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sundrop-writes · 5 months

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Your First Kiss With Jason Todd

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

Jason always thought he hated you. He did hate you.

Until he didn't.

Until his love for you ruined him in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader. Frenemies to Lovers. Pure Angst (Hurt, No Comfort). Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 8,200

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic is almost entirely angst - hurt, no comfort. This fic does not have a happy ending!!! So be warned of that before you enter here. Jason and the reader are described as ‘hating’ each other, but they are more like frenemies/annoyances - they have a playful banter (at the time, even they don’t know that they like arguing because it’s sexual tension and passion for each other); the reader is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; this is mostly written from Jason’s POV (which is where most of the angst comes from); Jason describes himself as a ‘zombie’ or ‘half-alive’ - but he is fully alive and has all of his mental faculties, he is just freaked out about the fact that he was resurrected; the reader does not have any meta powers, but is described as being very good at combat (this does not denote the reader’s body type); mentions of sex and some sexual themes - but there is no outright smut and no detailed descriptions of sex; mentions of negative stereotypes surrounding frat boys/frat houses - including STDs and group sex (mentioned in a negative light); mentions of Jason masturbating (and thinking about the reader while doing it); mentions of Jason’s canon trauma (being kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, dropped off the building); mentions of Jason being killed by the Joker (and being ressurected by Crane); mentions of the reader mourning Jason’s death; mentions of drugs and drug addiction (based around the canon storyline of the anti-fear gas); mentions of Jason’s trauma surround his mother’s drug addiction; mentions of Jason killing Hank (as in the canon); the reader is kidnapped (by Crane or someone who works for Crane) and held hostage, and later rescued by Jason; somewhat graphic descriptions of violence (Jason beating up Crane, other background instances), gory descriptions of a death toward the end (mentions of acid burns and choking on non-breathable air); major character death - the reader character does die. Like I said - no happy ending. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: This is set during Season 3 - and this does feature spoilers for Season 3 if you haven't seen Titans before. So if you wanna watch the show spoiler free, definitely avoid this fic. I was imagining this to be set around episode 6 or episode 7, before Crane's plan to use the ice cream factory is taken down by the Titans, but obviously Jason breaking away from Crane's control so early goes against the canon - so there's that. Also, if you wanna pair some music with this for something truly heartbreaking, I would highly recommend the classic Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, or the highly underrated Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3 (the lyrics are way more depressing than people realize, and I love it as a whump song. oomf). I also feel like the song Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny would go so well with this fic, but in like - the most devastating way. I haven't written something this cruel since I wrote Ghosting and I had so much fun doing it. You can't leave me alone with whump for too long, I turn into a monster. I need to go back to smut again quickly lmao.

...

Jason Todd was in love with you.

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. But it was true. You were someone who was so entirely amazing. You were beautiful - literally the hottest person Jason had ever met who wasn’t photoshopped or catered to be some unrealistic daydream. You were clever and smart and strong. You could kick anybody’s ass on any day of the week and still have enough energy left to tell them how much of an idiot they were and list all of the reasons why.

And you would definitely never love Jason back. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could ever have someone like you.

So he kept all of that stupid, idiotic love to himself. It was a secret that he had sworn to die with - and technically, he already had.

Jason tried not to linger on the very fucked up, seemingly impossible fact that he had come back from the dead. And now he was existing as some weird, fucked up zombie thing - resurrected from having his skull caved in by the Joker to do Jonathan Crane’s bidding. This definitely wasn’t what Jason would have wanted out of a renewed life - but hey: when an Arkham prisoner gives you rotten lemons.

When Jason wasn’t beating down drug dealers, stealing money, or strapping bombs to people - when he was trying his hardest not to focus on the fact that he had died and he was now living some strange half-life, reliant on Crane’s drugs, he was thinking about you. He thought about you a lot.

He hadn’t come into contact with you since his strange foray back into the land of the living. That was probably for the best. He knew that you had freshly come back to Gotham, upon Dick’s request. Nightwing had called for backup from all the ex-Titans to help end Red Hood’s reign of terror. Jason wanted to stay as far away from you as possible.

Genuinely, he didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Crane was planning. He wished you had stayed out of Gotham, but he knew that you were too loyal, too good not to come to the aid of the Titans when they needed you. He couldn’t reveal himself to you just for a taste of nostalgia - one last argument before you sold him down the river for good. But fuck - he thought about you a lot.

When the two of you had first met, you were the last person he ever thought that he would surrender that stupid, soft label of love to. Even months into first knowing you - he would have said that he hated you. He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth.

Your relationship used to be the worst kind of dance.

Every single time that Jason opened his mouth, you said something to contradict him. To a point, he believed that you didn’t even fully stand behind the things you said - you just enjoyed arguing against him. That you did it for sport. You used every single last bit of your time and energy to get under his skin. From mocking him to calling him a fuckboy to prodding at his grammar, poking holes in his points by smugly correcting him. He always found you to be the most infuriating person in any room. But it seemed that the more frustrated he got with you, the more cool headed you remained.

He tried to mock you back, and you shrugged it off. Every time he became visibly annoyed in your presence - you giggled. He wanted to strangle you.

And it was one fated day that he realized the line between heat fueled by frustration and heat fueled by lust truly weren’t that different.

…

“Jason! I thought I smelled you coming down the hall!”

Jason groaned when he heard you make this comment.

He thought that for once, he could have some peace to train alone - but it appeared that he would have no such luck. You were already in the training room, holding a long bo-staff as you ran some drills. Apparently, you were eager to exercise your mouth too - already whipping off clever insults the minute that Jason entered the room.

When all he could muster was a glare in your direction, you let out a giggle. His blood boiled.

“Between that god awful Axe body wash and that alcohol based aftershave that you like to drown yourself in, you smell like a walking frat house.” You continued, blabbering on even though Jason had made no efforts to engage you. At least not yet. “Just throw in some Busch Light and weed, and I might be able to catch gonorrhea just from the stench.”

That was the nerve that hooked Jason into the conversation. First of all - he smelled fucking delightful. He always made hygiene one of his personal priorities. He was absolutely not one of those guys with crusty, sweaty balls. And second of all - he was not one of those STD spreading manwhores. He was clean in all senses. He always used a condom.

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jason quipped back.

He looked to you for some kind of reaction, some inkling that he had gotten under your skin even a fraction of the way that you did his. His movements were rough with annoyance as he began wrapping his knuckles with tape so he could have a few rounds with the heavy bag - mostly out of a need to pound out his frustration on something. He was getting too angered with your presence in the room and not wanting to snap and take it out on you. (He already had enough on his record with Bruce, and despite popular opinion - he was trying to improve.)

When you weren’t quick to respond, Jason continued.

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.”

Jason grinned, feeling like he had won this conversation with the essence of shock alone.

But no. As always, you remained cool. You grinned right back at him, stepping toward him, crowding into his personal space as you said your next words in a low, smooth voice.

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.”

Jason’s face fell flat.

You were so strikingly confident in your words that it made his stomach twist. Facing him down, speaking such filthy words without flinching - embarrassment and heat collided inside of him. Even more so with what you did next.

You put a hand out in front of your crotch, mimicking the motions of jacking off while you mocked him in a broken voice.

“Oh, oh fuck Y/N! Come on! Take my sloppy, frat house cock!”

You then mocked a whiny series of moans that must have been Jason’s fake orgasm - and while Jason’s insides bubbled with a confusing heat, you quickly dissolved off into laughter.

“Shut up.” Jason snapped, forcing his eyes down to focus on the process of taping himself up - praying that you wouldn’t see the heat that had spread across his cheeks. “You’re the fucking worst.”

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you.

He was eternally thankful when you went back to your own training in silence, only taking occasional glances up in his direction.

…

After that point, Jason had to admit to himself that he was attracted to you, at the very least. He could no longer deny that you were insanely attractive; you were a very, very hot person. And somehow, even past your annoying habits, he was being drawn into the orbit of your gorgeous looks and your wonderfully cocky, filthy mouth.

But he still hated you. He definitely still hated you.

He hated it even more when you became right - and you did become the object of some of his more heated fantasies. He became downright annoyed at the times he had his hand around his cock and imagined himself hate fucking you - imagined forcing every cocky retort out of your mouth, imagining you breathless and needy beneath him, begging for more with every hard push of his hips.

He hated how everything changed after Doctor Light.

Jason wasn’t thinking about your stupid beautiful cocky mouth after that. His mind was full of glass and he was being shredded from the inside out. He came home broken. After everything that happened with Deathstroke and Doctor Light - he was some fragile bird; some chewed up, used, pitiful thing. He didn’t have the energy to fight you anymore, not even for sport.

So after he was rescued, still floating in numbness, he didn’t know what to do when you burst into his room unannounced. You practically shoved the door off its hinges, and stormed across the room toward him - tears hot in your eyes. You pounded curled fists against his chest, screaming at the top of your lungs. Half of your words were static in his ears, but the tone of your voice pierced through his heart like an arrow. You called him stupid, asking where in his empty head he had gotten the idea to go off by himself.

Jason didn’t have it in him to fight you. So he broke down.

He felt like the world’s biggest idiot for crying in front of you. But his throat was tight and he choked on the tears - he was too tired. He just couldn’t hold them back. He screamed back, and asked you to lay off. To get off his fucking back.

You looked shocked. Like you had swallowed a piece of glass.

You surprised him when you uncurled your fists and wrapped the most tender, gentle hands around his back, and for the first time since he had known you - you embraced him in a hug. He was weak and he needed it more than he was willing to admit, so he let you. He sobbed against your neck, his own cries too loud that he missed the timid sound of your apology.

That wasn’t the only time you surprised him that week.

He knew it was because he was some broken little bird, but you started taking care of him. You brought him plates of food without being asked, and when he attempted to shove them away - you refused. You told him to eat before you had to ‘shove it down his fucking throat’.

You didn’t mock him. You didn’t correct him. And you surprised him even more when you turned the sharpness of your tongue on the others when they tried attacking Jason. They accused him of planting booze in Hank’s room or drawing crosses on Rachel’s mirror to fuck with her, among other things. And you popped veins in your neck going on a winding rant about how stupid and baseless their accusations were.

Jason wasn’t sure if you knew it, but you jumping to his defense wrapped him in a blanket of protection that he had never before felt. It was so entirely strange, but welcomed coming from you. Especially because he knew that it was genuine. He knew that you didn’t have any ulterior motives for doing this - for some reason, you just wanted to help him.

When you extended an invitation toward him to come with you as the group dispersed, torn apart by Dick’s nasty, festering secret - Jason felt welcomed by you. He knew that the dynamic between the two of you was changing at a breakneck speed, and he had to embrace it. He found himself eager to follow the weird, newly developing kinship that he had with you rather than wanting to stay in the empty coldness of the Tower with a brooding Dick.

From there, it was really difficult for Jason to pin down the exact moment that his feelings transitioned toward you from casual lust to something more. He couldn’t tell exactly when it turned into that panic-inducing, ‘oh my god, I’m fucked’ feeling of being in love. After leaving San Francisco, during the entirety of the time that the two of you were in Gotham together, your relationship remained completely platonic.

It was a few short weeks spent kicking ass as the best vigilante duo the city had ever seen, but there wasn’t a single moment Jason could point to where the two of you lit up with that romantic spark. It wasn’t some romcom bullshit come to life. It was just the two of you being friendly for once. The two of you helping each other survive.

Back then - Jason wanted you, badly. Even if he didn’t know just how badly, he wasn’t going to fuck up the whole dynamic just to get laid. He felt safe with you. He kicked ass with you. He was good with you. And during that short time - he was happy. So he wasn’t going to do anything to risk that happiness. Happiness was too rare for him. So why the hell would he try putting the moves on you, scare you away, and fuck it all up?

…

A little slice of that happiness came in the form of Hal’s Diner. It was a place in downtown Gotham, open twenty four hours, and you and Jason had gotten into the habit of stopping there after your patrols.

The two of you would kick some ass - break the legs of some drug dealers, make sure that women got home safe if they were walking late at night, keep the streets a little safer. And then you would change out of your patrol outfits and head to the diner, just as the sun was rising over the scummy streets of Gotham. You would get breakfast and Jason would get dinner. He would steal one of your eggs and you would take half his burger, and you would always comment about him putting way too much ketchup on his plate.

It was harmony.

“You know, every time I see you make a grown man cry, it brings me such intense joy.” Jason grinned as he said this, reminiscing about a beautiful moment from earlier in the night.

He spoke about it in the same manner that someone might reminisce about seeing a relative or a cute puppy. But this was natural for the two of you - since you had taken up vigilantism as a duo, violence was a sweet art for the two of you.

“Well, if he would have left that girl alone the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have broken his arm.” You shrugged, speaking very casually about it yourself.

You then picked a piece of bacon up off your plate and took a bite, grinning at Jason fondly. You did appreciate it when he complimented your skills.

Jason chuckled.

“You know, it is nice to see you using your powers for good instead of evil.” He commented.

“My powers?” You parroted back, your mouth half busy with chewing, your words slightly muffled.

You didn’t have any metahuman powers, so this comment did leave you slightly confused.

“Yeah.” He nodded, entirely confident in the statement he had to follow. “Your endless amount of energy to harass people and be endlessly annoying. The powers you used to spend all your time using on me.”

“You used to deserve it.” You were quick with your tongue as usual, not missing a beat with this statement.

Jason’s only rebuttal was to pick up a french fry - one not doused in ketchup - and throw it at your head. You flinched slightly when it bounced off your forehead - but when it landed in your lap, you easily picked it up and put it in your mouth, not thinking twice about doing so as you tossed Jason a wicked grin.

That. That must have been the moment.

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy.

That’s why it hurt so much more when your phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. When you told him that it was the Titans - Gar in trouble. That’s why it hurt so fucking much when you left.

Jason knew, in hindsight, that he should have gone with you. But he flailed like a rabbit caught in a snare, and rather than just agreeing with you, he felt the trap tightening around him, and he opted to chew off his own foot rather than simply letting you help him free.

He stupidly argued that it was some test from Dick. That the Titans could deal with their own problems. Jason knew that deep down, he was still tender from everything that had happened - Dick dropping him, even by accident. The accusations, the secrets. The rejection. He felt like he was laying down a line - he was letting you make a choice.

Him or the Titans.

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you.

Deep down, Jason feared that if he did go with you - the Titans wouldn’t want him back. He feared another cutting rejection. They would simply bench him again, they wouldn’t even need him to help save Gar. They wouldn’t want him to help. He was useless, after all. He was careless and stupid. That was why he needed you to choose him. To stay.

That was what his mind was screaming out as you looked at him, disappointment flooding your eyes as you questioned him about Gar, about going back to the Titans.

Stay. He silently begged. Pick me.

And watching you snatch up your jacket in a huff and get up from the table, your food barely touched - his eyes boring into your back as you retreated - it was like having his heart carved out of his chest. And because he was so fucked up, he just sat there. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t chase you.

He let you go.

Having you suddenly disappear from his life was like missing a limb. Jason was constantly aching around your non-presence, constantly missing you. He felt torn up from the inside out, wondering if his frayed nerve endings would ever heal themselves. When he went to Donna’s funeral, he stared at you from across the tarmac - telling himself that if you even so much as glanced in his direction, he would cross that sickly one hundred foot black sea and talk to you. He would make the leap and apologize.

But you were fettered and stubborn and you kept your head straight. You knew it was the ultimate punishment not to acknowledge him. So the moment that the plane took off, Jason shoved on his helmet and sped off on his bike.

He easily became numb after that.

He went back to Bruce - to lay low and lick his wounds, or because it was the only place he knew, he wasn’t sure. He tried to be a Robin that wasn’t with you. It didn’t work. He felt more broken than ever. It was cheesy, pathetic bullshit - but he talked about you in therapy. Leslie encouraged him to reach out to you, but every time Jason’s fingers hovered over your contact in his phone, his hands shook, and all he remembered was the look of pure scorn you had given him before you snatched up your things and left the diner that day.

He thought of you as he suited up to go after the Joker. He considered how easy it would be for the two of you to take down the stupid clown together - how flawlessly the two of you worked as a team.

Jason thought of you as he drew his last breath, soaked in blood and struggling past the world-ending pain. He wondered, in a haze, if you were warm in your bed in The Tower while he was pressed into the cold ground, taunted by the laughter that rung in his ears.

…

Jason didn’t know how hard you cried for him when you heard the news of his death.

You wouldn’t have dared to say that the hole in the middle of your chest was caused by love - caused by the heartbreak of a lover being stolen. But you certainly felt robbed when you heard that the Joker had killed him. You seethed and you heavily considered marching toward Gotham to seek revenge.

You knew that Dick was angry with Bruce for finally giving in to what the Joker wanted and killing him. For finally ending their sick, twisted game. But when you found out - you were glad that the clown was dead. You wrapped one of Jason’s stolen shirts around your pillow, and you slept a bit easier at night.

…

Jason knew that he should have left town.

Crane claimed that Red Hood was going to be the next Batman - that he was going to be something the Bat never could. That he was going to actually keep the streets safe. But so far, all Jason had done was steal, kill, terrorize, torture. Crane spoke of omelets and breaking eggs - pigs and bacon, and ‘marketing’ himself to the public. But truly, it never made any real sense to Jason.

Jason knew that now, he was the type of man lurking in the night whose arm you would have broken if he was lingering too closely to the vulnerable. And you would have been right for doing so.

Jason was tired. He felt lost - directionless. He was getting tired of Crane’s bullshit. He missed you. But he knew that he couldn’t just go running back to you. You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did.

When Crane called him in that night, wanting to discuss ‘the game plan’ - Jason was worn. His patience for all of it was already wearing thin, and what happened next - it truly caused him to snap.

Jason showed up in full gear, wearing the costume of an alias he no longer believed in; foolishly dressed up as someone he had truly begun to resent. He was holding his helmet in hand, his heavy boots clunking on the floor as he dodged around Crane’s egghead lackeys - a random group of people who were working to convert the anti-fear gas into a larger batch. He knew that they were aiming to get more and more people in the city hooked; if Jason hadn’t abandoned his morals in this new life, he might have cared more about the consequences.

Instead, he made a B-line for Crane, who was typing away at something on the computer.

“Jason, my boy!” Crane grinned at him, giving a false, performative grin over his shoulder. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?”

“What do you want?” Jason asked, his tone flat.

He was far too tired of Crane to engage in more word play or stupid riddles.

“Never one for pleasantries, are you?” Crane chuckled.

Jason didn’t offer him a reply - seemingly confirming his theory with this simple act.

Truthfully, he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very pleasant today. He hadn’t felt very pleasant any day since he had been so rudely pulled from the morgue and zombified to do someone else’s bidding against his will. Being an undead puppet didn’t really make a person all that pleasant.

Crane reached into the pocket of his oddly quaint grandpa sweater and pulled something out - a small glass vial, containing some clear liquid. It looked harmless - like water. But Jason knew Crane, and he knew that whatever it was must have been entirely dangerous if Crane was carrying around such a small dose of it.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, giving the vial a small shake, jostling the liquid inside to emphasize his point.

Jason hesitated before he shook his head in the negative. He hated to appear clueless and stupid around such an intelligent man, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong. He knew that being misinformed around Crane was dangerous. But being cocky and pretending to know more than Crane was even more dangerous.

“This is a very highly concentrated form of liquid Methadone.” Crane explained. “It’s a highly addictive substance. And I think it’s going to give the mass market version of your formula that little extra kick that it needs, ya know? Keep the people coming back for more!”

He let out a bright chuckle, as though he was talking about a cleaning product that was marketed on an infomercial or some kind of great recipe for soup. That was one of the things that scared Jason the most about Crane - his ability to talk about life changing, deadly things with such jarring enthusiasm. He truly thought of bringing people their worst nightmares and their most painful deaths as ‘beautiful work’.

“What about it?” Jason prodded quietly.

He knew that Crane hadn’t called him here just to brag about a new idea to add something to the formula. He needed Jason for something.

Jason just hoped that he wasn’t looking to use him as a guinea pig again. He would likely rather die again than go down the path of heavy drugs. One thing he had vowed - he wouldn’t end up like his mother.

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. “Due to its highly addictive qualities, Methadone is also a highly regulated substance. But because I am the wonderfully well-connected man that I am, I happen to know that there is a very large stash of it just sitting there, ripe for the taking, in this quaint little building uptown.”

Jason’s gut stirred with suspicion.

“Where uptown?” He asked.

“Well, it’s just-” Crane stuttered, and then sighed, deciding to get it out and over with. “The Wayne Memorial Cancer Research Facility.”

Jason glared at him.

“But see, it’s fine! Because I happen to know someone who knows their way around the Wayne Tech security systems very well. So Red Hood breaks in there, gets me my-”

“No.” Jason said flatly, before he turned and started to walk away. “Find somebody else. We’re done.”

Crane had threatened to replace him before. Crane had no-so-subtly threatened to kill him alongside being replaced. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Jason would be better off dead. Maybe Crane would find out that Jason was irreplaceable after all. Maybe Jason was a dirty, seedy criminal shaped by life for only one thing: ruining the lives of others. If Jason couldn’t do that, he wasn’t sure what he would do.

But he wasn’t going to fucking do this.

Killing was one thing. Stealing from drug dealers and mobsters was another. What he had done to Hank had crossed too many lines - but it didn’t even begin to approach the lines that this crossed.

Stealing from a facility that Thomas and Martha had set up when Bruce was just a child, shitting all over their legacy, using skills that Bruce had taught him in order to do it? That was too far. Jason couldn’t say that he had morals anymore, but he still had that voice of common decency in the back of his head yelling at him to stop it. Maybe it was your voice, correcting him at every turn the way you used to.

He should listen to that voice.

He should leave town.

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him.

The pure annoyance that the nickname caused was the only thing that stopped Jason. He considered turning around and shooting Crane just to shut him up.

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.”

Jason turned back around then.

“Nothing you say ever makes any fucking sense.” He barked out, ready to leave Crane with these as his last remarks before he left Gotham forever.

But then Crane tapped at a few things on his keyboard and pulled something up on the monitor - a dark, grainy video feed that had Jason squinting his eyes and walking closer to get a better look.

When Jason was able to truly take in the scene - his stomach dropped.

It was you.

You were sitting alone in some anonymous, concrete warehouse - probably in the industrial district of Gotham, if Jason had to guess. Crane didn’t like to keep his insurance policies too far away, he liked to play it close to the vest. You were tied to a chair, duct tape tight over your mouth, very much there against your will. You were looking straight ahead, with the camera angled down from the top corner of the room. Even through the grainy, black and white footage, Jason could see the wetness of tears streaking down your face.

You were terrified.

Jason’s helmet clattered to the floor, slipping from his grip as the shock overtook his system.

For the first time in weeks, fighting through the numbness of the drugs and the hazy shock of his new half-life - he was terrified too. Then he was angry. Rage bubbled up inside of him like a sharp, acidic bile.

“What the fuck have you done?” Jason growled out, the anger setting his jaw so tight that the words could barely escape between his teeth.

“I told you - every loyal dog gets a treat.” Crane said, a barely contained glee filtering through his voice as he peered over Jason’s shoulder at your weeping face on the screen.

He clapped a large hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason felt himself nearly choke on his own tongue - so swollen with anger that it barely fit in his mouth.

“So, go fetch, doggie.” Crane continued. “Go get me what I need. Otherwise, that sweet little treat of yours is gonna play dead.”

Crane leaned over and whispered those last words into Jason’s ear - and that was what truly caused him to snap.

In a flash, Jason grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder, whipped Crane around - there was a loud crack as Jason broke Crane’s arm. The egghead types who were working on the formula all paused; some of them gasped or hid behind things, but none of them were brave enough to intervene. Jason shoved Crane’s face into the monitor, cracking it out like a spider’s web but never fully obscuring the image of that dark, cold warehouse - the place where you were alone and terrified.

He twisted Crane’s broken arm, making a sound like glass grinding in on itself, and the man let out a howl.

“I think you forget how this works.” Jason barked at him, his voice so dark with rage that it almost sounded like he was wearing Red Hood’s voice modulator even though his helmet was on the floor at Crane’s feet. “When dogs get pissed off - they bite.”

He twisted the injury again, and Crane let out another bitter howl.

Jason demanded to know where you were, and Crane squeaked out an address. It was in the industrial district, so it checked out in Jason’s mind. It didn’t seem like a trap or a false answer to waste his time.

Jason shoved the pathetic, useless man to the ground, kicked him in the gut for good measure, and then leaned down to grab his helmet before shoving it on. He would need it in case Crane had anybody stationed there, guarding you.

Crane shouted something at him as he walked away, but Jason was barely paying attention - now very singular minded on his mission toward you.

“You have to learn to play by the rules, Red!” Crane choked out. “You won’t like how this ends! I made you! I fucking made you!”

…

Jason was surprised to find the building empty. No guards, seemingly no bombs, no gas canisters. At first, he thought it really was a trick, a misdirect to waste his time. But when he had just about given up hope of finding you, searching one of the back most rooms that used to serve as overflow storage for Ace Chemicals - he found you. Concrete and anonymous, some of the beams having eroded away in places from improper chemical storage.

When you saw him stalking toward you - his gun drawn, heavy boots thudding against the floor, modulator puffing out heavy, mechanical breaths - you let out a terrified whimper past the duct tape and more tears flowed freely down your face.

Jason felt a twinge of guilt. Of course. You had no clue it was him.

Perhaps he could get away with the mercy of never revealing himself to you. He could keep his mask on, release you, drop you back off with the Titans and then leave town. But eventually, Dick would tell you who he was.

At the very least, he could give you the comfort of seeing a familiar face after the hell you had been through. You were wearing a sweatshirt and simple cotton pants, and running shoes - it looked like you had been plucked off the street during a jogging session. He could only imagine how much Crane’s lackeys had scared you.

Once he was confident that the area was secure, he holstered his gun and then reached up, removing the face mask from his helmet and tossing it aside.

“Hey, hey, it’s me.” He told you - attempting to be gentle and soothing in his voice.

He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be scared as he reached to his belt for a knife - only with the intention to cut the ropes around your torso, wrists, and ankles.

He watched your expression as you flashed through a range of emotions - deep confusion, a bit of relief, sadness, and then strangely - burning anger. You glared at him with the most intense rage he had ever seen from you - more intense even than the day you had stormed into his room and called him stupid and suicidal for going after Doctor Light without backup.

Jason was slightly afraid of the lecture that would come next, but nonetheless, he knelt beside you and began cutting you free.

The minute that one of your hands was free, you reached up and ripped the duct tape off your mouth. You took only a fraction of a second to wince in pain from the tender skin of your lips being disturbed before you began verbally tearing into him.

“Jason Todd!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, so loudly that Jason was sure some of the edges of the corroded concrete pebbled off and fell down just from this. “Jason fucking Todd! I should have known you had something to do with this!”

“Wh-?”

Before Jason could question your odd choice of words or even recognize it as an accusation, you raised your other freshly free hand and slapped him squarely across the cheek - it was a hard, skull-shaking clatter. It had Jason dizzy, falling back onto his ass and dropping the knife before he could finish cutting the ropes around your legs.

“Fucking ow!” Jason griped, reaching up to grab his now very red cheek.

“You are such an asshole! Of all the completely idiotic, stupid things you have ever done-”

“I didn’t fucking kidnap you! Okay? I didn’t do shit!” Jason quickly argued back, finally now realizing that you thought he had put you here in the first place. “I’m here to rescue you!” He said each of these words slowly, looking you in the eyes, hoping that his point would get across more firmly this way.

There was a tense moment as you stared back at him with your jaw locked. It was likely that if your feet hadn’t still been tied, you would have run away - or kicked him. Jason was thankful that you couldn’t do either at the moment.

“Why?” You asked, finally breaking the tension.

“What?” Jason gaped.

This was the last thing he had been expecting.

He was saving you - why were you questioning him?

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?”

You said the last part with intense disdain, tears dancing in your eyes.

So you did know what a monster he was.

He was surprised that you hadn’t hit him harder.

Jason heaved a sigh. He reached over and picked up the knife, very slowly, very tentatively resuming cutting the ropes on your legs to free you.

“I’m just freeing you so that you can be free. That’s it.” He said quietly, defeat lacing through every inch of his voice. “You don’t deserve this.”

He cut the last rope and folded the knife, sticking it back in his belt. He stood up then and caught a glimpse of your face - you were wearing the most complex expression he had ever seen. Perhaps confusion, perhaps anger. Maybe somewhere deep in your eyes - hurt.

He turned and moved to leave, hoping you would simply follow him out of the confusing maze of the building and he wouldn’t have to drag you out kicking and screaming.

“That’s not an answer.” You told him, your tone sharp and certain - the same tone you always used to correct him.

Jason whipped back around then, heaving a sigh as he looked at you - standing in the middle of the room now, arms folded over your chest, glaring at him on the spot. Cocky and so sure about yourself. Too damn certain and immobile in your points. Infuriating.

“Why the fuck do you have to make everything so damn complicated?” Jason shot back, annoyance and dread tight in every inch of him. “Why do you have to interrogate me about every damn thing that I do?”

“Because you make stupid ass decisions when I don’t.” You easily fired back. “Now tell me: why are you doing this?”

“Because I wanted to.” Jason huffed.

“Why?” You prodded again.

He let out another hot huff, and you didn’t let it go.

“Come on Jason!” You shouted, increasing in volume as you became more frustrated with his lack of an answer. “You didn’t just develop a conscience all of a sudden! Why did you feel the need to suddenly drop everything and come to my rescue? What makes me different than Hank? What makes me different than-?”

It was the annoyance grinding on him. It was a combination of your nagging voice, the lack of drugs in his system for the first time in weeks. The rawness of the world ragging on his last good nerve. The sound of your voice putting him in line - exactly where he was supposed to be. The way you reminded him of the truth now more than ever.

“Because I’m in love with you!” Jason shouted.

It was almost… angry. It was a declaration that hit you like a whip - more like an insult than something warm and kind. It wasn’t made of sweetness, like some moment from a film with a gentle piano riff wrapped around it. It was real - made of the haunting kind of passion that kept Jason awake at night.

Your eyes widened. Jason’s breathing stilled as he waited for you to react - to say something.

“Oh.” Your voice cracked around this syllable, and your eyes danced with more tears.

Jason felt his own heart crack apart inside of his chest, more terror flooding him.

He had died with the secret because he had never wanted to live up to the embarrassing vulnerability of confessing it. In the deepest part of his mind, he had lived this horror a thousand times. Him finally creeping out onto the edge of oblivion - speaking those words. Confessing. And then you stabbing him in the heart, rejecting him.

The reality of it ripped through him so much harder than it ever had in his nightmares.

Any last tiny piece of his soul that had survived being murdered by the Joker had just been shattered by you.

“Yeah. Fucking oh.” Jason echoed back, his own tears clutching at his throat.

Seeing him with that naked vulnerability dancing behind his eyes - it reminded you of the same person who came back from being kidnapped by Doctor Light. It reminded you of the real Jason you had gotten to know.

In that moment, it all came crashing toward you. You gasped harshly as you could barely breathe around it.

That hole in your chest had been shaped like a lover - it had been shaped like him. Filled with the pain of letting him get hurt, leaving him alone in Gotham to be murdered by the Joker. Filled with the doubt and confusion of never knowing what could have been between the two of you if you had chased those flirtations a little bit farther.

And now, he was standing right here in front of you, somehow perfectly alive and well - and there was only one possible thing you could do.

“Jason.” You gasped out his name, unable to fathom more words.

Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed both sides of his face, one of them still singed with a burning ache where you had slapped him so hard - and you pulled him into a kiss, hard.

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. Jason’s hands rushed to embrace you, wrapping around your back and grabbing a needy, possessive handful of your ass while you kept your grip tight on his face, keeping his face forcefully close to your own as you devoured his mouth.

You felt some of his tears escape - such a rush of emotions making him raw and unable to hold them back, and you moaned pitifully into his mouth as he wetness slipped underneath your palms. Whatever it was - his pain, his pleasure; you would take it. He was all yours now.

…

Far off, on the other side of Gotham, Crane chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He had pulled up the camera feed on a separate tablet, seeing as Jason had used his head to crack the monitor. With his broken arm bound in a temporary sling, he used his one good hand to pull something out of a drawer - a remote with a single button.

“For these violent delights have violent ends,” He recited to himself, still grinning widely as he looked at the two lovers in the grainy, black and white footage. “And in their triumph, die like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume. Even the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, if the taste confounds the appetite.” Crane poised his finger on the button. “Therefore, love moderately.”

He pressed down, and dissolved into more epic laughter as he watched what came next.

…

You were only human, and you could only kiss Jason for a few minutes before your brain demanded oxygen. As much as you hated to pull away from the sweet, bruising sting of his lips, you forced yourself back and immediately took in a sharp breath that turned into a rolling pant - Jason let out a needy whine in protest.

With his arms holding you so securely and the dizzying heat now flowing through you - you almost didn’t catch it. But it was there, in the background, something steadily present that wasn’t there before.

Beeping. A small, electronic beeping.

“Do you hear that?” You asked Jason, squinting your eyes with confusion and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise.

He did hear it.

“Fuck.” Jason mumbled.

Panic flooded him. The whole thing had been a trap.

He pulled away from you hesitantly and grabbed his mask up off the ground, snapping it back on.

“We have to go. Now.” He told you, his voice now sharp and robotic through the voice filter as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away - you became limp to his direction for once and simply followed, fear tight in your gut once again.

Jason didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but he knew it could be anything from a large bomb, meant to tear you to shreds, to a large dose of fear gas waiting to be deployed. And he didn’t have an antidote at the moment. He needed to get you out of the building and transport you to safety.

When the two of you came to a door - one of the many that Jason had passed through on his way in - it snapped shut in Jason’s face. It was on some kind of mechanical locking system, that much was apparent. Jason rushed forward, trying to pry it open - but it was welded steel, and it wouldn’t budge.

Jason heard more slamming - more metal forcing itself shut on the same locking system.

“Jason?” You croaked, that unsure terror back in your voice again. Something so rare for you. You were looking to him for answers. You were looking to him to rescue you.

Overhead, the last bits of light were shut out - glimpses of the street lights outside - as thick metal shudders collapsed down over the windows. The room was sealing itself shut, becoming air tight.

“Stand back.” Jason told you, not waiting to see if you followed the instruction before he pulled out one of his guns and began shooting at the door’s heavy metal hinges. He knew it was futile and he feared that one of the bullets might ricochet off and hit you, but he didn’t have many options left.

Then he heard it. The gentle hissing of gas being released into the air.

Jason was naive to have hoped that it was Crane’s classic Fear Gas - that would have been a merciful walk in the park compared to what he had planned for you. Betraying Jonathan Crane meant that Jason had to be truly punished.

Jason turned to you, wrapping his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the air itself - but it was too late. You began coughing and struggling to breathe, and Jason looked on with confusion as his chest twisted with guilt.

With his helmet on, he felt nothing. For the first few moments, he didn’t even understand what was going on as you gasped for air, struggling to form a word as you choked on each breath. Jason had no clue what the substance was or how he could fix it, looking on in horror as thick fog clouded around your ankles - your eyes bulging out of your head as you struggled for oxygen.

“Y/N?” Jason gasped, holding you by both shoulders as you became weaker and leaned on him. “Y/N?”

You couldn’t answer him.

You continued to wheeze, your breath hitching against your throat harshly. As the fog reached up to touch your face, it left angry, blistering marks in your skin. Unlike Jason, you had no armor to protect yourself - and somehow, Crane had turned the air itself acidic. Your eyes became wrecked with bloody red streaks and your face swelled as you continued to choke.

Jason’s insides screamed, but he felt too still.

As more of the fog touched you, some of the marks on your neck and your cheek blistered more and opened up, bleeding out pinkish bubbling puss as Jason continued to hold you - he didn’t know what else to do.

All he could do was hold you.

A harsh foam seeped out of your mouth as you choked on your last half-breath, and Jason felt a stinging pain consuming him - he wasn’t sure if it was the acidic fog finally breaching through his clothing, or the biting pain of having you limp in his arms - dead, as he huddled there on the floor.

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.”

Jason simply wept. And he held you.

As he looked at the camera feed, Crane smiled.

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.”

...

A/N: SOOOO obviously this ending leaves us with a lot of questions - did Jason survive? I think this can be interpreted one of two ways: one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next.

Also, if you didn't catch it (or, if you're not a Saw person) - this situation was heavily inspired by the final plot twist trap in Saw X. I love the acidic fog, and I feel like Crane could be a trap guy. The Titans version of Crane could be good friends with John, imo.

Also, if you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #titans fanfiction #dc titans #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction

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gaycragula · 27 days

Note

Hello there

Please could i request a child male reader (around 9-12, maybe younger idk you can choose) x 141. Platonic obv. Reader is being held hostage for reasons and they have to go on a rescue mission. When reader is saved he’s scared of them all except ghost who he just clings onto LMAO

cheers mate 🙏

Lost and Found

Pairing: 141 x Child Male Reader (Platonic!!!!) Warning(s): Heavy implication of parent death, politician family, child reader, locked in a basement, he gets fed i promise, i have no idea how the military works, angst? Word Count: 2069 Masterlist

The walls were an ugly, cracks running along them, and you’re sure there was mold growing in one of the corners. The only light in the room was a small lightbulb in the center of the room that was rarely left on. The only door leading out of the room was locked from the outside. You’re not sure you exactly wanted to leave the room. Not with the heavy thumps of feet that stomped through the first floor of the home.

It was a nice summer day when it happened. You’d just finished a nice dinner with your parents when the sirens began to blare. The sound cut your ears and you covered your ears, trying to block out the noise. You were whisked out of your chair by your dad before you could get up yourself.

Hushed words were shared between your parents as they rushed through the home to the basement. Your father’s grip was tight on you as he toted you down the stairs, your mother right on his heels.

Dad set you down in a corner, trying to keep you out of direct sight of the stairs. He pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, your mother doing the same.

“Be good and stay here,” your mom whispers, giving you a pained smile. Her lip quivered as she pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Mom and Dad love you. We always will.”

. Then, they left you, footsteps receding back up the stairs into the home. You heard the door shut and a silent darkness covered you. The silence only lasted for a moment.

Something crashed upstairs and loud bangs made you cover your ears again. You curled further into the corner, trying to make yourself as small as possible. More crashing and something heavy hitting the ground sounded before it fell silent again. It was over… right?

The basement door slammed open and you gave a full body flinch. A flurry of steps rocketed down the stairs. Way too many to be just your parents.

Five or six men came into your sightline. Each of them looked like they were armed to the teeth and it sent a jolt of fear through you. These men just ran through your house. Where your parents were. Where were your parents?

They scoured the basement, flashlights leading their guns as they searched. For what? You weren’t quite sure but you hoped they would just look over you. The fear surging through your body was almost unbearable. It was hard to breathe, each breath fighting to force its way out silently. You tried to stay hidden for as long as possible but their flashlights soon exposed you.

They said something you couldn’t understand before moving on and returning upstairs when they finished. You heard the faint click of the lock to the basement and you were left in the basement by yourself again. You tried to fight the tears that began falling down your cheeks as you curled in on yourself. It wasn’t a very long fight and your face soon became wet with your tears. It hit you then that you’d probably never see your parents again.

It had been a week since it had happened. The men would leave food for you at the top of the stairs. You spent the majority of your days sitting under the light in the room, playing whatever you could find. Trying to distract your mind. You were suddenly happy your parents kept a chunk of toys down in the basement for storage.

Totes of toy cars that you pretended to race with, some toy dinosaurs you’d gotten years ago, left forgotten in the basement until now. There were planks of wood you’d dragged over that you drew on with some chalk your parents kept down there. The chalk worked well on the walls as well.

Drawings littered the small walls of the basement. Cars and dinosaurs littered the floor. Your house.. Your home, your family. Where did it all go?

You’ve tried to talk to the men on multiple occasions but they only either looked at you with disdain or spoke in a language you couldn’t understand.

On the eighth day of the occupation, you heard those loud bangs and the shouts of men again. You started crying again, you didn’t even have a chance to try to stop it as you scrambled back into a corner in the room again, hopefully out of sight. Out of mind.

It felt like ages before the house fell silent again. You heard the doorknob wiggle, muffled voices coming from the otherside. Light filtered into the basement as the door creaked open. “After you, Sergeant,” a gruff voice huffs, a hint of teasing to the tone.

A short laugh followed the words before steps were coming down the stairs again, flashlights dancing over the walls as they descended. “Ohhhh hell, look at this, LT,” a second voice whispers, a light lingering on the drawings on the wall. Silence fell again as the sound of more boots started down the stairs, flashlights whipping around the room before one fell on your form.

—-----------------------

Clearing the home was easy. The bastards inside weren’t expecting an attack for a while. A home far outside any city line would surely work as a temporary base, right?

They thought so at least. So when the Scotsman barged through the door followed by six others, the occupants weren’t prepared. The firefight was short. The men inside scrambling to get to their weapons as fast as possible.

It was Roach who’d noticed the door to the basement, calling over the rest of the team. “What d’ya thinks down there?” Soap chuckles as Ghost takes a hand at picking the lock. “More guys? Prisoners they been keepin’?”

“If I had to take a guess, probably prisoners. Family who lived here was big in the political field here. Probably kept them as hostages for ransom,” Price says, gesturing for two of the guys to stand guard at the front and back doors.

The door clicked open and slowly swung open with a nasty creak. “After you, Sergeant,” Ghost huffs, nudging the Scotsman forward. Soap let out a short laugh before starting into the dimly lit basement. Ghost close behind him. Soap’s flashlight scanned the floors and walls. He noticed dinosaurs and cars littering the floor around the bottom of the stairs. He initially thought nothing of it. They knew a young kid lived here.

He was almost to the bottom as his light scanned over a big drawing of a home and a family of three drawn in chalk.

He felt his heart drop at the image. Soap was no master in chalk or anything, but the drawing looked pretty new. ��Ohhh hell, look at this LT,” he says, nudging the other. Ghost went rigid for a second before gesturing back up the stairs for the other three to come down quickly.

Flashlights scoured the basement, Soap wandering towards the darkest part of the basement. His light danced over the stone floor before the body of a little boy was illuminated.

“Over here,” Soap calls out, almost missing the way the kid jerked in response to his words. Soap handed Price his gun before crouching down next to the boy. Your eyes were locked onto him, tear stains evident on your cheeks and fear clouding your eyes. “We’re here to help ya,” Soap says, trying to offer his hand to you.

“Back off the kid, Soap,” Ghost mutters. “He’s scared shitless.”

Soap let out a quiet, barely audible sigh as he stood back up and stepped back to join the rest of his team.

Your eyes shot from man to man. Your breath was heavy in your chest and you could hear yourself wheezing because of it. “Where are my parents?” You almost sobbed. Your voice was hoarse, throat tight as you waited for an answer.

The men felt their hearts drop at the pure pain in your voice. This kid, no older than 11 or 12 had his life turned upside down in a matter of fifteen minutes just a week ago.

It was Ghost who made the first, well technically second, advance towards you, much to the surprise of the rest of the team. Just as surprising was the way you sat up to be face to face with him as he crouched down.

He pulled a small picture out of pocket and handed it to you. It was a picture of your parents and yourself that you’d never seen before. “I don’t know where your parents are, but I do know that if you remain here, you’ll never find them,” Ghost spoke lowly. Just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded in understanding, shoving the picture in your pocket as Ghost stood up. He went to turn back to the team but paused when your hand grabbed his. You avoided his gaze when he looked back at you but didn’t pull his hand away. Instead, he picked you up and maneuvered you onto his back.

“Thank you,” you mumble, laying your head down on his back.

Ghost turned towards his team who were all gawking at the scene before them. “Get goin’ and quit starin’ at me like that,” he huffs, nodding towards the stairs before turning to speak to Roach, Gaz, and Soap. “Get the kid some clothes and we’re gettin’ out of here.”

“Aye, L.T,” Soap almost stutters, pushing Roach and Gaz towards the stairs. Price chuckled to himself before heading up the stairs after the three, rounding up the other two that he’d stationed up there.

“What’s your name?” Ghost hears you ask quietly.

“They call me Ghost,” the man answers as he heads up the stairs. He felt you nod against his back and you fell silent for a moment. “What’s your name?”

You tell him your name, which he already knew but he wasn’t going to tell you that. That started a short and quiet conversation between the two of you. You asked how long he’d been in the military, where he was from, what his family was like and Ghost answered you and asked you the same questions in return.

It was a stark contrast to what the 141 was used to. Ghost was generally quiet on these kinds of missions. “It’s gotta be the kid,” Gaz whispers to Soap who nods in agreement.

“Yeah but what about this kid is different from others we’ve found?” Soap whispers back, rubbing his jaw as he watched you and Ghost interact. Gaz shrugged in response before Roach chimed in.

“Maybe he reminds him of a family member? Younger brother or nephew?” Roach suggests and it was like a lightbulb went off in the other two’s heads.

“That’s gotta be it,” Soap nods. “Does anyone know anythin’ ‘bout his family?”

Gaz and Roach shake their heads and Soap sighs. He opened his mouth to say something else, stopping when he saw Ghost shoot a look over his shoulder at him.

“Quit chattin’. Be on guard. We’re still in hostile territory,” Price mutters, ignoring the noise of complaint the three made before begrudgingly doing what they were told.

It was your first time on an aircraft. You were glued to Ghost’s side, eyes locked on the floor in front of you. Soap had tried to get your attention a couple times to no avail. If you did make eye contact with him, you were quick to look away as quick as possible.

The others didn’t have much luck either. Roach had tried to speak to you while Ghost was carrying you and all you’d done was bury your face into the fabric of Ghost’s shirt.

Price had been the most outward about it, asking to actually carry you so give Ghost a break. That was the only time you’d spoken to anyone besides Ghost. “No,” was all that came from your mouth as you shook your head. Ghost had chuckled and told Price he was good to carry you the whole way.

Ghost had given you his hand to basically ‘play’ with. You braided his fingers, bending them and whatever else you could do to keep your mind calm. The rest of the team couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces at the sight.

Who would’ve guessed. The big bad Ghost had actually a big softie.

#kid reader #kid male reader #male reader #reader #call of duty #soap cod #ghost cod #roach cod #captain john price #gaz cod #extra unnamed characters #parent death #heavily implied #hostage situation #fluff #angst question mark #angst #yippee im working on requests that are like a year old

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skeletalgoats · 7 months

Note

What was originally supposed to be an easy going pretend interrogation took a quick turn.

Horangi was supposed to go through a procedure with you if you were ever going to be held hostage and he was supposed to evaluate how well you did.

And let's just say you did a great job.

Tied up as he was behind your chair, his finger entering your folds while you felt breathless.

How well you did was based on whether or not you could keep quiet.

Slipping in another finger before quickly fingering you at an inhuman pace while you bit your lower lip trying to not let a sound out

His deep voice lowering into yours as his hand landed on your neck and lifted your head up with his finger

"You like that, huh?"

SMUT WARNING UP AHEAD

●☆●

INTERROGATION - HORANGI X READER

(FEMALE READER)

(So I saw that you were the bubble anon lmao)

BUT YES EXACTLY BRO HORANGI BEING THE HOT MOTHERFUCKER HE IS WOULD TOTALLY BE SUCH A TEASE.

He would literally finger you at an ungodly pace while kissing your neck and just to mess with you, he would make his voice extra deep and raspy, whispering things in your ear like

"yeah...that's a good girl, staying all quiet for me, letting me play around with that beautiful, soaking wet pussy.."

The lewd and wet sounds of his thick fingers thrusting in and out of you faster than you could ever imagine someone doing so.

He was so good with his fingers, such fast, deep, strokes with the 2 fingers that are being brutally shoved inside of you on repeat, he had your eyes rolling to the back of your head multiple times.

But the moment you let out even the smallest whimper, he's gonna edge you and slip those fingers out of that soaking core, no matter how quiet you were being before.

He would start tapping on your clit, slapping it lightly, letting out an exaggerated sigh before coming infront of you, crouching.

"Now what did I tell you?....Gonna be a good girl and stay quiet for me...?Or are you gonna be a bad one and let everyone know how good I make you feel?~"

He taps your cheek, smirking under his mask while fully knowing that he's driving you insane with all that he's doing.

You whimper and cry silently, begging for Horangi to continue and how you would be good for him.You spread your legs and buck your hips up, desperate for any kind of friction from him.

Horangi chuckles lightly before untying you, picking you up and pulling you on his lap as he sits on the chair.

He spreads your legs apart, but doesn't do anything just yet.

He let's the cold air hit your pussy, watching you shudder on his lap while he leave hickeys all over your neck, and collarbone.

Then without warning, shoves his 2 fingers back inside your heat, stroking the inside of your wet pussy.

"Go on, cum for me."

And with that,you're sent over the edge, cumming the hardest you ever have,throwing your head back, over his shoulder.

You're panting, unable to think properly...but despite all that you remember the next words you heard;

"How about another round?...maybe even this time I'll give you my cock?~"

At that moment you could say that it was going to be one hell of a night...

#call of duty #cod mw2 #horangi x reader #horangi cod #horangi #horangi x you #horangi smut #cod smut #cod x reader #cod x you #retro's asks #fem reader #female reader

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cipheress-to-k-pop · 10 months

Text

Yin and Yang Pt. 3

Pairing: Ben Tennyson x Reader

Warnings: Torture

Word Count: 3.0k words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

A/N: If I'm being completely honest, I'm not feeling that satisfied with this oneshot but it's completely fine. Part 1 of Y&Y was a oneshot that I really put a lot of effort into writing but part 2 and 3 were kind of just self-indulgent strike of the moment passion fics which I shouldn't be finding guilty about. But anyway I still hope you guys enjoy it. Hopefully I will be writing a part 4 because I just love their dynamic so much in this series even though Ben is very OOC lmao.

You crouched down behind a stack of crates, plasma gun clutched tightly in your hand and ducked your head forward, only to be met with a wall directly in your line of vision.

Turning your neck, you made eye contact with the plumber across from you, hidden behind a pillar and held out your hand, asking him in sign if he was able to count the number of victims and criminals.

This mission was one that your squad had been working on for 4 months. A huge trafficking ring that you had managed to track onto their Megacruiser Spaceship.

Most of your squad had been caught up in the hull, fighting off soldiers and freeing the victims while you and another proctor made your way to the front of the ship.

You had already disabled the escape pods on the ship so if they wanted to escape they'd be heading for the docking bay to find a small ship to board.

Proctor Drax held 5 fingers up and then 8 and you sighed; 5 hostages and 8 captors. There was no way the two of you would be able to take all of them down while protecting the hostages.

You pressed down on your plumbers badge, signaling the rest of your squad that you'd require some backup.

You lost hope however, when they began to approach the ship. If you didn't do something to take them down now, there's no telling what they would do to the hostages.

Drax nodded at you and you ran out from behind the crates. Aiming the gun for the ships propulsion jets, you tried to damage them as much as you could to prevent them from attempting to take off.

You were able to damage 3 out of 4 ships before your opponents began charging for you. Your partner and you fought hard, keeping the fight away from the victims.

"Keep back! There are other agents coming, they'll help you!" You shouted, ushering them toward the door but you froze when one of them pulled out a weapon.

They were hostages. Why weren't their hands bound?"

"It's an ambush!" You cried, just in time for them to swing and land a hit against your skull. You gasped, feeling excruciating pain explode through your head, the taste of blood invading your mouth when you bit down on your tongue.

The world began leaning and you hit the ground, vision going black.

***

You grunted in pain as he grabbed your hair, punching you so hard you felt blood crawl up your throat. You panted in exhaustion. Your body was so weak, you could feel it going limp but every time your neck went slack, the painful grip on your hair would give you just enough stimulation to keep from going unconscious.

"Aw, looks like she's going to faint again. Can't have that." The man smirked before dunking your head into a barrel of cold water.

You gasped at the temperature shock, water invading your nostrils and throat until you were yanked out. You spluttered and coughed violently until your stomach squeezed painfully and you threw up.

Proctor Drax had gone unconscious, taking his fair share of beatings like you had. They kept you awake, on the edge between consciousness and exhaustion, thinking a woman would bend to their whims faster.

"I'm getting tired of asking. Tell us the codes now." He punctuated the sentence with another punch to the stomach and you gasped for air, yelping in pain when he grabbed your hair again to keep you from going unconscious.

They wanted to codes to enter a highly classified part of the plumber's database, the codes of which were only shared with Proctor's or higher for security reasons.

It was highly protected, any hacking attempts were met with layers and layers of firewall while a program tracked their address and they were meant with squads of plumbers. If you gave them the codes, it wouldn't alert anyone, leaving them to get the information they required with no one the wiser.

You couldn't give them what they wanted. You wouldn't. Which meant when they got sick of asking, you'd be killed. Your hands were bound, you were beaten black and blue and there was no possible way for you to escape. At this point, death was a better option than the painful misery they were putting you through.

Your eyes fluttered shut, pain ripping through every muscle in your body. Your mind drifted to Ben and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the thought of him finding out he lost you.

Sure, your parents would miss you and mourn the loss of their only daughter but you knew the utter despair and grief that would go through Ben when he found out you were captured and killed.

You had only ever seen him get angry once, when his grandfather was threatened and it was like he was a completely different person. Was that version of Ben what awaited the world? Would he go mad trying to find who did it?

Your bottom lip quivered. You missed him.

You gritted your teeth, groaning as another punch was landed, "The codes, bitch!"

"Over my dead body." You growled.

He smirked, "I was hoping you'd say that."

***

"Is she still not answering?" Gwen asked, trying to focus on the mana surrounding your jacket. She had been trying for days now but couldn't track you down. You were way too far from her range.

"No! And I'm really starting to get worried. She said she'd be home 3 days ago." Ben panicked, ringing up your cell again while trying to track your Plumber's badge with his Omnitrix simultaneously. But he was disappointed twice when the Omnitrix gave no results and your phone went straight to voicemail.

This wasn't like you. You were ordered and punctual. If you said you were going to be there at a certain time you'd always be there 5 minutes early. And if on the off chance during a blue moon, you managed to be late, Ben always received a text explaining why.

But they had been unable to contact you for days and it was stressing him out.

"You don't even know what the mission was about?" Kevin asked and Ben sighed in frustration.

"No, she said it was confidential and that I wasn't allowed to know anything. All I know was she was supposed to be back 3 days ago!" He was pacing back and forth, biting on his thumb in nervousness.

He didn't know what to do, this was the first time someone was too far out of Gwen's range. He knew absolutely nothing about the mission and he didn't even know who to contact.

He heard the sound of rings in the background and thought Gwen was trying to call her again when he heard someone pick up.

"Hey grandpa have you heard anything from (Y/N)? She was supposed to be home 3 days ago and we're not able to reach her." Gwen asked and Ben felt his stomach sink in slight disappointment. He thought you had been the one to pick up.

"Uh, kids you might want to sit down. You're not going to like this."

The three of them shared a glance and Ben felt his stomach fall farther.

"The Plumbers have an extremely fortified database that contains a lot of sensitive information. Information that's so sensitive it would mean chaos if anyone ever got their hands on. It's so classified that no one other than Proctors or higher are able to access it."

His brows furrowed. What the hell was he talking about?

"Thing is, this database is so fortified and protected that, as a failsafe, the plumber's created a decoy and decoy codes have been given to every proctor in case of a hostage situation. And, the thing is, (Y/N)'s code was activated 4 days ago."

He stood up so quickly that his knees hit the table with a loud smack, "(Y/N)'s been taken hostage?! We have to find her!"

"Not just her, kid. Another proctor has also been abducted along with her."

"Then we have to go after them! Who was it?! Who took her?!"

There was a deep sigh on the other side, "Ben, I'm sorry but I don't know and if I did I'm not at liberty to tell you."

"What do you mean?"

"The protocol is: if the decoy codes are ever activated, the agent is abandoned. The plumbers are not allowed to go after them."

His heart felt like it had stopped in his chest and his throat closed so painfully that he felt tears bubble in the corner of his eyes. He stared at the phone sitting on the counter for a few moments, trying to understand just what his grandfather told him and wondering if he had heard him wrong.

This couldn't be happening. It was supposed to be an easy mission. You had assured him of that before you left, squashing his worries with a few reassuring words and kisses. How could this be happening?

You were taken hostage for god knows how many days and now his Grandfather was saying that he would never see you again? And that he wasn't even allowed to try looking?

It felt like the world around him was crumbling to pieces, the ground beneath him shaking as tremors went through his body.

Finally, he choked out, "W-What?"

A small nagging voice began poking the back of his head, eventually making it's way to the forefront. Gwen's magic; the magic that flowed through every living being in the universe, couldn't track you.

What if you weren't out range? But you were--?

It felt like he had gotten punched in the stomach.

"I'm sorry, kid. (Y/N) knew what she was getting into. She's on her own."

***

The floor was in absolute chaos. The members of your squad were running back and forth like headless chickens that were caught on fire. Ever since you and Proctor Drax had been captured, they had been trying to track you.

A couple of magisters had attempted to follow when you were taken but they shot them down and then lost them in an asteroid belt. Since returning back to plumber base, they were going crazy trying to track you, process the criminals that they did manage to catch and try to find the families of the victims they had rescued.

Not to mention that they were down a couple magisters since they got injured during the fight.

It was hard though, the ships that were used to abduct you and Proctor Drax were the most common in the universe, which made them impossible to track. It would be even more difficult to track you if your captors dumped the ship at any rest stop and stole another.

Which was most likely what happened.

They were stretched thin as it was but then something worse happened.

Your decoy code was activated and they were told to give up on the search for the both of you. A lot of them protested, they didn't want to give up on the search for their commanding officer but they were shut down.

They had to give up and abandon you and Proctor Drax.

Then, something even worse happened.

Legendary Ben Tennyson, the wielder of the most powerful weapon in the entire universe, came storming into their office and grabbed the closest Magister by the collar.

Ben gritted his teeth, "Where is she?! Where is (Y/N)?!"

"We're not at liberty to divulge that information, Mister Tennyson." The magister stuttered, trying to squirm out of his grip. They had all heard the stories of what he was capable of and they did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

"You're going to tell me, or I'm going to beat it out of you."

"Ben, stop!" He was pulled back by his cousin, pink threads wrapping around his body and yanking him away from the magister. He struggled in her grip, reaching for the his wrist when his hands were pinned down.

"Gwen, let go!"

"Calm down! You can't threaten them into telling you where she is!" She yelled, pulling him back into an empty room so they could talk. She still didn't let up with the restraints, keeping him firm in her constraint.

"So, what? You want me to just give up on her?! Like hell!"

"No one's saying you have to give up! But this isn't the right way!"

He snarled, gritting his teeth and thrashing in her grip, feeling part alien even though he hadn't transformed yet. This emotion was new, he had never felt anything like this before.

Pain that was so intense, so overwhelming, so painful, that he couldn't do anything other than scream and get angry. Because he knew that if he broke down, he'd never be able to put himself back together again.

"Let go, Gwen. I have to find her." He said, calming down.

"I know you do. But it's been over a week since she was taken. Her code was activated 4 days ago and we haven't heard anything from her yet. What do you think these crooks are going to do with their hostage, who is a highly deputized agent of the plumbers after they got what they wanted? Let her go?

His lip quivered and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Ben wanted to cover his ears, not wanting to listen to the cold slap of reality that Gwen was determined to give him.

"I don't want to believe it either, but we might have to come to terms that (Y/N) is de--"

"NO! SHE'S NOT DEAD!" He screamed, finally letting the tears he was holding at bay go. Once the dam had been broken, he couldn't keep it all in anymore, grief rushing out of him like tsunami waves.

The restraints holding him let go and he was reduced to a sobbing pile on the floor, holding onto his cousin in a death grip as he wept and wailed into her shoulder. She cried too, hugging him close and running her fingers through his hair to calm him down.

"I can't lose her." He whispered in between gasps but Gwen didn't reply and instead rubbed circles on his back, coaxing him to let it all out.

***

Two hours later, Gwen sat on the floor of the Plumber's satellite, Ben sleeping soundly in her lap after crying himself to a point of exhaustion. She watched him carefully, using her powers to manifest positive emotions for him, hoping he wouldn't have any nightmares.

She was just about to wake him up so they could go home when alarms starting blaring and red lights began flashing. Ben, now startled awake, and her immediately ran to the other room.

"What happened? What's going on?" Gwen asked the Magister that had previously been threatened by Ben.

"As if this day couldn't get any worse! We have an unauthorized ship flying toward us." He groaned, typing in something before he pressed and held down on the intermission button.

"Unauthorized vehicle, you are approaching Plumber's Base 2. You are not authorized to land here. Turn back now or be arrested upon landing for trespassing on restricted grounds." He spoke, voice so commanding that it was a stark contrast from the pitiful whimpers he had let out when Ben had his collar.

There was a beat of static before they received the vehicles transmission, "Don't engage. This is Proctor Drax. Have a couple officers ready to process the arrested criminals."

He didn't have to say anything else, they were all marching out of the room and toward the docking bay, with Ben following close behind them

Time seemed to slow down to a stop as he watched the ship land and his heart beating was the only sound he could hear. There was a cruel voice telling him not to get his hopes up. The fall from that much higher would only hurt more.

He swallowed painfully, watching the hatch of the door finally open and then came Proctor Drax, looking severely injured but Ben couldn't let his gaze linger on him, eyes darting instead to the figure behind him.

He waited for the figure to come out of the shadows and was once again disappointed when a handcuffed criminal made his way out of the ship. And another one in handcuffs followed him. And another.

13 criminals. All there are accounted for stalked out of the ship and towards the barrage of plumbers that were there to receive them.

And then nothing.

Ben clenched his jaw shut. Trying hard to keep himself from shedding anymore tears. He'd do that when he was in the comfort of his bedroom. He turned to leave when another figure finally limped out of the shuttle.

You looked like you had been put through hell and back, sporting a black eye and split lip, paired with a stream of blood that ran down the side of your face and then over the handprints on your neck.

You limped down the stairway, grimacing it every step you took when you froze, red-rimmed eyes meeting his own teary green.

"Ben." You breathed, your body so broken and bruised that you couldn't tell whether you were moving toward him or if he was moving closer to you.

But then it was all okay because you were caught in his arms and finally smelling the comforting scent of his deodorant. You were in so much pain, you had constantly been in so much pain for so many days that now that you were finally safe and in his grasp, you allowed yourself to shed a couple tears, burying your face into his shirt.

"Missed you. So much." You whispered shakily. He was holding you too tight, you could feel numbing pain go through your broken ribs but even then you stayed in his embrace as you heard him sob softly. He needed this just as much as you did.

"I missed you too."

You were together. Everything was in balance. Everything was okay.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@haniscrying

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 4 months

Note

Just had a silly thot with Jason

Imagine post Arkham Knight and Gotham is relatively back to normal. Jason no longer keeps you hostage and listens to your request to give you some space. Your family and friends were none the wiser that you were gone for a few weeks (Jason was that good in impersonating you when texting them) but you did miss lots of work. You go back to work and oops I guess Jason didn’t attempt to make your job think that you were taking your vacation days (or maybe you didn’t even have any). Your boss asks you where you’ve been and why you missed work without letting anyone know and you have to admit that you were basically kidnapped.

It’s Gotham. People get kidnapped and/or held hostage all the time, so they should believe you. Well, ppl also like to use the “I got kidnapped” as an excuse for missing school/work all the time (“yeah I couldn’t come to class today cause the Riddle strapped a bomb to my neck and wouldn’t take it off until I solved his riddles…nothing I could do about that”) Somehow your boss doesn’t believe that you were kidnapped and maybe they’re really shitty too so you get fired.

The next time Jason visits you in an attempt to reconcile your relationship you’re super pissed off with him because he inadvertently got you fired from your job. Kidnapping you? You can…somewhat…understand that. But you draw the line at getting you fired!

You give him the cold shoulder for a long time and Jason’s just hovering around you looking like a dejected puppy dog, trying his best to make it up to you.

I love this, I once saw a hc where Gotham's insurance only covers damage from a limited number of crooks, so citizens have to pick which rogues they want to be covered by their insurance

I can see a shitty system where similar to needing a doctor's note to have a medical excuse from school/work, you need smth like an official statement from the cops to give to your workplace to prove you were kidnapped by a rogue. That or you need evidence proving you were kidnapped like a picture or smth of you in the news, or even a statement from the rogue themselves: Some of them are very businesslike and chill and will actually do that, similar to mobsters that would itemize their crimes for tax purposes back in the day. Sometimes Two-Face does it, Riddler does it bc he's very thorough, Black Mask does it often, and so does Mr. Freeze. And surprisingly Joker does it ("I'll fight Batman, but the IRS!? Noooo thank you...") but half the time he just kills hostages so he doesn't have to lmao.

Jason gets this news from Darling and immediately he dons the cowl, marches into their former place of work, and personally tells their boss that he kidnapped them. And in addition to rehiring them, he's gonna do a little investigation into how this boss doles out salaries to their employees. Darling deserves a raise after being unduly fired, and so do her coworkers for dealing with this manager's bullshit.

#.dc #.red hood #.arkhamverse #.arkham knight #.jason todd

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hyperfixatedfandomer · 1 year

Note

I have a little prompt for you if you want to do it :)) I’ve always wondered what could’ve happened if instead of being vaguely apathetic, Quaritch is very VERY happy to have his son again upon meeting spider for the first time.

Awww lmao that would be a silly scene indeed but y’know what? A bit of fluff is good for the soul, I’m in 💅😫

“Holy shit, Miles…” the entire group, both recoms and the Sullys watched in shock as Quaritch’s face slowly morphed into a disbelieving grin. It came even more as a shock when the man scooped the boy into his arms to take a good look at his face. He had his mother’s eyes, and it fit him quite well.

Spider himself was silent as his body went sort of limb. He should be pushing this monster away, cursing at him, screaming for help but…the positive attention caught him completely off guard, so all he could say was

“I-I said my name was Spider”

“Right, sorry kid, I just….WOW” the colonel was still giddy and most of the recoms relaxed, catching his reaction. “But look at you, six foot and all that muscle at just fitfeen years haha! You wasted no time did you”

What.

Was he being praised right now? As his friends were being held hostage? By his estranged father? Who hated the Na’vi but was also wearing the skin of one?

The sully kids didn’t seem to mind that though, as he could distinctly hear them trying to muffle their giggles and awws. Great, the situation has turned positively ridiculous.

#avatar #avatar 2 #avatar spider #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #spider socorro #miles quaritch #miles spider soccoro #recom quaritch #avatar quaritch #na’vi quaritch

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luci4theminorannoyance · 8 months

Note

hi pookie wookie mcshmookie bear 😈

can i request price with reader who was taken hostage by shepard and shadow co. and the 141 got sent a video of shepard just trying to be big and tough but at the end- shepard threatens the 141 and shoots reader lmao

-your resident soccer fan ⚽️

a/n: I- wha- I cried my eyeliner off while brainstorming for this one, btw this is like a Drabble and I took some Inspiration off of other fics like this one so- kudos to whoever wrote the things I took ideas from (comment so I can tag you if you have).

Price:

He had stayed up late at nights trying to figure out where they were keeping you, although told the team it wasn’t anything serious. He knew telling them he couldn’t find you would ruin them way worse then already.

One of said nights, price got sent a video from a number containing purely hashtags- he immediately called in the team and played the video.

it mostly contained Shepard, ranting and boasting in his usual fashion, bluffing about all he would do to torture and kill off 141.

he thought it was simply shepherd bluffing, he thought you were at least going to be safe and he could be able to find you and bring you back home-..

he was wrong.

as the video replayed of you getting shot after being dragged into frame as if you were cattle or something as worthless as a piece of dust; all of team four one held in sobs or collapse, agony and anger radiating off price like smoke.

the flash of the gun against your head, the look of fear in your eyes- it was too much for him to bare for long.

he stayed up every night. Living off caffeine, whiskey, and the desire for any form of Justice he could get. It was his fault he couldn’t find you in time, right?

he finally got his revenge a few months later, killing Shepard the same way Shepard had killed you; a bullet straight to the head.

prices body couldn’t really take any more after that-..

he did what he wanted to do, he killed the person who shot the love of his life. His body collapsing on the spot like a rag doll, finally at peace.

He finally got your Justice, at the cost of his own future.

#cod fic #cod mw2 #luci44_writing #captain price #john price #captain John price #price x you #price x gn reader #price cod #price x y/n #cod angst #cod fanfic

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 8 months

Note

actually I think the real answer is that becoming a speedster means losing your common sense. like you can’t have both at the same time. genetically impossible. that’s my two cents. I’m very tired anyway do you happen to have a source for that time jay spit his tooth at an alien because I’m a sucker for the old man losing his shit and i kind of want to see that ngl

Mhm, yeah I agree. I think there's only enough room in their heads for speed. The common sense gets tossed out the window the second you get powers.

Also, yeah Jay is a badass. Jay was being held hostage by a bunch of aliens so he antagonized them into hitting him until they knocked a tooth loose. Then, before they could perform a live vivisection on him, he did this:

Which... is he dead? Is he knocked out? Did Wally rewrite the timeline to undo this?

Maybe. Possibly. And yes, absolutely.

Anyway, Jay on a warpath with a gun is just 10/10. Man has no problem killing people in a war lmao

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ilovedazaiosamu · 1 year

Text

Why not me?

author’s note: hi☺️ i had a bad and horrible week and why not some dazai angst? also please forgive me if this fanfic isn’t satisfying enough for you.

characters : dazai, reader(you), another woman

genre: angst, hurt/no comfort, you died,|| by suicide, lmao

summary : Osamu Dazai, your husband, gets bored of you and decides to get into a relationship with another person, you find out. What happens next?

I recommend you to listen to Mitski while reading this, especially the song “why didn’t you stop me?” or “washing machine heart”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were waiting for Dazai to come home from work, he usually came home earlier than you but ever since last week, he started to come home late.

You then decided to make dinner for yourself and him while waiting. The door creeked open, and behind the door was Dazai. “Dazai!! where were you? why were you taking so long to get out of work?” you asked him in a curious tone. ‘Dammit, when can she shut the fuck up?’ Dazai thought to himself, wondering when can you stop trying to meddle into his problems, “Oh, something just came up at work. Now can you please get off of me? I want to change.” Dazai responded to you. You wondered why he was suddenly so distant from the last week, then you saw something you didn’t want to see.

‘A fucking hickey? on his fucking neck? is he cheating on me? Am I not good enough for him? Should I ask him about it?’ You thought to yourself. “Is there something wrong, Belladonna?” Dazai asked you, in a worried tone, you shook your head and brushed your thoughts away. “Did you have your dinner yet, Dazai?” “Oh yeah, I did, no need to make me dinner, I’m full” ‘Yeah full eating out someone else’s pussy’ you thought to yourself.

“Oh okay. I’ll go to bed now.” You responded to him. Walking to your shared bed, knowing that your husband doesn’t love you anymore, and that your nightmare came true. “Why not me?” You whispered to yourself, closing your eyes to go to sleep and wish for a great dream.

The next morning😦😦(im wishing i wont have a next morning)

You woke up, not feeling Dazai’s presence in your bed. Frowning, you got up to shower and went to the pharmacy, planning to buy medicine because it felt like you had a headache . As you were walking home, you saw Dazai, at a restaurant, sitting with another woman. You decided to let him be because, why would you interrupt him from being happy? You saw him smiling at the woman, holding her hand, wishing that it was you instead. You were about 35ft. away from your house, and near your house was an alleyway. “SOMEONE!! PLEASE HELP ME!” a voice screamed, you wondered who it was and being worried and curious, you ran to the alleyway to help the person who was screaming for help.

You saw a girl, who looked like she was only 14, holding another girl in her arms, which you assumed that it’s someone probably important for her, both being held hostage. “Hey, are you okay?” You asked running towards them in a worried tone. “Hey! Get away from the children or I’ll shoot.” The kidnapper said, threatening and holding unto the gun. Little did they know, a policeman is running to the commotion because of the little girl’s scream for help. You suddenly jumped in front of the gun, and out of luck, only your shoulder was shot at and not anywhere at your chest. “Run, please, I can handle it, and please, get some help.” You said to the little girl who was shocked. She ran into the policeman who was on his way to see what happened in the scene. “Sir! please! Help the woman there! She got shot!!” She cried at the policeman as he went and saw your body, on the floor, unconscious due to loss of too much blood. As for the kidnapper there, he tried to run but he couldn’t. He ended up getting arrested, and for the girl she went back to her family safely with her sister. Oh… but for you? You ended up in the hospital. Once you woke up, you got questioned if you had anyone close to you to visit you by the nurse. “Oh.. yes, I do, his name is Dazai Osamu, he is my husband. Now where is my phone? I’ll call him.” “Ma’am, I’m sorry but calls are not allowed in the hospital unless the staff is the one calling.” “What about you call him? I’m sure you won’t mind, right?” “Of course. I’ll give him a call that you’re injured and that you’re in the hospital, anything extra you want to say to him?” “No, thank you” You responded to the offer. The nurse went outside to call Dazai by using your phone. She then went back inside after 2-4 minutes and gave your phone back. “Please call for me if you have any complications with moving or if anything hurts. I’ll get the doctors, okay?” the nurse said. “Alright.” You responded.

Soon after Dazai ran to the hospital, leaving his mistress alone for the date.

“Belladonna! Are you okay? the nurse told me you got shot and lost alot of blood!! Oh please, tell me you are!” Dazai barged into your room, the nurse telling him to be quiet politely and left the two of you alone. “Belladonna? is there something wrong? Do you feel unwell?” “Of course I do, Dazai, you think seeing your own husband going out with other woman doesn’t make you sick?” Dazai’s eyes widened to your response, wondering how you found out. “Suprised? Oh don’t even think your that good at hiding things away from me. I know you better than I know myself. You are just like a part of me, Dazai. We’ve been together for years and you think you can still hide stuff away from me?” “Belladonna- I’m sorry, okay? Please forgive me, I really am. When I heard from the nurse that you got shot, it made me feel an uneasy feeling in my stomach too. I’m so sorry, belladonna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” “Am I not good enough for you, Osamu?” you said with teary eyes, not daring to look right at him. “Belladonna, you are, I am just such a selfish man and I thought, I didn’t deserve you because you were beyond the meaning of the word kindness. Please, my love, don’t leave me.” “I won’t leave you, but you deserve someone much more better than me, Osamu. I kind of need some space right now, honey, so please leave me alone.” “As you wish, my beloved.” Dazai said as he left a room, with a sad look on his face. He felt bad for you and decided to prepare some gifts for you once he will go back to visit you tomorrow.

The next day, he went into the hospital and then to your room, but when he was just near the door, he heard a shriek from your room. He went to your room and then saw the nurse shocked, and your body, unconscious, on the floor. He rushed to your body, feeling this nostalgic feeling that he felt with his dearest friend, Oda. “Belladonna! You must be joking! open your eyes!! please… don’t die on me..” he cried, checking your pulse and heartbeat. And he didn’t feel or hear anything. He tried again and again trying to hear your heartbeat, he tried finding the warmth of your body, but it wasn’t there. “What happened to her…?” He asked the nurse, and she said she doesn’t know because she also just went in to check up on you because she heard a sound from your room. “Well??? WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR GET SOME FUCKING HELP!” Dazai screamed at the nurse, his voice was cracking. The nurse rushed to get some help and once she did, he had to wait outside for you. And when the doctor told him, “I’m sorry, she couldn’t make it. We tried our best.” “No. no. no. no. no NO!! You have to be joking. My wife is a strong woman. She cannot just die easily! She can’t just leave me!!” Was Dazai’s response. He ran into your room and looked at your body. It looked like it was so cold, and it was. There was no signs of warmth in your body. “Belladonna? Sweetheart?? Darling?? My love…? just wake up… please.. don’t leave me..” Dazai said and then held your hand. “I love you so much, [name]. I hope you’re in peace right now, so please forgive for what I have done to you. You deserve better.” He said as he was trying to accept the fact that you’re dead. That you killed yourself because of him. That you died because of him. That you got your heartbroken, by him. He doesn’t ever want to let you go, but he has to because you have to go. You were the light of his world, and now, his world darkened once again.

• • That was so cheesy wtf || any req?? i only do bsd, genshin

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #dazai angst #dazai osamu x you #dazai x you #dazai x reader angst #dazai osamu x reader angst #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs angst #bungou stray dogs angst

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yes-divine-ruler · 1 year

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can I pls equest something smutty abt kai anderson, abt him and the reader being in an abusive relationship before he gets arrested and when he sneaks out of jail he comes to visit her and punishes her for not staying faithful whilst he was away (rough elements). This is buzzcut kai anderson btw (ikyk 😙). Fem reader as well pls. The reader is also a former cult member but she was being held hostage so she doesn't go to jail.

I love your account you're acc the best, how do you stay so motivated to write lmao 😭

Escaped Prison!Kai Anderson x Fem!Reader Smut - “Vengeance” (18+)

This goes with another request that was very similar!!

Can we get a smutty dark Fic with Kai where the reader is his girlfriend or ex girlfriend (always tried to escape their toxic relationship) and she had something to do with him going to prison. When he gets out he comes to get her from where she is hiding. And he is MAD MAD at her?

I am putting this one in the super kinky category, with extra angry hurt just escaped prison Kai

CW: oral (k receiving), fingering, rimming, unprotected penetrative sex, mentions of carving and guns, bit of physical violence

Words: 2609

You couldn't bear to visit your Divine Ruler in prison. Something about seeing him chained on the other side of indestructible glass would make him seem weak to you, and that wasn't the leader you knew. He'd been in prison for almost two years, and almost every week you'd get a phone call from Robert Gordon Correctional Facility, that you’d hang up on. Guilt ate you from the inside out, but you were more fearful than anything. Fearful that he knew that you, his most loyal follower, right hand woman and the person who got the brunt of most of his abuse, was the person who turned him in.

Today started just like any other in your small flat just outside Jackson, Michigan. You’d separated from the cult after the eventual capture of your leader, the rest of the men and women dispersing and integrating back into society like you did. You worked a normal nine-to-five job now, and spent your weekends on the sofa with your pet cat, mindlessly flicking through shows to watch on TV. But as night approached, something changed. You felt your stomach drop and your heart pick up pace when the news announced that America’s most dangerous cult leader and serial murderer had escaped prison.

He’d called your landline so many times you knew he had his ways of finding out where you lived. The thought alone made you swallow loudly, and your palms began to sweat.

You decided you’d distract yourself, picking your cat up and taking her outside for a moment to feed her dinner. You lit a cigarette between your lips and inhaled deeply. For the last two years you had resulted to smoking to help ease your stress, a bad habit your Divine Ruler had always frowned upon.

Bright headlights illuminated your back fence as you stood on your porch, and you squinted over it to see what it might be. A shadowy figure departed from a car, and it pulled away from your driveway and sped down the street.

It couldn’t be him? Could it?

You put out your cigarette by stepping on it, and picked your cat up again to bring her inside despite her wailing protests, locking the back door securely behind you. It was only a moment after you’d gone inside that three loud, sharp knocks echoed in from your front door.

You froze in place, holding your cat close to your chest as you listened again to see if the person outside would knock again. There wasn’t anymore knocks, and your front blinds were closed so there was no way you could see out, or they could see in to see if anyone was home.

You set your cat down on the floor, and padded softly over to the front door, looking out the eye hole and onto the street. You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stop a loud gasp from escaping your lips.

It was him. He found you.

Three more knocks sounded through your ears, and scared tears welled in your eyes. What could you possibly do? You had to pretend you weren’t home. Almost as if he knew you’d run with that plan, he began to shout from outside.

“I know you’re in there Y/N, open up, I just want to talk,” you watched him smile menacingly at the eye hole, and it sent a cold shiver up your spine.

You panicked, not knowing what to do, whether you should open the door or continue to ignore him.

“Come on baby, I won’t hurt you,” his voice sounded sincere, but you knew he was emotionally manipulative, a con artist even to you, in your many years of being together. It took for him to be locked away and seeing a therapist every month for you to realise that.

“Y/N! Open the fucking door before I knock it down,” he was beginning to get impatient, his loud insistent knocking scaring not only you, but your cat as she ran to hide under your dining table.

“Okay, you’ve made me do this,” he chuckles darkly, and that’s when you make the split decision to unlock the door and open it.

Kai Anderson stood in front of you with his lip split and his long blue hair shaved, leaving him in a buzz cut. He wore a correctional officer’s uniform, and as you stared at him in horror, he stared right back at you in satisfaction.

“Are you going to let me in?” He said coolly, as you hesitantly held the door open for him to come inside. He stepped passed you, making sure to nudge you with his shoulder, before he began turning lights on around your flat.

“What do you want, Kai?” You ask shakily, as he drops his correctional officer hat on your dining table, peeking under the table at your cat. You held your breath as he crouched down and reached out for her, scared he might hurt her to avenge you, but he only pat her softly on the nose.

“I wanted to see you baby, it’s been two years. Why haven’t you answered my calls? Didn’t you miss me?” His fake sad tone sent another cold shiver through your body, as he eventually stood up again to make his way over to you, the heavy boots on his feet thumping against the wooden floor.

“I-” you didn’t know what to say, as he stood inches away from you, his hand rising to tuck his thumb and finger under your chin. His touch made you flinch, and he let out a small noise as he noticed.

“You’re not scared of me are you? What do you need to be scared for?” He taunted, bringing his face so close to yours you could feel his lips ghost over the skin above your lip.

“Kai I don’t understand, how are you here?” It felt like years of therapy and growth came crashing down as you looked into his dark eyes, searching for the love he once gave you.

“I broke out baby, needed to make sure you were okay,” he lied, his thumb running over your bottom lip as they both parted from his soft, affectionate touch.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you Kai,” tears fell down your face as you shared this intimate moment with him, and he only smiled softly at you in response.

“It’s okay, I understand why you didn’t,” he said, now with the back of his hand softly caressing the skin of your cheek.

“Really?” You ask just above a whisper, leaning in closer at the off chance he’d connect his lips to yours.

“Yes, because you knew I’d fucking kill you for ratting me in.”

His hand came up to your throat, tightly grasping around it as he pushed you back against your living room wall. Your eyes widened in shock, the reality of your situation settling in as his grip only got tighter.

“You fucking bitch, I gave you all of me, I gave you a place to stay and this is how you repay me,” he spat in your face, as you let out a cry.

“Please- Kai- I didn’t-” you choke out before he cuts you off.

“Don’t even try to lie to me right now,” he reaches into the waistband of his pants, where you realised he was hiding a gun holster, and pulled out a handgun. A scream left your mouth, before he jammed the gun inside it, stopping you from making any more noise.

“I could just pull the trigger right now,” he seethed; his face close to yours as he cocked the gun as it lay against your tongue. You shook your head as he smiled at you deviously, your eyes red from the continuous stream of tears that soaked your horrified face.

“But I won’t,” he said, pulling the gun out of your mouth and letting it fall limply in his hand at his side, “because I have other plans for you right now.”

Kai leaned forward and smashed his lips against yours before you could take a breath, moving with body to press up against yours on the wall. His hands wondered the sides of your body, and although he’d held a gun to your mouth and threatened to kill you, you still kissed him back. Kai Anderson was like a drug addiction that you’d gotten over and now that you’d gotten a small hit, you craved the whole rush again.

Your arms flew up to wrap around his neck as he tilted his head, his tongue evading your mouth and massaging yours. You moaned softly as he pulled your hands away from him without breaking the kiss and holding your wrists above your head, stopping you from touching him. His lips left yours to suck and bite at the skin of your neck, small whimpers escaping your lips as bruises started to arise on your body.

“Fuck, you’re just as fucked up as I remember,” he said into your neck, “what a dirty fucking whore, did the gun in your mouth turn you on?”

His hands left yours to rip at the front of your shirt, tearing it down the middle and pulling it off your body. You gasped as your bare breasts bounced from the hard pull, Kai greedily staring at them before taking a nipple in his mouth. He bit down on it, causing a short sharp scream to leave your mouth, before he sucked on it again harshly. The pain was overrode with the pure bliss of having your breasts paid attention to, something that you didn’t get often after Kai went away.

His fingers targeting your shorts and wet panties next, pulling them harshly down your legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. He took a step back to admire you, naked and afraid in front of him, not sure of what he had planned next for you.

“Has anyone else seen you like this?” Kai was the first person you’d ever been intimate with, and he knew if someone else had, it had to be while he was in prison. The question caught you off guard, knowing that yes you did have sex with other people while he was locked away, but you didn’t want to reveal that to him.

“Even with my name carved into you?” He was getting more angry by the second, his eyes averting to the faded scar on your right thigh.

“Kai- please-” you knew he already knew the answer, deciding not to respond with the truth. He didn’t like that, his hand coming up to your cheek and laying a harsh slap across your face. You cried out as you slid down the wall onto the floor, holding onto your now sore reddened skin.

“You fucking little slut,” he spat, pulling on your hair and getting you to sit on your knees. You let out another cry as he held you by your hair, using his other hand to unzip his pants and pull them down.

“Suck it, before I lose my fucking shit Y/N,” he rubbed his tip against your closed lips, before you parted them, your mouth now filled to your throat with his hard cock.

His hand stayed tangled in your hair as he push and pulled your mouth back and forth on his erection, screwing his eyes shut from the feeling of your warm and wet mouth. You subdued a gag, knowing that would only fuel his desire to punish you for everything that you’d done.

“Feels so good,” he mumbled, fucking your throat as you look up to admire his pleasured face. Your hand came up to cup his balls and he froze underneath you, watching as you fondled them in your fingers. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, and that’s when he pulled your head away.

“Dining table, now,” he demanded, standing still as he watched you pick yourself up and lean forwards across the dining table. You were worried that your cat was still underneath but as if Kai read your mind he let out a chuckle.

“The cat is long gone, ran off down the hall,” he muttered, your body relaxing knowing she was safe.

Kai crouched down behind your bent over body, admiring the arousal that dripped from your needy pussy.

“So wet for me already,” he cooed, his finger coming up to run back and forth between your slicked folds. You let out a small whine as his finger entered you, and his thumb brushed against your clit.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He marvelled, pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another. Your back arched at the pleasurable sensation of Kai’s long fingers curling up inside you and hitting your g spot. Small pathetic moans left your lips as he continued his assault within your walls, humming to himself as he felt you clench around him in hunger.

“Answer me,” he said suddenly, laying a hard slap down on your ass cheek causing you to jump.

“Yes Kai, please,” you beg, resting your forehead against the table as his thumb began to rub harder against your throbbing clit.

“Please what?” He taunted, his fingers working faster inside you as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to untie.

“Please fuck me Kai! I need your cock!” You almost scream, desperate to feel your release. Kai tutted behind you, pulling out his fingers just when you needed him to finish you off. You let out a whine in disappointment, before it was overruled by Kai’s cock sliding into you. He gripped onto your hips, steadying himself back on his feet as he began to pound into you against the table. Your hands reached for something to grab on to as he spread your ass cheeks to watch himself move in and out of you. His thumb, wet with his saliva, circled your second hole, a feeling you hadn’t had in so long. Kai knew what you enjoyed and how to please your body just as well as he knew how to break you.

“You don’t cum before I do, you hear me?” He grunted, his thrusts picking up in pace as he threw his head back at the feeling of being inside you.

“Yes Kai,” you respond obediently, holding in your own orgasm as his cock rubs against your g spot the way his fingers did prior.

“Good girl.”

He thrusts slowed, before they picked up again, savouring the feeling of your pussy greedily clenching around him before he felt close to his own release.

“Im gonna cum all inside your fucking cunt,” he groaned, letting out a final moan as he spurt warm strings of cum inside you. Without his permission, you didn’t know if you could cum, whimpering as he rode out his orgasm.

“Cum,” he announced, still pumping inside you as you cum around him.

Your legs shake as you try to keep yourself standing, not daring to look at Kai as he pulls up his own pants.

“Now,” he says, leaning over you to whisper in your ear, “where were we?”

That’s when you felt the cold metal of the gun against the back of your head.

“How undignified, naked and filled with my cum, shot dead on your own floor,” his other hand came to hold onto the gun, as he cocked it again against your head. The pleasure you’d just felt disappeared from your mind, as you squeezed your eyes shut, ready to meet with your end.

“FBI! Open up!”

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