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I only write for Jason Todd, Gar Logan, and Dick Grayson (DC) at the moment.
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Joy’s notes: my fuckin coworker will not shut up about Taylor Swift and now I love this song and had to write a messy oneshot for it.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x GN! Reader, fluff, messy oneshot, slight angst, you better listen to this song!!! Grrr, titans!verse (WC: 1,410)
It was summertime in Gotham, you wiped the sweat off your forehead as you waited next to the large white building. Bruce Wayne would be making an appearance at the High Society Gala with his sons, Dick and Jason. You were there on duty, your camera hanging heavy on your neck. You watched as the cameras flashed, looking at a long black car that had pulled up to the carpet. You watched as Dick Grayson walked out, dashing in his all black suit. He ruffled his hair, earning a light smack from Bruce Wayne.
Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price, you know that I bought it.
At the gala, you were offering to take photos of various celebrities. You’d spent the first two hours taking pictures of anything and everything. Making your way to the bar, Carrie, the bartender, had giggled upon the sight of you.
“(Y/N)! You’re always working these galas, seriously, can’t The Gotham Times send somebody else for once? They can’t keep working you to death!” She said, already working up a cocktail.
“Oh, come on, Carrie. It’s not so bad! I love taking these photos.” You explained, giving her small smile as you took a sip of the cocktail.
You turned around to put your camera down, bumping into someone’s chest.
“Oh, crap! I’m so sorry.” You looked up to see Dick Grayson himself.
“S’ alright. You’re from The Times?” He asked, his voice smooth.
“Uh, yeah! My name is (Y/N), it’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Grayson.” You said, reaching your hand out.
He took it.
“Just Dick is alright, heh.”
“Well, alright. Just Dick.” You teased.
He stopped you on your way out of the gala, asking for your number. Something about you intrigued the young man, and he just wanted to get to know you.
You’d spent a few weeks texting, each time you tried to meet up, things would get in the way. The Times was having you on more projects than ever, and you needed the money to keep your place in the nice part of the city. Dick was on his Nightwing duties, but he couldn’t tell you that, so he would just say that he worked late shifts at Wayne Enterprise.
Killing me slow, out the window, I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below.
After dating for a few months, Dick finally accepted an invitation to your apartment. It got steamy, a hard, messy make out session against the island in your kitchen. You heard a beep on his phone when he pulled away from you, leaving in a rush. It sent a small pang of pain to your heart, but it had only been a few months, maybe he had important work business?
It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got, it’s a cruel summer.
It’d been a harsh year for your relationship with Dick. You’d made it official, but it was clear that things were rocky as a result of not seeing each other enough. You were staying at a motel together, he told you it had been important that you don’t be in your apartment for a few days. He refused to tell you anything more, and all you could do was follow his lead.
He stood in front of the vending machine, hanging his head low while he paid for a snack to keep you satiated.
“I can’t just be here with you! I have a job, I need to be at my apartment, what if I get called in for a job?” You said.
“Then tell them you’re not going! You just can’t go back, okay? I’ll tell you more when I can but right now, I just can’t. I need you to trust me.” He said, facing you.
The dim, greenish light from the vending machine lit up the side of his face. The sight almost made you soften, but you were too angry to be caught up by his beauty.
Hang your head low, in the glow of the vending machine, I’m not dying. You say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying.
“Well maybe this isn’t working then,” You said quietly. “Because I can’t keep being with you when you run away without any explanation besides Wayne Enterprise, and now you take me away from my own apartment without an explanation. I never pry, and I never push you, but you’ve never opened up to me. You can’t just hold me at arms length forever. I’m done.” You said, wiping your tears away as you sobbed.
Cut the headlights, summer’s a knife, I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone.
You stayed at another motel for a few days upon Dick’s request. Other than that, he made no moves to bother you. He never attempted to make up with you.
It was quiet in Gotham. It’d been a month since you’d seen your favorite, brown haired boy. You’d seen his face on TV, the news talking all about the new projects that Bruce Wayne and his sons were involved in. You looked out the window of your apartment, letting the moonlight shine on your face. You see a figure on top of the building across the street. Nightwing, running across the building and swinging off a rail, his escrima sticks tight on his back. You grab your camera quickly, and open the window to get a shot of him.
A month later, you’re laying on the couch of your apartment, thinking of Dick and all your memories together. Could it have really all meant nothing? As if on cue, your cell phone rings. You pick it up and see a picture of Dick light up the screen. You answer it quickly.
“(Y/N)…hiiii baby. How are youuuu.” He slurred.
“Dick? Are you…drunk?”
“What? No….I just,” He was choking up on tears. “I’m just sorry…I-I. I needed to apologize to youuu…I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Can I come by your apartment?”
“Yes, of course.”
He arrived shortly, stumbling into the room when you opened the door to let him in.
“God, what’s gotten into you?”
“I. I’m Nightwing, (Y/N).”
Your world stopped.
The lights in the bathroom became too bright, the sound of the bulbs struggling to stay on got louder, his alcohol laced breath was too much for you.
“What?” It was all you could muster.
“I’m Nightwing…” He slurred, knocking out on your bed before you could ask anymore questions.
I’m drunk in the back of the car. And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar. Said, I’m fine but it wasn’t true, I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you.
The next morning, Dick woke up, feeling an intense amount of pain rush to his head. Fuck, talk about a bad hangover. He realized he was in your apartment and cursed to himself, getting up to gather his things. You walked in quietly, leaning against the doorframe.
“Leaving so quickly again?” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come here, I’m so fucking sorry for everything, I’m sorry.” He said, running his hands through his head frustratedly.
You walked up to him, a glass of water and a few painkillers in your hands. You let him take it as you spoke.
“You know, if you had just said you were Nightwing, we could’ve avoided a lot of stuff in the past year.” You laughed airily.
“God, I know. I’m sorry. Thank you for taking care of me. I get if you want to be done for good, but I called you last night because I got so drunk to try to forget about you again. I hope you don’t think I’m stupid for telling you that, or anything.” He wasn’t sure how his words were coming out.
“You’re not stupid, and I do want to be with you.”
“Yeah?” He asked, his eyes lighting up.
“Yeah.”
He brought his hands up to cup your face, giving you a sweet kiss. He parted, looking at your features.
“I love you,” He said suddenly, laughing at himself. “Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”
“I love you too. Quite the best actually.”
And I screamed for whatever it’s worth, I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?
Joy’s notes: hellooo this is different from my normal writing and I did have a specific idea in mind for this but I will leave it all up to the reader’s interpretation!! Maybe ill explain it in the future if someone asks about it!! (0.0)
Drabble, no pairing, visuals, WC: 333
The gloomy, gray sky while it’s midday in Gotham doesn’t settle well with Jason. He sits next to the window; the dim, low light of the sun that struggles to peek out from behind the rain clouds spreads onto the skin of his face.
He dares not look up from the blue light that further illuminates his eyes. Fearful that if he did, the droplets that gathered on the glass of his window would taunt him.
Fearful that the angry, chaotic gray sky would coax him out of his chair, coax him into doing something he’d regret.
He ruminates as he types away on his keyboard, unsure of the meaning of the words that he writes. He types like a madman, in desperate attempt to overcome the thoughts in his mind that threaten to collapse on him.
He hopes they do.
He hopes the storm will break the ceiling, and cause it to crumble onto him. Crush him and his thoughts.
He’s tired of the storm.
The sounds of thunder and the sight of lightning making him uneasy. Gotham is quiet, and it is unusual, for the villains stay silent and the coffee shops close early, hostage to the storm and its madness.
He breathes in. He breathes out. The feeling of his chest falling is heavy, all his efforts spent on just breathing. His focus on the rise and fall of his chest.
He dares to look up, the sky now darker, and the rain pouring ever harder.
Melancholy. The only word he could find to describe everything about him and his environment. His desk, the room, the window, the sky, the storm, the trees.
He fears for his life as he pushes on the window latch. Like when Aurora split the skin of her finger on the spinning wheel, mesmerized by its structure, enamored by its appearance. Drawn to it like a beacon, Jason steps out of the window and into the storm.
I just watched the premiere of s4 for titans and MIGHT I SAY IT IS SOOOOO GOOD
Love it way more than any other season so far!! Although that one scene where Rachel was being badass and then all of the sudden said “get fucked” SENT ME
sawry guYs I got busy with streaming and work and didn’t post the scheduled Jason fic :(( I’m currently working on a long Dick Grayson one shot tho and it’s currently at 6k WORDS!!! omg so excited for this
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader, fluff, slightly suggestive, connects to Quicker Than That, Drabble, WC: ~800
A party where all of Gotham’s heroes in costume has got your boyfriend’s head spinning.
“You know, this really isn’t my thing.” Dick said, adjusting the neckline of his suit.
The heroes of Gotham decided to get together in costume for a Halloween party, Gar thought it would be a great idea for everyone to be in their suits and have fun for an evening.
“What, people?” You laughed, adjusting your cowl on your head, your hair making it difficult to adjust.
“Shut up loser, I meant parties.” Dick said, pulling you close to adjust your cowl for you.
“It’s just for a few hours, and then maybe we can have some Halloween fun at my place?” You teased, giving him a quick kiss.
“Well, when you put it like that…” He trailed off, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the venue.
The doors were opened and you saw an entire crowd of masked faces, the lights were low, and the music was loud. Drinks were being passed around by waiters, the party lights were bright on your faces, and Dick could not wait to leave.
“Well if it isn’t Daywing and Claws.” A voice sing-songed.
You turned to see Harley, more paint on her face than usual, her hair messily tied up into two pigtails. She had clearly been drinking way too much already.
“Harley.” Dick said, turning to her and crossing his arms.
“Harley!” You beamed, squeezing the blonde tightly.
“Oh, Claws, I knew you loved me! Come, meet some of my friends! Or, they’ll be my friends once they know I’m friends with you.” Harley slurred, tugging on your arm to drag you through the crowd.
Dick was about to reach for you to pull you back, but it had already been too late, Harley was pulling you through the room. You looked back at Dick to reach your hand out to him and mouth a small ‘love-you’ to which he returned. He sighed, walking around to the far end of the room where he found Jason and Tim. Tim was on his laptop, typing away, his face so close to the screen he might as well have kissed it. Jason was holding a drink, his back to the wall as he observed the crowd.
“Surprised you’re not messing around, Jay.” Dick said.
“And get caught up with a hero? No way, what if the sex is bad? That’ll ruin this for me forever.” Jason said, downing the rest of his drink.
“Dick, much?” The older brother responded.
“Ha. Ha. Ironic.” Jason rolled his eyes.
Dick reaches for his own drink, scanning the room and leaning against the wall with Jason. His escrima sticks across his back make it hard for him to lean comfortably. He pauses when he sees you, across the room, dancing with Harley. You downed your drink and hollered, jumping around the blonde as you danced. It shouldn’t have surprised him that you enjoyed yourself so much at parties, he just didn’t expect you to be so lively.
And God, did you look hot. He always saw you in your suit but its effect on him never weakened. He watched you dance, grabbing another drink once in a while. You were getting sweaty while dancing and unzipped your suit a bit, as well as undoing the buckle on your cowl. That was all it took for Dick to walk over to you, eager, wanting, and very turned on. He pulls on your wrist, making you look at him in concern.
“Nightwing, what’s wrong?” You asked, passing your drink off to Harley.
“We’ve gotta go, like, now.” He said in your ear, arousal dripping off his tongue.
You gulped, and turned to tell Harley you were leaving because of an emergency. She winked at you, getting the hint.
“Oookay cutie! Whateva ya say claws, don’t be pulling nothing fancy Wing Boy!” She yelled, pointing to Dick with a wave of her finger.
Dick was quick to pull you out of the venue, the two of you making it to your apartment in no time. His lips were on yours in no time, tasting the alcohol that lingered.
“Mph, babe, jeez what’s got you so turned on?” You asked, tilting your head back as he planted kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck.
“My girlfriend is insanely hot, and the alcohol wasn’t helping.” He unzipped your suit completely.
“So was it the suit, the alcohol, me getting sweaty, me dancing, or-“
“All of the above, now stop talking.” He rushed, pulling you to his chest and tugging the skintight material off your shoulders.
Summary: It is from the small gestures, he realises it is okay to let go of what once broke and embrace, self healing.
Warnings: Slight angst. Reference to being kidnapped. Description of Jason’s torture and death. Feelings of anxiety. Mention of injuries and bruises. Swearing.
Word count: 3k
Note: Flashbacks/ Jason’s memories are italicised.
•─────────•°•❀•°•─────────•
Governed by paranoia, nocturnality casts a shadow over Gotham.
Drenched in harrowed darkness, deviants linger in the streets. Crouching in narrow corners, they wait with a sadistic smile and then, they strike.
Their laughter echoes in the tainted atmosphere, malignancy flowing amidst the twisted cadence.
It haunts him.
Flooding the barricades of his mind, the sounds play to no seeming end. A raging fire reducing his stability to embers.
It robs him from the cradle of slumber. Eyes wide in distraught, they remain etched on the blank ceiling. Their reminder omits tendrils, grasping at his wrists, he is rendered motionless.
Forced to envision his endless demise.
Two scars, an opening of skin, from one end to another. Crimson red, a mixture of blood and paint.
“You wanna know how I got these scars?”
In response, Jason had learned to embrace quietude.
The answer was never stagnant, changing with every beat of time.
“My father, was a drinker, and a fiend. And one night, he goes off crazier than usual. Mommy gets the kitchen knife to defend herself. He doesn't like that. Not. One. Bit. So, me watching, he takes the knife to her, laughing while he does it. He turns to me and says, "Why so serious?" Comes at me with the knife. "WHY SO SERIOUS?" He sticks the blade in my mouth.”
With every word, he drew closer. His knife drew closer. A maniacal look in his eyes, he was drowning in hysterics.
Jason kept his head bowed; avoidance his strategy. Fear infested, he found himself incapable of escape.
The gesture left him unsatisfied. Knife placed under his chin, he nudged his head up to meet his dazed line of sight.
“Come on, Jason, why so serious!” he seethed.
He had stumbled near, Jason could feel his breath. Warm, intoxicated. He wanted to move away, the nooses held him still.
Gashes on his skin, his suit ripped. He seemed to have bled all his body offered and now, he was tired.
“Tell me, Jason, where is your father? Hmm. Where is the bat? Where is your hero?”
He hummed, like a songbird. Circled him like prey and him, the predator.
“Batman…”
Jason grunted, every thrash accompanied by a panting breath. Eyes shut, he held back tears elicited from betrayal. Heart beating rampant, he moaned in distress. Moving, he stretched his wounds.
Pain, a welcomed distraction.
“Batman isn’t coming to save you, Jason.”
He laughed. Loud and brazen. A crowbar in his hand, his hits registered repetitive. The sound of metal against skin filtered through the abandoned dwelling.
No one else around to see.
No one else around to hear.
No one else to save him.
Jason fell forward. His chair broke into a myriad of wooden pieces, splintering his skin. His iron burned cheek rubbed against cement, the “J” certified permanent.
Eyes closed as the will of fight dissipated, with a melancholic smile, he went.
His past plays in an endless motion and sleep, evades him. He finds himself wishing to escape, just for a minuscule moment, the burden he bears.
Eyes open wide, he watches the night sky. The moon casts a warm glow, illuminating the room subtly and for which, he is grateful, the invisible darkness no longer a friend. He counts the stars, noting their silver sheen against the blue atmosphere.
It is all a futile attempt at distraction. Mind inescapable, his heart remains heavy.
A warm hand on his flushed chest reels him back. Blinking, his irises burn. The audio in his mind slowly fades and in its stead, encases him, the noise of reality.
The whirring of the ceiling fan. The distant honking of cars on the street. The occasional thud from the upstairs apartment.
The sound of her breathing.
An ethereal one, it slows the pace of his heart. Let’s it embrace normality.
He shifts and watches her hand slide off, only to gracefully land on his right bicep. He finds himself studying her: the curl of her lashes, the slope of her nose, the bow of her lips, how they part to release little breaths of air.
A little closer and he can smell the remnants of her perfume. Floral, familiar.
It hits, all in one go.
He should not be here. He should not be alive.
But perhaps, it is amidst her presence, where he is meant to reside, till his very next end.
✦ ✧
Morning comes, and with it, new betrayals.
Studying his reflection in the hazy mirror, a feeling of discontent settles within. Heavy on his chest, it imitates suffocation.
His lock of hair, once brown, now slyly transfiguring into a petrifying white. Encased in horrific reminiscence, it evokes past traumas.
Jason hates it.
Standing in the doorway, he feels her gaze; intense, understanding.
“Time for a re-dye?” she asks, in that soft tone of hers. Never a hint of judgment prevalent between the words.
He bows his head, eyes discouraged from meeting her own. Cowardice rests a hand on his shoulder and closely behind, trails sheer embarrassment.
“Yes,” he whispers, in a voice so broken and dejected.
Head still bowed, sight still hidden, she sees it all in the clench of his fists. Knuckles bared white, they hold the weight of his emotions.
Silent, she works around him with ease. Gathering supplies, she allows him the time to recuperate, never one to disrupt until his permission lays evident.
Plastic gloves on, she gestures for him to sit on the closed lidded toilet. He follows her instructions, voiceless, without question, like a soldier. It worries her, holds the blade right at her throat but she embraces faux composure, for it is what he needs, from her.
With a featherlight touch , she pushes his chin upwards. She displays a smile, only to note his eyes stare right past her. Distant and dazed. He cannot seem to escape the wrath of a once known mad man.
Applying the colour with slow, careful strokes, she quietly speaks, “It’s okay to change the things that remind you of the bad times.”
Finally, his gaze lands on hers.
“Am I not just running?” so innocent, replicating a lost child’s, one simply yearning to find his way.
She stops, and shakes her head, “No. To me, you’re choosing to move on.”
Slowly, the feeling of suffocation begins to dissipate. Gradually the nausea within the pit of his stomach comes to settle, and he finds the shadow of cowardice crouch away from his drained body. He lets her words sink in and assigns to them, precedence.
Putting the supplies away, she leans to place a kiss onto his warm forehead, “15 minutes, Angel.”
Heart beat rising, he seems to have lost all words.
“I-” a breathy stutter, he struggles to speak.
It is too much. It is all too much.
She knows.
Getting up, she discards the gloves, “I’ll come back to wash it out for you.”
Turning her back to him, she gives him the time he requires. Time to understand it is okay.
Watching her, he feels his heart clench. “Thank you,” he whispers, barely there.
She hears it. With a small upward curl of her lips, she halts. She does not turn, but offers the consolation he seldom seeks, “Anything for you.”
It is not easy to recover.
But perhaps, it is with her, that he can overcome the barriers.
✦ ✧
Hand tightly clasped around the withered handle, he hammers the nail into the plank of wood. Battering hard, the hits are loud. They silence the vile imagery of his mind. With their noise, they sprout temporary peace.
His grasp remains taut, fearful that if he let go, the internal quietude would come barrelling.
Knuckles stretching against the leather handle, his bruises incite ache. A deep throbbing beneath his torn skin.
Every nights game.
He would fight, bare his skin black and blue and for those moments, he felt the pain of the past be replaced with joyous satisfaction.
If he were to come back, Jason would win.
“Having fun?” she quips, moving towards him with a tray of cold drinks.
Smiling, he drops the hammer and hesitantly, he thanks the quiet still looming around his head.
It always seems to be amidst her closeness.
“Oh, yeah, it’s great- heats kicking my ass, though,” standing up, he wipes the precipitation of his forehead. Moving towards her, he takes the glass and drinks with huge gulps, once done, he thanks her with a quick peck against her cheek.
Setting the tray on the porch swing, she stands in front of him, raking her fingers through his hair, she moves them away from his eyes, ignorant towards the sweat.
“You know, you can do this at a later time. It’s definitely not worth you getting a heat stroke,” frowning, she mothers him.
Let the world be damned, it is only Jason she will always remain concerned for.
Heart softening at her care, he beams at her, “It’s alright, doll. Think I’ve got it, the step shouldn’t be bothering us anymore.”
Retracting her fingers, she pats his chest, “Okay, then. You go take a shower and I’ll finish up on lunch.”
“Sure you don’t want my help?”
Taking the glass away from him, she snorts, “To burn down our kitchen? No, thank you. You just go take care of yourself, handsome, I’ve got it.”
“Oh and let me take a look at your hands when you’re done, yeah?” she calls out to him, before making a turn towards their kitchen.
He smiles. Teeth visible, eyes scrunched.
He often found himself baffled at the serenity she evokes within him. No weight on him, his heart feels light.
He feels happy.
Jason watches her retreating figure and wishes to remain trapped in this moment forever, to relive it over and over with no seeming end. To never recall the dangers of the past, to forget his ruthless end.
It seems wishful, imaginative.
But perhaps, it is by her side, where he can simply exist like others do.
✦ ✧
Sitting at their dresser, she meticulously goes through her routine. Products laid out in order, she works with them with great intensity and care.
From the bed, he watches, mesmerised.
Something so simple, so mundanely common yet he was enthralled, because it was to do with her.
He found this to be one of his favourite times, at night when they are together. Verbosity does not matter as long as she is near. In her presence, his mind hardly wanders, too preoccupied with thoughts of her.
In her presence, he found that maybe he truly was capable of moving forward without a trace of the shadow of his past life.
“What’s that for?”
“This?” she gestures to the cylindrical container consisting of a white cream, “Moisturiser-it’s to make my skin smooth,” she smiles.
“Explains why you’re so soft,” he winks eliciting a small laugh from her.
“Do you wanna try it?” She asks, mindlessly, focusing on applying the cream onto her face in repetitive motions.
It means nothing. A simple question.
Yet it lands in the pitfalls of his stomach, tearing at his insides with vengeful intent.
It reminds him of the marks he had left.
“Jay, everything alright? You’ve gone quiet.”
“Huh, uh, yeah. Sure, I-I’ll try it,” he mumbles, still trying bury the nauseous thoughts infesting his mind.
Walking over to him, she kneels to be at eye level. Smiling, she scoops a small dollop and spreads it on his face evenly.
Closing his eyes, he audibly winces.
“Cold?” she pouts in giddy amusement.
“No, sorry, it’s just…”
It is always within these moments where he finds words forsaking him, leaving him behind in hysterical befuddlement.
Entirely frustrating, he feels ashamed.
“What’s wrong?“ she whispers, taken aback by the sudden shift in the room.
In his eyes.
“When he did-he, he ruined my skin,” lips trembling, his voice breaks. Eyes glazed over, the memory reduces him to tears.
Her heart breaks, into tiny trinkets, seeping into her veins like sharp blades.
Smoothing her fingers over his face, she feels every space, every bump, every crevice. Her touch emphasises it’s current state.
“You feel that, Jay? It’s not there anymore, it’s gone.”
Hands falling to her side, she rests her forehead against his. Eyes closing at the impact, she whispers, “He’s gone.”
“He can’t hurt you anymore.”
In finality, he breaks down. Her words loom over him, wrapping him a comfortable embrace, promising assurance.
Tears leaving behind a burning reminder of what once was.
But perhaps, the truth resides within her words; he is no more and along with him, has vanished any control he ever had over Jason.
✦ ✧
“We should go star-gazing tonight, what do you think?” he mumbles absentmindedly.
Lowering the heat, she turns to face him. Sitting at the dining table, his nose is buried in a book. Eyes devouring the pages eagerly.
A beautiful sight, she wishes to capture forever. To view over and over again, to remind her of the goodness that is him.
“Where’s this coming from?” mirth dances beneath her words, heart floundering at his spontaneity.
Inserting his book mark, he closes book and looks in her direction.
“We haven’t gone in a while, we used to go up to the cliff all the time.”
“Hmm, that’s true. I didn’t even realise, honestly…”
Standing up, he walks over to her. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulls her close. Flashing her a small smile, he lightly sways her side to side, “So what do you say?”
Resting her head against his chest, she smiles at the beating of his heart.
Oh, what a truly symphonic sound.
“Yeah, we should go. Give me five minutes, I’ll pack up dinner and we can have a picnic up there.”
Looking up at the ceiling, he groans, “Woman after my own heart, I swear.”
Pulling him down for a kiss, she giggles, “Alright, Romeo, get the car ready I’ll meet you outside.”
Moving away from him, he grabs a hold of her hand causing her to halt. Turning, she faces him once more, brow quirked in confusion, “You know, I love you, right?”
Brows softening, she finds herself getting trapped in a love fuelled haze.
Squeezing his fingers, she returns the sentiment, “I love you too.”
✦ ✧
One hand on the wheel, his other hand hold hers at the centre console, dropping it periodically to shift gears only to grab it again.
Thumb stroking her skin, he feels calmness from within.
Windows down, the cool night’s air wisps through the car.
The radio plays loudly and Jason sings the words at a competing volume. Without a care in the world, he succumbs to the solace the night has to offer.
The solace her presence has to offer.
She stares, blatantly. Her heart elated at his youthful giddiness, for it is a rarity. At night, he loses himself to the horrors of his fractured memories.
But as the days have gone by, those memories seem to be losing their place to ones sparking comfort.
She can only pray that the new ones stay embedded.
She can only pray that the near future only has to show kindness.
Pulling their intertwined hands up to her face, she gives the back of his hand a kiss.
✦ ✧
Food consumed and packed away, the pair lay on the soft checkered print blanket.
Her head on his chest, she makes out shapes with the stars, gaze lost within their picturesque gleam.
Hands brushing over her hair, he reflects.
There is no storm brewing in his mind. There is no grief suffocating him.
He is simply in the moment, at one with her.
“You seem better these days,” she whispers, unmoving, eyes still etched onto the sky.
“Yeah?”
He feels curious, at her perception of him, of what had happened.
She would never judge. He knew that. But what was it that she truly thought, of him.
“You don’t have a lot of nightmares anymore.”
Tracing her finger over his shirt, she draws indistinguishable patterns.
“You noticed?”
He never knew.
“I usually stay awake till late,” she mumbles.
Hand on her back, he gestures for her to sit up. Brows furrowed, she stares at him confused.
He stares at her, emotions indescribable.
“Why?”
“Just in case you needed me,” she shrugs.
“I never knew,” he whispers, voice low and full of guilt.
“I never told you. Jay, it’s not a big deal. I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, getting enough rest. You were just exhausted all the time, it made me worry.”
“I-thank you,” he sighs.
“I already told you: I’d do anything for you,” she says, earnest.
Resting his weight on his elbows, he shifts his sight to the view of the city.
“I think I’m ready to let go.”
“What do you mean?”
He laughs.
“Before, I was mad at this city. I was mad at Dick, at Bruce. I felt betrayed.”
“I died protecting a city that didn’t even mourn my loss.”
A few moments pass, drenched in silence. She struggles to find the right words, the words that would take away the harrowing thoughts and soothe them into oblivion.
What can you say to comfort a man who lost everything only for it to return in devastating moderation?
“Jason, I don’t really know what to say, I’m sorry,” facing him at his side, she rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No matter what, though, you didn’t deserve any of it. It wasn’t fair.”
He continues.
“I look at this city now and feel this new sense of liberation. I’m not that little kid anymore. This is a new life, why can’t it be a fresh start?”
Staring into her eyes, he relents, “I don’t wish to think of him anymore.”
“Okay.”
Laying back down, he feels a weight escape at his confession, “Okay.”
Laying next to him, with her head on his shoulder, she smiles, “Consider him nonexistent then.”
Laughing, he wraps his arm around her, “I meant what I said. Thank you, for everything you do. I wouldn’t be here, this way, if you hadn’t been there. You take care of me.”
“You take care of me too.”
He feels his heart race. There is a newfound sense of living surrounding them. He does not have to live in restraints anymore.
This is a new beginning.
“Hey, this city may be a shit hole but at least it brought you to me.”
It was simply within his nature to let his poeticism often dictate his speech.
It was for her and her, only.
✦ ✧
His life is not easy.
But perhaps, it is within this moment, he has found the key to live; not as the boy who once died, rather as the boy who was reborn.
Trying To Be Red Hood For Halloween (Jason Todd x GN!Reader)
Pairing: Jason Todd x GN! Reader! Fluff, slightly suggestive
Halloween Drabble, WC: 195
“That’s a ridiculous fucking costume.”
You turned to face Jason, he was leaning against the doorframe, staring at you as you twirled around in the mirror. You were wearing some cheap patterned suit and a leather jacket that was way too big for you. It was like you purposely butchered Red Hood’s look.
“You don’t like it?” You asked, looking at him through your cheap, saggy, red mask.
“I’m flattered you want to be me but this really isn’t selling it.”
“You’re an asshat.”
“Wow. I’m swooning.”
You told him to shut up as you pulled your mask off and pulled him over to you for a kiss. He couldn’t deny you, melting in your touch. He pushed the leather jacket off your shoulders as he deepened the kiss, hands moving up to cup your face.
“You know,” he said between kisses, “You look a lot more like Spider-Man than me.”
“Yeah, I think it’s supposed to be a cheap Spider-Man costume.”
Jason parted from you and gasped dramatically, hand over his heart as he turned and walked out of the room.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader! Fluff, nice old english lady, not proofread LOL (prepare for errors), connects to Luthor’s Soldier -> HERE
WC: 500, Drabble
“Oh darling! You are back, how wonderful, I was beginning to think you had grown sick of me!” An old woman hollered as we entered.
“Jay, is that-“
“Mrs. Bennett! You know I’d never get sick of my favorite coffee lady!” Jason cheered, letting go of your hand to hug the old lady that came out from behind the counter.
“Oh, you must be (Y/N), back from your trip so soon! Jason here had me thinking you were never going to come back!” She said, delicately reaching for my hand and squeezing it.
“Oh, gosh, Mrs. Bennett, I, um, didn’t know you were British! And wow, you already know so much about me.” You said, the last part through your teeth as you side-eyed Jason.
He had told you he wanted to take you to a coffee shop that morning, with the both of you having the day off, it seemed perfect. You didn’t know he would be taking you to meet Mrs. Bennett, a nice old lady that Jason said he talked to a lot while you were put under the gas during your days as Lex Luthor’s soldier. Mrs. Bennett owned the coffee shop that opened in the nicer corner of Gotham, Jason said her and her granddaughter often ran it together, but she had to hire more workers since the coffee shop made its way to the paper. (Courtesy of Red Hood calling in a few favors.)
She sat down with the two of you, asking her granddaughter to bring over a plate of pastries from display case. Jason moved to pull out his wallet but she put her hand on his arm.
“You really think I’m going to have you pay after how much you’ve been here? On the house today, darling. Oh, (Y/N), you must try my coffee, it was everyone’s favorite back in London, I’ll be right back!” Mrs. Bennett said, pushing the plate over to you and Jason.
“Wow, um, she’s uh…”
“Fast?” He finished.
“Yeah,” You laughed. “She’s very lively at 65 years old.”
“Now you know how I was able to have so many conversations with her.” Jason explained.
“I’m glad, Jay.” You mused, looking up at him lovingly.
He pulled you in for a quick hug, laying a gentle kiss on your forehead, squeezing you like a teddy bear.
“You kids are just adorable, I love it! (Y/N), you must tell me all about your trip.” Mrs. Bennett said, sliding a warm cup of coffee in front of you, latte art in the shape of a rose sitting on top of it.
You were in awe of it.
“How about, I tell you all about my trip, and you teach me how to do latte art like this.” You said, smiling brightly at the old woman.
“Oh for sure darling, for sure! Maybe if you do well, you can work here with little old me and my granddaughter!” She said, making you contemplate her offer.
friendly reminder that you're allowed to need people, in fact everyone needs people. needing the company of others does not make you weak. spending time with other people is how we learn and grow.
Joy (19, She/Her) @pixelgirlsworld - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
