em

you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love

[ems-typewriter]

em's blog ʚଓ

she/her twenty sagittarius written by olivia rodrigo probably reading

masterlist

thank you to each and every person who reads or interact with my posts in anyway ♡

dividers: @somebitchprobably-graphicdump & @strangergraphics

please do not modify or copy my work, and do not feed my work into ai

[ems-typewriter]

guys, im about to be at 200 followers (thank you so much) and i want to do something special for it. HOWEVER, i originally planned to do a fic based on each song from you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, but im wondering if i should do that if i get to a larger follower count, like 500, since it would take a lot of time to do all 13 and id rather not rush them and be proud of them

would y'all be okay with me doing a couple songs from a different album and waiting for you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love, or would you prefer me picking a few songs from you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love to write for instead of the whole album?

which would you prefer?

a few songs from another album and waiting for all olivias album

only picking a few songs from you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love

Remaining time: 6 days 21 hours

[ems-typewriter]

Late Night Dates

pairing: dick grayson x reader

summary: when reader has a bad date, she runs into dick on her way home

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, cursing, mention of sex (once), mention of reader drinking, fluff, no y/n

The stifling heat of Blüdhaven's humidity is starting to press against you and feel like it's seeping into your skin. Every step on the uneven concrete makes your feet ache a little bit more from your heels, but the promise of a warm bed and bottle of wine is the only thing keeping you putting one foot in front of the other. 

You should’ve known better than to go on a date with the guy you were talking to for a couple of days from Hinge. One would think you’d learn your lesson after multiple failed Hinge dates, but no, you kept trying. It all started okay—a nice restaurant, an easy greeting, but as time passed you started to see the red flags waving in front of your face. 

For close to an hour, you listened to your date talk and talk and talk. Never once did he ask about what you or your life, just kept droning on about himself to the point you tuned him out and just nodded along. At some point, you caught him talking about his ex-girlfriend and even going as far to compare the both of you. 

Then was the matter of the bill, which he asked to split, which would've been fine if he didn't tax you one dollar and fifty cents for trying a bite of his pasta—which he offered you to try—or telling you to split the price of the appetizer 75/25, since you ate seventy five percent of the mozzarella sticks.

And the cherry on top of the night: he asked if you wanted to go back to his house because he had such a great night, and when you politely told him you were pretty tired and just wanted to head back home, he claimed he lied and had the worst date ever before stomping off into the night. At least now you don’t have to worry about texting him to tell him you didn’t want to go out again. 

The walk to the subway is starting to feel infinite, and you’re getting ready to just call an Uber, when your phone rings in your purse. You grab it and quickly answer it after seeing the name Tim Drake, your best friend, calling you. 

“Hey, loser,” he drawls from the other side of the phone, “How’d the date go?”

“It was perfect. He brought me flowers, said I was the most stunning girl he's ever seen, had so much in common with me, and we finished it off by having banging hot sex in his car.” 

“Really?” 

“No. It sucked and he made me pay extra for the bite of his pasta that I tried.” 

“Shit. I’m sorry.” 

“It's fine.” You kick your foot against a rock. “I should’ve known better than to go on another Hinge date after swearing them off for a reason.”

“I don’t think I have patrol next Thursday. I could come down to Blüd and we could have a movie night?” 

Memories of the bad day movie night tradition pops into your head. Too many nights shared together watching shitty movies and eating take out after days would go from bad to worse.   “Yeah, I’d love that. Invite Kon too, I haven’t seen either of y’all in forever.” 

“I’ll make sure to let him know.” The quiet clacking of Tim’s keyboard pauses as he asks, “Seriously though, are you okay?”  

You take in the surprisingly quiet city around you as his question sinks in. “Yeah,” your voice is quieter than you’d like it to be, “I’m just a little lonely after moving, but I’m sure I’ll settle in here soon.” 

“You can always move back,” he hesitantly offers.

“You know I can’t. I wanted to start over and actually build a life for myself. I can do that here.  It's just… taking some time.” 

“Well, you always know there’s a couch for you to crash on if you are ever feeling homesick.” 

“I know and appreciate it, Timmy.” You pull the phone back to glance at the time. “I’m gonna go so I can keep heading home.”

“Text me when you’re home please so I know you didn’t get kidnapped.”

You say goodbye and hang up the phone, feeling that familiar weight pressing against you whenever you talk about how you still haven’t found where you belong in Blüdhaven after living here for 4 months. You’d thought by now everything would be perfect, but no, here you are walking back from a shitty da—

You're jarred from your thoughts as you watch your phone slip from your hand and align perfectly to slip through the gap of the metal grate on the sidewalk. You crouch in front of the grate to see the still lit screen mocking you from the dark pit it fell into. “No, no, no.” 

What the hell do you even do in this situation? Most places are closed this late at night, and even if they weren't, who on earth do you call to collect your phone? You’re so deeply stuck in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called out until the third time. You look up in the direction it came from just in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar three legged pitbull barrelling into you. 

Haley jumps into your lap, sending you falling onto your ass where you were crouching, but makes up for it as she greets you with such enthusiasm. You reach up to pet her head as she nussles against you. “Hi, Hales.” 

You glance over, catching sight of the all too familiar mop of inky black hair and piercing blue eyes that are now fixed on you. His mouth is tugged up in that perfect smile of his that pops the dimple on his right cheek, “Sorry. I didn’t think she’d literally knock you on your ass.”

Dick Grayson offers you a hand to stand back up, which you gratefully accept. Being best friends with Tim meant running into his long list of siblings often, and also forming friendships with them. Dick, however, was the only one you’d try to avoid as often as possible because you had the biggest crush on him. It started when you and Tim were 16, messing around with some of the gadgets you definitely shouldn’t have. You ended up falling, spraining your wrist and scraping your knees pretty badly. 

Dick had heard the commotion of crying and when he saw you there, Tim trying to calm you down, he stepped in. He was gentle as he moved your wrist around, coming to the conclusion it was a minor sprain, then used the first aid kit Tim brought over to clean and bandage your knees. You thanked him, gazing up at him as if he were your guardian angel, but after that narrowly avoided being left alone with him in fear you’d say something embarrassing. But now you're older and totally over it…

“It’s okay, I love seeing Haley anyways.”

He looks you over, finally seeing the formal outfit you wore for the date that now feels like it was weeks ago. “You look really nice,” he says as his eyes lock back onto yours. “Something special tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m on my way back from a date.”

“A date! That's great…” He trailed off when he saw the disappointment that lingered on your features. “Not great?”

“It was an unforgettable date, just not in a good way.” 

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad it didn’t work out anyways because I doubt he was going to be my soulmate.”

“His loss for missing out on the incredible woman that was right in front of him.”  

You duck your head as the heat rushes toward your face. Definitely not over the crush. 

“Why were you crouched down here earlier?”

You’re brought back from your daze of running into Dick, that you remember why you were even stopped here. “My phone. It dropped down there and I don’t know what to do.” You gesture to the grate. 

He follows your gaze, “Ah.” He ponders for a second, “Hold this and let me try.” He passes you Haley's leash and you watch as he leans down and grips the grate like he’s just going to lift the hundreds of pounds that separates you from your phone. Your jaw drops in shock as the sound of metal clashing together breaks the silence of the night. You watch him lifting the grate and shifting it enough to fit an arm through the side, then reaching down and grabbing your phone.

You starstuck, “You just lifted that.” 

He laughs easily as he wipes the dirt from your phone with his shirt, staining in the process. “Yeah, I did.” He casually hands you your cellphone back and moves the cover back into its slot. 

“And here I was thinking I was going to have to fumble around like a fool trying to get my phone back, when you just swooped in and made it look like it was nothing.” 

“Swooping in, as you put it, is both my day and night job.”

“Showoff,” you mumble as you hand Haley's leash back to him. “Thank you, though.” 

“You’re welcome.” He glances around before his gaze falls back onto your date night outfit. “Are you doing anything for the rest of the night?”

“Besides going home to watch a movie with ice cream and wine?”

He laughs, “Yeah, besides that.”

“Then…” You jokingly check your watch, “No, I’ve got absolutely nothing to do.” 

“How about grabbing some food with me? There's this food truck with amazing tacos just down the street.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I don’t want your night to end on a bad note. Besides, I’m sure Haley wouldn’t mind getting some of our scraps of food.” 

Hope bubbles in your chest, “Only if you’re sure and it won’t take away your time from anything.”

He nods, “I want to cheer you up.”

“Okay then, yeah.”

He offers his arm, which you hesitantly loop your own through. “Let's turn this night from a bad date, to the best date ever,” he says as he starts guiding both you and Haley into the direction of the food truck. You can’t help but feel grateful that the date ended up how it did, because it led you to this moment.

authors note: i really dont know how i feel about this one, but any writing is experience to learn from soooo im posting it

[ems-typewriter]

Asking Them To Pick You Up While You're Drunk

includes: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake

summary: you get drunk while out with friends and call your boyfriend to pick you up from the bar

word count: dick - 0.9k, jason - 1.0k tim - 1.0k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, cursing, reader is drinking, mention of stalker tim, fluff, comfort, use of pet names, no y/n

dick grayson

Saying yes to go out to the club with your friends seemed like a good idea at the time. You’d been working back to back shifts this past week—even staying longer when your manager asked you to—and when your friends asked if you wanted to hit the bar with them, it seemed like the perfect way to let loose. 

You’d taken over an hour getting ready to meet your friends at the club, the excitement building with each song you were playing from a “going out” playlist you found on spotify. The Uber had dropped you off outside the bar only a couple minutes late and when you found your friends, you immediately ordered a drink and were pulled to the dancefloor. 

Now, sitting at a booth y’all were able to grab after a group of guys abandoned it, you regret ever agreeing to tonight. The music is too loud, you’re already forming a headache, and there's too many people. You think you were on your fifth—no, definitely sixth drink, slumped against your friend's shoulder as they talk about the promising dates she’s been going on. You nod and hum along with her stories, but you're barely hanging onto consciousness. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” You announce to them when there's a break in the conversation.

“Do you want us to come with you?”

“No, it's okay, I'll be quick.” Reaching for your small bag, you leave the booth, pushing through the crowd of people at the bar till you reach the restrooms. Thankfully, there's one stall unoccupied, so you lock yourself in there before fumbling with your purse to get your phone, carefully not touching anything in the bathroom. You pull up the familiar contact name and press call before you can second guess your decision. 

“Baby? Is everything okay?” 

“Dickie!” Just hearing his voice made the smile on your face go drunkenly wide. “No, everything's not alright.”   

“What happened?” The anxiety in his tone is evident through your drunken haze.

“Nothing bad,” You assure as the alcohol coursing through you sends another wave of exhaustion, causing you to yawn dramatically. “I’m just really tired and the bar is super loud and I wanna be in your arms right now.”  

You can hear the smile in his tone as he asks, “Is that right?” 

“Mhm!”

“How much did you drink, pretty girl?”

“Hmm. Definitely six drinks,” you think for a second, “or maybe it was seven?”

“So enough to make you a little sleepy?” 

“Ultra sleepy.” Dick has learned from past scenarios of you falling asleep in unconventional spaces that alcohol makes you very tired. 

“How about I come pick you up, baby?” 

“Yes, please.” You fiddle with the strap on your purse as you look around the cramped stall. “Would it be okay if you came inside and told my friends you were taking me home?” 

“You want me to be the bad guy, huh?”

“No! I just don’t want them to think I'm abandoning girls night out to go sleep with my boyfriend.” 

“Baby, they won't think that. They love you and also know you're a sleepy drunk.”

“Please?” 

He sighs but relents, “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thank you, Dickie! I love you and drive safely.” You end the call with an overdramatic kiss through the phone. The moment you leave the stall, it's filled by another girl who has been waiting in the now five person long line. 

Pushing back through the bodies of people to make it back to your friends, you fill your spot and reenter the conversation, just biding your time till Dick gets here and you can be cuddled in bed. 

You grab your phone, going to check the time again, but don’t have the chance to even turn it on before a familiar voice cuts through the chatter of the bar. 

“Hi, baby.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your slightly tangled hair, before looking at your friends, “Ladies. I think I’m gonna be taking sleeping beauty off your hands for the night.” 

A chorus of boos follow his statement, but nobody truly declines because they all see the sleep tugging at your eyes. Dick takes your purse from you as you say your goodbyes to each of your friends, and when you’re done you stand, holding onto Dicks arm, as he guides you out of the bar and back into the stifling humidity of Bludhaven. 

“I had to park a few streets down.” He looks down at your choice of shoes for the night. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk the whole way or do you want me to carry you?”

You don't even think about your answer. “Carry, please,” you say with a soft smile tugging at your lips. 

He bends down for you to hop onto his back—which you unceremoniously do—and wordlessly starts walking you both to his car. You keep your head leaning against his shoulder and even as he jostles you around with each step he takes, you feel yourself falling further into unconsciousness. “Hey, don't fall asleep on me yet, sleepy girl.”

“M’not.” Lie.

You pinch yourself to stay awake the rest of the walk, and when you're finally at his car, he helps you into the passenger seat. He makes sure you're secure before jogging around the front of the car and hopping into the driver side.

“Thank you for picking me up, baby.”

“You’re welcome.” Your eyes grow heavy as you settle into the leather of his seat. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I love y—” You fall asleep before you ever get to hear his response.  

jason todd

You weren’t even in the bathroom for ten minutes, but when you came back to the spot your friends said they’d stay, they were gone. Not just gone from the spot, but after doing a search of the whole bar and even giving the bartender the name they were using for their tab—which he told you closed about five minutes ago—you’d come to the conclusion you have been left at the bar. 

Whether it was drunken negligence or a purposeful abandonment, you weren’t sure considering the amount of alcohol each of you has consumed tonight. You don't even bother to text them and instead try to order an uber, but apparently it's a busy night in Gotham since no rides are available. You instead make your way out to hail a taxi. The cool air is a nice reprieve from the body heat of the bar and you soak it in while trying not to look completely vulnerable as you stumble to the end of the sidewalk waiting for a familiar yellow car to drive by. 

You stood there for ten minutes, but not a single taxi ever passed you. Your anxiety about standing there drunk and alone grows, and you decide you can’t wait for the luck of a taxi passing by anymore.

You grab your phone and pull up Jason's contact, thumb hovering over the call button. You know he's on patrol right now and you really don't want to distract him, but this feels like an emergency, and he does always tell you he’ll answer your calls no matter how busy he is. 

You give in, pressing the call button and bringing the phone to your ear as you let gravity take over and pull you to sit on the curb. You make it to the third ring before his voice takes over. 

“What’s up, honey?

You aren’t sure if it’s the comfort his voice brings you or the alcohol coursing through your system, but hot tears start cascading down your cheeks as a broken sob falls from your lips.

“Woah, fuck, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” 

“They left me and apparently Gotham is shortstaffed on drivers and I’m too scared to walk home like this,” you say through a broken cry. 

There’s a strain in his voice as he asks, “Where are you right now?”

“The bar,” you sniffle loudly trying to pull yourself together, “The one near the sandwich place we like.”

“I’ll be there in five.” He hangs up before you even get to say goodbye and you’re left sorting through the rocks on the sidewalk while you wait for him. 

True to his word, his bike comes to a stop right in front of you, exactly five minutes later. He’s quick to park it in a completely illegal spot before sliding off and making his way toward you. You keep your head down as he crouches in front of you, rests his helmet next to you, as takes in your now ruined makeup.

“What happened, baby?” His voice is soft as he gently lifts his hand to cradle your jaw and tilt your head so you’re looking back at him..

“I went to the bathroom, but when I came back all my friends were gone,” His eyes narrow at that, but he doesn't interrupt you from telling him the rest. “The bartender told me they closed their tab and I checked the whole bar for them. Gone. I tried to get an Uber or a taxi, but there's nothing available over here.”

He carefully wipes the tears and smeared mascara lining your cheeks. “I never liked those girls anyways.”

“You didn’t?”

“They didn’t appreciate you and you deserve friends who cherish you for the remarkable person you are.” You don’t say anything, but instead, lean forward so your forehead is pressed against his chest. 

“You wanna get home?”

You nod.

He pressed a kiss to your hair before pulling you off of him. “Gotta get the helmet on you.” He grabs his helmet—since he didn’t have time to stop and grab the one he bought you a while back—and meticulously slides it onto your head, being careful not to snag on your hair or ears. Once it's fully on he takes off his leather jacket and helps you into that as well. It's the most protection he can offer you, since your club outfit is the exact opposite of what he lets you wear on his bike. 

“M’tired,” your voice comes out muffled through the helmet, but he still understands what you said. 

“I know, sweet girl. Let's get you home and into bed.” 

He guides you over to his bike, not letting you drunkenly stumble over something, and helps you onto the bike before taking his seat. He doesn’t drive fast, knowing you’d likely throw up from the motion right now, and instead stays in one lane while driving slightly under the speed limit. 

Fifteen minutes later, the bike is parked and he’s opening the door to your shared apartment and guiding you to the bedroom. You fall backward on the bed, uncaring of anything else at the moment, but quickly get pulled back upward, much to your dismay. 

“Gotta get you out of your clothes and into pajamas.” Jason kneels before you, trusting you to sit up right as he makes quick work of the shoes you wore. He does the same with the clothes you were wearing, while you lay there being of little help to him, before finding one of his shirts that he slides over you so you’re comfortable. 

He walks to the bathroom, and you lay back down onto the bed ignoring the sounds of drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The bed dips under Jason's weight as he sits back down and whispers, “You can go to bed, baby. I’m just gonna take off your makeup.” 

You nod, already feeling yourself falling into unconsciousness. You faintly feel the press of a kiss to your nose before you fall asleep on your way to a hangover the next morning.

tim drake

Maybe you shouldn’t have ordered another shot, but it was your friend's 21st birthday, what else were you supposed to do? You all had been at the club for the past two hours, and to say you  all were drunk would be putting it politely. 

You all were standing at the bar waiting for what you claimed to be the last drink of the night, but that statement had been thrown around multiple times all night and you’re still ordering. You’re each presented with a shot in front of you and before you all down them, you lift the glass into the air. “To turning twenty one!” 

The cheer is echoed amongst your friends before hitting the table with the glass and downing the contents. It goes down with a familiar burn that makes your spine shiver slightly. Your friend points out an open high top table, and you all start making your way through the throngs of people to get there. 

The world is spinning only slightly, but enough to cause you to stumble on nothing, and trip onto the stranger in front of you. Like a domino effect, you fall onto the ground causing them to stumble backward and lose grip of their drink where it falls all over you. You stand up from the floor feeling the sticky residue—of what you pray is just spilled alcohol—on your hands from where you caught yourself, while the spilled drink runs down your back and clings to the ends of your hair. 

You blurt out an apology to the person you bumped into, not waiting for a response, you book it to the bathroom to wash your hands. The bathroom is cramped as you step inside but you pay no mind to anyone else, just turning on the water and pumping as much soap as you can onto your hands. You wash your hands for two minutes before you feel satisfied that you got the germs from the floor off, and as you dry your hands, your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. 

You assume it's one of your friends asking where you disappeared off to, so without checking the name you answer and put your phone to your ear. 

“I think you should be done drinking for the night.” 

Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend's voice and not your friends. “Timmy!” There's an evident slur in your words, “What are you talking about?” 

“I saw you fall.” 

Your brows furrow. “How would you have seen that?” 

“The cameras,” he says, like it was obvious. 

“You hacked the cameras?” You say it a little louder than intended, catching a couple odd looks from the other people in the restroom. You slip out of the bathroom, but stay in the quieter hallway to avoid more odd glances.

“Well, yeah. You were going out and you know your safety is my number one priority, so I was simply ensuring that you were safe.” 

“So what? You’ve just had the security feed up on another monitor while you’ve been working?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re such a stalker, Tim,” you say but there's a smile on your face from knowing that he’s always looking out for you even when not together. 

“You told me you were okay with it when I brought it up a few months ago,” he sounds slightly anxious now, worried he's crossed a boundary, “Are you not okay with it anymore?”

“No, no Tim, it's okay.” You let out a small breath as you sit on the small bench in the hall, “If anything you’re right. I'm covered in alcohol now and I’m too drunk to walk at this point.” 

“I can come pick you up.”

“You’re busy, I can just call an Uber.”

“I can take a break,” he says quickly. “Please, let me come make sure you get home safely, love.” 

“If this is all it takes for you to willingly take a break, then I should do this more often.” 

You can almost hear his eyeroll through the phone. “I’ll be there soon, just be careful when leaving the hall and going back to your friends.”

You look around before your gaze focuses on camera in the corner. “Are you still watching me?” 

“Mhm.”

You blow him a kiss through the camera as you say goodbye and hangup. You carefully bring yourself back up to walk through the crowds back toward your friends. You explain to them what had happened, only twisting the story slightly to make it seem like you called Tim instead and he wasn’t watching you all night through the security feed. 

About ten minutes later, you get a text from Tim saying he's outside. You say your goodbyes and stumble out, finding his car parked right in front of the bar, with him standing at the entrance to help you. 

“Timmy!” You throw your arms around him, relying on him to catch you before you send both of you tumbling—which he does. 

“Hi, love.” He smiles down at you, “Are you ready to go home?” 

You nod dramatically and let him help you into the passenger seat and buckle you in before rounding the car and driving you back to the apartment. Once you pull into the apartment, you're bounding out of the car ready to get rid of the alcohol smell that is clinging to your hair and clothes. 

Tim catches up quickly, opening the door for you, and following you to the bathroom. “Do you need help getting a bath?” 

You look over at him and fall back into his arms. “My boyfriend, always looking out for me and making sure I’m safe.” 

He laughs, but keeps his arms around your waist and lets his head drop to bury into the crook of your neck. “Always. There's nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

You pull back just enough to plant kisses that cover his face in your lip combo. “I love you,” you say after placing the final kiss on his lips. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes watching your every move. “I love you too,” he whispers, “But you smell really bad. So bath first and then we can cuddle, okay?” 

That's all the motivation you need to start shedding your clothes while he turns on the water, adjusting it so it's not too hot or cold for you.

authors note: i tried to include different like types of drunk and i hope i did okay!! i also had an idea about basing a fic on every song of "you seem so sad for a girl so in love" so let me know what y'all think about that idea!!

[ems-typewriter]

Mirror, Mirror

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: reader is getting ready to go out and peter sits with her while she does her makeup

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, no y/n, use of pet names

The squeak of the old window closing in the living room sounds over the get ready playlist you turned on just minutes ago. You, however, don’t break your attention from your own reflection as you use the fluffy headband to keep your hair from getting into your face when you start your makeup. 

“Baby?” Peter's voice fills the small apartment, “I’m back from patrol.” 

“In the bedroom!” 

His approaching footsteps grow louder as he pushes open the door. There stands your friendly neighborhood Spiderman, still suited up from patrol; however his mask is clutched in his hand, revealing his unruly brown curls. The slight bow in his shoulders and droop of his eyelids reveal just how grueling patrol was for him, but still his eyes soften as they land on you sitting at the vanity. 

He shuffles over to the chair, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into the crook of your neck. “Missed you,” He mumbles as he sinks into your touch.

You turn your head slightly to plant a soft kiss against his slightly sweaty hairline, “I missed you too, Peter.” You lift your hand to scratch his scalp softly and you swear he's about to start purring against your skin.  

He lifts his head from you and surveys the variety of makeup items lying about the vanity. “Where are you going?”

“I have a girls night tonight, remember? We’re gonna go to the bar that's across the coffee shop you like.” 

Recognition flashes in his eyes as you mention this to him again, “No—yeah I remember you telling me about that. I forgot, I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you smile at him through the mirror. “Was the night bad tonight?” 

“Very,” he says as he starts peeling the red and blue suit off and replacing it with a pair of sweatpants and an old shirt with a chemistry joke printed on the front of it. “But it's better now I’m here with you.” 

You smile at him over your shoulder as you start applying primer to your skin.

“Can I sit with you while you get ready?” 

“Of course, Pete. You don't gonna ask.”

He grabs the small ottoman you keep in the corner of the bedroom and uses that to sit next to you. Neither of you say much due to Peter’s exhaustion and your concentration, and instead let the music fill the silence between you both. 

As you reach for your blush—the one makeup item you really spurge on because the formula is incomparable—you accidentally knock it over, sending it tumbling to its end. You close your eyes just waiting to hear the sound of the packaging shattering on the floor, but it never comes. You dare to peak an eye open and see the product safely cocooned in Peter's hand. 

“Peter! You saved my blush!” You beam at him as he carefully places it back onto the desk, this time closer to the middle just in case. You lean over your seat to pepper kisses across his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you baby.”  

He laughs and as you pull away, you notice the obvious pink tint now staining his cheeks. “It was nothing,” he says as he awkwardly pulls on the end of his shirt. “If I couldn’t save your makeup, then I don’t think I’d be qualified to save people.” 

“That Peter tingle of yours is no joke,” you proclaim before giving him one more kiss, this time to his lips. It doesn’t take him long to register the kiss and reciprocate it back, bringing his hand up to rest against the side of your neck and pull you slightly closer. You gently smile into the kiss, before reluctantly pulling from him, but he chases your lips, wanting more. “I have to finish getting ready, Pete.”

He sighs dramatically, leaning back, “Fine.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you double the kisses when I get back.” 

“Triple.”

You laugh but nod, “Triple the kisses it is then.” 

You start adding the finishing touches to the makeup, completing the look to match your outfit. You set the last product down and stand up from the chair to do a couple of turns for Peter now that you're fully dressed with the makeup down. “What do you think?”

“You look… stunning.” He whispers as his eyes scan every detail you put into your outfit tonight. He stands from the ottoman, intertwines your fingers, then pulls you gently so you’re standing in front of him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m grateful.”

You smile up at him and tenderly squeeze his hand three times. He’s looking down at you with such devoted love that you can’t stop the heat spreading across your face. “Probably all that good karma that comes from being a hero.” 

He laughs quietly, pressing a feather light kiss to your lips, not wanting to ruin the makeup you spent so long working on. Your phone pinging multiple times pulls your attention away from him and you read the text from your friend telling you the uber you're all sharing is out front. 

“Okay, I gotta go.”

“You’ll call me if you need anything, right?” 

“Always.” You press one last lingering kiss to his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Be safe.”

authors note: i haven't posted in like a week im sorryyyy. its been hard to figure out what to write about BUT finally wrote for my og. i dont know why it took so long for me to write for him, but i finally did it

[ems-typewriter]

Dreams of You

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: jason has a nightmare and reader goes to help comfort him

word count: 1.3k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, cursing, mention of death and injury, description of reader getting hurt from the joker in the dream, angst, comfort, no y/n, use of pet names

Your mouth feels dry where it rests against the pillow, while a shiver runs down your spine at the cold that now runs through your bones. You turn around, throwing your arm out to pull Jason closer, but you're met with empty sheets that hold a lingering body heat. Blinking harshly to adjust to the darkness of the room, Jason is nowhere to be found. 

The faint sound of the living room window snapping shut catches your attention. You reach aimlessly toward the nightstand, sending something crashing to the ground in the process, before you grab your phone and turn it on. You're forced to squint against the blinding light of the screen to make out the time on the background: 04:17. You brows furrow slightly and you try to recall Jason having patrol this morning, but nothing comes to mind. The only thing you can think is that it would be an emergency, but even then, he’d leave a post it note on top of your phone so you know where he is. 

There’s a sinking anxiety in your gut that makes you carelessly toss the comforter aside, slip on Jason’s worn-in hoodie that engulfs you in fabric, before padding out of the bedroom. As the window leading to the fire escape comes into sight, you see all 220 pounds of muscle hunched over on the escape looking over the still bustling city with an unlit cigarette in his hand. 

In the hopes of not startling him, you make sure when you slide the window open it makes that familiar squeak to alert him. His shoulders tense up at the sound, but when he glances over and sees you slipping through the window to join him, they ease back down. You take the spot next to him sitting criss-cross to take up as little space as possible. 

You’ve learned the quickest way for Jason to shut down is to push him to talk, so you patiently wait for him to say something—if he says anything at all—first. You look up at the sky in hope to see the brightest of stars shining down on you, but the light emanating from Gotham drowns them all out.

“I thought I lost you.” 

Your attention shifts from the night sky to narrow in on Jason. Tilting your head in obvious confusion as you ask, “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

“It’s stupid but I—I had a nightmare.” He mumbles it so quietly like he’s ashamed of the fact that something he deems so childish could have him so shaken up. 

It’s now that you notice the mild tremor of the unlit cigarette still held between his middle and pointer. You reach over, removing the cigarette from his grasp, and softly intertwining your fingers against his calloused grip. His hand still shakes, but less so now that you’ve extended a silent lifeline. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He waits so long to respond, that you think he chose to ignore your question, before finally, “Everything that happened to me… it happened to you instead.”

The sinking you felt earlier is nothing compared to the anchor of emotions that now weighs you down at the thought of him being stuck in inner turmoil. You don't say anything, just squeeze his hand in support for him to continue if he wants. 

“The Joker got to you instead of me. I was forced to see you get beat and tortured to death, when it was supposed to be me. I was stuck watching him give you all of the scars that weigh me down—the J he carved into my cheek, was engraved on yours.” He takes a shaky breath. “All that pain happened to you and I couldn’t make it stop. I can’t stop hearing your screams and pleading.

“Then the dream shifted from that fucking warehouse to your grave. Nobody was doing anything, they all just stood there, but I figured because I came back then so would you, so I dug. I thought—hoped you’d still be alive, so I clawed through the dirt till my fingers were bleeding but there wasn't even a casket. You were just… gone.”

That's when he finally glances over at you for the first time, and the lights from the city dimly reflect the two tears that have run past his cheeks, gathering at his jaw. You carefully uncross your legs, and swing one over so you're straddling his lap. His hands automatically come to rest on your hips, his grip tighter than normal, like he’s making sure this is real and he's not still stuck in the dream.

You lift your hands to wipe the tears from his face, but as another one makes a new path in its place, you quickly wipe that one away too. You gently take one of his hands away from your waist to place it against the steady beat of your heart. “I’m right here, baby. My heart is beating and nothing happened to me.”

“But the feelings are lingering. I still feel the fear and helplessness I did in the dream when I couldn’t save you.” His voice breaks slightly and his forehead drops to your chest. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Jay, honey, it's okay. It wasn’t real. None of it was real, okay? I'm here in your arms, safe.” You run your fingers through his hair, gently trying to coax him to lift his head again. 

“You’re never gonna be safe with me, though.” 

“That’s not true.” You lift his head up, and he looks more like a sad puppy than the intimidating Red Hood that makes grown men cry. “I’m safer with you than I could ever have been. I mean you literally had Tim install tracking on every device I own, and on my purses. It took a lot of pride for you to ask Tim for a favor, but you did for my safety. I text Duke close to everyday and get coffee with Cass every Thursday. Damian randomly shows up to our apartment when the manor becomes too much and Dick invites us over for dinner twice a week. And like it or not, Bruce is the Batman. You can’t get much safer than literally being surrounded by vigilantes on a daily basis.” 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you, so you continue talking. “I get nightmares too sometimes. Ones of you dying on patrols, Dick knocking on the door saying that you won’t come back this time, and having to live without you. I get those too, but then I look over and you're fast asleep drooling on the pillow.” You add the last part in with a soft smirk on your lips. 

“I don’t drool.” He says rolling his eyes, but you already heard the slight huff of laughter that came from him. 

“Debateable.” 

His gaze turns solemn again. “I just—I can’t live without you. I can’t.” 

“And you won’t,” you whisper against his skin before pressing a kiss to his temple. “Because most of all, I’m surrounded by you, Jason Todd. You’ve always shown up every time I’ve needed you and I know that no matter what, I have nothing to worry about, because you’ll show up. I’m not going through this life without you either.”

His hand gently cups the back of your neck and brings you to rest your forehead against his. “Can we stay like this for a while longer? I need to know this is real.” 

You nod, pressing a barely there kiss to his scarred cheek. “We can stay out here as long as you want, Jay. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He pulls you impossibly closer to him, and you bury your face in his neck, trying to steal as much of his warmth as you can. You feel your eyes getting heavy from waking up at such an odd time in the morning, but just as you’re about to fall into sleep again, you faintly hear, “I love you,” followed by a kiss to your forehead.

authors note: im backkkkkkkk!!! technically my classes dont end till tomorrow, but ive been writing down so many ideas during this break and i wanted to start writing this one because it kept coming to mind!!

[ems-typewriter]

On Your Period

includes: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake

summary: you're on your period and they help you through it

word count: dick - 0.9k, jason - 0.8k, tim - 0.8k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, comfort, use of pet names, no y/n, mention of stalker tim

dick grayson

The day hadn't started out badly. You woke up to the smell of pancake batter cooking in the apartment, pulling you out of bed towards the small kitchen where Dick stood watching over the stove. He had made you an array of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, leaving you to think it was the start to a wonderful day. How wrong you were. 

When you arrived at the local Blüdhaven coffee shop you worked at, you were met with a line out the door, because unbeknownst to you, your boss had advertised a sale for students if they showed their university card. There was no rush hour today—the entire day was the rush. Throughout the chaos, you managed to have hot coffee spilt all over you, the whipped cream can explode everywhere, having to push through the cramps that made you want to curl into a ball, and the one bathroom break you could manage, you realized you bled through your pants. 

It was safe to say that now the shop was closed, you were ready to drive home and fall asleep in Dick’s arms after the absolute hell of a day you had. You clock out and walk out the door of the shop, locking it behind you, then toward your car. Your bag gets carelessly thrown somewhere in the back, but as you put the keys in the ignition and turn, your car makes a sad starting sound before giving up. 

“No.” You try again, but this time, your engine doesn’t even rumble. “No, no, no.” Your head falls against the steering wheel as you hold back the flood of tears that threatens to fall. You take a couple of deep breaths before grabbing your phone, which had died an hour before closing, and get out of the car to walk home. 

Every step you take feels like you're walking through quicksand. You’re definitely not being vigilant enough to be walking alone in Blüdhaven at night, but you were left with no other choice, so you keep one hand on your pepper spray as a safety precaution. You make it about a block before a shadow follows behind you, but you're too tired to even notice it, until you feel a gloved hand grabbing yours to spin you around.

“What’re you doing walking home alone?”

You glance up, coming face to face with those familiar ocean blue eyes staring down at you behind the domino mask with concern. “I had the worst day,” you mumble, not even trying to cover the bone deep exhaustion in your tone.

His gaze softens slightly, but the tension in his shoulders is still evident. “You know it’s not safe to walk home alone. Where’s your car?.” 

“It wouldn’t start.” 

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“My phone’s dead.”

“Oh.” 

You gesture to the jacket you had tied around your waist, “I also bled through my pants,” then lift your arm to show where the skin is still red and painful to the touch, “And got hot coffee spilt on me.” 

His gaze follows your every motion, his eyes narrowing when he sees the angry spot on your arm where the coffee burned you enough to still have lingering pain. “Let's get you home, okay baby?” 

“What about being Nightwing?”

“The city can wait, you’re more important to me.”

His hand runs along the small of your back as he gestures you forward in the direction of the apartment. Neither of you talk, only the faint sounds of sirens and cars driving break up the silence as Nightwing personally sees you home safely. 

It's about 15 minutes until you're unlocking the door and slipping inside the cozy apartment. Haley greets both you and Dick at the door, circling your feet in excitement, waiting for you to pet her. Kneeling down, you scratch the spot she loves behind her ear as Dick walks out of the hallway and into the bedroom. You hear drawers being opened and shut followed by the sound of water filling in the tub. 

Giving Haley one last kiss to her head, you stand, following the noise coming from the bathroom, just to see him knelt before the bathtub checking the temperature of the water. “What’re you doing?”

“Getting you a bath ready.” He’s still in the identifiable black and blue suit, sweat dried to his skin making his skin shinier than usual. Glancing at the counter you notice the sweatpants and hoodie that lay there perfectly folded, waiting for you to put on after the bath. 

“You didn’t need to do this for me,” you whisper, feeling a deep bubble of guilt crawling up your throat. His job involves him getting punched, shot, stabbed, and a hell of a lot more than what you experienced today, and yet, he’s the one filling the bathtub for you. 

Hearing the shift in your tone, he turns his head to face you, then slides the mask off his face so you can see the earnest look in his gaze, “Love, you had a bad day, please let me take care of you.” He turns the faucet to the tub off, then walks till he is standing before you. 

“You probably had a bad day too.” 

He trails his hands up your waist, stopping when they rest on your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers, “Don’t worry about me. I’m here to make your day better, okay?” 

You barely nod, but his gaze caught the movement. You look back at the tub, then back up at him. “Can you stay?”

His dimple pops as he smiles at you, as he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “Anything you want.” 

jason todd

You're laying on your couch, arm tossed over your forehead trying to deal with the headache your period has brought on while also trying to ignore the cramps attacking your stomach. Your phone rests on the floor as you debate calling Jason. You know he’s busy with his double life right now, and you don’t want to bother him, but you also feel so sick that you don’t think you can make it to the medicine cabinet for pain killers. 

You come to the conclusion you can’t deal with this anymore when you feel a tear fall from the corner of your eye and into your hair. You reach for your phone, pressing the favorited contact, and wait not so patiently for his rough voice to fill the speakers. It takes a few rings but he finally answers. 

“Hey baby, I’m kinda busy right now.” You hear him breathing heavily into the microphone and assume he answered through his helmet comms that he linked for your contact. 

“Jay,” you sniffle quietly, “Everything hurts, I can't get to the medicine, the lights are so bright and—” 

“Woah, okay, what happened?”

The sounds of yelling and punches hitting their mark fill the silence between the gaps of talking. “I started my period and everything hurts, Jay. I'm sorry to bother you.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Another punch. “I’ll be there in ten.” 

Your voice is hesitant, “Are you sure?”

“Ten minutes,” he repeats more roughly this time, knowing you can doubt yourself when you're on your period and wanting to shut that down immediately. 

“Yeah okay, ten minutes. Just be safe, please.”

“Always am.” If you had felt better, you would laugh at the sheer lie that is, but your headache sends a shooting pain through you, so instead you let Jason hang up the phone.

True to his word, you hear his three knocks at the door ten minutes later before he lets himself in with the key you gave him. His gaze falls onto you, looking like death reincarnate laying on the couch, and drops all his gear on the floor as you watch the tension leave his body as he switches from Redhood to your Jason.

He walked toward the kitchen to grab the pain medication from the cabinet, then knelt on the floor next to the couch helping you sit up to take the pills. His right arm is wrapped around your waist holding you up, while his left arm draws mindless patterns on the thigh of your sweatpants in hopes of distracting you from the pain. 

“Come on, baby. I know it hurts but you gotta sit up to take the meds.”

Your head drops to his shoulder as he grabs your water bottle and holds the straw in front of you. Taking a drink of water, then the recognizable pills, you finally got down what is your last hope at making it through the rest of the night without pain. 

Jason gently pries your head off his shoulder to analyze you with his trained eyes, “Now, what all is hurting?”

“Mainly my head and my cramps, but my body also just aches.” Your voice feels harsh even in your own body right now. His calloused hand that now rests against your face, while his thumb makes a slow sweeping motion across your cheek is the only thing keeping your grounded right now. 

He nods along as you reply, “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”

“Knew you were busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you. Have I not made myself clear enough about that in the past?” His voice has a lilting sense of anxiety to it, like he's worried you don't understand that he would drop anything for you, even if it caused bigger problems for him.

“No, you have I just—”

“Just nothing. You call me when you feel like shit, okay?” 

You nod slowly, still clutching your stomach as the pain medication works its way down to the problem.  

“Words, baby.”

“I’ll call you next time.” 

“Good,” He leans in and places a gentle kiss against your brow, “Now, let’s watch a cheesy romcom while the medicine does its job.” 

You nod, “That sounds really lovely right now.” 

Jason turns the TV onto the shitty romcom that he knows you love, and even though he finds the whole plot cheesy and overrated, he’d watch it a million times over just to see the smile it brings to your face—especially when the tear tracks of pain still linger on your cheeks. He carefully lays you back down on the couch, making sure you're comfortable, before moving to rest behind you. His arm wraps around your waist, a comforting warmth that works against knots in your lower stomach, and you hear the quiet whisper against your ear, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jay.”

tim drake

Your eyelids feel heavy as you keep re-reading the same sentence of your book over and over again, each time the words becoming more jumbled together. You sigh, losing all interest in reading the novel right now, bookmark the page and toss it onto the opposite end of the bed. You would text Tim to come over to take a nap with you, but he texted you this morning saying he was going to be busy with Bruce doing “bat stuff.” Whatever that meant. 

You lean back against the pillow that molds to your body, as you debate what you should do. You probably shouldn’t take a nap considering Tim gets onto you about how you always stay up late and then complain about being tired the next morning, only for the cycle to continue, but you already feel yourself falling deeper into the mattress into sleep. 

You faintly register the weight running across your face, causing your nose to scrunch slightly and lift your hand enough to gently push it away to leave you to rest. It comes back again, this time a gentle feeling scratching at your scalp and followed by a quiet whisper.

“Honey.”

“Mmm.”

You roll over, lifting the cover enough to slip it over your head so you can go back to sleep, but this time you feel an unmistakable weight land on top of you.

“Time to get up.”

“Timmm, let me sleep,” You grumble into the pillow beneath you.

“No, you finally got onto a good sleep schedule. I don't want you to ruin that.”

“You have no room to talk, Mr. All Nighters.” 

He laughs quietly and pulls the comforter off your face, leaving you face to face with your boyfriend hovering over you. His hair has fallen slightly over his forehead, permanent bags linger under his eyes, and he's wearing the old Gotham University hoodie that you wear more than him. 

“My work requires all nighters, yours requires early mornings.” 

“Yeah, whatever you say, Red Robin,” you say through a yawn. Lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and pull him down to press a kiss to his jaw, you whisper against his skin, “Missed you.”

“I missed you too.” He pulls back to hover over you again while his blue eyes scan your face with that analytical gaze of his. It's the same one he uses when going over his code, looking for any flaws in his work. “How’re you feeling?”

Your brows pull together in confusion. “Uh… I guess my stomach aches a little. Is something supposed to be wrong with me?” 

“Your period.” 

You shake your head no. “I’m not on my period.”

“You start today.” 

You slide out from under him to rest against the headboard of the bed, while he follows to sit in front of you. You’re reaching for your phone to pull up your tracking app because you could’ve sworn you wouldn’t start for another couple of days. “How do you know when I’m supposed to start my period?”

His cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as he tugs slightly at the strand of hair on the nape of his neck as he admits, “I track it.”

You slowly lift your gaze from your phone to meet his gaze, “You track my period?” 

He nods sheepishly. 

“I don't even know why I’m surprised, that's mild compared to some of the things you’ve stalked me on.” 

“I do not stalk you… I just always want to make sure you’re okay.”

You smile at him. “And I love you for it, baby.” 

You bring your attention back down to your phone, and sure enough, your tracker has a big predicted today staring back at you. “Okay, you were right, but I haven't started yet, so I might be late.” 

“Oh, well I brought you some stuff anyway,” he says as he grabs a grocery store bag you now realize was there the entire time. He starts going through each item in the bag and explaining the reasoning behind each item he bought and the research that shows how it helps with period symptoms. He even bought you a new heating pad after you were complaining about yours being broken last month. 

You didn’t even realize tears were in your eyes, likely due to the hormones coursing through your body, until they fell down your cheeks and Tim was pulling you against his chest. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

Your sob is slightly muffled against his hoodie, “This is just so sweet, Timmy.” 

“You liked it that much?”

“I love it.”

He pulls you back enough so he can cup your face, his thumbs gently brushing away the hot tears collecting on your cheeks. “How about we open this candy and watch our show?” 

You just nod in agreement and watch as he sets everything up around you both. He opens the three different candies—one sour, one chocolate, and one fruity—because he was unsure which you'd want. Then he turns on the TV to the show you’d been watching together and bundles under the covers with you, keeping you tucked against his chest. Much to your dismay, when you went to the bathroom an hour later, you did in fact start your period.

authors note: took me forever to write this because my summer classes are taking so much out of me, but I finally got it finisheddddd!! also olivias new album is so insanely beautiful and such a work of art (if you haven't listened to it yet, please go do and let me know)

[ems-typewriter]

Watching Love Island With Them

includes: dick grayson, jason todd

summary: you're able to get your boyfriend to watch the new season of your favorite reality tv show with you

word count: dick- 0.8k, jason- 0.7k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, cursing, established relationship, love island s8 spoilers, use of pet names, fluff, no y/n

dick grayson

For the past week, you had been talking Dick’s ear off about the new season of your favorite reality TV show, Love Island, coming back for the summer. It’s the show where almost every night for the next six weeks, you get to sit down and relax while watching drama unfold on your TV and even getting a say in some of the actions that happen. Dick had taken it upon himself to make this a cozy night in for the both of you while you watch episode one. 

When he came through the door, the nightwing suit peeking through his jacket he puts on when coming home to mask his identity, he's holding two bags of take out from the chinese restaurant down the street and another bag filled with candy from the convenience store, only fifteen minutes before the episode airs. He had rushed for the shower to wipe the smell off the smell of sweat mixed with Blüdhaven.

You already had the television set up and sorted through the takeout boxes to find your usual meal waiting for you at the bottom. When Dick comes out of the bathroom wearing just a pair of sweatpants, he’s also holding the face masks that you’d bought specifically for the both of you to use tonight. 

He sits down on the couch, pulling you into his lap, before carefully helping you put the hydrating mask on. When you put his mask on, which you bought specifically because it had a tiger printed onto the sheet mask, you can’t hold back the laugh at the design. 

“Don’t I look handsome?” He gives you his signature smile that brings out the dimple in his left cheek.

You just nod while you keep laughing, “Yeah, baby.”

Once you both settle down, he pulls you against him while you eat the food, being mindful of not getting it into the chemicals of the masks, and press play for the episode. You both try so hard not to cringe during the intro, but it's so bad Dick finally comments on it. 

“Is this normal?”

“Yeah kinda. They did it first during season six, and when that blew up, they kept doing it thinking it would always be iconic, but it just never compared.” 

“Yeah, this is just awkward to watch.” 

“This is just the beginning.” 

As the show progresses and the islanders start introducing themselves to both the viewer and other islanders, you and Dick start making comments and predictions about every contestant being introduced.

“How do they get six weeks of time off to come to a dating show?”

“I don't know. I’ve honestly never understood that part. I mean, Trinity even quit her job to come here, that's dedication.”

“That dude looks like Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”

“Yeah, just a less hot version of him,” you mumble while taking a bite.

You keep making these comments with Dick for the rest of the night, when you finally get far enough into the episode where the islanders are picking their couples for the first night. You both make your guesses, which you end up getting more correct, but neither of us expected KC to have an empty door on the other side. 

“Oh, that's so awkward.”

You nod in agreement, "I'd die of embarrassment right then and there.”

The episode finally comes to an end with a teaser of the episode airing tomorrow night. 

“I don't know why Kenzie is so upset over him. He stated he wasn't really into her,” you say as you turn off the TV for the night. 

“Yeah, it's been less than 24 hours and the whole point of the show is to explore your options right?”

You nod.

“Exactly. She can find someone who actually likes her and chooses her, so she shouldn’t cry over him when she can have better.” 

“Yes exactly!” 

The next day while you're at work, Dick keeps sending you TikToks about people talking about their opinions on the episode or of clips already being made into memes. He also calls you on your ten minute break to make you promise not to start the next episode without him since he doesn’t get off patrol till an hour after it airs.. 

You didn’t think Dick to get so invested into the show that he wants to actually sit down and watch it with you, but you should’ve expected it–he does love his drama that doesn't affect him.

When Dick comes home that night from patrol, he gets one of the fastest showers you’ve seen him take after patrol, grabs the leftover candy from yesterday and comes to your side on the couch, pulling you against his chest and starting the episode. You start to wonder if introducing him to the show wasn’t one of your best ideas.

jason todd

You were sat down on the couch of Jason's apartment–which you unofficially live at–halfway through the first episode of Love Island's new season. The lamp in the small living room was flicked on to illuminate the walls in a soft light as you're curled up against the blankets wearing the hoodie that smells like Jason. 

He wasn’t supposed to be back from patrol until late tonight, so you had decided to make yourself some food and watch the episode. You’ve already formed your own opinions about who you think is on the show for the right reasons or who might just be here for the fame, while they introduced themselves and then interacted with the other islanders. 

You just got to the scene where the islanders are standing in front of the door making their choices of the questions asked, and then make out with the people on the other side, when you hear your favorite sound of the lock turning for the front door. Jason walks inside, dirtied boots leaving a slight trail of dirt in their path, with his helmet tossed onto the floor without care. You can immediately tell by his posture it was a rough night in the city of Gotham.

You grab the remote and pause the show, “Bad night?” 

“Isn’t it always a bad night in Gotham?” He let out a humorless laugh.

You push the blanket off of you and walk toward him, not caring that he probably stinks of sweat and is covered in blood, you pull him into a hug. “I’m sorry, Jay,” you whisper as you feel all the tension as his shoulders slowly leave his body as he pulls you close against him.

“It’s okay. I just wanted to come back to you all night.” 

You smile against his bicep at the crushing vulnerability of his words. “How about this? You go get a shower while I heat up the dinner I made earlier for you and we can watch TV and cuddle?”

He just nods against the crook of your neck, lingering for a couple more seconds before peeling off of you to get the stench of his double life off of his skin. 

You grab the dinner you made earlier today and reheat the food for Jason so when he comes out of the bathroom, he doesn’t have to worry about anything for the rest of the night. It doesn't take long before he’s walking out of the bathroom with damp hair and tugging the loose t-shirt over his chest. 

His plate is waiting for him on the coffee table with a slight steam coming off of it. You’d made sure to get him the biggest portion the plate could fit, knowing how hungry he gets after a long patrol. 

He takes the spot on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him, then grabs the plate to rest in his lap. “What’re we watching?”

“You remember the reality show I was talking about the other day? The one where they go to Fiji and couple up with others, do challenges, and even get voted off?”

He nods as he takes a bite of the food. 

“It's that show. Tonight was the first episode, and I’m about halfway through it.” You unpause the show, and right as you do a couple had started to make out very aggressively on the screen.

“They’re just… making out?” You can hear the disgust lingering in his tone. 

“It’s more than that, but also, yeah, kinda.”

“What the fuck?” He mumbles quietly.

“Trust me it's good! You just have to get past the slight ickiness of it.”

“I deal with enough drama on patrol, I don't wanna watch it on television.” 

You turn to look at him with pleading etched onto every feature of your face. “Please, there's only thirty more minutes left.”

He sighs as he looks down at you, knowing he’d rather die again than deny you anything you want. “Fine,” he grumbles and takes another bite of the food. 

“Thank you!” You kiss his cheek, before returning your attention on the screen. 

When the episode finished he complained about how stupid it was to leave work, be stuck on an island with the same people everyday, just to make out with each other on national television, but the next night, he’s pressed against you on the couch as you press play for the next episode.

authors note: sorry this is really short, im taking summer classes to lessen my hours next semester and they take SO much of my time and leave me with no motivation to do anything else. might be a little less active for a bit to give my best in my classes!!

[ems-typewriter]

emmm, i love the pink and green colour scheme you have going on!! i'm totally not biased 👀 also ur fics are awesome sauce!! so glad to be mutuals <333

SUMMER!! thank you and i LOVE your theme too!! ironically i have the same header you’re using saved in my pinterest for options lolsls!!

thank you so much that means a lot and i’m also glad we’re mutuals <33 waiting patiently for the next smau 😛😛

[ems-typewriter]

happy pride my lovessss!!! <3

[ems-typewriter]

Hi! Do you think we could be moots? I really love your work and congrats on hitting 100 followers! I absolutely love your writing and your vibes. ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

yes of course i would love to!! and thank you so much for saying that it means a lot!! <3

[ems-typewriter]

CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS AND 1K LIKES OMGMGMGMGMGMG

AHHH THANK YOUUU!! <3 still so insanely surreal but also so motivating

[ems-typewriter]

guyyssssss!!! actually insane but my ruination fic hit 1,000 likes and I hit 100 followers in the same day!! THANK YOU to everyone who's read or interacted with my posts because i genuinely didnt think id get this type of attention

my inbox is open for anyone who wants to chat/mutuals (maybe ill do requests in the future but im just super busy right now)

MWAHH thank you all again!! <3

[ems-typewriter]

Waking Them Up Because You’re Hungry

includes: dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake

summary: you wake up your boyfriend in the middle of the night because you're hungry

word count: dick - 0.8k, jason - 0.6k, tim - 0.6k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, use of pet names, no y/n

dick grayson

You turn around for the 30th time in the past hour trying to get comfortable in bed, but it again isn't working. You’re facing your boyfriend who's fast asleep next to you and study the pattern of his breathing in hopes that it will lull you to sleep, but your inability to get comfortable isn’t due to the mattress or the pillow or even the temperature of the room–It's the fact you're starving. 

You had a quick lunch today, but got held up late at work and weren't able to eat dinner. By the time you got home, all you wanted to do was take a hot shower and then go to sleep with Dick’s warm body pressing against your back, but when you laid down, you felt that hunger strike again. 

Thinking you could just brush it off was apparently the wrong choice, because now you're stuck with Dick’s arms pressing you against his chest, while you debate how you’re gonna slip out without waking the vigilante. Ever so slowly you pull away from his chest while lifting his arm to slip out unnoticed. You’re far enough away from him that you let yourself exhale the breath you were holding in as you set his arm back on the mattress, and just as you thought you successfully went unnoticed, you feel his arm wrap back around you and pull you against him again.

“Where’re you going?” His voice was thick with exhaustion, filling you with immediate guilt for waking him up.

“Sorry for waking you. Go back to sleep, Dickie.” 

“Mmm, don’t leave.” He presses a lazy kiss to the exposed skin of your collarbone.

“I’ll be right back, I'm just hungry.” As if on cue, your stomach grumbles loud enough for him to hear and he pulls back slightly to look at you with a heavy lidded gaze. 

“When’s the last time you ate?”

You look down to mess with a loose thread attached to the comforter. “Lunch,” you admit quietly, “But I was super busy at work and didn't have time to eat, then when I got home I just wanted to sleep, but now that it’s night time I’m more hungry than I thought and can’t fall asleep.” 

You watch as he slowly pushes himself to sit up on the bed and stretch his back. “What do you want?”

“What?”

“To eat.” 

“No, Dick, it's fine I can make myself something. 

“I know you can make yourself food, pretty girl, but I want to do it for you instead. So, tell me what you want to eat.”

The moonlight shining through the window in your bedroom gives the chance to see the earnest way he's looking at you, and just when you thought you couldn’t fall more in love with Dick Grayson, you feel yourself tumbling all over again. 

“Uh–I guess waffles sound good?” 

“Do you want bacon with it?” 

You’re about to shake your head no, not wanting to cause more of a hassle for him, but bacon does sound really good. “If that's okay.” 

He smiles brightly at you as he climbs over you to get out of bed. “Yeah, that's okay, pretty girl.” Haley wakes from her own sleep at the end of the bed from the commotion, looking between you and Dick before deciding it unworthy of her attention then laying her head back against your feet. 

You move your feet to slip out from under the covers to follow Dick to the kitchen, when he presses a gentle kiss to your temple while pushing you back into the bed. “Stay here. Don't want you to lift a finger.”

He’s gone before you can protest, turning on the hallway light with him. You lie back down and face the wall listening to the sounds of mixing, sizzling, and the occasional mumbled curse from the kitchen. After about 15 minutes the smell of bacon wafts into the bedroom enough for Haley to recognize it and hop off the bed in search of any pieces that Dick will give her. 

Another ten minutes pass when you finally hear the familiar creak of the bedroom door swinging open again. With both hands Dick is holding a wooden tray that’s holding a plate with two waffles, a side plate of bacon, a bowl of fruit, and even a glass of orange juice. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m hungry but not that hungry,” you laugh as he places the tray onto your lap.

“I know, that’s why I brought two forks.” He smiles as he takes one of the strips of bacon off the plate and arranges himself under the sheets to sit up next to you.

“Thank you for this.” You rest your head on his broad shoulder as you reach for your own piece.

“Next time I’ll make you a full thanksgiving feast.” 

jason todd

Jason's arm is wrapped around your middle with your back pressed against his chest. He fell asleep an hour ago, but you just weren’t tired, so you reached for your phone and started to scroll on tiktok quietly. You were getting the usual videos on your feed–book recommendations, edits, and reality TV clips–but paused when you came across a video of a woman waking her husband up at three in the morning and asking him to make food for her. 

It was an innocent enough prank, so you turn your phone off and set it aside, then turn to face Jason. You admire the rare softness of his face while he's sleeping, before gently running your hand up and down his arm to wake him. Almost immediately, his training kicks in and his eyes snap awake to run over your face looking for any sign of panic or pain. 

“What?” 

“I’m hungry, Jay.”

His shoulders relax slightly and he pulls you closer against him. “We have ramen in the pantry.”

“But an omelette sounds really good right now and you know I’m terrible at making them.”

“Seriously?” His voice is gruff against your skin.

You just nod, hiding your smile against his chest. You feel the sharp rise and fall of his chest as he lets out a deep breath, before tossing the comforter off himself, making sure it stays around you, and mumbles, "I'll be back.”

Just as he’s about to step onto the floor, you start giggling and grab his arm to stop him. “It was just a joke Jay. I saw a tiktok of a girl doing it to her husband and wanted to see if you’d do it for me.”

He gives you a glare that holds no heat behind it. “You woke me up because of a… tiktok?”

“I’m sorry,” you say while still laughing quietly.

He steps out of bed and lifts his arms above his head in a stretch. “Well now I’m hungry so I’m still gonna go make that omelet.” He moves quickly as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, ignoring your yelp of surprise thats quickly followed by protests, and walks out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen.

“Hey! Put me down, Jay!”

“Nope. You started this, so now you’re finishing it with me.”

“But it's cold and the bed was so warm!”

He gently places you on the counter next to the stove, slips off the slightly battered hoodie he was wearing, and helps you into it. “There, all warm now.” 

Leaving him in just sweatpants that rest low on his waist, your gaze lingers on his torso, then flicks around to the familiar marred skin on his body. As much as he hates them, you’ve memorized every scar that rests on his body like a map of constellations because to you they show his resilience and how strong he is for surviving everything he’s been through. 

He starts getting the pan ready then mixing the eggs together with the other ingredients. The quiet sound of the eggs sizzling surrounds you both as he starts to cook the two omelets, his attention half on the food and half on you. He reaches for your hand and carefully intertwines his calloused fingers with yours, only removing them when he has to flip the omelette, just to quickly return back. 

Once finally done, he plates them, handing one to you and then taking the spot next to you on the counter and taking a bite of his own omelette. “Thank you, Jaybird.”

“Mhm. Your welcome, baby,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. 

tim drake

Taking a deep breath, you slowly blink your eyes open, starting to wake up. As you squint, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room, you catch sight of the clock on the bedside table reading 3:36am. Geez. You faintly remember dreaming about sitting at a table with a mouthwatering burger in front of you, but before you were able to take the bite, you woke up. 

You’re annoyed you woke up because now you’re craving a burger at three in the morning. You sigh quietly and turn around expecting to see Tim fast asleep with his lips slightly parted, but instead, a dull light illuminates his face as he stares down at the laptop, his eyes flying across the screen. The bluelight glasses you bought him for his birthday are pushed to the top of his head. 

“Y’know the whole point of those glasses is to wear them while staring at a screen, right?” You hear your own exhaustion lingering in your tone.

He turns and looks down at you with a sheepish smile then carefully moves them off his forehead and back onto the bridge of his nose. “What are you doing up, love?” 

You sigh dramatically and wrap an arm around his stomach then curl against his side to steal his body heat. “I dreamt of a burger and now I want a burger.”

A soft laugh spilled out of him, surrounding the space between you both. “Oh yeah?” 

You nod, “Why are you awake? Thought you were gonna actually sleep tonight?”

He looks back at the laptop. “I was just finishing up this case. I’m super close to figuring everything out.”

You stare up at him and the bags that consistently linger under his eyes. Gently, you push the laptop off his lap and onto the side of the bed before taking the spot on top of him, using his chest as your new pillow. “Maybe you should take a break and go to bed, Tim.” 

“I’m not even tired.”

You lift your head to look at him, “When did you drink your last redbull?”

“Like… an hour ago.” 

Sighing softly, you rethink your strategy, because he's not gonna fall asleep soon when he drank caffeine not too long ago. “Okay. Then how about we go grab burgers instead?” 

“I really gotta do this cas–”

“Please, Tim. One break won’t kill you and I wasn't kidding when I said I was craving a burger, so if anything you’d be doing this for me.”

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds, likely weighing the pros and cons in his head, before sighing and gently rolling you off him. “Alright, come on.”

You smile brightly at him as you toss on one of his sweatshirts and follow him out of your shared apartment and to his car. The car drive isn’t long with the nearest Bat Burger only being a couple minutes away. Neither of you talk on the drive there, letting the quiet music play through the speakers, while he keeps his hand intertwined with yours next to the gearshift.  

Once getting to the restaurant, he orders your usual meal without even needing to ask you and then gets himself some food as well. “Thank you, Tim,” you whisper as you lean over the console to place your head against his arm.

He smiles and presses a kiss to your nose, cheek, then temple. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure this was your plan all along.” 

authors note: first time writing tim which is exciting but also nerve wracking because im worried about mischaracterizing him some. please let me know if you have any notes on him so i can improve because i wanna write him more if possible!!

[ems-typewriter]

Friction

pairing: jason todd x reader

summary: jason and reader go for a ride on his motorcycle, but end up getting into a crash

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: sfw, fem!reader, cursing, car crash, angst, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, no y/n, use of pet names

The low light of the lamp lit the room enough for you to make out the words inked onto the page of your book. The TV playing in the background was loud enough to fill the quiet of the apartment while you waited for Jason to come home from patrol. He was supposed to be home 2 hours ago, but the door has remained locked since he left this morning. 

You’ve been on the same page of your book for the past ten minutes–none of the words truly sinking in because you’ve been stuck worrying about your boyfriend's safety. Usually he’s able to let you know if he’ll be late, but tonight, there wasn’t even a text. You give up, tossing aside the book and instead choose to sit on the fire escape to watch over the city with hopes of seeing a glimpse of his familiar red. 

The wind nips at your cheeks and you pull the hood of Jason’s old hoodie over your hair to protect from the cold. His scent envelopes you as you gaze at the broken city below your feet. You whip your head around at the sound of a lock turning from inside the house, and crawl back through the open window, and toward the front door. 

Jason steps inside the quiet apartment and catches your eye immediately. His shoulders are hunched, his brow set in a furrow, and overall looks utterly defeated. You don’t care to wait for him to toe off his boots before walking into his arms to mold your body against his.  

“You were gone.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers as he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline, “it was a shitty night and things kept coming up.” His voice holds a hint of frustration behind it. 

You look up, resting your chin on his chest. “Bad night?”

“Very.”

You stay quiet as you try to read his expression. He’s always been bad at asking for help from anybody, so you’ve learned to adapt to his needs and figure out what he wants instead. However, it's difficult to do so when his face stays set in the grim expression like he’s holding all his emotions behind that brick wall he's forced around himself. 

“I’m gonna go for a ride.” 

You let your hand run down the length of his arm until your fingers brush his before stepping back from him and nodding. You’ve learned that when nights are really bad, he’ll go for a ride on his motorcycle by himself to clear his thoughts. He never asks you to go and you never push to go either. 

You watch as he walks to the bedroom to grab his helmet and keys before walking back out to where you now stand in the kitchen to make a cup of tea. You feel his gaze burn on your back as you turn on the stove for the kettle to warm before turning to face him again. 

“Come with me?” His voice is so quiet, that you barely hear him.  

“You want me to go with you?”

He nods once, and that's all the confirmation you need to turn off the stove and walk into the bedroom to change into the riding gear Jason bought you–he’s made it very clear from the beginning that you won’t get on the bike without it. He’s never told you how much he spent on all of it, but when you looked up the brand Alpinestars one night, you found it was the most reliable, but expensive gear on the market. 

You walk back out and let him lead you out the door and toward the usual spot where his bike is parked. He helps you into your helmet, like he always does, and then throws on his own with much less care than he did for you. As you throw you leg over the bike and wrap you arms around his chest, you decide to remain quiet for the ride to give him the chance to sort out his own thoughts. 

It doesn’t take long to get onto the highway where Jason speeds up to merge on and you keep your arms tightly around his torso as the wind hits your helmet harshly. A quick glance at the speedometer tells you he’s being vigilant about the number and choosing not to speed, likely because of you being on the back of the bike. 

It’s quiet this late at night. You don’t pass many other cars as you drive down the street, most establishments that you can make out don’t have any lights on to invite customers, and you’re left with your thoughts. You think about Jason mostly–about how some nights you selfishly wish he didn’t have a double life to fulfill that leads, more often than not, to danger.

About twenty minutes have passed before he's slowing down to take an exit then turning around to get back on the highway, but this time to go back home. There's a few more cars on the road going this direction, which you only notice because Jason has to weave around them more often than he did previously. 

You were looking up at the sky, when you heard Jason for the first time through the comms set up on the helmets as the bike sharply move to the left. 

“Shit!”

You barely process the car on your right moving into the lane Jason is riding in, before it's too late. Jason tried to avoid the car, but the sharp movement sent the bike out of his control and into the concrete barrier on the side of the road. The bike flips from under both of you, bucking you off and throwing you across the shoulder of the road. You faintly feel your back slam into something painful, but the world quickly falls out of focus and then into nothing.

Jason tried to correct the movement in time, he really did, but the car forced him to turn so sharply that he just couldn’t get the bike to pull away from the barrier. He felt every tumble against the asphalt as he was thrown off. 

He’s disoriented, but that's nothing new for him, so he locks the pain into a different part of his mind, and pushes himself to a kneeling position. The now mutilated bike rests on the side of the road with scraps of the motorcycle trailing from where the first collision had happened. As he looks further, his eyes lock onto you, laying on the asphalt, unmoving. His mind narrows to this moment and for the first time since his death, he feels genuine fear.

He pushes himself up the rest of the way, ignoring the protest of his legs, and runs to you as fast as he can while yanking his helmet off so he can see better. Every step he takes feels like he's trudging through mud and can’t get to you fast enough. He’s begging and praying to every God he doesn’t believe in for you to be breathing. He’d give his life again if it meant you could live right now. 

Please. Not her. Not my world. 

Finally, he's standing before you and dropping unceremoniously onto his knees and pulling your helmet off as quickly as he can while still being gentle. Your eyes are shut, your lips barely parted, and skin indented from the helmet staying securely on you. His fingers make quick work of finding the pulse at your neck, and he could cry at the solid and steady life he feels beating against his fingers. There’s a couple scrapes on your hands, but the gear did good work of keeping you from getting any roadburn like he did. 

You likely blacked out from hitting the concrete barrier harshly and having the breath knocked out of you or maybe a concussion depending on how harshly your head collided with the wall. That doesn’t matter to Jason right now though. All he cares about is the fact you're alive. 

His forehead drops against yours, and he whispers broken apologies that you can’t hear against your skin. He pulls back to adjust you carefully so your head rests on his lap, then he reaches for his helmet he set aside to rip out the comm inside. He changes the channel from the one he uses when biking with you to the private channel the Bats use. 

“Babs?” His voice breaks only slightly as he speaks.

“Red Hood? I thought you were off patrol, what's going on?”

He stares down at your unconscious body, “We got into a wreck on my bike. She's unconscious. She needs medical. Please.” 

“Shit, okay I’m on it.”

The faint sound of steady beeping pulls you from your sleep. Your limbs feel too heavy for your body, your head is fuzzy, and as you slowly push your eyes to blink open, everything is five levels too bright. All you see is a plain ceiling and panic rushes through you at the unfamiliar space, and you move to sit up, but a warm hand lands on your shoulder to keep you down. 

You quickly look to the side, ready to fight the stranger, but instead you catch sight of the familiar white tuft of hair and emerald eyes. Jason. Your body relaxes against what you now realize is plush bedding beneath you as Jason watches your every move.

“You’re safe.”

“Wh– What happened?” your voice is raw from not using it for a while.

His eyes harden slightly as he blows out a harsh breath through his nose, “I swerved to avoid a car about to hit us, but I lost control of the bike and we crashed.” His voice is gentle as he asks, “Do you remember that?”

Pieces fall into place in your memory as everything comes back to you. The quiet. The car. Swerving. Being thrown off. Hitting the barrier. You nod carefully.

“Good. That's good.”

“It’s bright in here.” You mumble quietly as you blink against the harsh light hitting your eyes.

He lifts his hand to run it across your brow carefully, “You got a concussion. The helmet did what it could, but with the speed you took that hit…,” he trails off. “You’re lucky to have worn the helmet.” 

He steps away from you and walks to the light switch, flipping off the light. You're left with the much more tolerable glow of the moon shining through the window to illuminate the room. “Thank you.”

He takes the seat next to the bed you're laying on and you take a moment to glance around the room. There's a desk pushed against the window that's piled high with books that look well loved and some other clutter. A dresser across the other wall with two picture frames: one of Jason, his brothers, and Bruce while the other is a photo of you and Jason. Then as you look to your right, against the bed is a machine that was making the rhythmic beeping–you now realize as your pulse–that pulled you from your sleep. 

It slowly hits you that you’re in Jason’s room at Wayne Manor, which is why it wasn’t instantly familiar, because you don’t stay here very often. You turn back to Jason and he's staring at you with watery eyes.

“Jay?”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I– I couldn’t protect you. I should’ve done something different. Should’ve tried harder.”

You quickly shake your head, but stop when it makes you feel a little dizzy. “No. Jason this wasn’t your fault. You did what you could.”

“I thought you were dead,” his voice is barely a whisper, almost haunted by the memory. 

“But I’m not.” 

His forehead drops to where your hands are intertwined. “I’m sorry.”

“Jay, honey.” You lift your free hand to run through his soft waves. “It’s not your fault.”

He just clings onto your hand more desperately. 

“If it weren't for the gear you bought me, I wouldn’t be here. If you didn’t notice the car coming toward us, this would’ve been worse. You can’t change other people's actions, only how they affect you. You did that for me. I’m here because of you, okay?”

He nods ever so slightly against your arm. 

“Thank you for keeping me safe.” 

He lifts his head and rests his chin on your arm. A lone tear falls down his cheek and you quickly wipe it away. 

“Come here,” you whisper, “the bed’s cold without you.” 

He stands up and slides under the covers to wrap his arms around you gently, not wanting to hurt you where you might have bruises. His warmth soothes you immediately as you curl against his side. 

“What happened to the driver?” 

“Tim’s working on it.”

“Don’t do anything too severe.”

“No promises.” He leans down to press another kiss to your brow as a laugh bubbles from you, even though you know he’s likely not joking. 

He holds you through the night and doesn’t let himself fall asleep until you do, wanting to ensure you really are here, alive, in his arms. Once he felt your breathing even out against his chest, he brushed some of the stray hairs from your cheek to gaze at you. He leans in, pressing a feather light kiss to your brow as he whispers, “I won’t fail you again.”

authors note: soooo one of my friends now knows about my account and it's very weird to know she's probably reading this so... hey!

[ems-typewriter]

em's masterlist ৻ꪆ

಄ DC

dick grayson / nightwing

» Lacy, oh, Lacy

» Product Thief

» Anything For You

» Waking Them Up Because You're Hungry

» Watching Love Island With Them

» On Your Period

» Asking Them To Pick You Up While You're Drunk

jason todd / redhood

» Snapping Into Place

» Daydream

» Ruination

» Friction

» Waking Them Up Because You're Hungry

» Watching Love Island With Them

» On Your Period

» Dreams of You

» Asking Them To Pick You Up While You're Drunk

tim drake / red robin

» Waking Them Up Because You're Hungry

» On Your Period

» Asking Them To Pick You Up While You're Drunk

಄ Marvel

peter parker / spiderman

» Mirror, Mirror

಄ PHM

ryland grace

» Collision Course

[ems-typewriter]

Ruination

pairing: royal guard!jason todd x princess!reader

summary: when reader is being pressured into a marriage, she finds an unlikely candidate she actually likes: jason, the captain of the guard

word count: 4.5k

warning/tags: sfw, fem!reader, readers' mom sucks, mild angst, fluff, no y/n, reader feels trapped in her life

The sharp knock at the door startles you from where you sprawled across your bed in your nightgown whilst half asleep. Without waiting for your response, the three women you've grown accustomed to since childhood walk inside your bedroom. The curtains are drawn back, your covers pulled off you, and the familiar sound of the bath filling breaks the once peaceful silence. 

“I don’t want to go today,” you mumble into your pillow. 

“You must attend the meeting with your family.” Alice, the oldest handmaiden of the three, pulls the covers further away from your reach as you try to cling to the warmth they gave you. 

You sigh dramatically as you relent trying to steal the covers back from Alice, but she’s very persistent when she wants to be. “But why must I wake up at 8:30 when the meeting isn't till 11:00?” You wonder if she must tire from having this conversation so often.

“Because it takes an hour and half to get you ready and you also must eat breakfast before going. Now up.” 

Slowly sitting up from the mattress and resting your feet against the bone chilling floor, you catch the sight of Gwen and Ira, your two other handmaidens, getting the bath ready and choosing the dress you are to wear at the meeting with your mother and father. You try to rub the sleep from your eyes, but you still feel like falling back into the heap of pillows and blankets. 

You thank Gwen for setting the bathroom up as you step inside and make quick work of shedding your clothes and stepping into the hot water. It does little to shake the sleep from your body, but with no time to linger in the water, you wash, then step out to dry and slip on the robe that rests on the counter. 

When you step back into your room, you sit at the vanity so Gwen can braid and pin your hair into a style suitable for the dress chosen and Ira can apply just enough makeup to enhance your features. You stare at a spot on the wall and let your mind go blank while they fuss over you. This was always the part of the day you dread–it made you feel like a doll being dressed to appease everyone else but yourself. 

Once dressed into an exquisite dress that leaves you quite literally breathless due to the corset that's cinched to the tightest it could go, you step into the matching ballet flats as Ira and Gwen take their leave while Alice stays behind, like always. 

“Please remember to mind your attitude with His and Her Majesty.” She brushes a curl that rested awkwardly on your shoulder to flow down the expanse of your back.

“I think I know how to handle my own mother and father,” you whisper back with a smile on your face. Alice had spent a lot of time with you growing up and she's become somewhat of a second mother–always doting over you, reminding you, and most importantly: listening, something your own mother chooses not to do at times.  

“I also know how you can be when Her Majesty makes decisions that you don’t agree with.”

“Because they’re always decisions about my life that I don't get a choice in. It's not fair.”

“I know it's not, but it's the price to pay for the castle you live in and the title you have.” 

“I didn’t ask to pay the price. I didn’t choose this bargain,” You say feeling that heat your chest lighting to life like a hearth. 

Alice, always calm as ever, runs a hand down your arm. “I know,” she whispered, “Just please, keep that fiery personality you have to a minimum.”

You relent with a quiet sigh, “Okay, I’ll try.”

She smiles and rushes you out the door to walk through the familiar castle halls and to the study room where your parents await your arrival. After 10 minutes of navigating, you stop in front of the solid wooden door that remains closed, then rasp your knuckles loud enough to catch the attention of your parents. 

“Come in!” 

The door lets out a loud creak as you open it and you step inside the familiar room. The large desk in the middle takes up the expanse of the room, with bookshelves lined with books on the shelves. Your mother and father sit on the opposite side of the desk as you take the plush seat across. 

“Good morning,” You say with as much confidence as you can muster in this moment. It’s not often they call you into formal settings like this. 

“Hello, my dear.” You’ve always been closer with your father even since a young age–your mother always expected so much from you and felt more like a tutor than a mom. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m okay, just mildly tired.”

“Stayed up late reading again?” 

You smile sheepishly, “Yes, maybe a little bit.”

Your father smiles at you from his seat, but when you glance at your mother, she wears an almost bored expression on her face, like she can’t imagine staying up through the night to read words off a page. “We needed to speak to you about what you’ve chosen to put off for years.” 

Her words immediately make the smile drop from your face and every bone in your body want to retreat from this room immediately. “No.”

“You need to marry,” her voice holds the authority as it would if she were making a public announcement to our people, “and you need to do it soon.”

“I don’t want to be forced into a marriage against my will. I am not some pawn to use so you can make your allegiances with neighboring kingdoms!” Desperation is not a powerful enough word to explain how you feel about avoiding this future. You loathe the idea of being forced into a marriage with a suitor you do not know and do not wish to marry. “I’m not even the heir, so why must I marry at your convenience?”

“While you may be last in line for the throne, we need alliances and we need heirs–both of which you can provide.” You look toward your father to silently plead to fight for you, but his face is full of pity. You shake your head and look back at your mother as she continues. “We have given you three years past legal marriage age to come to terms with this. You will not argue with this.” 

“I am sorry sweetie.” Your fathers tone tells you he fought for you while he could, but it's time to accept the reality. 

“We are holding a ball here in a month's time on solstice. We have eligible suitors coming in from different kingdoms to meet you.”

You’re at a loss of words as you stare at the woman who's supposed to care and support you as she betrays you with the sharpest knife she owns. You keep your head down as you stand from the chair, refusing to say a word to either of them and thankfully they don't stop you as you march out of the study and into the hallway. 

You don’t even think, just walk on autopilot through the hallways and out the back doors till you reach the gardens. The flowers are barely in bloom, only few colors outshine the green, but the environment relaxes you as you sit on the grass, looking like a desolate portrait.

“Princess.”

You turn your head at the familiar voice that cuts through the gusts of wind. “Captain Todd.” 

“Is there any particular reason you’re sulking in the gardens?”

“Just a few.” You turn back toward the flora and pat the spot on the grass next to you. “Sit with me.”

You hear the shuffle of his boots walking across and toward where you rest. As he sits down, you can't help but notice how much he sticks out against the soft nature that surrounds him. Captain Jason Todd, our father's best, and tasked with the mission of being your personal guard. He’s quiet, but rose up the ranks quickly due to the multiple skill sets he has. You’ve never asked about his past in the conversations you have forced from him, but you catch glimpses of the scars that linger across his body.

You sigh quietly and pick at the blade of the grass, “I am to marry.”

“This was already expected, no?”

“It was, but it doesn’t mean I was prepared for it. I thought maybe I would meet the love of my life before it would be declared upon me, but it seems that was a foolish dream after all.”

He doesn't say anything for a long moment and neither do you. The wind presses softly against your cheeks and reminds you of the gentle life you wished to have. As the sun starts to make its leave, casting the sky in shades of oranges and pinks, you feel less like a princess and more like a prisoner surrounded in finery.  

You stand and brush the dirt and grass from the skirt of your dress with a new determination to get out if only for a second. “I must retire to my rooms, but I will see you tomorrow?” 

He glances at you with narrowed eyes for a second too long before responding, “Yes, till tomorrow, Princess.” 

You walk off and back into the castle before he can question you further. Making it to your room in record time, you're pulling the pins from your hair then straining your arms to untie the corset by yourself. Finally, once done, you slip out of the recognizable dress and into a mundane dress that sits in the back of your closet–one that won’t draw attention to yourself. 

You pull your hair back into a singular braid to keep it out of your face, and nod in approval as you glance at the mirror. Perfectly simple. You throw your windows open and glance at the now midnight sky, then down at the drop below. You’ve taken this path enough times to know where to step as a makeshift ladder and where to avoid getting spotted by the guards. 

With careful movements, you climb out the window and onto the ledge below you before following the path to keep getting closer and closer to the grass, and when you finally step on the ground, the freedom hits you immediately. You’re not often allowed to go into town, which is why you’re familiar with the path to sneak out. 

However, that victory is short-lived as you hear someone clear their throat from your left. You slowly turn and come face to face with the permanent frown on the Captain's face. “Going somewhere?”

“Uh– just checking the weather, making sure it’s clear skies throughout the night.”

“Mhm.”

“Please don’t say anything about this.”

“I never have before.”

“Okay, goo– wait what?”

“You think I didn't know when you sneak out of the castle?” His arms are crossed and instead of wearing his royal gear, he's wearing casual tunic and trousers. 

“You’ve… known about that?” 

“Every time.”

“And you never said anything?”

“No, I would follow from afar to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid or attract the wrong attention.” He says it so bluntly that you’re not sure if you should be upset or touched. 

“But not tonight?”

He stares at you for a long second. “Not tonight. I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”

You smile up at your guard and loop your arm through his to pull him along with you. “Then come on, we have places to be.” 

The walk into town was quiet, neither of you saying anything significant, but you noticed all the small things he did while walking down the pathway. He’d pull you away strangers who stepped too close, kept his pace slightly in front of yours so he could react quickly to an attacker, and even moved the hood of your cloak on top of your head so you’d be less recognizable.  

Not many shops are open at this hour, but the occasional shop would have their lights on for the people who walk the streets at dawn. You walk past a small bakery with nobody sitting inside, and guide Captain Todd to the entrance. The mouth watering smell hit you immediately, pulling you to the counter to order one of the many sweets. 

As you chat with the lady running the shop, you're thankful she doesn't recognize you as you order two sticky buns and hot chocolates. The cup is warm in your hand as you take it and hand the second one to Jason. He takes the cup and the offered sweet as you make your way out of the shop to sit at the Courtyard.

Finding an empty seat is easy when nobody is in the open expanse, so you sit down and watch the few people walk by completely unaware that their princess is gazing upon them. 

“Why do you sneak out here? There’s nothing special about a late night snack you could get at the castle.”

“It’s not about the snack, it's the fact I’m out of the castle.” You pull your knees to your chest and rest your chin upon them. “I don’t get to choose my life there. It reminds me of dreaming at night and knowing you’re dreaming, but being unable to stop it–it feels magical at first, but when you realize there's no escape, it becomes a nightmare.”

You glance at the night sky and wonder if the moon feels trapped in its own cycles as well. Jason doesn’t say anything so you speak again, “I don’t get to choose my dress or my hair for the day. When I asked to be taught swordplay like my brothers, mother denied and assigned me a tutor for ballroom dance. When I wished to learn gardening I was told it was too messy and instead got sat before a piano.” You look back over at Jason and his eyes have softened as he gazes at you while you speak of your feelings. “Coming here is my choice. I get to roam freely and pick what I want, not what is decided for me.”

“Like the marriage,” he offers quietly.

You nod with a sigh, “Like my awaiting marriage.” Turning back to the street, you watch a couple holding hands while laughing freely with each other. Love. Something you may never experience at this point. 

“I will teach you.”

“Marriage?” You ask, confused as to what he is talking about. 

“No. Swordplay.”

You whip your head around to face him again, “You’d do that?”

He nods.

“What if you get caught? You’ll get in trouble for this if my mother finds out.”

“She won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Trust me?” 

“Okay,” you breathe out as the reality of what he’s offering hits you. The smile on your face grows to a full grin before you tackle him in a hug while nodding. “Thank you, thank you!” 

His laugh–something you’ve never heard before–is rough and deep as he lays on the grass where you brought him down. “You're welcome.” 

The following night, dressed in a tunic and pants you found in the bottom of a drawer, you make your way to the now abandoned music room in the castle that Jason requested you meet him at. When you get there you see him resting against the wall with a wooden sword in his hand. You’d seen your brothers use those when they first started training at a young age, but never since then. 

“Captain.” You announce yourself to him in the dark room lit only by the soft glow of the moonlight. “This is your secret spot for us to train?”

“Mhm.”

“And you’re sure we won’t get caught? I cannot risk your title for the sake of an activity I want to learn.”

“They made this room soundproof when it was built and now that it’s not being used, it's a good place to make a lot of noise.”

Your cheeks heat slightly, but thankfully in the dark, he won’t be able to see. “Right,” you whisper, “I assume that's for me?” You walk further into the room whilst looking at the wooden sword. 

He nods, handing it to you. “It’s how every soldier was trained to use a sword in the beginning. We will start with this and work on how to handle and hold it.”

You run your finger along the smooth wood as you analyze it. There's a few blemishes indicating its own use, but it seems fairly new. You hold it up like how you imagine a guard would, but the Captain immediately corrects your form. 

“You want to keep your elbows up and have your feet apart to hold a good base. You don’t want to be knocked over on the first hit.” He goes through the proper stances and techniques with you on his own sword, correcting and making adjustments to your stance as needed. You do your best to mimic each move he shows you, but it’s not as easy as you’d once assumed. 

“No, no like this.” He holsters his sword and walks behind you to adjust your arms. “If you keep them far away from you, you’ll have less control. You always want to keep your arms close.” He pressed your elbow closer to your ribs. 

You turn your head to glance back at him not expecting him to be so close to you. One of his arms rests on your waist and the other on your elbow, and you become hyper aware of the heat radiating from his skin and through your clothes. You can’t help yourself when you glance down at his lips then back at his eyes that you realize shine a muted green under the moonlight. He watches you carefully, before blinking and dropping his hands and stepping back. 

Neither of you speak of the moment that passed as he urges you into the next position to stand. You can help but notice how your waist still tingles from where his hand lingered. 

You’d met Jason every night in the old music room to practice your swordsplay, which you’d even upgraded from the wooden sword to a real one, for the past month. It had been freeing to learn something of your own volition inside the castle walls. Tonight, however, there's no lesson to attend with the Captain because you’re to be paraded around in an overly exquisite gown to find your suitor. 

At your request, Alice is the only handmaiden in the room tonight. The thought of having more than one person in your space right now makes you feel even more sick to your stomach. She finishes the pins to keep your hair in the meticulously designed style while you force to keep the dinner in your stomach. 

“You look beautiful my dear, there's no reason to look horrified.” 

“I’m just… nervous. I don’t want to do this.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of wine you could sneak.” She smiles at you through the mirror, and while that would normally make you laugh, it does little to ease your nerves.

She sighs and brings another chair to sit in while facing you. “Is this about the Captain?”

That snaps you from your jittery daze. “What? What does the Captain have to do with anything?”

She gives you a knowing look, “I’m not blind, I see the way that boy looks at you and how you look at him. I also know you’ve been sneaking off a night to go somewhere, which I’m assuming he’s been doing the same.”

“I haven’t– How did you know?”

“It’s my job to take care of you and know your whereabouts. Don’t worry, nobody else knows.”

You bring your hand to a bead on your dress to fidget with. “It’s nothing like that okay. He’s just been teaching me to use a sword.”

“And you can say you feel nothing for him?”

“I… I don’t know.” You admit to yourself for the first time that you might have become closer with your guard and you might have developed feelings for him.

“You might want to figure that out before you go out there to all the suitors who came here for you.”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel anyways, Mother would never allow him and I together.” 

“Let me deal with Her Majesty. Aspire for whomever you want.”

She stands back up and finishes with your hair, leaving you to think on her words and your own feelings. There were always little moments with Jason during the late nights and even times during the day where he would escort you to different places. You couldn’t explain it, but when you caught his gaze, you felt a magnetic pull toward him.

With everything finished, Alice helps you up and walks you outside of the ballroom. The doors are shut, and the guards standing by are waiting for your approval to open them and send your arrival announcement to the guests. 

You turn to Alice as she whispers, “You know what you want, do not be afraid to reach for the farthest star.” 

You pull her into a hug as a thank you, and when you step back, you nod at the guards to let you inside. The large double doors swing open and you hear the announcement: “And now please welcome the Princess of Gotham.”

You step into the ballroom and feel everyone's eyes turn to you. You plaster the polite smile onto your face as you walk down the few steps toward the floor where many men of ages similar to yours bow to you as you pass. The walk to get to your throne next to your brothers feels never ending, but when you glance up and see Jason standing by your throne as many of the other guards do, the panic eases slightly. 

Finally making it to your seat and sitting down as your father stands to make the announcement reminding everyone tonight is a night of merriment, but you know that's simply a deception. Everyone in this room knows it’s the night you choose your husband. 

The night drags on as you're pulled from person to person to dance with them. Your feet ache from following the music, you tire of the same conversation with each partner, and you feel nothing for any of these men. 

You take advantage of the small gap between suitors coming and asking for your hand in dance to escape and grab a glass of wine. When you walk to the refreshments and take a sip from your glass, you see a familiar brooding man with that white curl that rests upon his forehead standing by the corner scoping out the room as if waiting for someone to attack. With a smile you walk over to him.

“Captain Todd.” 

“Princess.” 

“What are you doing over here?”

“I’m watching over the room to make sure no harm will come out of tonight.”

You smile up at him. “Always on guard.”

“That is my job.” His tone is clipped as he speaks to you, which usually isn't the case. You were beginning to notice his voice softening each night you would meet with him, becoming so unlike the guard you once knew, but tonight it feels all progress has been reverted. You will not allow that.

“Dance with me.”

He finally meets your gaze. “What?”

“One dance.”

“No. I’m not the one you should be dancing with.”

“I get to decide who I dance with.” You grab his hand and try to pull him along, but he holds firm in his position.

“I will not risk you getting in trouble for something you do not truly wish for.”

You stare at him for a long moment, the self-deprecation in his eyes gleaming enough for you to see. “Please,” you whisper.

You see the hesitation in his eyes followed by the slight dip of his chin before you tug him along, this time with him following after you. Once you come to a stop in the middle of the ballroom floor, he carefully places a hand on your waist like he’s afraid his touch will burn you. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“That's alright, just follow my lead.”

Each step you take he follows along with, and for the first time this night, there is no over the top courting, talks of your partners lists of accomplishments, or even awkward compliments. It’s quiet with the small space between you both filled by the thrums of music. He doesn’t try to impress you or make you feel like an object being auctioned, instead its simply two souls dancing around each other. 

The song ends and he bows while you curtsy, but instead of taking a step away from him to be passed to the next suitor, you loop your arm through his and pull him along with you as you run out of the ballroom. He doesn’t question or try to stop you as you wind through the halls and open the doors to the gardens in the back. 

You stand before the garden that is now bloomed in a full array of colors that are nearly impossible to see with only the light of the moon hitting them. You look up at the stars that litter the night sky. Reach for the furthest star.

“The gardens?”

You just nod.

“Why did we just leave?”

“I don’t want any of those men. I cannot be with any of those men,” you whisper.

“I don’t think you have much of a choice, Princess.”

You turn toward him, your dress is practically glowing in the moonlight, as you stand only inches away from him. “I’m choosing now.”

His eyes drag across every feature on your face and you see the realization dawn on his own. “No. No, we cannot do that. It’s practically forbidden." His hands clench at his sides.

“There is no rule against it,” you counter.

He reaches for the loose strand of hair that had fallen during your dances with suitors you don't remember the name of and tucks it behind your ear. “I cannot put you through that.”

Your hand encircles his wrist to keep it at your cheek. You don’t say anything, you just watch him and hope he understands just how much you feel for him. 

“Your father would never forgive me. I could lose my title,” he says, but he leans down closer to you and his nose brushes yours. 

“I wouldn’t let him do that.”

He inhales sharply, “We can’t.” His voice is barely a rough whisper now. He shakes his head as if trying to pull himself out of it and step away but he stays firmly rooted in his spot. His other hand moves to your waist and pulls you flush against him. 

“Jason,” you whisper, and that's all it takes for his lips to crash against yours. His lips are soft against your own, but his kiss is rough, like he's scared someone will rip you away from his grasp. You move in synchrony, trading breath for breath till your heartbeats align, before he finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours while smiling.

“You might just be my ruin, Princess.”

authors note: i didnt even realize how much i wrote till i pasted it from my google doc... anyways! olivias new song is SOOOO insanely amazing and canada race weekend is finally hereee