Morningstar

19 sharpen your teeth and bite as hard as you want

[lordbabyblack]

sherlock will find his watson. he will move on.

sherlock will continue haunting james' narrative for the rest of his life, until he jumps off that cliff.

the hills will have taken two men from him, and the wind will whisper their names.

sherlock will remember james every time he uses his powers of deduction at a crime scene. james, too, will haunt him.

[bullet-xo]

When you see people like james and sherlock loving each other you can view it as NORMAL. Its okay.

Its not an anomaly. OF COURSE they love each other. Look at the circumstances. What else are they supposed to do?

You can see two people love each other and not call it homoeroticism. Its not queer ,its not STRANGE. It's not something to be fetishized. Its normal.

"oh my god are they gay lovers" THEY ARE FRIENDS!!!! HAVE U NEVER EXPERIENCED FRIENDSHIP BEFORE!!!! COMPANIONSHIP RUNS DEEPER THAN LUST AND EROTICISM!!!!! BOTH CAN EXIST WITHOUT NEGATING THE OTHER. stop viewing their very clear friendship as your fetish. The story is about complex moral battles and situations of fate which cause their demise!!!! No one is kissing AND THAT IS OKAY because their love runs deeper than surface level tension.

WHY DO YOU THINK MORIARTY IS HOLMES' SWORN WORST ENEMY.

Think about it!!!

[honeysucklewatr]

safety net

“glad it was you.” | nerdystoner!jason | university au | smut

summary: guilt ridden for what he’s done and still, utterly smitten by you, you get partnered with jason for an assignment. he tries to make it right while your relationship progresses and things get in the way. dick invites you to roy’s frat party “coronation” where things get messier.

tags + extras: college!au, angst, smoking, drinking, smut, reader is (was) a virgin. jealousy, frat houses mentioned, bsfs!brother, yes the reader has more than one bsf. plottwist. dick is in a frat because of course out of all the batboys it would be him. jason is not in a frat cause he wouldn’t join it, he’d think its stupid but would stick around for some parties for funsies.

wc: 10k

a/n: not proofread, oops. i didn't expect this fic to get so much love, & lwk don’t think you need to read the first one to get what’s going on here. roy is lowkey a villain for this. obv this is not canon, just loosely based on the characters and trying to make them more… like how real college students be actin plus a littleeee extra for drama purposes. also my midterms were pretty good! i left no question unanswered and i feel like i truly knew what i was talking about hehe. also thank you for 2k followers wtff <33

the sunlight warms the bare skin on your stomach before you turn over on your back. an arm tightens around you when you try to escape but slowly you pry it off anyways. the remnants of last night all comes flooding back like you weren’t there and were just an observant.

jason was damn gorgeous, even while deep in sleep. his lips twitch slightly, smiling to himself with a soft huff of air escaping him like he’s in utter contentment.

when did you get so bold to fuck a guy the same night you met him?

you sit up as carefully as you can but still watch as jason stirs and grasps at the empty air where you just were. he looks like he’s gonna wake up, but then he melts back into the warmth of where your body was. collecting articles of your clothes that were flung around the room, you grab your boots and creeping towards the door. before you suddenly recall how your top is not nearly as casual to wear out now and not look like a walk of shame.

looking around, you spot his desk. a deep maroon hoodie with a huge bong next to it. you stifle a laugh at the bart simpson mouthpiece and grab the hoodie, half a mind to remind yourself to give it back to him whenever you see him next before pulling it over your head. mostly engulfed by the smell of him that intoxicated you all at once.

before you leave the room, you take one last long look at him, watching his peaceful face and his soft skin. the feelings revitalize and you recall how his weight felt on top you, holding you while he whispered in your ear. how his body danced with yours in a way that you’d never felt before and touched you like the most delicate thing in the world. how careful he was with you despite not knowing you well and how passionately he kissed you. you find yourself smiling fondly before opening the door and clicking it shut behind you.

you’re almost out the front door when you hear a long groan from the couch followed by annoyed curses.

“i told you idiots to clean later. none of you go to class anyways so fuck off.”

continuing to creep to the door until someone calls out your name, hoarse and spent from a night of drinking and yelling.

“you’re still here?” grayson questions while he rubs his eyes, sitting up with half his shirt buttoned incorrectly.

you stifle a laugh at his attire while he yawned loudly, “yup, i uh, crashed here.”

he blinks at you, “what do you mean you crashed here? like in my bed?”

“no…”

he says your name like he’s scolding you, “don’t tell me you slept with one of the frat losers.”

you squint, “you are literally the president of this frat.”

“that’s different. i’m aware of the fact that i’m a whore.”

you’re nodding along, trying to get out of this situation so you don’t have to tell your bestfriend that you’d slept with his brother. he calls your name again.

“i’m not gonna get mad at you,” he says like he read your mind, “just be honest with me. so… who was it.”

sighing softly, you fiddle with the hem of your sweater. that’s when grayson’s eyes fall on it, reading the hoodie out loud while you twisted the strings between your fingers.

“gothams criminology,” his eyes dart from side to side, “you’re in the program but you don’t own that sweater,” his mind turning over the thought of you talking to jason last night. you see the gears click into place as soon as his eyes meet yours again.

“grayson,” you start but he’s up first.

“i’m actually going to kill him,” he rounds the couch to go stomping up the stairs, but you grab his shoulder.

“no stop, i came onto him okay? i didn’t let him do anything, i wanted it.”

his brows furrow, searching your eyes, “are you serious?”

“yeah. i’m sorry i probably should’ve told you i was into him but it all happened so fast,” you admit.

he sighs, his shoulders falling back down, “i mean a heads up would’ve been nice, yeah.” he looks up to you, the unease etched on your face, “are you okay though? with that happening?”

not meeting his gaze, you smile fondly, “yeah, more than okay.”

grayson slumps further into you, putting his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into a side hug, “even though you just slept with my brother, i’m kinda weirdly glad it was him. makes me feel better.”

you laugh and shove his chest, “what does that even begin to mean dick?”

“it means,” he squeezes you tighter, “my brother is responsible and sensible and he’s a good guy, even if he tries to play off that nonchalant thing. he only gets with people he really does like.”

you try not to show your discomfort from his words, “people he likes?”

jason told you he was a virgin, just like you were. he practically got you to trust him off that alone, but if you were honest, you wanted him regardless of if he had been with a dozen people or none. but if he lied, about that… then what else is he willing to lie about?

“he doesn’t really date, is what i mean,” you let out a sigh just as he says it, and his brows furrow slightly at your reaction, “so, he must really like you then.”

“i guess,” you say trying to diminish it. biting the inside of your cheek.

this was just a casual hookup, you weren’t gonna cling onto jason just because he took your virginity. it’s not like it didn’t mean something to you, it did, but you’re not the kind of person to expect something from an unplanned and lustful experience. you’ll see jason again, that’s inevitable, but you’re gonna push down the bubbling feeling that was rising faster for the man you’d just met.

“you guess?” he laughs, “you’re a catch babes, i know jason knows that.”

you give him a small smile and squeeze him a little tighter before pulling away to finally leave, “you should go shower or something, you reek.”

pretending to have heart pains from what you’d said, he clutches his chest, “i tell you you’re a catch and you tell me i smell? dang, woman.”

you’re already at the door, halfway outside when he calls out, “you should come to the party next weekend, it’s for roy officially joining the frat, i promise i won’t get belligerent like last night!”

but you give him a wave and a fake promise that you’ll try, though you’re not sure if you can face jason yet, or ever, and not think of him inside you. or of him panting over you, calling you pretty, sloppily making out with you and biting your lip, brushing your hair from your face.

you push it all down.

after a change of clothes and a shower, you head to your ethics lecture, a pep in your step that you don’t really care to acknowledge yet. the lecture hall is cold as always, you bring a hoodie with you. you also bring jason’s hoodie from last night, folded in your bag. just in case you see him.

the professor announces the final assignment that requires a group research paper. you’re meant to find a policy that you believe needs change, reconstruct it, and utilize an appropriate practice as response.

there’s no one in the class you really know, cause you go to a damn commuter school so people don’t talk to eachother like that unless you actively make an effort. the guys next to you don’t even look like they were paying attention.

for once, you turn your head and look back for jason.

when you find him, he’s sitting up there in the back rows with roy who’s talking his ear off about something that was clearly not lecture related. but jason’s eyes are strained ahead, not looking at the professor, not looking at the screen, but looking past it. roy’s eyes shift down the rows until they meet yours and slowly, he smiles, raising his hand and waving at you. you furrow your brows, you’d only talked to roy a handful of times and only because he’s been in your practicals and been partnered with you for small assignments. you don’t really know him like that but you wave back.

jason’s eyes flicker over to you, cold and tired. you flash him a smile, waving again but he only gives you another strained expression, almost a smile but mostly exhaustion. so you turn back in your seat and don’t think much of it.

it was a hookup. maybe it meant less to him than it meant for you. you’d agreed to have sex, that was it. you wanted to be rid of that burden of maintaining abstinence and having to explain to people that it wasn’t somethjng you were actively doing, it just felt right to wait.

until you met jason. then he felt right.

but something in your gut now told you it was all wrong.

he shifts in his seat, gulping down a thick wad of spit that was choking him. guilt ridden and torn between two evils, jason slumps back in his chair.

roy raises his hand and waves down the aisle of the lecture hall, turning his head to speak just enough for jason to register, “dang she’s hot.”

jason’s eyes flicker down the hall to where roy was looking and his stomach practically drops. of course you would come to lecture, you’re just that good. you’re always on top of your things, that’s part of why he likes you so much—you’re responsible. smart. driven. he’s been drawn to you since he changed programs and decided he wants to chip away at the rotten system that’s failed him time and time again.

you furrow your pretty brows and he sighs softly. then you turn away and jason has to let the pain of his own actions drown him whole.

“so you made your decision yet or should i make my move already?” roy hums, still burning holes into the back of your head.

jason’s eyes meet roy’s, “shut up harper.”

“what? dude come on. it’s fucking university, girls like her don’t just stay that innocent.”

he glares at roy enough for him to settle back into his seat for a moment, but he says nothing back. just shakes his head and tries not to think about the rising bile in his throat from how disgusted he felt with himself.

jason doesn’t just date people. he genuinely hasn’t been with anyone before last night because he has had no interest. he wasn’t lying to you about that part at least. why would he when the prettiest girl sits in front of him in every lecture because audits class just to decide he’ll take it if you were there. even if that was kinda creepy.

he liked you, a lot.

“if you don’t mind, imma go get the girl” roy goes to stand, “make my move and you’ll owe me since you’re taking so long—”

jason’s grabbing him by the collar and pulling him back down into his seat with an oof, anger making his skin flush, “shut the fuck up roy.”

roy seems like he’s gonna say something. like he’s going to retort and make a scene. but then he sees the regret on jason’s face and he lets out a surprised laugh, watching how jason goes back to tapping his foot and wiping his palms on his jeans. finger hovering over the lighter in his pocket.

“holy shit. you already did sleep with her. didn’t you?”

jason doesn’t respond. he can’t.

roy amuses while jason grips the desk hard. roy turns towards him fully.

“fucking nice dude! you actually went for it, that’s why you didn’t answer me last night huh?” he pats jason on the back and that only makes him feel a million times worse.

jason flinches away from him palm.

roy scoffs and drops his hand, “what’re you mad at me for? i didn’t make you sleep with her.”

the wood groans under his hand, “yeah only that if i didn’t, you would.”

roy laughs, “it worked though didn’t it?”

the professor announces the lecture was over and students began standing up to pack their things.

but jason didn’t move yet. he remained seated.

“i mean i did tell you, i wouldn’t go after her if you did first,” roy says while hes shoving his laptop into his bag, “but if you’re changing your mind, im sure she’d like a guy with more experience—“

jason gets up abruptly and slings his bag around his shoulder, holding his laptop in his hand to get out of there as fast as possible.

roy calls out from behind jason while he walks down the steps, “bring your girlfriend to my party!”

jason prays he doesn’t have to see you tonight. he doesn’t know if his heart can take it right now so he’s out the door before anyone else.

outside of the building, jason leans against the brick wall and pulls out a pre-roll from his pocket. half crushed but viable all the same. he lights his joint and lets the smoke engulf him and cloud the thoughts of self-deprecation and disgust. he feels so sick that it was making him physically ill. he hates him sled right now. he turns towards the building and rests his head on the wall when he hears a sweet voice call out.

a voice that could storm a thousand wars and ground him. the one that was music to his sore thoughts and his tired mind.

“hey jay,” you called out from behind him.

he turns back away from the building, looking at you, “hey.”

attempting not to meet your eyes, you try not to let the harshness of his voice make you feel some type of way. you step forward, wrapping your arms around your torso to shield from you the cold gusts of winter air.

“have you started thinking about the final project?” you try.

he shakes his head, taking another drag before speaking, “nah. i haven’t thought about it yet. thought it was just individual.”

you frown a little more than you mean to, “didn’t you hear what the prof said?”

“not really, no.” his response drier than he meant it to be. it’s true, he usually listens but he couldn’t today.

“oh,” you nod slowly, gripping the strap of your bag and running your nails over it. jason’s eyes fall on your hand, and on your fingers, watching the drag of your nails. imagining something that you knew all too well. your lips part in a soundless gasp and you stop. “well um, he emailed us with our partner names and i guess our names are close on the class list,” you turn your phone to him.

jason’s eyes widen slightly, “we’re partners.”

“i guess so,” you shrug, unsure what to do with this newfound awkwardness.

maybe it was cause he was high last night. no. but isn’t he always high? that can’t be the excuse for how weird he’s being.

you sigh and lean next to him on the wall, “are you okay?”

jason mentally curses himself for making his anguish so obvious. he could see the confusion littered in your face and he chooses not to make it any unnecessarily worse. he drags a hand down his face and then nods, “i’m good ma, just tired.”

you’re nodding at the floor while he’s searching the crowds of students moving to their next class. then he spots roy, talking to some dudes that are part of graysons frat. jason turns fully towards you while your looking at the ground. he finally takes in the sight of you fully and appreciates you for all your beauty. smiling fondly while you stare at your shoes, tapping your toes and shifting your weight from heel to toe.

he knows he already fucked up, but why should you suffer for his actions? is he meant to do what he did and then never speak to you again? is he meant to let roy swoop in and try sleeping with you just because he’s on a mission to sleep with every damn person on this campus?

he lifts his hand and takes your bag from your shoulder and puts it over his own. you let him.

“what’re you doing?” you ask while he leans pushes off the wall. he extends a hand,

“we got work to do don’t we?”

at the library, jason can’t focus.

you’re perched on your chair, biting the cap of your pen and whizzing through articles like you couldn’t do yesterday for the life of you. the concept of getting dicked and suddenly being able to focus was foreign to you before, but you’ve never been as laser focused as you were now. and jason’s focus was no longer on school but only on you and he can’t tear his eyes off of you.

“you’re staring todd,” you say without looking up, continuing to note down something from the paper you’d just read.

“you actually read those page to page huh?” unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

“how else are you meant to formulate a thesis? especially for something this dense.”

he laughs, “you know, most people would use something to summarize that for them.”

you peer at him, glasses sliding down his nose while he stares right back at you over those lenses.

“you wear glasses.” you state.

“i do.”

“it’s cute,” you say without thinking because honestly, it was comfortable with him. he felt genuine and so did that look on his face that told you he was caught off guard. so it didn’t really matter. you offer a smile as soon as you realized what you said.

jason’s cheeks pinken.

all that anxiety he had from earlier had completely dissipated. but now that you’d called him cute, it crept back up. he clears his throat and offers another small smile.

“thanks pretty.”

you don’t miss how his demeanor shifts and you can’t help but feel like you’d overstepped. you nod back, turning back over to your computer and continuing to work.

this goes on for hours until the research portion is entirely complete. the sky turns dark again and the stars reveal themselves among the light pollution. you genuinely focus and you’re sure your activities from last night had definitely something to do with it. jason keeps stealing glances at you that you pretend not to notice at this point.

he shows you some of his work from previous years and you recognize it. he has these bright ideas that you’d come to love and advocate for. he wrote a junior paper on street gangs that’s been peer-reviewed by half of your faculty, and that just made him all the more hot to you.

intelligence was always something you valued and jason seemed to have an abundance of it.

typing, reading, jotting notes, citing authors and then passing it to him quietly to read. jason adds his own points and finds more articles. he applies criminological theories to your cases. he grounds your claims in strain theory and argues against social control.

fuck, you were crushing on him hard.

but finally you grow restless and so does he.

he stands up his chair and stretches his long legs. arms spanning up high, you catch the sight of his happy trail with those hard abs you recalled. of course, your eyes drift. mouth starting to water like you suddenly need a break while the memories flood right back right when he speaks.

“i’m gonna go smoke.”

mentally you think, again? but you know what it’s like to have a coping mechanism so you nod, “okay.”

he turns to go to the door before turning around to find you pulling out your phone and texting. he waits a solid minute, watching you smile at something he wishes he had the right to ask you about. imagining having you laying on his chest and reading stupid tiktok comments to him or showing him memes that he barely understood. he craved it so bad. he knew he was wrong, but still his voice shakes a little before he calls out your name. you turn to face him.

“do you wanna come with me?”

for a moment you freeze, putting your pen down and looking up at him through your lashes. jason tilts his head like he’s offering subconsciously, almost like he’s pleading, silently. you nod and follow after him.

once you’re outside, sitting on the edge of a stone wall, he brings the joint up to between your lips. you let him. he brings his lighter up next, hand curved around the side of your face to shield it from the wind. it burns and he watches you through the golden glow of the fire, his eyes mimicking the flames that threaten. but there’s that flicker behind his eyes again. there’s that uncertainty.

you huff out a cloud of smoke and immediately cough. his hand is at your back, rubbing soothing circles and laughing softly.

“you don’t have to if you don’t want to ma,” he offers. you offer his joint back to him.

“i just don’t really smoke much anymore,” you admit and he raises his brows.

“you used to?” he says before taking a hit.

his face stupidly beautiful as the orange light hits it, illuminating shadows on his skin. god his skin. you could practically feel him in you again, his warmth, his eagerness. his care.

you nod vaguely, “let me try something on you,” staring at the joint between his fingers, the feeling of his skin hovering over yours was all consuming. it’s like jason read your mind and he spreads his legs a little, giving you a small nod to go on.

you step into his space again, making his breath visibly hitch.

he says your name lowly and you shamelessly stare right at his lips before lowering yourself to his hand. you let him bring the joint to your lips again, taking a longer pull than before. holding it in with the purpose of numbing this feeling. you let that cloud, thick and heady, before leaning down to ghost over his lips. jason knows what you want, he just did the same to you, but now you’re being bold, and you’re taking control and he fucking loves it.

his lips part and you press closer, touching your top lip with his as you tilt your head and exhale. the smoke is vacuumed right back up by him, he lets you shotgun the smoke with him and jason drinks it up. his eyes watch yours the whole time while he inhales everything that was in your lungs before he can’t take it anymore. jason crashes his lips into yours, pulling and sucking any semblance of air you had out like he wants your very essence to be his. like a man starved, he moans loudly, zeroing the smoke you’d breathed into him and dropping one hand to cradle the back of your head.

you kiss him back just as needy, lapping at his gorgeous face, not caring for a breath to satiate the lack of air in yours lungs. you get short breaths while he chases after your mouth when you move. the man was feral, demanding more even though you were breathless.

you catch him faintly saying something while you gasp at his knee finding its way between your legs. once contact is made and his knee is pressed flush against your core, a sharp breath escapes you and you pull back.

“wait,” you breathe, “too fast.”

his lips are red and saliva is evident on his chin. jason pants lowly before kissing your cheek and counting his blessings with you. because the realization that you both deserved more time and more truth—it’s sobering despite his high.

“of course beautiful, whatever you need.” breathlessly said between soft pants.

you don’t say anything for a while, just take another mind numbing hit of whatever jason had rolled for himself and feel your inhibitions continue to loosen. it’s been a while since you’d had a crush, and it’s been since never you’ve slept with someone. jason todd was everything you’d ever desired.

he snaps you back to him and says your name so softly, so carefully, it almost wasn’t heard, “you okay?”

you nod and sigh, leaning back against the bricks letting your head fall on his shoulder. he tenses up at the contact this time because guilt was riding up his spine again. he was not anticipating that you’d touch him after what he’d done but jason forgets you don’t know. he slowly brings his hand up for caress the back of your head.

the wind blows cold and uncertain, rocking the windows to the library slightly. the strands of your hair grow cool and blow softly in the window while jason rests his head on top of yours. he hands you the joint to run his fingers through your hair, basking in the comfort that he wished he could’ve gave you this morning. but you left early and he wondered, if you knew.

his voice is shakily before he speaks, “can i ask you something?”

you hum, enjoying the warmth emanating off of him, “sure jay.”

“why did you leave so early today?” he gulps, “why didn’t you stay?”

something about his question felt like a trick one. “cause it was a one time thing right?”

jason tenses again, hand stopping its movements and that familiar feeling of his throat constricting again.

“do you want it to be?” he asks uncertain.

you shift your eyes up from under his chin and look at him to flip the question, “do you?”

“no,” he says quickly, “i don’t want it to be a one time thing.”

“so—” “so i want to apologize.”

you laugh, pulling away from him, “for what? you didn’t do anything.”

“for being a dick,” he sighs, “for not doing this right.”

you smile fondly, “doing what right?”

he says your name again, like a call to prayer, “i should’ve taken you out first. i should have done this right and instead i just…” he trails off, “i just should’ve done it right.”

searching his big eyes, a glossy sheen coating them as evidence of his high. your own red and low already and jason is sure he’s never seen anything or anyone as beautiful.

you reach up with your free hand and touch his cheek, “you still can jason.”

god, you’re so sincere, he felt like such a dick for putting you in this situation. such an asshole for letting roy’s stupid bet get into his head when he already likes you and was too nervous to ask you out. but roy threatened to ask you out first, and jason knows how roy is with girls. he always flatters them, fucks them and then ducks out of their lives. roy doesn’t exactly believe in having girl friends just girlfriends, emphasis on the plural.

suddenly he feels sick to his stomach, “you don’t understand what i’ve done…”

“you don’t have to apologize for us making a decision together.”

he leans into your hand and breathes in the scent of your skin that he has already etched into his memories. if he didn’t see you today, as gross as it is, he didn’t want to wash his sheets again because they smelt of you. he would’ve left it on there until it rotted. until the scent of you clung to his own and he didn’t know where he ended and you began.

he was sorry. he was so so sorry. and he was trying to tell you now, but you were being so sweet.

“you don’t get it,” he says shakily, hands trembling.

“okay then tell me,” you say with a small smile and jason absolutely melts.

he sighs, “i really like you. i have for a while if i’m honest, but i shouldn’t have let other peoples words make me feel like i had to rush into things. like i had to rush that, you know?”

you nod, “you’re having second thoughts about sleeping with me.”

nearly agreeing with you, he stops and shakes his head, “yea—wait what? no. not at all, i’d do that a million times again. that was good like really really good. like i’m not gonna forget about it ever.”

you laugh, “that is what a virgin would say.”

he can’t help but laugh a little back, “technically not one anymore. you took that from me sweets.”

“and i regret nothing,” you smile, pressing closer to him again. “so what did you wanna tell me?” you ask.

jason gulps, “that i, uh,” the look on your face, the happiness and the genuine tone of your soft voice.

how could he ruin that?

what good does it do to hurt you when you just established you both liked eachother?

you blink at him and he tries to get the words out but his mouth loves faster, “i want to take you out.”

you huff out a laugh, hand touching his shoulder, “that it? really?”

reluctantly, he nods, “uh, yup. i wanna take you on a proper date,” he takes your hand from his shoulder and clasped your hands in his, “i wanna do this right.”

“okay.” “okay?” “okay.”

jason sighs and lets his shoulder fall in relief, “when can i take you out then?”

you shrug, moving to walk away and pack up your things so you could leave. “you tell me.”

“tonight. now.”

“now?” “mmhm,” he watches you flush.

“okay. but i don’t really have anything to wear,” you laugh nervously. it’s been a while since you’ve been on a genuine date.

jason presses a little closer, “then why don’t you let me come over and cook you dinner. i’ll make it way worth your while.”

playfully, you roll your eyes, “think i’m gonna put out jason?”

his face drops a little and you notice the change in his eyes, but he plays it off, “no, i just wanna show you how much i like you baby.”

you scrunch your nose, “fine. but don’t call me baby.”

jason insisted on going to the grocery store before heading to your apartment and you were so glad he did.

there was some more work you had to do on a paper so you asked him if he’d care that you’d work on it. he didn’t mind at all. in fact, he insisted on you leaving the room to focus while he cooked entirely for you. you sat at the couch for a while while he headed to the kitchen to start making dinner. occasionally you’d take glances over just to see the light of the kitchen on but not close enough to see what he’s doing.

so you put your headphones on to actually lock in and focus. before you knew it you were done your paper and submitted it, looking at the clock and realizing it’s been over an hour.

you wince to yourself.

there’s a cute guy in your kitchen cooking you dinner and you left the cute guy in to cook dinner.

he does all the work and cuts up the vegetables, sautés the onions, makes his own sauce. the smell was what drew you into the kitchen, delicious and alluring.

he hears you before he sees you, “how was the paper?”

“good, kinda boring but good,” you walk up behind him to get a peak of what’s he’s cooking that smells so good. the aromas of his cooking were literally making your mouth water. jason stops you with his huge chest and tsks.

“nah ma, you’re gonna wait to try it,” smiling at you as he lift you up by your hips and ignores your gasp of surprise.

he places you gently on the counter next to the sink and places a soft kiss to your forehead. if you were a dog, your tail would be wagging right now at how intentional and sweet he was. you watch as he turns back toward his food on the stove, stirring and sizzling all while you watched him from the counter, finding your eyes trailing over his broad shoulders. the muscles rippling through his back as he stirs and turns back to you with a spatula in hand.

“this is nice you know.” you muse, trying the sauce when he brings some to your lips, “oh my god, you made this?”

jason smiles wide, “alfred’s recipe, you like?” leaning over the counter with an arm on either side of you. staring at like he’s utterly mesmerized by the sight of you the same way he did earlier in the library. the same way he did the other night.

“very much,” he leans further down and presses his lips to yours. just a peck, a stolen kiss that made your heart flutter.

this felt domestic as if jason fit into your life perfectly. but jason’s internal thoughts were getting loud again and he gives you another kiss to your cheek before he pivots to wash his hand in the sink. grabbing a paper towel to dry his hands, he decides to bite the bullet and clears his throat.

“about earlier, i was gonna tell you something.”

“jay don’t worry. you don’t have to say it, i know.”

he doesn’t interrupt this time, he just waits to see what you’d say. you continue to,

“i was nervous about it too, but you made it so much more comfortable.”

jason blinks and his lip curls into an expression you couldn’t read. you misread him. you’d misread what he meant entirely. you reach out and draw him closer by his hand, interlocking fingers while he looked you from eye to eye.

then you nearly ruined him by saying, “i’m glad it was you.”

he doesn’t know what to do. he doesn’t know what to say when you’d say something so sweet to him. instead he wars with the thought of that stupid bet again like he couldn’t ever let anyone get his hands on you. especially not some loser from a frat that wouldn’t appreciate you for everything he saw you as.

breaking your heart isn’t something he wants to do. but right now you’re looking at him like he hung the moon and his heart is beating out of his chest for you. he nods and agrees with you, “me too.”

the food on the stove sizzles and jason snaps out of his thoughts, blinking before giving you a small smile.

“don’t want it to burn.” stirring the pot with a wooden spoon.

next time, he thinks to himself, i will tell her next time. next time, he’ll say it before he sees that sweet look on your face.

by the end of the week, jason still hadn’t told you. how could he, when everytime you looked at him, he wanted to cry and eat you alive at the same time. stomach turning at the thought of disappointing you by falling for this idiotic bet.

jason todd had never loved anyone like you and that was what scared him the most. he couldn’t imagine losing you.

jason wasn’t ready to ruin what had been building between you. he didn’t think that it was so wrong after dinner at your place so he kept playing at it, letting you both flourish into something that could really be something. something that you could've told your friends about and thought you could tell your parents because that's what this was for him. not being a piece of your life but a part of it.

but after another long study session ended up with you making out in the back of the library, almost going further, jason can’t help but feel sick again. it’s been a week of lying to you, and weeks of liking you, but every time you touched it only made his guilt grow.

he’s about to say it, as painful as it’s gonna be, as much as he knows ripping this bandaid off. it’s better to tell you now before something else happens—

your phone buzzes in your pocket, ringer off but vibration on still.

“one sec,” you tell him before pulling away to answer the call.

jason let’s out a harsh breath he didn’t know he was holding in. at first you say hi to whoever was on the other end with a familiar pep in your voice. then you’re talking on the phone, loudly.

you rub your forehead, “he did what?”

jason stands upright, taking the last drag of his joint and flicking it away. he turns his full body towards your turned back.

“then where the hell is he?” you’re already turning and opening the door to the library to go back inside.

jason’s right behind you while you end the call and start vigorously packing your things.

“what just happened?” he asks, watching you zip your bag up.

“apparently zatanna has got a boyfriend,” you sigh already annoyed as you put your bag over your shoulder.

he quirks a brow, “the sorority president? what’s she got to do with you?”

“nothing. it’s not me, it’s your brother,”

jason furrows his brows, before his lips fall.

oh.

oh.

grayson been hooking up with zatanna on and off since freshmen year and it’s been messy to say the least. considering how zatannas got a boyfriend, john constantine, whose also been on and off with her and equally as hot and cold with dicks frat, you knew grayson had probably been instigating.

“i’ll come with you,” he says, scratching the back of his head, “i don’t want you walking alone.”

giving him a small smile, “thanks jay.”

he smiles back, “jay?”

“can i call you that?”

he takes your bag again and flings both of them over his shoulder.

“you can call me whatever you want ma,” giving you that cheeky smile that make you swoon, “if i can call you babe.”

it feels like a rendition of last weekend all over again.

drunk college students, loud music, smoke that was either real or from some stupid machine wally and grayson bought for effects. how grayson and other frat boys didn’t get sick of parties, you didn’t quite get.

only difference this time, it seems like most of the crowd has dispersed to the backyard.

you and jason exchange glances before walking over to the back door and pulling it open. despite how there are multiple chairs in half and a glass table shattered, the party continues. a beer keg is on the lawn and tim is upside down with conner holding his legs. wally is talking to a group of girls, showing off his abs like an absolute fool. he’s got his shirt pulled up and three different girls rubbing on his abdomen while he’s talking about how fast he is.

cassandra and stephanie are sitting by the pool, talking before they notice you walk in. cassandra gives jason a once over, skepticism on her face before she ignores his presence entirely and turns to you.

“sorry, i forgot to tell you we already got them to stop fighting. it was literally a shitshow and roy took grayson upstairs to cool off but john left like ten minutes ago.”

you sigh, gesturing to the broken table in front of you, “what even happened?”

stephanie stands, “oh i’ll tell you what happened. they were playing spin the bottle like a bunch of pre-teens and dick was making out with zatanna, nastily might i add, and john walked in at the exact same time.”

jason sniffs from next to you, stifling his laughter. the three of you turn to him, “no, ignore me, please go on.”

“anyways,” cassandra announces, “they had a dick slinging contest and fought, hence the broken patio set. now graysons up in his room, nasty gash on his face from johns frat ring and also icing his wrist.”

you nod, wondering when your life turned into taking care of frat bros, “kay, i’ll go check on him.”

“roy’s up there with him, so don’t worry.” cassandra says.

jason’s shoulders tense a little at the mention of roy and all his problems seem to just creep over him all over again. it’s been a full week and he still hasn’t told you. he shoves his hands into his pocket.

“roy’s an idiot, probably telling him normal alcohol is the same as rubbing. i’ll go check on him.” you move to go back inside. jason follows behind you like a puppy and once your inside you look at him sideways, “what?”

“nothing, i’m just coming with you.” he blinks.

“for why?” you blink back. a feelings of uneasy settling in your stomach. the same feeling you had earlier in the library.

“just to check on my brother,” slinging his arm over your shoulder, “relax babe, i’m just gonna take some of his stash too. i forgot the rest at home.”

you hum in acknowledgment, his excuse seeming to meet your understanding.

as you walk up the stairs, roy is coming down. he says your name a few times like he’s playing with it on his tongue, and that again, makes you feel uneasy. jason visibly tenses again.

“where are you going cutie?” roy coos.

with the blankest stare, you reply, “to gray.”

roy raises his eyes to jason towering over you, smiling when he meets his gaze. jason puts his arm around your waist in a way that felt oddly possessive, a side of him that you were yet to see, but definitely didn’t like.

in a way you couldn’t explain, this felt wrong.

something about this exchange felt off.

you tear jason’s hand off of your waist and face his unwavering eyes.

“i’ll be right back.”

jason nods in acknowledgment.

you walk up the rest of the stairs feeling daggers being pointed right at your back. that same feeling you kept getting in lecture, like somone was watching you from afar. their conversation not beginning their conversation until your out of earshot, you’re sure. when you get to graysons door, a shiver goes down your spine.

it creaks open, “gray?” he is sitting on his bed, clearly tipsy and icing his hand on raw meat. you grimace at the sight, “this does not count as ice.”

he singsongs your name, standing up and striding over with minimal damage as you expected, “did you bring my brother with you?”

you nod, taking the thawing meat off his bed with a grossed out shudder. then opening the door to walk out with you, grayson stares at the cuts on his knuckles, “i swear that dickhead john wears a ring in every finger.”

“and you slept with his girlfriend,” flicking his forehead with your free hand, “so you deserved making contact with those rings.”

“ow—she didn’t tell me they were back together. besides, what happened to women’s bodies being their choices, you know i’m a big feminist.”

rolling your eyes, assessing the wounds on his hands. you touch the small cut by his cheekbone, he insists, “i’m fine.”

shoving the makeshift ice pack in his hands, “put that back in the freezer and try not to fight anyone else grayson.”

he puts his free hand up in surrender, “as long as their girlfriends don’t look like zatanna, sure.”

he says while he’s marching down the stairs behind you, taking in the small scowl on your face, “is there something wrong?”

the sound of laughter from down the hall catches your attention, followed by soft pings from a game of beer ping echoing. cassandra sat by the speakers with stephanie perched next to her. conner looked wasted playing beer ping with tim already and wally had people close to him that you’d never seen before. roy was already pouring shots in his honour. but all you could think about was that jason wasn’t there. he was nowhere to be found, so you could only assumed he’d gone outside. you pry your eyes away from the front door and look back at grayson.

biting the inside of your cheek, “i dunno. no? i don’t think so.”

grayson looks at you funny at the bottom of the stairs, “don’t make me pry it out of you.”

“i just feel like,” you sigh, “like i’m missing something.”

he quirked a brow, “you forget your phone somewhere or something?”

shaking your head no, “like something is wrong and i’m to dumb to see it. just whatever it’s stupid forget it.”

“you’re probably still thinking about something for class so don’t stress about it. it’s friday night, you’re about to graduate with honours, come do shots with me!” he drags you towards where roy was pouring shots and wally had now joined.

“gray, i still got shit to do when i get home.”

he ignores you, stopping right at the counter and wiggling his brows at roy, “two shots and keep those coming.”

raising your brows, “dude, did you not hear what i just said?”

“nope,” shoving the shot in your face, “drink so you can make a stupid decision tonight.”

suddenly the eyes of the guy pouring the drinks stares into yours again. roy tilts his head, “go on sweetheart, make another stupid decision tonight.”

his comment mad your stomach churn, blinking rapidly at the shot in your hand. what did the implication of his words mean, you didn’t know. but you linked arms with grayson as he offered and dropped your head back enough to down the shot, grimacing at the burn.

“what the hell is that roy?” grayson shakes his head.

“tequila! same thing i put in the punch last weekend.”

wally scrunches up his nose, “ugh, no wonder why it tasted like antiseptic in my mouth.”

grayson takes his shot from him and downs it, shaking his head vigorously again, “now you, have to be drunk to do the initiation tasks roy.”

roy shrugs like he doesn’t care, “don’t have to tell me twice.”

the crowd of boys start getting bigger as the rest of the frat boys surround them. you slip away to get back to cassandra. finding her sprawled out on the couch with stephanie and jason on the other couch, bong sitting in his lap. cassandra was laughing like she hadn’t with any other guy you’d ever introduced you with and when she saw you walking towards them, she says your name and something you couldn’t hear from the music along the lines of jason being tolerable.

jason lights up as you approach them, that familiar haze over his eyes that made him look all the more delicious. jason says your name softly, putting the bong to the floor and sticking out his arms to beckon you to sit on his lap. you smile back as you approach him and take his hand.

he guides you into his lap, kissing the side of your head and taking a deep breath in.

“mmmh you smell so nice, have i told you that before?”

he was buzzed, you could practically see the yellowish hue in the air around him and cassandra.

“how do you get any work done when you’re constantly stoned todd?” unable to control your laughter when he nuzzles his head into your neck, making you squirm in his lap.

humming, letting the vibrations tickle your skin, “how do you get any work done without being stoned cupcake?”

you quirk a brow, pulling back to face him over your shoulder, “cupcake?”

“you smell like cupcakes. it’s fitting.” slowly pushing the bong closer for cassandra to take and give himself more room.

cassandra stands, raising her hands, “nah, no way, i can’t anymore. he’s like snoop dogg or something.” before following stephanie, leaving the two of you there, still sprawled while the other couch remained empty.

staring through red-rimmed and half-lidded eyes, jason smiles, “guess it’s just us ma,” his voice low and warm as he whispers to you, “i’m wondering if i can find out if you taste as good as you smell.”

warmth pooled low in your belly as he adjusted you in his lap to face him fully, “jason.”

mouthing at the side of your jaw, he feigns innocence, “mmhm?”

“we’re in public,” you said with little conviction, letting him bend you to his will as he tangles his long fingers through your hair.

“i live here,” he reminds you, breath hot on your skin, “so technically it’s not public.”

you pull your face back to stare at him sternly, but all it does is make him groan. his hands falling to stop your hips from moving, “careful.”

furrowing your pretty brows, “what?”

he huffs out a laugh, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say we’re dry humping in this public setting.”

“oh,” realization dawned on you and you started to swing your leg off of his, “oh, i didn’t mean to—”

but he wasn’t having it. those long fingers curved over each thigh, keeping you spread and over him. he didn’t let you move off. biting his bottom lip as he intentionally bucks his hips into yours, coaxing a sharp whine out of you just to swallow it down and by pressing his lips into yours.

jason’s hard bulge rubs you in the best way possible, slowly dragging over the seam of your jeans while his hands help move you. lips attached to yours, biting your bottom lip the way he always does and tugging on it like it’s his leash keeping him tethered to yours. you follow his lead, rolling your hips onto his, watching his breath stutter and his eyes flutter.

“oh my god,” he pants into your mouth, “can we go upstairs?”

this time you’re bolder, sticking your tongue into his mouth and slobbering on his perfect face. tangling muscles and listening to him groan lowly down your throat while his hands move lower, gripping your ass in on his lap. fingers digging into the plump of your flesh and dragging your hips with him, forward and back. stealing control before you really even got it, tonguing you right back while holding you tighter against him. lifting his back off the couch and pushing you backwards by leaning you into the empty air.

the music shifts into something slower. something by joji or wave to earth or god knows what echoes through the walls cause nothing fucking matters. you’re forgetting yourself, forgetting your surroundings as the world dissipates into nothing but him.

his mouth was warm on yours, his hands were purposeful. your heart was full and your mind was blank. you wanted him. you needed him. you were about to take his hand, walk him up the stairs, straddling him just like this without the layers but of course, something had to bring you right back down to earth.

“there’s about a dozen rooms upstairs to do this at.” graysons voice nearly makes you jump as he plops on the couch.

jason turns his head with annoyance, “there’s another couch.”

“and there are still dozens of rooms upstairs for you two to go dry hump in,” he drunkenly smiles, saying pushing the table out of the way as wally and roy come over to you with a group of people.

they gather with dozens of red solo cups and bottles of alcohol that told you, a game was pending. settling on the floor with grayson slipping right next to them, the words never have i ever, get spoken, and someone groans about being too old for this shit. you turn back to jason, still halfway sitting on his lap. the laziest and sexiest smile on his face as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. he leans right forward and kisses the tip of your nose, making you smile and scrunch up your face.

“you wanna play with them, don't you?” speaking low enough for you to hear but clearly grayson heard him. jason read the look on your face before you even started nodding to confirm.

“you’re joining either way guys,” grayson says with finality and scoots two people away from next to him for you two to join.

you climb off of jason and he reluctantly lets you go, letting your fingers linger on his as you settle on the floor and he slips next to you. the people in front of you quickly became people you partially knew or have seen on campus before.

between jason and grayson, you watched as grayson and roy began the pouring drinking into cups for everyone and setting them in front of them. you look to jason as he grabs the solo cup and puts it in front of him, “thought you don’t drink.”

he shrugs, “i drink if you drink.”

you roll your eyes right as wally speaks, “alright so, who wants to go first?”

another frat member, hal, speaks up, “i’ll go. never have i ever… gone skinny dipping.” and he’s also the first to drink.

grayson blinks at him, “why did you just expose yourself dude,” and then also takes a long sip.

“what, you guys go together or something?” jason jokes.

hal tsks, “a man can’t spend quality time with his boys?”

grayson groans, “please stop talking. okay i’ll go next. never have i ever, pissed myself.”

no one drinks for a moment. everyone’s scanning across the circle to see who was going to lift their hand. then wally sighs softly and lifts his hand up to take a sip before snickering echoes around the group.

“that’s not even fair, i was super drunk and it was moment of weakness!” he protests before the cup touches his lips.

“doesn’t matter west, don’t spray it and you’d be fine. now drink.” grayson snickers.

a few more people go before and laughter ensues. at this point you’d taken a couple sips at stupid questions, never i have i ever broken a bone, failed a class. but the air starts to shift as everyone gets drunker and everyone’s inhibitions get looser. the laughters get a little more disperse and a few jaws clench. the questions get a lot more scandalous fast.

“never have i ever kissed my friends girlfriend,”

roy drinks, hal drink, grayson drinks.

people gasp, someone gets up to leave.

“never have i ever had sex with a friends ex,” wally smiles staring straight at roy.

roy shrugs and drinks. he makes direct eye contact with jason and you catch his jaw tense from next to you. you don’t get the weird tension, but jason stops looking at him, and turns to you instead, squeezing your hand and looking at your half empty cup to offer a refill. you shake your head no and cross your legs as the game continues.

“never have i ever fucked half the people in this circle,” donna, the girl next to roy says looking suspiciously up to him.

roy scoffs, “babe, come on, that was my past,” rubbing up and down her arm.

she squints and repeats herself, “never have i ever fucked half of the girls in this circle.”

a few of the guys snicker and roy lifts his cup and takes a sip. donna stands and throws her drink in his face, roy doesn’t even look remotely fazed.

“i fucking knew it.” and storms away.

grayson snickers and jason purses his lips. roy lifts up the fabric of his shirt wipes his face with it before grayson interrupts, “aren’t you going to go after her.”

roy sighs dramatically, “nah, got my sights on someone else.”

you don’t miss how jason’s hand grips yours a little tighter.

roy rubs his hands together, “alrighty, my turn.” scanning his eyes around the group before settling behind jason’s head, “never have i ever, kissed someone i didn’t want to.”

“someone already said that,” hal speaks up, “go again harper.”

stretching his arms from side to side, roy hums, “okay fine. never have i ever slept with someone i didn’t really like.”

no one drinks. no one really does anything because they had no answer and didn’t know that roy was being pointed. he clicks his tongue and turns back towards where you sat before tilting his head at you looking around the group to see who drank.

roy gives you a small innocent smile before looking up to jason.

jason stares back, “what roy?”

“oh come on jason, we’re all just having fun. i didn’t know we weren’t being honest now,” crossing his arms over his chest, “rules are rules.”

he squints at the red head and shrugs nonchalantly, “i’ll drink when i have something to drink to.”

jason didn’t wanna show how his words affected him. he didn’t want to give him the upper hand so he comes to his defense and your own as he say the tension in your face. the way your shoulders were hunched like you knew something was coming.

“don’t exactly get around like you do, buddy.”

a couple people ooh at his comment, grayson sucks air between his teeth. wally laughs too loud with hal. but roy takes it too personally, he internalizes it and picks the worst possible option, scoffing and flickering his eyes to you then back to jason.

“fine. let me be more candid.” he pretends to think.

“never have i ever slept with someone because of a bet.”

like a vacuum was sucking out the oxygen available in the room, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. that comment was too pointed, too specific for you to just ignore it. everyone else freezes and seizes their conversation in the circle while only the music could be heard.

the implication was too specific.

you turn your head to jason to see he’s not meeting your gaze and his hand was clenching the cup too tightly. tilting your head towards jason, you try to look at his eyes and he looks at the wall behind roy, his face paling dramatically.

you could hear your heartbeat in your throat and your stomach in your ass. nobody moved but they also didn’t get it either. they didn’t see what you just saw. roy smiles then laughs around the group like he’d said something harmless and hadn’t just shattered your worldview.

“no one? oh okay, guess i made a mistake.”

and slowly the game picks up again, voices blending in together while you were stuck in your seat. unable to move and unable to participate. it continues around you, drinking, laughing, stupid statements.

but you can’t focus.

you can’t bring your mind back to what roy had said. but worse, you can’t forget how jason wouldn’t look at you. how his eyes fell past you and how weird you’ve felt all week. how jason kept trying to tell you something about that night and burying the thought at the last second. how naive you’d been. a sick feeling clawed at you.

now it makes sense. you were just the punchline.

the thoughts swirl and you mindlessly down the rest of your drink before standing up. right as you stand, jason’s hand flings up to grab yours. you startle but don’t turn.

“where are you going?” he asks carefully, like he’s gauging to see if you’d seen what he accidentally revealed.

you shake your cup, “refill.”

he mumbles something about there being more in front of you but you’re already pulling from his grip and stepping away. you’re halfway to the kitchen when you feel your face burning from strain of not saying anything. by the time you reach the table, it felt like you might either cry or explode.

whatever they were pouring earlier, you pour into your solo cup, not really measuring the shots. vaguely watching as the liquid sloshes and your mind whirrs. you’re replaying that whole night with jason over again. you’re recalling how roy made those little comments earlier tonight. how he’d been staring at jason like he knew something he’d done. how he’s been staring at you like he knew something you didn’t.

taking a long swig, you lean back on the counter and try not to drown in the thoughts. that’s when you hear soft footsteps into the room.

“you should slow down ma.” the voice too familiar to miss.

you ignore him, turning away from him to face the cupboards and stare into your cup. brows furrowing with restraint and breath heaving slightly as roy’s comments sank deep in your mind like the truth had already been revealed.

something was wrong like you’d thought, but it was so much worse than you could ever imagine.

jason slides closer and rubs your shoulders, “did you hear me?”

turning around abruptly, you move from him, fingers tightening. he furrows his brows and tries to grab the cup from your hands but you pull back.

“come on baby, you’re drunk.”

you laugh incredulously and smile up at him, too wide for it to be genuine. just enough for him to notice you were upset and weren’t saying it out loud.

“what? i thought we were having fun jason? i'm just having fun.” shrugging as you take another sip just to spite him, eyes boring right into his.

he blinks and tries to move closer to you, “babe…”

you pull again, “don’t,” huffing as emotions threatened to slip. you swallow it down cause you're not about to cry over a man. he opens his mouth but you speak first, “is it true?”

he blinks, confused, “is what true?”

“am i a fucking bet jason?”

his face visibly pales and he takes a half step back like you’d slapped him in the face. right now, you were about to.

his lips part, “w…who said that to you?”

that’s when your brows upturn because he'd basically just confirmed it. a breathless scoff escaping you as you set the drink down, “congrats jay.”

“i was going to tell you,” he breathes, but you’re already walking away, “ma, wait.”

muttering under your breath, you laugh, “god, i’m so stupid,” shove past him and walk out of the kitchen.

storming through the crowd and trying to leave, jason’s hot on your trial, saying your name, over and over, desperately trying to get you to listen to him. you're not listening to him if you have a damn choice, so you're not even gonna give him the time of day or the chance to try and prolong this facade he'd trapped you in with him. he keeps yelling despite the music and despite the chatter. clawing through to catch you just as you walk out the door and try to close it behind you.

he grabs the door right before it shuts and follows after you, calling your name but you ignore him. you had to leave. you weren’t going to cry, but if you stayed long enough you might.

jason grabs your wrist and takes a deep breathe, “please, just let me explain.”

“was it funny? did you laugh and get a kick out of using me?”

shaking his head no like it’s gonna fall off his head, he keeps tugging you closer while you push away, “it wasn’t supposed to be that. i shouldn’t have listened to roy.”

“when i told you i was glad it was you the other night, did you laugh with him about it later?”

his face breaks, “no, nothing like that, please—”

“must’ve been such a good inside joke huh? another notch on your belts to laugh at, a fucking wager for you two to bet over,” you laugh incredulously again.

“it didn’t start like that. i fell for you, for real and i wanted to tell you but i couldn’t figure out how—”

you cut him off, not angrily. not emotionally but with deep hurt like you were struggling to keep it together, “you could’ve told me before i fell for you jason.”

“baby,” voice barely a whisper, “it was real to me. it still is.”

“you can’t just decide when it becomes real, you’re the reason it’s built on a fucking lie!” your voice breaks, tone getting quieter as you watch tears well up in his eyes. even when he was the one hurting you, watching him tear up, it somehow still affected you.

“i trusted you jason.” pointing a finger at his chest, voice a little softer now, “you let me thank you for it.”

he gulps, emotions taking over and flooding through his body like he was being suffocated.

for what he had done, he knows he doesn't deserve a second chance, not when he has let so many run past him already. he had ample opportunity to tell you but he didn’t know what to say to that. nothing left to say to defend himself and he doesn’t even know if he’s redeemable now.

pulling your wrist from his grip, and he lets it slip out, grasping his hand around nothing and taking a mindless step towards you. but you put a hand up to stop him, taking few backwards steps and not meeting his gaze. “don’t follow me.”

he watches as you turn around, watches you walk all the way down the street and out of his view. physically manifesting the way you were also emotionally walking out of his life too. with his hands shaking but his feet planted firmly, he lets out a soundless gasp.

this was his doing and like an idiot he was frozen in place, mouth opening just to close again. lip quivering as tears slipped down his cheek and wet the side of cheeks. eyes darting from side to side as he slowly slips to his knees. he should’ve told you time ago and he kept delaying it, not wanting to lose the only girl he’s ever loved. stupidly letting fear cloud his judgement. completely fooling himself, telling himself continuing this outrageous lie was gonna protect you when it was really only protecting what he wanted. who he needed.

now he’s lost you anyway, and it’s all his fault.

masterlist | taglist

a/n: ik there’s discourse that jason is not a smoker, but in my eyes he is and not in a oh im gonna rebel kind of way, which maybe it was at first, but more in a this is helping me numb the thoughts of everything else. this is quieting my thoughts and i probably have unregulated adhd. there’s also multiple renditions of him smoking canonically but i understand why people think he wouldn’t. i don’t think jason sees anything wrong with weed though he’d draw his line at anything else. i think marijuana manifests for many people as a coping mechanism and a way to escape reality while continuing to be a functional person. yes, you can be very functional as a smoker and jason is one of those ppl to me <3

[constantstateofyearning]

Me to all my friends

[fatehbaz]

hmm

dragonflies. haunting implications:

[pr1nceofg0tham]

what do you need from me tonight? .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪

i don’t care if you’re sick, i don’t care if you’re contagious.

𖥔 summary since befriending tim drake you have known exactly how he feels about his brothers: offlimits, forbidden, do not enter! this was never too difficult to maintain, never too hard to turn away when one smiles a little too bright, yet when sweet and sultry jason walks into the room it become harder to turn the other cheek.

𖥔 pairing jason todd x reader

𖥔 genre/tw best friends brother au!! fem!reader !! reader is tim’s bff, fluff! angst?! probably suggestive at times i can’t lie, intoxication, swearing !! jason is a softie, none of that charmer fuck boy jason here!! petnames, kissing, reader and jason are real yearners !! reader and tim are supposed to be like 21-22 which puts Jason at like 25-26 or so (in my mind) batfam mentions and cameos! we love!! librarian!jason !! historian!reader !! tim and reader are platonic soulmates <3 also tim calls reader chicken, idk why!! also thers gonna be typos and run on sentences probably (i blacked out)

𖥔 w/c 8.3k and some change

𖥔 a/n this came to me in a dream… idk i just feel like tim has such strong protective girl bestie vibes so this is what happened. i love tim and reader and reader and jason and i really hope you do too!! lemme know xoxo

masterlist | requests open!!

Since the moment you became friends with Tim Drake, you understood his brothers were completely off limits. It was apparent in how he would go out of his way to not mention them by name—only my brother this or my brothers that—it was in the look of pure disgust when someone would bring up just how hot his oldest brother was when he showed up on the news: alerting the public not to be worried about some crime in Blüdhaven. Even you, his best friend since the trauma of Philosophy 204 bonded you together, were not allowed to ask about them without a deadly glare shooting your way.

You understood, if you had a famous family full of wealthy handsome boys, you too would want to keep them aware from your friends. You shudder at the thought of some girl asking if your brother was single, thus whenever Tim gives you attitude about it, you allow yourself to laugh it off. It wasn’t until the summer between Freshman and Sophomore year that you were even allowed near Wayne Manor, and into the lives of his illustrious family. 

Now, five years into your friendship, you could say that you’ve fit yourself into Tim’s life quite nicely. Being his favorite lady, you’re often his date to galas and Sunday brunches with the wives of Wayne Enterprises, The person who comes along when Bruce says “you can bring a friend”, and most special, who he turns to when one of his brothers annoys him. Like now, 

“I just don’t know why I’m suddenly Damian’s chauffeur," Tim says, a familiar annoyance seeping from his voice. “Like, my father has billions of dollars yet I have to be the one to drive my little brother around, come on.” 

You laugh, but the easy way in which he talks about his family’s wealth brings a bad taste to your mouth… You, a girl born and raised in the lower sector of Gotham, find it quite gross how easy your friend throws his money around sometimes, which you remind him with a swat on the back of his head. “Hey! what the fuck was that for?” He exclaims with a laugh. 

“Timothy, you know better than to be all waspy when I’m around…” you sigh, “and anyway, it’s not like Damian goes anywhere but the library and the planetarium… he's just a kid.”

“A kid who threatens to poison me if I don’t buy him bug juice—which I gotta say he is getting too old for.” 

“Ahh, Timmy, are you just sad about your baby brother growing up?” You say, pouting your lips in the exact way you know annoys him. 

You’ve always thought it’s funny how annoyed Tim gets about Damian, a boy who’s only ever sweet to you—asking you about your favorite animals and telling you about the new exhibits at Gotham’s Natural History Museum. “I don’t get why it's so terrible, Dami’s just a sweetheart,”

“Ugh, maybe to you,” Tim replies, “he just thinks you’re cool cause you work at the Historical Society and you make fun of me,”

“Well, there’s a lot to make fun of.”

“Ha.Ha. Real funny guess who's uninvited to Dick’s birthday party.” With this, you pause. It’s true that most of the parties surrounding Tim’s family are unnecessarily boring and involve fitting into a tight dress and making your hair look presentable. There’s been quite a few times when you’ve wished that Tim would go with someone else and gift you the reprieve from a drawn out conversation with a doctor or a politician, (or whoever else Mr. Wayne invites to drum up philanthropy). However, you look forward to Dick’s birthday every year; a night filled with laughter and sweet drinks, getting to see Dick and his girlfriend Kory get a little too drunk and attempt to do gymnastics on the club’s dancefloor… Even better, it’s the one chance you really get to see Jason, Tim’s older and outcasted brother.. 

You remember the first time you met him, a Friday dinner you accompanied Tim to… It was the one night a week Alfred was free from dinner duty, thus the two of you had brought chinese and gelato for dessert and Damian kept pestering you about bringing him to the Zoo to see the snakes. 

You had already met everyone else, Dick with his charming smile and the spark in his eyes when he pulled your chair out (you’re sure it had more to do with annoying his brother than being a gentleman,) You’d met Duke when he followed his brother into university becoming a welcome third to your little group, and his father–Initmaditing and encompassing Bruce Wayne, but you’d never met Jason. 

You’d heard about him, heard the sighs from his father when he noticed his second son hadn’t shown up… Watched the careful way he was spoken about by his family, in past tenses and thinly veiled sadness. Tim had rarely brought him up to you, barely mentioning how there was some sort of accident, how it destroyed their father and separated Jason from himself and his family. 

You never liked seeing your best friend sad, it hurt too much to see his blue eyes gloss over, so you never brought him up, yet you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t curious. You remember seeing it on the news, the day that Jason Todd went missing… It wasn’t surprising to hear about a missing boy–living in Gotham meant a new tragedy every day–yet, you remember being shocked that something would happen to that bright young boy, grinning ear to ear in the school picture the news showed. 

You were only twelve, but you can think back and see so vividly the magic behind that smile, and how sad you were to realize that this boy, who could have very well gone to school with your sister, was gone… How sad he must be, you remember thinking, to be without his family. 

He was quite the mystery to you, more so after becoming friends with Tim, his brother who would so rarely mention him. It was when you saw him slouching at the dinner table and arguing with Dick, that your curiosity came back, you couldn’t believe it–he was so handsome, prettier than the newspaper made him look, and so tall, but you remembered Tim… Remembered how upset he got when Hannah Beauchamp asked him for his brother’s telephone number, so all you did was smile and say hello. 

After that you saw Jason more often, always quiet, always bright, but it was still glaringly rare… You never knew when he’d be there, unlike Dick who is unquestionable in his loyalty to family functions, Jason could be everywhere and nowhere all at once. Thus, the only surefire way to see him, is to go to Dick’s birthday, a gathering that Jason always appears at, showing his rare smile and a rare wish to his big brother. 

You can’t be uninvited, you really can’t be… 

“Timmy, you know I love you,” you say, giggling at the way his nose scrunches, “Please let me go with you to Dick’s party? Please please please!! I didn’t mean it, it’s so hard to make fun of you!” 

You know you’ve won when his head tilts, nose sticking straight up like an aristocrat in a children’s novel, you know you’ve won because he sighs into a sweet smile–bringing his hand up to muss your hair. 

“You know I can’t go anywhere without you, Chicken.” At his words you unceremoniously jump at him, encircling him into your grasp and squealing out ‘thank you’s.’ “But,” you groan. “You have to come with me tonight… If I have to hear Damian go on and on about Casseiopeia, you do too.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

The party was in full force when you arrived, music blaring, couples kissing, the whole nine; It smelled like sweat and tequila, and fancy perfume, and you wished you could feel this way more often.

Tim doesn’t like going out, doesn’t feel safe bringing you out into the Gotham nightlife–your best friend, sweet and loyal and protective, over his family, over you… You know he’s just looking out for you, but the frustrated sighs and the “that place isn’t safe for a little Chicken like you,” get exhausting. He gets frustrated when you go out by yourself, insistent that your group of girls would be much safer if you guys partied at home, yet he never seems to have a problem if his brothers are there too… more eyes on you, he says when you ask. 

Still, you wouldn’t trade him for the world–how lucky were you, that your best friend cared so much… 

He had gasped when he picked you up, a caricature of your sisters and girlfriends: he squealed and told you he loved your dress, (as if he wasn’t the one who paid for it), a routine that was familiar and warm. He’d driven you both himself, complaining about traffic and assholes who don’t use their blinker, he was telling you about his day and the “insolent” acts Damian committed at school. It was rather nice, just you and Tim listening to shitty pop-punk and laughing, a familiar scene that’s gotten rarer and rarer as his responsibilities have piled on. 

He had squeezed your hand before getting out of the car, smiling at you with earnest eyes and a mischievous grin, and told you: “If Dick’s friend Wally hits on you, tell him I still have the pictures from last summer.” 

You were a ball of nerves in the elevator, stomach dropping as it went up, up, up to the Penthouse, shying away from the stares and whispers that follow Tim around. But now, encased in house music and the saccharine smell of young lust and birthday magic, your anxiety eases and the smile you send your best friend’s way is finally sincere. 

He takes your hand to lead you through the erratic rhythm of dancing bodies, sending dirty looks to men who look at you too long, leading you through the suite like he’s Orpheus on a mission. He doesn’t turn back to smile at you until you’ve reached your destination, the large rooftop patio where the pool lives, here you find Dick–front flipping into the pool fully clothed. His form is perfect, spinning into the water with a ballerina like elegance, a visage so striking against the electronica pumping through the night. 

He comes up for air with far less grace, however, shaking his hair out like a dog and yelling at Kory to join him. When he sees his little brother, his face breaks into the most earth-shattering smile, before he breaks into senseless giggles–telling everyone, “You guys! My baby brother Timmy is here!” 

Tim, a boy who loves his brothers more than anyone except maybe you, grins at the older boy's voice–pulling you along to greet him properly. 

“Happy birthday, Dick!” You tell him, voice raising to be heard over the music and the squealing euphoria of his guests.

“Oh my! Timmy’s little Chicken is here!” Dick’s fondness for you is no surprise, as a professional older brother it is his job to love everyone his siblings love. “Jason! Look who's here!”

It's almost comical how fast you look up, how curious you are to see him, so curious you don’t hear Tim’s sigh or the way his hold on your arm tightens. Like Magic, Jason stands in front of you, leaning against a wall like a poor parody of James Dean. He looks a bit put out, a little annoyed to be interrupted in what looks like a riveting conversation with Roy Harper– a man you’ve only ever met through Tim’s phone on nights when he goes out without you. 

“Hey guys,” He says, friendly enough yet you can’t help but notice how much tenser he looks now that Tim stands before him. “Timmy, I heard you’re taking up more and more roles at Dad’s,” he sounds strained, but it’s obvious that he’s trying. 

“Yeah, our little baby brother is awesome, Bird, but let’s not forget it’s my turn to receive your  compliments.” Dick exclaims, panting a bit from treading water. 

“Yeah, yeah, Dickie, you just gotta wait for it, man.” Jason says, before turning back to Roy, you know at once that their exchange is over, you’re not sure what happened… It seems almost like Tim and Jason fought, niceties were exchanged, yes, but the look in their eyes: exhausted and awkward, says more than the short conversation they shared. 

They get like this sometimes, a phenomenon you don’t quite understand… You’ve witnessed moments where they seem like best friends, joking and joining together in teasing Damian, yet there's other times… Moments like this, when it seems like there's years of separation and frustration between them. 

You can feel Tim pulling you away, his hold on your hand a little tighter than you would like it to be… You can hear Dick yelling at him to stay, ‘the waters nice and warm,’ he yells, yet it's obvious he’s not too worried about it once Kory swims over to him. More than anything you can see Jason, nodding at you from his place against the wall–his drink tipping your way as if to say goodbye. 

You’re still a little confused when Tim drags you back into the suite to dance, finding Conner and Stephanie along the way. The four of you twirl and laugh and drink, the boys spinning you and Steph around and around–passing the two you back and forth until you're dizzy and drunk. Tim’s hands steady you, leading you in a crazy dance the two of you made up junior year, and grinning when you drunkenly tell him you love him. The night is alive, it’s burning with winter yearning and the feeling that you’d never be this young again. How you love your friends, how you wonder what's ailing them. 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

The music is thunderous, eating away at your ear drums and seeping into your bones until your body sings along. You’re not sure what time it is any more, or where Tim went… Your last memory is Conner giving you his jacket before pulling your friend away, a sight that made you giggle and roll your eyes. Steph’s seemed to disappear too, leaving you all alone on the dance floor, swaying in time with the music and whispering jokes to nobody. 

The crowd seems to have gotten bigger and the drinks stronger, a revelation that sends you in search of Tim or Dick, or someone you know. Yet, you can’t find them anywhere, off with Conner and Kory surely, abandoning you with only vodka and an empty chip bowl to keep you company. The party seems lonelier now, the music dull and throbbing in your ears, and all the dancing seems out of rhythm. It’s almost like you’ve stepped out of the faery ring, released yourself from an enchantment, and now everything that was once magic is all wrong. 

That things happening, that thing where you begin to have nostalgia for the moment you’re in, a kind of bittersweetness veiling over your eyelids as you take in the dark room. This happens sometimes, where you get a sudden case of the blues–too much adrenaline, too much happiness for one person, so it comes out as sad. It doesn’t help that you’re all alone, that Tim left you to go kiss Conner and you don’t really know anyone else, not truly–not the way you need to know them for a moment like this. 

You find yourself on the stairs, leaning against the railing as you attempt to regain your balance. The world seems to be spinning, whether it's from the alcohol or all the dancing you’re unsure of, yet the sky seems to be under your feet. You wished Tim was here… he always knew what to do, always knew how to make you laugh when you’re sad and get you home without a scratch… Stupid Conner, you think, stealing your best friend from you when you need him most… typical. 

It's minutes later that you feel someone nudging you awake, shaking you from your place on the stairs. The person's hands are rough and warm and gentle, easing you back into consciousness, accompanied by  whispers of “come on, little one.” 

You don’t feel very good, the alcohol and the sadness filling your throat with the taste of vomit, yet you find it in yourself to look up. Light invades your senses and that same blaring electronica finds a home in your ears again, a repeated refrain of call on me beating into your bones. You find the eyes of the intruder, green like summer; they’re looking down at you in concern, all squinty like a crescent moon. It's not until the song changes that you realize it’s Jason looking at you, your mystery come to find you. 

“Jason?” you ask, your voice covered in sleep and intoxication. “What are you doing here?” 

“I could ask you the same thing, Where’s Timmy?” 

“Off with Conner.” You harrumph, sneering at his name as if they aren’t two of your most treasured friends. 

“And he left you all alone?” He looks a little surprised by this, and a little upset, a combination that will surely keep you up thinking about what it means. 

“Yeah, can you believe that?! He’s a treacherous traitor who betrayed me.” 

“You know, I’m pretty sure all those things mean the same thing.” He laughs a little, and you wish you were sober just so you could really hear him, the fear you feel that you might not remember this fills you with dread. It's so rare that you get to see him, so rare that you get to talk to him without Tim around to make things different and tense… your crush on Jason is not so hidden, a truth that eats at you in moments like this. You’re sure they probably all know, can all see how flustered you get around him, but you’d never act on it–you’d never do anything to hurt Tim, (that includes kissing his brothers), thus you pretend like it doesn’t affect you as much as it does. But here now, with Jason sitting next to you on the stairs, sharing space and oxygen and more words than you’ve ever spoken to each other before, you feel it becoming harder and harder to pretend. 

“Why are you sitting with me, Jason?” You ask him.

‘What?” He replies, eyes wide in shock or maybe confusion. “You’re my little brother’s best friend and you’re asleep on the stairs, why wouldn’t I be sitting with you.” His voice is pure Gotham, it brings a smile to your lips. 

“I see, is it just because I’m Timmy’s best friend.” 

“Are you flirting with me, Casanova?” he laughs, bringing a bottle of water up to his lips. 

“Never ever, Mr. Todd, I swear it, cross my heart.” You can see how he’s smiling, goofier than you’ve ever seen it, less sculpted than the usual smirky grin he wears around his brothers. 

“You’re drunk.” He says, before handing you his bottle of water, “Drink.” He says it like a command, like something you couldn’t say no to even if you tried, so you listen, yet you can’t stop thinking about his lips around it just a few seconds before. It invades your senses– the image of his rosebud lips curling around the top like a kiss… What is a kiss if not two mouths touching? What is a kiss without a kiss? Shared saliva and phantom smiles pressing against your own? 

One of his large hands goes to the bottom of the plastic bottle–tipping it up further as if to get you to drink more, his eyes swallow you, commanding eye contact as the water tumbles down your throat. “That’s a good girl.” He tells you, voice low and pleasing. It’s only when the bottle is empty that he takes his hand away, lowering the bottle from your lips and looking back into the humid party. 

How handsome he is, you think, it’s obvious he dressed up a little more for this than when you usually see him. He’s in all black, slacks and t-shirt displaying some 90s anime, he even has jewelry on: silver rings and heavy chains around his neck… He looks ravishing, like someone should take him home before other people can perceive him. You remember that first time you saw him, that fifteen year old boy on the news who looked like Peter Pan; you remember how you felt when you read that he was missing, if only you could have told yourself you would have found him one day. 

“Jason?” You whisper, “Where did you go?” He’s surprised at the question, that much is obvious, but he doesn’t seem mad, more tired; exhausted by the memory. 

“Neverland.” He whispers back, a response that brings a smile to your lips even though it’s not an answer. 

“What was it like?” 

“Hmm,” he says, thinking about his answer. “Well, it was pretty, there were pirates and mermaids, and little fairy girls like you.” That makes you laugh, a big booming thing that escapes. 

“I’m a little fairy girl, now?” 

“Oh yeah, I saw you spinning earlier… round and round like you were trying to fly.” 

“Well, I’m all out of pixie dust.” You tell him, which brings that goofy smile back to his pretty face. 

He doesn’t say anything else, just sits quietly with you, humming songs he knows and snorting at the drunken antics of Dick’s guests. It’s nice, just sitting with him–there is no need to fill the space, just peace and quiet. Finally, when you’re feeling sober enough to be a little worried by his answer, you ask, “Why’d you leave? I mean what made you come home?” 

It takes him a moment to answer, but when he does it’s full of secrets and saved up sadness, his voice gruff with the memory of it. “I just had to grow up I guess.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

Days later you’re still thinking about that conversation on the stairs, how sad he looked… how vulnerable and young he appeared. When Tim finally showed himself, he was shocked to find you with his brother, thanking him over and over again for keeping you company. You remember how Jason smiled, sweet and sleepy, before he said No problem, Timmy, you just get her home safe. It’s less of a memory and more of a dream, like you went off to Neverland too. 

It was difficult to find sleep that night, too shaken and embarrassed by your own behavior… Nerves ate at your brain every time you thought about how natural it was to talk to him, nerves that only got worse when you wake up to a text from an unknown number: 

 ‘Hey, fairy girl, it’s J. just want to make sure you got back alright’ 

It filled you with heat and parasitic flutters in your belly, but you couldn’t answer… couldn’t get over the guilt you felt when imagining Tim’s reaction, no matter how innocent it all was. So you left it alone, didn’t answer him and went on with your day as normal as you could make it: lunches with Tim and group chat gossip with Duke and Stephanie, anything that could distract you from the fire blazing in your veins. 

You were still a little cross with Tim for leaving you all alone, but after making him take you out to breakfast and promise to buy you whatever you wanted for the next week, you thought you’d cut him some slack. He was acting a little weird, he kept making that face that only conjures itself when he’s trying to figure something out, and he repeatedly asked you if Jason said anything interesting to you– a question that has you shaking your head every time.

His words were just for you, you knew that more than you knew anything, so even though it was unfamiliar, you kept it from your best friend. 

It’s been a week since that fateful night, a week full of sleeplessness and butterflies when you thought about his bright eyes and warm hands. You’ve always had a bit of a crush, but now it's stifling–incinerating you with the absolute truth of it. Even here at work it suffocates you, presses down in between the dark archives of old newspapers and preserved textiles. It's just another day of paperwork and organization, studying old books on Cherry Hill in hopes to find something that could help stop the impending gentrification. 

Tim’s on his way with lunch, something Alfred cooked up to be sure, an exciting but slightly unnerving prospect. You’ve never been afraid of your best friend before, but you’ve also never kept a secret from him… you know it's not a big deal, so what if you and Jason had a sleepy drunken conversation at Dick’s birthday party? It wasn’t like you kissed! Hell, his hands barely even touched your skin except to wake you up, yet the fear of hurting Tim is so massive and encompassing you can’t help but feel like you need to hide it. 

You hear him say hello to your coworkers, hear his graceful steps down into the basement, he takes the stairs two at a time. When he finally arrives in front of you, he is jovial–smiling wider than you’ve seen in awhile. He dawdles on, handing you your lunch and telling you about how Alfred made twice the amount so all his kids could have some. It’s nice to hear him speak about his family, you relish in it… how happy he sounds when he speaks of his brothers, Alfred and Stephanie, the smile in his voice when he tells you you’re invited to another Friday Dinner. 

“Barbara and Kory are coming too, you’ll be there, yeah?” 

“Yeah, Definitely,” You tell him, but your heart isn’t in it. Tim notices it, of course he does, but he doesn’t call it out. You’ve been acting strange lately, but he trusts that you’d come to him if you really needed help. He stays until you both finish your lunch, kissing you on the head before he heads back towards the WE building; the guilt creeps back in when he leaves, roots of shaming entangling you like vipers. 

This routine follows you into the week, Tim bringing lunch and stories of Conner and Duke and the mischief they’ve gotten themselves into. Your work kept you busy, working late into the night– the book you found on the Founding of Gotham was interesting, and it was proving to be rather helpful in proving your suspicions that the original City Hall was located in the Cherry Hill suburb of Gotham City. You hoped you’d be able to find all the sources you needed, but it was becoming a bigger and bigger project than you ever realized–a project that was impeding on your life. 

It was late into the afternoon when Jason came to see you, bringing with him a smile and something hidden in his book bag. 

“Knock-knock, Little fairy, can I come in?” He asks you, halting on the last step. It's dark down here, lit only with lamps and reading lights, still he is beautiful–the white streak in his hair curling down over his eyes. He looks rather comfy, wrapped up in a sweater and a leather jacket, his book bag crossing over his chest and falling around his hip. God, he’s lovely, and he’s here… Why is he here? 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, startled by his presence and the life it brings. 

“I wanted to bring you some flowers,” He tells you, a secret smile playing on his lips. You look at his empty hands, a confused grin finding its way to your face. 

“Where are the flowers, Jason?” You laugh, although it halts when that goofy grin emerges again. Looking at you slyly he takes something out from his bag, pulling out a stack of books and handing them to you. Still confused you shuffle the pile to read each title,

 Dandelion Wine, White Oleander, The Chrysanthemums, Daisy Miller, The Secret Garden… 

Oh dear, you think, how sweet is this boy? And why? After you’d ignored his message… 

“Flowers,” he says, tilting his head towards you, that charming smile still living on his face. 

Who is this wonderful, handsome boy? When his brothers speak of him, they describe him as gruff and unlikable–mean and sulky. Yet this Jason is bright and euphoric, sweet and happy and mischievous…

He brought you flowers… flowers that you could keep on your shelf forever; stories of life and sadness and magic. 

“Oh my,” you say, “Thank you, Jason.” 

“Of course, I wanted to make sure you were okay…” He hesitates for a minute before continuing on, “Y’know, you never answered my text and I thought maybe Dickie gave me the wrong number.” 

“Oh, no it was the right number,” you sigh. “I just don’t want Tim to feel weird about the two of us becoming friends…” 

“Are we becoming friends then,” he asks you, eyes brighter than before. He looks so young like this, starry eyed and grinning like he won a blue ribbon. 

“I don’t know, Jason, are we?” 

“I’m inclined to say yes, fairy girl. I don’t steal books from the library for just anyone.” 

Shocked, you turn the books over and sure enough, the library's barcode sits against the hardcover. 

“Jason! What the hell?! You can’t just steal from the library!” You yell, yet all he does is laugh. It’s such a pretty sound, deep and melodious like a song you can’t forget the words to. You wonder how often he really laughs like this, true and belly-full, like he means it. 

“I work at the library, Sugar, don’t worry.” He rasps out, “I’m the person who has to buy the new books anyway… so don’t worry about it.” The pet name rolls off his tongue salaciously, finding its way into your tummy, filling you with warmth and a vision of him at Gotham City Public Library. You’re not sure how you never knew, how you never saw him there in your late night book runs for your work. It fills you with fondness and makes your smile somehow brighter than it already was. 

“Well, thank you anyway, J.” You tell him. “Really, no one's ever given me flowers before.” 

When his eyes meet yours the floor shakes beneath you, destabilizing you into nervous fidgeting and shy smiles. You can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe your mystery is standing in front you–vulnerable and handsome and smiling. He brought you flowers… God, what are you going to tell Tim? 

You see he’s getting ready to leave, so you ask (quicker than you thought possible,) “Do you wanna stay for a while? I’m just reading through some sources, but it might be better with company?” The smile he gives you is serendipitous, magical and dreamlike. 

He stays with you long into the night, reading all the left pages as you read the right and sharing his own suspicions. He mentions books at the library that might be useful, and tells you how cool he thinks what you’re doing is, he smiles the whole time. It's late when you finish, yawning and blinking away the strain, he looks more and more like that school picture you once fawned over– young and happy, Peter Pan. 

He insists on walking you home, leading you through the still busy Gotham Streets with a hand grazing your back and a watchful eye on the city. Every once in a while he stops to make sure you’re going the right way, and to ask if you’re still alright, a question that brings a smile to your lips and goosebumps on your skin. 

When you finally make it home, skin bitten cold and his jacket hanging off your shoulders, he smiles faintly at you, bringing his hand up to push a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. 

As he turns to leave he tells you, 

“Don’t forget to get those flowers in some water, see you Friday,” And with the way your heart stops, you know you’re doomed. 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

Tim Drake is lots of things, but a fool is not one of them. He sees how different Jason is acting during patrol: stumbling over ledges and pulling out the wrong gun. He’s been weird since Dick’s party, quicker to smile and more interested in you than ever before… he remembers seeing Jason try to covertly listen to the Comm when Dick asked Tim how you were,

 “How’s Chicken Little doing, Timmy?” 

But before he could answer, Damian swiftly responded: 

“She doesn’t like it when you guys call her that, can’t you see her nose scrunch up in disgust? Honestly you’re all a bunch of buffoons.” 

Tim, however offended he might be at Damian thinking he knows you better than him, couldn’t help but focus on Jason instead. His face might be covered by his mask, yet his body language is unmistakable–he’s more interested than he should be. 

“Might I remind all of you, she is off limits, do not disturb, dead end… I will kill you and send your entrails to Lex Luthor to make some weird clone of you if you even think about it.” This message is for all of them, but you’d have to be stupid to not realize it was really only for Jason–Dick and Kory have been basically engaged since they were 20 and Damian still drinks bug juice for God’s Sake… the only other person it could be is Duke, but if the gagging sounds he’s making over the comm mean anything, he doesn’t need to be worried. 

Nobody says anything for a second, laughter from Dick and Duke creeping in through his ear piece, yet it all stops when Jason speaks up for the first time that night. 

“You know, you really should let her make her own decisions… She’s not a little girl.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean, Hood?” Tim asks, getting actually truly angry for the first time. There’s a reason why he tried to keep you to himself in the beginning of your friendship, he knows you think it’s because he didn’t want you to date his brothers, but really he didn’t want to have to share another thing. So much of his life belongs to his family, he just wanted one thing to belong to him. 

“Don’t get angry, please, Birdie?” Jason replies, there's no heat in it, just exhaustion. 

“What. Do. You. Mean? Hood?” Tim says again, getting more and more frustrated by the minute. 

“I just mean she’s a grown up, and she should be allowed to talk to whoever she wants to, even if it weirds you out.” 

It strikes Tim as something that wouldn’t bother him if it was about anyone but you, if it was Steph or Bart or Cassie, it wouldn’t have mattered. But it is you, the first friend he’s had that's entirely his own–you’re his best friend in the entire world, the person he loves the most, and he doesn’t need anyone, especially not Jason Todd, telling him how he should act with you. 

“Keep your advice to yourself, Red Hood,” Tim barks out to his brother, yet there's a piece of him that's thinking about what he said, a voice in the back of his head that tells him maybe he should listen. 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

When Tim calls you to tell you not to come to family dinner, you can’t help but be confused and a little hurt. Sure, he said he’d just come over to yours instead, but the thought that someone was upset with you, or worse that Tim used his brilliant brain to suss out your crush before you could tell him, and now he’d never let you back around his brothers again, whittled its way into your heart and wouldn’t let go. 

You never wanted to do anything that would hurt Tim, he’s the person who you trust most in the world, the only person you could say confidently that you would kill or be killed for. You love him, infallibly and wholly, and thinking that he might be hurt by something you’ve done, even as innocent as a couple moonlit conversations with his brother, consumes you into a hellmouth of anxiety. 

He arrives at seven, the time he said he’d pick you up for family night, but instead of meeting you at your door, he barrels in. There’s a wild look in his eyes, a look you’ve only seen once– when your Philosophy 204 professor fell over and began to aspirate through a seizure–it’s painful and worried, and you wonder what's making him so upset now. However, when you ask, all he does is shake his head, almost like he’s trying to shake out the worries, pound them out like water in your ears. He looks beyond you, into your kitchen and his sighs become heavier and more sporadic, did he run here? 

“I’m trying to figure something out,” He tells you, his voice kinder than his body language made it seem like it would be, yet you’re not surprised–in the five years of being his friend, he’s never once raised his voice at you. 

“Okay, what's up?” You ask, anxious. 

“Are you and Jason in love? Are you having some sort of gross affair?” 

“What?!” You exclaim, sure you have a crush on Jason, and yes you think it would be quite easy to fall in love with him, but come on… Two conversations and childhood crush don’t suddenly turn into an affair. 

“Don’t “what” me, Chicken! I have Jason telling me to treat you like a grown up and now I walk in here and his jacket is hanging from my chair… MY CHAIR!” He says, shocking a laugh out of you, “The chair I sit in, god what has life come to?” 

“Timmy, we’re not having an affair, he just walked me home after bringing me something at work.” You approach him like a snake tamer, slow and kind in your steps–the same steps you saw the zoo keeper take the last time you and Tim brought Damian to Gotham Zoo. 

“But you like him?” He asks, suspicious and guarded. You can’t tell what’s happening in his head, can’t seem to read his mind like you usually can, so instead you let your hands fall onto his shoulders–fingers splaying out to run through the hair on his neck. 

“Yes,” You say, quiet as a mouse. “Is that okay?” 

Tim lets his head fall into your tummy, blowing out a big gasp of air into your shirt, which makes you laugh and push him away. 

“Of course it’s okay, Chicken… I just want you to be happy.” He sighs, “I just don’t really know if you will be happy with him… my brother he’s,” He hesitates, thinks about how he should say this without ruining anything, before he continues: “Jay’s complicated, what happened fucked him up… really bad. And I love you, more than him, more than anyone–you’re my girl. I don’t want you to feel trapped in a bad situation, and feel like you can’t come to me cause he’s my brother… I’ll always be on your side.” 

You smile and let out what feels like all the air in your lungs. How you love your stupid, silly, best friend, as if Jason would ever make you feel trapped and horrible when all he ever wants to do is be free? 

“You don’t have to worry about me, Timmy, I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” The nickname makes him smile, brings him back to college when all you guys would do was watch Chicken Little and drink bottled sweet tea, when you’d call him Timmy and beg him to let you prank call his dad. Yet, the sentiment makes him sad, how are you a big girl if you’re both still just kids? He doesn’t feel that grown up yet. 

“That’s what he said you know,” He replies. “Just, why didn’t you tell me?” He’s watching you, looking at you in that way that makes you spill all your secrets, so you tell him, 

“I didn’t want to upset anyone, and I don’t know if he even likes me back, so..” 

“Are you crazy?! Of course he likes you, my brother hates literally every single person he interacts with other than Alfred, yet he’s coming to your work to surprise you? Come on.” He’s laughing though it sounds a little pained. It does little to comfort your swirling thoughts. You’re so happy Tim’s not angry, so happy that he’s not throwing you onto the curb like you expected, but he still seems so sad. 

You wish you could swaddle him up and make everything okay, promise that you’d never stop being friends, make sure he knows that you’re not going away–that all of this is a little dramatic for a little crush. 

“Are you okay, Timmy? With the chance that something might happen between me and Jason?” 

“Yeah, Chickadee, just…” he sighs, “Don’t forget what I said, okay? About him being complicated.” You nod, but before you can say anything, he speaks up again. “And, Chicken? Remember our pact about getting married for taxes… it’s you and me spending our afterlives together, not you and Jason.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

You wake the next morning a bundle of limbs and sleepy energy, Tim is barely conscious next to you and the apartment smells faintly of cheetos and ramen; you’d spent the night watching Avatar: The Last Airbender and reminiscing about the good old days. You told him about everything that's happened with Jason, starting from that first sight of his missing poster and ending with the bouquet of books. He was obviously a little grossed out to be talking about his brother in this way, but it felt good to see you so giggly and happy. 

He’d felt bad for making you skip out on family night, a feeling of guilt that shook in his bones as his father and eldest brother texted him about skivving out on family bonding. But, he wouldn’t go back to change it, he was so afraid he was going to lose you, that you’d get tired of him and make friends with other people, that having this night with you was well worth all the lectures he was going to have to put up with. 

He’s watching you now, anxious and blushing, and he can’t help but feel in awe of you–his pretty best friend, really crushing on someone for the first time. Some part of him is glad that person is Jason, at least then he won’t feel too bad about breaking his nose if he starts any shit with you. 

“Everythings gonna be okay,” He says, using your first name in a rare scene of seriousness. 

“Yeah, I know.” You tell him. “I just, don’t wanna ruin anything.” 

“You know, he’s working today… might wanna bring him some flowers.” 

⋆.ೃ࿔.𖥔 ݁ ˖*:･༄ 

The library is alive, warm and inviting like a lover’s embrace. It smells like parchment and dust and clorox wipes, a combination that instantly brings you back to school–elementary crushes and schoolyard gossip. 

There’s not very many people here, too early on a school day for anyone to really be finding solace between the aisles, but you see him. Jason sits behind the front desk, wiry glasses settled on his nose and a book in his lap. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too absorbed in his work to really be paying attention. For a minute, you just stand and admire him–this mysterious creature who walked into your life and never left. All these feelings are brand new and ancient… romantic and friendly, respect and admiration. It would all be so easy, with him–to lose yourself in love and friendship–you want it so badly. 

You can see it so vividly, waking up with him and spending nights intertwined, reading together and researching maniacally. Falling for him is easy, loving him will be hard you know, but seeing him now: pretty and warm in the afternoon light makes the decision rather easy. 

“I’d like to return some books,” you say once you’ve reached him, startling him out of his reverie. 

He can’t believe it’s you, beautiful and bright–like a protagonist out of an Austen novel. He thought he’d never be allowed near you again, thought he ruined it all by bringing you up to Tim, but here you were–lovely like the morning. You’re carrying books, flowers, and your smile is starlight. 

“Well, right this way, Ma’am.” He tells you, once he finds his voice. “I didn’t realize you could replant flowers after you’ve picked them.” He’s teasing you, but really he’s not sure why you’ve brought the books back–is it a way to let him down? Or are you just returning the favor? 

He leads you into the back, unprofessional sure, but he needs to be alone with you. You’re so anxious, he can tell… he needs to be able to reach out and feel you. 

“I just felt like you deserved flowers too, Jay.” You tell him, sweet and lovely like always. 

“Hmm, well I refuse them… they’re all yours, I already replaced them.” His eyes are mischievous again, burning with joy as they stare into yours. You’re reminded of that night on the stairs, when he made you drink water and burned you alive. 

“I talked to Tim,” You tell him, watching as his smile drops. 

“Let me guess, he told you I’m bad news and doesn’t want you around me, right?” He asks, rough with the hurt of past bruises. 

“Actually, he told me you’re bad news but he’s trusting me to be able to handle it.” Jason looks surprised, his summer green eyes wide with shock. He guessed he never really thought Tim would be okay with it… 

He remembers seeing you for the first time: soft and gorgeous in the lowlight of the manor, he was sitting with Damian and remembers how the breath shot out of his lungs at the sight of you. Dami’s been teasing him about it for years now, bringing you up to piss Tim off and making plans for you to bring him to the planetarium on days when Jason said he’d pick him up–like a goddam parenttrap. He thinks back to that night on the stairs a few weeks ago, you looked so pretty spinning around with your friends, like Thumbelina. When he found you on the stairs he was panicked: worried about you and worried about Tim who never left your side, but you were still just so pretty. 

He can’t believe you here now, bringing him flowers and his brother’s approval. He’s waited for this for so long, for the okay from the one person dearest to you, the one person who could make Jason actually care about listening to him. 

“He really said that?” Jason asks you, hesitant and careful like he’s worried you’re playing a joke on him. 

“He really said that,” You reply, laughing when Jason pulls you into a hug. He holds you for a few minutes, feels the air in your lungs press into his belly as you breathe in and out, it feels so good to have you here, to know that he’s not making anything worse by wanting you. 

“So that means you’ll go out with me then, fairy girl?” he asks you, his rough fingers moving up to grasp your chin, tilting it up so you’re looking into his eyes. He waits for you to nod, then waits for the word, yes, to emerge from your pretty lips, before lowering down to kiss your forehead. He feels you sigh, feels your hands shake from their place on his arms, his kisses move down down down until they meet the corner of your lips. You're smiling slightly, like you’re having a happy dream, and when he kisses you for real that smile becomes a big grin. 

It’s all teeth and laughter and the awkwardness of a first kiss, but Jason holds you up and lets you gasp into his mouth and swallows your sighs. He licks into your mouth and clashes his teeth against yours and calls you his fairy, his magic girl come to take him back to Neverland. He holds you tighter and tighter, and feels you shake under his affection, how lovely it is, how badly he wants to make your bones rattle. 

“I’ll bring you more flowers on our date, sugar.” He tells you, kissing the underside of your jaw, before pulling away. He’s sad he has to let you go, frustrated that he has to stay at work while you get to go and hang out with Tim and Damian at the Museum all day, but the kiss you press into his hand–innocent and earnest–makes it worth it. 

He leads you out of the back room and into the well-lit main entrance, pausing only to grab his book from the front desk. “By the way, I found this while I was stacking shelves, I thought it might be useful for your project.” 

In his hands is a book titled Gotham City’s Founding Buildings, and on the cover, miraculously an illustration of Cherry Hill. 

It’s too easy to fall in love with him, you think again, smiling as you pull him into another kiss.

[bullet-xo]

no one understands how proud i am for graduating hs bcs i genuinely tried to kill myself whilst everyone else jokes about it

also graduated w no friends and idk how to cheer myself up from that

[mityenka]

when you grew up as a lonely uncool girl it will never stop haunting you by the way. you will meet a cool person at a bar or the train station or at a friend's party and you can wear your most stylish outfit and striking eye makeup and you will swear that they can see through all of the facade and see the lonely terribly insecure teenage girl you used to be who desperately wanted to connect and you will swear that they know that there is like an insurmountable gap between you. this will happen forever

[exnihilo444]

[newgodpho]

Secretary (2002)

[dietmountaindew-girly]

Secretary (2002)

directed by Steven Shainberg

[slimecita]

summer mood

[martiniluvr]

rae sremmurd is so no capes uni student!jason todd like…black beatles. no type. come get it. dim lights, house party, solo cups, cheap liquor…yeah. u feeling me?

[xxrougefangxx]

Jason Todd x Reader fic recs

This is originally made for @marinas-trench , but anybody can use this. Will update as I find more

Added little notes in pink to specify some stuff, includes BOTH platonic and romantic works.

Anybody who does use these recs please try to reblog works- that's the Tumblr algorithm likes don't do anything- to help the authors out <3 (no pressure tho)

-----

Authors because I can't pick a favorite work:

DC Masterlist by @sanguineterrain - The works speak for themselves.

@jasmines-library - Includes lots of platonic batfamily x reader and the hurt/comfort is just *chefs kiss*

@morverenmaybewrites Ao3 link- Her works are just godsend. She portrays Jason in such a beautiful way and acknowledges his trauma as well.

@minnieearsposts Ao3 Link - Jason works are 10/10, but she also has many other fics that connect with each other. Definitely recommend

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - All of the au's are just magnificent! There's no master list but you can check the works out using tags.

Batfam masterlist by @book-place - All works are platonic

@writersfailure - Honestly a gold mine, check out their dc master list and other fics as well!

@wh1sp3rr - The jackpot at the end of the rainbow. That's all I'm going to say

@dccomicsimagines - Amazing pieces of work that I can't believe I didn't find before.

Series :

love is not designed for the cynical by @thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels - The thoughts and emotions are portrayed SO BEAUTIFULLY!!! And while Jason is just spectacular, I also recommend the other series as well.

What we want by @sophiethewitch1 - It's with all the batboys

Crimson Red by @ravenna-reid - Has multiple parts all located on the master list.

Guard Dog by @mostly-imagines

Your secrets are ours, kid by@jaythes1mp - Platonic and yandere

again &. again masterlist by @acid-ixx - Platonic and yandere

Bye, Bye, Miss American Pie by @urmoonlightbebe - I can't believe I almost forgot to add this here

Batfam x neglected reader by @dickgraysonass - Platonic

Gilded Cage by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes

Headcannons/Drabbles:

Girl!DadJason by @in-som-niyah

Reaction to you letting go of their hand by @gay-dorito-dust - Its paired up with both Dick and Damian

Existentional Crisis by @millyhelp

College student!Jason by @orchidsangel

BabyDaddy! Jason fic idea by @kuromitos

Unnamed by @aldryrththerainbowheart

Saturdays by @zer0wzs

Unnamed by @misdeliria

Artist!Reader by @charliedakotariley - This is so wholesome I love it

Fics:

JasonTodd x Fem!Reader by @spidernuggets - reader gets stuck in a time loop to save Jason

sickly sweet romance of u & jay by @wh1sp3rr

Unnamed by @millyhelp

tired and touchstarved!Jason by @indulgentdaydream

A Spoonful of Honey by @stararch4ngelqueen

Golden by @orionremastered

Reader who likes Superman more than Batman by @spidernuggets

Reader who prefers Superman more than batman (different fic than above) by @gay-dorito-dust

Rescuer by @kimberly-spirits13

graceless by @udiudijaye - platonic batfam x batsis but love the fic and had to recommend

Take care by @batsycline69

Forensic Psychologist Reader by @ravenna-reid

What are you doing here? by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all

What a night by @batboysandgirls

call me your fool by @jasonsmirrorball

18+ Works MDNI

Til Death Do We Part Brings Us Together by @luvf4ngz - I love the au idea!

Jason distracting you from studying by @millyhelp

Slumber Party by @dollwritesarchive - Includes Dick

Thoughts on Jason being rough by @midnightorchids

jason 'don't run from this dick' todd by @killakalx

BabyDaddy!Jason by @hanasnx

Say Sorry by @dancewithdeath11

Jason fucking reader in the Batmobile by @martiniluvr

Series 18+

guns and roses masterlist by @jayswhorex

[monoiing]

Finally made a jason photocard!

[givemeantypsychotics]

please don't be mean to me bc i can be meaner and i hate being mean

[junetheraccoon]

i knew one day you’d get tired of me and all my shitty feelings.