“i was barely holding myself back, it's your fault for tempting me.”
pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader
summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother.
a/n hiii!! wooo so excited for this honestly aahhh i hope you guys give it a chance i have so much plans for it ahaha!! taglist is currently closed for this series!! sorry!!!
jay todd is co-captain of the gotham knights semi-pro women's hockey team. you're her best friend. she's in love with you. (female!jason todd x fem!reader)
hockey femjay tag for all my thoughts/asks about jay
full chapters/blurbs:
you're at jay's game when she gets a bloody nose
you try to encourage jay to find women at a bar
(jay's pov) jay asks her teammates for advice on her crush on you
you're jay's plus-one to a hockey charity event
jay gets injured
you take jay home from the hospital and confess your feelings
jay proves she has no problems womanhandling you post-recovery (smut)
sub top jay fingers you after she's been away for weeks (smut)
summary: roy overdosed last night. you’re at the hospital, on your way to see him. what happens when you finally face your biggest fear-with the person you love the most?
cw: hospital mention, drugs, rehab discussion, od mention, past trauma, addiction, not proofread!!
pt. 1 - pt. 2
my masterlist :)
“and you say that it’s not my fault, but I don’t believe you at all”
stepping through the doorway, bright sterile light merely exploding your already pounding head. roys laying on his back, tubes and monitors all around him, beeping. his eyes are closed. you slowly approach his bedside, sitting on the very edge.
you let out a shallow sigh, “oh roy.”
his eyes twitch, fingers gravitating towards yours where they lay on the white bedsheets. eyes opening, roy takes a moment to adjust, swallowing down a few gulps of air before fully focusing on your face. he immediately sees your red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks, his eyes softening.
“don’t look at- at me like that,” you scold him lightly. “you scared me, roy.”
he breathes in and out, reaching out for you-or rather, your hand. you can tell he’s almost back to himself, if you can even say you’d know what that looked like. the soft movement of his thumb rubbing circles into your knuckles seems similar to an “im sorry”. however roy knows saying those words will do little to nothing. he crossed a line. he knows he did.
“baby, I love you,” his gaze is so heavy, focusing in on nothing other than you. “I need you to know that, even though I clearly don’t show that.”
“roy…you could’ve died. I found you half dead on my bathroom floor,” a lone tear slowly makes its way down your cheek. “the bathroom floor, roy.”
he keeps quiet, simply wiping your face, pulling you into his chest, letting you sob into his chest as the full weight of the situation falls on you. he offers small shushes and sweet nothings into your hair, breathing you in like he has so many times before.
“it’s not your fault, lovie.” he swears. you want to believe him. you really do. but you can’t, at all. somewhere deep inside you, you feel that there must be something that attracts the sick to you. that brings out the most dangerous actions of those you love.
you two sit in his hospital bed, comforting each other. in the silence of the night, as you both drift off, in his mind, roy vows to make this as right as he can. and he thinks he has a plan.
-waking up in the hospital is an odd feeling. but something strikes you as even more peculiar-roy is no longer under you. at some point, he got up. left. again. those are the only thoughts running through your mind until the door cracks open and roy gently steps in. he has food. and coffee.
“where the hell were you?” you say standing up from your place on the bed. you mean to sound serious, but you sound more fearful than anything.
“the cafeteria, baby,” he replies softly. “and before you ask I already talked to the nurse, she cleared me to get up and walk around.” oh. so he was fully back to him now.
“are they discharging you?” you feel guilt and another heavy weight gather in your chest.
“im free to leave whenever. ‘was just waiting for you to get up m’love.”
“and you feel okay? you promise?” your voice still sounds small, barely above a whisper.
“of course, I promise. also-there’s something I need to tell you.” he reaches out for you, guiding you back towards the bed, “i was talking to one of the doctors, and he recommended this program,” your nerves calm and spike simultaneously. roy had never-ever-brought up rehab.
“its two months long, right outside of gotham. says it would be best for my…’condition’.” his last word comes out as more of a sigh than a word, but he says it nonetheless.
“baby, I think I need to go. I wanna be better for you. for myself. for us.” his words knock the wind out of you.
“okay,” you respond hesitantly. “I think that would be great for you roy.” this is exactly what you want. what you both need. but the thought of roy being alone and hurting without you for two months? that’s not a great side effect. but if this is what it takes to get your roy back? I guess that’s what it’ll take.
“I love you, roy.”
“I love you too, m’love,” he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.
you both hold each other for what feels like an endless amount of time. when you finally pull apart, you both decide to head home, calling jason on the way. you update him on the situation. when you and roy get home, all you have the energy to do is lay together, sucking up as much time together before roy leaves in a few hours, for his new rehab program.
idk if imma write a pt. 3 abt roy after rehab…but maybe like a blurb or smt!! hope you guys like this! luv ya <3 p.s. requests are open!!
summary: reader has past trauma related to drugs, her boyfriend, roy harper, is a drug addict. what happens when roy triggers her, and almost kills himself in the process?
cw: drugs, past trauma, kinda a lil toxic, jason todd cameo :), fostercare system, description of panic attack kinda, and not proof read!…pls lemme know if I missed anything!!
my masterlist :)
“you think that shit you smokes saves you. but it’s won’t between you and me”
smashed glass, late nights, half-lidded eyes. the perfect description of your childhood. that was, until you reached ten years old. the house was too quiet. the usual sounds of the creaky gotham apartment unheard, and no footsteps scattering in the living room. you are so unfamiliar with this type of quiet. so much so that you got out of bed and tiptoed down the hallways looking for your dad. it was a thursday. meant to be good day. turning the corner you saw a sight you’d never quite forget. your dad on the cold bathroom floor. arm bruised from injections. eyes closed. head cocked back at an unnatural angle. you’d been in situations similar to this one many times before. finding him in that same place on the floor. getting him up after a particularly bad day, and cleaning him up before his shift in the morning. but this time was different. you knew this was it. sitting on the floor next to your father, you gently picked up his frail wrist.
“dad?” you whisper into the damp bathroom.
feeling nothing but a faint chill, you let out a quiet sob. that was the moment that changed everything. your father-the one person who had stayed, at least physically, was gone.
18. what an interesting age. on paper, your an adult. but you still feel like that little girl calling 911 on the cold bathroom floor.
for the past 8 years, you’ve been on and off the dark streets of gotham. ditching your first and only foster home at 13, you’d been on your own for years. gotham was…well, gotham. so you had about three options to get clothes on your body and food in your stomach. one: steal, which you tried once, and almost ended up right back in your foster home. two: sleep around for money, which also wouldn’t work because you found that inefficient and couldn’t stomach that scene of interested men. which led you to what you’ve been doing for 4 years; working part time at a diner, and helping out at the women’s shelter down the road, which you’d occupied at least three nights a week two years prior. and to be completely honest? you only made enough money to pay for food and keep the lights on in your shitty, one bed apartment.
you pull yourself up the four flights of cracked stairs to your apartment. reaching into your pocket for your keys, listening to them clink together as you twist your door handle to find it already unlocked. taken back, you slowly and cautiously walk into your small home. a mere two steps in you smell propane from the stove, and something salty. you let out a small sigh.
“yknow you shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, roy,” you try to scold, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. he turns around, face lighting up when he sees you.
“you’re home,” he all but breathes out as he takes in the playful twitch of your lips.
he slowly walks over to you, wrapping you up in his arms, and sticking his head in the crook of your neck. you don’t know how he finds this comforting, as it’s an awful angle considering his greater height.
you met roy at work. it was a night shift, the diner lights flickering, and the thick smell of grease. he was a regular at the diner, and you often chatted with him about little details of your days. you talked your job at the shelter, and he talked about his recent “adventures”.
you knew he was basically a vigilante by the time he’d been coming to the diner for a month. he wasn’t really hiding it, but he didn’t know you knew, or at least, you thought he didn’t. come to find out, you were right.
one night, you were walking home, taking the dark sidewalks. you were held up by some common mugger, trying to get your purse and probably more than anything, scare you. which would have been pretty damn successful, if it weren’t for the tall man dress in an odd red suit with a bow strapped to his back knocking the mugger straight in the face. he went down almost instantly, not making any sound other than a slow, unsteady release of air. the vigilante slowly turned around, revealing his face to be none other than your handsome favorite customer. roy harper.
not too long after that, roy asked you on a date. one thing led to another, and now, almost a year later, that oddly dressed vigilante was standing in your kitchen, breathing deep into your neck.
you knew roy had a problem. and it wasn’t easy to ignore. especially with your past. but you loved him so much, and you didn’t know how to fix this problem of his.
it started small. you’d find pills that roy wasn’t prescribed on the counter. then you’d see small snow filled bags in his pants pockets. roy knew about you’re dad. it was a founding conversation in making your relationship. however, you also knew why roy liked getting high. he didn’t like who he was. didn’t know who he was. had so much trauma from his childhood. so you just let it slip out of your mind. except it never quite did.
you never fought about it. never got angry at him. but the silence scared you. so you had to say something, just to keep yourself off the edge.
“roy, my love,” you whispered one night. he turned over to face you, staring right into your large, anxious eyes.
“what’s wrong?” he worried, reaching over to touch your cheek.
“whatever you do, just stay away from needles. I don’t want you to leave me-” you choked out a quiet sob, leaving your breathing uneven. roy looked a little confused, before realization hit him. he pulled you into his side whispering sweet nothings, calming you slightly.
“I promise I won’t do that to you,” he swore. “you’ll never have to be alone again, baby.”
and that was that. it wasn’t brought up again. until a cold, dingy night when you got home from your shift at the shelter.
you already had a shit day. and the cold air of gotham never helped. opening your front door, you call out for roy. he’d usually get home earlier than you. kicking off your shoes you wonder to your bathroom, ready to get into a hot shower, not thinking much of roys absence.
as you swung the door open, you were immediately thrown back in time. your dad on the floor. lifeless. cold. but this wasn’t your dad. it was roy. your roy, that said he’d never leave you alone, laying motionless on the bathroom floor with a needle halfway in his arm.
you couldn’t breathe. your vision started blacking out a bit. you had to catch yourself on the wall, breath coming in rapid, uneven, waves that left you feeling sick. sobs. loud, guttural, sobs left your mouth. you curled up on the floor, unable to look at the scene laid out in front of you.
that’s where you heard it. a quiet movement. you’d never moved faster, your instinct to help finally taking control. roys eyes slowly blinked open.
“babe…” his voice came out gravely and so different from his normal tone. he saw your face, the look of pure fear. he tried to reach for your cheek like he’d done so many times before, but couldn’t lift his arm.
“stop, don’t move roy,” you whispered, voice a mere squeak. “stay still I’ll call someone.”
you reached into your pocket, hands shaking, dialing 911 and texting the only other person you could think of. then you slowly got up and stumbled to the living room. lowering yourself onto the couch, and completely breaking.
about 20 minutes later, the door was swung open, emts rushing to the bathroom to tend to roy.
gentler this time, the door opened. in came a brick wall of a man. roys best friend, jason todd. he didn’t say anything. he didn’t need to. you had grown close to jason in the year you’d been dating roy, and he kind of became an older brother figure to you.
he just sat down, and wrapped you in a tight hug. shielding you from the chaos that was happening on the other side of your apartment.
jason drives you to the hospital they took roy to. he doesn’t say much. you can tell he’s done something like this before. whether it was with roy you don’t know, but he seems experienced in this.
when you arrive at the hospital, the staff tell you roys room numbers.
“do you want me to come with you?” jason asks stiffly. tears come to your eyes for the third time tonight.
“no. I think I need to talk to him if I can,” you say in a small voice. jason just nods, taking a seat in the waiting room. you take a deep breath, wipe your eyes, and walk towards his room…
“I’m pretty sure that you’re using again, oh you don’t know what that does to me”
okay guyssss how are we feeling?? hope this was good it kinda sounded ass to me but I felt like writing today and I’ve never done that before!! part two will hopefully be up soon!! :) also lemme know if you wanna be tagged in pt 2 <3
guys I’m lowkey bored (have 3 tests to study for but procrastinating)…so! this is my fandoms list which is also all of the characters I write for :) my requests are opennnn
Your phone was ringing on the counter of the bar, and you glared daggers at it. One would think being the daughter of Bruce Wayne meant you could have any man you wanted. Apparently, your brother’s best friend didn’t count.
How many nights had you stayed up thinking of Roy Harper and wishing he was yours? You had always loved yearning in books, inhaling it like a drug. Yet tonight, you drowned every inch of yourself that wanted him in alcohol.
You watched as your phone sprang to life for the fourth time that day, the familiar name of the devastatingly handsome redhead popping onto your screen.
You huffed and picked it up.
“What,” you answered, the alcohol making it hard to conceal your frustration.
He said your name gently, making you want to cry and scream at him. Couldn’t he tell how much you wanted him?
“Tell me where you are—”
“That’d be none’a your business,” your words slurred together.
“Look, Jay’s out on a mission, and he told me to keep an eye on you. You’re slurring your words, you’re not home… just let me come get you.” His voice was strained as he spoke. You briefly wondered what he sounded like in bed.
“M’ perfectly fine,” you mumbled petulantly.
You heard him sigh from the other side of the line.
“Sweetheart, please?” he tried again.
You froze. Curse him for knowing how to get you to listen.
“Fine…” you muttered and rattled off your address. Your face flushed, and you were ashamed that all it took was his soft voice and a pet name to get you to back down.
You hung up on him without saying goodbye and looked longingly at the patrons who were drinking. You silently cursed the bartender for cutting you off.
Your forehead hit the cold bar table, and you groaned, thoughts of Roy swirling around with jealousy and bitter resignation.
After a while, you felt a warm hand on your back.
“So, is the troublemaker still alive? Or did the booze finally win?” You felt his breath against your ear before you heard his words. You bit your lip and willed your body not to react.
“Undetermined. I’ll let you know tomorrow morning," you grumbled, not lifting your head.
He chuckled, and you scowled at the counter. He gently lifted your head so you were looking at him, his hands on either side of your face.
“You had me worried, y’know. If anything happened to you, Jason’d have my head.”
You tensed. Of course. Of fucking course he was only here because Jason told him to look after his little sister.
“I’m a grown-ass woman,” you stated.
“A grown-ass woman, huh? Decided to get plastered in Gotham with no ride home? Real smart, sweetheart.”
You didn’t reply, too emotionally exhausted and tipsy to throw a glare his way. It was like the longer he touched you, the faster your defenses crumbled.
So instead, you focused on the way he held your face in his hands, like they were finally where they belonged. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch while a burning sensation built in your eyes.
“Hey—woah, shit, are you crying?” His eyes widened, and he let go of your face. His hands hovered over you as if he wasn’t sure how to make you stop.
“No,” you sniffed, looking down, feeling the loss of his touch.
“Fuck… okay. I’m takin’ you home, yeah? I’ll make hot chocolate just the way you like it… with extra marshmallows and everything.” He wiped away your tears and then let his hands drop.
You let out a combination of a cry and a laugh. “Is that what you do to get Lian to stop crying?” your voice wobbled.
His lips curved up at the sound of his daughter's name. “Works every time,” he shrugged, eyes soft toward you.
He placed a hand on your waist and ushered you up. “Come on, let’s get you home safe.”
You let him guide you up. You saw his eyes narrow when he noticed what you were wearing.
“Seriously? You left the house in that? It’s fuckin’ 30 degrees outside, you idiot,” he said, exasperated. He took off his jacket and wordlessly put it around you, then led you out where the cold air bit at your skin.
You just pouted at his words and occasionally stumbled. He caught you every time. And if you tripped on purpose to make him put his arm around you, he didn’t call you out… he just fired off some sarcastic remark instead.
When you got to your apartment, he gently helped you down on the couch. He looked around, grabbed a blanket, and put it over you. You watched him silently, admiring his red hair and the way his muscles flexed as he moved around.
“Gonna go make that hot chocolate I promised. Need anything else?”
You shook your head, not trusting yourself to blurt out how much you loved him. Time had done nothing to lessen the effects of the liquor. But you knew deep down that thought was all you.
Your eyes were trained on him the whole time. You couldn’t look away as he made the drink. An overwhelming emotion clawed through your chest.
You felt that in this moment, he was life itself. That even if nothing else made sense, he always would. Just a glance from him made all those years of knowing him from the sidelines worth it.
He came back with a mug in his hand.
“Thank you,” you whispered and took a sip. The warm liquid instantly made you feel better. No wonder this worked on Lian, you thought.
He sat next to you, leaving enough space so you couldn’t feel his warmth, which did the opposite of calming you down. He was looking at you, though, with more tenderness in his expression than you’d ever seen on him.
You placed the mug on the coffee table.
“Why don’t you love me?” you blurted, your voice cracking almost as much as your heart. You were sick and tired of not knowing. You’d deal with the repercussions in the morning.
You watched as his brows furrowed, mouth slightly agape, as if this was the last thing he expected to hear. You went to look away, but before you could, his hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him.
“Don’t… don’t say that. You think I don’t—? God, you have no idea.” He ran his fingers through his hair. You wanted to reach out but instead curled your fingers into his jacket.
Your breath caught at his words. “Roy…?”
He swore under his breath and brought you into his chest, one hand on your back keeping you in place. The other tangled in your soft hair. Your face was pressed against the hard plane of his chest. His heartbeat was unsteady, yet perfectly in sync with your own.
“So fuckin’ loved, y’hear me? That’s what you are,” he muttered against your hair.
You relaxed into him. His warmth seeped into you, chasing away every bitter feeling you’d felt before. You tilted your head up so you could see him. He was looking down at you, pained.
“I’ve watched you, you never look at me—” you started, but he cut you off.
“Nah. I can’t stop lookin’ at you. Even when you’re not around, I still see you, dumbass.”
You stared at him, words stuck in your throat. “Then why…”
He rested his forehead against yours. “Why haven’t I confessed my undying love to you?”
“I can’t fuck it up with you, troublemaker.” His hands went to your waist, then moved down to your hips, bringing you closer.
“You won’t.”
“Yeah? You so sure I won’t?” His lips moved closer to yours.
“Mm-hm, I see you too,” you whispered, and he grinned like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.
“Mind if I kiss you, sweetheart?” he asked, thumb brushing over your pulse point while his hand curled around your neck.
Your eyes met his in a silent plea, and he didn’t waste time bringing you into a kiss. You absentmindedly heard the windows being opened, but you didn’t care. You pulled back for air, and he instantly pulled you back in. His hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve.
A loud thump brought you out of the trance you were in. Roy tensed, and a loud voice tore through the apartment.
“Get your filthy hands off my sister!” You didn’t think you’d ever heard Jason speak so menacingly.
Roy sighed like he already dreaded the hell that was going to go down in the next few days.
“Fuck off, Jay,” you were annoyed he had interrupted the best kiss of your life. You rested your head on Roy’s chest, and he grinned down at you so lovingly that you suddenly didn’t even care Jason was there.
“Wait till I tell Dick—oh, you’re so fucking dead, Harper,” Jason laughed a bit hysterically, pacing around the room.
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Roy caught your gaze.
I love you, he mouthed to you.
You smiled at him, ignoring Jason as he spewed obscenities at Roy. Because in this moment? All you saw was the man you loved looking down at you with the same love reflected back.
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