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sundrop-writes · 4 months

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Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.

Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

...

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It’s a newer song, and it’s one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone’s emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don’t have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it!��And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

This is another re-post from my old blog, and I do have a sequel for it in my drafts, which I am not actively working on. And before I post the sequel, I do plan on tweaking this and revamping it a little, but I figured I would repost this for now just to have the masterlist complete on this blog.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.

…

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.

“Who are your friends?” He asked.

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.

“No way.” You scoffed.

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.

“I am.” Dick said firmly.

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.

…

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.

You had no clue that you’d end up living together.

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.

…

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”

“Shut up.”

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.

…

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.

…

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.

But you would never admit that he was right.

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.

You just glared, and he smirked once more.

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.

“I know.” You grinned at him.

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.

…

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.

…

Hectic.

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.

So you took the leap.

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.

“You need this treated.” He added on.

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.

“Jason-”

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.

But of course, he cut you off.

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.

But, no dice.

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.

Jason sighed through his nose.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.

…

Dick explicitly told you to stay put.

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Jason!”

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.

…

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.

‘Maybe I just have to care.’

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.

“It’s nothing.” You told him.

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.

Jason shook his head at this statement.

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.

“I meant what I said.” You told him.

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.

He didn’t find any.

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.

…

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.

Panic flooded you.

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.

“Don’t move!” He shouted.

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.

He thought he was a dead weight to your life.

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.

You ignored him.

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.

But of course, you refused.

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.

So Jason did what he had to do.

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.

…

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.

“All done.” He said quietly.

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.

You felt your heart sink.

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.

It was something else.

It had to be something else.

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.

And now he was trying to back down from that.

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.

You were both so vulnerable.

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.

He knew that it would break him.

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

PLEASE NOTE: I do have a sequel in mind for this, but I don't know when I am going to have it finished and posted. Please do not ask me to write more of this or ask me when the sequel will be coming. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work here that I have already written.

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

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orphanedwolfandfriends · 5 months

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So fellers, I can't promise that this'll be the last post I make about them. They don't fucking listen when they're the reason why nothing's going their way. I may be petty, but blocking, reporting, and IP banning them with the handy dandy statcounter is STRONGLY recommended (if you can afford to anyway, statcounter has a monthly payment thing).

I personally suspect that they have an alt account that none of us are aware of, and I'll say with full confidence that I could be wrong.

I started knowing they existed on account of their dry writing and their godmodding, and after, they'd start to ask a mutual some intrusive and condescending messages on why they're so kind to me. Not my character apparently, me. They don't bother to learn character names and just use URLs to shit talk. They'd ask why there's fanart of my woof child and their muse, which lmao, why's that a fucking problem? Mind your own beezwax. They would also bombard that mutual with asks about their shadowban issue, why can the mutual see other people's asks instead of theirs, and the most the mutual could do was tell them what it means and how they can fix it (which they never did). And as you might've seen earlier, they said me drawing fanart of fictional characters was "weird" and talked about it like it was self insert art I was doing. Self insert art's not even an issue to begin with but yet they took it personally lmao. Perish. Also I wouldn't make my self insert be a fucking child, and the art wasn't even shippy in the slightest.

It got to the point where my mutual blocked them, and they moved onto a Vegeta blog, and really milked that cow dry for how long they'd keep messaging them and whining about them not jivin' with the godmodding, along with complaining to that Vegeta and someone else about everyone making bad comments about their oc. If you look into their blog, you'll see that this person does not have a bio what so ever. Not even in a separate post. So quite clearly they're just expecting everyone to submit to her Mary Sue powers despite the fact we know nothing about them. They even info dumped the same Vegeta through an ask which, dude. Limited text. Look it up.

And then, they would bombard a Raditz rper and bitch about how he's not submitting to their random stranger shit while Raditz accepted a fucking BLT from one of my adult muses, bombard an oc blog like "you're flirting with Raditz, I can tell, your oc's not any better than MINE", AND, try to act like they're such a hotshot at writing, which as you might've guessed, they're not. And they're actively painting themselves in a bad light instead of listening to people and accepting boundaries. They also bugged the shit out of a Beerus mutual, and another mutual who writes ocs, just 'cause the other's muse was just vibin' and giving Beerus food. There's literally nothing wrong with that, yet they'd keep bugging the other mutual with shit like "oh beerus is only keeping you around 'cause you're giving him food, beerus isn't nice blahblahblah".

Do you see a pattern here? They'll get pissy when they don't get any attention from all four of those characters, and send jealous, petty bitch-sounding messages over two friggin children that are just being nice. Imagine being jealous of a fucking child. Actually suck in that shame like a juice box, 'cause that is PATHETIC. Jealousy is legitimately not a healthy thing to have, especially over something like roleplay, and when you actively guilt trip or shit talk them just 'cause of that, that's even more pathetic. And hella possessive. Good luck being possessive when the muns aren't interested in your oc to begin with lmao.

They also chased off somebody after stalking them for a full on year, as I've been told, which from people saying "that explains a lot" when I said who they were, that's...unsettling. Not surprising, but unsettling. And they're suspected to be another individual named Skye. I dunno if that's true but that's why I say "suspected."

TLDR; Please for your own sanity, block @phoenixissims and report them for their harassment. Do whatever you can to keep them far away from you as possible. The Dragon Ball side of the RPC is not the only RPC they've harassed over the years, so it isn't their first rodeo with being annoying and creepy. Do not waste your time with a message.

Now with all that out of the way, phoenixissims, go fuck yourself with a pitchfork, and everyone else? Have a nice rest of the month. I'm going back to my usual tomfoolery.

#outofpuppups #{Negative}#{Callout tw}#Like I said in musecheerios; not sugarcoating shit for this person.#I'll only delete if friends 'n moots ask me to.#But if phoenix tries I'll just laugh. You brought this upon YOURSELF.

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queensectonia · 8 months

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ghost notes have to be one of tumblr's more annoying long-standing technical issues. i don't know if it's a user-side error (e.g., maybe the notes are from people you've blocked, in which case they shouldn't give notifications at all this isn't fucking hard), or a site-side error (maybe the people leaving the notes were shadowbanned or something. allegedly shadowbanning isn't a thing on tumblr but there IS an equally-longlived bug that achieves the exact same thing so it's all the same in the end lmao), but whatever's causing it is really stupid and seriously should have been fixed five years ago.

whatever the cause is goes deep, too. if i get a ghost notification saying "four notes on [blog]!", absolutely NOWHERE will successfully show these. my activity pages won't show it. going to the post on either the web URL or the mobile URL won't show it. logging out entirely and viewing the post that way won't show it. it is truly incredible.

all this to say, if i seemingly miss your interaction entirely and it doesn't appear to be because i have you blocked... it's tumblr's fault and uhhhh idk get a friend of yours to link me the post or send the ask or something. i wish there was a way around this it's mad dumb

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pjiminbloomx · 2 years

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AYO IT'S A TAG GAME BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hope yall enjoy getting to know me. Warning you, I am extremely uninteresting and the most burdensome specie on this fucking planet . Try to enjoy LOL ew

tagged by: @allorareverz my wifeu <3 and @highly-functioning-mitochondria! Thank you so much lovies hehehheheh.

name: jyadaee

sign: sag

height: 163 cm

time: 09:54 am

birthday: 30 Nov 03

favorite band/artist: BTS (obviously lol), stray Kidz, txt, young thug, DRE, 2pac (literally have him tattooed), snoop dogg, method man, Mobb Depp, Kendrick Lamar, Migos, silk sonic, the neighbourhood, playboi carti, travis scott, nelly furtado (I have a million other ones but I think these are enough LMAO)

last movie: I believe it was "friends with benefits" LMAO CLASSIC

last show: i am currently watching "Manifest" on Netflix and I've been inhaling it like narcotics.

when i created this blog: My old blog was created at around Januray/Febuary. But as you all know, I got shadowbanned so yay.

what i post: Not much but when I do I post fics and plan to post all other types of shit, including the ones that cause absolute destruction.

last thing i googled: i hate to out myself this way.... I googled "Signs to know he is in love with you"

-- don't mind me, I'm a desperate hoe :)

other blogs: this is my one and only blog, suck it ;)

do i get asks: barely, but fair enough lol im not as active as I should be.

following: 48 lol

followers: 23, believe me, im grateful.

average hours of sleep: 0-3.5 hrs (i have insomnia)

instruments: I used to play the piano, but it's been a while. But I play the violin. (ps haven't played in a bit either cause it's expensive and my siblings broke my old VINTAGE violin)

what i’m wearing: I am totally not mismatching right now. I am wearing brown baggy velour (its fake velour btw) pants with an oversized purple t-shirt, one pink sock with polka dots and the other sock is black with stripes.

dream job: doctor (haven't figure out what type yet)

dream trip: Basically all of europe, North Africa and South Korea of course (gotta find the hot kdrama dudes somehow)

nationality: jamaican/danish/kenyan/

favorite songs: (lately)

Shook ones- Mobb Depp

Drippin' - Young Thug

Pied Piper - BTS (foreva bitch)

tagging: @jjkeverlast @angelseokjinnie @btsstan12

#tag game #bts #pjiminbloomx

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nakajimahikouki · 11 months

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Hey guys, my art twitter [@ nakajimahik0uki ] got randomly banned last night for “breaking the Twitter rules” and it seems like it was part of a wave of mostly art accounts (according to r/twitter) that got sniped for “evading a ban” ... which lol my main twt has never been banned and I’ve never caused trouble on the site in my entire time being on there (since 2011!) so if you follow me there, I’ve started the appeal process and hopefully will get it back. I’m a little pissed! LMAO

But also I think I’m going to prioritize this art account again. There may be a little housekeeping done on this account and my personal over the next few days to prepare for that. :’) I don’t really know where else to go but back here to tumblr (they knew we’d all be back, I guess) and the way I post on this blog might change-- rather than ONLY posting finished art, I might begin posting works in progress as well.

If you have an art account on Twitter, I hope it survived the ban wave. If not, appeal it. This is the second time I’ve been mistakenly caught in a random ban wave, the first one was back in February and it took out a deep private, locked account with like 5 close friends following it and I only ever liked and RT’d there unless I was ranting about something, and none of my rants were such that it could trigger the algorithm to shadowban me or whatever. The reason given to me for that was “spam and/or platform manipulation” and after I appealed a second time I got my account back within a couple days. Just make sure to be nice about it, I swear that worked for me when I sent that second appeal.

EDIT: housekeeping is done. blog is useable now. EDIT 2: my art twitter was reinstated but I’m going to post more on here and try to decouple from bird app just in case it happens again and remains permanent :(

#admin: rambles

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nivorann · 2 years

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revengers...

assemble!!!

#my art #dream smp #dsmp fanart #mcyt #mcyt fanart #tubbo #tubbo fanart #technoblade #technoblade fanart #eret #eret fanart #i would tag sam but thats just mean #revengers trio #THATS A TAG NOW AOAOWOA #this post caused me to get shadowbanned lmao.

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spookybias · 3 years

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(same anon that sent the previous long ask)

I just want to clarify that i don't necessarily think shorter fics are bad, also I don't think that they always have terrible pacing. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. I just find that these days when I'm looking for a fic to read and it's max 1.5K words, I would read it but feel a little disappointed— maybe it's just me looking to get lost in the story for a while longer but that's ultimately how I feel. And also, I guess the length you're used to depends on from what fandom you came and when you started reading, because yes, for many years * my * fanfic experiences were 50+k words per fic (a lot of the trending fics were this long and obviously made the mold for the rest of the people who were starting out, so now I'm just used to bulky pieces of fanfic y'know?) although I'm not much older than you

I realise this is now completely off topic to your original post 🤣 I'm a content creator myself and I just plainly don't know how to get people to engage more with a creator anymore... I talk about this issue almost every day on my own blog but no one ever listens... I sometimes have people scroll through my whole blog and not reblog 1 thing and I've also had the experience of having one of my posts have not just an uneven like to reblog ratio but have 3 times the likes compared to reblogs, which is honestly just frustrating at this point...

Sorry if you didn't mean to have a whole discussion on this 😆 I just always have a lot to say it seems

oh no worries! it's okay. even if i don't have much to say, i still like hearing what's on other people's minds. i don't mind having this discussion at all. plus, i think i too strayed away from the topic lmao i feel bad, though, 'cause i think you sent this hours ago and i hadn't checked my askbox.

i agree with you. i don't think shorter stuff are bad at all, sometimes things just feel rushed. i'll admit, sometimes when i'm reading a fic that i find really entertaining and i see that it's less than 4k i get a little disappointed. i love the longer stuff because there's so much plot to take in. in fact, most of my favorite writers on here write 10k+. and 50k?? gosh. i lowkey wanna try writing something that long now 🤣

i think i've brought up the issue of uneven likes to reblogs ratios a couple of times, and so have a few friends, but we were ignored even after people spread the posts around. the only explanation at this point that i can possibly drum for as to why people just like and not reblog is that if you reblog too many things in one day tumblr might shadowban the blog or stop the tags from working for a handful of days to a handful of weeks. i've witness it happen to a few people on here and i think it's dumb that tumblr has this whole reblog feature, but if you reblog "too much" you get penalized in a way 😭 that situation is the reason why a lot of us have separate blogs to reblog other people's works or just queue the reblogs to avoid being mistaken for a bot or something. i guess people don't really want to have to make a separate blog or queue the reblogs, and no one is obligated to of course, but... it would be nice. more reblogs mean more exposure. and it's sad because when content creators see less reblogs or interactions in general, they sometimes become discouraged. there has been several times on here where i looked at the number of reblogs on my or my mutuals' bulleted reactions compared to the number of reblogs on my fully written oneshots, or i saw my mutuals who mainly write shorter stuff with like 12 anons engaging in conversation and i wanted to deactivate highkey 🤦🏻‍♀️

sometimes it does become a jealousy thing or just a disappointment to us because we know readers/viewers pick and choose who to interact with, and they usually (from my perspective) pick those who either write smut or write bulleted stuff. for the longest now i've kept my feelings about this bottled in, but i no longer care 😂 it's upsetting.

—

#✩⡱ genny answers

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musicdork · 3 years

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jjba social media/tiktok au!! (hcs)

there’s a lot about josuke im so sorry sfjlesfejk,, it started out as just him and then i was like “”,, what about other people?”” other’s are at the very end

it’s pretty fuckin long i,, im so sorry hh,, also my thought process was kinda Everywhere with this so like,, hope you can still enjoy this haha

[ edit ] this’ll be like,,, a masterpost or something for my hcs so this is,, very long,,

- you CANNOT tell me that Josuke isn't the kind of person who'd make thirst traps n him just being confident in his body like!!!

- tiktok josuke would be a blessing for me

- he'd make the thirst traps but in the caption be all embarrassed about it and like???? hOW ADORABLE!!!!

- i also feel like he'd make some gaming jokes,,,

- then ppl see jotaro a couple times and are like 👁️👄👁️💦

- OH MY GOD

- WHAT IF HE GOT OKUYASU N KOICHI TO DO SOME DANCES WITH HIM!!! or just them generally being dorks n they have a whole fanbase

- AND THE GIRLS AND THE GAYS GO BATSHIT LMAO (he's on gay tiktok, period. and like, other niche n weird spaces of tiktok)

- josuke's making a tiktok and it starts off in his room. he points up n text appears, "you guys wanna know how joot and i are related?"

- then he does a basic transition to where he's at jotaro's hotel room, having him and jotaro in frame with an arm wrapped around his shoulder.

- josuke's grinning

- jotaro has no fuckin clue whats going on

- a text appears above them, "say hello to my little nephew"

- i can see josuke doing povs, not the cringey kind but some that would be comforting for others;; who really need it.

- for his username my brain came up with starboy99 but he would definitely have his full name at the top of the screen

- probably part japanese to shorten the amount of characters he has to use (what i should've said is part KANJI n part romanji but hhh)

- i feel like he uses they pronouns too

- i have to think of his bio 👀

- definitely have his pronouns

- maybe a small quote? "just here to have a bizarre adventure! 💫"

- maybe something like that

- DEFINITELY have that he's a minor cause when he didn't have that,,, a lot of adults were simping for him and i feel that would make him Uncomfy

- he's adequate at transitions, but doesn't take too much time to learn them tbh. he's definitely the person to have vloggy type of tiktoks where he just shows a minute of his day

- absolutely would have okuyasu in his tiktoks with them doing dumb shit (like pranking rohan hehe) and them just being DORKS. a lot of ppl would think they're dating or just have a really good bromance

- he got a second of jotaro with his hat off and everyone died that day

- jotaro's in his tiktoks but very rarely

- when he is, people go BATSHIT with the simping

- i can see his following being fairly decent, and him getting decent traction but would also get shadowbanned a couple of times

- he definitely talks about retro games a lot and makes memes centered around them

- i can't say for certain what side(s) of tiktok he's on except for the obvious gay tiktok

- the more wholesome side, definitely activism, some povs, splash in some diversity, maybe japanese tiktok?? im sure that exists

- idk the more obscure sides,,

- he's a casual tiktoker for sure, maybe posting twice a week

- when he's especially bored he might post a couple times in a day, maybe an hour :'))

- i take that back, maybe three times? three times sounds fair

here’s a little break for your eyes lmao, there were a Lot more than i thought holy shit,,

- JOSEPH (P2!) WOULD DEFINITELY HAVE TIKTOK SJSNS

- rohan makes two tiktoks

- they both blow up (and act like they don’t know nobodayy HAHAHA)

- he has a large following (mainly jap)

- but he barely uses tiktok after that

- i can't see giorno having social media tbh

- he'd try to predict the algorithm based on the stuff he posts when he first gets the app.

- its mainly just him being a goof with a couple thirst traps thrown in there once he realizes "oh shit, i have simps?"

- caesar is featured once n already has a fanbase under joseph's acc (joseph's not jealous or anything,, nooo,,,,)

- like he's in the mafia,,,

- wait

- or maybe he just takes really good pictures of nature,,, i can see that

- a lot of people ask "where is this dude's parents,,,"

- narancia,, is the one who has tiktok (in bucci gang)

- mista would always (not ALWAYS but very. often.) find ways to be in them/photobomb

- i can see his (narancia’s) fyp being like super wholesome with some dumb memes but also popular music covers

- like rock covers or sumn similar

i deadass thought i had a couple for johnathan and erina too but!! can’t find them so,,

- so one day he makes a tiktok, inside the turtle lmao

- at first he's like "why are you guys asking where my parents are;;"

- the camera flips to abbacchio and bruno

- "they're right here"

- cue a chuckling giorno and a laughing mista

- they do all the couple tiktoks together,, all the cute ones at least. i can see them doing the more wholesome dances too! they would all around just be the cute couple everyone else aims to be

- also thought i had some part 3 hcs saved?? wtf my saving skills are terrible,,

- polnareff is the one with tiktok. he would go around filming small snippets of stuff that happens with the crusaders (ignoring that,,, tiktok Did Not exist at the time haha)

- jotaro and kakyoin were definitely featured in his tiktoks!! i can see avdol with his arms folded being like “...we have better things to do--”

- but pol is like “but the fans, avdol! think about the content they’ll be missing out on!!”

- he’s hopeless LMAO. but honestly?? he'd make a good vlogger too!! his charisma would definitely be to his advantage

- you bet your ass that oldseph photobombs any chance he gets lmaooo he’s also the guy that a small part of polnareff’s fans simp for.

- actually, each crusader has their own small fanbase within pol’s tiktok account. i feel the majority would be fans of jotaro and polnareff (it is his acc,,)

- jotaro’s fyp, when he reluctantly gets tiktok, consists of animals,, animal facts, funny animal tiktoks, ocean tiktoks for sure, just a lot of naturey stuff!! but he barely uses it though haha

- kakyoin uses tiktok every now and then! i feel he would prefer instagram more. he mainly posts his artworks, and the occasional retro game case hehe. he does the Dumbest shit on his “close friends” story, it’s great. i feel that’s also where he goes to ramble about whatever’s on his mind

- avdol definitely has a work instagram, only using it for his fortune telling business and trying to network with different tarot readers and fortune tellers. he likes the small community he has,, hehe,,

whoever read all this I'll cry in your arms

#jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #a phat chunk of this was josuke #sorry?#jjba hcs #jojo #jojo hcs #A LONG ASS POST IM SO SORRY SLFELK #jjba shitpost

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spacefoxy-irl · 4 years

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Man... my ocd is really affecting my blog count I just realised. It’s my obsession of having things neatly categorised that’s making me wanna create a new blog for every little thing. And I guess also the fact that I’m trying to please everyone or as many people as possible by sectioning my stuff based on the thought process “well majority of the people who follow this blog might not like this” etc.

So I got the rather personaless main blog @spacefoxy-jen that I’m keeping as clean as possible lol Like seriously filtering myself to appeal to a wide audience (like not everyone is gonna be comfortable with all the shipping stuff etc.)

Then there’s this blog @spacefoxy-irl that I created to allow myself to reblog whatever the heck I wanted and not hurt the main’s theme. And also for me to be a bit less bland and actually show that I do have a pulse and the main is not maintained by a bot lmao

And then come all the sub-categories.

@greetings-from-azeroth is my World of Warcraft blog where I reblog and post all kinds of stuff around my total obsession with the game. Made it it’s own blog cause I get not everyone is interested in that stuff.

@fox-army is a blog I made in conjunction with my website to showcase and celebrate people’s Eric Carr fandom. Cause the foxy deserves to be remembered.

Back when I was attempting to write some fan fic and get my headcanons in some sort of readable format - and to showcase my .. .I guess OC? I like to call him Foxy from time to time to separate him from the source of inspiration (Eric) cause he has turned into so much more.... I created @ericthefoxen to upload my writings... headcanon stuff.. and fan art cause I knew the stuff I was doing was probably not everyone’s cup of tea. The people who showed interest have since then disappeared but I still maintain the blog off and on. It’s my baby.

And then we have @fox-den-after-dark that tumblr refused to create a link to automatically and made me create my own link which is always a good sign lmao is that one shadowbanned or something? I mean I’m not surprised. Lets not talk about it xD;

#blurp

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

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The Girl Next Door

Hank Hall x Fem!Reader x Dawn Granger

Summary:

When you move in across the hall from Hank and Dawn, they become incredibly protective of you. When you ask Dawn for some advice to help your sex life along - she and Hank show you that everything you ever wanted has been right across the hall all along.

Dom!Hank Hall x Sub!Fem!Reader x Dom!Dawn Granger. Neighbours to Lovers. Smut. Set before the major canon.

Word Count: 5,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

List of detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: there is a mention of the reader being sexually assaulted (groped) by a random outside man - and Dawn and Hank kick his ass, mentions of canon level violence (not super detailed), the reader is more feminine - it’s mentioned that she wears make-up and participates in typical beauty rituals, age gap relationship (I imagine the reader to be 22/23, Dawn is 27/28, and Hank is 32/33) and it is mentioned in the fic that Hank feels slightly ‘guilty’ about the reader being so much younger than him and having sexual feelings for her - but he gets over those feelings of guilt when he realizes that the reader is showing enthusiastic consent/has a lot of lust for him and Dawn in return, sub/dom dynamics - the reader is submissive, Dawn is very dominant, and Hank is dominant over the reader but listens to Dawn/follows her rules (but not really in a submissive way??), the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, the reader character is not a virgin (the reader character is very faux innocent), under-negotiated kink - all parties have enthusiastic consent during the situation, but it is not thoroughly discussed beforehand and no safewords are in place (though Dawn and Hank obviously use queues like any signs of physical discomfort and they would not outright ignore the word ‘no’).

Dawn and Hank are very protective over the reader (it could be edging on yandere, but I don’t know how you could categorize it), mentions of alcohol - partly background, and there is a mention of Dawn drinking wine before the sex happens but it’s definitely not enough to impair her ability to consent (there is no explicit mentions of the reader character drinking alcohol), mentions of porn/watching porn, Dawn teaches the reader character how to perform a blowjob using a banana, (though it is heavily implied that the reader is more experienced than she lets on and is just playing innocent), innocence kink/corruption kink (kind of?), the world ‘little’ is used to describe the reader or her clothing, but it is not meant to imply that the reader is thin/skinny - it is meant to say that her clothing is too small for her (revealing a lot of skin), or it’s simply an expression, the reader is referred to as ‘sweetheart’, ‘sweetie’, ‘brat’, ‘good girl’, ‘honey’, ‘doll’, ‘naughty girl’, ‘slut’, ‘whore’, hair-pulling (Hank and Dawn pulling the reader’s hair), Daddy kink (towards Hank), the reader gives Hank a blow-job, size kink - mentions of Hank’s cock being massive and how his general body/frame is very big (no mentions of the reader being skinny/dainty), slight sweat kink, spit kink, mentions of ball worship (as a fantasy - doesn’t actually take place during the fic), finger sucking, leg humping, orgasm restriction (put on the reader by Dawn), I believe that is everything. This is generally just filthy smutty fun lmao.

A/N: This was originally supposed to be much shorter, and the cut off for blurbs vs oneshots officially in my mind is 5k. So this is a full oneshot fic and not just a blurb lmao. Blame Star she causes me to get carried away. Often. (It makes really great fanfiction though.)

For reference, this takes place during the period of time when Dawn and Hank had parted from the other Titans (after Garth’s death) and they were living in DC, before Dick and Rachel showed up there looking for help.

Also - the situation here is really similar to a scene in this fic and it’s completely by coincidence (I guess these are just my bisexual thoughts lmao) but I love the difference in the context and the energy of both of these fics even though the actual situation playing out is every similar. I guess it just goes to show - you can write the same prompt/situation for fics a dozen times, and it will come out different every single time.

…

When you first moved into the building, you never imagined yourself becoming so close with people like Dawn and Hank.

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t have been incredibly close with two people like them. They were both older than you, and didn’t really run in your social circles. An ex-college football star who had fallen a long way from his glory days, seemingly humbled a lot since then - who now picked up a lot of odd jobs, mostly of the handyman variety to fill his time. And a woman who could have easily been mistaken for a prissy primadonna on the outside, someone who was kind and down to earth, who filled her days teaching interpretive dance to combat grief at the local youth center.

You were a young woman, unsure and still forming a life for yourself as you shaped out how your twenties, and likely the rest of your life, were going to be. You were surprised when a fantastic job opportunity at a tech firm in DC made itself available. Seeing as you had recently graduated with the exact degree that the company had been looking for, you seized the opportunity to move states just to chase after such a prestigious job.

You had no idea how isolating it would be, being in a brand new city where you didn’t know anyone else, your family so far away. You had no sense of attachment, moving into a new home in a random apartment building just so you could start a real career for yourself.

It was only because of the kindness of those two people (who were random strangers to you at the time) that you didn’t feel completely lost living in that big, new, scary city.

Your friendship with them had started out because on the day you had moved in, Hank found you lugging your heavy boxes up the stairs when the elevator was out of service and - being the kind of guy he was - he couldn’t resist the urge to swoop in and help.

When you first saw him, you were slightly intimidated by his size. The fact that he was towering over six feet tall and built like a brick house of muscle did set off some alarms when he first approached you. But when he chuckled and made a joke about a teddy bear that had fallen out of one of your boxes, saying how ‘the poor little guy’ had fallen onto the floor, you knew instantly that Hank and that bear weren’t that different. They were both soft and cuddly and full of fluff on the inside.

It made you feel even safer when his girlfriend - a beautiful blonde woman came along - introducing herself to you with a gleaming smile. It was nice to know that someone with a calming presence like her would also be living across the hall from you. She helped to carry some of your boxes, even though you insisted that neither of them had to. All the while, Dawn nagged Hank, warning him that a previous ‘sports injury’ was going to flare up if he kept straining himself.

He didn’t listen. And when he tried to lug one of your particularly hefty boxes full of books up the stairs, he popped a disc in his back and you felt so bad when he bent over groaning in pain. It made you feel incredibly guilty, even though Dawn insisted that it was his own fault.

Dawn - who was surprisingly strong for her petite stature - helped you carry the rest of the boxes and even insisted on helping you unpack some of them while Hank sat with a bag of frozen peas on his back. The new friendship was truly cemented when you made them dinner the next day and brought it over to their place. You figured it was the least you could do after all the kindness they had shown you.

You felt so guilty because Hank had injured his back trying to help you and you wanted to do something to make up for it. But you had no idea that the injury had very little to do with the box of books, and a lot more to do with the fact that he had been kicked in the back by a drug dealer the night before. But that side of their life wasn’t something that Hank and Dawn were too eager to tell you about.

On the outside, they saw you as something - someone, so young and sweet, naive and unaware of the dangers constantly surrounding you. Because of the work they did as Hawk and Dove, they saw all those ugly things in the world - gun runners, rapists, drug dealers. Things they needed to protect you from that they never wanted you to know about. You were pure and sweet, something they were eager to protect.

It was probably why they grew so incredibly close to you so quickly - that sense of protectiveness. You were only twenty three, in this brand new city all by yourself, starting out a new job with predatory eyes everywhere, unsavory people eager to take advantage of you. And they were those sacred birds eyes above, those friendly people across the hall - the only people around who truly wanted the best for you. The only people who truly wanted to protect you.

It was probably why you fell for both of them so easily.

You could feel that protective blanket they put around you, even unconsciously, and you loved it.

You fell for Dawn’s incredibly sweet nature. With her helping you and giving you tips on everything from home decoration to make-up and self care. She made you feel pretty, and doted on, and always complimented you and praised you just to see you smile.

You fell for Hank’s subtle masculinity, and those vulnerable moments he shared with you. He made you feel safe and cared for without constantly asking to be thanked for it.

You loved him being there for you to help out with small home repairs - being there to fix your sink or help you hang curtains at a moment’s notice and wanting nothing more as payment than a cold beer from the fridge or a slice of pizza. There were even times when he didn’t mind you squealing across the hall to come and kill a spider you saw in your apartment. You didn’t know it, but he liked the feeling of saving you, he liked the joy it brought to your face when he could quietly declare ‘there, all better’.

And Dawn wasn’t much better. She liked to be your rescuer in other subtle ways. If you got a stain on your favorite blouse and she could return it to you in seemingly brand new condition, the way your face lit up put the sun to shame in her mind. She often knocked on your door with coffee in the morning, claiming that it was just easier because their coffee pot made more than enough for three.

You came over in the evenings to watch TV with them because Dawn had gotten you into cheesy shows like the Bachelor. And she often tricked you into watching ‘just one more episode’ until it was into the late hours and you fell asleep on the couch. She would never tell you that it was motivated by the simple desire to enjoy your peaceful, sweet face as you slept before covering you up with a blanket and retiring off to bed.

You would never tell her how much you enjoyed those nights either.

Whenever you woke up there in the morning, you would profusely apologize. You would tell them both how sorry you were for falling asleep there and taking up too much space, for being a bother. But Dawn and Hank would never accept it. They loved having you over and truthfully - you always felt sleepy and peaceful in their presence because you felt so safe with them.

This became particularly evident one night when you came home from a date bawling. You had big black streaks of mascara running down your face when you knocked on their door. It hadn’t even occurred to turn in the direction of your own apartment. The moment they saw you in such disarray, their hearts dropped with worry. Dawn began cooing sweet comfort as she took you into her arms; Hank clenched his fist so hard with feral rage toward whoever had made you upset that he nearly crushed the TV remote in his hand.

You had made the mistake of finally accepting a nagging invitation from someone at work who had asked you out over and over again. You thought it would be harmless, and at the very least, it would get the guy off your back once he saw that the two of you had no real chemistry in practice. Once the date was over, you had let him kiss you. The horrid, entitled man had groped you. He had ignored your disgust and your attempts to push him off you. He even tried to further assault you - the only deterrent toward him had been a harsh slap you delivered that put him in shock long enough for you to walk away.

You sobbed as you delivered the story. Hank and Dawn exchanged a cold look above your head as Dawn sat beside you on the couch, holding your hand and rubbing your back in a comforting way while Hank prepared you a calming cup of tea. It was a look that only said one thing: that guy was going to be paid a visit from Hawk and Dove. They stayed with you for the night - ate some ice cream with you, cuddled up with you on the couch watching shitty reality TV while Hank assured you that ‘you’d never have to see that asshole again’. (Of course, you had no idea what he was planning on doing to deliver you that assurance).

The next night, while you were in your apartment, working on some project for work on your laptop, they went out and found the guy. Dawn had found him through your social media and yes, someone like him was way too cocky to turn off his geotags. Hank held him down and Dawn showed him your picture, making sure that he knew to stay away from you - that hurting you was the reason for his broken kneecaps.

When you went to work on Monday, he had called in sick because he had some pretty grievous injuries. The working story was that he had been hit by a car.

When you told this to Dawn and Hank, Dawn gave you a small grin and Hank grunted ‘shame’ in the most utterly sarcastic way. You thought their reaction was strange. It caused you to develop the utmost suspicion that they had something to do with it, but of course, you couldn’t prove it. And it only deepened your feelings for them in the most beautifully strange way.

From that point on, they ensured that you always had them on call. They told you over and over again that if you ever needed a safe escort home, no matter what time, if you needed to feel safe at any time of day, no matter what, you could call either of them. (And on top of that, you didn’t know that Hawk and Dove checked in on you often if you were out on the town while they were out on patrol.)

It wasn’t long before you realized that no one else would be right for you. No one else outside of those two amazing, heroic, protective, kind souls - would ever make you feel the same way they did. And you definitely had to do something about it.

…

Hank wasn’t surprised when he came home that day and you were in his kitchen.

You practically lived at their place now, and he didn’t mind it.

You were someone he had come to like a lot - even if he probably liked you a bit too much. You were sweet, kind, cute. You were incredibly gorgeous. He wasn’t exactly dealing well with the growing temptation he had surrounding you. Especially considering that he was pretty much a decade older than you and he sometimes felt like a creep when his eyes lingered too long on you. But he found that a lot of the time, he couldn’t help it if you bent over in front of him - wearing those tiny little pajama shorts or those short skirts. Sometimes you even forgot to wear bottoms under a long sleep shirt if he caught you as you were getting ready for bed.

Dawn assured him that his attractions weren’t wrong, that it was only natural for him to want someone as perfect as you. Especially because she shared all of those attractions - she had eyes, after all. And if she had a passing thought that she might like women before meeting you, it was a deep confirmation inside of her after all the hours she had spent fantasizing about making you cum.

Dawn was firm in her convictions about you - how you belonged right between her and Hank. She was just trying to get the more hesitant Hank on board.

She knew that the age difference was the biggest thing that made him worry, but she told him over and over again that it’s not like you were some jailbait, naive little thing, as much as you sometimes acted like it. Dawn saw the way you looked at him, and she knew what kind of desires you likely held that they simply needed to help you unlock.

But Hank often warred with the instinct to protect you from all corruption and harm versus the deep underlying hunger to have you beneath him, being the one to corrupt you himself. And if it wasn’t for that guilt, for his fucked up issues - Dawn believed that they would have invited you into bed by now. But Hank hadn’t grown completely comfortable with the idea yet and she wanted to take it slow.

When Hank walked over to the kitchen counter and heaved the bags of groceries up onto the center of it, he realized what was truly peculiar about the scene as he looked at you and Dawn, sitting at the kitchen table.

Dawn with a half-finished glass of wine? That was normal. You holding a half-peeled banana that appeared to be half-soggy and glossy with spit? A bit strange.

The laptop sitting in the middle of the table’s surface, paused on a graphic frame of a woman with her overly plumped glossed lips around a man’s veiny hard cock? Not so normal. And it definitely informed the presence of the banana in this scene.

If Hank wasn’t mistaken - it looked like Dawn had been teaching you how to give a blowjob using a banana. It was something that caused a harsh electric lust to shoot through Hank. Oddly enough, it only seemed like a natural extension of the nights she spent teaching you how to do your own manicures because it was cheaper and the way showed you how to get the most out of a tube of lipstick by sticking a q-tip into the bottom. It was oddly adorable to see the two of you bonding like this, and insanely hot at the same time. Like a fantasy out of a porno that Hank definitely had not been expecting to walk right into.

The entire scene had blood flowing toward Hank’s cock, and he was glad that the dining table that the two of you were sitting at was on the other side of the kitchen island. It gave him something to conceal the slight hardness in his jeans that he was hoping he could mentally will down. He didn’t want to scare you or creep you out by having an obvious boner.

At the sound of the bags slamming onto the counter, you whipped your head back to look at Hank. Your face instantly hardened with embarrassment, as though you had been caught. You reached out and slammed the lid of the laptop closed, clearly wishing that Hank hadn’t had a chance to see it. The wide eyes and slightly pouted lip you gave him were too adorable. It was like you were waiting for him to tell you it was okay or ready to run if he said that he was disgusted with you, eagerly seeking his approval.

And of course, he wanted nothing more than to give you that approval.

“I’m not gonna laugh, sweetheart.” He told you, suppressing a nervous chuckle.

“It’s alright, honey.” Dawn told you with a giggle, taking another sip of her wine. “It’s not like he hasn’t seen porn before.”

“It’s fine. I’ve seen a lot worse in my time.” He confirmed this with a nod. There were probably things in his search history that would make you gag.

“You definitely got me curious, though,” He added with a chuckle, speaking about it as though he hadn’t figured it out already.

You went uncharacteristically silent, clearly shy now that the idea of talking about sex was present in the room. Your mouth gaped open and closed like a fish struggling on dry land, and your eyes kept flickering back to Hank, clearly still looking for that approval. He felt his cock swelling with even more blood against his will.

Dawn stepped in to explain when she saw you struggling.

“Y/N asked me to help her out because she’s got a hot date tomorrow night.” She told Hank, turning completely in her seat to face him. “She said she doesn’t have a lot of experience pleasing a man.”

Dawn gave Hank a very pointed look. In that kind of silent communication that only two vigilante partners could have, two people who always needed to have each other’s backs in the most important moments - he instantly understood what she meant.

Neither of them wanted you to go out on another date. They had simply been hoping that you would give up after that last disaster with the entitled bastard. Realistically, they knew that Hawk and Dove couldn’t ‘keep an eye’ on you through all of your romantic ventures. So this was obviously Dawn’s new plan. Make things friendly - distract you. She wanted to show you that everything you ever needed or wanted was right across the hall. She wanted you to see that you didn’t need to go on a dozen dates with a dozen different grabby assholes when two of the kindest people you would ever meet were right in front of you.

Hank could easily play along.

“I don’t think you’re gonna learn much suckin’ on bananas, doll.” Hank told you with a snort. “You wanna test drive the real thing?”

He tried his hardest to sound casual, as though he had no personal interest in you ‘testing out’ your skills on him. As though it wasn’t a perfect fantasy come to life before his very eyes.

You let out a shuddering breath as his words churned through your mind.

“You don’t - you don’t mean-?” You stuttered.

Your eyes flickered from Dawn, to Hank, and then down his body toward where the counter was blocking him at the waist. As though you were willing yourself to see right through the object and suddenly had the ability to inspect what was in his pants - wondering if that part of him would be just as intimidating as the rest of his size.

The way you bit your lip, slightly shy and obviously somewhat lustful, had Hank throbbing with full hardness.

Dawn downed the rest of her wine before she answered.

“Only if you want to.” She told you, shrugging casually herself, as though it were a simple conversation about what the three of you should have for dinner. She wanted to assure you that they would absolutely respect your consent. “I’m sure that practicing on a man like him will have you ready for whatever little guys come your way.”

Hank tried not to let his ego swell with pride at the comment.

…

That was how you ended up in your current predicament - on your knees for them.

You were kneeling in front of their living room couch, with a couple of Dawn’s precious decorative pillows helping to cushion your knees from the hardness of the floor. Because in her mind, a sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to hurt yourself while doing this.

You had your hands spread out on the muscled thickness of Hank’s denim clad thighs, with his impressively monstrous cock - most definitely proportional to the rest of his massive frame - pulled out through the zipper. You had your jaw stretched wide, lovingly struggling to accommodate it while Dawn guided your pace with a hand in your hair. All the while, she gave you gentle, sweet encouragement in her harmonious voice.

“Such a good girl for us.” Dawn said gently. “Make sure you keep your tongue flat. You’re doing so good, sweetie.”

The praise sent hot jolts right between your thighs.

You almost felt small in the presence of their looming figures, with Dawn’s careful eyes staring down at you and the sheer size of Hank’s muscled form. Especially because Hank’s shoulders were spread even wider than usual. His hoodie and shirt shed off because the entire situation was just too hot for him to comprehend, causing him to sweat already (a musk you couldn’t deny made him even more attractive to you). Both his arms stretched wide over the back of the couch as he gripped at the object with his large hands, making the wood of the frame weep with just how hard he was gripping it. He was heavily resisting the urge to reach down and grab your head and simply start skull fucking you.

Dawn had given him strict instructions not to. It was one of the only reasons she was even letting this happen. She knew that Hank could get carried away sometimes and forget his own strength. It was something she was used to, and she had more than enough strength and skill that his roughness was never a manhandling of her - it was a heated competition. Dawn was afraid that (while you had voiced that you definitely weren’t a virgin) you were too fragile and inexperienced to handle all of Hank’s desires right out of the gate, lest he accidentally scare you away. So she had to censor him a bit to help you explore your own desires in a safe way.

“You don’t have to take it all the way down, honey, I know he’s big.” Dawn chuckled.

You moaned in acknowledgement of this. Hank let out a choked-off sound, both at the vibrations from your mouth at Dawn’s words.

“But make sure you swallow - it’s like a suction, it makes it better for him,” She quickly added on.

You followed the instructions, causing a sharp pulse through Hank’s whole body as he felt the suctioning of your mouth against his cock. It truly tested his self control as he deeper resisted the urge to grab you by the hair and fuck your mouth.

It was something that left him struggling - his whole body rapt with pleasure, yet every muscle practically seized and shaking as he struggled to hold back. He was nearly insane, spread out against the couch as he held onto the plush frame for dear life. With Dawn contently sitting beside him, gently guiding your tender, warm mouth up and down on the hard thickness of his cock.

The feeling of your gorgeous mouth tore harsh rippling moans from his chest, bucking breaths from his nostrils that made him sound like a raging bull. It had him biting his lips in an effort not to urge you on or say terribly filthy things that he thought might scare you or cast a true light onto his perversions. He had swallowed down the words ‘perfect slut’ and ‘suck my balls’ several times now.

Especially with the feeling of spit flowing from your mouth and down his shaft, dripping wet and warm over his balls. It only made him imagine what your sweet, soft tongue would feel like worshiping over his sack and sucking his balls into your mouth while he got to see his overwhelmingly large cock flat against your face, making your head look so tiny by comparison.

The pace Dawn had set was practically killing him. Causing a slow burn in his gut, his orgasm coming on epically slow and teasing. He knew that if he didn’t cum soon, he was going to say something drastically filthy that he was going to regret.

He certainly didn’t expect your filthy mouth to act up first.

Dawn pulled you back, giving you a moment to get some air. This left Hank’s cock bobbing in midair as he throbbed with the need for release, a large string of spit dangling from the bright red head to your swollen lips as you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the cushioning Dawn had so graciously given you. She petted a sweet, gentle touch down the side of your face, and was about to ask if you needed a drink of water before you spoke up, shell-shocking both of their systems with your next words.

“How am I doing, Daddy?” You asked, your throat absolutely raw from the fact that his cock had accidentally bumped against it.

You sounded so fucked out and so utterly filthy as you looked up at them from down on your knees - your eyes slightly glassy with tears and a gloss of spit ready to drip down your chin.

Dawn looked at Hank with her jaw dropped in shock, her cunt throbbing from your words, expectantly waiting for his reaction.

Neither you nor Dawn were prepared when Hank let out a quiet ‘jesus’, and after a moment of recovering from the shock, he simply said:

“C’mere, ya little brat,”

And then he reached out, grabbed you by the back of the hair, and shoved you back toward his cock with intense force.

You had finally broken his willpower.

He began shoving you down onto his cock with force, fucking your face with a tight grip on your hair - essentially using your mouth like a fleshlight for his pleasure. He was only slightly canting his hips up off the couch to meet the touch of your swollen lips and your warm, velvety mouth, most of the effort put into moving you around him. It was something that had you moaning wildly around him, knowing that he was finally using you for his own pleasure instead of holding back.

Though Dawn was wrought with pleasure at the sight, she couldn’t help but let out a scolding ‘Hank!’ as she reached out to grab his arm, attempting to stop him. Your lids had fallen shut in what seemed to be a haze of pleasure and your moaning was obvious, but she still held trepidation because he hadn’t explicitly asked you first. And because of the gags that emanated from your throat as the head of his large cock roughly jostled you - something that only served to turn Hank on more.

“What?” Hank snapped at her, not stopping his movements even as Dawn dug her nails into his wrist. “She likes it.”

You moaned even louder in agreement, and Dawn frowned.

“Let her tell me that herself.” Dawn ordered firmly.

‘Let me fucking cum.’ Hank wanted to argue.

But he easily understood his girlfriend’s hesitation - so he pulled you off his cock with a noisy, wet pop. You looked more fucked out than ever, your eyes now ripe with tears, a thick layer of spit gathered on your chin and ready to drip down your neck, your expression absolutely hazy with pleasure.

“I like it.” You sniffled, a pleasured whine evident in your tone. “I love it. I want you to use me. Both of you.”

That was the moment it truly struck Dawn. There was no guy - there was no date.

When you had come nervously fluttering across the hall, fidgeting with the strings of your hoodie and shyly looking at the ground when you told her you were worried about what might happen if your date wanted to go to ‘second base’ - you had been lying. It had all been a ploy to get right where you were. On your knees in front of them.

She had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t even your first blowjob. You had been taking someone the size of Hank far too well for it to be your first.

Dawn grinned at you.

“Naughty girl,” She sighed.

She reached out and ran her thumb through that pool of spit on your chin, then shoved the digit inside your mouth, forcefully pushing down on your tongue until you gagged again. It was something that made Hank moan beside her.

“You lied to us.” Dawn tutted her tongue, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You wanted this all along, didn’t you?”

You nodded furiously while sucking on her thumb, and moaned in affirmation.

“Get up.” Dawn demanded sharply.

You looked between the two of them, and then Hank let out a sigh, hesitantly letting go of his grip on your hair. He knew that it was useless to argue with Dawn.

She took her hand away from your lips, and then repeated herself.

“Go on, stand up.” She told you, an air of pure dominance coming off her that you couldn’t help but bow to. (Well in this case, stand for.)

You rose up on shaking legs, and waited for whatever instruction she would give you next. You wanted to show that you were compliant, that you would be good for them.

“Take off your pants.” Dawn told you.

You eagerly rushed to comply, ripping down the zipper of your jeans to get them off your hips and kicking them off your ankles. When you moved to rip off the waistband of your panties, Dawn stopped you.

“Leave those.” She said, her voice just as commanding and firm.

You felt both sets of their eyes now fixated on the spot between your legs as you stood there in your underwear, socks, and a thin tee shirt. The panties weren’t anything special, because honestly, you hadn’t been expecting this to lead to sex. Just a plain cotton white pair that stuck to your cunt in a very telling way. The fabric absolutely seeped with a wetness that you had been trying to ignore as you heavily enjoyed the feeling of Hank’s heavy cock on your tongue. Now, as the cool air of the room brushed against that wetness, you found yourself unconsciously clenching your thighs, trying to seek some kind of relief against your throbbing pussy.

“See,” Hank said, motioning toward you - toward your visibly wet panties. “The little brat obviously likes it.”

The nickname coming from him made your cunt clench so hard that it was almost painful. You let out a whimper from deep within your chest and Hank held back laughter. Dawn smirked.

Dawn nodded in acknowledgement of what Hank had said - quite obviously, you did enjoy being choked on his cock and you likely enjoyed being bossed around too. It was the discovery of something beautiful.

Then, she moved a foot across the floor, kicking away the cushions she had set down for you.

“Lying whores don’t get cushions.” She said in response to your confused look. “Back down on your knees,”

You eagerly rushed back into your position between Hank’s thighs. You really didn’t mind the hardness of the floor against your knees or the way the area rug scuffed your skin. It would only be a good reminder for later that all of this had been more than a dream.

Dawn harshly dug her nails into the back of your scalp. You were expecting her to shove you toward Hank’s cock once again, but instead, she crooked your neck back in a rather painful way, drawing your attention toward her face. And then, she scooted forward slightly on the couch, and draped her thigh over the thickness of Hank’s calf, bracketing her leg with his and shoving her leg right between yours. You let out a pathetic moan as you felt the stiffness of her lower leg shoved right up against the tenderness of your neglected cunt.

“The only way you’re gonna get off tonight is against my leg.” She explained to you, her voice still velvety sweet, yet deadly authoritative. “Understood?”

You nodded vigorously, and she tugged harshly on your hair.

“Use your words, pretty girl.” She scolded you.

“I understand.” You whimpered.

You began canting your hips toward her, rubbing your pussy against the firmness of her leg. The feeling sent pleasurable sparks through your gut, and you couldn’t help the loud moan that you let out - something that easily made Dawn smile.

“Feelin’ mean today, aren’t ya?” Hank snorted, obviously believing this to be a harsh punishment.

“You’re lucky that I’m letting her cum at all.” Dawn commented.

It became immediately obvious to you which one of them was the more lenient one. (You would be taking advantage of that in the future.)

Dawn then shoved your head back toward Hank’s throbbing cock. You eagerly opened your mouth, capturing the bulbous head between your lips and letting her shove you down until you gagged on him.

“Now make Daddy cum.” She told you.

“Jesus christ.” Hank swore. “You better not start with that shit too,” He told Dawn offhandedly. Obviously he hated how much he loved Dawn calling him that name.

She leaned over to him and pressed her lips right up against his ear.

“Don’t even pretend you hate it.”

#sundrop writes #dc titans #hank hall #dawn granger #hank hall x reader x dawn granger #hank hall x reader #dawn granger x reader #dc titans fanfiction #titans x reader #titans fanfiction

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sundrop-writes · 4 months

Text

Not A Good Time

Gar Logan x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

You witness Gar using his fighting skills while on a mission, and you can’t wait to get home to show him just how turned on you are by him. (You give him a blowjob in a not-so-secluded alleyway.)

Gar Logan x Gender Neutral Reader. Established Relationship. Smut. Set during early Season 3.

Word Count: 2,000

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

This fic contains (Slightly) Dubious Consent. Both characters are feeling lustful and want to have sex, but one of them is feeling hesitant about having sex in a semi-public location where they could get caught. The other person has to convince them to have sex while these risks are at play. If this makes you uncomfortable, please choose one of my other fics to read.

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex (with a risk of getting caught), slightly dubious consent/coercion (see the above explanation for details), Gar gets a blowjob, the reader swallows Gar’s cum, switch!Gar, the reader is more dominant in this, fuck-drunk Gar, the reader is completely gender neutral/there are no specifics mentions of genitals for the reader, nipple play (Gar receiving), Gar calls reader ‘my love’ and ‘lover’ (cause that is my new obsession), dirty talk (kind of), slight scent kink/sweat kink, mentions of choking/gagging on a dick and slight breath restriction because of it. Hmmm I think that’s it? this is short and sweet. could be set outside the canon, or between season 2 and season 3.

A/N: This is another repost - because I am trying to break up the Titans Blurb Collection. Because I am trying to make sure I have everything transferred over from my old DC Titans Masterlist so I can delete the link to it lmao. I still love this one just as much as when I first wrote it, because every time I watch Gar fight/spar, I go batshit. He is so hot while doing it. Anyway, please enjoy, whether you are reading this for the first time or re-reading it.

...

“Now is… now is so not the time for this!”

Gar’s declaration came out broken, thanks to his breath wavering with a gasp as your teeth nipped along his stomach. You were mouthing right on the hem of his jeans, knowing it was a place that he was the most sensitive. His muscles jumped and jolted under your touch, a sure sign that he was getting wound up, even if he was attempting to verbally deny you.

You definitely enjoyed the taste of his skin, especially seeing as a light sheen of sweat had gathered on him during the fight. It was a natural musk that you found absolutely delicious under your tongue, something so Gar that it almost hurt. If you had been in your bedroom at home with him, you would have been tempted to strip him down and lick every inch of him, practically give him a tongue bath and tease him for hours before finally letting him cum.

You loved to drink up the sounds he made when he was fully at your mercy, loved seeing his muscles quiver when he was desperate for release. You loved making him beg for you.

But he was right. Now was not the ideal time for this.

Police sirens rang in your ears and you heard the distant chatter of Kory’s voice as she talked to the cops and likely to some reporters as well. Dick was off somewhere avoiding the reporters, and Conner was helping a crew lift some heavy barrels of some toxic chemical to load them onto a truck and get them away from the scene.

Once the rest of the team had all the loose ends tied up, they would eventually come looking for you and Gar.

But for now, you were on your knees in front of Gar - and you had no plans of giving the position up just yet. You had him pinned against a concrete wall inside the winding warehouse that the Titans had just cleared out. It was secluded enough that you didn’t think you would get caught.

You just had to convince Gar of that.

“Tell me ‘no’.” You announced boldly to him, mostly for the fact that you knew that this would be very hard for him. “Say the word and I’ll wait til we get home.”

You looked up at Gar through your lashes, tempting him as best you could with a bite to your lip and a lustful glow in your eyes. You gave another sharp nip to his exposed skin, digging your teeth into the soft flesh with taut muscles underneath. He drew in a sharp breath at this - clearly you were heavily testing his patience.

You had his shirt raked halfway up his body and held there by your hand, because surprisingly, all of his clothes were still on. You crept your grip under the fabric and blindly felt around until you got your fingers on his nipple. You gave it a sharp tweak as you sucked a visible reddish mark beside his belly button.

“Y/N!” He yelped out your name at this unexpected burst of pleasure-pain, his body jolting under your touch. “Wait-”

His protests dissolved into a needy whine as you continued to roll his nipple between your fingers and tongue wetly along his skin.

His fists were curled tight at his sides, clearly trying to keep some semblance of self control. Obviously, he was using every ounce of willpower not to bend you over the nearest object (which appeared to be a large chemical drum that was an ingredient for the mass chemical weapon the Titans had just disturbed the plot of) - and fuck you senseless. But he wasn’t pushing you away. The temptation was just as big for him.

Especially if the thick bulge sitting under your chin was any indication.

He was just as enthralled by the idea of possibly getting caught. He was intensely turned on at the idea that you couldn’t wait to get him home.

“Someone is gonna come by-” He argued, his voice almost breathless.

“That’s not a ‘no’.” You replied, your voice a melodic taunt as you reached for his zipper.

Watching Gar fight always got you horny. It was a simple, but firm fact of life.

You did love the Tiger. It was something you found oddly cute where others considered it terrifying, and you loved to pet him and cuddle with him while he was in the Tiger form, given any opportunity to do so.

But you loved to watch Gar fight when he was his normal human self infinitely more.

Back when the two of you had started training at Titans Tower, you were quickly struck with the realization that Gar wasn’t adorable when he fought in his human form - he was downright filthy hot. The two of you almost never practiced sparring together, because if you did, you became far too distracted by the sight of him. You always left wet spots on your underwear and spent many minutes staring at him gape-mouthed as he moved with athleticism and increasing skill.

Seeing Gar Logan covered in sweat, seeing his muscles flex and stretch as he moved to defeat an enemy - in practice or with purpose - was always the highlight of your day.

And Gar knew this.

It’s probably why he had chosen no to utilize the Tiger for the mission that night. He would tell Dick it was because he wanted to put his fighting skills to good use. But in reality, he had wanted to turn you on. He had tempted you into this.

Gar took one last haste look around.

Of course, you had pulled him away to a somewhat secluded area. You weren’t that dumb. You weren’t in the direct eyeline of any of the other Titans, and you would definitely be finished by the time someone thought to come looking for you.

“Fuck it.” Gar sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Ask me nicely,” You dared to tease him further.

You began to pull down the zipper anyway, the metal teeth moving loudly and slowly as you looked up at him with a coy, almost bratty expression.

You had won. That’s all that mattered.

“Suck my cock.”

Gar replied, the words ripe and full of want on his tongue.

It was something that instantly made heat bloom between your thighs.

“Please.”

Then he added this on - almost sarcastically, with that entitled, witty little smile.

You could have devoured him whole.

Instead, you chose to suck his soul out through his dick until he was absolutely dizzy. You wanted to make him regret being so snarky.

You took the zipper down the rest of the way and popped the button on his jeans, knowing that his mighty cock would need the extra room to escape. As per usual, he wasn’t wearing any underwear, which only made things more convenient for you. His long, thick cock, hard and ready for you, was exposed to the chill of the air for a fraction of a second before you had him in your mouth. You sucked him halfway down with enthusiastic determination.

He let out a downright needy whine - something so utterly beautiful coming from him. The sound was unhinged, bouncing off the concrete walls as he tipped his head back and closed his eyes with pleasure. If he was worried about getting caught before, then he very quickly forgot about it.

Luckily, all the bustle of shifting off the criminals and quiet whoop of police sirens securing the scene easily drowned out any of his sounds for other ears. You were the only one able to hear his sweet little whines and desperate huffs as you fucked him with your mouth.

You were lucky to have your hands on his hips because it meant you were prepared for the motion of him bucking forward into your lips. And although he had enhanced strength from his powers, you were able to hold him back somewhat and keep him from choking you. You weren’t a stranger to choking on Gar’s cock, and it was something you equally loved.

But this time, you were going to be in control.

“Fuck, Y/N, your mouth is so fucking good,”

He jumped into lust-mumbling, something he often did when your mouth was on his cock. It wasn’t intentional dirty talk, so much as it was a hazy, lust drunk set of words that fell from his mouth without much thought to it. It was something about him that you found to be entirely endearing.

“God, you’re so perfect, oh! Your fucking tongue-”

You pulled back slightly and shoved your tongue into his slit. You licked up the precum that was freely leaking from him as you pumped the rest of his cock with your hand. His dick felt wonderful and thick and pulsed in your hand, and you took a glance upwards at him. His chest heaved from your efforts already and he looked so fucked out, his head leaned back against the concrete wall while his mouth was wide open in a beautiful, pornographic O.

“Fuck, I love it. I love the way you suck me off, lover. You’re so fucking good at this.” Gar continued, his breath stolen by you already.

You loved it, too.

You pressed your fingers to the base of his dick and held him steady for your mouth as you sunk down on him again. And then, with the time constraint in mind, you began bobbing your head, keeping a tight suction on your lips and flattening your tongue against him. You turned your mouth into a perfect, wet little place for his cock, sucking him off with vigor - eager to drink his cum.

“Ah!” Gar cried out, moving to buck his hips again.

With only one hand holding him down, he was successful this time. He inadvertently made you gag as the head of his dick poked at the back of your throat. It spurned tears from the corners of your eyes, but you loved it. He heard the gag and immediately felt guilty for his uncontrollable muscles, driven by his wild lust for you.

“Sorry, my love, I - oh, fuck!”

You simply doubled down and sucked harder on him. You hollowed your cheeks and intentionally let the head of his cock slip back into your throat, cutting off your air supply for a dizzying moment before you pulled yourself back.

That really got to him. The feeling of his ultra sensitive cockhead being completely surrounded by your tight, hot throat - that was what truly pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck, ‘m cumming,” He moaned, reaching out and taking a tight grip on the fabric at your shoulder, digging his fingers in there and holding onto you tight. “Cumming, oh fuck, oh Y/N, fu-”

He cut himself off with another moan, the words completely choked off in his throat as he delivered on that promise.

You had to put both your forearms firmly across his stomach to pin him against the wall with all your might to keep him from bruising your throat mindlessly with his hips as his orgasm rocked his body. You kept bobbing your head, lovingly drinking his cum down as it shot into your mouth in thick, hot spurts.

As you swallowed the last of it, you continued to vigorously suck around him - you were feeling a little bit spiteful that he had tried to deny you. It was a small, petty revenge. The action caused him to whine and shake from the overstimulation - one of your favorite sensations with him.

“You’re a menace.” Gar huffed out, now entirely breathless as you pulled off his softening cock and wiped your mouth.

“I’m your menace.” You easily corrected as you tucked him back into his pants.

When you found your way back to the others, Gar was still dizzy in his post-orgasm haze, leaning on you for support, and Dick questioned if the criminals you had arrested had drugged him with something. Oops.

...

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging it, or leaving a comment telling me what you liked about it! And please keep in mind, this work will not have a continuation as its meant to be a standalone oneshot. But I do have other Gar fics in a similar style on my DC Titans Masterlist.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction #gar logan x reader #gar logan #garfield logan #garfield logan x reader

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