hi, i'm amelia / holden and this is my sideblog where i reblog all my favourite fics :)
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SUMMARY: the sanji obsession clearly wasn't stopping and next thing i knew i was neck deep into a list of dating him headcanons. i said opla!sanji in the pairing but technically this is every sanji rolled into one like a beautiful pâté en croûte.
WARNINGS: fluff, talk about implied alcohol consumption, jealousy, talk about killing, cursing, last point talks about dom/sub dynamics, pet names and has kink undertones (nothing very explicit i think??) if i missed anything please do let me know!
WORD COUNT: 900
A/N: thank you to all the people who answered the poll. i usually write lists of 15 headcanons but here i had a little more so i first said "i'll make it 20" which turned into "well let's wait until i have 25" which ended up being 30 so yeah... there's that. please do not get used to me posting such a long list though. this is an exception that even i hadn't seen coming. again these aren't organized in any particular order.
WATTPAD | KO-FI | AO3
flowers, everywhere, all the time, in huge bouquets with beautiful colour gradients (this man has a particularly sharp eye for beauty).
the type of man to make sure you're fed (of course), but also very attentive to your water intake.
very physically affectionate, some would say clingy. he just loves having your smell around, burying his nose in your neck or on top of your head. holding you any time possible. very bent on holding your hand at all times. (but if you have a hard time with PDA he absolutely accommodates to your needs and boundaries.)
knows your morning and night routines and will do them for you if you're too tired to do it.
will have an absolute field day when you go for a long beauty routine every now and then, with the gentle scrubs and masks and will have you doll him up and give him a mask and everything. he thinks it’s fun and he sees how happy it makes you to share that with him so it really only has perks in his eyes.
little spoon, all day everyday.
when you dock in a larger city he takes you out on a date at a fancy cocktail bar before going back to the ship where he cooks an incredible (and expensive) meal for you. we’re talking ingredients he would never let luffy get anywhere close to cause it’s rare, expensive and needs to be enjoyed and not swallowed whole.
big on acts of service.
knows all of your favourites and pays attention to details.
will take you on shopping dates and buy you anything your heart desires, and if you don’t let him in the moment because you think it’s too expensive or that it’s not essential and not necessary to buy he’s definitely going back to buy it for you as a gift he’ll give you once the return deadline is passed.
somehow always knows what you need without you ever having to tell him.
will visibly swoon and get the heart eyes whenever you hold his face softly in your hands.
tries to outfit match as much as possible with you. first he thinks it’s cute, second he thinks all boyfriends should do their best to look great next to their partners, cause he sees dressing like shit as being disrespectful to the person you’re walking with.
won’t say no to you ever (except if he thinks you’re putting yourself in danger). he could say no to you and he would but he simply doesn’t want to and frankly doesn’t see the point of saying no to his princess.
spoils you to no end.
a bit childlike at times but it’s very endearing because you also know it’s only with you he can let his guard down like that.
loves picking up stuff to give you such as pretty seashells, wildflowers, rocks that look like hearts or a flower or anything cute, pretty sea glass of every color.
let’s you place his bangs properly and look underneath if no one is around.
dresses your plate like a smiley face to make you laugh when you’re grumpy (you always pretend it’s not gonna make you feel better but when you see it you always smile)
PICNIC DATES IN THE SUMMER !!!!
swoons whenever he hears you laugh, even worse when you giggle. however if another man is the reason why you laugh he gets jealous (in a cute way though, pouting + bummed type of jealous, not aggressive dOnT tALk tO hEr type of jealous)
(badly) serenades you under the moonlight (and loves to see you hide your embarrassed face in your hands)
a lot of very niche pet names but that are always insanely beautiful and poetic.
if he lived in a world where the titanic movie existed he’d 100% try to get you to recreate the scene at the bow of the merry every morning (most of the time you would indulge him because there’s nothing quite like gazing at his happy face)
would kill for you, not even a question.
loves to pretend to try and pick you up, as if you weren’t already together, using the cheesiest (sometimes borderline cringe) pick up lines. but you eat that sh*t up everytime cause you’re as whipped for him as he is for you.
loves to unwind after a long week simmering in a hot bath with you.
if you wear a bold lipstick he will ask you to give him a kiss and mark him up rather than see you blot the excess on a paper towel. even once asked you to ruin his white shirt's collar cause he thought it was hot to have stains in the shape of your lips all around his neck. (you've even gifted him a pocket square embroidered with a lipstick mark you'd left there so he could wear it on his heart all year long. he almost cried at the gesture.)
very bashful and easily flustered so you constantly try to find new ways to get to him. there’s nothing quite like seeing his cheeks get dusted pink and the tip of his ears turn rosy.
service top that worships you and the ground you walk on (in fact would very much like to be the ground you walk on). i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he’s submissive. that man is begging to get called a good boy and beaming when you do. (i will not elaborate nor argue. i am right and i know it, i do not care for anyone else’s objectively WRONG opinion.)
taglist: //
unless stated otherwise all pictures have been found on pinterest || thank you always for the likes but if you comment and/or reblog i am asking you in marriage.
i finally got around to read this and let me tell you:
talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference, put it in a blender, shit on it, vomit on it, eat it, give birth to it
BUT
...
it's fucking s**ji.
dude, how could you? i had to read all of this and imagine someone else? how could you do this to me? ughhhhhhhh
i guess that just shows how good of a writer you are because i had to replace that french man (derogatory) in order to read this. and i really wanted to read this.
in conclusion, i hate you for still obsessing over this man (again, derogatory) and writing about him but also i love you cause wow my bestie is so talented (she just wastes her potential on s**ji)🫶🏻🤭
SUMMARY: i’ve been reading one piece for fifteen years and any of my friends will tell you, ever since i started reading the manga i used to absolutely hate sanji. i thought he was insufferable and i hate how pervy he is. but the second i saw that scene in the live action where he comes up to the crew’s table at baratie and tries to rizz up nami i’ve fallen uncontrollably in love with him and i’ve been bothering @holden-caulfield non-stop with him.
so, since times have changed and my obsession with this man is not stopping any time soon; and since i’ve been falling asleep to fake scenari of him for a week i’ve put together a few headcanons i have for him so here we are. i might write some short blurbs for him in the future but so far i only have very vague ideas of stories so those will need to simmer a little bit longer before i get to it.
WARNINGS : talk of insecurity, french people slander (i'm french), talk about fighting and mention of blood, slightly suggestive on the last one (rapidly evokes kink themes). lmk if i missed any!
WORD COUNT : 400
A/N : (disclaimer) if you’ve read the manga/watched the anime you might argue that some of those might barely be considered headcanons however i do not care so leave me alone alright? and fyi: i don’t take criticism, that’s the whole point of hc’s so argue with the wall, thx. (i’m open to explaining my reasoning if asked though).
WATTPAD | KO-FI | AO3
people would tend to believe his favourite color is blue (searching for the all blue and all that) but it’s actually green.
he’s actually really insecure about women not loving him which is why he overplays it so much cause then the rejection doesn’t hurt. because he’s not being rejected because of who he is deep down but because he’s too extra and it’s just a game.
he’s very secretive and barely ever talks about his life before joining the crew, even less about his life before meeting zeff and working at baratie.
his favourite flowers are sunflowers and blue irises.
(in this universe he would’ve loved van gogh’s paintings)
sanji loves to smoke late at night under the moonlight, it calms him down.
he once miscut his bangs too short and awfully uneven and refused to let anyone see him without a bandana on his head to hide the massacre for weeks. (also threatened to go on strike with his cooking if anyone made fun of him in the meantime).
he’s french so he got the WORST character ever and a taste for defying authority and swearing (just look at him and zeff).
we all know sanji doesn’t use his hands to fight because they’re his work instrument and he’d rather die than damage them, but that’s not the only reason. the other reason he doesn’t use his hands is because he believes they’re meant to softly caress a woman’s skin and he would never allow himself to touch such a treasure with blood-stained hands.
it’s a canon fact that sanji is smart, but somehow he’s also such a himbo, he sees a woman and his IQ plummets faster than wall street in 2008.
his favourite season is spring.
the second a woman flirts back his brain freezes and half a hundred error messages pop up on the screen windows-style (with sound).
he’s got more of a taste for salty snacks than sweet ones (the only sweet snacks he likes are women)
this man supports women’s rights but mostly he supports women’s wrongs (just look at how he defended nami with his life after barely meeting her and how he will do the same with robin).
he particularly likes cold-distant women because the chase is that much more interesting and also (see next hc)
sooooo submissive coded. will let you do anything you want to him because he’s so happy you’re even willing to go there with him.
taglist: //
thank you for reading and liking the story. remember that on tumblr reblogs and comments go a long way for writers! thanks!
TAGGED IN A SANJI FIC?!?! jeez dude, i have a reputation, okay?!🙄
since someone is too horny down bad to actually hate sanji, i guess i'll have to be the voice of reason here🫡 it's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it.
"he overplays it so much cause then the rejection doesn't hurt."
... okay. i don't like having stuff in common with that eyebrow freak so like, stop bestie. just stop.
"he once miscut his bangs too short and awfully uneven."
WHAT A LOSER! (i have bangs which are too long and awfully uneven)
"he's french so he got the WORST character ever and a taste for defying authority and swearing."
i'm torn between hating on him and pitying him for the same reason. i'll choose the first tho.
"the other reason he doesn't use his hands is he believes they're meant to softly caress a woman's skin."
simp much?👀
"the second a woman flirts back his brain freezes and half a hundred error messages pop up on the screen windows-style."
again. i don't want anything in common with this man si please delete this, what the hell?!
"(the only sweet snacks he likes are women)"
SIMP!
"he particularly likes cold-distant women because the chase is that much more interesting."
pairings ; tasm!peter parker x reader , mcu!peter parker x reader , atsv!peter b parker x reader
word count ; 370
➵ TASM!PETER.
peter would walk in the door, a long day of learning at college and ready to snooze before patrolling the city, he’s rambling the moment he’s in the door, knowing you’re in the living-room watching tv.
however, his sentence is cut short by his breath abruptly choking, watching you sit on the sofa with a spider-man shirt on. you could practically see the heart eyes from your position as he notices it.
he’s not listening, walking over to you, “pete-?” you try. a large ‘humph’ erupting when peter collapses on top of you, head tucked in your neck while he fidgets with the t-shirt. “hm?” he mumbles, “you were talking about your day?”
“it’s better now i saw you in that.”
➵ MCU!PETER.
blush is evident on peter’s face the moment he sees you, standing in front of him with a spider-man shirt on, his eyes scanning all over it unsure with what to say. but he stutters a small, “is that a spider-man shirt?”
you tug on the hem, looking down at the white material with a smile across your expression, “yeah, thought i’d get a shirt with my boyfriend on it. it’s pretty cute, huh?” you look up at peter’s wide adoring eyes.
“cute? only the cutest!” you giggle through peter’s kiss, your cheeks squished with his hands as you mumble into his mouth, “we can get you one to match, pete?” and he’s groaning, pulling away before setting a bunch of pecks behind.
“the things you do to me.”
➵ ATSV!PETER.
“you’re joking,” peter speaks from his position, removing his spider-man suit the moment he entered the bedroom. you’re sitting in bed with a book and a spider-man shirt on enough to have him swoon.
“what?” you ask curiously, and peter is tripping over himself while kicking the remainder of his suit off his legs. “look at you! in a spider-man shirt, you look hot, honey.” the books forgotten to the side, you covering your face, “not hot.”
his hands are on your waist, atop the t-shirt and pecking your cheek not covered by your hand, “you’re so hot, when did you get this?” you pull your hands away, looking up at your boyfriend, “just today.”
oh I TOTALLY forgot about this but it’s an old fic (like, from when I first started out), but here’s a little something to keep the edge off while I slowly but surely write something proper to post🫶
“are you just good at absolutely everything, draco?” i glared up at his stupid smirking face, hating the amused glint in his eyes.
he crossed his arms, looming over me. “perhaps.”
his cheeks were tinted pink from the cold, his hair messy for once as opposed to his usual - perfectly gelled. it was actually my awful idea to go ice skating, and it just so happened a rink had been opened outside hogsmeade; out in the open, only few people and families currently skating around and all laughing amongst themselves. the ice glittered under the moonlight, but perhaps that in itself was another enchantment.
it appeared that i was the only one who couldn’t seem to grasp the balance between the thin blades and the ice, and now here i was - on my arse, flopped over on the ice like an uncentered penguin.
he reached his hand out, “come on. i’ll help you, i guess.”
i rolled my eyes but took his hand anyway, “yeah, any chance to show off, right?”
his eyes narrowed playfully at my remark before he suddenly let go of my hand, leaving me to stumble and almost topple over again. he caught me last minute and stabled me upright to help meet him eye level, grinning stupidly at how dependant i currently was on him (against my own will to not be as embarrassingly bad as I was at this).
“if by that you mean showing off my clumsy mess of a girlfriend, sure.”
i narrowed my eyes as i tried to be subtle about balancing against the ice without leaning all my weight onto him, although my fingers remained clenched around his in poorly suppressed fear, “you’ll have a none existent girlfriend by the end of tonight if you don’t shut up.”
despite my threats, tonight would be perhaps the worst type of night to break up - especially with the way that the night was dark enough to reveal all the secrets inside, constellations dancing and watching us below. all the bright patterns of stars winked at the skaters, seemingly gleaming in humour as they watched me try and fail to glide along. a cool breeze would echo across very rarely, but still enough to leave behind rouge on everyone’s cheeks and noses.
draco looked particularly magnificent, but i’d never admit that to the prat. not since he’s been laughing continuously all night, only just now deciding to offer help, even as my backside had made contact with the ice perhaps a dozen times now.
his hands outstretched separately, taking mine in each one. his fingers were hidden by black gloves - the softest of soft material, courtesy of the malfoys’ riches. i was somewhat disappointed to not be a witness to those hands, the ones that i loved so much with the beautiful rings and each small detail etched on them, but i appreciated the warmth and comfort they offered right now.
“come on, darling. just relax,”
i listened halfheartedly, trying to follow along steadily as he glided backwards at a slow, slow pace. i was looking at the ground and our ice skates, biting a lip to concentrate harder.
after what felt like a good round of the rink, i looked up at draco to see him already smiling at me. he grinned at my eye contact with soft, caring eyes, but contradicted the gentleness in his expression by teasing, “having fun? made quite the progress, i must say.”
my mouth parted slightly as i glanced around, seeing in immense despair that we’d only come a few metres from where i fell moments ago. a small groan fell from my lips and my hands came to throw up in the air out of habit. i caught my mistake a second too late, the ground suddenly falling from underneath me and almost completely throwing me off.
a quick slip of an arm came under my waist, catching me just in time. draco’s reflexes always seemed rapid when it came to me and my clumsiness; like in class when my equipment would roll of the table and he’d grab it just before it hit the ground, or in other houses’ quidditch matches when we’d both be in the audience and a rogue quaffle would threaten to collide with my face - that day, i’d opened my tightened eyes to see him clutching it with a smug grin. ‘trust me to always protect that pretty face,’ he’d said.
his face had moved to just before mine, an expression of shock displayed from my almost fall. it seemed his reflexes were simply a habit and not a conscious motion, the near accident causing as a surprise for the both of us.
his lips stretched into a smile and he released a cool breath in a relieved, amused sigh as i giggled back, “i’m sorry…i am trying, i promise,”
he pressed a kiss to my cheek and yanked me up, holding me so firmly that there was no chance of slipping now. he then pulled me so my head was nearly on his shoulder and his lips were perfectly lined next to my ear, and only i could hear every word he said as he whispered lowly, “how can i praise you when you’re just absolutely awful, my love?”
i felt heat rush to my cheeks, hating the subtle insinuations behind his words. “i’d shove you away if i wasn’t using you as my stand.”
he chuckled and returned to our previous position, continuing to slowly skate us along and giving small tips along the way.
minutes went by, but at last -
“that’s it, you’re getting the hang of it!”
i risked a quick laugh as i could finally match his quick paces, feeling a sense of balance come to me the more we skated round and round, him now going backwards so that he could lead me from in front.
eventually, he carefully let go of one of our joined hands. my eyes warily snapped up to him to which he just smiled reassuringly, coming to skate beside me instead of in front. we were still hand in hand as we continued, now me being much less dependant on him. he squeezed my hand in reminder that he was there, so i took a deep breath, and we went skating.
truly, we were skating around.
no interruptions from my falls, my nerves and my wobbles. i was laughing lightly as we travelled against the breeze, completely carefree in that moment.
that was, until draco turned his head and spoke casually into my ear, “i love you.”
he chose this moment to be the first time to ever say that? his words hardly registered as my mouth gaped open and my legs stopped working, all my limbs uniting together to forget what their jobs were.
the ice slipped away, the sky tilted and i was soon staring at the sky, still shocked and barely acknowledging the chill of the ice on my backside. draco’s face peered over, grinning so stupidly that i felt like jumping up and slapping him even more stupid.
despite prompted murderous intent, i felt an overwhelming smile reach my face before i noticed the hidden nervousness behind his eyes.
i sighed in mock tire as i tilted my head in sweetness. “i love you too, you prat.”
my goodness, it had been too long since i read one of your masterpieces... TOO LONG.
i forgot just how good you write and i'm glad i stumbled upon this one because 1. i missed draco's smug attitude and 2. ice skating?? are you kidding me??? i love this so much :')
also, i just found the most accurate representation of myself in a fanfic, not even kidding... "flopped over on the ice like an uncentered penguin." is quite possibly the best line ever written in the history of literature. and i had the pleasure to read it on this fine morning thanks to you, my dearest😮💨
SUMMARY: reader makes a very interesting discovery about her boyfriend’s musical taste. a discovery she’d been waiting to make for a very long time.
WARNINGS : fluff, some cursing (because i can’t help it i’m not sorry about it), mentions of things getting sexy for a second, reader might be as dramatic as eddie if i’m honest, i think that’s pretty much it.
WORD COUNT : 3.4K
A/N : i know i said i would be done with this by the middle of august, yes it’s almost christmas, here it is anyway. barely proofread, not beta-ed. i’ve spent way too long on this to the point i started to hate every effing line so, please enjoy the garbage my little racoons.
WATTPAD | KO-FI | AO3
summer ‘86. the sun was blazing over forest hills trailer park. you had just graduated along with your boyfriend and you were enjoying a well-deserved summer break.
it was a particularly hot july afternoon and you and eddie were hanging around his trailer. he was sprawled on his bed sporting only a pair of sweatpants out the hem of which one could take a peek at his boxer briefs. he was reading some fantasy book you hadn’t quite caught the name of while enjoying the lazy ebb and flow of the cool air produced by the fan gently grazing his hot skin. meanwhile, you were lying down on the floor, shins propped up on the edge of his bed fidgeting with anything and everything you could find lying about, gazing at the posters on his walls.
before starting my list of my favourite lines, i just want to day that this is a personal attack to tumblr. don't even not post my posts ever again. don't you try it bitch <3 (derogatory)
OK SO. THIS WAS PHENOMENAL. AND YOU DIDN'T LIKE IT?! i guess it's my job to tell you how, in fact, this is a masterpiece.
he was sprawled on his bed sporting only a pair of sweatpants out the hem of which one could take a peek at his boxer briefs.
dear lord, help me. this image. this. SIMPLY THIS.
this big bad boy everybody believed to be a cult leader not so long ago, half-naked, sporting boxer briefs adorned with little black hearts.
the boxers are back and boy do i love it. we need more blackheartsbriefs!eddie and i will not shut up about it.
“i think i’m rubbing off too much on you sweets, you’re starting to become way too dramatic,”
we love a self aware king✨
the tension was palpable, like cowboys about to dramatically duel each other.
cowboys? if i wasn't in before, i certainly am in now, but it might just me idk
nevertheless you slapped yourself mentally to keep it in your pants, this was war after all and eddie had the upper hand, but you were determined to win.
uhmmm i guess?? i guess it's fine, not what i would personally do but i'll let it slide for this once...🙄
"what if- what if i need moral support from my girlfriend after being humiliated like that? uh? humiliated by her by the fucking way!" he continued as dramatic as ever, snatching the cassette back from you again.
your honor, he's right. i will give him all the support he needs, thank you very much.
you were never going to give this up.
damn right we aren't, it's eddie's guilty pleasure mixtape we're talking about here, we aren't going to just forget about it, duh
BUT BESTIE REALLY, you always say fluff isn't your thing and all but, let me ask you this: if fluff isn't your thing, explain this. explain how you wrote this fluffy masterpiece.🤨
that's right, you can't tell me i'm wrong (i never am btw) :) and now i'll be waiting for more astonishing writing from you😌
“You’re going to be the death of me.” I shrugged, a mockery of a smile tainting my face. “I can live with that.”
ummm can this count as angst? Maybe, like…enemies to lovers?
“Harrington, get back here - now!”
His head turned over his shoulder, a winning smirk plastered on his face.
I narrowed my eyes, chasing after him through the crowd of people in the kitchen. He ran through the doorway and into the living room - even more cramped with people, night dark except for the flooding of neon lights. His tall figure was all I could rely on to keep track of as I dodged through the crowd, elbows out to ward off the drunken teenagers. His thick hair rose above them, I followed.
Just to taunt me, he held up his hand to flash the bra clutched in his grip. Not just any bra - my bra.
It’s not as bad as it sounds. I didn’t willingly give him it, nor did I give him permission to start flaunting it to the party. But, as it appears, Steve Harrington does what Steve Harrington wants, and if that includes stealing the bra that I was dared to take off (by a particularly idiotic friend of his) and then run away with it, then that’s what he would do.
It’s just what he planned on doing with it that worried me.
I had no time to glance around to see if the other people noticed what he held, but judging by the way that no one was really dancing anymore and more just grinding into empty space, I’d hopefully say they weren’t sober enough.
He approached the sliding glass door, and it took swift work to click the latch and then hurl himself outside into the garden. By then, I was already catching up to him.
It was just as I stumbled onto the open grass and felt the cold night air bite my skin that he reached the edge of the pool. A few intoxicated guests lurked around the edge, one couple making out, another seemingly arguing. I slowed to a halt as I watched him still, checking his options.
He slowly turned to face me, wide eyed but still smiling like an idiot.
His arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve caught me, Y/L/N.”
I shook my head and breathed out, “Give it back, or I swear to god I’ll push you in.”
His one hand extended, the bra dangling from a finger. Pink, lacy, bright. Even more so with the pool’s light reflecting against it in ripples. I stared in horror as he swayed it back and fourth, the corner of his lip creeping higher.
“Come and get it then.”
I took a step forward. He didn’t falter in his shit-eating grin. I advanced two more, and his grin only grew.
I waited to see if this was supposed to be a clever trick of his. When he didn’t move, I raced towards his figure and held out my arm. I didn’t see his eyes widen in surprise, I didn’t expect him to stay where he stood. We collided.
Then came the splash.
Hot water enveloped me, and I felt a pair of arms grabbing me as the world tilted and gave way to bubbling liquid. Whether it was supposed to be an instinct to protect me, or just a way of taking me down with him as we toppled into the pool’s hot tub, I had no way of telling.
It felt like time suddenly slowed as we fell down, down, deeper than possible. All sound blurred, then arms released my waist to swim to the seemingly miles-away surface.
Just as I gathered a sense of which way was up, hands grabbed my waist again and pulled me upwards. The sound of laughter and voices instantly filled my ears as water cascaded down my head, and I arises with a gasp.
My hands came to push the hair from my face, furiously burying aside the wet strands before I could even open my eyes. When I did, Steve was mere moments from my face, catching his own breath and shaking his own hair out of the way.
I managed to splutter out, “You fucking imbecile.”
His head whipped to look at me. His brows furrowed. “You can’t be serious.”
I laughed, pushing him further away. “If you’d only just given me it back when I asked - who asked you to run away with it? No - who asked you to jump into the pool with it? Who as - ” I trialed off, suddenly too aware of the people gathering around the two fully clothed, bickering teenagers in the pool.
And then I noticed the pink object floating metres away from us.
Steve’s eyes followed mine, and I knew that he would’ve laughed if he hadn’t felt the anger radiating from me. He grabbed it while my eyes narrowed, and awkwardly chuckled as he hid it behind his back. My cheeks burned as he waved towards the people stood around the pool, “Alright, nothing to see here. You can all get back to whatever you were doing.”
If he was anyone else, they would’ve ignored him. But for the first time in my life, I felt grateful that it was Steve Harrington who stood beside me, for everyone gradually dispersed away and obliged to his orders.
I turned back to look at him and his somewhat guilty expression.
I looked at our wet hair, the water dripping from his down onto his face. I looked at the way our clothes were stuck to our bodies and utterly soaked. The shoes I would probably have to throw away tomorrow. Then I saw his hand relaxed at his side, the bright, blushing colour floating just underneath the water, and I couldn’t help it; the corners of my lips inclined upwards.
His eyes caught it, carefully observing my expression. He let himself break into a small smile, to which I breathed out a disbelieving laugh at our situation. Steve naturally started chuckling, and in seconds the both of us were laughing like idiots, sopping wet and perhaps the only two sober kids who were making this much commotion.
I suddenly realised the opportunity I had, and took the advantage to leap forwards, towards him. Of course, he dodged my advances perfectly and stretched his arm away, my garments now out of reach. I couldn’t help laughing as I tried to grapple him for it, as the water slowed our movements and turned both of us sluggish.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Harrington.” I sighed, giving up the chase.
He shrugged. “I can live with that.” I rolled my eyes, and noticed a red start to subtly bloom his cheeks.
I didn’t notice when it had happened, but we’d put less than a few inches between us.
Our eyes locked for song of heartbeats. His eyes flickered between both of mine, the remnants of boyish laughter glinting behind them, even as they started to soften. I pulled my gaze away - it wouldn’t do to feel the way I felt at his attention. Not when he looked at hundreds of other girls like that.
A film of steam was now shadowing the garden, cloaking the both of us in a white mist. The air suddenly seemed thicker, the cool night all the while warmer. The pool rippled at any movement, the low, bubbling sound of the jets filling the empty silence and the thin space in between.
Steve noticed my attempt at putting distance between us, and cleared his throat. Instead of getting out of the pool, he backed away until he sat on the opposite end of it. His head slowly tilted backwards in a lazy manner. I watched as he brought two hands to run through his hair, pushing it out of his face. The water trickled as he moved, and I felt the temperature of my face rise as my eyes automatically drifted to his exposed jaw.
The cold tiles against my back contrasted with the warmth of the water, of my face.
It was rare for us to be alone.
Through mutual friends, we’d always been around other people together. I couldn’t really tell you much about him except that he was a pain-in-my-ass. Unfortunately, I was becoming aware of just how hot this pain-in-my-ass was.
His voice interrupted my thoughts, forcing my eyes upwards and away from those dangerous contours of his face. “It’s a shame our game was cancelled so early.”
I nodded, not sure how else to approach a conversation with him. I knew how to annoy him, and I knew how to insult him - but conversing with the Steve Harrington? About as foreign as the games my brother played with his friends.
“We could always continue it.”
His lips slowly twisted into a smirk. “How?”
Blue light echoed across his face from the pool, making his expression so much richer. The thick and heavy must made his voice sound deeper. His eyes shadowed in the bright voice of a dare.
Did it really matter that I was just another girl to him?
“I dare you to give me back my bra.”
He rolled his eyes, “That’s boring.”
I crossed my arms and scoffed. “Come up with something more interesting then.” I tilted my head, “Go on, entertain me.”
Steve paused for a moment, and I sensed the contemplation behind his thoughts. Then, he started to make his way towards me. Slowly and smoothly, that glint still behind his expression. I unfolded my arms and thought to press myself against the tiled edge of the tub, to put distance between us and those damn eyes.
He reached me, and looked down through wet lashes. The oxygen suddenly depleted, and my confidence melted like ice as he lowered his head, breaths away from my face. He flashed his teeth, and slowly brought his lips next to my ear. I could sense the warmth radiating from his body.
“I dare you…” his voice was low, reverberating through me like the bubbles of the jets. A hand crept up my arm, the other wandering in dangerous territory near my thigh, movements planned with the expertise that perhaps only he possessed. Hot air whispered against my ear as he continued, “I dare you to let me kiss you.”
Steve raised his head in an achingly slow manner, then hovered just in front of my face. I could feel every exhale before my lips, could see every wisp of steam that separated us from one another.
I looked up into his eyes and let mine grow wide. His dangerous proximity made the water feel cold against my blushing, burning skin. I allowed myself to flicker my focus down to his lips. To imagine the feel if they actually touched mine. To imagine if I could taste sweet temptation.
I found myself leaning forwards.
Heat grew stronger, his very presence pulling me closer to forbidden fruit. I lingered just above his lips, and softly breathed out in subtle need. I let the precious air be stolen from one another as we tried to maintain the last stretch of space between our bodies.
I lowered my voice when I spoke, allowing the words to brush his skin, feeling a shiver wrack through his body as I did. “I didn’t get a choice. I pick truth.”
I pulled away, the willpower needed for it weighing down on my chest, as if my own body was betraying my desires. Steve looked almost caught off guard at first, then breathed out a laugh in disbelief. “Fine.” His fingers drifted further up my arm, lingering for a few moments before firmly grabbing my chin and tilting my face upwards to make me focus on him, and solely him. “Can I keep this pretty bra of yours, sweetheart?”
I grinned up at him and nodded. Then, with a newfound sense of desire, I grabbed his wrist of the hand that cupped my chin, feeling his soft, hot skin beneath my fingers, and spoke in barely a whisper, “You can have the matching underwear, too.”
When I pulled back, he was smirking with that familiar confident charm. “You’re going to be the death of me, Y/L/N.”
I shrugged, a mockery of a smile tainting my face. “I can live with that.”
✎ DIALOGUES — send me a character, along with an au or scenario, and I’ll write a few dialogues about it. (e.g. dad!Draco greeting his family, or Steve telling he loves you for the first time)
ok i usually never do these because i suck at coming up with prompts but... a boring one: eddie teaching you how to play guitar but you just can't play it?
Eddie teaching you how to play guitar, but you just can’t play it
“You just place that finger on this string, and that one on here.” Eddie adjusts your fingers on the neck of the guitar to have a better grip. He’s trying to teach you how to play the guitar, but it looks much easier than what it is.
“No, not like that.” He says and tries to adjust your fingers one more time.
“It’s not that easy.” You complain, trying to understand what you’re supposed to do. “I know baby, but you're doing good.”
You try to keep the position of your fingers. Not daring to accidentally move them again after Eddie has adjusted them so many times by now.
“Try now to play.” Eddie pleasantly says. You start to stroke the strings on the guitar, but the sound that comes out sounds horrible. Nothing like what Eddie usually makes out of his guitar.
You look at him and you can see he’s holding in his laughter. He’s doing a good job, holding it in, but soon he turns into laughter.
“This is going so bad.” You chuckles. “No, no, you’re doing great, baby.” Eddie says between laughter.
“You only say that because I’m your girlfriend.”
“No, maybe it’s just that you don’t have a natural talent for playing guitar, but at least you have a natural talent for making me fall deeply in love with you.”
𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Y/n helps Eddie to change his future, helping him become a Superstar
A/N: bullyism. Based on Freaks by Surf Curse
“Eddie, you should really stop listening to what people say about you” Y/n’s tone was serious but also kind of sad. She was looking once again at her boyfriend as he cried his heart out to her. Eddie seemed to have this thick layer of arrogance and self love around him, but really he was just a sensitive guy. And he was also different, different from everybody else. Even though Y/n felt that this was the most wonderful thing about him, even though she loved all of his weirdness, his style, his interests, she knew that nearly no one else actually understood him. He was different and being different in a little town like Hawkins wasn’t the best. No, it was the worst. And Y/n was learning that more and more, every time Eddie came to her with things stuck in his hair, or every time he had been beaten up, every time he had came to her with teary eyes. And in those moments, Y/n felt equally bad as Eddie, but only because she knew there was nothing she could do to change what was happening to him.
So that day, they took it slow. Y/n washed his hair, this time so sticky because of a milkshake, caressing him slowly as she did so. She then took him into her arms and told him once again how much they, those idiots, were wrong.
“Eddie you need to listen to me. They really don’t know what they’re up against”
“Oh come on, Y/n, you always say so, but it’s not true” he sighed
“Why not? “ you asked seriously
“Why not? I mean, three times a senior? Sells weed in order to not live under a bridge? Doesn’t have plans for the future? Known as the freak of the town? …Should I go on? I don’t even know why you’re still standing here”
He was really broken up this time, y/n noticed.
But then she thought about it, her tongue sticking out like when she was thinking hard, and Eddie noticed.
“I’m sorry love, but there’s nothing you can do” he cupped her face gently and kissed her softly.
But she didn’t dive in in for that kiss, no, she tilted her head back looking at him.
She had an idea, Eddie thought. And he was right. He was so right. And he didn’t know it yet, but Y/n would actually change everything for Eddie.
They spent a lot of time in Eddie’s bedroom. At a point where most of their friends were worried. But it wasn’t because they were making love, no, nothing of that sort. No. Well, maybe. Also. But no. They were making music. Repeating chords, words, until they got so confused they cried, or until they began to laugh hysterically. But then, one day, they came out of that bedroom and, even if they didn’t know it yet, they had changed their futures, their fate.
Y/n had in fact realised that nothing would’ve come from answering all that anger that came from Eddie’s bullies, so she had helped Eddie to embrace it, to rather make that negativity turn into something beautiful and positive.
And that was what the song was about.
The song that made Eddie and his band, Corroded Coffin, famous.
Flash forward to a few years later:
Eddie was touring yet again, his girlfriend Y/n by his side. They hadn’t seen each-other in a few weeks, as she had went back to Hawkins to spend time with her family.
They kissed each other as Eddie went backstage and Y/n to stand with the crowd outside to see the concert. Eddie was over the moon, he had missed seeing Y/n in the crowd, he had missed her so much.
So Eddie sang and sang, especially for his baby girl.
And Y/n was mesmerised by his playing, by his beauty, once again. She felt happy, seeing as Eddie had turned his life around. Everything had truly changed for him: people had finally started seeing him for the beautiful person he was, and had embraced his personality and appearance rather than judging him for it. Heck, even some of those who had bullied him all through high school now cheered for him at his concerts. That’s how you take revenge, she thought to herself. And she was glad, she was so glad she could be with him to see it all happen, in love just like all those years ago. Y/n had know from the first moment that Eddie was her soulmate, and she was grateful for it. What she didn’t know was that Eddie was thinking the same thing as he sang, until an idea popped up into his mind.
He stopped the concert, abruptly.
He took the mike in his hands, butterflies flying in his stomach as he said
“I’m sorry guys to interrupt, but I actually want to sing you another song” the crowd cheering him on
“I think many of you might remember it, but I have a little surprise for you, especially one of you… so let’s go!” The crowd echoed and screamed at him, as the song started playing
“Don’t kill me
Just help me run away from everyone
I need a place to stay
Where I can cover up my face
Don’t cry
I am just a Freak!”
Y/n screamed along with everybody else. Their song, the song they had written together all those years ago. She marvelled as she watched the energy people around her had for the song itself. And she smiled. Eddie had truly made it.
“I am just a Freak!”
And everyone repeated it.
“My head is filled with parasites
Black holes cover up my eyes…”
Y/n remembered with a pang to her heart how Eddie had used this words to describe how he felt about himself, and how she had held him in her arms for so long, crying as well.
But then the words changed, and Y/n remained speechless, listening hard. Eddie had changed the lyrics.
“I dream of you almost every night
Hopefully I won’t wake up this time
I won’t wake up this time!”
Eddie had changed the words, and now the song that talked about rejection, about bullying, about friendships, was also a song about love.
“Y/n. If you’re out there, just know that I love you. You are my happiness, my home. Without you I wouldn’t even be here in the first place”
Every single soul in that arena screamed and cheered so hard. And she didn’t realise as she ran towards the stairs, passing security and the gates. Up she went, up there to be with him. And she kissed him fiercely, forgetting about the audience standing there all around them. The only thing that mattered was Eddie, was their love. They had made it, against all odds. Against dick heads who had hated them. Against strange things from the underworld and death. Against life itself.
“Let’s spend the rest of our lives together”
Y/n told him slowly, clearly.
And he looked at her in such a way, with such intensity… as he said
“I can’t see why not”.
my brain is rotting thinking about jason todd and marking
cw: marking, biting, scratching, possessiveness, implied sexual content so minors dni !
wc: 405
a/n: i am so in love with this man its not healthy.
for the most part, jason todd enjoys the powers that he got from his dunk in the lazarus pits. increased strength, increased speed, and increased stamina- things like that made it easy for him to do jobs and hunts. one thing he hated, however, was his healing factor.
he hates how fucking fast your scratches and hickies disappeared off his body, leaving him a blank and loveless canvas once again.
he always craves your marks on his skin. he absolutely adores the scattered love bites and dark bruises decorating his frame. he can often be seen in the bathroom, body twisted in the mirror as he admires the deep red strokes that paint his back, or leaning in close to lovingly rub at the carmine blotches that stain the skin of his neck.
he makes it a habit to show off your markings, often refusing to sport a shirt wherever he’s out and about. his marked skin makes his friends’ eyes roll, makes his brothers give him jokingly disgusted expressions, and makes strangers on the streets grimace at him.
he doesn’t care. he’s shameless, especially when it comes to you.
he always just wants to show you off, to express how fucking grateful he is to be yours.
that’s why he always encourages you to sink your teeth in harder, to rake your nails down his back harsher, anything to make those little symbols of your love for him last longer.
in return, he’ll slam his cock into you faster, grip onto the soft of your hips harder, bite and mark you up himself. he paints your body like van gogh, because to him you’re definitely as precious as the most exquisite work of art in the world.
he’ll never get enough of feeling how your skin gives way to his sharp canines, or how your shaking body feels under his calloused fingertips.
it’s the thought of losing you, of ever having to let you go that makes him fuck you rougher- that makes him hide his face in the crook of your neck and dent your skin with his teeth.
he relishes the sight of you the next morning: spread out on the bed with telltale signs of lovemaking covering every inch of your flesh.
he can feel his heart beating out his chest, feel his blood thrumming furiously under your veins because you’re so wholly and undoubtedly his.
summary — thomas asks you on a date, and it’s a peculiar one, but one that he knew would make you smile the brightest.
warnings — fem!reader, fluff, some kissy at the end, horse talk ( not a warning per se but i go crazy with the horse stuff so forgive me haha )
YOU NEVER KNEW THAT THOMAS SHELBY HAD A SOFT SIDE. you always assumed that he was solid as stone, unmoving and unwavering. that was until he asked you on a date. not just any date either.
“i heard you ride horses,” thomas lit a cigarette and gently placed it between his lips, leaning against the bar of the garrison. it wasn’t very full, only the two of you and a couple of others.
“it’s been a while,” you took a sip of your whiskey.
“why don’t you join me for a ride, then?” thomas offered one of those rare, yet alluring, smiles.
“a ride? when?” to say you were thrilled would be an understatement. due to your work schedule and the amount of money you held, you hadn’t ridden in a couple years. you didn’t have the money for your own horse, and even if you did, you wouldn’t have the time.
“this afternoon. at arrow house.” he answered, pushing himself off of the bar. he knew of your secret desire to ride again, ada being the snitch in this scenario. so, since he’d been harboring feelings for you for quite some time, he believed it to be the perfect date.
you nodded your head and he snuffed out his cigarette, brushing past you. as he walked out of the garrison, his stomach twisted itself into a knot. his palms were sweaty, but he made no effort to wipe them off. thomas shelby couldn’t be seen as a nervous man, especially if those feelings were bred by a woman.
—
later that afternoon, having arrived at arrow house, thomas shelby met you out front. he held the proudest grin, and you’d go as far to say it was boyish.
“afternoon, thomas,” you couldn’t contain your excitement as you walked over to him, an over exaggerated sway in your hips. you’ve not ridden in a long time, and to say you were eager to get back on was an understatement.
for a while, you’d admit it was nice. you focused on earning money and working so you’d be able to afford a horse of your own, and in the process, you’d failed to feed that part of you that wanted to ride again, to feel the wind combing through your hair as you galloped along the plains. you missed the feeling of the horse underneath you, your breaths and heartbeats in sync; it was a magical feeling.
thomas simply offered his hand to you, which you took. his hands were softer than you’d imagined, though the callousness of his fingers aligned with what you pictured.
he led you down to the stables, feeling the excitement radiating from you. he knew you were hiding it, though he wasn’t sure why. the little boy in him was just as excited as you were, and given the state of the world, going for a ride seemed like the perfect cure.
“now, this one here’s mine,” he introduced you to a large friesian, his coat that of coal and his eyes of honey. the stallion gave off a confident aura, but his nature was also calming and forgiving. you slowly offered your hand to the stallion, feeling the bristles of his muzzle tickle your skin. his tongue lapped across your hand, signaling to you he liked you.
thomas watched the interaction, seeing the smile he loved so much spread across your features. his horse seemed to like you, and thomas agreed. your gentle nature soothed the burning fire within thomas, and he was sure you had that same effect on others as well.
“and you’ll be riding this beauty,” thomas pointed over to a grey, your reaction copying that of the friesian. the grey was beautiful too, but you noticed the childish nature of the horse. he was unsure about you, but his ears showed you he was listening and he was intrigued. his eyes were wide with curiosity, and his nostrils flared as he tried to grab every scent of you as he could. he was younger, but not dumber.
thomas saw how you interacted with both of his horses. he didn’t know you knew this much about them, he just knew you could ride. as he watched you, he realized why he fell in love with you. your nature was to heal and to comfort, and his was to destroy and to insight fear. he himself was afraid, and your presence countered that.
“they’re both beautiful,” you finally spoke, turning your eyes to thomas’. for a moment you saw the vulnerability of him, but he quickly built it back up when he brought brushes and tack out.
—
the weather was perfect for a ride. you rode alongside thomas, aboard the beautiful grey horse who’s name you never learned. you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face as you felt your hips rock with the horse’s movements.
“thank you,” you spoke up. thomas turned towards you, his face twisted with confusion.
“for what?”
“for bringing me out here,” you smiled. your heart raced as you met eyes, feeling your heart melt and skip a few beats as thomas’ eyes softened. your heart yearned for him, even with all of the bad things he’d done.
your attention was diverted to your horse, who’d begun prancing with anticipation; you knew exactly what he wanted.
thomas watched as a wicked smile blossomed it’s way onto your face. he knew what you were going to do, and it was confirmed when you asked your horse for a gallop and raced ahead. he smiled as he asked his horse into a gallop following after you.
he’s never felt this free in his life. he’s always loved horses, connected with them in a way, but he’s not galloped like this in a long time. he’s not done it with someone he loves in a long time. here he was, racing alongside of you, the woman he’d fallen in love with. he felt like a little boy again.
after a few moments, you slowed down to a walk, panting. thomas slowed down next to you, the same exhausted look on his face, and yet he still glowed. you looked over at him, feeling your face heat up from the eye contact. you were hoping it was covered up by the way your face was red from the gallop.
you walked back to the house in a comfortable silence, enjoying the presence of each other. for thomas, it was odd for a second or two. he wasn’t used to feeling comfortable around someone but when it came to you, he’s never felt safer.
when you reached the barn, thomas hopped off and put his horse back into his stall. he then helped you off, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he helped you slide off of the grey’s back. thomas held you there, facing him now, his eyes scanning your face. he brought up a hand to brush away a stray piece of hair, his fingers brushing against your cheek.
“i think i’ve fallen in love with you,” you hummed softly. you surprised yourself with your words, but you didn’t regret them.
“oh i know i’ve fallen in love with you,” he responded. he leaned his face closer to yours, his breath tickling your face. you closed the gap between the two of you, pulling him into a kiss filled with passion. all of the words you wanted to say to each other were spoken in that kiss. your arms found their way around thomas’ neck, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. when you finally pulled away, out of breath, you rested your forehead on his.
“we should do this again,” you smiled.
“what, the ride or this?” he swooped in for another kiss, not seeming to have gotten enough of you.
“both,” you affirmed in between kisses. he hummed against your lips in agreement, continuing to show you how much he loved you rather than tell you.
ahahahahaha yes i loved this because i finally got to write out my horse girl dreams. anyways, hope you enjoy!
SUMMARY: Eddie bids you goodbye with the company of his thoughts as you cradle him to a wakeless sleep. Told from Eddie’s point of view.
REMINDER(S): major character death. first person.
A/N: omg ok i’m sorry i’m just trying something really different !2!;₱₱4! ANW yay eddie
stranger things masterlist.
I’m sorry for a lot of things, really.
But mostly, I’m sorry for not being sorry earlier than now. I think I can see you a bit. Your stupid ass is running towards me and Dustin is in shambles. Which I get. I’m quite worth the tears, don’t you think? Bad time to goof around.
I like to think that as you fall down to your knees right beside Dustin, that we’re only roleplaying or something. You know, playing some other campaign game I refused to postpone for any longer. I’m no hero, [Y/N], but I’m glad I tried my best to keep you from being a martyr.
“Eddie,” you started, and I knew your throat was closing in on you the way it would like the time I let you take anything from my fridge only to get something you were allergic to. It happened one too many times, man. It was kind of on you. I want to tell you that, but they didn’t say that dying would keep you from talking to someone you love. “Eddie, you are not going to die. Stop that.”
Dustin inched away to let us have some . . . you know, our last little alone time. If you dig that. You flinched at my coughing. Fair enough, I’d have flinched too.
“How do I look?” I asked you. I want to look at you, really. The sky just looks less horrible now that the bats have left.
You laughed a bit, but I know better than to think you found it an ounce helpful. I’m sorry. For a lot of things. “Sh, save your strength, Eddie. We’ll get you out of here.” And you pulled me into your chest. Just why didn’t we do this more? You’re so comfortable. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind sleeping a hundred sleeps right here.
Yeah, that doesn’t make sense, I know. But neither does leaving you here. Or you seeing me leave myself. I’m so sorry. So, so, so, sorry.
“You — you didn’t answer the question,” I managed to say.
“You look heroic, brave. Like the knight in shining armor I’ve always dreamed about.”
I felt you wipe away the blood stains on my cheek with your shirt. I like it down here, actually. I can kind of hear your heart beating. It’s loud. Like, really loud. That’s good. Keep it beating.
“[Y/N], I lo—”
“I know, me too,” you choked out. “Me too.”
“Okay.”
There are a lot more things I want to say but naturally, when you’re dying, you can’t really just let out a long monologue. You can’t really plan ahead, either.
Sure, maybe if I were some rich boring old man on my deathbed, maybe I can. I like this better, though. Dustin’s here, you’re here.
I got to see you one last time. Which isn’t such a bad deal. I’m resting against you right now. Don’t feel so bad about letting me down and coming back home. You have some unfinished business.
Do some heroic deeds. Just don’t die, alright? Don’t be such a copycat. Just because I did, doesn’t mean you should, too. Trends are stupid. I love you.
Farewell, says the hero, your knight in a blood and sweat drenched shirt. The martyr bids you goodbye.
HOW DARE YOU DESTROY ME LIKE THIS?!?! I COME BACK TO READ SOMETHING AND THIS MASTERPIECE IS WHAT I FIND???
i haven't even finished stranger things and yet i'm over here sobbing, that's your fault ves😭😭😭
this truly felt like eddie, i don't know how to explain it. i loved it and hated it because now i'm sad but happy :') which doesn't make sense but that's exactly it, OH MY IT WAS SO GOOD
It had been six weeks since the alley incident. Six weeks since Jason returned to your world. He had reappeared in your memory where you were still lost from his. Your encounter had essentially ruined most of Jason’s progress. More than just a few steps back.
He lost his older brother: Dick declined Jason’s calls, he refused to join the rest of the family in stakeouts or takedowns, and he has not been seen at Wayne Manor since.
Jason wasn’t positive Dick was avoiding him specifically until the devil spawn approached him after a night on patrol. Damian said Dick wanted space, but Jason didn’t think he had meant the whole damn galaxy. He just wanted answers. He wanted to speak to someone that could provide information, but he refused to speak to you.
You had flooded his thoughts after that fateful night. His dreams were filled with the photos from his phone, now turned to moving pictures- they felt like out of body experiences, Jason now watching you and circus boy in his place. A third wheel, unwanted and forgotten. Is that how you had felt?
Maybe this was for the best. After all, Jason seemed to remember everything else. Or so he thought.
The Red Hood scoffed to himself as you bought your third coffee for the day. You were a creature of habit, and that made the vigilante’s job easier.
Jason frowned looking down at the manilla envelope and its contents spread around him, jotting down a few notes. Looking back down to your figure in the local coffee shop, Jason shivered. The rooftop was beginning to get uncomfortable and the weather was starting to grow too cold for surveillance.
The Red Hood had been following you for weeks at this point. He had your name in a folder with all personal identifying information to be found. Oddly weird things about you that no normal human would ever be able to know- including what looks to be the exact coffee order you preferred. The Bat could be useful sometimes, he did have to admit.
From the coffee shop, you walked several store fronts north until reaching the corner store. You reached into your pocket to pull free a set of keys. Unlocking the door, you disappeared from his line of sight. You’d be in this building for the next several hours. Jason sat back on his heels.
The building across the street from your floral shop was perfect cover for recon: Hood could watch your daily routine without disturbance. It’s also a short distance to your apartment a couple blocks west. You could have possibly been the easiest target the Red Hood has ever had on his list.
Jason gathered his items and notes, twisted around, and begun to jump building to building to return to his own apartment.
Summary: After a mistaken identity on patrol, Jason doesn’t want to leave YN alone in Gotham
Pairing: Jason Todd x reader
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: language, innuendos, implication of assault and violence
Jason frowned as he watched YN pull a tank top over her head.
It had been a long night of crime, one where it seemed the city never slept. He and Dick had been halfway across the city when Tim called for backup. Dick lost rock, paper, scissors and left Red Hood alone on the rooftops.
From there, Jason had watched the blinking city lights. Traffic had all but disappeared at 3:07 AM.
It was how he heard the screams.
Following the sound to an alleyway, he found a not too unusual sight of a man pressing a woman to the brick wall. With her sobbing and scratching at him.
It had made his veins light up with a righteous fire that had been coursing through him since childhood.
But then a different, unusual feeling mixed with the anger.
Nausea.
Jason nearly lost his stomach when he caught a glimpse of hair that looked like Yn’s. He almost puked when the other features almost matched.
But they didn’t.
He nearly beat the man to death before he realized he still had an audience.
The young woman still had herself glued to the brick, her chest heaving. Eyes wide open. Tears stained her cheeks.
Pain shot through Jason’s heart at how easily the two women could have been confused for the other. It made him uneasy.
But after he managed to calm the woman, she surprised him by spitting on the unconscious offender and stepping on his chest to walk over him.
Jason called it in, asking if she wanted him to stay while the cops arrived. She declined and just told him she wanted to go home. He offered to walk her home but the woman denied, informing him that her apartment was only two more blocks and it was well lit.
He still sent her on her way with a knife.
When he had gotten home, still shaken by his mistake, he had stripped his gear and taken a shower. Then he knelt down by the bed, on YN’s side.
She had been fast asleep, those adorable little snores was the only noise in the quiet bedroom. Her face was smushed against the pillow, arms curled underneath it. He knew that the moment he lifted the blankets to get into bed, YN would shift over and curl around him.
Her warmth seeping over into his chilled bones.
But for now….
Jason just wanted to look at her.
If she had woken in that moment, he surely could not have explained what he was doing without wanting to fling himself off the roof.
So now, as his eyes peeked open, squinting at the invading sunlight, Jason watched his girlfriend get ready for her morning run.
As usual, she would change her outfit first; Something breathable, but modest, as it was still Gotham. Usually a tank top and sports bra with leggings and her running shoes.
Jason shuffled his way out of the sheets, sleep clinging to his aching muscles. Begging his eyes to slip closed again. He ignored it.
Sidling up behind YN, Jason pressed a soft kiss to her neck. His lips brushing further along her bare shoulder. Thick arms wrapping around her midsection to hold her close.
“Good morning, sunshine.” YN mumbled, her head turned so that she could see his face. Even though he’d buried it into the crook of her shoulder.
Her hand raised up to his head, her fingertips combing through the messy, tangled strands. She admired the white streak, diluted by the predominant black.
His roots were peaking through— he would soon be back in their bathroom with a box of hair dye, his white streak pinned in front of his eyes. Whining for her to help get the back of his head.
And she would do so without complaint.
Jason finally pulled away from her, heaving a dramatic sigh as he sorted through the pile of laundry on the corner chair.
YN’s brows furrowed, her head tilted as she watched her boyfriend’s ass in his black boxer briefs. Then her eyes raked up, over his toned shoulders and ridiculous arms.
He pulled tugged a tank top over his head, yanked a pair of basketball shorts up onto his hips and began his search for socks.
“What are you doing?” Her voice was bland, but Jason knew she meant nothing by it.
“I’m going with you.” He responded, nearly losing his balance as he pulled his sock on.
YN propped her weight on one leg, her hip popped out. She let out a ‘hmph’ through her nose as her fingers worked with the band of her watch.
Jason put both feet on the ground, his hands on his hips. Body language practically asking ‘what?’ in response to her noise.
“You kinda hate running.” She pointed out.
“I’ve never said that.”
“Yeah, actually. You have.”
Jason huffed, his lips pursed. Damn, she had caught him there. He had mentioned that. He needed to learn how to keep his big mouth shut.
Another weak point— find a different advantage.
“Maybe I just want to spend time with you then. Got a problem with that?” He demanded playfully,
“Okay, fine.” She relented, scooping up her shoes. Jason scrambled to snag his own running shoes before trailing after her. “No whining on mile six, then.”
Jason nearly dropped to the floor and sobbed.
“Six?” He clarified.
YN laughed, leaving her shoes on the barstool as she reached up to the cabinets. If he was freaked about the six, she wouldn’t dare mention the grand total of eight miles.
“Come on, big baby.” She teased.
Jason slouched closer to her, observing as she scooped protein powder.
Was he beginning to regret his paranoia? Yes. Would he tell her any part of that? No.
YN would fully understand his night from hell, as well as the paranoia. But he didn’t want to freak her out. Because he was freaked out and it didn’t even happen to him. It was a stranger.
Someone’s daughter. Sister. Best friend. Girlfriend.
She was a person.
It could’ve been her.
He didn’t need to tell her over and over to be careful. She had been a woman her entire life— she knew that she always had to be on the lookout. Always prepared. Always on edge.
And she was. Jason had made sure of that.
But something about it…. It was unsettling. Even after a full night of crime, and his whole life fighting against guys like that one last night…
He just needed to be near her today. To prove that she was okay. To ease his mind.
Jason’s eyes focused back into the present where Yn was busy with her smoothie. Working around him while he zoned out— hopefully she assumed he was just still half asleep.
It took five minutes for her to finish— turns out she had been making two smoothies. Jason accepted his gratefully, smacking his lips together after the first sip and then stealing a kiss from her between sips.
It made her giggle.
And that made Jason’s day.
“Time to go, Jay.” YN announced, pulling her shoes on. Jason followed suit, trekking behind her toward the door. Cursing himself for agreeing to at least six miles. Maybe if he passed out on the third she could just leave him on a bench somewhere. “No crying when I whip your ass on this run, either.”
Jason snorted, locking the door as he closed it.
“Okay, then no puppy dog eyes when I’m about to win on X-Box tonight.”
His lungs were going to explode. Right after his diaphragm burst into flames and his stomach shot out of his abdomen.
Jason moaned loudly as he pressed his cheek to the tile floor of their kitchen. He had stripped his shirt off as soon as they had come through the door.
YN stepped over his decaying body. With his eyes closed, he could hear the tap running. When it shut off, he felt a cold fabric drape across the back of his neck.
He nearly whimpered.
Apparently, he did, because YN laughed and sat down right beside him.
“You gonna start going to the gym with me too, then?” She asked.
“Hell no.” He hissed. YN took pity on him; Her hands running along his scarred back, up to his shoulders. Where she pressed her weight into his spine, massaging outwards. “You just tried to murder me.”
“You fight criminals every night, Jay.” She reasoned. Jason could barely speak— he didn’t even want to move.
But this was an argument he wanted to finish.
“I don’t run across Gotham to get to them first!”
“Point proven.” YN pushed herself back up to her feet. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up.”
Jason’s eyes snapped open, his useless, rubbery muscles regaining their purpose. He pushed to his feet and grabbed her hand, tugging her along behind him.
She always knew the right words to say.
“You’re going back to sleep, I suppose?” YN asked.
Jason peered over his shoulder.
She was dressed for work, clipping a necklace around her throat. Staring at him through the mirror.
“Yes, dear.” He answered drowsily, nearly asleep again.
YN crossed the small room, her knees on the bed as she sat down beside him. Her fingertips trailed through his damp hair. Brushing locks away from his face gently.
Jason hummed contentedly, leaning into the soft touch.
“You gonna tell me what’s on that pretty mind of yours?” She murmured.
Jason sighed, snuggling into the sheets deeper.
YN frowned.
It was Red Hood business, then.
He never liked to speak about what his alter ego got up to. Whether it was protection for him or for her, she was never sure.
He always had a tell, though; Whatever advice he gave when she made to leave for work that morning. That was what bothered him the most.
Her logic had yet to fail with his mind.
“Okay, sweet dreams, sunshine.” She whispered, pecking his cheek.
Jason turned his head to capture her in a real kiss, lingering longer than necessary. As always.
“Be safe, okay? I love you.” Jason murmured.
The little crease between her brows deepened slightly but he didn’t give her a chance to respond. He pressed another kiss to her lips and rolled back over.
“Love you too, Jay.”
With that, she climbed down off the bed and made her way out of the apartment.
Jason sighed again, curling up tighter under the sheets.
He refuses to take opiod painkillers no matter how bad he is hurting because he is terrified of getting an addiction like his mother.
To this day, Jason is the only one Alfred allows to help in the kitchen.
He never takes elevators. Self explanatory.
The other Bats have seen and heard him have nightmares before and they always assumed they were all about the Joker or maybe the League until one night when Jason ended up crashing at the Manor, Dick and Tim find him crying from the couch in his sleep and he calls out Bruce's name, begging and pleading until he wakes with a choked scream with a hand pressed tightly to the scar at his throat. They never ask but after that point both Dick and Tim struggle to look at Bruce in the eyes.
Related to that, Jason never told anyone about how Bruce cut his throat with a batarang because he always assumed none of them would believe him, that they'd just accuse him of lying.
Damian once threatened him with a crowbar and Dick had to physically restrain Jason from going after the small child with his knives. Dick had a serious talk with Damian after about not trying to re-traumatised your brothers just because they're retelling embarrassing baby stories your mother told them.
Jason might not be the best technical fighter out of the Batfam but he can play some really fucked up mind games and puts hours into researching and planning. He isn't a detective or an assassin but he is one hell of a tactician. Probably the best out of them all.
Related to that, he also is insanely stubborn. He has grit, sure, but he is also afraid. He isn't afraid of death but he is so fucking scared of the possibility that if he dies again he might come back. In his words "the worse part of about his death was that it wasn't permanent." As such he will go further than most to prevent it from happening again. Even if that means enduring the worst pain imaginable because still to this day the thing that haunts him most, more than the warehouse and crowbar and Joker, was waking up in that coffin and realising no one was coming for him. That he was alone.
He hoarded food when he was first adopted by Bruce. And slept with a chair jammed under the handle of his door.
It took months for Jason to let Bruce or Alfred touch him as a kid. His only male authority figure had been Willis and it had instilled a strong distrust of older men in him.
Him and Stephanie both volunteer at shelters and food banks in their free time. Steph once invited Cass because she wanted her to see that Jason was more than just a killer.
Tim still flinches from him when he gets too close and it breaks Jason's heart a little. He's hurt people but it has always been him in control, his decision. The Pit Madness took that away from him, or at least it twisted his betrayal and hurt into rage and he still hasn't quite figured out how to apologize for that.
usually does it from behind while resting his head on their shoulder
once you got together though he stopped hugging random batfam members since now he can annoy you with it and just hug you whenever he wants
always has his hands on you somehwere
mostly wraps his arms around your waist and rests his head in the crook of your neck
loves being the big spoon and just holding you
gets whiny when he doesn’t get to engulf you in a hug
jason todd
he would never admit it or say it out loud but he loves hugs
it’s an unspoken thing- you never talk about it or bring it up, but you both know that each of you needs it and you just do it silently and softly
he could never get enough of touching you or you touching him and your arms wrapped around each other
he’ll just randomly come up behind you and wrap his arms around your shoulders and under your chin and rest his head on top of yours since he’s so tall
loves it when he’s laying on his back and you’re on top of him with your head in the crook of his neck
he has mommy and daddy issues so he likes getting babied but also babying you
totally the little spoon. but he loves holding onto you as well bc it eases his nerves knowing you’re safe in his arms
tim drake
he’s tired pretty much 24/7 so he likes sloppy hugs
when he’s working at a desk and you walk by, he’ll stop you by your wrist and nuzzle his head into your stomach and put your arms around his neck kinda hiding his face with your arms
same thing when he’s sitting down on the couch or his bed and you just wanna walk by, he’ll pull you towards him and press his head into the side of your stomach and take your arm and put it around his head
sometimes he’ll just completely plop himself on top of you when you’re laying down somewhere and nuzzle his head in the crook of your neck
he also likes it when you do it to him bc he likes feeling a heavy body on top of him, it calms him
he loves laying on his stomach in between your legs and having his head on your lower stomach listening to the weird sounds it makes
damian wayne
would rather die than let anyone know he likes hugs
he’s super whiny when he finally does let you hug him
but not because he doesn’t like it (or pretends he doesn’t) it’s because he doesn’t wanna let go. like ever.
in private he’ll let you hug him whenever you want
in fact, whenever it’s just the two of you, he practically attacks you bc he’s so touch starved
he’ll hug you really suddenly really fast and really hard, and stay like that for a few seconds before he loosens his grip on you a little and lazily keeps holding onto you
after a while he’ll just start not to care and hug you whenever he wants even if ppl are around. if one of his brothers makes a stupid comment though trust they will be dealt with
