together from time to time when you both were in Arkham State Hospital.

You also saw him once in awhile at the laundry mat when he picked up him and his mother’s clothes

And now coincidentally enough, you both saw the same physiatrist in the same day. He always was the appointment after yours. It has left huge opportunity’s for small talk. Which you both indulged in any chance you could get.

Most conversations you both shared with each other were rather awkward and short. But there was this strange feeling that made you not mind so much.

You could sit for hours in awkwardness with this man. He never intimidated you. And you felt more yourself in his presence.

But you still didn’t really know anything about him except that he lives and takes care of his mother and lives down the block from you.

“ s-sure..”

you looked up innocently at him. You didn’t think about your answer as it just poured out of you. You felt like you were under a spell Everytime he spoke to you. Especially now.

He gave you a ear to ear grin at your answer which was short stopped when you both noticed there was no pen or paper.

“I have a pen!” You unnecessarily shouted.

You dug through your black crossbody cotton-like purse and pulled out a pen with the banks name printed on the side.

“Here! I uh.. don’t have a piece of paper though...”

he chuckled at your ditziness and took two strides over to you until he was mere inches from you. Taking the pen from you

Your heart skipped. Adrenaline shooting up your spine deliciously.

You didn’t realize how much taller he was, your head only reaching to the mid of his chest.

Your nostrils filled with a sweet smell of cigarettes and a slight scent of .. some sort of mint?

You felt dizzy

“Can I see your hand?”

Without a word you lifted your left hand just enough for him to snatch it and it up bring it up to his chest. He began to write his number on the back of your hand.

You twitched to the sudden pressure he put against the skin with the ball of the pen.

neither of you spoke as he took his time to write. Your eyes instinctively fluttered shut, enjoying the gentle and subtle contact your body hasn’t felt for a very long time.

After finishing he gently let go of your hand. Bringing it back to yourself, you examined his work. Taking in the attempt he had made to try and hide his messy handwriting which failed beautifully.

You looked back up at him, your cheeks beaming red

“See you around, Arthur”

The air was heavy as you turned and walked away down the short hallway as fast as you could , overstimulated by everything that just happened. You needed to be alone outside again so you could breath and make sense of everything.

“See yuh” he let out softly, Barley enough for you to hear before shutting the main door behind you.

Once outside you turned and leaned your back against the old concrete wall, eyes shut and arms against your chest. You took a minute to breath. Once your heart rate slowed down you opened your eyes again and fumbled in your coat pockets again to light a cigarette. You took one long inhale then managed yourself to peel yourself off the wall and continue on with your day.

You were still very much flustered. You could not for the life of you stop thinking about what just transpired.

There was always a weird flirtatious vibe when you and Arthur had some time to converse,

but this was different.

You suddenly had a new feeling towards him that left bursts of butterfly’s go up your body.

You tried to shake it off as you got back on the train to go to your second job.

You were a little late. 10 minutes to be precise.

You walked through the doors of the laundry mat to find your boss, Nyle sitting at the register area looking not so amused

“You’re late, Y/N” he didn’t look up from his paperwork that was laid out on the desk

“I know I’m so sorry, I just..” You couldn’t lie. “I uh, my therapy app-“

“You think I need a fucking reason? You show up and do the fucking job. You only do three and a half god damn hours. If you can’t do something that fucking simple, you’re fired”

Tears sprung in your eyes at his words. You never got used to Nyle yelling at you. He was an old miserable man that was never happy no matter how well you preformed. Every little mistake was taken seriously.

“Y-you’re firing me?”

“Oh give me a break. You’re gonna cry now? You act like this the first time something like this has happened. You’re either late or you never do what I ask”

“I’ve only been late a small handful of times since I’ve worked here over a year ago! And I do what you ask of me all the time! It’s never good enough for you because your expectations don’t make any sense!”

Your breath caught in your throat and your body started to tremble. You shook as you felt heat rise all throughout yourself.

“Get out”

You turned and flung the doors open to leave, tears streaming down your face. You held on to yourself tightly as your turned into a dark ally and let yourself drop against the brick walls.

Audible cries left you and you didn’t care who was around to hear.

You took in your surroundings and didn’t see anybody. Piles of trash filled the ally and around yourself. You looked up but the cities buildings towered over blocking the sky.

You closed your eyes, your head raised against the brick. You muted your sobs so you could listen.

You heard a couple’s argument around the corner of the other side of the ally, sirens in the distance, more screaming that seemed even father away, and groups of laughing and clattering coming from a pub next to the ally side you just entered.

You started to silently laugh to yourself. Looking down at your cigarette, twisting and turning it between each finger. Your legs were half bent displayed out in front of you.

You stared at the amber of the cigarette while still listening to the cities commotion.

Without much thought you slowly turned the cigarette so the amber floated just centimeters from the back of your right hand. You slowly pressed it against your skin listening to the sizzle as it bubbled your delicate skin. You didn’t twitch or move to the sudden pain it Illuminated.

Instead you managed to display a small genuine smile.

The smell of burn skin hit your nostrils. You pushed harder until the cigarette was out completely, letting it fall from your hand.

Closing your eyes again you started singing softly to yourself.

( quick AN: Let’s stay together - Al Green)

Whatever you want to do

Is all right with me

Cause you make me feel so brand new

And I want to spend my life with you

You were talking about yourself

The familiar imaginary music beaming in your head. Your head stayed up against the cold brick, a sinful smile stretched ear to ear. Your arms laid stretched out to either side of your body Your voice cracking as you sung:

Oh baby

Let’s, let’s stay together

Lovin you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, or happy or sad

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addicted-to-dc · 5 years

Text

Red Hood’s Little Monster (Part 6)- Red Hood/Jason Todd X Gender fluid!Reader

Welp, I’m actually posting something! Hopefully you all will enjoy this VERY long fic. Also, I currently do not have my tag list on me, so I cannot tag anyone for a while, not until I can find my list.

Warnings: Anger issues? Flirting?

"Come on, man, you gotta help me out," you begged, barely suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at your own words. "I just need one identity, I don't care who, but I need one now."

Norm shook his head, pacing around the room while biting his nail, "You know that I can't do it in less than a day! I need at least a week in advance to do it, to make sure it is prepared properly and won't get any red flags! You know if you get caught while using a passport and documents from me, that could damage my reputation!"

"Oh come on! You gave me one in three days," you spat, trying to keep your emotions in control, "and I'm offering double the pay that I gave you that time! I don't give a shit what gender, race, hell, I don't care what age, just give me a goddamn passport and a picture of the poor bastard. You know that I can handle situations like these, can you?"

He pointed at you, shaking his hand as he muttered a few curses. Wiping his face, he scratched his beard as he thought up for some type of solution, something that could save him from being killed by you. As soon as he thought of something, he ran into the back room and dug through his things, searching for the one type of person that would guarantee her a way to escape. Grasping onto the documents, he walked back into the room and handed you what you requested.

Looking over the documents, you scanned over the man in the photo. He had a handsome face, but his face would definitely blend in. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight of the photo, making his dark brown eyes look like honey.

"What happened to him?" you asked Norm, pocketing the documents.

"Disappeared without a trace," he replied solemnly. "He had no family, friends, or next of kin, so you will not deal with any unwanted attention."

"Did you know him?" you questioned, watching his eyes shift to the floor. "If this is too personal I will not take-"

"No, take it," Norm stated, waving you off. "He was a... a good guy, a loving one, too, but his kindness got him killed. It's somewhat comforting that a little bit of him will be back, y' know?"

You nodded, "Thank you, Norm. The money will be transferred to you tomorrow, I just need to get a head start before drawing attention to your bank account."

"I know the drill by now," he chuckled, patting you on the shoulder. "Stay safe out there."

"You, too," you replied, adjusting your jacket before leaving the building.

Stepping out into the sun, you pulled your sunglasses onto your face and continued forward, determined to slink back into the shadows like you always did. You had the upper hand now, but for how long? They had more resources than you by far, but it would take time for them to get everything. Your father's quarrel with Bruce Wayne would spark arguments if he requested help from him, but there was the possibility that his familial instincts will suspend the fighting.

Huffing, you moved forward on your path, heading to the nearest alley to shift. It wasn't the most inconspicuous, but it was better than going into a populated area and having questions arise. Leaning against the wall, you breathed heavily as you looked at the picture of the man, absorbing his image into your head as your body started to burn. Gritting your teeth, you felt as your muscles, bones, and other insides shift and grow, creating an exact copy of him. The shift was oddly less painful than your last ones, but you couldn't focus on that now. Pulling your hood up, you stretched out before walking out the other end of the alley, quickly getting used to the height difference of this body.

Opening your wallet, you pulled out the ID of your previous form, folding it in half and snapping it before throwing it into the nearest dumpster. Digging into your pocket, you slid the new one in, staring and memorizing all of the information. He had a California license, had a height of 5'11" and weighed 194 pounds. His birth date was August 20th, 1995, and his address was Norm's. You would read the documents containing more information on the way to your destination, but now you needed to sell the look of someone traveling. Looks like you were going to blow a lot of cash.

--------------

Walking through the airport, you pulled your cheap carry on suitcase, which was filled with clothes and other useless items, as you continued forward. You made sure not to look at the cameras, knowing that it would draw attention to you. Sighing, you glanced around and rubbed your eye, your exhaustion getting the better of you. Your contact had assured you that you wouldn't have to deal with security, especially when you still had your suit on. As advanced as it was, it wouldn't make it past the metal detectors that nearly all were required to pass through.

Clutching the handle, you looked around for your contact, searching for her obnoxious bright red hair. Before you could notice someone running behind you, you felt an impact against your back. It nearly made you throw a punch, but you were able to see her head notched into your neck before you made the mistake. Smiling, you laughed and turned around, hugging her to keep the act going. Her honey-colored eyes stared into yours as the both of you pulled away, but kept close physical contact.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other," she smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, "and I must add that's one delicious form you've taken."

You chuckled at the redhead, remembering how much you hated her personality, "Might I remind you that I am a minor."

"A minor that can shapeshift into a very scrumptious adult," she smirked, removing her hand from your waist, "but I know my boundaries."

She led you through a corridor away from the TSA infested area of the airport. The sound of your footsteps reverberated through the hall, making you scan the area cautiously. From what you memorized of the blueprints of the airport, you were heading back to the loading dock, and your plan did not include going there.

"Is there a bathroom somewhere I can go before we leave?" you asked, looking around. "The coffee is kicking in."

"Don't worry, assassin, they think you're taking a private jet in the opposite direction," she stated, continuing forward. "Your plan worked, but we needed to take a more subtle route to our flight."

You didn't like the change in your plans, but even you knew that she was telling the truth. The Mya you knew wouldn't sell a customer out, especially if the customer could snap her neck before she could realize it, but that didn't mean that this was Mya.

"How's your brother and sister?" you asked, remaining behind her.

"They're okay, Gram is still in college and Grace dropped out, she's focusing on the family business currently," she replied, turning around. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

You shrugged, glaring down at her, "Because Grace is dead, you were the one who asked me to kill her, remember?"

Before she could react, you had her pinned against the wall, using your weight to keep her there. One hand held her own down while the other had her neck in its grip, squeezing just enough to make sure she wouldn't try anything.

"Who's helping my father, telepath?" you questioned her, squeezing tighter.

She dropped her disguise, revealing herself to be Miss Martian and telling you everything you needed. Without hesitation, you released her and let her fall to the ground. You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated beyond belief.

"How did they find me?" you asked yourself pacing around, completely ignoring the incapacitated Martian beneath you. "This chase needs to end right now, I can't stand this frustrating goose chase."

Rubbing your face, you sighed and glanced at the Martian, examining her while she tried to recover her breath. She was a white Martian, which was rather odd all things considering. You couldn't remember if they were outcasts of Mars or something else, but you didn't care at the moment.

"Are they waiting for me at the exit?" you asked, watching as she nodded 'yes'. "Well, I better go greet them."

Continuing down the corridor, you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was about to occur. There had to be more than one hero helping them out, there definitely had to be. You had to admit you were slightly surprised that heroes would help the Outlaws, but who were you to judge the heroes' choices. They're always going off about 'discovering your better self' and 'forgiveness is always an option if you mean it' or however it's phrased.

You didn't believe in that crap, and you knew that if someone was trying to kill you, you wouldn't be given those options. You were too dangerous to be kept alive, too dangerous to be around potential loved ones when all you had to hear was a few code words to make you lose control and kill those around you. You couldn't risk that, especially when Talia al-Ghul has a thing for your father's family, your adoptive grandfather if you can even call him that.

You resisted the urge to pull out your weapon as you got closer the exit, making it more difficult to keep your nerves on edge. As soon as you rounded the corner, the three Outlaws could be clearly seen blocking the doorway.

"Unpleasant to see you three again," you stated calmly, examining your surroundings. "Where are the other junior heroes?"

"Somewhere around," your father replied coolly. "Now, are you going to come with us consciously or unconsciously?"

"I was expecting to explain everything before you'd make that decision for me," you answered, remaining vigilant. "If I come with you, death will follow. The League of Assassins will see it as an opportunity to weaken its enemies, and I will not be able to stop them from doing so. So, if you value your lives and the ones around you, I suggest you let me disappear and let go whatever semblance of fatherly instinct you developed. I'm not yours, I wasn't raised by you, I wasn't taught to love or look up to you, we just share a genetic code."

You waited for a response, some sort of reaction from your father, but you couldn't identify anything from his body language. His red helmet obscured his face, which gave him the upper hand in this current situation.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, your frustration grew exponentially as his silence continued, "Are you going to just stand there, or actually respond to me?"

He stepped forward, making your hand instinctively go for your weapon, "The League can't touch you, (Y/N), we'll make sure of it."

"You can't be serious," you said, nearly laughing at his statement. "They are everywhere, no matter how secure it is. If they aren't affiliated with them, they are being blackmailed or have their families on a watch. They know how to break anyone, hell, they broke the great Batman many times."

"I am not Batman," he nearly growled, "and the League will have to go through me to get to you."

"This is exactly what they want," you sighed, knowing what would transpire in the future if you went with them.

Arsenal stepped forward, patting your father on the shoulder before looking in your direction, "Listen, kid, we'll make some precautions if that will ease your conscience. Even if it happens, we'll be able to deal with it."

Gritting your teeth, you punched the wall beside you, punching through to the next room. You retracted your hand and sighed, your anger contained for the moment. Thinking about your other options, you could escape them once again, but they would find you again and again. Dusting off your hand, you stomped toward the three adults and walked past them.

"Let's go before I change my mind," you huffed, hoping that you would not regret your decision in the future.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x son!reader #red hood x daughter!reader #jason todd x daughter!reader #jason todd x son!reader #jason todd x genderfluid!reader #jason todd x genderneutral!reader #red hood's little monster

177 notes · View notes

sassycassie-s-writing · 4 years

Text

Playful Friends

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T-

Original Idea: I have a lot of time to think during my job right now so... yeah.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Been a while since I really wrote and this felt so good!

@welovegroot @jason-redhood @bat-shots @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

“Jason!” I exclaimed as my friend opened his apartment door to accept me into a big bear hug. I laughed as he squeezed me. “What is up, my dude? I missed you!”

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound rumbling low in his chest where it pressed against mine, and patted me head. “Not much. Work’s been murder lately,” he said. “But, yeah, I missed you too. It’s been a couple weeks since we could chill. Are you thinking Mario Kart? Because I’m thinking Mario Kart.”

I laughed and let go of the hug. “Oh, you wanna get creamed?” I teased.

“I was thinking more of a rematch for last time,” he replied playfully.

I patted the side of his face. “You’re just mad that I’m better than you at Rainbow Road.”

“No! I’m not!” He paused for a second. “Seriously though, how do you never fall off?”

Winking, I edged around him to slip into his apartment to get out of the cold. “Practice,” I said.

Jason laughed, shut his front door and spun around. He came over to me—I assumed for another hug—but he surprised me by scooping me up, laughing the whole time. I shrieked, scared, before he carried me to his couch and dropped me on it. “There. Now the night can really get started.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t scare me like that ever again,” I snapped. But the actual anger in my tone was diminished somewhat by my laughing. Jason smirked and flopped onto the couch next to me.

“So, shortstop, what brings you to me tonight?”

I whacked him in the arm. “Stop calling me that! We can’t all be as tall and muscular as you!”

Jason just laughed. “Okay okay. I’ll keep the short jokes to a minimum.”

“Sure you will,” I muttered sarcastically, not believing him for a second.

“I will!”

I scoffed. “Shut up. Let’s just make a homemade pizza and let me whip your butt at Mario Kart.”

Jason laughed again. I loved his laugh. He sounded so genuine.

Actually… that was one of my favorite things about Jason in general. He was just genuine. I knew a lot of fake people—ones who put on masks to hide who they really were. Who detached themselves from other people for one reason or another. But not Jason. Jason was real. He felt his emotions and owned them. At least… he did with me. I’d never really seen him around too many other people. Not even his family. Our friend Roy occasionally crashed our game nights but usually hanging out with Jason was a one-on-one thing. He claimed he liked it better that way.

Which I could understand. It was easier not to have to perform emotions for people. And Jason and I had established that we could be real with each other a long time ago. Any space with just the two of us in it was a no-judgment zone. I’d cried in his arms more times than I had in the presence of any past boyfriend. Because Jason and I got each other.

“Alright. Let’s get started on the food and we can play while it bakes.”

Which is exactly what we did. Between the two of us, Jason was the better cook. I mostly sat on the counter and watched. But he let me put the cheese on so I could pick how much. He filled half of it with his toppings and left the other half plain for me. Then it was in the oven and we were on the couch, probably disturbing the neighbors by shouting at each other about how dare you and don’t you dare red-shell me!

Oops.

Jason dropped his controller on the ground. “How do you beat me at Rainbow Road every. D*&%. Time?!” He ran his fingers through his hair and I caught sight of the white streak that hid under his bangs. He’d never told me how he got it and I never asked, but the curiosity was eating me up inside and had been for years. It just never seemed like the right time to bring it up.

I patted his knee. “Because God or the universe or something decided that I could be better than you at one thing. One single, solitary morsel of existence. And that morsel is Rainbow Road in Mario Kart,” I said.

Jason rolled his eyes. “You are better than me in so many ways. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh sure,” I said.

Jason got up as the oven timer went off. “You are,” he insisted.

“Apart from the fact that I can’t cook to save my life, and my sense of style is far less refined than yours. I snooze my way through classic literature yet I claim to love reading. You are a classy dude—even if you try to hide it under a frat-bro façade. You’re a fantastic cook, really well-read and academic. You dress like the most elegant businessman possible when you want to make an impression. And let me tell you: you make an impression. And then there’s me. I look like a vampire who just emerged from her coffin after a three-hundred-year nap half the time. So yeah. Rainbow Road in Mario Kart is basically the only thing that I’m at better than you,” I said.

Jason had pulled out the homemade pizza in the time it took me to spew all that at him.

“Thanks for the confidence,” he said. “But you’re wrong. Your life is so much more put-together than mine. I am a trash fire about ninety-percent of the time.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” I said as Jason slid the pizza off the baking tray and onto a big serving plate and started to slice it up—being careful to keep the toppings separate from the plain side.

“S’pose so,” he agreed.

We dished up the slices we wanted and sat next to each other at his breakfast bar.

A few moments of comfortable silence stretched on between us. We’d always had that easy-going relationship where we understood that we didn’t need to fill every moment with conversation. Hanging out with Jason was basically me-time and I was pretty sure he felt the same way about me.

After a minute, a thought struck me. “Jay, I think you’re working too hard. We should take a trip. Go to… I don’t know. Miami? Orlando? We should just fly to a beach or Disney World for a couple days and get away from everything.”

“Beach is more relaxing, Disney World is more escapist,” Jason mused. “But I can’t just leave Gotham yet.”

“How come?”

“Too busy. I really have to get this project done. But it’s easier when you come over and hang out for a while,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” I teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, if you’re going to tease me about a genuine moment, I could just… not invite you over. I can handle myself just fine on my own, thank you very much,” he said. He took a bite of his pizza to punctuate his point. “I don’t need some girl coming around and poking holes in my pride the way you do.” He had a playful tone to his voice, so I egged him on.

“Then why do you?” I asked. “Hmm? Why do you invite over some girl to poke holes in your pride?”

“Maybe it’s because I think you need some entertainment. Thought you might be getting bored.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Yeah it’s all for you.”

I scoffed. “You are so full of it, Jason Todd!”

“Oh yeah.” He laughed. Then his face sobered up. “But, for real, I wanted you to come over because… there is something I’d like to talk to you about tonight. But not now. When pizza and ice cream are over with.”

I laughed. “Okay. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah it’s fine. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Okay.”

We finished our pizza and after waiting a few minutes—playing another couple rounds of Mario Kart that I beat him at—we had digested enough to have a quick dessert. We each had a bowlful of ice cream, laughing and joking around. Jason stuck his spoon on his nose and then tried to lick the ice cream off his nose when the spoon fell.

I sighed and set my bowl on his coffee table, leaning back on the couch. “Oh man. I missed this. How come it’s been like three weeks since I saw you last, man?”

Jason also sighed. “Been busy and… I’ve been kinda trapped in my own head,” he said, setting his bowl on top of mine on the coffee table.

“How come?”

“Op—you’ve got a little bit of…” He reached out and wiped the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “Ice cream,” he finished.

I snickered and wiped at my own mouth. “Thanks. So what’s up? Why have you been stuck in your head?”

Jason took a deep breath and sighed. “Remember the last time we saw each other? We got in that argument?”

“I recall,” I said.

“Don’t bristle. I know you still think you’re right and you probably are. But that’s not what this is about. I’m not trying to restart that argument. I wanted to… explain something else,” he said. I cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” I asked.

“Look. When you and I first met, all those years ago, I knew there was something powerful in your soul. Your fiery spirit. Your emotional and mental strength. It was stunning. And I was very intrigued on how you would use it. Then a few weeks ago when we got in that argument…” He sighed again. “I don’t know. I saw it again. That passion—that drive. And… it was beautiful.

“And… you know, I know Roy likes to joke that I’m a big brother to you. But… is that all I am? Is that all I am… to you?”

Jason reached out and touched my wrist with his fingertips. My mouth was slack but I hadn’t let my jaw drop yet. Was he really saying this?

He wasn’t done yet though. “Is this just me? I’ve seen the way you look at me and maybe I’m delusional but it doesn’t look like a platonic gaze. I could keep acting like I’m cool with this weird limbo between friends and something more—but I’m not. I just… I need you. I’m dying for you.” He took another fortifying breath. “Now, I’m not expecting any sort of immediate answer. Take your time figuring it—umph!”

His sentence was cut short by me leaning forward and planting my mouth on his.

Jason’s whole body relaxed. His shoulders curled forward and his hands slid over my waist. He let out a small, low sound—a cross between a coo of contentment and a moan of relief. I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck.

He withdrew from the kiss just enough to whisper against my lips, “So… is that a…”

“Shut up, Todd,” I teased. “I’ve been waiting for this. I just didn’t want to scare you off.”

Jason laughed. “Sure,” he replied playfully.

I kissed him again, and he reciprocated hungrily.

“I’ve been waiting years to call you mine,” he whispered.

#Playful Friends #Jason Todd #Red Hood #Jason Todd imagine #Red Hood Imagine #Jason Todd FanFiction #Red Hood FanFiction #DC #DC imagine #DC FanFiction

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huilian · 4 years

Text

with her sweetened breath

AO3 Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne

Summary: With the threat of an airborne drug, the Batfamily has to fight against the clock to contain it.Or, I found a plot hole in a previous fic and decided to write 5k of words to remedy that, but instead created much, much more plot holes.

A/N: In Flameo, Batman! I wrote about how Oracle can only narrow possible locations to 5, which means that the kidnappers are actually good, but then I didn't deliver on the fight scene. So I decided to write this, and ends up with 5k of the batfam actually being detectives. This is written almost in a S.W.A.T. like style, because my dad is obsessed with that show and so I watch it too.title from Hozier, Angel of Small Death and the Codein Scene. I thought it's fitting, since this fic is about drugs. (This is Chapter 1, btw.)

“Hey, Red, is it important? I’m kind of in the middle of a stakeout.” As he says that, Dick sees movement from inside the house. He really cannot keep talking to Tim, not if he wants to get as much information from this stakeout as possible. But Tim rarely calls in the middle of patrol, so Dick is assuming that this is important.

“Oh. Not really. I just want to give you a heads-up about B’s kidnapping a few weeks ago. Turns out there’s more to it than just the kidnapping.”

Dick curses under his breath. He knows that that rescue attempt was too easy for an organization that managed to fool Oracle. “Okay. Do you need me there? I can wrap this up in a few minutes if you need me.”

“Nah, I think between Hood, BB, Batgirl, me, Robin, and Batman, we pretty much got it covered. Just keeping you in the loop.”

“Alright, Red.” If Tim says they can handle it, then they can handle it. Besides, Dick has his own cases to work through. “Thanks for the info. Call if you need help?”

“You’re welcome, N. And sure, I’ll call if we need help.”

“Nightwing! Get your ass here now!”

“Hood? Is something wrong?” It’s been a few days after Tim calls about Bruce’s kidnapping, but since there were no other calls about that, Dick assumes that they are handling it.

“Oracle’ll brief you on the way, she’s currently tied up in something else. Just get your ass here now,” Jason practically shouts to the comm.

“Is this about the kidnapping case?” Dick asks, just to be sure.

“Just get your ass here, Dickwing! We need you here yesterday!”

“Shit, is it that serious?” Dick grabs the keys to his bike from the table. It’s lucky that he’s staying in today, working on connecting leads to the murder case on Young Street. If he’s out on patrol, it would take much longer to get to the bike.

“Oracle’ll give you the full briefing in a couple minutes. I’m also currently in the middle of something…”

Two explosions, one after the other, come in from Jason’s end. It was loud enough to be heard over the comms.

“Hood, are those gunshots?”

“Like I said, I’m currently in the middle of something. Just go to Gotham, we’ll meet you at the Cave.”

“Be careful, Hood.”

“Yeah, yeah, see you there, ‘Wing.”

“Yeah.” Tim shrugs. “Their original plan was to distract us, GCPD, and basically the entire city with Bruce Wayne’s kidnapping. We found broadcasting equipment in the warehouse B was held in. But we rescued B fast enough that they couldn’t really use his kidnapping as a distraction, so now they have to find a new distraction.”

“And their new distraction is to blow up the bridge? Haven’t we been through this before?” Dick remembers another case that he works with Tim that involves blowing up the bridge. He is not looking forward to repeating that.

Tim grimaces. “You have to admit, blowing up the bridge is a pretty big distraction.”

It is a big distraction. Not that Dick is going to admit that now. “How do we know this again? And how did we miss that they are part of a larger group?” Dick turns to Babs, who hasn’t stopped typing into the Batcomputer since he got here.

“Since I am very rarely wrong, I found it suspicious that I found five hits to the possible location of B’s kidnapping, considering how easy you took them out.” That was Dick’s thought too, but he didn’t actually stick around long enough in Gotham after they ‘rescued’ Bruce that he got to say that to anyone. He could blame his abundance of cases in Blud, but he really should have said something. Thank god Babs also finds that odd. “I sent Steph to investigate the four ‘not-it’ warehouses. She found traces of this drug there. It’s a more potent version of fentanyl, almost up there with carfentanil. It has a similar composition to the bloodwork from an OD case a few months ago.”

“We thought it was just a guy experimenting with fentanyl and accidentally OD-ed himself, so we didn’t dig too much into it then,” Tim explains.

“I’m guessing that is not the case here.”

“No.” Tim sighs. “That guy was actually part of the group that kidnapped Bruce. He either stole some for himself and misjudged the dosage, or he was the guinea pig for this drug. We have no time to investigate his death now, not with this new drug threatening to spill on the streets tonight.”

“Tonight? What are they planning?” Dick came to Gotham prepared for any situation, so this information that he is going to have to act sooner rather than later comes as a confirmation rather than information, really. He’s been preparing himself for it as soon as Jason called him. But still, it would have been nice to have been called for something that’s not as immediate as tonight once in a while.

“They’re going to release this drug to the air. They have an airbender, which makes it so much easier for them,” Babs says. Airbender plus airborne drugs equals very bad news, especially with drugs as potent as carfentanil. It can cause hundreds of OD cases throughout the entire city. Is Gotham not already crazy enough for these people? “We think that they want to get the entire city hooked on this drug, then sell it to them at a very high price.”

“Damn. Tonight, you say? Is there why it’s only the three of us here?”

“Yeah. B’s with Cass and Damian coordinating with the GCPD on containment and evacuation.” Tim points to three dots, designated Batman, Robin, and Black Bat, on the GCPD building up on the map.

“Smart. Cass and Damian may be the only ones capable of containing this kind of scenario.”

“Steph and Jason are out on the docks, trying to scare some of the goons to giving up their boss’ location.” Tim points to another two dots. These two are actually moving pretty fast. Dick assumes that the two of them are chasing some goons.

“Wait,” Dick frowns, “we still don’t know their location?” That can’t be good.

“We figured out the locations of some of the caches they put to be released to the air, but we can’t guarantee that that’s all of them. And, considering the sizes of the warehouses that were used to store the drugs and the caches we’ve found, there’s still a significant amount of drugs missing. Those must be with the boss,” Babs says.

“Which is why I’m here with Babs, trying to track them down. Also, it seemed that this drug is flammable, so I thought it’s prudent to stay out of the field.”

Tim actually has remarkably good control over his fire and he can fight just fine without his bending, all of them could, but Dick currently does not have time to debate that. He files it in his mental note for a later date. “Okay, what do you need me to do?”

Babs and Tim look at each other. “A third pair of eyes won’t hurt,” Tim says.

“Don’t you think it’s better for him to be out on the streets? Hood and Batgirl haven't checked in yet, they might be in trouble.”

Right as Babs finished that sentence, the Cave’s speaker turns on. “Hood to the Cave, Hood to the Cave.”

“Speak of the devil,” Babs says.

Dick presses the mike button on the cave, then says, “Come in, Hood.”

“Oh, good, you’re here, ‘Wing. O, Red, we got several locations, but they’re all contradicting each other. I don’t know how useful this is going to be.”

“Any additional data is going to be useful, Hood. Where is it?” Babs opens a new window on the Batcomputer, ready to type in and analyze everything Jason is going to say.

“One said that he’s on Crime Alley, 31st Street. Another one said he’s camping near Arkham, just a few blocks from it. One said he’s on the grounds of Gotham U.”

“Fuck him very much for that, by the way. Who tries to release drugs on university grounds? Haven’t college students suffered enough?”

“Focus, Batgirl.”

“Right. Some of them said he’s on Robinsville, but some also said he’s on the Bowery, King’s Street. For all it’s worth, all of them seemed very sure about their answers, and they’re all also confused about why their fellow henchmen are giving out different answers.”

“How sure are they?” Tim asks.

“Sure enough that the firebenders are willing to get iced,” Jason says grimly.

“Damn.”

“Yep.”

“How come this guy is in five places at once?” Babs frowns at the screen. “Maybe these are just decoys?”

“No, I don’t think so, Babs. For a firebender to be willing to get iced, they must be super sure of themselves. Even I don’t want to get iced.” Tim shivers. Dick knows for a fact that Steph has once iced Tim, so Tim is speaking from memory at that one. Dick has been iced before too, but the experience is totally different for a firebender, what with their source of power being the fire inside and all. “Oh, that reminds me. Hood, please tell me you didn’t actually ice them.”

“Nah, Replacement.” Tim sighs in relief. “Blondie here did.”

“What!” Tim exclaims.

“Shut up, Hood! I can and will ice you too!”

“Try it, Blondie. I’m a waterbender too, remember?”

“Children, focus,” Babs says. “Let’s assume that this guy is in five places at once. How is he doing that? Meta powers? Spirit world connection? If he has a spirit world connection this case might just turn out to be worse than it already is.”

“Wait,” Dick says, tracing the five places Babs has highlighted on the map. “What if he’s not in five places at once?”

“Are we not acting on the assumption that the henchmen are giving accurate information?” Babs looks at him.

“It can be accurate without him being in five places at once, Babs. What if he’s just moving between these places so fast that when they check in to see where he is, they all get different answers?”

“Huh. That is certainly more plausible. But the speed in which he must have moved suggests that…”

“He’s an airbender. Only airbenders can move that fast. It tracks, though. We already know they have an airbender to release the drug. That airbender is just the boss.”

“If he’s the airbender, he can make sure that he inhaled none of the drugs himself. Oh!” Babs claps her hands. “That’s genius, Former Boy Wonder!”

“Hey, I’m a former boy wonder too!” Jason cries out.

“Same here!”

“I literally had the longest run as Robin, after N here,” Tim adds.

Babs sighs. “You guys really are children, aren’t you? Someone not me please tell Batman about this. I’m going to run an analysis on airbenders outside the League who’s in Gotham right now. There shouldn’t be too many of them.”

“Speaking of the League,” Dick turns to Tim, “are we sure it’s not them?”

“I don’t think so, ‘Wing. This is not their MO.”

“Yeah. Besides, neither Talia nor Ra’s have any interest in these kinds of drugs. I don’t think it’s them.”

If both Tim and Jason, their current resident expert on the League, say that it’s not the League, then Dick is inclined to believe them. They have spent a considerable amount of time with the League to not pick up on their tendencies. “Okay. Let’s rule out the League for now. Any hits yet, Babs?”

“No. There are still quite a few airbenders around, even discounting the League, you know?”

Dick nods. Even though most of the airbenders are present in the League, there are still several groups outside of the League who have their own airbenders. Not to mention the occasional airbenders who’re not affiliated with any of the groups but still managed to master their craft.

Then, the Cave is bathed in red light, with alarms sounding from all the speakers in the Cave.

Dick curses. “What’s that, Red?”

“It’s Bruce’s alarm. Whoever he is, he’s making his move now.”

“Alright, Hood, Batgirl, head over to B’s location now. I’m also moving out right now. Red, you coming?”

“No, I’ll look into containment options other than airbending from here. I’m not risking a city wide fire.”

Dick nods. He really needs to have that conversation with Tim about why he doesn’t want to go out to the field today, but that unfortunately has to wait. “Oracle, keep us posted. B’s in GCPD headquarters, yes?”

“That’s what his last location is. His tracker is down.”

“What about Robin’s? Or Black Bat’s?” Dick asks.

“They’re still at GCPD.”

“Okay. I’m heading to GCPD now. Hood, Batgirl?”

“Already on our way, ‘Wing!” Steph says.

“Good.” Dick mounts his bike and zooms out of the Cave door that either Tim or Babs must have opened for him. He tries to hail Bruce on the way to GCPD. “Nightwing to Batman, Nightwing to Batman, come in.”

Silence.

Dick tries again. “Nightwing to Batman, Nightwing to Batman, come in!”

The same as before, silence. The fact that both Batman’s tracker and his comm are down is very concerning, especially at nights like this, when Bruce knows he has to communicate with the entire family.

“Shit. Oracle, Batman’s not answering. When did his tracker go down?”

“His tracker went down right before he pinged the Cave,” Babs says. “Try hailing Robin. I’ll hail Black Bat. Maybe they know where Batman went.”

“‘Kay, O. Nightwing to Robin, Nightwing to Robin.”

Static. At least it’s not silence, which meant that Robin still has his comms, he just can’t reach it to answer. That’s marginally better. Still not reassuring, though.

“Oracle, I’m getting static from Robin’s com.”

“I’m getting the same thing from Black Bat’s com. Maybe they are in the middle of containing the drugs? That would make them unable to answer the coms.”

Dick wills his bike to go even faster, even as he’s already riding at breakneck speed. “Maybe, O. Let’s hope it’s not something worse.”

#dc #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #barbara gordon #damian wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #fic #lian writes

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