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messylustt · 1 year

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𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 4.8k words

fic masterlist previous part pt four next part

violence + mentions of blood and injuries (this is quite visual ha); angry + kinda ‘blood lust’ miguel; someone gets electrocuted, reader kinda does (small amount—I’ll be honest I don’t know how getting electrocuted exactly works, so for the purpose of the story ignore if the way it happens isn’t realistic, thank you!) — when you’re left alone in the tech room, many spiders out on missions, something unexpected happens. when miguel finds out his face falls and his claws twitch in anger. after the incident, you find miguel walking down the hall, calling to him he asks you questions, and you offer your help with something.

It was silent. For what felt like too long. Besides the tap of your fingers on the keyboard—which had begun to slow.

Usually you’d hear distant conversations or the sound of web shooting, but instead only silence greeted you. Unease began to make your body turn, your chair spinning with you.

You weren’t sure if you were just being paranoid. You were alone in the office. Which wasn’t anything strange, but it meant that your growing paranoia festered a little stronger.

You edged closer to the door, finally hearing what sounds to be rumbling. Low and too vague for you to decipher. Your hand reaches out to the door handle, but just as your fingers brush the smooth metal, you’re forced back.

Your body flies, coming to a bruising hit on your hip, making you hiss in pain. But you’re quick to get up, rushing to a clear wall, and away from the explosion. You breathe heavy as you slump against it, your ears slightly ringing, while your gaze stays blurry against the random scraps of metal and dust.

You look to the communal intercom, quickly rushing towards it. Someone or something that isn’t supposed to be here is. You have to warn the spider-people who are out on missions.

But where are the others?

Just as you reach the com, the sound of quick scuffling boots can be heard to your left. You snatch up the intercom, slipping under your desk, tucking your feet into the dark just as multiple pairs of unwelcome boots come into view.

Your shrink further into yourself. You couldn’t speak in warning to the spider variants or these guys would hear you. Your eyes narrow on the bottom of their legs. All black, but so far appearing humanised rather then some large monster. An anomaly?—you think to yourself—multiple?

You clutch the intercom mic tighter, your finger grazing the on button. And that’s when they begin to speak.

“Get the tech.” A gruff voice says. “Now! We can’t waste our time!”

You can hear more scuffling of boots as the sound of unplugging, or more so ripping follows.

“Boss, they’ll be back.” One of them said. You try to get a good look at them, but your movements will cause too much attention, so you grind your teeth and listen harder.

“If you pick up that damn monitor we might have a chance to get out quick enough.” What you assume to be the gruff voice of ‘boss’ says.

“Who even made you in charge?” One grumbles out.

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Not all of them, though.” One adds. You try again to peak out. You manage to scale the bodies of three, all in black, with…masks. Damn it. They looked worn out—handmade.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.” Boss agitatedly says.

And as if luck is still on your back-burner, your foot slips, only a fraction, but enough to knock a piece of stray metal across the floor.

“What was that?” One of the masked men asks.

The silence now following sounds threatening. You place your hand over your mouth, to quieten your breathing, as the scuffs of boots draws closer.

;;

“Ben!” Exclaimed Miguel, just as static breaks through his ear. He hisses, not expecting it, as he holds the earpiece, brows furrowed. Then the static grows clearer.

“Get the tech. Now! We can’t waste our time!”

“Boss, they’ll be back.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as he listens, confused at first. When he looks to the other spider-people they’re are all holding their own earpieces, trying to comprehend what they’re listening to.

“Who even made you in charge?”

“Who’s idea was it to lure those stupid spiders out on some fake mission, that, might I add, required a decent bunch of those freaks?”

“Lyla, what is this?” Miguel asks. She appears by him, tapping away at screens.

“It appears to be coming from a communal intercom.” She says.

“At HQ?” He asks, already flexing his claws. “Which one.”

“I’m just finding out. The connection is muffled.” More tapping.

“Well, lucky for us the remainders are all too busy in the lobby. Now hurry up and pack the bags.”

The voices still infiltrate Miguel’s ear. “Lyla.” He sounds impatient. “Which one?”

Then she stops tapping. “Y/n y/l/n’s.”

Miguel freezes, looking at Lyla as if she would be one to crack a joke. Then he hears the knock of something metal through his ear piece, followed by a ‘“What was that?”’. He can now hear your heavy breathes, slightly muffled, as heavy boots hit the floor.

Then all sound is gone.

He doesn’t wait for anyone, pressing his wristband to open the portal to HQ. But Jess stops him. “Miguel, think about this. What if it’s them?”

Miguel glances at her, shrugging her grip off his arm, as he taps at his wristband again, the portal opening up. His expression is downcast, one could easily say terrifying.

“Miguel! You have to think this through.” Jess persists. “We have spider-men and woman back at HQ—”

“Who are clearly too distracted to do anything.” Miguel grunts out, webbing towards the portal. But Ben intercepts this time.

“She’s right, Miguel. Don’t worry about the tech, we can get it back, or even get new ones—“

“The tech?” Miguel actually sounds in disbelief. “You think I’m fucking worried about the tech?!” His red eyes gleam, and Ben gulps.

“Then what are you worried about, Miguel?” Jess asks, exasperated. “Because I don’t see anything else that needs urgent attention. The tech is the main—“

“¿Tú no? The tech is the last of my worries, Jess.” Miguel interrupts. But this time he isn’t yelling. This time it’s toned down, and somehow that makes him appear much, much scarier.

“Miguel.” Jess tries to calm him down, not understanding what he could find more worrying. Data had been saved on that tech, important data. She places one hand on his wrist, but he immediately shrugs her off, glaring.

“Get out of my way.” He snarls. She doesn’t move, crossing her arms. “The reason why you aren’t hurt against that wall is because you earned my respect. That’s slipping, Jess.”

“Miguel you’re frantic.” She says.

“Call it what you want. I’m getting to HQ.” He webs past her, and Jess finally has the mind to let him go. Though she still stands there worried, and confused about what could have made Miguel so urgent to get to the scene.

;;

You tighten your hold on the intercom, now switching to use it as a possible weapon, as the boots near. You prepare yourself by silent deep breaths and a focused gaze.

The boots stop in front of you, pausing for only a moment. Then the desk is being flung to the side. You choke a gasp, managing to slam the intercom down into the guys shin, the harsh metal side bruising and buckling his leg.

He exclaims in pain as you scramble to your feet. You can finally see the detail on the three mens’ outfits. A dark green weaved into the fabric. Then you see the claws for hands, and all three of their masks turned to you. Shit.

“Who are you guys?” You manage to get out, as you reach behind you for a keyboard.

One looks at the other before looking back at you. “Were you here the whole time?”

You say nothing, edging closer to the exit. It’s silent from them for a moment then “…kill her.” The gruff voice of ‘boss’ says. And they’re quick.

You try to rush away but one yanks you back by your hair. You angrily swing around and knock the metal keyboard across one of their heads. Some of the pieces shatter against his mask.

But then one is grabbing your neck, pushing you against the wall. “Sorry—boss says no tattle tales.” The guy tightens his hold, and your hands scramble against his in an effort to intake air.

There’s a moment where your vision blurs. But there’s also a moment where his knee shifts letting your leg harshly kick out. You’re glad to find him humanised in his pants as he doubles over.

You rush away from the wall, heaving. One of the masked men is already trying to grab you and as his clawed hand wraps around your arm, he’s pulled back, a shining orange web yanking him straight into a monitor, his head smashing against glass.

The speed makes his claws cut across your flesh but your adrenaline is far too prominent for you to care. You notice the other guy stalking towards you, making you swiftly gaze around at your environment, Weapon. Weapon. Weapon. You stop on a machine, wires poking out, sparking with electricity. Holding a certain point you pull two out, ripping the electric wires, before stabbing them into his stomach, the electric current making his body shake and twitch.

You soon have to let go as they grow unbearably hot, leaving scolding burns on your fingertips and palms. That’s when you notice the owner of the orange web. Miguel has ruined the guy he originally threw into a monitor, his body now a bloody pulp.

You have to quickly look away to the second guy who had obviously gotten up from your kick and landed straight into Miguel’s palm. Miguel is retracting his claws from the masked man’s body, blood tainting the tips of his fingers, as he breaths harshly but somehow still controlled.

Miguel looks to the guy knocked out in front of you, still occasionally twitching from the strong current of electricity. You feel light headed, placing your hands on your knees as you try to slow your breathing.

But then you feel a hand. And not a friendly one as the masked man passes on some of the electricity moving through his body into your thigh. You scream, the half electrocuted guy—his hair frizzed and slightly cinched—stumbling to a stance, just as you fall to the floor.

Then you hear a crash and a curdling scream—not from you.

Miguel inserts his claws into the guys neck, practically ripping his throat out, as the guy chokes on his own blood. The blood sprays across Miguel’s face, leaving slight speckles as he rips the rest of the man with his teeth, letting him drop to the floor.

It was animalistic in way, as his tongue licked his fangs, his breathing now harsher—angrier.

But then he sees you drifting from consciousness on the floor.

Miguel doesn’t know what breathing is, or the meaning of the word slow, as he reaches your side in a millisecond, his hand coming to grab your face between his fingers—maybe a little harshly but his entire being was still on overdrive.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks as he slightly shakes your head. “Y/l/n.” He hisses. “Wake up.“

He’s gentle now, realising that you’re a human and not some villain he needs to hurt, as he checks your pulse not wanting his claws to cut you. “Y/n!” He finally exclaims, as you get roused awake.

Your leg feels painfully numb, as your eyes flutter open. A thin layer of tears is making your eyes sparkle as you finally meet Miguel’s gaze. You try to slow your breathing, shutting your eyes to reassess.

Miguel tightens his hold on your cheeks. “No, no. Open them.”

You do, though they stay hooded. “I’m just…tired. No need to sound so harsh—shit.” The lasting electricity still spasms up your leg, as the hold of Miguel’s hand makes the tears fall.

You begin to shake your head, partially trying to get out of his hold. “Stop.” You say.

“Stop what?” Miguel instantly replies, his gaze shooting to your thigh.

“Just—“ you breathe. Then Miguel finds the deep scratch mark on your arm, his hand grabbing it as his eyes dart. “It’s fine. Just a cut.”

“Y/n, you just got attacked. You’re a weak human, don’t try to sound so tough.”

“You’re not helping.” You hiss, tilting your head back as you try to keep the tears in, not wanting them to fall. “And that was kind of mean.” You mutter the last part just for the sake of it. Using your pain induced state as an excuse to blurt out your annoyed feelings with Miguel.

Miguel grabs your chin, trying to pull your gaze back to his, but you resist, keeping it tilted away. “Stop.” You say again.

“No.” He answers, successfully pulling your chin back, and holding it there. “Why aren’t you looking me?”

Your eyes are darting around, before you choose to close them. “Y/n.” Miguel is stern, but underlying that he sounds almost desperate—almost.

You can feel him move closer to you and you place your hand out to stop him, your palm ending up against his chest. “Can you not—“

“What—not help you?” He asks harshly.

“Can you look away.” You say, finally opening your eyes. “Please.”

“Why?” Miguel isn’t budging, staying close to you. He’s already dialled in medical on his wristwatch.

“Jeezus Christ, Miguel! I don’t like fucking crying in front of people. It’s a weird thing I can’t get rid of. I hate it. It makes me feel embarrassed—“

“Embarrassed?” Miguel interrupts.

“Yes. Embarrassed.” You hiss harshly. You couldn’t find your filter, your tone far more aggressive then usual with the throbbing pain in your arm and the spasm of your thigh.

“Well, that stupid.” He says.

“Yeah, it is. But it’s not going away. So if you could just look away and let me…I dunno…recompose myself.”

“Recompose yourself?”

“Yes! Stop repeating what I’m saying!” You exclaim, only to follow with a groan of pain as you try to sit up.

Miguel knows your mind is frazzled and your body is reactive. He pushes you back down, grabbing your cheeks again.

“You got partially electrocuted and cut—deep, I’d think you’re a psychopath If you didn’t cry.” Miguel says, his volume dropped to one almost soothing—almost.

“Doesn’t make me hate it any less.” You mutter.

“Wow…I’ve never seen you this annoyed before.”

You narrow your eyes on him. His hand that was gingerly inspecting your thigh had slipped over your waist, partially caging you in.

You try again to sit up. But Miguel yet again, keeps you pressed to the floor. “O’hara.”

He leans closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “Stop moving.”

“I’m fine.”

“No your not.” He easily answers, which earns him a half hearted scoff. “You know I think I prefer you trying to suck up instead.”

You meet his gaze glaring. “I have not been sucking up, I just like—“

“This job. Yeah I’ve heard you.” He interrupts.

He can hear commotion behind him, but the voices of rushing spider-people makes his shoulders relax. The medical have arrived, and as you notice the new people you quickly wipe your cheeks, brushing against Miguel’s hand, as you get up.

Miguel finally let’s you, by slipping his arm around the back of your waist. You try to swat it away—any physical touch usually induces the waterworks you desperately wanted to keep at bay—but he tightens his hold, resulting in your side being flush against him.

The medical spiders inspect your bruised body. “It’s her thigh and upper arm…” Miguel begins telling the spiders. Then he grabs your hands holding your palms out. “And hands.” The burnt marks look raw, and you hiss as Miguel had to slightly stretch the skin to show.

He immediately lets go upon hearing the sound of pain. “Thanks Miguel, we’ll take it from here.” A medical spider says, already at your side checking your cut.

Miguel narrows his eyes on the spider variant, watching as you bite your lip as they inspect your wound. He sighs, finally getting up and letting your waist go. At the sudden shift your hand flies out to his leg, or more specifically his thigh.

Your quick, tight grip has Miguel stopping. You change your position, not having realised how much you were using Miguel as physical support, before you’re quickly taking your hand away and coughing.

You give him a brief nod. “Thanks for the help.”

Miguel scoffs. “Help? I did a bit more than help.”

You’re praying to get some anaesthetic soon so that your pain won’t make you loose your job. You press your lips together harshly. “Of course. You did spectacular.” You say.

The sarcasm isn’t lost on him. He eyes you once more before he’s walking out the exit.

You sat there, finally taking a proper breath. You don’t know why you were holding it for so long. …maybe you did have a clue. The image of Miguel ripping the guys neck out, blood staining his face is still fresh in your mind.

You’ll be honest, it scared you. He kind of scared you. But not in way you’d think he’d hurt you, just one that made him seem unpredictable. I mean what happened just then, with his touching and softer tone was something completely unforeseen.

If someone told you he would be do that today you’d actually laugh. Miguel was unpredictable and intimidating in general, sure, but what seemed to scare you more was the way he looked when his eyes shone with blood lust. His eye colour seemed fitting now.

You also happened to be scared of the way the sight made you feel. Something that settled far too low in your stomach.

;;

Miguel went straight to the lobby where a spider variant he kept high up in the ranks resided. “You. Get up. Now.”

The spider variant immediately stood, as he nervously followed Miguel to his office. The orange tech screens were the main thing lighting the place.

And as Spider-Man took a breath he lost it as soon as Miguel slowly turned to him. Blood still stained his skin and claws and suit, and the spider-man felt the urge to run.

“Where were you today?” Miguel asked, leaning back against a table and crossing his arms almost too casually.

“I was…here, Miguel.” He said steeling his spine. He knew where this was going.

“Were you?” Miguel asked, his eyes trained on the spider.

Spider man gulped. “I’m really sorry, Miguel. I didn’t hear any sort of explosion. I didn’t get any awareness. Which…shouldn’t happen.”

“You know what ‘shouldn’t happen’?” Miguel asks, now twirling an empty glass on the table. “Spider men and woman shouldn’t only rely on that “tingle thing”.”

The spider hangs his head lower in apology. “Someone could have died today.” Miguel continued. “And you would have what—been too busy playing poker?”

The spider variant winces at his words. Miguel knew of his addiction, always using his free time to gamble.

“Do you get that?” Miguel asks.

“I do. I’m sorry.”

“Sadly that’s not gonna cut it.” Miguel says, making spider man look up. “I left you in charge while I was gone. You failed miserably.”

“Miguel. I didn’t mean to only rely on my usual awareness, it’s a force of habit. That’s never happened before. I can always sense when danger is close.”

“But you didn’t.” Miguel says. “There’s someone in medical right now who got injured—badly. And she was all alone.” Miguel has stood up, stalking towards him.

“Now for personal reasons I may find her annoying.” He quickly mutters out. “But that certainly doesn’t mean you can let her die. Do you hear me?”

Spider man quickly nods. “Of course. This’ll never happen again.”

“No it won’t.” Miguel turns away, and the finality in his voice makes spider man’s eyes widen.

“Miguel—“

“Go home.” Miguel cuts in, stepping up to his screens. Anger still seeped from every pore.

;;

You woke up, feeling a dull ache in your body, but for the most part you felt alright. Better, a lot better. You swing your feet off the medical bed, realising that the lights were out.

Your feet hit the cold floor, before you quietly step towards the exit door.

Making it out to the hallway you were grateful you were already on the high level, no need for a long travel up the stairs.

You needed to rest. Alone. Not surrounded my medical items. You slowly headed to your room, but stop upon seeing a familiar body walking away.

“O’hara.” You say, making the figure freeze.

You quicken your steps, reaching him. He turns and you have to stop the intake of breathe at the reminded visual of the now dried blood.

“You didn’t want a shower?” You joked, forcing a chuckle.

Miguel just scans your body, narrowing his eyes, his expression is it’s typical, solemn and moody. “You should get back to bed.”

“I was actually heading to my room. But I just wanted to…thank you.” You say, finally making Miguel meet your gaze.

“You really did help me back there.” You spare him a small smile and a nod. Then your gaze gets caught back up in the blood stains, as you gulp.

“You saw, didn’t you?” Miguel suddenly asks.

You look up. “Mm?”

“The reason I’m covered in blood.”

“Oh.” You say. “It was…quite impressive.”

“No it wasn’t.” Miguel says making your brows furrow. He steps a fraction closer. “You didn’t think so.”

“What do you mean?”

Another step. “You thought I looked animalistic. Scary.”

You dart your gaze down to his slowly moving feet before quickly looking back up. You shake your head. And in return Miguel nods.

“You think I’m scary.” Everything he’s saying is statements. He knows, but you keep shaking your head.

“Don’t do that. Don’t lie.” He says, much, much closer now. “You’re terrible at it.”

You stop the shake of your head, blinking a few times. “O’hara—“

“Just be honest.”

“I am.” You say, straightening your spine. And as your eyes dart you notice a deep cut running across his thigh. The dried blood, his.

You step closer. “Why didn’t you get that checked out?”

He glances down at his wound. “It’s fine.”

“Oh come on, don’t do that. Don’t act like your above it all, including pain, and infection.” Your blatancy makes Miguel raise a brow.

You pause for a moment, mulling over potential decisions in your head. Then before it could get later and before you could back down you speak. “Follow me. Let me help.”

Miguel stares at you. “It’s fine—“ he goes to monotonously repeat.

You just grab his wrist, pulling him towards your room. Miguel grabs your wrist in turn, preparing to pull your hand off.

“Hey. You made me go to your room, now I’m just returning the favour.” You say.

Miguel stares at you, scoffing. You let go of his wrist, knowing you don’t have the strength to pull him. “If you’re scared I don’t know what I’m doing, then know that I studied to be a nurse before I found out about…all this.”

“Why?” Miguel asks. “Why help?” He elaborates.

“I just told you.” You say, beginning to head to your room. “I feel weird if I’ve seen your room when you haven’t yet seen mine.”

“That’s not a good reason at all.”

“But your walking my way aren’t you?”

Miguel hadn’t realised that he’d moved to your door without the permission of his mind. He curses under his breath as your scent floods his senses, your room making it ten times worse. This is the last thing he needed.

But you’re already shutting the door and ushering him further in. “You can um…” you look around. “You can just sit on the bed.”

No—Miguel thought. God, no. But you were already getting out an older looking kit from under textbooks—your stuff having been brought to you from your universe.

He slowly sits, trying not to get one bit comfortable. You reach his side placing the kit on the bed, as you drop to your knees.

Miguel’s breathing stops at the visual. You’re directly by his thigh…kneeling. No, no.

Miguel clicks his jaw, looking away. He looks back down, to see your hand is midway from touching his cut thigh. “Why are you doing this?” He can’t fathom why you would actually want to help him.

You sigh. “I just feel kinda bad.”

“Bad?”

“Mhm.” You nod.

“For any particular reason?” Miguel pushes.

“No.” You sarcastically scoff. “You’re just generally a person everyone feels bad for.”

Miguel narrows his eyes as you chuckle. He shifts on your bed. “Stop doing that.”

Your hand stops by his cut, thinking it’s the touching of his wound, when in actual fact it was the way your ‘chuckle’ had sent a strange vibration through him to somewhere he desperately didn’t want you to notice. He was right. This was a terrible idea.

Then you’re touching him. Delicate and gentle, as you pull away his ripped suit. You begin to dab what looks to be an alcohol cloth onto his wound, and in response Miguel snarls, his grip tightening around your sheets.

“Sorry.” You mutter.

“Dios.” He mutters, closing his eyes a moment. “Stop being nice.”

You look up at him. “I have to say, I’ve never heard someone say that. Usually it’s ‘stop being mean’.”

His face is tight as you continue to clean his cut. “Someone said that to you?”

You pause. “No actually. But I just mean in general. And I’m not being ‘nice’ to you. I’m returning a favour.”

“Ah.” He hums, before all his muscles tense. “Can you hurry up.”

“You’ve never let anyone touch you up before, have you?” Catching onto the fact that he’s clearly cleaned his past wounds himself.

Miguel glares at you. “So, you can stop.” He reaches to take the cloth from you, but you lean away resting your hand on his knee for support.

“You can just sit on the bed.” Miguel grits out. He couldn’t watch you being on your knees for him any longer. Not unless he’d do something he’d end up regretting.

“That’s okay, it’s an easier angle here.”

God. You had to stop. ‘Easier angel’? Yeah, Miguel definitely wasn’t thinking about you cleaning his cut. He runs his hand through his hair.

You quickly reach out grabbing his wrist. He looks at you, expectantly. “You have uh…blood on your fingertips…claws.”

Miguel darts his gaze across your face. “And you’re worried about it getting my…hair dirty?”

You shrug. “Well, now you’re making me sound stupid.”

“I don’t need to do that.” He quips, and you shoot him a glare. “But um…” he drifts off, as you look up at him, now waiting expectantly.

“Did you find me…scary, or whatever?” He asks, and surprisingly there’s a hint of…vulnerability hidden in his tone? No—you think to yourself—that can’t be right. “Before. With the anomalies.”

You dab a fraction harder, making Miguel hiss a groan. You ignore the way it vibrates through your body. You shake your head.

“Why do you keep lying?” He asks.

You sigh. “I just—“

“Just?” Miguel seemed to really want to get an answer out of you. He shifts closer. And when you don’t answer, continuing to focus on his wound, he grabs your jaw, pulling you up to meet his gaze. You gulp, his large hand nearly reaching to wrap around your neck.

“Do I scare you?”

Your chest picks up a quicker beat. He leans closer, pulling you towards him, your chest hitting his leg. “Do I—“

“Yes. Alright.” You quickly say. “A little bit…yes.”

His grip tightens around your chin a fraction. “Because of what you saw?”

“And the way you talk to people.” You mutter out. Why were saying this? This isn’t something you say to your boss.

You hadn’t noticed at first but one of his claws had begun to brush back and forth against the skin of your jaw, his eyes not leaving yours. You were utterly frozen. And there’s a moment that you just catch where his gaze darts down to your lips, his breath feeling extremely close.

But then he’s leaning away, his jaw clenching as he looks to the door. “Are you done?”

You quickly look down to his cut, rushing to get out a bandage. “Uh, almost.” Your entire body was buzzing.

While you stayed focused on finishing him up, Miguel’s gaze went back to staring at you. He almost gave in—almost. He wouldn’t, though.

You were scared of him. He knew you were somewhat so, but now hearing you say it confirmed that you’d never see him how he had gradually started seeing you. He had to stop. Now, before he dove in far too deep.

He couldn’t let himself go any deeper. Because at this rate he’d certainly drown, and if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be from some silly little crush.

okay, I’m sorry, I lied. there is nothing sexual in here. but I didn’t think adding anything like that yet would work. since a lot of you guys asked for a slow burn

again, I hope this is up to a good standard for you guys to continue reading. I wanted to add something a little different then the usual Spanish lesson then Miguel’s end of the deal. I needed some action of some sort.

and ofc, part five will come soon x love you all MWAH

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taglist #2 taglist #3

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kimberly-spirits13 · 4 months

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At the Stitches

Pairing: Jason Todd x black widow reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, and getting stitches

Summary: Jason comes home acting strange and while stitching him up, you figure out why. (angstish/ fluff)

Word Count: 1633

Your bathroom echoed as you hummed a Russian lullaby while twisting small pieces your hair into tiny braids. You had pulled it back to keep it out of your face during patrol but following a traditional instilled in you at a young age in the Red Room, you had the impulse to add little braids throughout it. Jason was due to be back home soon, and you would take over patrol. Every few months, Bruce made sure to have someone patrolling the entire night due to possible crime spikes. Keeping everyone fresh and awake on these nights was vital to avoiding injuries. The melody continued to echo through the bathroom as you remembered the lullaby of the older Widow that took care of you while you were being studied for your powers in the Red Room, “Bayu-bay, all people should sleep at night. Bayu-bay, tomorrow is a new day. We got very tired today, let’s say to everyone “good night”, go to sleep Bayu-bay.” You took the last clear elastic band and tied off the last braid in your hair. When you were satisfied with the stablility of the elastics, you picked up your mask that was sitting next to the sink after being cleaned. In case Jason needed some help after patrol, you waited for him to climb through the window. When you heard the swing of the window and the thud that was his boots landing on the floor, you knew he was back.

Jason was putting his helmet on the counter when you came inside the living room ready for patrol. He seemed heavy, like he was exhausted tonight from galivanting through the city. There was a large red gash on his side, pushing little streams of blood over his shirt. He looked at you with tired eyes and you knew he needed rest.

“How’d you get that, Jaybird?” You quipped, examining the wound before helping him pull his shirt over his head. He groaned as you did, wincing when his arms came back down. There were a few bruises painted over his body, and a swollen spot over his eye, despite him supposedly having his helmet on all night.

“Wasn’t paying enough attention.” He huffed, “Patch me up?”

“Yea, I just need to make sure I’m not late.” You answered.

You walked towards the master bathroom again, where you made sure to keep the more extensive first aid kit. Jason was following slowly, dragging his feet, and making the time tick by. It took him longer than usual to get to the sink and sit himself up on the counter, next to where you had prepared to stitch up his wounds. He signed heavily and rested his chin on your head, burying you in his chest. Instead of pulling away immediately, you waited a bit, giving into his neediness for the moment before trying to pull back and grab the rubbing alcohol. Jason seemed to have a vice grip on you once you tried to pull back, forcing you to stay where you were.

“Jay, I have to clean your cuts, babe.” You lifted your hands onto his arms and started pulling them from you until he sat back up, “You should go to sleep instead of waiting up tonight, you seem exhausted.”

“I’m fine, I’ll wait up.” He said.

“Honey, I don’t want to seem argumentative, but you look like you’re seeing stars.” “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I told you I’m fine Y/N.” There was a combative tone in his voice, causing you to drop the point of contention. Obviously, there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Dick says that Grundy is out again.” You said, plopping a cotton pad on the open top of the alcohol bottle, “Apparently there’s some new magic aspect that Bruce wants me to look at considering my magic. I’d say if it’s Grundy it’s dark.” “Hey, stay still for me.” Jason was moving around enough that you couldn’t properly clean and bandage his wounds without him reinfecting the area before it was sealed. You began the process again, realizing that you were probably going to be a few minutes late. Cleaning where the cut was, he flinched a bit. When you tried to make eye contact to see if he was okay, he saw that he was already staring intensely at you. You both looked away as you grabbed the needle to stitch him back up.

“I’ll probably ask Zatanna what she thinks about it. Maybe it’s not that big of a deal and I can take care of it tonight since there’s so many of us out patrolling. I might go check it out later to see-”

“Shit Y/N!” Jason’s fist hit the counter causing a loud bang, your hand to flinch back thinking you hurt him, and you look at him with confusion. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t gotten stitches before.

“Sorry, sorry.” You held up your hands, showing up that you weren’t doing anything that would hurt him, “Sorry Jay I didn’t think I was hurting you.” “Are you okay? I mean you need to be stitched but maybe I can-” Your voice wavered off as you started grabbing one of the white bandages that you could wrap around his entire torso before Jason grabbed your hands gently, making you drop the roll of bandages.

“Fuck, sorry, Y/N/N. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He said, speaking like a puppy with a broken tail, “Please don’t leave.”

“Babe, the others will be out there alone, I have to be there, especially if there’s some sort of dark magic involved.” You said, a worried look settling over your face.

“No, you don’t. They’ll be fine, Bruce is out there now.” “You can’t go out there.”

“Jason what’s wrong?” You asked, your hands still trapped in his, “What’s out there?”

“I just- you can’t go.” Jason was trying to plead an argument with you, but it seemed he couldn’t find the words.

“Jason, what happened?” You asked, worry and concern lacing your voice and your hands, still in Jason’s dropped into his lap.

“It’s a warzone tonight.” “I mean, it’s been worse, it’s been so much worse, but you can’t be out there without me. Please don’t leave Y/N/N, you can’t, please just stay here. I can’t make sure that you’re okay, I can’t follow you around tonight, can’t keep up with you. You can’t leave.” Tears started welling up in his eyes and you tugged your hands out of his to wipe them away.

“Hey, it’s okay, Jason, I’m right here.” Your movements caused him to look deeply into your eyes.

“I know you can take care of yourself. You could put Bruce in an early grave, but I can’t let you go out there without me.” He said, his voice breaking a few times.

“It’s okay Jay, I’ll stay with you.” “Are the others, okay?”

“They’re fine.” He said honestly, “Bruce is calling in Diana for extra help.” “I told him you had the flu.” A sheepish look came over him as you realized what he had just admitted to.

“I would laugh at that, but I’m still worried about you.” You said, smiling just a bit in humor, “Okay, I’ll stay with you, but I’ve still got to take care of these cuts.”

“You’re still in your suit.” He quipped suspiciously.

“Well yea, I mean I thought you were about to implode on yourself a second ago.” You laughed, a small light admitting from your body and making your uniform disintegrate into a pair of sweatpants and one of Jason’s old shirts. The uniform would be put back away in its case for tomorrow night, but you’d be sure not to touch it tonight unless it was necessary.

“Are you okay if I start again?” you asked.

“Yeah, you’re good.” He replied in almost a whisper.

You began cleaning back up the larger wound now that blood had ran down his torso. Intentionally being extra gentle, you were being sure that there was no way you were hurting Jason. It was quiet in the bathroom now, only the sound of you two breathing could be heard. A few moments of silence had passed before he spoke up again.

“Hey Y/N/N?” “What’s up?”

“Will you take your hair down? I need your hair.” He had been trying to run his fingers through the strands of hair but was being impaired by the little braids you had strung throughout the loose pieces.

You chuckled a bit before another little glow emitted from your hair and a small plopping noise sounded from the countertop as little clear bands dropped down to where they had been stacked together. Jason’s fingers immediately started running through the strands again, relaxing his breathing and slowing his heart rate. You started humming a new lullaby again, “The night has come, and she has brought darkness with her. Mommy went out, closed the shutters, sleep, sleep. Fall asleep.”

“All of your Russian lullabies are terrifying.” Jason said.

“Knocked me out like a light when I was little.” You replied laughing, “At least it’s not the one about Baba Yaga.”

“Yea, at least.” He chuckled.

After a few moments, Jason’s wounds were patched up and he was showered. You had already gotten into bed and was waiting for him when Jason came and plopped on top of you, holding you tightly to him and not letting you go.

“Thanks for staying.” He said softly.

“I’ll always stay with you Jay. Just tell me when there’s something wrong the next time.” You replied, running your fingers through his hair, “I was worried about you, love.”

“I’m sorry.” He assured, “I’ll tell you next time.”

“I love you Jaybird.”

“I love you”

#dc x reader #dc characters #dc comics #batfam x reader #batboys x reader #batfam #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader fluff #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #red hood x you #red hood fluff #red hood imagine #red hood x reader

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aealzx · 1 year

Photo

Better Genes pg 1-5 / 38

A short ROTTMNT comic based off of 2003 TMNT Good Genes

(Read right to left)

Note, this comic will contain in either imagery or text: illness, fever, injury, bruises, blood, IV, needles, syringes, drugs, sedatives, body aches, sprained ankle, mild mutation, cracked ribs, injured eye, tranquilizer gun, pharmacy, TV Medicine, TV Science

as well as

familial fluff, hurt/comfort, very minor drama/angst, personal adjustments to canon designs

Featured characters: Donnie, Mikey, Leo, Raph, April, Splinter, Casey

. . . . Pg 6-10 Pg 11-14 Pg 15-18 Pg 19-22 Pg 23-25

Pg 26-29

Written Add on Part 1

Pg 30-33 Pg 34-35 Pg 36-38

___________

Hey 8′D So the backstory for this is pretty much over in this post (contains spoilers). This’ll be a short comic, only 38 pages, ‘cause it was actually supposed to be shorter but my brain ran off on too many details |D

One thing I will mention though is that I almost completely skip the fight scene in this, so if you’re looking forward to that, my bad. I don’t want to draw a fight scene in a comic just yet, I’m still a noob at comics.

Also there’ll be no set update schedule. I’m a busy woman and also too much of a perfectionist XDD I also have a bad habit of working on the pages that are more interesting to me at the moment, even if they aren’t the next ones in order. But I’ll try to upload multiple pages at a time. I started this on Nov 1, 2022, and only have 14/38 pages “finished”, I am very slow, so be patient X’DDD

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #better genes #better genes comic #donnie #mikey #raph #leo #april #illness #injury #fever #body aches #sick donnie #medic leo

1K notes · View notes

jasntodds · 2 months

Text

Petrichor [20]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 10,185

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, some fluff, mentions of death, blood, canon violence, mention of drug addiction

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: Can you guys believe book 2 is finally done?? We're finally done with season 3!! lol Book 3 will be the last book and I will have some stuff posted for that soon!! I have a few chapters done already lol There's a longer author's note at the end!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Jason’s hands are on your cheeks with his lips pressed to yours. Your hands are gripping the ends of his jacket hoodie with all your might, tugging him as close to you as you possibly can as if the very force of your grip will keep him here forever. The teeth of the zippers dig into the palms of your hands and you can't offer a single thought as your mouth moves with Jason's and everything starts to turn sloppy and desperate.

Jason backs you up to the wall where he pins you against it. Teeth smack and clank as you both grip each other wherever your hands lead you as if everything in this moment will fix all of your broken pieces and tainted dreams. You give each other everything, every breath and movement and every piece of yourselves to each other. Jason cuts himself open and gives you everything in him, every part of him even the bad parts just makes you feel whole. He bleeds him dry without ever second guessing it just for you, just to make sure you are happy. And you pull the air out of your lungs and offer it to him in silver jars just to watch him smile. You give him the very oxygen you breathe as if it’ll save him from himself. You offer him the air you breathe in order to see him smile and know he is enough. You give each other everything you can as if this will be the last time you have this moment.

Jason wants to believe this is not the last time but he has never gotten to be so lucky. Not in this life or the previous one. His own certainty is that he will love you in every life after. You have ruined him for anyone who ever even dared to show up later because he is stained by you and he would never have it any other way. But, there is that piece of him that thinks this is it. This is all there will ever be. Something will happen and this will be it so he gives you his all as his mouth moves with yours and his right hand grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises.

Time happens. You know time doesn’t stop anyway. Days go by and then weeks, then months, and then years. Something always comes up and it’ll always be a tomorrow problem and then another tomorrow and another until the tomorrows are neverending. This might be it because you both have a habit of getting lost in time and there is never enough of it. Time will go by and maybe this will be it for you. So, you give him every part of you as you tug the hair at the nape of his neck.

Jason pulls away just enough to kiss your cheek and tenderly makes his way down your neck only to be met with the sturdy armor of your suit. Jason huffs against what skin is exposed before he moves back to your cheek, only for you to laugh softly.

“Safety first.” You mutter through breathy words.

Jason snorts as his head feels fuzzy. "Fuck off." He mutters right as both of his hands squeeze your hips as if they're the only thing keeping him planted on the planet.

Jason slides a hand to your back, trailing over the zipper, ready to tug it down just as your phone starts ringing. The two of you pull away, breaking for some air that isn't tangled between the two of you only to let out groans.

"Cockblock." Jason states as you tug your phone from your suit.

You let out a chortle, not looking up at Jason as your cheeks start to burn. "Who says you were getting that lucky?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you before he raises his brows. "Hey, a guy can hope." Jason states with sarcasm as you look up at him with softness clouding your eyes.

"Fucking cockblock." You roll your eyes earning a laugh from Jason. "Least that was fun." You nod your head as your smile turns into something sad and soft.

You answer the phone before Jason can respond. Dick mostly just explains the sort of plan they have for the moment. They aren't sure what they're going to do about the people in the streets but if Jason and Dick and Donna can be brought back, he wants to find a way to bring all of them back, too. But for now, Dick explains he's going to send you and Jason into the manor together to start taking out of the cops working with Crane in order to give Gar access to the alarm system. Once it's disabled, they'll take back the manor and take down Crane. You and Jason both think it sounds easy enough but sounding easy lately, doesn't mean it will be. But, you both have faith in it. It'll be the closest you've come to taking down Crane anyway. So, you set up a time and end the call.

After the call, you and Jason stand facing each other as you both continue to catch your breath. With the call, the weight and gravity of the situation fall back onto your shoulders. Avoiding it isn't going to make the weight any better. You both need to learn how to remove the bricks one by one. The adrenaline starts to dissipate between you as you smile softly at him and Jason's cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. Maybe that feels a little unfinished but...maybe that gives you both the opportunity to come back even if it's just one last time for old-time's sake and for now, you're okay with that.

"Well," Jason sucks in a breath finally pulling his hands away from her hips. "Wanna try and get some sleep for a few hours?" Jason offers.

"Yeah, I'm fucking exhausted. I, uh, I don't remember the last time I really...slept, actually." You let out a sheepish laugh.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed on the opposite side of the room. "I'll set an alarm." Jason smiles softly at you.

The two of you get into the bed just as you always have. You still say you'll never make him sleep on the floor and it's not like this is something new, even as friends. It doesn't matter. And Jason is happy with this. He's hoping maybe he'll actually get some much-needed sleep anyway. You always made him feel a little more at ease anyway. So, you lay down, your head on his chest and you try to get some sleep before you need to be at the manor.

By the time the next morning rolls around, you and Jason have gotten some sleep. It wasn't good sleep or very much. Some of it was just being a little worried for what today would bring and if Crane planned on setting off another bomb to kill more people. Some of it was worry for the other Titans. And then some of it was just stress. But, you both did get some sleep and Jason's alarm woke up you with a jolt.

A heaviness fills the air between you, knowing this will be it. This is your shot to take out Crane. This is your shot to take back the city. If this plan doesn't work, Crane will expect everyone always and you'll lose. You can't afford to lose today. But, this is what being a vigilante is about. It's risking everything for the greater good. So, the two of you get ready and head outside to Jason's bike.

Jason hands you the extra helmet before he mounts himself on the bike. You're chewing the inside of your cheek, your grip tight on the helmet. Jason can feel it, too. He doesn't want you anywhere near Crane. He could have killed you the last time you were face-to-face. He tried to kill you and that alone nearly sends Jason into a rage. Jason wouldn't put it past Crane to try again or try to get Jason to do it or make Jason watch. You can't die. He doesn't want you to get hurt at all, you've been hurt enough by Crane. It's not up to Jason though. This will never be up to him.

"You sure about this?" Jason asks you, mostly just checking in.

You nod your head softly. "Uh, yeah. Just..." You suck in a breath. "Fucking Crane, ya know?" You shake your head, looking to the ground as you lick your lips. "Ready for this shit to be over." You scoff as you loos back to him.

"You gonna kill him?" Jason asks.

"Did you want to?" You ask right back.

"He almost killed you so..." Jason tilts his head to the side, his voice almost telling you you should have known the answer.

"Dick's never gonna let us." You laugh softly before you pop the helmet on your head.

"He's not gonna stay in Gotham forever." Jason quips as he puts the Red Hood helmet on, making you laugh.

"Yeah, that's true." You take your seat right behind Jason. "Guess we'll just wait until the Titans leave then." You say sarcastically as you wrap your arms around his waist.

"Let's get this going then." Jason says before he revs the bike.

The drive to the manor is quiet, a lot quieter than any ride with you and Jason ever is. On most days, you’re talking through your comms, usually making some sort of inside joke and making some sarcastic jab at each other but today is not that. This is the first time you’re back in the manor together since Jason died. It will not feel normal. It will not feel safe and it won’t be safe. Crane and all of his men are there and this is not how it should be. This is not how you ever imagined it to be.

He was alive and you thought it would be warm and a relief to have him back home. Back at the manor. But, instead, it just feels like dread that’s consuming you because he didn't come with you. He isn't coming home with you. You're only going home together to beat Crane and that stings more than you'll ever tell him. But you have to do this. There is no choice. You are out of options when it comes to Crane. The National Guard has been sent in and Gotham City is under lockdown. Crane wants to take out every person in the city. If you don’t do it now, there may not be a Gotham tomorrow. It’s for the better of the city.

There is also the thought that this is the end between you. You’ll take out Crane today and then…that’ll be it. You’ll go your separate ways for a little bit because that’s what's for the best for both of you. But that doesn’t make the pill any easier to swallow.

As for Jason, he’s focused on the mission at hand. He wants to get in and get the hell out. That’s all this is. For the better of the city. But, he’s also trapped in his own head because he did trust Crane so there is some distant part of him that feels bad about it. It’s the right thing to do and he knows Crane doesn’t deserve sympathy for everything he’s done but something about it feels hard and Jason hates that feeling.

And he’s worried about what will happen when Bruce comes back. Eventually, Bruce will know Jason is alive. Once he finds out, he’ll know about Red Hood. Before, that was fine. It was spite. A fuck you to Bruce and the Bat and everything he stood for. But, Bruce killed the Joker for him. Bruce threw away all of his morals for him. That changes things. Jason is firm in his beliefs and what he wants to do after all of this. Nothing is going to change his mind but there is a part of him that is tired of letting everyone around him down. Bruce is the closest thing to family he’s had since his mom died. He never wants someone else to end up like him, go through the hell he’s been through, but he doesn’t want to give up on this either. Not if Bruce really did that. For him.

Then, there’s that thought of being alone. It’s for the best. It’s for the best for him and you. But, he remembers what it was like returning to Gotham without you while you were a Titan. How it felt like the longest month of his life and you weren’t even together yet. But, you were different people then. You aren’t the same stupid kids who were so infatuated with each other, you could hardly breathe. You are more calloused and damaged and bruised and broken. It’s for the best as you learn to live with your new scars. As you come into yourselves as individual people. It’s going to be hard but it’s for the best. Jason swears it’s for the best and the lump in his throat starts to close off his throat.

“How we doing this, Jay?” You ask once you dismount the bike on the outskirts of the property.

Jason takes off his own helmet. “We’re not going to get in with you just walking with me.” Jason starts, gesturing for you to give him your helmet. “Pretend to hold you prisoner, a peace offering to the psycho.” Jason puts both helmets on the handles, trying his best to be casual about it.

Jason knows that’s a big ask given your history. But, he’s not going to tie you up for real and he’s not going to let anyone else do it. You'll never even see Crane until everyone else gets into the Manor. He knows it's not something you'll take lightly. He just doesn't know any other way. It's not like he can sneak you in, that's why Gar needs to enter as a bat in the first place. Turning you into Crane gets you both in but if you aren't comfortable, Jason knows you'll have to figure something else out. This is just the best, easiest, and quickest way.

You nod your head once. “Right, yeah, okay.” You pull in a weary breath.

The idea of even pretending to be restrained makes you want to peel your skin off your bones. You swore never again. You would die trying to get out of it ever happened because it simply can't. If you get restrained again, what happens if you never get to be free? What if something worse happens? It's why you don't like to use your powers. But, this is Jason and even after everything, you have enough trust in him to know he's going to make sure you can free yourself. It makes you nervous and it scares the hell out of you but you also know there isn't another way. You put your trust in him.

“Is that alright?” Jason asks, seeing the hesitance in your face.

You nod quickly. “Yeah, yeah, of course. It’s our way in.”

Jason nods, his eyes darting over you quickly. "Let's get going then." Jason jerks his head in the direction of the manor.

"Think they'll really buy that?" You question as the two of you start your walk to the manor.

"Guess you'll have to channel your inner thespian." Jason offers you a cheeky grin, trying desperately to ease some of your anxiety.

"That's your job, theater boy." You roll your eyes as you laugh softly.

"Oh, well, we know I've got that covered." Jason chuckles, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You always said I was fucking dramatic." Jason lets out a light-hearted scoff, looking over to you.

"You are." You let out a laugh. "Most dramatic person I ever met." You scrunch your nose as you look back him.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs but the smile beams back at you.

The two of you keep up a steady walking pace through the grounds of the manor. Crane doesn't seem to have anyone watching this far out. Chaos is ensuing in the city which means Crane's eyes are probably there and not on the cameras for the grounds. So, your walk is overall pretty peaceful given your circumstances, something the both of you are thankful for.

Once the two of you start to get closer to the front of the manor, you stop behind a few of the trees to scope out the front. There are two guards standing right out front, fully armed and in riot gear. They don't seem to be paying too much attention but the front of the manor is open so you'll be seen immediately. That's the plan anyway, get in without any disturbance and take them all out at once just to get inside. If you make a scene out here, Crane could lockdown the manor before you ever get a chance inside.

"Okay, I'll just hold your hands behind your back. You act like you want to kill me and we're golden." Jason offers you a cocky smirk.

You nod your head with the roll of your eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the drill, thanks." You laugh softly but there's something off about it.

The lack of quip and how the laugh sounds hollow. The smile falls almost immediately as you look at his hands. You bite it back and clear your throat, standing in front of Jason with your hands behind your back. Jason's gloved hands hold your wrists soft enough you could barely move and slip right from his grip. He's mindful, keeping his grip above where the scars hit even though they're covered by your suit.

You can feel his grip still and it's like you're being suffocated. The scars on your wrists start to burn, resembling the burn of you tugging and pulling on the cuffs, desperate to get out. You can feel the skin cracking out in a burn and then a deep welt before it's covered in blood. It burns and it aches and it stings. Your stomach twists and turns with nausea. It's the right thing to do because it'll get you in there. You can help and not being able to do this makes you feel weak and useless. But, it's as if you're frozen in place.

"Are you sure?" Jason asks quietly from behind you. "We can try to just tell them I convinced you to switch with Nightwing being dead."

You look over your shoulder, meeting the concerned look written across Jason's features. They'd never believe Jason could get you to switch sides. It would out you and Jason immediately and the whole thing would go to shit. It's for the greater good of Gotham and you trust him.

"Yeah," You nod your head. "Just hope it works." You pull in a breath as you turn back around.

"If not," Jason pauses for just a second. "We'll go down swinging anyway." He says it casually and you can't tell if it's supposed to be reassuring, a joke, or an acceptance of your possible fate.

"Always thought that'd be our way out." You let out a scoff that's ended with a half laugh. "Let's just go before we're late."

The two of you come out from the trees and start your walk towards the driveway. It only takes a few seconds for you to be spotted. The guards point the gun directly at you and it burns Jason's bloodstream knowing they're mostly pointed at you. If one of them even slips or gets a little too trigger-happy, Jason will lose his entire mind. He doesn't exactly trust them. But, he bites it down because if he starts worrying and getting annoyed, you will do the same.

"Found her snooping around the trees." Jason states once the two of you get closer to the front steps, one of the cops meeting you on the driveway.

"Get fucked." You scoff.

"And you're turning her in?" The guard questions, not buying it.

"Told Crane, I'm all in for his plan. Just here to prove it." Jason says casually, hiding every piece of annoyance and anger he has towards this whole thing.

"And you let him capture you?" The guard narrows his eyes at you.

"Fuck you you fucking piece of shit." You bark back. "No, I didn't let him that would be fucking stupid."

"Where are your friends?" He questions.

Your annoyance is not fake. You hate this guy already and the questioning is ridiculous. Why would you tell him anything and why would Jason tell him if he switched sides?

"I'm not a fucking rat unlike Red Hood here." You narrow your eyes back at him. "They're gonna stop him though." You threaten. "The Titans will win."

The cop gives you a sinister laugh, a way to tell you the Titans don't stand a chance. You swear arrogance has only ever worked on Jason. Arrogance on everyone else seems to make them stupid you think.

"Come on." The cop scoffs, leading the two of you through the front door as the other cop joins you.

Jason's grip is loose against your wrists as the cop walks you inside. The cop trails behind you, keeping the gun on Jason, clearly not trusting him. Jason gets the idea Crane knows he's done. That's fine, really. You're inside and with every step, Jason is thinking of a way out of this if it goes south. He should be able to hear the movement of the gun being held tighter before a trigger is pulled. The fabric of his jacket will move and he can shoot first. Your clairvoyance should go off and you'll have a knife out in the same breath. If this guy takes it into his own hands, it'll get messy quick but you'll have a way out. Jason focuses on a backup plan as you're nudged into the kitchen.

"You're not gonna believe who we caught outside trying to get in." The cop states as he leads you into the kitchen where three other cops in riot gear are gathered.

"What in the actual fuck are you trying to pull here?" One of them asks, his eyes directly on Jason. "Crane is done with you."

"I saw what he did downtown. Let's just say I'd rather be in here when the next bomb goes off." Jason states. "Found her when I showed up and thought I'd show my loyalty to Crane by bringing her in."

"What the fuck makes you think he'll take you back?" The guard asks. "Even with her."

"Pretty sure he's getting tired of dealing with the second string." Jason scoffs.

"Dr. Crane?" The guard states after touching his own comm device in his ear. "Red Hood is here." He says after a few seconds. "And he brought Bluejay, says he captured her for you." He pauses for a few seconds. "Thank you, Doctor." He touches his earpiece again before turning to the guy behind him. "Take them down. I'm gonna go outside and see if we have any other visitors here." The cop says before he rams his shoulder into yours to walk past you and Jason, making Jason's grip tighten on your wrists as an instinct.

One of the cops walks behind the two of you and shoves Jason and in turn, shoves you, too. The two of you nearly trip over each other as you move closer to the middle of the kitchen, standing between the islands while the four cops surround you. There's a feeling creeping into the back of your head, spreading through to the front. It's not quite throbbing like it usually does but there's a subtle alarm going off. It feels more like just a gut feeling something isn't right in this kitchen and based on the second squeeze you get from Jason on your wrist, he knows it, too. All you have to do is wait for Gar to trigger the manor's alarm system.

Just then, as if it be on cue, the alarm starts blaring from above you. Everyone looks up and that's the cue for Jason and you to get this thing going. Jason drops your hands and in an instant, Jason takes his elbow, ramming into the face of the cop behind him while you spin around, throwing a kick at the one behind you.

The cop Jason is fighting immediately starts firing while Jason grabs his arms, spinning him around so the gunfire stays away from you. He yanks the gun away as he tosses the cop over the counter all while you fight the first cop, elbowing him unconscious before throwing a knife at the one about to shoot you. Jason keeps his gun aimed at the last man before hitting him with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

Jason and you exchange a look with heavy breaths once they're all either down or dead. There's a glint of a smile coming over Jason's face as he shrugs.

"Don't gloat." You state, Jason seeing the smile come to your eyes.

"I wasn't saying shit." Jason defends but there's almost a laugh that leaves his lips.

"Mhm, something about how you trained me well or something." Your eyes narrow but there's something soft over your expression.

"I did." Jason holds his head with pride before he lets out a breath. He misses patrolling with you, fighting side by side. He thinks he'll always miss it. "Come on. We gotta get to Gar before they find him."

The two of you quickly make your way through the kitchen and to the main staircase, leading to bedrooms. You follow behind Jason with two knives in hand, keeping an eye over your shoulders while Jason watches around the corners you reach. As you round another corner and keep up your steady pace, Gar pops out from the corner from the hall that continues to your bedrooms. Gar immediately takes a step back, fear falling over his face.

"Hey, Dick sent us, okay? I'm on your side." Jason rushes quickly.

"I told you, he's with us." You urge not liking the fear over his face or the way his arm is almost in position to fight.

You don't blame him and neither does Jason. He just got Dick killed the other night. This is an entirely fair reaction for him to have regardless on if Jason was trying to help or not. And then Gar's eyes widen just as the back of your head starts throbbing.

Jason and you turn at the same time, Jason firing two shots while you throw a knife. Both of you hit the one cop, sending him to the ground instantly. You and Jason look right at each other and just nod before you turn back to Gar.

"See?" Jason questions.

Gar isn't sure just how relieved he is but he is thankful. "Thanks." Gar nods, his voice still a little unsure.

"Set up the router." Jason states.

"We'll watch the hall." You finish as the two of you stand on either side of the hall, opposite each behind two of the large pillars.

Gar ducks behind the corner and starts communicating with Dick about Jason and you being there before he starts working. But, it's only a few seconds before two of the cops show up, jogging through the hall but they're met by Jason and you as you duck from behind your pillars. Jason takes one while you take the other, the two of you using your fists and elbows for nonlethal force, successfully knocking out the cops before you go back to your spots. Jason flashes you a smirk while you roll your eyes.

The two of you wait as Gar takes down the system while Dick is on his way inside. You look over to Jason, his back pressed against the pillar with his gun that he stole from one of the cops downstairs held against his chest. You think about how you're going to miss this part of it. Dick said you work well together, it's why he wanted you to team up for this. Part of it. And you do. You never have to speak to know exactly what the other one is going to do. You think that probably isn't too common and you're going to miss it. You'll miss him, even if it's only a week you don't talk.

It's only a few minutes before Gar finishes up and meets you and Jason in the hall. He looks more relieved now as the three of you stand in the hall and it almost feels like it once did.

"So, you're really with us?" Gar asks.

Jason nods. "Yeah, I'm done with this shit." Jason lets out an easy scoff. "Sorry for everything, man."

"It's okay. You were drugged and manipulated." Gar offers his understanding. "Thanks for the help." Gar nods before he looks to you. "Thank you."

"Yeah, don't mention it." You smile under your mask as you scrunch your nose until you hear fighting and gunfire from downstairs.

The three of you exchange panicked looks before you run down the hall and towards the staircase. You and Jason take one way while Gar takes the other so you have both entrances covered to the main living room, hearing that's where the gunfire is coming from. The three of you reach your entrances just in time to see Dick throw one of his weapons, hitting the barrel of the gun pointed at him which makes it backfire, killing the cop holding it. You, Jason, and Gar enter fully into the room, slightly concerned by the whole interaction and the amount of bodies littered over the floor but not even willing to question it. It was Dick's life or that cop's and he wasn't going to let Dick walk out of here alive.

Dick walks up to the camera and grins wickedly before he salutes it. Bringing Crane down is definitely bringing Dick a lot of joy. It's bringing a lot of the Titans a lot of joy to bring him down.

Dick starts a quick pace to the entrance to the Batcave. "Let's go." He says, looking towards Jason and you.

"No." Jason says quickly, making Gar and Dick stop their walk to the entrance while you look to Jason with confusion. Dick nods his head at Gar for him to keep going before he closes some of the distance between him and Jason. "Look, this is a Titan's job. He knows I turned on him and that's enough for me. You guys finish it."

Something about the way he says it, as a form of acceptance warms your heart. Jason Todd doesn't hold very many grudges. He is not a mean person and he is not a monster. He should walk into that Batcave and rip Crane's head right off of his shoulders for everything he's done but he doesn't. Jason recognizes he was part of this problem. Drug or not, it does not matter. This was his doing and the Titans deserve the right to take him down. Crane knowing Jason turned on him and Jason being allowed to help the Titans, that's enough revenge for him now. He knows you'll give him hell anyway, it's your hell to bring him if you want it that bad.

"You sure?" Dick asks, somewhere between surprised and understanding.

"And tell the others I'm sorry." Jason shakes his head. "For everything." His voice is soft and honest.

"Thank you, Jason." Dick states with a nod of his head.

Dick Grayson can hold a grudge. Sometimes, he can be bitter and angry, understandably so. He can hold a grudge and maybe he should sometimes. But, Dick Grayson is not a mean person. He is not unreasonable. He is understanding and he cares about the people he loves and protects. It was his job to protect Jason at some point and he failed. Maybe some of this is on him and he died. That was a missing piece he really needed to understand how they even got here. He can hold a grudge but one against Jason is not one he's willing to have. He is thankful and hopes once this is over, they can both move on from whatever bitter rivalry boiled between them.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Jason starts as he starts to move away from Dick and towards the exit. "I was never here." He finishes before he leaves the room, you looking back at him before looking to Dick.

"Go." Dick states. "Something tells me you'll find Crane your own way, anyway." Dick doesn't sound pleased but he almost, just almost, looks content.

You nod softly. "Tell him I'm coming for him." You state the smile reaching your eyes just as you hear rapid footsteps coming into the room. Your mouth falls open from behind your mask as your eyes widen and turn watery. "Tim!?"

"Hey!" Tim chimes with excitement.

"I thought you were dead!" You rush over to him and pull him into a hug.

"Oh, yeah, I kind of died." Tim answers. "I don't know. It was weird, Donna was there." Tim's voice is filled with excitement at the mention of Donna, something most people would probably find off-putting. But, not you, that's just Tim.

You pull away, looking between Tim and Dick before you just roll your eyes. "I...okay." You shake your head, deciding to ask more questions later. "I'm gonna go. Fill me in later though, very happy you're alive." You smile before you turn on your feet.

"I knew you were Bluejay." Tim chuckles with confidence.

You turn around and deadpan but Tim holds his confident smile. "Shut up." You let out an exasperated sigh before you turn around and follow where Jason left.

Jason has done everything he can do. Crane might have caused him pain but at the end of the day, it was Jason's trust in him that allowed Crane to cause everyone else so much pain and agony around him. Crane got control of the city because Jason trusted him. Bringing down Crane, that was never supposed to be Jason's job. That should be on the Titans, Jason knows he's just lucky to be walking away from it not only alive, but free.

He walks out of the manor and for the first time, he feels free. He is not obligated to come back. He's not obligated to offer anyone anything anymore. There is no obligation to be a hero or a villain. There is no obligation to be back by a certain time or an obligation to put food on a table. He is no longer obligated to take care of anyone or look out for anyone but himself. For the first time, Jason Todd is free to be whoever the fuck he wants to be without anyone else's opinion or input. That part is a bit terrifying but there is something cathartic about it as the cold Gotham air hits his cheeks. There is guilt and remorse and a heaviness he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to shake. There's the haunting ache in his bones but...he is free to live how he wants for the first time and that, is cathartic.

"Jay!" You call after him, stepping out of the manor.

Jason turns around, brows pulled together. "What're you doing? Thought you'd be in there with them to take down Crane."

"Dick's not gonna let me kill him." You let out a chortle. "And...Tim showed up anyway. It is Crane's fault he died." You nod.

"He died?" Jason questions loudly, his eyes shooting open.

He knew it was bad that night but he didn't realize Tim had died either. He was kind of with you, hoping he lived. It was easier to just hope it would work out. But of course, Crane just had to take out someone innocent. Jason hopes Tim is in the Batcave right now giving Crane absolute hell.

"Yeah," You say quietly. "Um, he seemed okay for the few seconds I saw him. Seemed happy to be here." You laugh softly, looking to your feet before looking back to Jason. "I, um," Your brows pull together as you suck in a breath. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, yeah, all good." Jason nods his head, earning an eyebrow raise from you. You could always see through him like he were cellophane. "I'm not Robin anymore." Jason confesses, looking around the manor before his eyes come back to you.

"You're not." You nod your head, almost dreading where this is going.

He never needed Robin. He could be just as great as Red Hood or as someone else or just Jason Todd. You aren't sure that's where this is going but you do know what Robin meant to him. You can only hope he will see his worth one day and he'll be able to move on from it with fondness.

"Bruce isn't here." Jason lets out a sigh.

"Nope." You shake your head once, now wondering where Jason could be going with this.

"I can be...whoever I want." Jason swallows thickly before looking to the ground.

You pull your mask off, closing some of the distance between you as a tender smile comes over your lips. "You deserve it, Jay."

Jason could always be whoever he wanted but he always felt like he needed permission. People always expected him to be something specific. If he didn't meet what they wanted, he thought they'd leave. Maybe if he could be what they expected, he wouldn't be too much or too little. He could be just enough and there would be no transaction in being loved. But, it never did work out that way. It led him here.

He isn't sure he deserves to be who he wants but he does want to try. He wants to try and be whoever he can be. Maybe that's worse but at least he'll be him. He will no longer be a torn painting of something everything thought he was. He will no longer put on a facade to be enough. That's easier said than done but he thinks maybe, just maybe, he can do it in time. He'll destroy every part of himself that has been damaged by broken expectations and be the person he actually wants to be. There will be a home for all of his pieces one day.

"Thanks." Jason nods his head. "So do you, ya know."

"Yeah," You scoff softly.

You aren't so sure you do after everything that's happened. On the one hand, you remained on Jason's side but...you did betray him in a way you aren't so sure you can forgive. On the other hand, you owed some more loyalty to the Titans than you did give them. A part of you thought you would turn on them if it came to it and that is not the person you want to be. But, you aren't sure you're deserving of better anymore. It's a lot to be forgiven for and a lot to forgive yourself for. And you just look at Jason who looks like he might have a little more hope left somewhere in his cracked ribs so maybe you can spare some, too.

"Where ya gonna go then?" You ask with a tender voice, as if stalling so you don't have to say goodbye.

"Safehouse." Jason answers. "One I've been staying at." He explains further. "You?"

"Probably call Molly, she'll be pissed." You laugh softly. "I, uh, I've avoided her, ya know? Just to keep her at a distance after Tim, ya know? But, she'll probably let stay."

Jason's relieved you'll have a place to stay. The whole space thing is the point, but if it came to it, he'd never let you live on the streets again. He has more than one statehouse. Molly would never tell you no though. And he hopes you will be a little more careful living with Molly. You wouldn't want to put Molly in danger and have Molly constantly see you with some sort of injury.

"What's next then?" Jason asks as he takes a single step forward, knowing you can only stall for so long.

"Keep this up, I guess." You laugh softly. "I don't know. Come up with a plan. You?"

"Yeah." Jason chuckles softly. "Think I'm gonna keep doing this, work from the top and try to control it. Don't know how much Bruce is gonna like it." A devilish grin puls at Jason's lips.

"He'll probably just be happy to have you alive." You answer honestly.

"Yeah..." Jason's voice goes quiet, not convinced. "You should, uh, you should go back in there though." Jason swallows a lump forming in his throat.

The air feels heavy and thick, stale and bitter. It's like it doesn't want to flow into your lungs with the request. Stalling is just making it harder, you can see it in the way his eyes reflect and the very hint of the tip of his nose turning red. It's not from the cold.

"This is really it, huh?" Your voice quivers with the question.

Jason nods sadly. "Yeah..." His voice is quiet and filled with guilt. Jason almost backtracks but that's not the right thing to do. So, instead, he stays honest. "Gonna miss you."

"Gonna miss you, too." You say quietly. "Just, uh, we'll be in the same city so we just...meet again later." You nod softly, almost trying to convince yourself more than Jason.

Jason nods back quickly. "Yeah, exactly. And we have Molly anyway, she'll never keep us apart." Jason laughs softly.

"You're right." You laugh back. "Be careful, Jay." You close more of the distance between you, offering your hand to him.

It is bitter. It is hard and it is sad. You both might convince yourselves it's for the best but that doesn't make this any less painful. You trust each other more than anyone in the world and you have given each other every piece of yourselves. To see the other one go in another direction feels like you're losing a piece of your own hearts. But this is something you have to do, for yourselves and each other.

"Do you want to leave this on a handshake?" Jason quips back, not wanting to leave this so sad. That was never you anyway.

"No." You laugh as you look down to your open hand before you drop it.

Leaving it on a handshake feels permanent and that is not what either of you want. Maybe time will pass and it'll be hard to come together. But maybe in that time, you'll eventually find yourselves clawing your way back to each other. You both are so positive your hearts will only ever beat for each other as if they are beacons home. You both swear this cannot be the end of you so a handshake won't work.

Jason closes the rest of the distance between you, his hands coming up to your cheeks before his lips press against yours. It's different than it was at the safehouse. It's not heated or desperate. It's not as if you both are chasing something you'll never catch up to. It is tender and soft, deep and passionate. Your hands go to his sides while Jason's thumbs rub over your cheeks. You both take the time to just savor this for all that is worth. It has to be worth something. It just has to.

Jason pulls away first, his forehead coming to yours and he doesn't dare to open his eyes, knowing the second he does, he has to leave. Jason will have to walk away from the one person who showed what unconditional love really is. He'll have to walk away so he savors it for all that he can. You sniffle against him, keeping your eyes closed and Jason knows it's time.

He pulls away just enough, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his hands trail down your neck, to your arms, and then to your hips. Before he can say another word, you pull him for a hug and his arms entirely engulf you. You think you'll never feel this warm again but you hope he'll be happy. You only hope he'll be okay. Jason Todd deserves to be happy no matter what the cost. You press a kiss to his cheek and it's you that pulls away first because you think if Jason does it, he'll always question if it were the right decision. You do it so he doesn't have to.

His eyes are red and watery but there's a firmness, a certainty, over his features. And then he nods.

"I love you." Jason says it first this time and it nearly sends you into a fit of broken sobs.

"I love you, too." You back away from him and think you might get hypothermia in seconds. "See you later, yeah?" You ask.

"'Course, can't get rid of me that easy, babe." Jason tries to lighten it but he's missing the same snark he should have. You offer a soft smile before Jason turns to walk away, only to turn around again. "Keep the necklace, by the way." Jason forces one of his cheeky smirks onto his lips. "Still always come to find you if you need me to." The smirk falls into something sweet and soft.

"You can always come find me." You nod back but this time, you manage a smile. "You and me." You shrug softly.

"You and me." Jason offers you one reassuring nod as his heart feels like it's just fallen out of his ribcage and then he turns around and makes his way down the driveway.

The next two days leave everyone starting to clean up the mess that was left in the wake of Crane's reign of Gotham. The Titans and you have taken over the manor again, getting everything clean and back to how it was before Crane took over. Jason has been at his safehouse, getting everything he needs to make it feel more like a home rather than a rundown and empty building. But after two days, the Titans are ready to leave which leaves Dick to say goodbye to Bruce. That's when Jason walks in, figuring it's his turn to have a conversation with him now that he's finally back.

Jason finds himself going back to his old room while Dick and Bruce finish up their talk. The hubcaps he stole from the Batmobile lay on his old dresser and he finds himself thinking about it. That night. He remembers the day Bruce told him about Robin and offered him the position if he were willing to train for it. It was hard and it sucked but the day Bruce gave him that suit, Jason swore it was the greatest day of his life. He remembers how happy he was as if he had finally found his purpose in this world. Not one single part of him thought he would be here today. He never thought he would have died and betrayed the people he loved. He never thought things would get here with Bruce. It was so happy and fulfilling and now it's...tarnished. Broken and shattered. He wonders what his old self would think of him now.

Bruce walks in a few minutes later, gaining Jason's attention.

"Coming here wasn't my idea." Jason immediately defends himself as he turns around to face Bruce, hoping Bruce believes him.

There's a long pause as Bruce puts his hands in his pockets. "Can you forgive me?" Bruce asks.

It is agonizing with Bruce asking. It's something Jason didn't expect, not from Bruce. A part of him, wants to ask for what? Jason can see some of the wrong Bruce did that did not help him. Some of those things did contribute to him dying and working with Crane. But, the way Jason sees it, Bruce isn't the one who needs forgiving.

Jason leans against the dressing, stuffing his own hands in his pocket before he nods softly. "But you can't forgive me." Jason shakes his head.

Bruce shakes his head back, looking to the ground. "There was a time when that would have been true, Jason, but..." Bruce shakes his head as he pauses before he looks back to Jason. "We've all grown and crossed lines, starting with me."

Bruce crossed the one line he swore he would never cross and Jason crossed it, too. He does not want to lose his son over this whole thing. Bruce knows he has a lot to make up for, thinking maybe he should have listened to what Dick was trying to explain to him since leaving. It has to start somewhere and Bruce is willing to start here. He forgives Jason for everything, no question or doubt in his mind.

"I did things I can't come back from." Jason shakes his head.

Jason knows Bruce's line. Bruce killed the fucking Joker which basically every single person in Gotham agrees was the right decision. Jason did not kill the Joker. It's different. Jason turned on Dick, Bruce's other son. This whole thing is different than what Bruce did. Jason can't erase any of it no matter how badly he wants to. The drug and the killing of his friend, the betrayal and injuries he's caused are things he can't come back from. He did horrible and unforgivable things. He can't go back and change it. He needs to just find a way to live with them now.

"Did you want to come back?" Bruce asks.

Jason looks around his room before pushing off of the dresser. "Here?" He questions as he closes some of the distance between him and Bruce, leaving a few feet between them. "No." Jason's voice is honest and soft. Jason looks to the ground. "That life is over." He says before looking back to Bruce.

Bruce lets out a sigh of understanding. "What life is next?"

"I don't know." Jason answers honestly.

"The fear that you felt, I refused to see it because it's something that you and I share." Bruce explains quietly as he gestures softly between the two of them. "It held its weight over us. But fear is a bad mentor. I wish I had had the strength to help you face yours." Bruce is quiet but honest and this is the deepest conversation they've ever had.

Jason has held resentment for Bruce but...this conversation is changing that, it's just making him feel more guilty over it. Bruce doesn't admit that he's wrong often. Part of that is Bruce is very rarely ever wrong anyway but even then, it's hard for him to admit fault. It means a lot to Jason that Bruce is taking some of the accountability for it even if Jason doesn't blame him. Dick and you were right, Bruce actually does care.

Jason looks to the ground. "When you killed the Joker, did you do that for me?" Jason asks as he looks back to Bruce.

Bruce pauses for a few seconds before he nods his head. "Yes." He answers simply. "I did."

It's all Jason needed to hear. He doesn't know what this means for them but...he'll never be able to express what it means to him for Bruce to have actually done that. For him. Before coming here, he wasn't sure what he wanted from the conversation or what to expect but it wasn't this. It's better. Jason has confirmation that he is important to Bruce, not as Robin but as Jason Todd.

"Thank you." Jason states, his words firm but tender before he walks past Bruce and leaves the room, leaving the manor.

You and the rest of the Titans are at the hangar, waiting for Dick. You might not be going with, but you're here to say goodbye and Tim is here. Tim has since told you about the whole bridge dream thing where he met Donna and Hank. Hank sacrificed himself so him and Donna could come back. It all sounded completely insane but you aren't going to argue with Tim over that. You're just happy to have them both back and alive.

"He said ten o'clock. He did say ten o'clock, right?" Kory asks, pacing near Conner.

"He said ten." Conner confirms, holding the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

"He'll get here...eventually." Rachel laughs softly. "He always does." Rachel finishes just as they all hear honking and turn to see an RV pulling into the lane.

"Hey, did someone order a bus?" Gar questions.

The bus pulls right open to the opening of the hangar where Dick and Donna are seated in their seats. You stifle a laugh and right about now, you're pretty glad you're not going with them. Sitting in an RV with the Titans for over three days with no way to escape, does not sound fun. Though, you think they'll have a great time.

Donna and Dick get out of the bus, Dick looking very pleased with himself as he faces the rest of the Titans.

"Hey, Dick, uh, what is that?" Rachel questions as her arms are crossed over her chest.

"That's an RV." Dick states, pointing a finger back at the door with genuine happiness in his voice. "I figured it would be way more fun than taking Bruce's jet."

Everyone turns to look at the joy that could have been. You finally break, letting out a quick laugh as you shake your head. You can confirm the jet is way more fun and it's faster. But you aren't going to tell Kory that.

"Why would that be more fun?" Kory asks as if she's going to pass out.

"Roadtrip!" Gar says quickly before he turns to you. "I'm gonna..." Gar points to the RV with a large smile.

"Have fun." You laugh softly before you hug quickly. "Lemme know how Metropolis is! And fill be in on all things Superman, he's actually cool." You beam as Gar laughs and promises to let you know everything before he darts over to the RV and rushes right inside.

"Right because who would want to fly in the batjet?" Rachel quips as she makes her way to the RV.

"Exactly." Dick states, picking up some of the bags to load them up.

You stand back, watching Rachel and Gar go onto the bus. Donna and Tim are saying their goodbyes to Conner just as Blackfire drives up to the hangar, leaving Kory to say her goodbye. Dick starts loading bags into the storage compartments of the RV so you pick up one Gar left behind and bring it over.

"Not mine." You state quickly as Dick takes it from you.

"Are you sure want to stay here? Plenty of room." Dick offers kindly.

You look to the giant RV and then back to Dick. "Yeah...I think all of Gotham can see that." You quip back before letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure." You nod with confidence, sure of your decision. "Thanks, though."

"Jason?" Dick asks, mostly just to check this isn't about him though this time if it were, he'd entirely understand.

You shake your head. "No. We, uh, we are not speaking. We are giving each other space after everything that's happened." You answer simply. "It's home, like I said. And now I have Molly who will not shut up about me needing eyes in the sky like a Ned Leeds or Ganke." You mutter earning a questionable look from Dick. "Spider-Man thing, ask Gar." You laugh. "I have her and uh, yeah. I don't know. I just want to stay here and do my own thing." You shrug as a soft smile tugs at your lips.

"Good." Dick nods with a proud smile. "But if you change your mind or you ever need anything, we're a phone call away." Dick offers you a smile, something you don't know if you'll ever get used to. You're so used to fighting with him.

"Of course." You laugh. "I plan to harass you still." You beam up at him.

"Thanks." Dick deadpans with sarcasm.

"Thanks again though for..." You gesture broadly. "And not killing Jason. Seriously, Dick, I owe you a lot for the last couple of weeks for shit I did and the hell I gave you. So, thank you. I will deny it, but you are very good at this shit. And I'm gonna miss all of you a lot."

"Thank you." Dick says with honesty. "We'll all miss you, too." Dick nods down at her.

It's sad for him to say goodbye but he's very proud. A little worried because it's you but he's proud. Looking back at your first day at the tower to now, he's impressed and happy with how far you've come. It might have gotten messy but you never wavered. Jason died and that was horrible for you and it changed things. Dick saw that same thing in himself when his parents died. Then, you turn around and refuse to compromise your own morals even if that means making things harder on yourself. And you refuse to quit even when maybe you should. He thinks you'll do just fine no matter where you are.

You smile softly before closing the distance between you and hugging Dick softly. Once you let go, you head back over to your place inside the hangar with Tim and Donna. The three of you watch as the Titans pile into the RV, Tim looking defeated and saddened. Tim offers them a sad wave.

"For what it's worth," Donna says softly as she rubs Tim's back. "I think you would have made a pretty decent Robin."

"You would have." You add in, feeling bad for him.

It's as if he's watching all his hopes and dreams about to drive away. But then, Dick looks back at all of you, tossing his backpack onto his back.

"You coming?" Dick asks, his eyes right on Tim.

Tim's eyes nearly shoot out of his head as a smile splits his face. "Are you serious?" Tim asks.

"The question is: are you?" Dick asks back. "I mean you got some nice moves but you're gonna need proper training...if you're up for it."

Tim looks between the three of you with a smile that will likely be plastered across his face for the rest of his life.

"Go." You encourage him. As much as you don't want to see another friend join the whole vigilante thing, it's something Tim really wants and you do think he'll be a great Robin. He deserves the chance and it is a little funny to you that Dick is still plucking people off the street to join the Titans. Like father like son. "I'll look after your parents." You assure him before Tim is quick to skip over to the RV and dart inside before Dick can change his mind.

The three of you watch them finish getting onto the RV and unlike when you left San Francisco, this feels different. It felt...sadder last time like maybe it wasn't time for you to go. It wasn't time for you to leave the new family you had been brought into. You felt hopeful but sad where this time, there is still sadness but it's filled with hope. It is up to you to determine the life you want to live. It's up to you if you want to go back to the Titans and if not, that's okay because they're your family. It's up to you if you want to be Bluejay. You don't have to live with Bruce or Jason. You can just...be you. In Gotham, just as you were before. You'll have her best friend at your side and if you're lucky, maybe one day you'll have Jason, too. But, until then, you just get to exist with hope-filled hands.

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A/n: I can't believe I finally finished book 2!! I was really pushing at the end there lmao I love season 3 but it took so much out of me lol So, thank you to all of you who kept reading and big thank you to anyone who's commented and/or reblogged!! I SWEAR comments have always meant so much to me and make me want to finish lol

So with that said, book 3 will be the last book and I don't think it will be as long as 1 and 2?? But I am really excited for it!! I have a lot planned and season 4 episode 11 is canon so you'll have that to look forward to!! I've got 3 chapters already done. I'll have more info on it later with a posting date!! It won't be long between this chapter and book 3, promise!! Thank you guys so much!! 😭😭😭

Tag List: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmesss // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @urmomsgayforme5 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman// @killxz // @lovefks // @laurelthesimp // @strawberryforks // @mxtokko // @kolpvii

@logangarfield

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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pippytmi · 1 year

Note

For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!

“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”

There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”

Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.

“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”

“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”

And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”

“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”

“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”

Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”

“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”

“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”

“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”

A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?”

“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”

“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”

Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”

“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”

Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.

Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”

“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.

“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”

Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”

The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”

“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”

“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”

It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”

“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”

“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”

“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.

“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”

But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.

“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”

“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”

“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.

Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.

Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”

“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”

“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”

For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”

“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”

Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”

“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”

“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”

Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”

“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,

“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”

Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”

“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.

“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”

“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”

“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”

Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”

“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”

“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”

“Your favorite idiot?”

“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.

Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”

“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.

“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”

There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.

“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”

It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”

“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”

“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”

That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”

“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”

Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint.

“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”

“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”

“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”

“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.

#prompt was: 'aw that sounded a lot like you like me / im just a good actor'#i rewrote this a million times and finally settled on a childhood friends + celebrity au :)#supercorp #supergirl #i need a fic tag #i miss these two dramatic ''besties'' who just wanna kiss each other on the mouth #lyssa #as always ty for the prompt !! <3

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johnslittlespoon · 8 days

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okay listen feral bikerider gale/past catching up to him/etc etc etc anon here and can I just say. thank you. I’m not overly interested in the actual violence or gang-shit or whatever. when I first read about the bikerider au all I could think about was sons of anarchy (idk if you’ve watched it, but I watched three seasons with my dad and it’s all just. gang conflict after gang conflict after gang conflict with some romance sprinkled on top and that’s not. really my thing) and I was not into it. at all. then your yapping (affectionate) converted me. hearing that it won’t be all weapon smuggling and, idk, drugs or smth is actually so reassuring lol

and!!! obviously it’s your fic/au, I’m definitely not here to try to influence you in any way whatsoever!!! I’m super excited to read it no matter what because your writing is just. lovely. I check in pretty much every morning like I’m reading the papers lmao

doing something semi-stupid in your past feels like kind of on brand for everyone, even though it might not be illegal for most. and maybe it wasn’t illegal for Gale, either, bro I am not a very good writer, I’ll leave the plotting to someone else.

but I’ll always love the idea of Gale being a little feral. or a lot feral. like John getting hurt in a bikerider au tickles my brain the same way John punching a German guard in canon centric fics does. Nevermind the guard, I just need the fallout. the angsty fallout.

John and Gale coming back home, and Gale sitting him down in the bathroom to very, very carefully patch him up (and, listen, the other guys probably just roughed him up a little. he probably got away with minor bruises and some scrapes), and Gale being insanely worried that he has scared John. John on the other hand is worried for Gale, because what if it happens again? What if the police finds out? John being worried that he somehow messed up.

and, don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t mind reading feral gale beating the shit out of people. It’s just not something I want to read a full fic of.

finally, because I just need to add this, too: Gale’s knuckles being split and bleeding and John so very carefully cleaning them up, pressing gentle kisses to the cuts when he has to scrape the dried blood up to get it properly clean. Gale not being sure what he did to deserve John, being so sweet and gentle and caring.

okay, over and out 🫡 sorry for not being that clear in the other ask, I blame. idk, sleep deprivation. and sorry for making this so long, idk what I’m on about half the time and my meds are doing shit to my brain. I love your blog and your writing just. makes my fucking days. I’d wait forever for the next chapter of dog coded Bucky ❤️

YIPPIEE more leaving!bikeriders au >:) hii i meant to get back to this SO long ago, feels like good timing now with the bikeriders theatre day approaching! i'm assuming you're the anon from this post <3

i have THOUGHTS. aka this got lengthy oops, shocker. a bit of plotting and then like 2k words of drabble below the cut lmfaoo

the proper drabble will be further down, but first of all, very big agree!! and relieved i'm not the only one who feels this way omg. i haven't watched SOA for this reason specifically– i just don't have much interest in the conflict/violence–heavy plot stuff (which is ironic considering i'm excited for the bikeriders movie, but i think it's pretty clear that's because of the lovely cast lol since i don't care for bikes/cars in the slightest oops). HONOURED that my yapping converted you tho LOL i swear if something is character focussed, it can make 99% of topics at least somewhat appealing!

and please don't worry omg i don't feel influenced/pressured etc, i loveee bouncing ideas and brainrot back and forth for my aus, it's sm fun and i love trying to incorporate things other people like/suggest when i can!! <3 but omg i will weep thank you so much wtf?? :'))

for sure; even the most stoic/'put together' characters surely have done some not very bright things in their lives. i'm toying with a couple backstories for gale to establish what might catch up to him or cause conflict, but i'm gonna wait to decide until i see the movie because i have a feeling i'll get some good inspo from benny's story!

honestly it's the part i'll have to put the most effort into really thinking out in terms of plot to make it flow naturally, because all the relationship focussed things kinda write themselves as i brainrot. but i'm 99% sure i'm gonna write the fic from john's pov because it'll keep a lot of gale a mystery to the readers as well, and therefore save me from having to flesh out certain things until necessary lmfaoo

and yeah!! it's not always the events themselves that hit the hardest– it's the fact that the character could be feral enough for them to happen in the first place, and it's the outcome/fallout that's most fun to write/read (to me).

feral gale is so fun to explore in general because of how different it is to most of what we're shown of him in mota, so it's like a challenge to keep him feeling in character while also picking out the little parts of him that could be pushed to be that way. and of course the classic whump of the one person gale cares about and tries so hard to protect getting hurt because of him? endless angst possibilities.

i dig what you said, about john 'just' being roughed up a little, because i think with whatever backstory i end up forming, it's not like the 'bad guys' are gonna be some mastermind criminals extorting gale for something life or death lol. it's probably gonna be a bunch of rough and tumble biker men with some long lasting beef between their clubs, hitting gale where they know it'll hurt the worst: a loved one.

i bet you anything (depending on how plotting goes LOL) that they don't actually even intend to mess john up to the extent they do; i bet john runs his mouth and makes some sorta escape attempt because as terrified as he is, all he can think about is how gale's gonna obviously track him down and he's more worried about what the guys are planning to do to gale when he shows up. in his naive mind, if he can get out and get to a phone or something, he can stop everything.

ofc the escape attempt is futile because it's one gangly college kid vs a couple of grown ass men, and john gets banged up in the process, seeing as being tackled to the ground with your wrists bound behind your back doesn't leave you with anything to protect your face from concrete with, and maybe then he gets a solid fist to the face to scare him out of pulling anymore shit (it sure works).

and just the act of taking john/putting him danger alone would have gale ready to wring these men out by their necks, but when he shows up and sees his baby bleeding? and he can't tell how bad he's hurt, from where he's lurking around the corner scoping out the situation? he'd see red and be pretty dang close to saying fuck it and going in there without a plan, but the fear of john getting hurt in the process would stop him, and he doesn't feel like going down for murder.

somehow he picks off the guys one by one with a generous amount of flying fists and y'know, maybe a bit of knife–work if necessary, idk, future plotting lol, and tells them they're good as dead if they pull anything like this again. that the club will be keeping an eye out for them, that they're a buncha cowards, and they can come talk to him face to face like men, next time. you get it.

and then finally, obligatory wound care ofc <3 easily top three tropes ever ugh. gale gets john the fuck out of there and to the safety of his truck, methodical and vigilant, and only then does his guarded expression drop, and his hands are shaking just as hard as john's are when he cups john's face in his hands to look him over. john gives him a shell–shocked "'m fine, gale" and hates how guilty gale looks, because there's not even the tiniest part of john that blames gale for any of it; john knew what he was getting into (to an extent) with gale.

but regardless, gale's shaken up, terrified by how much worse things could've gone and how much danger john could've been in, but also terrified of how deeply he feels for john; probably some backstory there about gale seeing someone he loved get hurt, or almost get hurt, swearing he'd never bring someone into his life again because of it, etc, and then in waltzes stubborn, loud–mouthed john egan.

but selfishly (or what he feels is selfish), gale's also terrified that this might be the final nail in the coffin for john. he knows he's not the easiest to be with (even though john thinks the exact same thing about himself lol silly boys) and he knows john's more patient than he deserves, and could find someone his own age with a normal life in a heartbeat with his sweet disposition and charming pretty boy looks. and he knows john's well within his rights to walk away from their relationship now, to be scared of the future, to decide it's too much, and part of gale would be relieved to not have to worry, even if he'd miss john like he's lost half of himself.

it's real quiet when they're back home and john's sitting on the bathroom counter, gale between his legs, patching up his face so so gently, as if each brush of a cotton swab is an apology. both of them have lots to say but neither know how to say it; john hates knowing gale's probably shouldering all the blame and he doesn't know how to reassure him in a way that'll get through to him, but he can't handle the silence. probably makes a weak joke about how "y'shoulda seen the other guy" and doesn't even get a smile out of gale.

ends up wrapping his legs around gale's hips to pull him closer but just gets a huffed out, frustrated "john" as gale swats his ankles away, and it's not that john's trying to make light of what happened, he just doesn't know how to talk about something like that, regardless of how good he and gale have gotten at communicating.

john probably gets a bit frustrated, because gale’s already so protective over him as is, which he likes, but now gale’s treating him like glass, like he’s scared to hurt him further just by touching him, and john does not like that. it feels like progress undone, like he's back at the beginning of their relationship when gale wouldn't let him in or open up to him or trust that he was capable of making his own decisions.

so when gale's done bandaging him up with practiced, meticulous hands, john doesn't give gale time to react, just slides off the counter and snatches the little first aid kit from his hands and says "okay, your turn." and it's obvious gale wants to protest, but john catches him so off guard that he stunned into silence, lets john guide him until he's leaning against the counter.

john's hands still tremble when he takes gale's hands in his, and he tries to steady them because he doesn't want gale to see how freaked out he is, but he diligently cleans away the blood around his knuckles, feeling gale's eyes on him the whole time but not looking away from his task, scared he'll shatter the moment if he does.

if he were to look up though, he'd see gale's watching him in complete awe, struck by the fiercest wave of adoration, drawing a blank while he tries to search for what he could've possibly done in this life or another to have someone like john come (crashing, stumbling, tornado–ing) into his life.

and if we wanna make it extra yowch–y and sappy and feelings heavy: as john's brushing his lips over the cuts, dusting featherlight kisses across his knuckles, john's throat goes tight and he feels his own overwhelming rush of emotions and his heart thumps and he blurts out: "i love you."

it's the first time one of them says it. and it’s a disguised i love you even so. i love you despite. i love you anyway. i love you because. months worth of reassurances wrapped into three words, and even with what john's just gone through, he's still scared when it slips out, looks up at gale with wide, searching eyes, trying to gauge whether he's overstepped or said the wrong thing.

gale's just trying to catch his breath, feeling like the wind's been knocked out of him by the admission. half of him wants to shake his head, gently push john's hands away, tell him "no you don't, hun." a tiny part of him wants to be cruel about it, to laugh the honesty off and ensure john will walk out that door far, far away from the mess that gale is, and not turn back, safe from harm.

but the other half of him, the half that holds his heart, evidently, has him cupping john's open, sincere face in his hands, looking down into bright, fearful, hopeful blue eyes, and murmuring "i love you more."

and john blushes as hard as he did the first time they'd kissed, as hard as he did the first time he was laid out in gale's bed, as if he and gale haven't said a million things much more fluster–inducing since they met. gets all shy, pouts, looks down and mumbles "that's not fair," and that finally gets the first smile out of gale all day, maybe even a breath of a laugh.

they love each other your honour </333

this got way out of hand but what else is newwww i'm so weak for these two. so so weak. i keep saying it but MAN i'm so excited to write this fic this summer omg :')

and DON'T BE SORRY!! it's so chill omg, you were perfectly clear (but i'm glad you elaborated and gave me an excuse to yap about them some more hehehe) and never apologize for long messages, i loveee reading the brainrot and hearing ur thoughts and getting to brainrot back. and thank you AGAIN sobs 😭💗 that makes MY days and ur way too kind fml. i hope the wait hasn't been too long LOL on the chapters AND a response to this ask!! tysm again mwah

#leaving bikeriders au #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon writes #cbf to proofread i'm sleeby soz #but yk me any excuse to write a mf essay's worth of drabble for my aus apparently

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sweaterkittensahoy · 4 months

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Hello!

Just saw your post about prompts… 👀

If you’re interested, I’ve been dying for a very particular Buck/Bucky fic, where, during the interrogation scene, the officer has Gale brought in to try and get answers out of Buck ✨

Im a sucker for the extreme angsty stuff, but other than that, I’ll leave the prompt broad and up to your interpretation!

Thank you! ♥️

(This went more "two Steve McQueens fight a couple nazis" and less "oh god why must I watch you be hurt" but I hope you enjoy! Personally, I think Buck's likely the shithouse crazy one of them when it comes down to it, and Bucky just tags along when it happens.)

[cw: blood mention]

After several minutes of going back and forth, the interrogator questioning and Bucky replying over and over with his name, rank, and serial number, the interrogator pauses, then says, "Well, let us try something else."

Bucky expects the man to stand up and threaten him. Instead, he pushes a button on his desk. There's a buzzing outside the office.

Bucky expects guards and guns, maybe a fight. He keeps his seat even as the door opens, ready to spring up if needed but trying to hold himself in check.

There's two sets of footsteps, and then Bucky looks to his left where they stop.

It's a guard, all right. And next to him, still in his uniform, is Buck. He's bruised and busted, though not as badly as Bucky. He's standing at ease, like he's not shocked to see Bucky.

But Buck looks not shocked to people who don't know him a lot of the time. Bucky, though, he can read that face like his favorite book. And Buck's face is stoic, but there's mayhem in his eyes.

"John Egan," Buck says, and Bucky leans forward, ready to go, "What took you so long?"

"Well, I had to come back from London, you know," Bucky replies. "Told you you should have come with."

"Maybe next time I will," Buck says. He licks the corner of his mouth where there's a spot of blood. He looks at the interrogator. "I suppose I'm here for a reason."

The interrogator smiles thinly. He rests on his desk and waves at the guard, who takes two steps back.

Stupid, Bucky thinks. Absolutely and fantastically stupid.

"Major Egan is not being forthcoming," the interrogator says. "And you have also not been forthcoming, Major Cleven."

"Attaboy," Bucky says in his most obnoxious drawl. It makes the interrogator glare at him. Perfect.

"If you think showing me Egan's alive is going to be make me cooperate with you, you're wrong," Buck says, cool as you please. He scratches his wrist. The guard behind him doesn't even twitch. Bucky catches the way Buck's hand doesn't fully uncurl when he drops it to his side again.

"What he said," Bucky adds.

"You Americans and your confidence," the interrogator says, looking like he wants to spit. "Always so certain you can't be stopped."

Bucky shrugs and slouches further in his chair. He finishes his cigarette, stares at the interrogator, and flicks the butt to the floor. The man's nostrils flare. "Buck, when we're out of here, I'm taking you dancing."

"You can try," Buck says, and Bucky moves at the same moment Buck does, grabbing the interrogator by the throat and snatching the letter opener off of the desk. He stabs him through the jugular, holding him up as he bleeds all over his pristine uniform.

He lays the interrogator on the floor and glances at Bucky. The guard's down, too. His neck slashed clean across. There's a razor blade with fabric wrapped around the dull side next to him.

"How'd you get a razor blade?" Bucky asks as he takes the interrogator's gun and knife and searches through his pockets. He finds money and a gold watch.

"They made me scrub their bathrooms," Buck says. "I think it was meant to emasculate me. I found it in the wastebasket."

"They didn't search you?" Bucky asks. He walks to the door and presses his ear to it. There's no noise outside.

"They're undisciplined," Buck says. "Not lazy or dumb, but undisciplined."

Bucky reads between the lines. It won't be easy or simple to get out of here, but the men here won't be expecting a fight. "It's quiet out there," he says.

Buck walks up next to Bucky and hands him a box of ammunition. He tucks two folders into his jacket, then tucks another two into Bucky's. They all have a large stamp on the front that seems to imply importance. "Where's your sheepskin?"

"Traded it out," Bucky says. "You hated it."

Buck stares at him for a moment, then pulls him in and kisses him. "You ever fly without it again, I'll shoot you down myself."

Bucky kisses back. "I'm telling Marge you paused my heroic rescue to kiss me like a bad movie."

"I'm telling Marge you were dumb enough to get captured," Buck replies. He pulls Bucky into a quick hug that Bucky happily returns. "Ready?" Buck asks, holding up the knife he's stolen. His gun's tucked into his waistband so he can grab the doorknob.

Bucky stands behind him, the knife in his right, the gun in his left. The box of ammunition in his pocket makes him feel lucky. The sharp concentration and determination in Buck's eyes makes him feel sure. "Let's get the hell out of here."

#masters of the air #egancleven #buckybuck #bucksquared #fic #fic prompt #bucky egan #buck cleven

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happenstnces · 1 year

Text

⠀CRIMSON CLOVER ✧ E. PRENTISS

✧ based off of this prompt. emily prentiss x gn!reader !

syn. it may be your job, but you’re getting sick and tired of patching her up. warning ! intentional lowercase, swearing, mentions of blood, alcohol, & smoking, suggested smut, enemies to a little more than friends, slight hurt/comfort & angst. wc. 2.4k

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist ! add yourself to the taglist here

the first time you met her, you immediately knew you could never get along.

getting her to sit down at the foot of the rig was a struggle on it’s own, she kept insisting that she was fine, that it was just a scratch, and she made it nearly impossible for you to just do your damn job. she huffed the entire time, rolling her dark eyes as you fired through the list of routine questions, acting as though you tending to the gash in her forehead was nothing more than an inconvenience.

“seriously, i’m fine.” she snapped, shrugging the hand you had on the top of her head away. you quirked a brow, “you need stitches.”

“no, i don’t. it doesn’t even hurt,” she raised her hand to prod at the open wound, but you were quick to catch her wrist before she could make contact and inevitably give herself an infection. “oh, i didn’t realize the fbi gave out medical degrees.”

you dropped her hand back to her lap and cocked your head in annoyance, hoping to god she would just shut up and sit there. “when you work in a hospital that isn’t on wheels, i’ll start taking medical advice from a nurse.” she muttered.

she wasn’t even sure why she said it, she didn’t have any particular hatred for paramedics, in fact, she often found herself very thankful for them. part of her felt bad for being so rude to you, you were just doing your job, but in her defence, getting clocked in the head with a two-by-four had slowed her down and allowed the unsub to escape; leaving her unwillingly sat in the back of an ambulance while the rest of the team followed in pursuit.

“perfect. next time you need a hospital on wheels, i’ll remember you said that.” you made sure your tone matched hers, infused with clear irritation, while trying to just scrape being professional. it may be petty, but your day hadn’t exactly been going your way, either. “and i’m not a nurse.”

“are you done yet?”

“did i say i was done?”

she bit her tongue, stewing in her annoyance until you snapped your gloves as you pulled them off. “there. now i’m done.” she narrowed her eyes at you, “thanks.” if she had only waited until she was a few more feet away, you would have missed what she mumbled beneath her breath as she strode towards the black SUV parked a little up the road.

“smartass.”

you didn’t see her for some time after that, either she had been extremely careful in the field (which sounded rather unlikely), or she had requested you specifically be removed from the rotation of paramedics that are first on the bau’s beck and call.

in all honesty, you wouldn’t put it past her—hell, you had even thought about requesting it yourself. the next time you saw her, you internally groaned, rolling your eyes when her back turned to you.

“please, roll your eyes harder. i don’t think they got a good look at the back of your skull.” judging by the smirk on her lips, she must’ve thought that was quite clever. you didn’t respond, keeping your eyes trained on the bloody knuckles cradled in your hands, brows knit together in annoyance. you didn’t have it in you to bicker with her right now, quickly making friends with silence.

“what? no snarky remarks for me today, sunshine?” she prodded, raising her leg beside her, foot tucked into the crook of her knee. you hummed, but said nothing. the quicker you could patch her up, the quicker you could continue with your day. “you bruised the bone.” you disturbed the lull that had snaked its way between you.

“no, i didn’t.”

“really?” you pressed ever so gently on the knuckle of her pointer finger, watching as she winced and swore and tugged her swollen hand from your grasp. “ow!” your brows raised knowingly, pursing your lips as if to silently say i told you so. “what did you do?” she was hesitant to slip her hand back into yours waiting open and patiently. “nothing, yet. if you don’t let me do my job, my story might change.”

you held her gaze for a second, as if to solidify your threat, but it quickly dissolved into a small smile that mirrored hers. “what did you do?” you changed the topic; maybe if you got to know her, your distaste would soften. you highly doubted it, but it was worth a shot, right?

“punched someone.” she said nonchalantly, “a few times.”

you let out a sharp puff of air from your nose, a sorry excuse for a laugh, and reached for the medical tape beside you. “i’d hate to see what they look like.” you were both silent again, and you didn’t speak until you had taped her hand and told her she was free to go.

“stop getting hurt, i’m sick of fixing you.” you called as she began to walk away. she turned on her heel and took a few steps backwards, biting back a laugh. “oh, no! what am i to do without my favourite nurse?”

you curled your lips downward, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “still not a nurse.”

much like before, a few weeks passed before your paths crossed again—this time, it wasn’t in the middle of your workday. you were walking home from a game night with your friends when she came stumbling out of a bar a few paces up the sidewalk, hand cupping her jaw as she cursed, rather loudly.

“fucking christ!” you weren’t going to say anything, hoping you could seamlessly pass by, until she spit a mouthful of blood in front of her boots, wiping the corner of her bleeding lip with the heel of her hand.

“prentiss?” you called out, stopping a few feet away. she looked up, and if you had been looking a little closer, you would’ve caught the relief that momentarily flashed across her face. “oh, hey.” she shook her stiff hand out, the once swollen and bloody knuckles reduced to faint green and yellow blots, wobbling on unsteady legs as she did so.

you scoffed, already wishing you could go back in time and keep walking. “what happened?”

“bar fight.”

“jesus,” you muttered, wryly chuckling in disbelief. “i’m starting to think you’re purposefully looking to get injured.” she smiled back at you, wincing when the movement stretched the open cut on the corner of her lip. “fuck,” she hissed. “guess i can’t stay away,” she spat another mouthful of blood on the pavement, “where else am i gonna find a nurse with such an attitude?”

you cornered her with your gaze. “you’re making it really difficult to want to help you.” again, that cocky, shit-eating smile lit up her face. “c’mon, what other patient do you love as much as me?”

“oh, love is not the word that comes to mind when i think of you, prentiss.”

“emily.”

“what?”

“my name. it’s emily.”

you nodded firmly, just once. “okay, emily. do you want me to look at that split lip, or what?” her smile only seemed to grow. “it sounds like you really want to. i dunno, i think you do love me. just a little bit.”

you nudged her with your shoulder as you began to walk forward again, silently beckoning her to follow, and it’s only when she was behind you did you let your sheepish smile present itself to the cement. you were quick to reel it in, turn your head over your shoulder, and nod up the sidewalk, an indication for her to come with you. “i don’t need you telling everyone i neglected an injured fbi agent. you coming, or are you too busy spitting up your teeth?”

she giddily smiled and began following the ghost of your footsteps, lighting a cigarette after a few blocks of silence. “are you seriously smoking right now?” she cluelessly looked at you, cigarette hanging from the intact corner of her lips, “oh, sorry. want one?”

“no, i don’t. i can’t believe you smoke.”

“why? tons of people do it.”

“yeah, and it kills tons of people—people who aren’t already in danger because of their job. you’re like a walking death wish.”

you came to a halt in front of the door to your complex, watching as she tossed it to the ground and stomped it out with the toe of her boot. “technically, i’ve died already.”

“i’m sorry, what?”

“don’t be. it was kinda cool, i guess. i don’t know.”

your lips smoothed into a small frown. you didn’t ask her to share, you didn’t want to prod.

she briefly explained how she had been put in witness protection after the doyle case as you made your way up to your apartment, finishing her story once you sat her on the lip of your bathtub and began rooting through your medicine cabinet. “i’m sorry that happened to you.” she shrugged it off as if it was nothing more than an insignificant, bothersome part of her week, like getting stuck in traffic or the grocery store being sold out of her favourite snack.

you watched her gently prod at the cut with her thumb, looking down at the dried blood smeared across her hand in confusion. “is this from me?” she looked up at you, brows furrowed in drunken uncertainty. she didn’t remember there being this much. “stop touching it.” after gathering what you needed, you sat cross-legged on your toilet seat and grabbed her by the shoulders, tilting her towards you.

“but yes.” you were cautious to grasp her jaw, ever so gently slanting her head to the side to get a good look, “damn, whoever you fought got a few good swings in. maybe you’re not as good as i thought,” you tried to lighten her confusion with a joke, only her intoxication blurred the line between harmless poking and genuine disappointment.

her face fell slightly. “emily, i’m kidding.” she hummed. she was silent for a long while, glassy eyes inspecting your bathroom as you dabbed the dried blood off her chin with a washcloth. “you’re not obligated to do this, you know.” she quietly confessed.

“to do what?” she grabbed your wrist and pulled your cool fingers from her face, turning her head straight to look at you. “to keep fixing me.” you let out a shallow, calm sigh, shaking your head. “if we’re still talking in technicalities, i am.”

you raised your hand to keep going, but she stopped you again, bloody fingers twisting around your own. “but you’re not. you could’ve kept walking. why didn’t you?”

“why didn’t i keep walking?”

she nodded, “i know you don’t like me.” and while there was a kernel of truth in her statement, you weren’t exceptionally fond of her, you couldn’t help but find her snarky attitude a little charming. “i can’t let you walk around like this. who’d trust an fbi agent that looks like they got their shit rocked?”

again, you tried to bring your conversation back to lighthearted territory. “you’re deflecting.”

“and you’re profiling me.”

this seemed to shut her up for a moment, enough time for you to wipe away the blood that had trickled down the column of her neck. you started to clean along the length of her forearm when she stopped you again, prying the washcloth from your hand and placing it on the edge of the bathtub beside her. “seriously, why are you helping me?”

you held her eye with your own slightly pointed. “can’t i, just…be nice to you? why do you think i have ulterior motives, or something?”

“because you’ve never been just nice to me.”

“you’ve never given me a reason to be.”

again, this seemed to stun her for the time being. whether it be the intoxicated mind-lag or not, she sat wordlessly and inspected your face as you began rooting through the first aid bag again. “i don’t have the proper stuff to stitch your lip,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, trying to think of a quick temporary fix until the morning.

“you can kiss it better.”

“ha-ha, knee slapper.”

she nudged your ankle with her foot, bringing your focus back to her face. “i wasn’t kidding.” this time, it’s you that was stunned to silence for a beat.

“you’re drunk.”

“i’m sober enough to know what i’m saying.” she cocked her head, fingers splayed along the small of your wrist. “i see the way you look at me. i know you want to.” she leaned ever so slightly, enough so you could faintly smell the cigarette smoke lingering on her tongue.

your eyes flicked from her own, her lips, then to her eyes again. “i don’t kiss my patients.”

“no? not part of your specialty?” she smiled, bottom lip slipping between her teeth. then she tipped her chin up, brushing her lips warily against yours. when she felt you start to kiss her back, your hands flying to cup her face in your hands, she poured a little more faith into her movements and kissed you like she meant it, like your lips against hers was the thing she’d been unknowingly missing.

“do you want me to stop?” she clarified between soft lip locks, hands trickling down your sides. “no.” and then your lips connected again, moving in perfect synchronicity, slow and gentle as you map out exactly what the other favoured. when you part your lips, emily hesitantly swiped her tongue across the bottom one, asking for permission.

you opened your mouth a little wider, your tongues rolling against one another as you explored each other’s mouths, hands roaming over clothed skin and shallow breaths swapping between you.

the next morning you’d awoken to an empty bed, naked body twisted around the cold, stark-white sheets you had found yourself entangled in the night before. it wasn’t until you fully sat up did you notice it; the small crimson blotch in the middle of the pillowcase beside you. it was impossible to miss, it made you grit your teeth and whip your head around in search of the source.

instead, at the end of the trail your clothing created, a sticky note on the bathroom doorframe anticipated your attention.

morning, sunshine. did you know the coffee place down the street does a nurses discount? i’d check that out if i were you. - emily.

you scoffed.

you were right, you could never get along.

an. mean lesbian emily number one in my heart forever <3 this is borderline ooc but idc this was a lot of fun to write :-)

tglist. ( open ! you can request to be added or removed here ) @mylilenbyheart @storiesofsvu @mickey-gomez @daffodil-heart

#marla writes #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x gn!reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagines #emily prentiss drabbles #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds drabbles #criminal minds fanfiction #bau x reader #bau imagines #bau drabbles #mw: crimson clover

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wifeyifey · 1 year

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Raphael (bayverse) x gn!crush!reader

Part 2 of the one-bed trope 😈

I realized it was a fem!reader at first cause Raphael saying baby girl makes my brain go brrrr 🥴 but I changed it to be more inclusive for my bbs out there who don't get as much rep cause most of it is fem!reader

This is not proofread so I’m sorry for any mistakes my friends

Tiny bit of angst and then mostly fluff

Description: Due to the Foot clan knowing your whereabouts, you’re staying in the turtles’ lair and your favorite turtle suggested you sleep in their bed.

You were being carried into the lair by Raph with you going in and out of consciousness. This was not how he expected his night to go. Hearing that the Foot had you nearly threw him into a pit of blind rage. He ran out as soon as Donnie got your location. Obviously, everyone else was in tow and by the time they got to you, Raph thought he was done seeing red, but then he saw the bruises on you. “Raph,” you whimpered as his hands cupped your face, “I didn’t tell them. I didn’t tell them where you were or anything, I-I promise. I didn’t. I didn’t. ” You couldn’t help the tears falling down your face, you were just happy to see Raph. “Shh shh shh, I know you didn’t, baby, I know. I know,” he said softly and quickly got the ropes confining you to the chair and he quickly cradled you in his arms. His brothers already cleared the way out and you were brought back to the lair in haste.

“Donnie. Donnie, where do I put them?!” Donnie guided Raph into his lab where he cleared a table to check all your vitals and make sure there weren’t broken bones or internal bleeding. Raphael stayed next to Donnie waiting for your eyes to open again.After a while, Donnie said everything was clear and you just needed some rest at this point. “I’ll give them my bed. I barely use it-” “No. They can use my bed. I need to make sure they’re ok.” Raph interrupted Donnie. Donnie just nodded his head, “I’ll come by and check on them in an hour or so. I’ll give them more medicine if they need it. Try to get some rest, Raph. They’ll be ok.” Raph nodded his head softly as he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. As soon as the door closed, he slowly walked over to you.

He rubbed his hand over your hair and leaned his forehead against yours. “I swear you raise my blood pressure like no one else shorty.” He huffed out a small laugh from his nose. Raising his head, he looks over the bruises on your jaw and your black eye. He brushes his finger against your cheek, “I love you so much (N/N). When you wake up, I’ll make sure ya hear it straight fro’ me.”

He backed up against the wall next to the bed and slid down, propping up his knees and resting his arms against them. He looks at the wall in front of him and closes his eyes for a few minutes. He opens his eyes and looks to his right and notices your hand hanging over the bed and he softly grabs your warm hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He thinks for a moment and leans forward to leave a small kiss to the back of your hand.

Moments after you grip his hand, and groan out a small “Raphael.” He was up in an instant and leaning in close to you. “(Y/N), god ya have no idea how happy I am to see yer beautiful eyes right now.” You grab his hand and smile softly as you guide it to cup your face. “Is this your bed?” you ask him. He nodded his head with slight confusion. “Then why are you not in it?” you said rub the outside of the hand on your cheek. He huffed a small laugh, “I ain’t want to make ya uncomfortable, baby.” You smiled a little more and gave a kiss to his hand. “You could never make me uncomfortable, Raphie. Come on. Lay down with me. Please.” Raph got up and laid down next to you. Quite stiffly you might add.

You turned around to face him. Why is he so stiff? You grabbed his arm and put it around your waist as you gingerly scooted closer to him. You snuggled yourself into his chest and placed a small kiss at the base of his neck. He gulped and felt himself warm up at the feeling. You looked up from your spot and met his eyes. “Thank you for getting me Raphael… I… I was so scared I’d never get to see you again. Never get to tell you how much I love you.” The breath he was holding escaped him in a small sigh. He looked down at your lips then back to your eyes. In the smallest voice he didn’t exactly think would come out of him, he said “I love ya more than anythin’ (N/N). Ain’t no one gonna hurt you like that again, angel.” You felt the tears burn your eyes. It was such an emotionally long day for you and you leaned in just enough to brush your lips against his and then pressed a firmer one against the corner of his lips. He wraps his arm tighter around you and pulls you into his chest. He smiles against your head as he pressed a kiss into your hair.

He knows now that this isn’t going to be just his room anymore. He couldn’t wait to see what you’ll add to his life as his s/o from now on.

Lmk what yall think!!

Requests are open!!

#tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse x reader #raphael x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016

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roetrolls · 4 months

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Simpler Times

“Orfuse!” His name, called as a greeting, is laced with just enough exasperation to alert the oracle of what he is about to hear next. “You forgot to lock the door again.”

“Hello to you too, grumpy-pants!” He chirps back, scribbling a note in his journal and listening for his moirail’s familiar, heavy footfall in the hall.

“What if someone wanted to kill you?”

“Well, I don’t think the door’s persuasive enough to help me there.”

“Orfuse.”

“I’m sorry!” he concedes. “I forgot.”

“How?”

The word comes out with such incredulity that it breaks in two, and Orfuse beams into his notebook. He can’t get enough of the adorable cracks that have begun to grace that ever-deepening voice, as embarrassing as his moirail seems to find them.

“Maybe my hands were full!”

“You’re a handful,” Harlan says fondly, finally coming to a halt in the living room’s entrance.

With a twinkling laugh, Orfuse lifts his head to greet him proper. At once, though, his mirth is stymied, replaced by a horrified gasp and his heart in his throat.

Harlan leans against the doorframe with his clothing wrinkled and his facepaint smudged to nothing, dried blood spattered across his skin. His lip is busted and his cheek is swollen, with a fresh bruise already blooming at his temple.

Orfuse nearly falls from his chair with how fast he leaps from it. “Harly!”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt!” He counters, taking his moirail by the arms and dragging him to sit on the couch for a better look at the damage. His fists seem to have had the worst of it, with knuckles split to bleeding and bruises on his fingers. “What happened?”

“There was a fight,” Harlan answers simply, sitting still and allowing Orfuse’s worried hands to comb through his hair in search of hidden wounds.

“I can see that,” he says, and it is his turn to be incredulous. Though he can’t seem to find any evidence of injury, there is certainly blood, dried into his tresses in such a way that it crunches between the oracle’s fingers. “Is this yours?”

“No.”

He draws back, relieved.

“But this is,” Harlan adds, raising one sharp, shiny tooth into view. Orfuse gapes, eyes widening into saucers, and the purpleblood grins wide enough for him to see the gap where his canine should have been.

Orfuse tries in vain to lift his jaw off the floor.

“It’ll grow back,” the young subjug shrugs, still flashing him that dimpled, toothless smile. “Faster if you kiss it, maybe?”

“Harly!” He admonishes through a bout of suppressed giggles, shoving at his face with a hand. “What is wrong with you!?”

Harlan guffaws, reaching up to pull the oracle’s arm away. His grip is weaker than Orfuse is used to, and the awkward way he holds the bronzeblood’s wrist to lay a kiss upon his palm belies just how much pain he’s really in.

Pity swells in the oracle’s chest, and he takes one of Harlan’s hands in his to assess the damage once more. He’s not so naive as to be unaware what an injury of this nature means. He has a feeling he doesn’t want to see the other guy.

“I’ll get you some bandages,” he says softly, stifling the instinct to give his palm a squeeze.

“Thank you.”

It doesn’t take him long to return with the first aid supplies, but a few minutes alone is all it takes for whatever adrenaline carried Harlan here to finish filtering out. By the time Orfuse settles back in to begin cleaning the wounds, his moirail looks exhausted.

“Does anything else hurt?”

Harlan exhales through his nose. “Apart from everything? No. Not from the fight.”

Orfuse flashes him a sympathetic look, pausing his medical ministrations to put a comforting hand on his knee. “Achey?”

“Sharp. The growing kind.” He sighs wearily, his eyelids heavy. “I’d like to be done with it already. I don’t need to get any bigger.”

A silence lingers between them for a moment. Orfuse hopes it’s the welcome sort.

“I’m going to use the alcohol now, alright? It might sting a little.”

Harlan nods in acknowledgement, then looks away, likely hoping to hide whatever reaction he may have when the liquid meets his cuts.

“What was the fight about?”

“You.” His shoulders relax as Orfuse begins wrapping his knuckles, the worst of the process finished. “Krivek wanted to run his mouth again. He called you a leech. Said you made me weak.”

“Harly…” Orfuse frowns. “You can’t go picking fights every time someone says a bad word about me. I don’t want that.”

“You don’t understand the church, Orfuse. There’s no place for weakness in that world. I needed to prove him wrong, for both our sakes.”

“What did you even prove?”

“That you make me strong.”

#hey guys young harfuse drabble get it while it's hot #harlan mahkir #writing #guest star!#orfuse #tongues and teeth #harfuse #the fact that i can go write a drabble from the pov of chase's guy #and not send it to chase till im done #we truly do share custody #harlan writing

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intoxicated-chan · 5 months

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𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐘𝐨𝐮❜𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

Summary ➳ Things go awry at camp and everyone heads to the CDC, Shane tries to let go of his suspicious but he becomes angrier.

(A/n) ➳ Flirting and writing creative insults are difficult, another thing to add to my list… I ended up making a MAJOR time jump, I’m sorry!

Word Count ➳ 2.3k

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, blowjob, TWD violence, panic attack, heavy profanity, mentions of animal’s death, violence, blood, alcohol use…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“C’mon.” Daryl grunted, pushing you head further down his cock. He was sitting on the closest rock while your knees dug into the rocky dirt, painfully poking your knees. You just hoped that they wouldn’t leave bruises.

His hand kept a grip on your hair, your jaw went slack and you allowed him to have complete control. He yanked you off him, and he snickered at your state.

Swollen lips and coated in saliva, your cheeks redden with streaks of dried tears. “Ya gotta help me, unless you want that bastard catching you.”

“Okay, okay.” You spoke, voice hoarse.

He pulled you back down to his cock, welcoming him into your hot mouth. Your eyes shut immediately, your tongue swirled around him, you hollowed your cheeks and attempted to take him further down your throat.

“Lookin’ pretty.” Daryl let out a groan, throwing his head back as his mouth opened, letting out an airy moan. “Takin’ me so well.”

As you worked with him in your mouth, you focused on what made him react the most. You gagged each time when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You were eager, desperate for more and more, moaning around his cock, adding more sensation.

The tip of Daryl’s ears are red, grunting in between his teeth, he was struggling to contain his moans.

Suddenly, you were tugged off his cock. Your eyes open in surprise, and you see him jerking himself off in front of you.

He pulled your head further back, forcing you to stick out your chest towards him. “Wait Daryl-”

He cursed like before, his cum spitting out all over your chest and shirt… Your shirt! You remain angrily silent as he pumped himself a couple of more times before stopping.

Daryl slightly leaned back, panting for air as he eyed you with a smirk. “Lookin’ quite pretty.” He commented.

“Gonna make me walk back to came lookin’ like this?” You asked him, pulling at your shirt and feeling it stick to your skin.

Daryl tucked himself back into his pants and his shit eating grin did fall. “Ashamed?”

“No. I just rather not have Shane up my ass about it.” You sighed, standing to your feet and dusting off your knees and back of the dirt.

Daryl picked up his crossbow. “Head on, I’ll see ya back at camp.”

Everyone surrounded the campfire as the freshly caught and cooked fish was passed around. Laughter and bickering filled the air, taking their mind off all the worries, even if it was just for a moment.

You sat in the folding chair next to Shane, poking at your food as it was awkward for you and Shane. You wanted to sit next to Amy or Andrea but Shane convinced you to at least sit next to him.

You avoided eye contact with him, still feeling hurt.

You saw from the corner of your eye, Shane placing his plate down on his lap and sighing. “(Y/n), ‘bout earlier-”

“Save it.”

“I should’ve not said that. I was jus’ worried.” Yet he continued. “Especially ‘bout the dog, I know you loved him.”

“That don’t give you the right to treat me like a teenager.” You picked at the fish, tearing it into smaller pieces. “He was a good boy, a good one.” Your voice shakes as your vision becomes blurred.

Shane’s hand comes around to your shoulder, pulling you to lay your head on his shoulder. “He was… I understand you want to believe in those guys, and I ain’t gonna stop my suspicions. We can’t afford to make mistakes.” Shane clicked his tongue, hesitating on his next words. “But I’ll try to tolerate ‘em for now.”

You looked at him, confusion written all over your face. “...You screwin’ with me?”

Shane laughed at your reaction, shaking his head and smiling. “I ain’t, I’m apologizin’.” It took you a moment before you looked back at the campfire and smiled as well. “I miss this.” Shane said as he rubbed your shoulder, using his other hand to eat his food.

Your appetite returned, but you attempted to sit up but Shane kept his grip on you. “You gonna let go?”

“Gotta accept my apology.”

“I gotta eat.”

“You’ll give in.”

“C’mon Shane!”

“Forgive me!”

Both of your laughter joins the chatter of the rest of them talking about Dale’s watch. It really brought back memories of before all of this happened.

“Alright, alright! I’ll forgive you-”

Amy screamed.

You jumped out of his gasped and looked in her direction, Walkers… More than you could in your now panicked state. They were coming from behind the R.V.

Everyone else began to scream as well, scrambling to get away from the fire.

“Shit!” You tripped on your own feet. “Fuck Shane!”

Shane dragged you a couple feet back, grabbing his shotgun and cocked it. “(Y/n) stay with Lori!” He stood in between you three and started shooting.

You pulled out your dagger, your eyes scanning all around you.

“Look out!” Lori cried out.

You dodged the lunge from the Walker, plunging your dagger directly into its skull. You kicked its body back and kept Lori and Carl close to you.

Lori held Carl tightly, he screamed and cried. You don’t blame him, you wanted to scream and cry too.

Gunshots rang all around you, screams and cries… You couldn’t focus at all.

It was all overwhelming.

The shotguns made your ears ring loudly, but you could still hear the screams loud as day. And those fighting without guns, fight with bats, smashing their heads in.

“(Y/n)!” Shane grabbed your arm as Lori and Carl remained behind him. “C’mon! Follow me!”

Once Shane released your arm to continue firing, you remained on Lori’s left, keeping your dagger up as Shane led you all to the R.V.

“Carol!”

“Stay close!”

“C’mon, y’all! Work your way up here!”

You grabbed an arm of another Walker and stabbed it in the head again, its body dropping to the ground with a wet thud.

You gagged, bringing your arm to attempt to block the disgusting smell of its rotting corpse.

“Right in front of you, Shane!”

Shane continued shooting down Walkers as you all got closer to the R.V.

“Get to the R.V.! Go!”

But now cornered to the R.V. You all had to face the group of them behind you.

“Morales, work up here!”

His shotgun now empty, Shane kept his arms in front of you, Lori and Carl. “Make your way to the Winnebago!”

More shots are heard, and you see the group that went to save Merle. They worked quickly to clean out the threats.

Daryl’s shotgun ran out of bullets, he used the butt of it to kill another.

Rick used his pistol as he too ran out. “Baby! Carl! Baby!” He repeated, falling to his knees as Carl ran to him.

Silence falls among everyone, except those who are still crying and clutching their families close to their chest.

You choked on your words as you reached out to Shane with bloody hands. You tried calling out for him but whimpers left your lips.

Shane, still filled with adrenaline, heard your sounds. His hands immediately on your shoulders, thinking of the worst.

“You hurt?!”

But seeing as the blood was only Walkers’ blood, he didn’t have to worry about you turning but trying to calm you down.

When your knees gave out, Shane was quick to support you, slowly sitting you down on the ground.

“I need you to breathe.” Hold your face in his hands. “Breathe for me, breathe.”

You started to become light headed, your breathing turning into rapid gasps. “I-I can’t-”

“We made it, we’re safe.” Shane felt helpless as he looked into your eyes, fear in them. “Everythin’s alright. We’re gonna be alright.”

You sat on your cot, looking down on your lap as the damp towel was thrown over your wet hair.

All you could think about was that night, you thought you were prepared for a surprise attack, but seeing them all up in your face, seeing them devour the living…

You couldn’t get it out of your head.

Imagine yourself as one of them…

It made your stomach churn, your throat go dry, and your body shake.

Nightmares, the nightmares from weeks before were of you turning or Shane… Sat on a chair, just listening to the horrid sounds.

“Hey.” You jolted, picking your head up to see Daryl with a plate of food in one hand, already sitting besides you. “Ya with me?”

You nodded, taking off the towel.

“Brought ya food.” He sat the plate on your lap, taking a swing from the bottle of wine he brought with him. “Notice ya didn’t eat anythin’.”

You took the fork and took a bite. It was delicious… But you chewed slowly and silently, unsure if you were going to vomit it all out.

“Ya gonna say anything’?”

Silence.

“Ya regret it? ‘Cause it startin’ to look like it.”

You shook your head.

“Then fuckin’ say it.”

You looked him in the eye. “I don’t regret a single thing with you, I never could.”

“Ya gonna finish eatin’?”

“I ain’t hungry.”

Daryl snatched the plate and dropped it on the group, he leaned into your neck and began planting kisses.

“Daryl-” Your hands come to his chest. “Are you drunk?” He grumbled something in response and you sighed, pushing him back. “You’re drunk.”

You took the wine from him and dropped it next to the plate, laying him down on the cot.

“C’mon.” He groaned, reaching for the wine.

“You had enough.” You giggled at his flushed face. “You gonna make it to your room?”

Daryl grumbled again, laying on his back, his head to the side. You laughed again, laying on his arm.

“I was serious. I loved it.” He hummed, closing his eyes. You shuffled closer to him. “Don’t believe me?”

“Shut up.”

“I-”

The door quickly opened, slamming on impact. “(Y/n)?” Shane said.

“Calm down Shane! Calm down!” Rick yelled, holding his best friend back, his arm around Shane’s neck.

“Daryl! Stop it!” T-Dog’s arms were hooked under Daryl’s arms.

Everyone was shouting over everyone, Lori stayed by your side confused and trying to get answers out of you. But you were more worried if Shane was going to end up killing Daryl.

It was like time froze when Shane came into your room, finding you lying next to Daryl… Then hell broke loose.

Shane was blinded by rage, his knuckles bloody as he was able to get a couple of hits on Daryl before he was pulled off.

“Imma kill you Dixon! You hear me!” Shane growled, trying to get out of Rick’s grip. Glenn wrapped his arms around Shane, worried and panicking. “I fuckin’ saw you touchin’ her!”

“Ain’t that fuckin’ sweet!” Daryl only laughed, ignoring everyone’s suggestions to shut up. “There’s more than jus’ touchin’!”

“Fuckin’ cut off your hands! Every fuckin’ piece of you! Feed you to the damn Walkers!”

Rick and Glenn started to drag Shane out and into a different room, Lori following behind him.

“Give me a sec.” You told Daryl, heading to Shane who was sitting down with Rick.

Rick placed his hand on your shoulder. “Are you-”

“What the fuck was that?” You demanded to know, slapping Rick’s hand away. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“The hell did I say? I don’t trust him!”

“You don’t trust him and you can’t trust me?!”

“I didn’t say that!”

“I appreciate your fuckin’ concern, I ain’t a fuckin’ child let alone yours Shane! Short your shit out!”

The room became silent as you both glared at each other. Rick was ready to step in at any second.

“Okay-”

“Fine. do whatever the hell you want.” Shane stood abruptly. “See how that works for you.”

“Best fuckin’ believe Shane, I fuckin’ will!”

With that, You turned on your heel, storming out of the room.

“Gonna suck him off to make him feel better ‘bout himself?!”

Now back in your room, with your back against the door as you took deep breaths to calm down.

Daryl sat on your cot, trying to wipe the blood off his face with your towel. “...He always like that?” His eyes narrowed as he too was still angry.

“It’s not- Shane’s just… I-I don’t know anymore.” You fall to the ground, crying. “I don’t know what happened to him. He ain’t the same anymore, like he’s goin’ crazy.”

No longer able to come up with an excuse for Shane’s behavior change. You don’t know where or how it started…

“When the world goes to shit, shows a side of ‘em you ne’er expected.”

You sniffled, wiping your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. You then got up and walked to Daryl, grabbing the towel to clean the blood he missed.

“You sure know yer way ‘round fixin’ people up.”

A hint of a smile returned to your face. “Years of practice. Now hold still.” Dapping and swiping his face, you poked his nose. “Is it broken? Feelin’ better?”

“Fine. look (Y/n)-”

“Jus’ shut up.”

Before he could finish, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his. And Daryl’s rough hands gently cupped your face, your hands came to his wrist.

It was just the two of you and everything else disappeared. A kiss filled with frustration and passion, the tension still injured from earlier, but it soon vanished.

You both pulled away, your eyes meeting his. You had started to regret it until Daryl spoke.

“Ain’t that somethin’.”

You couldn’t help but smile and nod. “Yeah, it was.”

Taglist ➳ @easystreet07 , @daryldixmedown , @blackvelveteen1339 , @nosebleeds-247 ,

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lxve-and-lxght · 2 years

Text

why me? pt. 2

eddie munson/ reader

warnings: blood, death, vampire!eddie, vampire!reader, light flirting, will add smut if requested

a/n: i was not expecting y’all to like this but yk here we are. again lemme know if i should just keep running with this

part.1 part.3

november 6th, 1983 was the day you died. you recalled the way the atmosphere changed, becoming speckled with white flakes, almost resembling snow. and the way the air tasted rancid. how he tried to bite into your sternum and how you’d stuck him in the shoulder with a broken branch. and jesus how you ran back into the woods, desperately trying to find the tree that was broken open.

“why would anyone want to be a pet?” eddie tried back.

“go to bed, moron,” you replied, climbing off him.

“i thought i was dead?”

“you are, munson.” you tried your best not to laugh, grabbing the corporal by the leg and pulling him to the door. “you can still sleep.”

“where are you going?” he asked, shooting off the mattress. “i thought you said you were lonely?”

“i’m going to take care of your little mess, sweet face unless you’d like me to leave your leftovers in the living room.”

“...oh.”

“oh.” you mimicked.

eddie watched you disappear into the dark and then just lied back. he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve your attention. why him? why weren’t you there when chrissy was killed? or fred? or even that kid from the basketball team who was hunting him. why’d you chosen to share eternity with a freak who didn’t know when it was an appropriate time to run? and why’d it felt like you had him in the palm of your hand?

when the morning came, you pushed the front door open, letting the light flood in and eddie was woken from his sleep by the unbearable pain of the sun. his face flushed with red splotches and blackening veins. he cried out your name in agony dragging himself into the shadows of the room.

“what’s wrong?” you panicked, kneeling next to him.

“it burns… f-fucking christ,” he hissed. “couldn’t you feel it?” you searched his face for something, anything. burns, cuts, bruises, but they were healing as quickly as they appeared. you stood to shut the door and close the curtains.

“you can’t go in the sun,” you muttered.

“then how’d you do that?” the metalhead urged, but you just shrugged. you’d always be able to go in the sun. he looked up at you through his lashes and you saw his eyes turning black again. fuck. it was going to be a lot harder keeping him alive than you’d thought.

“are you okay?” he just ran his hands over his face and sighed. “here.” you offered him your palm but he just stared. what the fuck was he supposed to do with your hand? you couldn’t help but giggle. “you really are brainless.” you said pulling his mouth to the skin. “bite.”

when he did his eyes bled red again and eddie felt exhilarated. he would never tell you, but you tasted like fire. like you were bleeding pure adrenaline into him and he’d never felt so invigorated, all the drugs he’d pumped himself full of never felt as good as this.

and for a moment he could see through your eyes. he saw his dying body in the upside down. he saw the bite marks you’d left on his body. the flash of red in his eye when he came to.

“slower.” you whimpered, your voice dragging him back into the real world. he struggled to pull his mouth off you till you grabbed him by the hair. “you need to learn how to pace yourself.” you laughed through your nose, rubbing the palm of your hand as his bite mark receded into itself.

“you taste good.” eddie replied. “why do you taste so much better than they do?”

“i’ll explain when you’re older.” you laughed again.

for two long months, you kept eddie hidden. he only left the trailer, with you, at night. till you were ready to help him find his friends, but even then he remembered you telling him that he could never be known again. that if he wanted to survive he had to hide. but he wanted the party to know he was alive, well not really, but he wanted to tell gareth and jeff that he was rescued by a succubus goddess, that you taught him to feed on his own and to clean up after himself. he wanted harrington and his sapphic friend robin to know he didn’t run away this time and he definitely wanted dustin to meet you.

#stranger things x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagine #vampire eddie x reader #eddiemunsonxvampirereader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson smut #x reader #smut

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brattylikestoeat · 2 months

Note

Im late, but here's some hoe tips 4 the hickey: grab a metal spoon, use it's "edges" to "spread out" the hickey. It'll hurt a bit and be lightly red, but the blood clots will move, making it less dark. Then, u gotta get a regular brush and brush the hickey out. Lastly, grab a lipstick, turn it down to it's bottom, and with the empty space inside the tube, put it on the hickey, and pull out: it will suction and when u pull out, it will make a little "pop".

It's a bit of work, but it saves me a bunch, esp from nosy ppl. I usually put ice after I'm done, but that's on u. If there's still a bruise/redness, add concealer if u need to go out.

U don't need to put a huge amount of force on the hickey, that'll be bad ofc, just use a regular pressure, not too light but not too hard. The redness after doing this usually goes away in a few hours (or minutes), but it's way better than having a giant bruise. Search "how to remove hickies" on reddit.

I’ll keep that in mind for next time.

The first pic is the next morning the second pic is today.

I did the ice thing but that’s about it.

#ask

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jasntodds · 1 year

Text

Petrichor [4]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 20,748

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut (wrap it before ya tap it!), a little bit of angst, mentions of scars, blood, bruises, reader gets a suit but the fit of it isn’t described just the colors (yes, it’s like Steph’s suit because it’s my favorite of the bats)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

A/N: So, I combined chapters 4 and 5 and this was over 25k words. Google Docs was lagging so hard I couldn’t finish editing on mobile. It was an ordeal lmao I’m so sorry. I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Over the next week, you and Jason continue your new dynamic. It’s fun for the both of you and it feels safe. Neither of you feel too much pressure with each other and you’re both really happy. It always starts with your game and then one of you makes the move. That’s usually who wins and it’s fun.

Now, you’re sitting in the kitchen on one of the laptops reading through a Reddit thread about the Titans. Steam is practically coming out of you ears as Jason walks in.

“You good?” Jason chuckles, seeing you look like you want to chuck the laptop out a window.

“Look at this!” You yell, pointing at the laptop screen that shows a Reddit that’s discussing the vigilante names of the Titans.

“What the fuck am I looking at?” Jason chuckles, his hand resting on the back of your chair and the other hand on the counter as he leans in.

“Acid Fingers!” You fume, pointing dramatically at the screen.

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter. “That you?” He glances at you and he knows this is going to be fun.

“I guess!” You yell, your hands flying above your head.

Jason shakes his head, looking through more of the names and they just keep more ridiculous. He’s taking a mental note of every name to call you the next time you make fun of him being Robin.

“Melty Hands?” Jason continues to chuckle, this is ridiculous.

“Glow girl!” You get more dramatic. “Who the fuck is Freddy Freeman and how can I kill him?!”

Jason looks at you and you’re so mad but he swears you’re endearing. “I think it’s great.” Jason lets his laugh subside.

You snap your neck at him, eyes wide, steam nearly coming out of your ears. “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU THINK IT’S GREAT?!?!?! YOU GOT BEASTBOY, SUPERBOY, NIGHTWING, STARFIRE, AND FUCKING ACID FINGERS?!?!?!?!!? WHAT THE FUCK.”

He thinks it’s funny how annoyed you are by it. It’s not even a big deal given you’re not actually a Titan at this current point in time and he has a vivid memory of you saying you don’t even like vigilante names from last week. And the only thing he wants to do is kiss the scowl off your face.

“Acid Fingers is a great one.” Jason tilts his head back, unable to control his laughing.

“I’m gonna hunt this little shit down. Acid Fingers.” You let out a scoff.

“I like it.” Jason says through a laugh. “I’m calling you that, now.”

“Don't you fucking dare, Jason Todd!”

Jason’s voice drops, his face coming closer to yours as he goes to taunt you. “What are you gonna do about it, Acid Fingers?”

You look back at him and the annoyance of the whole thing almost melts away because he looks at you like that, eyes darting to your lips and soft and nothing else even matters. But then he would win.

“You’re named after a fucking bird. And you don’t even look like a robin! You look more like a parrot.”

Jason’s brows furrow but he keeps his stance close to you. “A parrot?” Jason chortles.

“Red, green, black, yellow. Parrot. Robins are not that colorful.” You snark and Jason can see you trying desperately not to let a smirk come to your lips.

“Still better than, acid fingers. Could have called you Sulfar, Nitric, Bombardier, Scorpian!” Jason says enthusiastically. “Cobra could work, I guess, but that doesn’t fit, I don’t think.” He nods his head just once, his brows are just slightly knitted together.

You blink at him. “I’m actually gonna kill you.” Your words are softer this time, holding no venom with the hollow threat.

“You can try, Acid Fingers.”

“Jason Todd, so fucking help me.” You let out a groan and you knows he will never let this go.

“What’re you gonna do about it, babe?”

“You’re such a brat.” You state softly.

Jason’s laugh bellows through the kitchen as he leans up with the laugh. Bruce peaks in to see what the yelling is about but he just sees Jason laughing hysterically, happier than Bruce has ever seen him before. You look like you’re about to actually commit mass murder but Bruce catches the hint of smile on your face as you watch Jason laugh. Bruce smiles to himself before walking off and leaving the two of you to yourselves.

“I’m gonna tell this little shit--” You start, turning back to the laptop.

“Okay,” Jason cuts you off, yanking your laptop away from you and closing it. “He’s probably like twelve.” Jason laughs. “And you don’t even like the name thing so, Acid Fingers, get a grip.”

“It’s so stupid.” You whine before it turns into a laugh. “It’s so dumb!”

“Hey, I’m a bird and Dick still fucking chose Nightwing, kept the bird thing going. All of the bat stuff is called bat-something.” Jason chortles and he’s got a devious smirk.

“It’s all so dumb.” You get tears from laughing.

“I think Dick actually named most of the stuff. He named the batcomputer.” Jason explains.

“OH, but I call you guys Batsons and I don’t even get a laugh.” You roll your eyes.

“You called us Batsons?”

“Yeah! Are you not the sons of Batman?”

“I guess.” Jason mocks you.

“Shut the fuck up, Jaybird.” You groan, tilting your head back.

Jason can’t stop the laugh that escapes his mouth with the nickname. “Better than shithead, brat, and Acid Fingers.” Jason gives you a wild grin and all you can do is groan. “Come on, get up.” Jason offers you his free hand while you reach for the laptop. “No, enough internet for you today, fucking nerd. I want you to meet someone today.”

“You have friends?” You quip and Jason’s jaw drops as he narrows his eyes at you. “And don’t say me or Gar.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Jason laughs. “I have more friends than you do!” You go to open your mouth but Jason goes first. “Don’t say me or Gar.”

“Don’t say me or Gar.” You mutter under your breath, mocking him. “Okay, Krypto.”

“Krypto is a dog, he doesn’t fucking count!” Jason’s eyes widen and that’s something he really likes about you. Considering Krypto as a friend.

“I’m telling him you said that. You’re gonna hurt his feelings, you’re a monster!” You yell dramatically, placing your hand over your heart.

“You're so dramatic!” Jason doesn’t remember a time he laughed this much with anyone.

“You wear a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” You deadpan, blinking at him.

“You were a cape and put black eye shadow around your entire eye socket.” Jason makes a face, mocking you as he mutters under his breath. You let out a laugh and you adore him. “Come on, Acid Fingers.”

“See, dramatic.” You point a finger at him, a cocky smile on your lips.

There are bubbles exploding through his veins as you look at him with big eyes and that smile that could set the world on fire. He doesn’t know what that feeling is but he wants to chase it as fast and as long as he can.

“Come on, seriously. I think you’ll like her.”

“Her?” You raise a brow at him and you hate the way you find your stomach twist at the thought. You’re his friend, too and look where you are right now.

“Jealous?” Jason quips and maybe he's hoping you will be.

You almost say yes but if you’re both just messing around, that’s not very fair. But, he’s taunting you again and he always does that. You spend nearly all your time together so you take another route.

“Should I be?” You quip with confidence and you’re so sure that he’s yours even if your stomach fills with the warmth of green at the mention of a friend that’s a girl.

Jason shrugs because it’s the easiest answer in the world. “Nope.”

“Fine.” You take his hand in yours, getting to your feet. “Where we going?”

“For coffee in the city. Trust me, I think you’ll like her and you need more friends.”

“Aw, but this is so fun.” You scrunch your nose. “I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Have you met me?” Jason gestures to himself with the arm holding the laptop. “She won’t care. If she can tolerate my shit, she can tolerate yours.” Jason rests the laptop on the counter, you going to grab it but Jason yanks you back, pulling you against him. “Seriously?”

“No.” You shake your head, getting a grin before sliding your free hand up to his neck. “Knew you’d do that.” You pull him into you and kiss him deeply. You can feel Jason relax under your touch as you nip at his bottom, Jason groaning against you. When you pull away, his smile is soft and you’ve got that grin that makes Jason’s head spin. “See, I can plan ahead.”

“Alright.” Jason’s voice is breathless as he recovers. “Fuck off.”

“Taking the bike?”

“Always.” Jason chuckles. “Come on.” Jason pulls you along with him, his hand tangled with yours. “We’ll be back.” Jason peaks into the living room, giving Bruce a nod.

“Bye, Bruce!” You smile softly at him.

“Be careful,” Bruce states as the two of you head off.

"Okay, trust me, I think you'll like her." Jason beams, hands in the pockets of his pants as you walk the short distance to the door of a local coffee shop.

He's been friends with Molly for almost two years. Similar to you, Molly doesn't really take his shit but she lets him do his thing, she lets him be. She doesn't know everything but she's always been a good friend to him. Molly was the first person Jason even really considered a close friend. And introducing you to Molly, sure, is so you can have another friend because he believes wholeheartedly you'll get along. But, it's also another introduction to things that are his. Into his world. He doesn't have many friends, but he has Molly.

"Dunno, last girl I tried to be friends with, I punched her in the face." You chortle, watching as Jason grabs the handle of the door.

"Aren't you two good now?" He shakes his head in confusion,

"Yeah," You laugh and you can feel the nerves trickling into your throat. Meeting new people isn't always the most comfortable thing in the world. "I'm just saying though, that happened."

"Well, don't punch this one in the face, alright? She's cool, I swear." Jason assures you. "She also doesn't know about the whole Robin and Batman and Titans shit so don't say shit about that." Jason warns quietly, whispering in your ear before he opens the door.

"Yeah, figured that." You nod softly.

Jason holds the door open for you as you walk inside and he follows right behind you. You look around the coffee shop as Jason joins you at your side and then your eyes land on someone familiar sitting at a table alone near the windows. Your eyes widen as your stomach drops because it's Gotham sure but Gotham is a big enough city. Hell, you and Jason did have some overlap being homeless and you never crossed paths. But, this still seems so bizarre and you find it hard to believe.

The girl looks up from her phone, spotting Jason first and offers him a wide smile. But, then her eyes land on you beside him and her eyes go wide, the smile falling. Jason glances between the two of you, growing more confused by the second.

"Molly?" You nearly yell as you ignore Jason beside you.

“Y/n?” Molly gets up and starts the walk over to the both of you.

You meet Molly in the middle, your steps slow and you can't believe it's Molly. Your heart thunders in your ears as your eyes start to water. Molly pulls you into a hug as you meet in the middle and it's a piece home back in place for you. A part of you thought, maybe, you’d never see her again. Maybe you'd make the effort to never be seen again because that would easier than explaining everything but Molly hugs you and that would have been a bad decision.

"You know each other?" Jason questions as the two of you pull away.

"You know Jason?!" You and Molly question at the same time, looking to the boy who looks more confused than he has ever looked in his life.

"You first." You say.

"One of the shelters. My mom died not long after you took off. How about you?" Molly asks as she glances between the two of you, silently putting a few pieces together.

"Uhhh..." You look to Jason, realizing that explaining your story to someone you actually know makes the whole lying thing a little more difficult. Molly knows your tells. "It's a long story but San Francisco. He got Bruce to let me stay with them."

"Well, okay." Molly laughs, her eyes landing on you. "I've missed you." Molly's eyes grow teary.

You nod, the feeling in your chest growing heavy. "Me too. I'm....I'm so sorry about your mom. I-I should--"

"No, no, it's okay. You were processing yourself, it's okay. I tried to find you."

The guilt comes back, gnawing at your bones because you actively chose to be alone. It was your decision and you never had to leave Molly. Maybe had you just stuck it out, maybe you could have stayed. Her mom was like a second mom and maybe you and Molly could have worked something out. Then Molly wouldn't have been alone. You should have known. Social media is a thing.

"And you found Jason instead." You glance to him. "I am so sorry." You laugh.

"Fuck you." Jason groans but it turns into more of a laugh. "So, this is the friend you talked about in San Francisco?" Jason asks.

"Yeah." You nod.

"And she’s the friend that ran away?" Jason pieces everything together and he doesn't know how he didn't figure that out.

"Are you surprised?" Molly quips, looking back at you.

Jason lets out a laugh but his attention is only on you. "No, she does run."

"So do you." Your eyes widen as you snap your attention to Jason.

"Well, I got us a table." Molly gestures back to her spot.

The three of you make your way to Molly's table. Jason and you sit side by side while Molly sits across from you. It does not go unnoticed the way Jason pulled out your chair and the way you watched him until he sat down, almost subconsciously.

Molly raises a brow at the two of you. "Are you two...like?"

Both of you look like deer in headlights with the question. That question was a lot easier to answer a week ago but today it feels a little more complicated. Despite your agreement to keep this whole friends with benefits thing between the two of you, you both do not want to say no. But, you aren't together and you are friends so saying anything other than no, would be a lie.

"No." Jason lets out a breath, and he hates the bitter taste of the word. "She's just using me for a roof." Jason finds himself able to quip and he intentionally keeps his attention on Molly.

It stings, just a little but not because it's not true. But because you want to explain what you are to Molly. You want to brag about him.

"You literally offered. I was gonna just live on the streets." You quip back, holding your head high.

"Well, I wasn't gonna let you." Jason scoffs.

"No, we're friends. I just like to fuck with him." You look back to Molly and Molly swears there's something there. But, she brushes it off because she hasn't seen you in a long time and maybe that's all it is.

"Oh, so that hasn't changed." Molly laughs softly.

Molly and you get talking, catching up. You mostly ask about Molly to avoid talking about yourself. But, Molly has always been the mom friend. The caretaker of the two of you. You’ve never been one to want to talk about yourself, but you’re quieter than normal. You were living in San Francisco. There's a story there and you seem happy yet you aren't saying much. Maybe you’ve changed more than Molly thinks you have but it seems weird.

"Okay, that's enough about me. Tell me about you." Molly takes a sip of her coffee and you nearly stiffen in your seat. "What happened?"

Your voice sticks in the back of your throat and Jason actively sees your eyes go distant. Talking about the stuff with him is easy, he didn't know you before. There's no worry of disappointing him. None of this was your fault, but a part of you thinks telling Molly, will make Molly disappointed. Gar reminded you of Molly. Too kind for the world. Gives that look when something bad happens that you hate so much. And you tug down the sleeves of your hoodie. Jason rests a hand on your knee under the table, you looking back at him as if it snaps you out of your haunting thoughts. He offers you a grin and then a subtle shrug.

"Uh..." You shake your head. "I was, uh, I-I was living with this guy, foster care, and he moved us to San Francisco." You nod your head, trying to find a way to lie. "Uh, he was kind of down and out. He had something wrong with him." You roll your eyes, knowing that's an easy way to put it and then you come up with the lie. "He wasn't in any place to, uh, to care for anyone. I guess, so he called this guy he knew which was Dick and that's how I ended up meeting Jason. Dick already took him in so, ya know, that's kind of it, I guess."

Molly nods her head and she always knows when you’re lying. You have a bad poker face. And Jason can see Molly wanting to ask more questions, so he interjects, squeezing your knee before placing his hand on the table.

"Yeah, Dick wasn't so bad. If foster parents or shit got overwhelmed or financial shit came up, he'd offer a place. Wasn't all bad." Jason shakes his head and you swear he's the best person you’ve ever met. He's also a better liar.

Molly's brows furrow and she can't tell when Jason lies. He's better at it. "So, Bruce sent you to live with him and then you happened to get sent there, too?"

"Yeah, Dick was adopted by Bruce." Jason states. "So, kind of fit. Dick picked her up like a month later."

"Yeah, he just brought me back and Jason has been up my ass ever since." You send him a smirk before offering him a thankful nod and a nudge with your knee.

"He get you into trouble, too?" Molly asks, a teasing smile coming to her face.

"I didn't get you into that much trouble." Jason defends with a laugh.

"How many times were we chased by the cops?" Molly quips.

"Oh, there's a story there, share." You beam.

"He was teaching me how to get the hubcaps off cars." Molly's eyes widen slightly as if to be taunting Jason.

"Fucking hubcaps." You grit your teeth as you let out a sigh.

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "And she didn't get fucking caught, did you, Molly?"

"You got caught robbing cars?" Molly asks.

"Look, I tripped and the pavement was wet, okay? It's the city's fault!" You laugh.

"The city's fault," Molly repeats with the shake of her head.

"And hey, she got me into trouble." Jason lets out a huff and you glare at him. "You told me to turn Dick blue! Or that time we were eavesdropping but I was doing it to make fun of you and Rachel was giving me a death glare for fucking two days when she caught us. That time you got me to try and sneak out after Dick enforced a curfew just so we could go to a midnight premiere of a movie!" Jason shrugs his arm over the back of his chair as he faces you.

You beam as you laugh because getting him in trouble with Dick is one of your favorite pastimes. He makes it so easy. "Okay and what about the Nerf war you started and Dick nailed all of us later that night? Or that time you said it would be funny to change all of the passcodes to fucking 42069 or when it was your idea to bookmark the weirdest out-of-context shit we could think of on all the shared electronics? And turning Dick blue, was technically your idea, I just told you to do it."

"What...what did you bookmark?" Molly asks hesitantly.

Jason gains a smirk, snickering it himself. "Use your imagination."

"It was not porn." You assure her. "We just wanted Dick to have some serious questions and boy did he."

"See, it was fun." Jason defends his stance.

"You ever do that to Bruce?" You questions.

"Oh, I did bookmark porn." Jason cackles while Molly groans and you let out a scoff.

"Of course you did." Molly nods her head.

The conversation continues, Jason and you bouncing back and forth with stories, almost all of them about harassing Dick. But you both tell stories about Gar and Rachel, too. Movie nights and video games. Molly is attentive and the entire time, she grows more confused about your dynamic. Molly's known Jason long enough now and she deems them fairly close but she's never seen him like this before. Not with anyone. And Molly remembers how you were and this is new, too. She isn't going to badger either of you but she definitely takes notice in how Jason's hand keeps dodging under the table every so often and you look at him every single time.

"Here." Molly hands over her phone over to you. "Put in your number."

You take the phone with gentle hands, typing away and then Molly gets a glimpse at the fading ligature scars as your sleeves fall down. Molly looks directly at Jason and he just shakes his head quickly, silently pleading with her not to bring it up. You're having a good time. If Molly brings it up, Jason knows you will shut down as you fumble for another lie. He doesn't want this exchange to go that way. You're long-lost friends and you will tell her in your own time but now is clearly not when you want to discuss any of it. And Molly accepts the plea.

"Here.” You smile softly, handing the phone back to Molly.

"I’ll text you." Molly nods softly and she swallows her questions.

"Well, we should probably head out. Bruce has a thing for us later." Jason clears his throat, standing from his seat.

You look at your phone and know it's because Jason will want to get a sparring session in before he goes on patrol. "Forgot about that." You stand with Jason while Molly follows suit.

The two of you hug quickly, saying your goodbyes before Jason and you head for the door.

He didn't know Molly was your friend. You went through your social media and archived those posts before Jason followed you. It was easier that way, you told yourself. It's why you also soft-blocked her because while you wanted to reach out, the idea of doing so and her knowing you were alive somewhere was terrifying. You were terrified she'd be mad, never forgive you for it. That's not Molly but it was scary anyway. So, Jason didn't know. But, you find yourself eternally grateful anyway. And you think he's the only one who would have noticed your apprehension about talking.

Jason and you get to the bike. Jason gets on first while you stand off to the side. Jason is ready to go but you’re still watching him, your helmet on your hip. You’re looking at him and sometimes, you give him this stare where Jason thinks you might be able to see through him. Like, maybe you can see every thought that passes through his head. It almost makes him want to push. Just almost because he can never decipher exactly what the look means.

"What? Not getting on?" Jason asks, securing his helmet on his head.

"Thank you." You let out a breath. "You didn't have to cover for me."

Jason shrugs his shoulders and he knows the look isn't one of thanks because you don't get it every time he does something for you. That's not it either. "'Know you don't like talking about that shit. And you clearly didn't want to."

He wishes he had someone that would cover for him because sometimes, giving the same damn spiel about his mom and dad and uncle just gets a little tiring. That's why he always handles it nonchalantly. Not having to air out dirty laundry and baggage is a privilege and Jason thinks you should have that privilege, even if it's just for today.

"Yeah, but thanks. I don't think anyone would have been as quick as you were about it."

Jason nods his head. "Hey, look, I'm just glad you got your friend back." He'll always cover for you if you want him to.

"Yeah, now I have you, Gar, Molly, and Krypto." Your smile is so bright Jason thinks it could light up all of Gotham.

"He's still a dog." Jason quips back.

"He's still the bestest boy out of all of you." You hold your head up high, popping your helmet on your head.

"If you fucking call me the bestest boy, I will stop fucking talking to you."

"Awwww, you seem the type to have a praise kink though." You quip, getting on the back as Jason lets out a scoff, his words nearly lodging in his throat.

"Not according to my notes from last night." Jason chuckles. "That'd be you." He turns his head to look back at you and he's thankful for the helmet hiding the burning of his cheeks.

You slide your face shield down. "Oh, so you're taking notes?"

Jason nearly chokes on his own laugh. "Fuck off. You ready?"

"I guess." You mock him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

Back at Wayne Manor, the two of you change into athletic wear and meet in the training room. You spar as per usual. Jason beats you every time. But you’re getting better. Every time you spar, Jason finds himself impressed because you pick up a lot on what he does and then mimic it. It's not helping you in sparring him, but he's completely confident it will help you in any real fight with anyone else. It's smart.

After your showers, Jason starts food for the both of them. You help as much as Jason will let you. This is his element and you find it endearing. You watch him and listen when he tells the story of how Alfred taught him. He's so airy about it, enthusiastic, and a little sad. He didn't know Alfred very long before he died but he clearly meant a lot to Jason. And you think you could listen to him all night if he'll keep talking.

Once dinner is done, you, Jason, and Bruce eat together. You and Jason mostly talk about meeting up with Molly and Jason learning from Alfred because he decided to bake cookies at four in the morning and woke him up. It's actually the first time you’re seeing Bruce in this light and for the first time, you kind of understand Jason's view of him. Just kind of. He doesn't seem so bad.

After dinner, you and Jason do the dishes. Jason washes while you dry. Jason glances over to you every so often and some of this almost makes him feel uneasy. It's easy with you and it feels normal but easy and normal aren't things he normally gets to experience. He's a vigilante superhero. That's not normal or easy but this feels that way with you. Cooking dinner, doing the dishes. He wonders if this will always be like this. Just him and you doing the dishes before patrol. And he gets this small hint of a smile at the thought of it because he almost has a feeling of security in thinking about the future with you.

And then you snap him from his thoughts, picking up your leg and bending your knee to kick him in the butt. Your laugh reverberates against the walls and Jason's heart skips at the sound. And he has to laugh with you, splashing the soapy water at you.

"Fuck you." Jason chortles, his nose scrunching.

"Time and place, Jay." You beam up at him and Jason gains his signature smirk, licking his lips.

"Got time before patrol." Jason states.

"Don't wanna wear you out." You quip as Jason hands you the last plate.

"Like to see you try, babe.” Jason wiggles his brows while your cheeks start to burn. “Hey," Jason shakes his head. "You wanna see if you can come out with us tonight?" Jason asks.

He's been wanting to ask all week. You’ve seemed to be enjoying your break away from being a vigilante and Jason doesn't really understand that part of you. But you did say you'd want to get back out there. He figures maybe tonight could be the night.

"Why? You want me to come?" You flash him a grin as he dries his hands and tosses the towel to the side.

Jason looks up with his eyes, a smirk dancing over his lips. "Maybe."

You shake your head, resting the dry plate to the side as you turn around, leaning your back against the counter. "Maybe another time, bring it up to Bruce." You smirk at him and you are wanting to get back out there. It's only been a few weeks but you miss it. That night with Jason, last week was so fun, sure, Bruce will be there. But it's something and you get can back to feeling useful if Bruce will let you.

"Yeah?" Jason's heart jumps to his throat and wants to reach and grab your waist.

"Yeah, kicking ass with you is fun." You give him a wild smile and he thinks he's going to combust.

"Alright, I'll ask." Jason nods his head and you get the sight a sheepish but accomplished smile on his lips. He's just so damn cute. "Wanna check out the Batcave before we have to get ready?"

"Uh, yeah." You state quickly. "Finally."

Jason takes your hand in his and leads you to the grandfather clock in the living room. Jason changes the time on the clock making the grandfather clock slide across the floor, leading into a stone hallway. You find that to be a weird point of access but it is hidden and kind of cool. You'll give Bruce that.

On the walk through the cave, going deeper under the house, Jason gives you a rundown of the rules. No joyrides in the Batmobile, don't tell anyone or show anyone. Simple rules that you already figured but Jason was told to make sure to go over them even though Jason knows Bruce will later anyway.

"This is it." Jason stretches his arms out as you enter the Batcave, passing by some tech and a hallway where you can see the Batmobile sitting.

It really is a cave. You aren't sure exactly what you expected, but you didn't think the cave thing was literal. And yet. Here you are, standing in a massive cave under Wayne Manor. There are things from the Riddler, Scarecrow, Mr. Freeze, and several other of Gotham's most notorious almost on display throughout the cave. You spot a dinosaur off to the side and you almost ask. You almost ask what the fuck but decide it's probably better you don't know why Bruce has a T-rex in the Batcave.

"It's literally a cave under his house." You state in awe as you reach one of the display cases that holds the Robin suit.

"Yeah." Jason chuckles, looking to his shoes and back to you. "Bats and caves go hand in hand."

"I guess." You laugh softly as you eye the Robin suit. "Your suit always like this?"

"Yeah." Jason nods his head. "Only comes out when we're out or when I'm traveling. Bruce's in another case hidden away." Jason explains.

"Interesting." You nod your head. It's weird seeing it on display but now you get the display room back at the tower. It was a Bruce thing. "And the batcomputer?" You ask, turning around to see a giant computer sitting in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, that's where a lot of it goes down. Researching, tracking those freaks down." Jason boasts and he does love this gig.

You think he's cute when he talks about it. His entire face lights up every single time. It means the entire world to him. And you wonder why, if it's more than just him wanting to be helpful and wanting to feel useful. But, you decide maybe she won't ask.

"This is so sick," You beam back at him. "Batman whatever, but this shit is cool." You’re amazed, looking around. You never thought you'd be in the actual Batcave at any point in your life.

"Right?" Jason agrees, leaning his lower back against the desk under the computer screens.

You walk up to him and stand right in front of him, Jason eying you carefully. It's as if every day, he shows you something new and you like him that much more. You see parts of him no one else is ever allowed to and you’re seeing the Batcave which might be Bruce's but it's Jason's, too. And you like that this is how it is. You like where you are and how you are. You like him, all of him. But you look at him with a satisfied and happy grin as you look around the Batcave and the dangers of it all settle into the marrow of your bones.

You all lost Donna. You know already. But seeing the Batcave is another reminder of what he does as Robin. No powers. Just human doing his best out there to help people. And that part scares you. Worried he won't come home one day. So, you close the distance between you and swear you won't ever tell him that.

You smirk, instead, Jason's eyes darting you up and down. "What's up?" Jason nods his head, his hands still gripping the desk under him.

You shrug, cupping his face before you press your lips to his. It sucks the breath right out of him and he doesn't miss a beat, bringing his hands to your hips and yanking you as close to him as possible. Your mouths intertwine into one and Jason lives for this. It's the not talking shit that you do. It’s the way you can kiss him now and know that's it.

You kiss and then sometimes more happens, or sometimes this is all it is. And that works for him because he's allowed to like you from this distance. He's allowed to let his heart and his blood adjust to the idea of it. To the idea of trusting another person like this. It allows him time to be careful with himself and with you. He can be sure you won't hurt each other like this. And he loves the way your mouth moves with his.

You pull away, your hands lightly gliding over his shoulders. "Don't do anything fucking stupid tonight, Jay." There's a flicker of worry that crosses your eyes, for just a split second and Jason can see it.

Jason squeezes your hips, a sign of reassurance. "Of course not." Jason chuckles. "Got a plan."

"Mhm." You hum. "Always got a plan."

"Always, babe." Jason furrows his brows, letting a smirk come to his lips. "Don't worry so much.".

You shrug a shoulder. "Someone has to."

Jason laughs softly, squeezing your hips again. "I'll be fine." Jason moves his hand to your chin moving your face closer to his again. "I got it." His voice goes a little graveled before he kisses you again.

Jason and Bruce get ready to leave not long after Jason and you come back from the Batcave. This leaves you alone in the Manor again. You don't mind it much, but it gives you a little bit more space to think and you were never a huge fan of thinking.

Your mind goes back to the tower that night it was attacked. And you wonder what would happen if someone figured out Bruce was Batman and then attacked the manor. What if it happens when they're not home? What if it's people like CADMUS? Where there's a lot of them and they're strong and you’re outnumbered? What if they want metahumans? The panic starts to set in so you go to your room and lock the door, grabbing a few of your knives.

You place one of the switchblades under your pillow, making sure it's locked before doing so. And then you place another in both of your nightstands, making sure there's always one around. Then you hide one on top of the fireplace in the middle of the room, just in case. When you’re done, you sit down with a knife in hand and pull out your phone.

You call Gar who, naturally answers after only a few rings. You talk every day still so you calling didn't send up any red flags. You kick off the conversation by asking how things are going and what he's up to. Gar asks the same back and you just say you’re kind of freaked yourself out a little and you’re trying to be honest about it. You know you’re just being paranoid but you’re freaked out anyway. So, Gar offers to stay on the phone with you until the Titans have to leave.

You keep in touch with the Titans regularly. Dick and Kory check in with you every so often to make sure everything is going okay. It's kind of nice actually. Being across the entire country and still having them on your side. You didn't really expect it but it is nice and you appreciate it. And talking with Gar is helping a little. So, when Gar says he has to go, you finds yourself getting up and grabbing your scrapbooking things before sitting back on the bed and turning on a movie.

It's after three by the time Jason and Bruce get home. You can hear them come in so you get up to unlock and up open your door, assuming Jason will find his way to you once he's changed and showered.

It's less than fifteen later when Jason appears in your doorway. Jason gets a look at you sitting cross-legged on your bed, your scrapbook stuff scattered about your entire bed and a knife sitting just off to the side. His brow quirks at it but he thinks maybe you needed it for something. And he goes back to thinking about you being beautiful and content like this. In your element with a movie on, in pajamas. And he can't help but smile softly.

"Hey." Jason says, keeping his stance. But his voice is a little groggy and he hates the way it sounds.

"How'd it go?" You ask, barely glancing at him to not seem too eager to see him.

But there's silence that follows. Seeing you, it brought him a sense of relief and comfort. A stark contrast to what he's actually feeling right about now. Patrol did not go well. And he can't lie because you'll look over at him fully eventually and call his bluff. So, instead, he hangs his head and lets the silence swallow him hole.

You look over, not liking the silence and your entire face falls at the sight of him You quickly get up from the bed and close the distance between you. It's hard. You've been injured together and you see him with bruises all the time, but it's hard. He's in pain, taking hits and getting hurt. And it hurts to see him beat up and feeling beat up. At least most nights when he comes home with a bruise, he's got that cocky grin and some story about kicking someone's ass. But, that's not the look he's giving you right now and it hurts.

"What the hell happend?" You ask, looking over his face, your hand lightly coming up to cup his jaw.

There's a light red bruise hugging his opposite jaw, a purple bruise starting right under his eye, and, blood is still dripping down the side of his face and his lip. There's a cut on his neck and Bruce was there. How did he even manage to get hurt?

Jason shrugs, a dullness in his usually vibrant eyes. "Did not go to plan." He looks exhausted.

You know he hasn't been sleeping much but this is bad. He looks defeated and you don't understand how he's managing to get so beat up when Bruce is supposed to be beside him. It doesn't make any sense.

"Fucks sake, Jay." You shake your head. "Come on." You reach down for his hand and drag him to the bathroom that sits between your rooms.

Jason takes a seat on the counter directing you to one of the cabinets that has all of the first aid supplies.

Jason's hands are shaking as he tries to calm down, resting them in his lap as he waits. A part of him doesn't even want your help right now. He wants to fight this. Fight everything and everyone around him, it should have been fine tonight. He's done this a million times but then he gets so fucking lost in his head, he loses it. It's not fair. And he's terrified Bruce is gonna catch on and take Robin away. How is he supposed to be Robin if he can't fight crime without getting hurt?

"Are you okay?" You ask, grabbing an alcohol pad to start cleaning the cut on his forehead.

"I'm fine." Jason grits his teeth.

"What happened?" You clean up the blood softly before moving up the cut, Jason barely even flinching with the sting.

"Just some fucking bullshit." The worst part is, he doesn't even know what actually happened. He just knows he paused again and all he can feel through his entire bloodstream is shame.

"That's descriptive," You state, glancing to his face and searching for any sign of anything other than exhaustion but you come up empty.

"It doesn't fucking matter, I fucked up again." Jason's scoff is bitter while you grab another alcohol pad and start cleaning the cut on his neck. Jason hisses in return, scrunching his nose.

"Did you?" You ask, looking to his eyes and then back to the cut.

"Clearly."

"Just because you got hurt doesn't mean you fucked up, Jay." You keep your voice level and calm, knowing this side of him all too well.

"Bruce said I did." Jason mutters and you pull away, tossing the alcohol pad in the trash.

"What do you mean?" Your brows furrow as you grab a gauze pad, lightly holding it to his head to stop the bleeding.

"Didn't listen, went off on this guy before Bruce was ready."

"Okay, so what happened?" You press.

You don't get it. Why would he do that? He's capable but why wouldn't he just listen to Bruce? It's not like this is new to either of them. It doesn't make any sense.

"Doesn't fucking matter." His voice is snippy but defeated and you get a glimpse at his shaky hands.

"Jay, hey, look, I'm worried about you, okay?" You eye him carefully deciding not to ask why he would do that. He's beating himself enough without you badgering him about his decision-making. "Your hands are still shaking." You offer a subtle nod, placing your free hand on top of his.

"Just an adrenaline dump." Jason brushes it off. He doesn't need you disappointed and worrying too much.

"Are you sure?" You aren't buying it. His hands shook like this after Deathstroke.

"Yeah, I'm fucking fine, alright? It's just bullshit, should have had him and I don't know. I don't know what happened."

It's not you. It'll never be you that's the problem but he can't stand the way he can't do anything anymore without being paralyzed with fear. And he hates how he can feel the burning in the back of his eyes because it's like he's losing his ability to be good at the one thing he always felt good enough for. Robin. And who he is if he can't do that anymore? And he’s just so damn mad at himself.

You nod softly. "Okay, well, if you're not, you can tell me. I won't tell Bruce." You try your best to reason with him.

You’re worried. And when he looks like this, every part of you wants to fight the entire universe for him. All you want is to make it all go away for him. And you just want him to be okay again.

Jason thinks about telling you. You won't judge him or be mad like Bruce. You'll nod and tell him it's not his fault. But he can't do that to you because he knows you worry about him. You’ve never kissed him before patrol before. He's not that dense.

"I'm fine, I don't know what happened, really." Jason urges and he gains a smile, placing his hand over yours that's holding the gauze. "Don't worry so fucking much."

"I'm always gonna worry about you, Jay," You roll your eyes and grab the butterfly stitches. And you pause for a second, sucking in a breath and decide to bite down your question. But Jason can see it picking at you as you go to place the stitches.

"What?" Jason questions, looking up at you.

You shake your head and you want to ask him if he's ever thought about taking a break to take care of himself but you think maybe he'll take it the wrong way right now. He's beating himself up enough and asking that now is going to make it worse. But, you help but can't worry about him and there's something off. You can see it across his face.

"I want to ask you something but I think you're gonna take it the wrong way and push me away." You state, keeping your stare on the cut.

He's looking up at you, watching as his heart stops in his chest. He doesn't want to push you away but if it's a question you’re worried about, he knows he's not going to like it. Maybe he will push. And that's not very fair to you.

"I won't." Jason states, letting a breath fall harshly into the air.

"Promise? Because I don't mean anything by it." You tread lightly and you know him. You’re going to ask and he's going to get mad.

"Okay." Jason’s voice is flat.

You place the final stitch before you make eye contact with him and place your hand over his in his lap. They're cold and Jason's hands are never cold.

"Have....have you thought...about taking a break from Robin?"

Jason feels his stomach fall a hundred stories. His heart stutters and everything feels cold. How could you possibly ask him that? Just because a break works for you, doesn't mean it'll work for him. You know how much Robin means to him and you’re asking him anyway. How can you ask that of him?

"You don't want me to be Robin?!" Jason barks, his brows pulling into a harsh line and you knew he'd take it the wrong way.

"No." You shake your head. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm just--"

"What?! Bruce thought I needed a fucking break!" Jason pulls his hands from yours and you take a step back. "Dick wouldn't fucking let me and look where that lead us! Taking a fucking break doesn't do fucking shit!"

"Hey, no, that's not what I'm saying, Jay. They forced a break onto you!" You yell back. "I mean you, have you thought about taking a break for you? On your own terms. Not for them. Fuck them. You know damn well I am on your side 100% of the time."

"But you're asking! You don't think I'm good enough for--"

"Shut up." You cut him off. "Don't put that shit on me because I didn't say anything. I asked you a question. Don't try and read between lines that aren't there. I am asking you because I am worried and I know you don't like it but that's just too damn bad, Jay. You ARE good enough. I'm taking a break and what? Do you think I'm not good enough for it?"

Jason pauses. "No...you are." Jason scoffs. "But I didn't fucking ask you to!"

"I know! And I'm not asking you to." You shake your head. "I don't even know if I think you need a break, but if I did, I still would never ask you to take a break. It's not my place to ask that of you. I--" You feel your heart skip and you are terrified of losing him. That's what this whole thing boils down to. You can't lose him. "I just..."

"What?" Jason asks but this time, he lacks some of the venom, getting the sense something's going on.

"I...I just..." You stutter because you have so much to say and none of the words will come out. They stick to your vocal cords as if it's a lifeline to everything you’ve come to adore over the last few months. "You....you go out every night with Bruce and...." The lump grows in your throat as your brows furrow and Jason feels the guilt seep into his blood. Maybe your question wasn't about him. "I don't know." You shake your head. "You're human, ya know? No powers and...I know that, obviously. Deathstroke and shit but uh...I don't know."

"What?" Jason pushes and there's a fear that creeps into his voice.

You almost tell him you’re worried about him not coming home. You almost tell him that if he goes out one night and doesn't come home, you'd lose it entirely. You almost tell him he's it for you. But, none of those words make their way to the surface because what you two are is fun and what you are isn't too pressured and what you are allows you both to exist in a simple bubble. What you are allows you both a safe distance from pain.

Jason thinks this is gonna be it. This is gonna be where you finally say the words and it changes everything. He's not ready to commit to it. It still scares the ever-living shit out of him and he also knows that turning you down again would be miserable. To go back to being just friends? Nothing else? That is agonizing. So, he sits nearly paralyzed, waiting to see where this going.

"I'm just worried about you, Jay." You stick to your usual form of concern and Jason can't figure out why his heart just fell into the pit of his stomach.

Jason lets out a breath that’s almost painful. He needs a way to reassure you that he’s fine. But, he swears that’s going to be harder than it should be. You see through every piece of bullshit he’s thrown at you. But, he has to try anyway because Jason has to believe he’ll be fine and that he’s just a little off. It’ll all be fine in the end. He just needs a little more time.

"Don't worry so much." Jason states and extends his arm out for you. You close the distance between you, standing between his legs. "I'm fine, alright? You don't have shit to worry about. I'm just a little off my game. It's not a thing."

You rest your forehead against his and Jason lets out a relieved breath. "I, um...." You pause for a second. "Just really care about you. Not sure what I would do if I lost you, ya know?"

He has never had anyone so afraid of losing him before. It's foreign. He doesn't know how to process it or what to do with it. He can't stop being a vigilante and deep down, he knows you would never ask him to stop and he doesn't even really believe you want him to. But, you make valid points and he also knows that if it were you coming like he does, he'd be worried, too.

Jason pulls away, cupping your face with is hands. "You're not gonna lose me, alright?" Jason gets a cheeky grin. "I'm fine."

He wants to push and run and flee. He wants to get the hell away from this conversation. It's the exposure of being a little vulnerable. Before, he could get used to it but now you both have that added layer of benefits and you’re saying you’re terrified of him dying and he feels so exposed.

Sun exposure can lead to skin cancer. Smoke exposure can lead to lung cancer, COPD, and smoke inhalation, all of which are deadly. Exposure to elements while being unprepared is also deadly. Exposure is deadly and he feels that fear knocking and pounding at the back of his head and against his rib cage.

And yet he finds himself wondering how someone who also hates being so exposed, just like him, is finding it in yourself to expose that part of you. You don't stutter much around him anymore but you just did, a lot, which means you were nervous. Exposed but you did it anyway for him and he doesn't fucking get it. It might as well be rocket science at this point.

And if he weren't so damn terrified of exposure and commitment and everything around him, he'd tell you he's afraid of losing you, too.

So, instead of running or pushing like he so desperately wants to do, he rests his forehead back against yours while your eyes close. Your thumbs run over his thighs and you fall into a silence as if knowing there should be more said in this conversation. But neither one of you are willing to say it.

Jason's heart is beating against his ribs and he thinks his heart is directly beating in search for yours. Maybe it's always been beating for a place to call home and it longs for yours because you’re the closest thing to home he's ever felt. And he wishes he could just tell you that.

But where words fail, actions can speak.

He pulls away, and lifts your chin, kissing your lips gently and softly. He can feel you smile against him and it brings him a sense of ease. The night still weighs heavy on his chest and in his stomach but you kiss him back, just as gently, and it makes the night seem a little easier to swallow. The way you kiss him, makes it a little easier for him to swallow the words he wishes he could say.

"What was that for?" You ask softly because he's never kissed you like that before.

"Thanks for giving a shit about me." Jason lets out a breath.

You let out a laugh, your nose scrunching. "Always." You suck in a breath and you want to understand every part of him. Jason isn’t all that hard to figure out but there are some things you realize you’ve never asked. And all you ever want to do is to be there for him and understand him, just as he does for you. "Can I ask you something?" You ask, pulling away to finish tending to the cut on his neck.

"Sure." Jason tilts his head so you can have better access to the cut.

"Why does Robin mean so much to you?" You glance to him, seeing his brows pull together in a harsh line. "I'm just wondering. I never asked before."

Jason lets out a breath. "I get to help people." Jason states. "Get to kickass with Batman every night, it's the sickest gig in the world." Jason chortles and his laugh makes your heart warm.

"That it? Get to kick some ass helping people?" You ask but the corner of your mouth is tugged up.

"I'm good at it." Jason states as you finishes placing the gauze pad.

His entire life, he's never felt good enough but he's always had this heart of gold. He's always just wanted to help and be helpful. That's it. And Robin lets him do that in such a big way. He doesn't even have the right words to describe it and a part of him doesn't even want to because he thinks it might sound lame out loud. But, he can see you offering him a soft smile.

"Yeah, you are the better Robin." You laugh softly.

"Yeah, thanks." Jason chuckles softly and he plays a big game but it's hard filling in Dick's shoes sometimes. "Just feel fucking important I guess. Like what I do matters."

You pause, your brows furrowing and you’re making it your mission to always make sure he feels important. You place your hands on his thighs while Jason's hands come to your hips. "I am not Robin but, uh, you're important to me, too, ya know? Even without Robin."

Heat rises to Jason's cheeks and he never really knows what to say when you say something like that. "Thanks." He clears his throat because he's worried this might go to a talk of sorts with the comment and he doesn't want it to go there. It can't go there. "What were you working on?"

"Scrapbook." You state and you decide to let him switch the conversation.

"What's it about?"

"It's a secret," You tease him, looking back at him before you grab a wet rag and start cleaning the cut on his lip.

"Come on," Jason groans, smirking under your touch. "Can't even tell me?"

"Nope." You pop the p and your mouth is tugged into a grin.

"Wow, thought there were no secrets between us." The sarcasm drips from his words.

You pull away and grin at him. "Oh, that are plenty of secrets, Jason Todd."

"Oh yeah, like what?" Jason's voice drops and he knows what you’re doing.

"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you." Your eyes widen at him.

He wants to hear all of your secrets. All the good, the bad, and the ugly. Jason holds many secrets close to his chest and you do, too but he wants to know yours. He'd be willing to sit and tell you more of his if you can do the same. You’re the only one he's ever felt that way with. He wants to know every detail.

"Tell me one." His voice goes soft, catching you off guard.

You rest the rag in the sink, placing your hands back on his thighs. "Then you have to tell me one." Your eyes narrow slightly, a smirk dancing over your lips.

Jason gets a smirk, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips. "Deal."

You think all of your secrets are about him. He knows everything else. You’ve told him it all whether he knows it or not. The only ones you have left are the ones about him and those are the ones most guarded. They are yours. They stay locked behind your ribcage to keep you and Jason like this. Flirt and fun and no strings attached. But, he's got these big green eyes that make your secrets want to spill out carelessly.

"Okay, are we having a discussion about these secrets or not?" You ask bluntly and you want to know what's safe to tell him now. You don't want the talk yet. What you're doing is fun and easy. You don't want to complicate it just yet.

Jason shakes his head. "Nope." He doesn't want the talk either. This is comfortable. He wants to be comfortable a little bit longer with you.

"It was always you." Your voice is so quiet Jason almost doesn't hear you and Jason just eyes you as your eyes divert to your hands slightly gripping his thighs.

If things didn't get complicated with Rose and the attack on the tower, and if he wouldn't have pushed you away and if you wouldn't have run, you would have told him. You would have just said the words but all of those things happened. And while you don't want that conversation right now because things would change too much too soon, you do want him to know. He beats himself up when things go wrong and Jason thinks he's not worthy of being cared for or important to other people. He deserves to know.

His heart nearly stops in his chest. He racks his brain, trying to figure out exactly what that means because it cannot mean what he thinks it means. But he's almost positive there can't be anything else you mean by that. He remembers every conversation you’ve ever had and you wouldn't tell him something he wouldn't remember. The only thing that comes to his head is him and Gar. And that thought is banging and pounding against his ribcage, trying to thrash its way out into the open air and ask. To verify that's true. But, he can't. His ribcage stays closed and locked and guarded.

"Don't dig into it." You state as you finally look back at him and see the gears in his head start to move. "Your turn."

Jason bounces too many secrets around on his head. He could tell her so many. He's thought about kissing you since that day in the training room where you told him what happened to you. He wishes he would have kissed you both of those nights in the bathroom. He should have asked you to leave with him. But all of those seem too heavy and he knows you will want to dig into them. That's not fair to you. He won't do that. And that’s why he doesn’t tell you it should have been you, it’s always been you. You deserve to know, too but you’ll dig and he knows you will. That’s not fair. So, he picks something else that's still honest, but not something that'll bother you.

"I like when you help me like this. Never liked when Bruce or Alfred would offer." Jason’s voice is soft but a little hesitant.

You offer him a gentle smile and you actually expected him to say something less serious, something more of a joke. You were okay with that. So, this is surprising.

"I'll always clean you up." You laugh softly.

Jason isn't gonna talk about it. Not even that, it's too much tonight so instead, he pulls you closer to him before sliding his hands up to your face and bringing your lips to his.

Over the next few weeks, things continue as normal. You and Jason continue your new arrangement and it's going well. You've managed to keep it between the two of you, not even realizing Bruce and Molly have definitely figured something was going on. You're existing in your own bubble together. Bruce upped your training so he knows what you’re capable of. He's happy to have you along on patrol but he's going to make sure you’re safe just as he did with Jason and Dick.

Training with Bruce is different than Dick and Jason. Dick was defensive, Jason is offensive, and Bruce is a mix of both as well as observing. But, you follow along with him just fine and Bruce has you fitted for a suit because if someone is going on patrol with him, they need extra protection. And you’ve felt comfortable enough on the bike, with Jason's teaching, that you applied for a motorcycle license and are just waiting for the all-clear. Jason assures you that they approve most people and you don't need a standard license to even apply. So, you’re not worried.

Now though, you’re hanging out with Molly at Molly's apartment in Crime Alley. You've been hanging out a lot more and you feel so happy. You were best friends your entire lives and you missed her. It's why you never mentioned her by name. Keeping her name out of your mouth, kept the ache of missing her at a distance. But you're back together and Molly missed you, too. She always worried you found yourself dead somewhere. She's relieved you were just across the country.

"I missed this place." You let a sigh, opening the take-out box.

"I swear, we'd eat there every weekend. I haven't had this is forever." Molly laughs softly. It was your favorite place, eating there hurt.

"Really? This was the first place I wanted to hit when I got back. Jason and me went the very next day I was here." You beam.

"Oh, you took Jason to your favorite take-out place?" Molly asks with a grin, her sitting down and opening her own take-out back.

"Yeah! He needs to experience it, too." You defend. "Why?"

"Just funny." Molly laughs softly. "Seems nothing has changed though. Getting the same order."

"And the place looks the exact same." You gesture your fork at Molly. "Tim still helping out, just as a full-time employee now."

"Yeah, instead him running orders in between doing his homework," Molly laughs and Tim is the son of the owners of the restaurant.

The three of you aren't friends by any means but you've had your fair share of conversations over the years. Tim was always in the restaurant when you and Molly would pop in and the natural order of things would be to talk to people around the same age.

"Feels so homey." You smile softly.

Your phone vibrates and Molly has noticed your face lights up when you check it. You start typing and there's this smile on your lips that warms Molly's heart. You’ve always been a little cynical, just a little. But you were also happy. It's just, Molly hasn't seen you like this and you’ve been different. In some ways a good different and in others, not so much.

"How are you? It's been a few weeks and I haven't asked in a while. I wanted to give you some space." Molly’s voice is kind as she starts on her food.

"I'm really good, actually." You answer honestly.

You’re still having nightmares and you look over your shoulder still. But, you don't feel nearly as paranoid. The nightmares are slowing down. You’re getting a little more sleep. And then there's Jason. He makes you feel so at ease with everything.

"Good, you look happy." Molly’s smile is gentle and warm.

"Yeah..." You let out a soft sigh. You aren't sure you’ve ever been this happy as you type away as at a text which is of course just Jason asking what you and Molly are up to.

"So...you and Jason...?" Molly raises a brow at you.

"What about us?" You answer slowly, resting your phone on the table.

"You like him." Molly teases softly.

"Do I?" You quip.

"Yes. You have never been more obvious about something in your life." Molly laughs.

"What do you mean?" You snort with the shake of your head.

It's not so much that you care that Molly knows. It's that you know Molly and you know Molly is going to have a whole lot of questions as to why you haven't told him yet. In order for you to answer that honestly, you would have to tell Molly about Deathstroke which means Robin and you can't do that.

"Well, no one calls him Jay so there's that. You two are always touching each other in some way which is very uncharacteristic of the both of you. The way you guys joke with each other. You talk about him a lot. You talk about the other people but not like you talk about Jason. Then there's the way you look at—"

"Okay." You cut your off, getting the point. You didn't realize you made it so obvious. "I get it."

"So?" Molly presses.

"Yeah, he just...." You pause and a sad smile comes to your lips. "I really, really like him and he's such a brat, ya know? But...I don't know. He's...good. I don't know, he gets me and I get him. It's like we don't even have to talk to get it, I guess." Your brows furrow. "I don't know."

"He likes you, too you know?" Molly pokes at her food.

"How do you figure?" You chuckle and you’re always hoping he does but you highly doubt that’s a detail Jason told Molly.

"He watches you. Like, always. When he says something he thinks is funny, he immediately looks at you to see if you laugh which, by the way, you always do and Jason isn't that funny." Molly teases and it gets a laugh out of you. "He's really protective of you, I mean, he is with most but it's different with you, remember when we saw that move last week?"

"Yes?" You question and you’re not entirely sure what that has to do with anything.

It went as it always does when you go to see a movie. You tease Jason about how few movies he’s seen and he calls you a nerd and tells you to get out more. As far as you remember, it went as it always does.

"There was a guy eyeing you and you were oblivious to it because you were too busy watching Jason but Jason was staring that guy down so hard, I thought Jason was going to walk over and hit him, the guy left. If looks could kill, that guy would have been dead. Also, don't tell him I told you this, okay?"

"Okay?"

"When he came back, he told me about this girl and I've never heard him talk like that about someone before. He said she drove him insane but was also one of the coolest people he's ever met. And he missed her. I kind of thought he was talking about Rose. Like he wasn't over her because he said he was excited this girl was coming to Gotham but then you walked into the coffee shop that day and I knew he was talking about you not Rose. So, for what it's worth, he likes you."

Jason looped Molly in about Rose when he got back. He didn't tell her much but he did tell her. So, when Jason was also talking about this other girl, Molly kind of figured it'd be Rose because Jason, as long as Molly has known him at least, hasn't been with many people. It's not all that shocking with his inability to let people in so Molly always thought it was Rose. But, she watches Jason and you and realizes all those good things she's heard, were always about you. Not Rose. And Molly, for one, thinks the two of you would be good together.

A soft, sheepish smile tugs at your lips as your heart burns in your chest. "I didn't realize he talked about me."

It's a little surprising since it's Jason. But, your heart warms with the idea of him telling anyone about you. And him being excited for you to be in Gotham with him.

"You know Jason, super open and great at communication." Molly laughs softly. "So, have you told him?"

You shake your head. "No..." You mutter as you take a drink of your drink.

"Why not!? You always tell people and he likes you, too." Molly groans and Jason, she completely understands not saying anything but you? Not so much.

"It's complicated." You let out a sigh knowing complicated is an easy way to put it.

"Life is too short and you like him, he likes you. What's so complicated?"

You run every reason through your head. Deathstroke, almost dying, Gar, Rose, not wanting to get hurt again. Not wanting to Jason to die for you and Jason not wanting you to die for him. The whole idea of a relationship is terrifying. You’re both a little bit of mess at this exact point in time. The endless trauma that seems to follow you both around. And friends with benefits is fun. There are several reasons why this is complicated but most of those you can’t tell her. But, you can tell her one reason.

"I....okay...I can't tell you everything and I'm asking you to not ask about everything, okay? It's not my shit to tell. I can't tell you without telling you everyone else's shit and that's not fair."

"Okay?" Molly nods her head slowly, her brows furrowing together, unsure what you could possibly mean by any of that.

"So, uh....you just have to take what I tell you and don't ask questions and do not dig, I know you love to dig into things, so please don't."

"Okay, but you're freaking me out." Molly forces a small laugh.

"It's fine. But, look, something happened and uh....we got hurt. And I kissed him." You cut out every other important detail, knowing that likely makes very little sense.

"You did?!"

"Yeah, and I uh, I don't know. We went back home and we helping each other out and he told me he couldn't. He had his reasons and I...I agreed with him enough, I guess. And he said, that I was into Gar and he was into Rose anyway it wouldn't work with us. And that was the end of it." You poke your food with a fork because maybe that conversation still stings a little bit.

"You did it again." Molly groans as she she shakes her head.

"Yep." You nod your head. "I know, I realized that later. I should have fought but I did like Gar and he liked Rose. Those were facts we both knew. So, I Iet him push and I ran. And now, I'm....worried if I tell him, he won't pick me again and that'll suck. I know I put Gar in that shitty situation and that's not fair but I don't want him to push again. It just sucked."

You’re not a pick-me person but it hurt anyway. And you know that the odds of Jason pushing again, after everything and with where you stand right now, are probably pretty slim. But, there is that chance because he kissed you back that night, too. He never said he didn’t like you. But, that’s also a very, very small reason for not telling him. You think you could suck up the fear of it if it weren’t for everything else but you can’t tell Molly that. You can just give her this one, miniscule reason.

"Right, but you let him. And I'm telling you he likes you. What's the worst that can happen if you tell him?" Molly shrugs her shoulders.

"We'd have to talk about it and neither of us want to." You chortle.

"So don't? You tell him and then he tells you and that can be the end of it, you don't need to have this whole contract discussed and signed about it."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "There is more to it but that's what I can tell you."

"We'll, regardless, you should tell him. You would be good together." Molly shrugs softly, a cheeky smile pulling at her lips.

"I will, I swear. But, we're just having fun right now and I think we're both comfortable here for now." You take a bite of your food with the shrug of your shoulders. "What about you?" You ask changing it back to Molly. "Seeing anyone?"

Molly laughs softly, getting the hint to switch subjects. "Kind of. There's a girl, Sheila."

“Oh, Sheila?” Your eyes widen. “Go on.” You urge with a wide smile.

When you get back of the Manor, you go looking for Jason. While things are getting better for you, they almost seemed to have stalled for Jason. He feels happy. That's not the issue. The issue is patrolling as Robin and then the lack of sleep. His nightmares are several times a week and he can't bring himself to sleep some nights. He lays with you and you fall asleep. He never expects you or wants you to stay up and suffer with him. Everything is just hard. And he's so angry about it.

He's scared of everything that moves sideways and he never used to be like that. He couldn't afford to be like that. All he does is feel weak and every time he fucks up on patrol, it gets worse. He feels that much more like a failure and disappointment to Bruce. Every time a nightmare hits, he feels worse. And he hates that his leg still hurts. It's not fair and he's fine, usually. He deals with it. But, there are some days, like today, when the world feels a little heavier.

"Hey." You greet him quietly as you walk into the library, Jason seated on the couch against the windows with a book open.

He looks over the book and he smiles, almost subconsciously. "Hey, how's Molly?"

"Good, we got food from that place I like." You smile softly as you walk further into the room. He's reading Frankenstein again and you think the bags under his eyes are darker today. "Reading, huh?" You tilt your head slightly to the right.

"Yeah," Jason answers plainly.

You sleep together nearly every night and Jason doesn't know, but you feel him awake sometimes. And when you try not to sleep in each other's rooms, usually one of you wakes up from a nightmare anyway and wanders into the other's room. More often than not, it's Jason coming into your room. And sometimes, you’re the one that goes into his room to wake him up because he's screaming so loud, it wakes you up in your own room. The only reason you aren't completely freaking out is because he's getting better about talking about his nightmares with you. But, it's clear it bothers him. You wish more than anything you knew how to help him.

"Loud?" You ask and that's one thing he adores and appreciates about you. You’re never afraid to ask him about it. And you never really have to. You know. He never has to tell you. No one knows him like you do.

"Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Jason shakes his head, a gentle smirk on his lips. "Nope."

"Okay." You smile at him. "I'll be right back." You spin on your heels and dart out of the room, leaving Jason a little confused.

He goes back to reading his book until you walk in, carrying your scrapbook supplies in both arms, you have a warm but wide smile tugging at your lips. You sit on the floor at the table in front of Jason. Jason watches you get your supplies spread across the table and that's another thing about you. You just join him. You accept him not talking about everything because he will. He always tells you what's going on with him eventually. But until he's ready, you just sit with him so he's never alone.

"I'll just do my thing and you can talk if you want to or read." You smile widely at him as you look over your shoulder.

Jason lets out a soft chuckle. "Can read out loud if you want."

"I think you just like to hear yourself talk." You chuckle, looking back at the table.

"And you don't?" Jason chortles.

"I didn't say I didn't," You laugh softly and you could listen to him read an instruction manual and still be entertained.

"Yeah, alright. Did you want context?"

"No, you can just read." You answer softly, leaning over the table to open to the page in scrapbook you were last working on. And Jason starts reading.

Jason continues to read out loud and you work on putting your page together. Jason looks over his book after every paragraph, not even realizing he's doing it so often. But he can see some of what you’re doing and you’re working a page that looks to be all of the Titans. He can see a picture of Dick and Gar laid out while there's another one of Rachel on the actual page. And he smiles softly. He just likes you so much and he is so aware of it. You’re in your own little bubble with him reading to you and he thinks this is how it should be because it's peaceful.

Jason has never known peace. Between how he grew up and the streets and Robin, peace isn't exactly in his life. He didn't even think he knew a life could have peace. But then he meets you and somewhere between the chaos of your lives and falling into comfort with you, he realizes he's at peace when you’re around.

He wakes up from a nightmare and there you are looking at him with soft eyes and a look of worry across your face. But one that wreaks of kindness and adoration. And the nightmares don't seem so scary anymore. And then when things feel too heavy, you walk in and hold the world up with him. When he wants to absolutely lose it because patrol didn't go well and Bruce lectures him, you give him a smirk and it quiets the thoughts. When he thinks he's not worthy of anything good, you kiss him and he swears you are good. And maybe, just maybe, there is a part of him that can be deserving of you. When Jason doesn't think he knows what peace is, you walk in and decides to be his peace for him.

"Are you ever gonna show me?" Jason asks, looking up from his book and leaning slightly over the couch to get a better look.

You shove your book away from him. "You're so nosy." You give him a fake whine. "Maybe."

"Just maybe?" Jason leans all the way up, trying to get a look at the other side and you move it away.

"It's not done!" You turn to give him the fakest scowl he's ever seen.

"Sneak peak?" Jason gives you a cheeky smile.

"While that is cute of you, no."

Jason puts his finger in his book and swings his legs to the floor, planting his feet down. He leans over to you, closing most of the distance between you. His grin is wicked and wild like a rogue wave and you want to drown right into him.

"You're just gonna make me wait?" Jason's voice drops.

"Patience is a virtue, Jay." You lick your lips as you look to his.

"I'm not a patient person."

"Oh, I know." You laugh softly as Jason gets closer to you, his nose brushing over yours and you swear you'll never get used to it. You can feel him leaning over you though and you pull away, moving the book over. "Nice try."

Jason leans back with a booming laugh. "Worth a shot."

"Gotta be quicker than that, Jay."

"But you'll show me, right? When it's done?"

"Yes, of course." You roll your eyes. "It's just a book about you guys so I'll give that. You get to know what it's about." Your entire chest burns with his interest in your thing.

"The whole book?" Jason raises a brow.

"Mhm. You all get a dedicated page. But that's it, you don't get any more than that."

Jason's voice catches in his throat because if they all get a dedicated page, that means he does, too. "Oh, I get a page, huh?"

"Yes." You chew the inside of your cheek. "If you stop being so nosy, maybe you'll get two."

Jason wants to crack his rips wide open and let you take his heart right out of its place. He thinks maybe he was born with a broken heart, maybe it was supposed to be permanently damaged. And as he grew up, people took more pieces of his broken heart leaving him with this shell of something that doesn't even resemble a heart. Because it's guarded by so much barbed wire and latches, it's nearly impossible to access. But he wants to take all of that away and let you take what's left of it. He wants to give you every damaged piece of him he has left and maybe, just maybe, you'll offer a piece of yours for him. And his heart won't be permanently broken after all. Maybe. Just maybe, he's been wrong his entire life and he doesn't have to be broken forever.

Maybe he was born with a broken heart but maybe his heart wasn't destined to be permanently damaged.

"I'll take that." Jason beams at you and he wants to be involved in all of your hobbies.

He's not sentimental, but he wants to take all the pictures he possibly can in case you ever want them for a scrapbook. And he wants to go to your silly hobby stores and help you pick up more supplies. He wants to learn about how you choose a topic and how you plan your pages. He wants to know all of it.

"Can you show me how you do your scrapbooks sometime?"

Your brows furrow. "Um...yeah, of course. Didn't think you'd be into it."

"You like it." Jason states and you’re so head over heels for him.

"Can you teach me how to cook some of your favorites then?" You ask. "You like it." You state with ease.

Jason's smile is soft and loving. "Yeah, of course. Don't wanna learn your favorites?"

You shrug. "Yeah I do but...then I can make yours. You always make stuff for me."

"Alright." Jason chuckles softly and the both of you wonder how long you'll do this for. That was not a friendly thing either of you just offered and you both know it. "I'll teach you something tomorrow."

"Then I'll teach you tomorrow, too." You beam at him. "Think of a topic you want to do and find some pictures."

"Yes, ma'am." Sarcasm fills his words but he's so excited to learn about your thing. Jason leans in closer once more, almost kissing you before your attention is pulled to the doors by Bruce clearing his throat.

"Sorry to interrupt." Bruce states, eyeing the two of you and he finds this whole thing amusing. You both actually think he has no idea what's going on.

Jason leans back a little in his seat, cheeks shooting a fire engine red while you keep your attention on Bruce. Why do the older bats keep interrupting and how the hell do they always know? Jason though, can see that Bruce doesn't look mad or annoyed. He actually looks happy.

"Why are you so happy?" Jason questions.

"That's him being happy?" You whisper as you turn around to look at him and Jason chuckles quietly.

"Your suit has arrived." Bruce offers you a soft smile.

In all honesty, you thought that it would take longer but you can't be too surprised. This is Bruce Wayne.

"No shit?" You question and while you like to tease Jason about his suit, you do actually think it's kind of cool and you’ve been excited waiting for this day to come. That also means, you should be able to finally join them on patrol.

Jason moves to the edge of his seat because while this is your suit, he's just as excited. He remembers the first day he got to put on the Robin suit and he still deems that the best day of his life. He doesn't think it'll be like that for you but he's excited for you anyway.

"Would you like to see it?" Bruce asks.

"Hell yeah." You close your scrapbook and get to your feet, Jason immediately joining you.

The two of you follow Bruce down to the Batcave. Bruce hands you a suitcase, one similar to the one Jason has for the Robin suit. You head off to the bathroom/changing area and get changed. You look in the mirror and you beam with a sense of pride.

It's so lame and it's impractical to have to change but you really like it. In a way, it's as if it solidifies your role as a vigilante. You wear a mask and that's fine but this is different. This actually hides your identity better than just a mask does and you feel as if this is what you’re meant to do. The suit is the symbol of vigilantism and you feel so proud of it. It does not define you but you hold your head up high anyway. It just fits perfectly and it's yours. So, you walk out with your head high, a pep in your step.

Jason's eyes widen as he smiles widely, getting up from his seat at the batcomputer when you come into view. The suit is black but it has Pacific blue accents. The tactical belt is Pacific blue and the cape, that naturally has a hood, is also Pacific blue. There are two vertical stripes of blue fabric down your sides, the gloves that go almost to your elbow are blue as are your boots. The holsters hugging your thighs are even blue. Instead of a domino mask like Jason and Dick, you have a mask on the lower half of your face, covering your mouth. The mask is also blue. And Jason thinks you look absolutely amazing.

"Holy shit." Jason gawks.

"It's so cool, right?!!" You beam, nearly jumping.

Jason can't help but laugh. Of all people, he didn't think you would actually think the suit thing was cool. You’ve made fun of him a hand full of times about the Robin suit, mostly about the mask and cape. But, he finds it amusing anyway because you’re beaming at him and you’re he one that asked for the cape.

"I thought you said it was lame." Jason smirks at you.

"It is but it's so fucking cool!" You’re so excited and Jason can see the smile in your eyes. "Is my cape fireproof and bulletproof?" You look at Bruce who has a sense of pride. You’re not his vigilante in the same way Jason and Dick are and were but he thinks you'll do just fine.

"Yes, of course. All of your knives and tools fit in your belt and in the holsters." Bruce explains.

"This is so fucking cool, Bruce." You think you might vibrate right out of the suit from being too excited. "Thank you, seriously."

"You're very welcome."

"So, I can go on patrol now?" You look between the two of them.

"We go tonight." Bruce offers you a nod.

"You're a bat now." Jason quips, earning a fake glare from you.

"Guess, it's worth it. I mean, my cape is cooler than yours." You state as you pull the hood over your head. "I got a hood."

Jason lets out a heart-filled laugh. "Yeah, but yours was modeled after mine." Jason quips.

"Still it's so cool." You can't even fire back because this is just the coolest thing ever. "Gar is gonna lose his mind."

"He's gonna have a fuck ton of questions about it." Jason lets out a laugh.

"I know! But he'll think it's cool!"

"You're gonna hang out in that all day, aren't you?" Jason leans back against the desk to the batcomputer, a cocky and knowing grin on his lips.

"It is tempting." You let out a laugh as you look down over the suit.

"You'll be able to wear it plenty." Bruce chuckles and you remind him of Dick and Jason when they first put on their Robin suits.

Jason even said it was the best day of his life. It's like the suit makes it all real. It makes what you all do a reality, a sense of purpose. A sense of hope and that's why Bruce does it, recruits Robins. To help them and offer them a sense of purpose and hope. Even if things don't always go to plan.

"Thank you, again." You say genuinely.

"You're welcome."

"Can...can I show Gar? And the Titans?" You ask.

You’re not exactly sure where the line is on telling people. You know you can't just go out telling any random person, or friend that's not in your line of work. But it's the Titans, all of which know about Bruce.

"Yes." Bruce chuckles softly. "Just put it in the case when you're done." Bruce states before he exits the cave.

You pull out your phone and take a selfie, your eyes smiling for you and Jason shakes his head. You’re so pretty and funny and cute. Jason doesn't think he has enough words or even the proper words to describe how he feels about you. You walk up to Jason and hand him the phone.

"Wanna take one for me?" You ask.

"Sure." Jason chuckles softly and you stand in front of him, your hands on your hips with your head held proudly, the hood and the mask concealing most of your face and Jason has to give it to you. The hood was smart. "Here." Jason hands you the phone back as you look at the picture and you can't believe this is happening. Your entire life Batman and Robin have been the vigilantes of Gotham and now you’re one of them. It's insane. "It looks really good on you." Jason states softly.

"You think so?" You ask with hopeful eyes.

Jason nods, his eyes looking you up and down. "Yeah, it's fucking hot."

"Oh?" You question, pulling down your hood. "You think so?" Jason can't see it, but you’re giving him a teasing grin.

"Hell yeah." Jason closes some of the distance between you and he wonders if you see him like this in the Robin suit. You make fun of him sure, but now you’re the one in a suit and cape.

"Robin suit is pretty hot, too, ya know?" You shrug your shoulders lazily.

"You think so?" Jason's voice drops and he goes to look at your lips, realizing he can't so his eyes come back to yours and he swears he wants to drown in them. "Always making fun of me."

"Hell yeah." You pull the mask off and close the distance between you. "You're just easy to make fun of."

"Guess we just make a good team, huh?" Jason asks, his voice so low you can barely hear him and now he's freely glancing to your lips.

His hands rest on your hips, just above the tackle belt and he's never felt the fabric like this before, on someone else. There's a sturdiness to it. It's thick and textured under his callused palms. And a part of him, while he wants you to come on patrol, was a little nervous about it. With your whole ability to get kidnapped and held captive, or almost, it worries him just a little bit. But, you’re wearing this suit and he knows first hand that his suit protects him from so much every night and he doesn't feel so nervous about it anymore.

"Guess so." You lay your hands on his sides, lightly holding his t-shirt.

Jason grins before putting a finger under your chin and bringing your face to his, kissing you gently.

That night, you go out on patrol with Jason and Bruce for the first time. Going out with the Titans was always fun and riveting. It's one of the reasons you missed it but you were a big group. But, going out with just Bruce and Jason, it's just the three of you. And there's something about it you think you kind of prefer over the larger group. Even if that means working with Bruce. But, it's fun and you have a great time and patrol goes well. Nothing eventful really happened, just the usual small petty crimes but went well anyway.

The next day comes around Jason teaches you how to cook pot roast. It is his favorite meal after all. There's a lot of laughter and stolen glances. Jason's never taught anyone how to cook anything. It's always been him and then Alfred taught him some things. But that's all it ever was. And now he's here with you, teaching you and you’re like a sponge, absorbing everything he's telling you. You keep notes on your tablet and Jason thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You do all of it for him. And for a second, Jason catches him thinking that friends don't do that. Again.

You're friends, that's been established whenever Molly asks. Or Bruce gives either of you one of his looks that somehow say everything and nothing all at once but they wreak of suspicion. When you first started this, you asked if it were friends with benefits and Jason said it'd be fun. It is. It is a lot of fun. But, he does find that maybe you're crossing that line more often than not now where it's not really friends anymore.

You reach for his hand during movies and TV shows so you can play with his fingers and he rubs your back and plays with your hair. You kiss a lot more than when you're joking or sparring or more. You’re dedicated to learning his favorite meals and he's dedicated to learning your hobbies. You sleep together more often than not. You are almost always together or texting when you're not. He always makes sure you’re tucked in when he wakes up first. And he swears friends don't do this and a part of him wants to freak out about it. Push you away and call this whole thing quits but he looks over at you as you beams with pure and unfiltered joy, and he knows he won't do that.

He decides, he wants this. Whatever the fuck this is going to be, he wants it forever. With you. He wants you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Jason wants you to give him all of your broken pieces and let him mend them back together or replace them with every whole piece he has left. He swears up and down he doesn't deserve it and he doesn't deserve you. But, right now, in this moment watching you learn his favorite meal with the happiest smile he's ever seen, he can try to be someone who does deserve you. He'll try to be someone you deserve. So, he smiles back at you and walk up to you, wrapping you in his arms before kissing you.

And you teach him stuff about scrapbooking. You went to the store before dinner and you’re positive you were probably annoying because while Jason is interested, he also is a huge dork. He really enjoyed the googly eyes and insisted he would need them. For what? You don't know but sure. He was just interested in everything and you watched him with stars in your eyes because Molly is the only one who ever showed interest in your things. Molly is the only one who let you go on movie rants but Jason does, too. Jason does with enthusiasm and then it's like he keeps a mental note of everything you have ever said. You don't know why he does it or how but it makes you feel important in a way you’ve never felt before.

As the week goes by, you think patrolling with Bruce is so bizarre. He's been Batman for your entire life and now you’re....sitting on rooftops which is an entirely other situation, with him. It's weird as shit. But, you are enjoying it. You like helping innocent people stay safe. And you get to spend some more time with Jason, you get to watch Jason in his favorite element. Kicking ass. And he's hot while he does it, too.

Now, you're back at the Manor and you’re the first one to shower this time. Showering after patrol is actually the best type of shower. Even if you don't do anything, something about it feels refreshing. For you, it's kind of like you come home and then you don't have to be a hero. You can exist. You step into the shower and that part of yourself gets to wash away with the water. You think it might be better that way because you think Jason's issue is that Robin has become so embedded in every part of him, he doesn't know how to fully separate himself from it. And while you adore him, you don't want that.

You watch him and you listen to him scream in the middle of the night. He doesn't deserve it and you don't want that either. So, you separate yourself from it and when you’re here, during the day and after patrol, you are not a hero. You’re you.

Jason has found himself in the bathroom with you. It's a routine you’ve gotten into. One of you showers while the other one brushes your teeth and gets mostly ready for bed. Neither of you are even entirely sure how it started but there's a sense of comfort in it. It feels normal and safe this way. Even though the Manor is probably the safest place in all of Gotham.

And Jason can see you through the frosted glass and he adores you. You’re pretty and smart as hell, you’re dramatic and funny in all the right ways. You get his sense of humor which is a feat in itself. You get him and Jason likes to be close to you. You take care of him in ways no one has ever done. He didn't think he deserved it but you do. You clean up his cuts and scrapes and never even flinch. You give him a look sometimes with the roll of your eyes and all he can do is smirk because he knows you worry but you support him anyway because it's his thing. And you rub his back and you always know when his leg hurts.

Jason thinks maybe you don't know he notices when you notice but he does because you’re always extra cautious around him. You take care of him and he's thinking it should be the other way around.

"Hey, can I come in?" Jason asks, hiding the hesitance in his voice.

Your brows furrow but you’re not about to tell him no. "Um...sure?" Jason hears you laugh and his body erupts with goosebumps.

He strips down and pulls the door open just enough to get in the shower with you.

You turn around, feeling the cool breeze on your skin. "What're you doing?" You ask through a laugh. He's never joined you for a shower before, not that you mind.

"Thought I'd help." Jason offers you a smirk.

Your brows raise. "With?"

"You wash your hair yet?" Jason questions and you’re watching his expression carefully and sometimes, he's really, really good at hiding exactly what he's feeling and thinking. And this is one of those times.

"Yes." You state, your eyes slightly narrowing at him.

"Anything else?"

"No." You can't help but laugh and Jason loves the way it echoes on the title walls.

"I'll wash your back for you." Jason holds his head up high and you offer him a shrug, turning around.

Jason grabs his own soap and pours some in his hands. Once his hands are lathered, he gently runs his hands over your shoulders and your entire body erupts with goosebumps, static settling into the marrow of your bones. Jason is always gentle with you, even when he's not. He's careful and tender. But, this is different. You aren't laying down together or laughing about something stupid. And he's doing this just because. And it's just so nice of him and sweet and tender. All words you think no one else would ever use to describe him. But you do.

Jason rinses his hands once he's finished rubbing the soap in and he uses his hands to start washing it away. He's careful over the scars, not wanting to put too much pressure on them but he allows himself to trace over them. He wishes you didn't have them, not because he doesn't like them, but because you shouldn't have been put through that. He'd go to hell and back to prevent it from ever happening again. If anyone deserves better in this world, it's you. It's always you.

Jason presses a kiss to the top of your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him. Your eyes are soft, brows slightly knitted together. You love how his hair sticks to his forehead when it's wet and the way his skin glistens with the waterdrops. You feel your heart start to race in your chest as he moves up your neck and you have never wanted anyone more than you want him. You think he's ruined you for anyone that could have possibly come after him. And every part of you couldn't be happier about it.

"You didn't use my soap." You whisper as Jason kisses your neck, you tilting your head to give him better access.

"Nope." Jason mutters against your skin before nipping at the base of your neck.

"Why's that?" You question, your eyes closing and you think you might suffocate under his touch. You feel him smirk against your skin, setting your entire body on fire.

"Because." Jason answers before he starts sucking a spot into your neck and he definitely does it on purpose. He likes when you smell like him.

Jason nips at the skin once more, pulling away to see the mark on your skin. And he smiles proudly to himself, before kissing the area and then kissing back to your shoulder again. You aren't sure what he's doing but you swear he could do this all night and you'd feel lucky.

Lucky is not how you have felt, ever. There have been moments where you’ve realized what you had before, with your mom, was lucky. And you realize Dick finding you was also lucky. Finding these friends was lucky. Finding Jason was lucky. But, you’ve never considered yourself a lucky person. Disaster and heartbreak seem to follow you around like a magnetic tornado. But, Jason is here and he's kissing you softly and gently and he's taking care of you and for the first time, you think you might be lucky.

Lucky to have him and deserve someone like him. You’re lucky to be here with him today and for the first time, you don't let the paranoia of something bad coming, ruin this moment. Whenever something good happens to you, something bad follows but right now, with Jason, you don't have a single thought like that. Because even with you not together, you’re lucky to have him. And you know it.

You turn around, looking up at him and Jason loves your eyes. "Let me." You whisper softly, grabbing your soap from the shelf and Jason chuckles softly, turning around.

You get some soap on your hands and start massaging it into his shoulders. Jason dips his head and he really could just evaporate into oblivion under your touch. It does something so special to him that he doesn't think he can explain. But he feels wanted and cared for. You’re careful, minding the scar on his back like he did with you and you trace over it, just like he did. And you massage some of the muscle as you rub the soap in because Jason's always too tense and his back is always filled with knots.

Jason lets out a soft groan as you work out a knot under the warm water and he doesn't know how you know to do it. He doesn't know why you do it and normally that would bother him. To not have the why. But, it's you and he doesn't need to know. Because he trusts you.

You kiss his back as you wash the soap away and Jason feels exposed again but in a way, he thinks he could live like this forever. Exposed to only you. It's not so scary when it's with you. And you can feel him relax under your touch as you smile against his skin. You can always get him to relax. And you always notice.

He'll be tense, maybe he doesn't even realize it, but then you take his hand in yours or you kiss him anywhere or you put your legs on top of his and suddenly, you see him let out a breath as if he's never been able to breathe properly in his life. And his shoulders move forward just a little and he gains this half-cocked grin, every single time.

When you started this whole thing, you knew. You knew how you felt about him because you’ve always known. And you knew he did, too. You hate conversations about feelings because it's exposing yourselves to being left bleeding wide open. It exposes you to the elements of heartache and being alone. It leaves you exposed to allowing someone else to hold the hammer that could finally shatter the last remaining pieces of your hearts. And you do enough bleeding and breaking for yourselves. But, you don't need to have the conversation because you’ve always known. Even when you want to deny it because that sometimes still seems easier than allowing each other to hold the hammer.

You slide your hands up his chest and rest your cheek against his back, hugging him softly. You feel Jason vibrate as a chuckle pulls through his lungs. He rests his hands on top of yours before picking one of them up and kissing the top of it. Jason turns around and places his hands on your hips, squeezing softly and he loves how your skin is soft compared to his hands. You offer him a gentle smile as you rest your hands on his shoulders and you love the way his shoulders feel on your hands, warm and sturdy.

"You didn't use my soap." Jason states with so much warmth you swear you'll never be cold again.

"Nope." You smile up at him.

"Why's that?" Jason dips his head closer to you.

He holds your hips like they're a lifeline to hope and happiness. And he wants to hold on forever because sometimes he needs a reason to keep holding onto hope. And you, in the middle of the chaos, offer him that hope. And he wants you, he wants this, late nights in the shower with you after patrol, cooking dinner with you, doing dishes, reading and hanging out in the library with you, today, tomorrow, and every day after that.

"Because." You whisper softly, brushing your nose against his.

Jason rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for just a second. There's this feeling in his chest, something he doesn't think he's ever felt before. It's in his chest and his stomach and seeping into every crevice of his brain. It's in his blood and bones and knees. It's warm like a campfire and thrilling. It's like lightning struck his entire body and this vibrating, burning feeling is the aftermath. He feels so happy. And instead of butterflies in his stomach, it's more like lightning bugs coming out during the first warm day of the year. Flickering with light and warmth, glowing. A reminder that the cold days are only temporary and it will be warm again. It's easy and subtle and calming. And scary and thrilling and exciting and happy. It's everything all at once. He doesn't know exactly what that feeling is, what the vibrating in his bones is or the weakness in his knees is, but he knows it feels like home with you.

You press your lips to his and it's gentle and soft. The kiss is sweet as honey and Jason pulls you impossibly close to him, your chests touching. And he wants to devour you.

You snake your hands into his wet hair, giving a light tug and Jason's hands trail to your ass, giving you a squeeze. You squeal against him and Jason chuckles against your lips. And you feel his length growing between you.

You take him into your hand, pumping him slowly and eagerly while Jason bites your bottom lip. The heat grows between your thighs as the kiss grows sloppy. Jason is heaving softly against you and his right hand snakes between the two of you, teasing your hole with a single finger. Your knees weaken with the touch and you let out a soft whimper, feelings your body desperate for more.

"Eager?" Jason chuckles hoarsely against your lips.

"So are you." You quip back, pumping just the tip as you feel precum leak onto your hand, mixing with the water. Jason lets out a groan, jerking his hips forward. "You're perfect, Jay." You whisper against his lips.

Jason’s heart booms against his ribcage as his head swims with praise. His cock twitches in your hand and the only thing he wants to do is pin you against the wall and drown right into you.

"Shit." Jason mutters as you pump him quicker, squeezing more at the tip before going back down the shaft.

Jason slides a second finger into you, you letting out another moan. His palm brushes over your clit with every pump and it’s like a bolt of electricity every single time. Your breath hitches as you feel Jason smirk against your lips. His fingers curl into you further, gaining an eclectic moan from you and he loves the way your moans sound reverberating against the walls.

"C'mere." Jason mutters pulling his hand away as you let out a whimper from the lack of contact.

Jason grabs your hips and turns you around so you’re facing the wall. Jason lines himself up with her gaping hole as you place your hands on the wall for security. Jason slides in with ease thanks to your wetness and the water spraying down on you. Jason starts pumping into you softly and then firmly. Your moans grow louder. Jason grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you up to him.

"Shh, don't want Bruce to hear." Jason's voice is graveled and you whimper, eyes rolling back.

"Jay." You let a quiet whine. "More."

There’s a snicker that falls from Jason’s throat and it’s rough and warm against your skin. Jason is nothing if not a tease in more ways than one.

Jason particularly likes these situations where he can get you to nearly beg him to fuck you. It sends his entire body into a lust-filled frenzy, taking all of his self-control not to completely lose it.

"What was that?" Jason asks, a snicker lingering in his voice.

Your voice catches in your throat, a whine falling from your lips as Jason's thrusts stall. You buck your hips back, trying to get more contact, trying desperately fill every part of you. Jason lets your hair go, gripping your hips tighter so you can’t move.

"I didn't quite hear you." He teases and you want to bite the smirk off his lips you knows he's wearing right now.

"More, Jay." You get out through gritted teeth. “Please.”

Jason chuckles, pulling out and slamming into you. "Anything for you, princess."

Jason pumps harder, fast, and deeper into your gaping hole and you can feel yourself about to unravel. Jason can feel it with the way your pussy clenches around his cock with every thrust. He reaches his hand down to circle your clit.

You let out quiet gasp before it turns into a near pornographic moan. Tears brim your eyes as the pit in your stomach grows thicker and heavier. Your body feels like it’s on fire while your hands almost try to grip the slick tile wall. Jason moves his free hand to your mouth, him still pumping eagerly into you.

“C’mon, babe,” Jason’s voice is low and raspy, hot and lust-filled. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Jason nips your neck.

You mutter against his hand as your eyes roll back in your head, bolts of electricity ripping through your body. Your knees shake as your teeth sink into Jason’s hand. Jason lets outa hiss as his thrusts become sloppy and erratic.

He feels himself nearing his own orgasm and he quickly pulls out, spraying into the shower and down the drain. His chest heaves as he hangs his head, the high lingering around him as you turn around. You offer him a lazy and lust-blown smile. Your breathing is ragged but you do adore him with every piece of you.

Jason’s pupils nearly cover every piece of green in his eyes but there’s a delighted and tender smile on his lips. You watch his chest rise quickly, the water highlighting every raised and toned muscle on his torso. His hair sticks slick to his forehead and there’s just something about him that makes you feel alive.

"Can I wash your hair?" You ask bluntly and Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He looks back at you, brows raised. "Really?"

You shrug. "Yeah, of course. I like your hair." There’s a wide, toothy smile on your face as your eyes are hopeful and lively.

Jason shrugs one shoulder, a delicate smile pulling his lips up. "Sure." He chuckles before washing his hands under the water.

The next morning rolls around and you make sure you’re up earlier than usual, before Jason. It's his birthday today. You wanted to make sure you could grab his presents and be back in his room before he wakes up. So, you’re quiet and careful getting up and heading to your room.

You grab the wrapped presents you have hidden under your bed and then you head back to Jason's room. When you get back, he's stirring awake so you hide the presents behind your back before getting back on the bed, sitting on your knees.

"Morning," Jason says groggily but he's got this lazy and tired smile that makes you melt.

He's so confused. You’re smiling and the morning sun peaking in through the curtains is kissing your skin in just the right ways. You look so beautiful. But you are never up before he is, not when it's not because of a nightmare. Yet, here you are, smiling and beaming and he can't even imagine why.

"Good morning, happy birthday, Jay." You bounce slightly on your knees and Jason lets out a tired laugh.

"Thank you." He shakes his head, grabbing his phone from the charger and checking the time. "You woke up early for that?"

"Yes." You nod your head once and you feel the nervousness flood your veins. "It's your birthday, of course, I did."

"It's not a big deal." Jason lets out a scoff and his birthday has never been a big deal. He was lucky if anyone even remembered besides himself.

"Yeah, it is." You state confidently. "I got you some stuff." You safe softly as Jason sits up.

"You fucking got me something?" Jason questions, trying to figure out when you would have done that and how.

You give him a shy smile, reaching behind you and grabbing one of the presents. "Of course, I did." You hand it to him and it's wrapped in metallic red wrapping paper and Jason can't help but think it matches his suit. You did it on purpose.

He takes the gift softly from you and you watch him nervously, waiting to see if he likes it. Jason's heart stops as he opens a first-edition Frankenstein that's in a clear display case box. He looks to you with wide eyes and he never expected this. He doesn't own first editions. He's never asked because he's so worried he'll ruin them but you wrapped it in a box for a display. How the hell did you even know that? And he's only read it to you once and you knew it was one of his favorites.

"A first edition?" There's a softness in his voice as if he's unsure how to react.

You nod softly. "I asked Bruce for help but yeah." You reach behind you and grab the other one. "Here."

After dinner a few weeks ago, you followed Bruce into the living room to ask for help in getting Jason a few things for his birthday. You hate even having to ask but you knew nothing about getting first editions of books or money to get those first editions. But, Bruce was really nice and actually seemed happy to help.

"You didn't have to." Jason shakes his head, his grip on the case light, careful not to smudge it.

"I know but I wanted to." You shrug your shoulders softly and you think he deserves the entire world.

Jason shakes his head and opens the next present. This time, it's a first edition of Pride and Prejudice wrapped the exact same way and he just doesn't know how you knew that. How you knew these two books and also to put them into display cases. No one's ever paid such close attention to the things he likes, besides Bruce.

"Another one!?"

"I know you really like those books. You're a fast reader but I see you with Frankenstein and Pride and Prejudice often enough to know you really like them. And they're two of the books you have two copies of." You point to the corner of his room where he has his bookshelf. "Also...uh....there's more." You say with hesitance and you reach behind yourself, grabbing two thick sheets of paper and you hand them to him with shaking hands. "I made those for you."

Jason's entire face softens as he looks over the first one. It's like a scrapbook page, like what you showed him to do. But this one has what looks like torn pages from Frankenstein, his favorite exerts and quotes. There are pictures from the movie and Jason just blinks at you before moving the second one. This one is the same but for Pride and Prejudice and he is so confused but he feels so important and he can't even begin to understand it. He just doesn't know how you knew all of that about him without him ever having to tell you.

"How the fuck did you even know?" Jason's voice is breathy. "My favorite lines and shit?"

"When I saw you had two copies, I looked in them and saw you annotate one like a fucking nerd," You give him a smirk. "So, uh, I did not destroy a book. I just used Photoshop and made the book page images using your quotes and stuff you had underlined and had notes next to.” You explain, the nervousness growing in your stomach because you can't tell if he likes them or not.

"Why would you do all this?" His brows are pulled in a tight line, no smirk or grin across his face and you’re thinking maybe you overstepped.

You know you both cross the friend boundary all the time. A part of you wants to stop saying you're just friends when someone asks at this point. But, you are and you’re wondering if this was too much. But, he means the world to you and he struggles with himself. You just want him to know he's important to you, everyday.

"Because you're my favorite person." You suck in a breath. "And this is the day the earth was blessed with your insane presence." You laugh softly. "You deserve it."

"Thank you." Jason looks back to the pages and he thinks this must have taken a lot of time and planning.

He thinks this must have been something important to you to make because you don't show anyone your scrapbook stuff. But, you made this for him. He's not sentimental, but he swears he'll hold onto this for the rest of his life.

"Do you like—"

"Yeah! I fucking love it, thank you, I'm serious. I'm gonna frame these ya know?" Jason lets out a soft laugh, giving you a teasing grin.

You feel heat running over your cheeks. "I'm glad you like them, Jay."

Jason scoots closer to you and puts his hand under your chin. "Thank you." His voice is soft before he presses a kiss to your lips and you want to live here forever. His birthday might be your favorite day of the year.

"How do you remember all of this shit?" Jason pulls away, scanning your face.

"Because it's important to you." You state so casually and Jason is so shocked he can't find any words. It's as if it were the easiest sentence you ever said. "It matters to you so it matters to me."

That feeling in his chest is back. It’s coming at him in full force like a wrecking ball. Banging and pounding against every bone in his body. He’s sitting down but he swears his knees are weak and his head is foggy. His chest is on fucking fire but the only thing he feels right now is a tender and comforting type of warmth.

"Thank you." Jason pulls you into him and kisses you again and he thinks this is the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life. With you.

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A/n: I promise I’m getting to the angst lol But because I know what I wrote for that and what I have planned, I’m giving you guys a lot of fluff on purpose lol but I’m excited to get there which is why I’m combining chapters lol

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @anthemabby // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou

#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #jason todd x yn #petrichor #jason todd smut

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