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inkskinned · 1 year ago

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hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.

#writeblr #for real gimme book recs lol

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emwwrites · 8 days ago

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Matters of the heart

MDNI

t.w. Jason is a lil forceful, non-con if you squint (maybe idk). Tiny lil bit of degredation

wc. almost 2k

My first published filth 🤭. Thinking about writing a part 2 cause why not.

Jason Todd pushes you away because the last person he trusted had lured him into a warehouse and he lost his life.

But it’s something you can live with. Family is a foreign concept, love even more so. It’s enough for you, (or so you tell yourself), the heat in the sheets, the way he always just so happens to be there when things go wrong on your patrol. However, it does make things all the more harder on select jobs, such as this one.

“Sionis is holding an auction.” The words are enough to make your stomach churn as you gaze up from the freshly brewed mug of coffee on the stained wooden table. It’s far too early to be talking about this, you think. Even if you were content with the detached nature of your loose friendship, sometimes you can’t help but yearn for the simpler things. Sometimes you wish he’d ask you about your dreams, even if they were all nightmares. Sometimes you wished he’d tell you about his dreams. Something. Anything to make this feel less like a mutually beneficial arrangement, like there was more to you than just your body. “Black tie. Buy a matching dress. Events tomorrow.”

He lifts the mug to his own lips, blue gaze watching you, fixed as you gaze down at the sudoku puzzle on the back of the week old, coffee ring stained paper. You’d completed the puzzle in under three minutes. You’re not sure why you left the paper out. Maybe it was a faux attempt at normalcy. What would normal people leave lying on their table?

“What are they auctioning?” You give Sionis the benefit of the doubt, your own gaze flickering up at the brood of a man in front of you. But as soon as the words part your chapped lips a twinge of regret settles in your chest.

You don’t miss the way his jaw ticks, the subtle swallow as he lifts the mug to his lips and downs the rest of the coffee. He fails to meet your gaze as he stands, stalking out of the kitchen. The regret morphs into something more— a rock that settles uncomfortably. His silence was telling enough. Some things were better left unsaid.

Seemed it was far too early to be talking about this.

“How are we getting in?” You ask, lips pursed as you scooch forwards in the passenger seat, pulling down the sun visor to touch up your red lipstick. “I’m not scaling the building in a dress.” You add idly over the hum of the engine, your gaze shifting to the side to steal a glance from him. The butterflies erupt instantly. The way he leans back, legs parted, one scarred hand resting leisurely on the steering wheel while the other rests against the gear shift. That concentrated look on his face, the slight crease in his brow.

As you speak, the corners of his lips quirk up somewhat. As if he didn’t know what that little smirk did to you. “It’s a surprise” he challenges. He’s in far too good a mood considering the circumstances. A part of you resents him. It’s a dark, ugly vehement hatred that courses through your veins. He looked good— far too good. You roll your eyes, a scoff parting your lips. “I’d rather it not be a surprise.” His smirk is only there for a moment before he pouts, casting his own gaze towards you momentarily as he pulls up in a parking spot. “What? You don’t trust me?”

It’s a tease and you know it, but your reaction is visceral. Another scoff and narrowed gaze towards him as you shove the sun visor back up. The action is far tougher than it needs to be. Teasing was not uncommon between the two of you. Maybe if the situation was different you wouldn’t be so fired up. Maybe if he saw you for more than your body— maybe if he loved you back, appreciated you, trusted you— maybe if he didn’t look so damn good you would’ve played along with the tease. “I’d trust you with my heart.” You’d scowled in the heat of the moment, your words filling the air of the ‘67 Ford Mustang that he’d borrowed from Bruce. “You’re the one incapable of trust.” It’s a low blow, and it makes you feel sick as you step out of the car and slam the doors shut.

It’s hard to keep those previously buried feelings below the surface. Desperation is an ugly look, but to hide it is akin to letting the ants under your skin relish in tearing you muscle from bone.

As you approach the entrance of the inconspicuously looking office building, Jason approaches by your side, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close to him. The doorman is a large built man. His gaze scans the two of you up and down. Jason nods, reaching into his pocket and handing over a slip of paper. The doorman moves aside and returns the nod.

Inside the building, you can hear the sound of low jazz reverberating off the walls of the hall. At the end is another double door.

“I trust you.” Jason had spoken up after a beat of silence as you approached the door. “If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be here.” He steps forwards, opening the door for you. You can feel his gaze as it settles in you, scanning. Reading. You don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. Not when he was playing stupid. As if the trust on a mission was mutually exchangeable with trust for matters of the heart. “You know that’s not what I meant, Todd.”

He introduces you as his girlfriend. A made up alias to accompany Jason Todd, one of the many heirs to the Wayne Empire. He’s a cocky bastard for using his real name, but he can’t help himself. Not when Jason Todd is still technically dead, or so the official certificates and records state.

The night continues on, but you still can’t shake the tension. Maybe it’s the visceral anger in your veins. The longing. How easily Jason slips into the role of loving boyfriend for a mission but can't commit to taking you on a real date. To ask you to move in. To trust you. To shower together and do all that domestic bullshit you convinced yourself you were happy without.

And so it isn’t any surprise when Jason drags you into a bathroom on another floor of the building. How his grip is tight on your bicep as he pushes you past the door of the women’s bathroom and follows in behind you. “Fuck you.” You’d scowled, stumbling into the small room. The anger of being manhandled bubbles over, it ebbs and flows like molten lava. It was a series of events that’d led to this moment. Your refusal to kiss Jason back— your refusal to smile, to wrap your arms around him.

“You have three fucking jobs.” The raventte seethes, backing you against the grimy sink counter, caging you in with his large body. You reach out to grab his hand, fully intending to break the digit he’d shoved in your face, but he’s faster. Grabbing your wrist in a swift movement, his finger still remains up. “To stand there, look pretty” another finger “and at least pretend to be in love with me.”

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?” You scowl back, swatting his hand away instantly. “To pretend? Is that all I am to you? Something to use to get whatever the fuck you want?” A scoff and a venomous sarcastic laugh from you, you watch the way his eyes twitch.

“Not worth the real effort, to trust but suddenly worth enough when it comes to a job?”

He looks lethal. Gaze ablaze and teeth grit as he stares at you. “You really think it’s that easy for me?” His voice is low, controlled. “You’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m pretending.”

The kiss comes all at once. Releasing his hold on your wrist, one hand wraps comfortably around your neck while the other clasps the back of your head. It’s disorienting and your mind is blank with the ferocity of his lips. Teeth clashing against teeth and tongue against tongue, as his hand moves from the back of your head to your ass, his big hand cupping the supple muscle beneath the veil of the dress. For a moment you’re mesmerised. Caught in the heat of kissing him back before you return to reality. Shoving him back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You scowl, your breaths heavy and labored. His reply is almost instantaneous. “Shut the fuck up.” Grabbing you by the arm he turns you around, forcing you to face the mirror. He’s against you in a moment, the fabric of his shirt and jacket against your back, the bugle of his cock rubbing against the cleft of your ass. “Shut up and listen.” He grits out again, his hand wrapping around your throat, pulling your head against his shoulder. “Because you clearly don’t get the fucking hint.”

One hand slides down, wedging between you and the edge of the sink, deft fingers find themselves slipping between the slit in the dress, toying with the lacy material wedges between your slick folds. “Fuck.” He breathes out, dragging the material up against your clit. You jolt against his hand with a sharp breath. "Jason--" you scowl softly, a halfhearted attempt as your gaze fixes on his in the mirror. “You think I’d go around fucking any desperate slut?” He rasps in your ear, fingers rubbing against your clit. He grins at the mewl that parts your lips at the sudden contact.

“You think I’d come balls deep inside that sweet fucking’ pussy of yours if I didn’t trust you.” Pulling the slick fabric aside, he plunges a digit in as if to prove his point. The sudden action makes you gasp, your body jolting again at the sudden intrusion as your hand grips his own. “If I didn’t love you?” The confession is raw and knocks the air out of your lungs as you squirm against the mass of muscle behind you. A string of soft pants and moans part your lips as your eyes transfix on him in the reflection. His hair is tousled, black strands a mess, and the white patch hanging over his face. “J-Jay—“ you pant. The hand around your neck tightens, constricting your breathing for just a moment. Enough to get his point across without words.

“Think Id wake up with you in the morning if I didn’t love you?” He continues, a grunt as he flicks at your clit, his body trapping yours. “I make your fucking coffee in the morning for fucks sake.” He pulls his digits out of your dripping cunt, grabbing the fabric of the dress he throws it up over your back, exposing your bare ass and what could be seen of your bright red thong.

“Fuck,” Jason curses softly, taking in the sight as he lets go of the hand around your throat, bringing it down hard against the supple skin of your ass. You jump at the sudden contact, a moan of surprise. He looks at your reflection in the mirror. Wide eyed, struggling to process the brunt of his words and touch.

A hand settles on your hip while the other fidgets with his flyer. “So here’s what’s going to happen.” He states as he wrangles his cock free from its confines, pumping the head, spreading the glistening precum over his length. He steps forwards, pressing the length between the cheeks of your ass, rubbing the glistening slick over you. “I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you.” Pulling the g-string aside, he slides his cock into the fabric, rubbing it between your folds and slick.

He makes a small sound of satisfaction as you moan at the contact, your back arching. “Gonna fill you with my come on the sink of this public bathroom like a whore.” Another teasing rub to drag a long whine from you. “Then when I’m dripping down your legs, we’re gonna go back out there and finish this job so I can take you home.” He leans forwards, hand sliding down to push his cock into your wet heat with a single movement. “And fuck you again.”

#emwwrites!!#dc #jason todd #jason todd x reader #god i love this man #red hood x reader #red hood smut #MDNI

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