The Most Sweetest And Gentlest Jason Todd Fic I Have Read 😖💕

I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.

-Sylvia Plath

Octavia deserved SO much better than how everyone(especially Bellamy) treated her in seasons 5-6. She was instantly being judged because of the bunker without anyone trying to understand what she’d been through and what she’d had to sacrifice or even just showing a little bit of empathy. She was cast aside in season 6 like she was worth nothing with barely anyone caring. And what’s worse is that Bellamy, after he abandoned her, had the audacity to act all sad about it and use that as an excuse for treating Echo like shit. And the only thing Octavia did wrong in season 5 was burn down the farm and even that was understandable. Like a lot of people view it as a decision she made because she was power hungry and I disagree. The bunker is the source of Octavia’s greatest trauma, it represents all the darkest parts of her and it’s the place that forced her into becoming something she never wanted to be so that her people could survive. Of course she’s not going to want to stay there. Octavia needed Wonkru to reach Eden and she needed to be the one to lead them there because if she didn’t then her sacrifice was for nothing, she turned herself into Blodreina for nothing. She needed her sacrifices to mean something good for her people, that she didn’t suffer and that her people didn’t suffer in the bunker for nothing. Ever since Octavia became Osleya, people had been telling her that she was going to be the one to lead them to salvation after the bunker (Gaia in the dark year episode) and Octavia believed that and internalized that and she used that to drive her through those years in the bunker. Octavia was hurt, and she had lost her way, but that didn’t make her evil. It didn’t make her undeserving of redemption or sympathy or understanding and I hate that they treated her that way in season 6.

Reading this at dawn made it all the more sweeter 💕💌

𝜗𝜚 MY LOVE , MINE, ALL MINE, ALL MINE ❤︎𝄢..

📞 — aftercare with JASON TODD 𝜗𝜚

✉️ — contents : : aftercare , mentions of jay's scars , fluff , yearner!jason todd , first time having sex ( in their relationship ) , grammatical errors , ooc (?)

✉️ — word count : : 1.9k

✉️ — vi whispers : : woohoo !! we reached 700!! also,, i'm still in the hospital, unfortunately. but i will be doing an event 😋 just expect,,, late responsdjes. back to my oldoldold format!!! NOW. this is acc for @fromdove !! like,, remember when i told you that i'll write you a reply?? well, here it is !! lol, how dare you be upset. + will be redoing my m.list. couldn't edit this bc my mom took my laptop

your skin still tingles. it's as if your entire body is remembering what just occurred in waves ▰ the weight of his palms, the way he spoke your name like it was something sacred. the air smells of sweat & heat & him. all is black except for the warm yellow light from the hallway seeping in through the half-open door. the blankets are kicked halfway off the bed, wrapped around your ankle. you're there with your chest rising & falling slow, like the only thing holding you to earth is the weight of his body beside yours.

he's on your side, one arm slung over your waist, forehead against your shoulder. breathing hard like he's still trying to come down. his palm glides up. your ribcage ▰ not sexually, just there, anchoring himself with you. his lips brush the back of your neck. you feel him smile a little.

"you okay?" he asks, but it's softer than normal. almost like he's afraid to screw this up.

you hum, nod, still panting. "yeah. better than okay."

jason pulls nack a little so that he can see your face. his hair is standing up in a dozen different directions, cheeks flushed, lips puffy. his eyes are dark & gentle & so, so exhausted. but they're all for you like you're the only thing in the world that exists. like perhaps he still can't get his head around you being with him, still with him after ▰ & not just forgotten like everything else.

"good," he mutters, but he still scans your face like he's trying to verify something. then, a beat behind, he adds, "didn't mean to be too rough."

you snort. "you weren't."

he's not looking convinced. his fingers are drawing small circles along your hip now. he doesn't say a word, just presses a kiss to your temple & exhales like his entire body is deflating. you reach down, grasp his hand in yours & bring it to your lips. kiss his knuckles. it's slow, gentle, & something in his chest stutters. cracks. hitched.

he rolls onto his back, arm still wrapped around your waist, & glares up at the ceiling as if it has answers scribbled all over it. his throat bobs as he swallows hard. you can tell he's thinking too much. his walls are still up, just thinner now ▰ llike he's cracking his door open a little, even if he's afraid.

"you sure you're okay?" he repeats. & it was the first time you both had sex ever since you two officially became a couple. & it's not just sex. it's everything. about how much he wishes he could be good to you. about the thousand demons in his chest that tell him he can't.

you shift closer until you're half on top of him, nose bumping his jaw. "jason," you whisper, & that's all it takes for him to relax a little.

his arm wraps tighter around you as if he's scared you'll disappear if he releases you. his other hand runs through your hair, hesitant at first, then more insistent, like he remembers you like it that way. he kisses your forehead, your cheek, the edge of your mouth. over & over, slow & soft, worshipping. he doesn't speak but his hands do ▰ they say thank you & i missed you even though we live in the same apartment & don't go.

his voice is hoarse when he speaks again at last. "lemme get you water."

"don't wanna move."

"i'll carry you."

you laugh into his neck. "you're naked."

he smiles, a little. "so are you."

"bold of you to assume i'm getting up."

"fine," he breathes, leaning his head to kiss you again on the jaw. "we'll dehydrate together. tragically romantic."

he doesn't actually get up for another couple of minutes. just stays there with you on top of him, fingers brushing the curve of your back, languid & awed. but after a bit he rolls over, pats your leg.

"alright," he says softly, "give me two seconds." & already he's slipping under & away from you.

he stands, stretches, runs a hand through his hair. & god ▰ you look. he's hot. you can't help it. the way his back curves, all that muscle shifting under skin like a sculpture made of marble that stood up & decided to look at you like that. he notices you looking & grins, wicked. bitch.

"take a picture," he jokes, picking up his sweats from the floor. "it'll last longer."

you toss a pillow at him. he catches it in mid·air, smiling. "what, can't handle the view?"

"get me water, todd."

he salutes, tugging the sweats on. "yes ma'am."

you watch him walk out & your heart kind of… swells. not just because he’s hot ▰ he is, but it’s more than that. it’s the way he hums under his breath when he thinks you’re not listening. the way he double checks the temperature of the water before bringing it to you. the way he wants to take care of you, even if he’s still learning what that means.

he returns with water & a protein bar. holds the cup to your lips like you're royalty & he's your servant, which cracks you up again. until he says "drink" with this expression that shuts you up real quick. you sip a few times. he stands there the entire time like your health is the most important thing in the world.

you remove the cup from him & place it, then pull him back onto the bed. "your turn," you tell him, pushing his hair behind his ears. "you okay?"

he stiffens a little. as if he wasn't expecting that. as if he forgot that people are allowed to ask him that too.

his voice is gentle when he speaks. "yeah. i just…"

he trails off. but you know. you know.

you run your fingers over his chest. "you don't have to say it."

he nods, then leans in & kisses you again. slow & deep & a little desperate. like he's trying to memorize this. the safety. the closeness. you let him. you kiss him back until he sighs against your lips, until he lets his shoulders relax under your hands, until he's not red hood or a broken boy or the bat's second sidekick ▰ just jason. just yours.

he buries his face in your neck afterwards, whispering, "you're really okay?"

you kiss his shoulder. "yeah. are you?"

he pauses. "i will be."

you hug him closer.

he's so close. you can feel the thump of his heart in the way he presses his chest against yours. it's a slow thrum. not quick, but gentle. intimate. honest. he's not letting you go anytime soon, & honestly, you don't want him to. his mouth leaves tiny kisses along your neck, slow & deliberate, like he's playing catch-up. perhaps he doesn't realize that you see it, but the way his hands are trembling ever so slightly is all you need to know. he's still hesitant, still so goddamned starved for you even though he already has you. there’s something in him that doesn’t stop needing to touch, to feel, as if it’s the only thing that keeps him grounded.

you bite your lip, pushing your fingers through his messy hair. his eyes flicker open & meet yours, half-lidded with exhaustion but intense.

“you’re really here,” he murmurs. like he needs to hear it out loud.

"yeah, jason," you reply softly, tracing your thumb over his cheek. "i'm right here."

he leans his forehead against yours, releasing a breath as if he's not saying anything. his arms wrap tighter around you once more, as if he's worried that you're going to get away if he doesn't hold on. you roll over onto your back, pulling him along with you, the blanket wrapped around your ankles. it's silent for a bit, the only noise is the constant thrum of the city out there & the slow, thudding pulse of his breathing.

then, out of nowhere, he begins kissing you again. slow at first, just his lips grazing against yours. but then, he goes deeper. soft & hungry, his hands cradling your face like you could break. it's warm, it's soft, & you can feel every inch of him. when he pulls back, he gazes at you with uncertainty. his lips red, his hair disheveled, his face too vulnerable for the jason todd you once thought you'd known.

"don't go," he utters softly, & it's as if his entire universe hangs in the balance.

you smile, weaving your fingers through his hair once more. "i'm not going anywhere."

he sighs, a little relieved. but the moment doesn’t last long before his fingers start feeling your body again, gently this time ▰ tracing the line of your spine, the curve of your hip, your stretch marks. his thumb runs over your wrist, brushing lightly, like he’s memorizing you, like he’s trying to make sure he doesn’t miss a single detail of you.

you reach up to touch his chest, & feel his muscles tighten beneath your fingers. he winces a little when your hand slips down, causing him to brush across a scar, but doesn't flinch. instead, he appears to lean into the touch, as though he's finding peace in it.

"sorry," he grunts softly, looking down. "forgot about the scars."

you glance at him, tracing the line of his jaw with your hand. "don't apologize for them," you tell him softly. "they're part of you. and i… i like all of you, jay."

he swallows hard, his chest tightening. "yeah? even the broken ones?"

"especially the hurt ones," you answer ( & corrected ) without hesitation, your eyes locking with his with all the sincerity in the world.

he nods, lips shaking, before he leans in to kiss you once more. this is a softer, slower kiss, like he's trying to say everything he doesn't know how to put into words. when he pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours. his hand wraps around your waist, his fingers digging in a little.

you lay a hand to his chest, tracing little circles over his heart. "you're good, jason," you whisper. "you're more than good."

he shakes his head slightly, closing his eyes for a moment as if your words are too much to take in. then, he nuzzles into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “don’t think i know how to do this,” he says quietly, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "like. this. i don't know what you need."

you smile gently, tracing your fingers through his hair once more. "just be here with me," you breathe. "that's all i need."

he grunts in his throat. but he does not argue. instead, he glides closer, holding you against him as if he is afraid you might slip out of his hands. his lips brush the top of your head, & he stays there, his breathing slow & even against your skin.

you can tell he's going out of his way. attempting to do this right ▰ despite not knowing if he knows he's doing it wrong or not, he's learning, kiss by tender kiss, touch by tender touch. he wants you to feel at peace with him( you are ). he wants to take care of you, even though he's terrified that he's going to get it all wrong.

you lean into him, your body against his, & shut your eyes. "you're doing it right," you whisper. "this is perfect. so are you."

his arms wrap tighter around you once more, & for a second, you think you're the only thing that matters to him. his voice is husky when he talks, low & rough. "i'm not perfect, you know."

you kiss his chest, your lips touching the scar on his ribs. "you don't need to be," you say. "just.. be you. that's all i need, jason."

© MINORLYATFAULT 2025

green is not your colour (1) - coriolanus snow.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.

Warning: Implied cheating.

Summary: You've been engaged to Coriolanus Snow for a few short weeks and have been living together for even shorter but, the betrothal is put through its first test when Coriolanus's affair makes itself known. Part (1/2).

Wordcount: 1.3k.

A/N: This takes place in the 'You Keep Him There' universe. A couple of months before Christmas Kiss. Please tell me you catch the Yellowstone reference.

11 months ago.

The stone bench cuts into the skin of your exposed thigh, one leg crossed over the other as your arm rests along the back of the garden seat. Goosebumps cover the length of your body; remnants of last night’s cold snap are still evident as the icy blanket that covers the Manor’s grounds slowly melt away with the slow rising sun. 

Of course, the cold was of no concern. Not when you had your new found habit to keep you warm. 

Taking a drag from the lit cigarette between your fingers, your gaze is unwavering as you stare down the anxious chauffeur who had pulled into the driveway of your new home at the same time that you did - belonging neither to you or Coriolanus.

It had taken you all of 30 seconds to piece together what was going on and who the car belonged to - after all, you weren’t supposed to be home until the afternoon. You aren’t surprised Coriolanus would do this but, it doesn’t make it hurt any less; doesn’t temper the green eyed monster threatening to rear its ugly head.

Sure, you didn’t like him but, the two of you had known each other your entire lives; would marry in less than a year, he belonged to you- you'd hoped those things would at least mean something to him too but, it doesn’t and again, that doesn’t surprise you but, you are disappointed. Disappointed that he would bring this into your home.

The chauffeur fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves, unsure of where to look as his gaze shifts nervously between you and the front doors until finally, they open and he relaxes slightly, eager to escape the weight of your stare as he wrenches the car door open for his passenger. 

You watch, hidden from their view as she emerges from your home, bidding farewell to your fiance. Crushing the cigarette, you wait until she’s about to enter the car to make your presence known. 

“I always suspected there may be something more between the two of you but, to become his mistress?” You stand, making your way over to her. 

Stopping a metre out, you drag your gaze lazily over her figure until you meet her own surprised one. 

“My, my, Clemensia, I never expected that from you,” you tut. “Although, I won’t lie. After your… stint in the hospital back in our academy days, I didn’t think he’d ever look at you again.” 

She flinches at your words but it doesn’t keep her down for long. The red-eyed, puffy-cheeked beauty straightening her back and puffing her chest with an air of arrogance that you did not appreciate. 

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” you repeat, laughing at the nerve of her. “Clemensia, this is my house. I can come and go as I please but, you? Well, we are going to have a problem if I see you around here again.”

"You can't stop me. He was mine first."

You take an intimidating step closer. 

“You want to sleep with Coriolanus? Fine. That’s your choice but, not in my house. Affairs are for hotels not homes, and if you ever step foot in mine again, I will make sure you never take another step again. Got it?”

She swallows thickly but nods her understanding. 

"Good. Now get off of my property before, I have you removed from it."

You don’t wait for her to go, sights immediately set on the fool you were to take as your husband in less than a year.

“Coriolanus,” you yell, throwing the doors open, anger finally revealing itself. “Coriolanus!”

You find him sitting at the head of the dining table, looking equally as surprised as his whore to see you. Unlike her however, he’s quick to hide it. 

“When did you-”

“You keep your whores out of my house, Coriolanus,” you warn him. “You keep your whores out of my house or I will teach you a lesson that I promise you will never forget.”

-

You spend the rest of the day sleeping, too tired from the morning's events and traveling to do anything else but rest, so it’s dark out by the time you leave your room. 

Padding down the staircase, your tummy makes its hunger known, growling out for anyone awake to hear. Sleepily, you make your way to the kitchen, not noticing the dim light emitting from the space until you're already inside with an unwanted guest. 

You look at him for a moment, thinking about whether to tuck tail and turn away or continue on your journey for food- your stomach makes your decision for you however, when it growls again. 

Coriolanus is the first to speak. “There's a plate in the fridge for you.” 

You don’t acknowledge him, opening the fridge in silence and indeed finding the plate of food inside. You pretend he’s not there as you move around the kitchen to warm your food up. When everything is ready, you take a seat at the kitchen bench- it’s then that Coriolanus decides to speak again.

“I think we should talk about this morning.”

“We have,” you answer him, tone clipped. “And I told you not to bring your whores into my house again.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

You breathe a laugh of disbelief. Was it not enough to discover what you did this morning now, he wanted to discuss it too? Picking up your plate, you make to leave- there were other rooms in this place that you could eat peacefully in. 

“It’s over-” he follows after you, blocking your path. “Me and Clemmie. I ended things with her.”

“Clemmie,” you scoff the name. “How very considerate of you. Does she know that?”

“She does and I didn’t end it because of what happened this morning- I ended things weeks ago. She’s just having a hard time letting go but, I promise it is. I’m with you.”

You pause- pinching the bridge of your nose.

“You should’ve ended it months ago, well before we even got engaged.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

You nod but don't forgive him and he uses your silence to keep talking. 

“I want to make this work, I want us to get along, I want-” he hesitates, taking your free hand. “I want you to like me.” 

“What makes you think I don’t?”

“You made it very clear in the Academy that you don’t, I doubt your opinion of me has changed much since.” 

You smile bitterly down at your joined hands. Your dislike for Coriolanus in school differed vastly from why you disliked him now.  

You wonder if it would ever be possible to like Coriolanus Snow now. 

It was hard to see the possibility when your entire being now depended on marrying him. Your grandparents had already loved him, he was Old Guard, cut from the same cloth and as he got older, they saw the future in Coriolanus Snow, future president of Panem. And that was before the proposal was even brought to them. Once it was… they would be damned if you married anyone else. When you attempted to go against it, they had made it known that they were more than willing to reduce you to nothing; taking steps to ensure you couldn’t refuse by hinging your inheritance of the Blizzard Telecommunications and Mass Media Empire and wealth on marrying him. Coriolanus Snow had snatched any freedom or hope for the future you envisioned for yourself away from you and he didn’t even know it. 

Maybe one day you’d move past it or maybe one day he'd accept that you never would but, for now you settle for “maybe you can start with buying me a new house.”

Coriolanus chuckles but you're being serious and he agrees, "soon."

“And Coriolanus?”

“Yeah?”

“I don't ever want to see you with Clemensia Dovecote again. I don’t take kindly to those who you would threaten to take what is mine. Green is not my colour and, I promise you won’t like seeing me in it either.”

-

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

bookofbonbon 2024. All rights reserved.

Can you write a fic where John and Amelia meet each other’s families?

promise of love, major john egan

pairing: major john "bucky" egan x amelia mae

content: john meets amelia's parents, but one of them is reluctant to give him their blessing.

an: hope you enjoyed, anon!

“I believe any man that she is with should be bringing something to her life. If you aren’t a positive addition to her life, then what are you? What are you contributing to her life?” 

Amelia’s eyes closed at the question of her father. Her chest heaved as her heart rate increased. She prayed like a saint day and night, begging God to ensure that the meeting would be beneficial, filled with love and understanding. Yet, the tension was thicker than the snow outside. 

Thankfully, Amelia’s mother adored John; she welcomed him with a warm hug and gentle kiss. His charm swept her mother off her feet and had her just as weak in the knees as Amelia often found herself to be. Her father was the opposite. His stare was stone cold and his handshake was stiff. The one thing she wanted to avoid, failed to be avoided. 

Amelia glanced at her lover, who seemed not affected by the stoic nature of her father. John Egan was a soldier. He wasn’t easily intimidated. He was strong mentally, emotionally, and physically. He knew how to fight for what he wanted and was trained to never back down from a challenge. With a soft sigh, John leaned pressed his back against the wooden chair. 

“With all due respect, sir,” he started. Amelia inhaled sharply. “Relationships are necessary in every aspect of life. You know, you learn, grow, and experience life with another person on a deeper level. Amelia doesn’t need me at all; if anything I need her. I can’t offer her a million dollars and the newest car, but I can give her the love, honor, and respect she deserves. She’s the most important person in my life and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. I swear by my life.” 

Amelia's father remained silent, his stern expression unchanged. He recognized where Amelia got her strong gaze from. Her father’s deep eyes bore into John's much lighter ones with an intensity that could intimidate even the bravest of souls. Yet, John held his ground, his gaze unwavering as he spoke from the depths of his heart. Amelia felt a mixture of anxiety and pride swell within her chest, grateful for John's unwavering commitment to her. Her hand dropped to his thigh, giving him a reassuring caress. 

After what felt like an eternity, her father finally spoke, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of begrudging respect. "Words are easy, son. Actions speak louder. You say you'll honor and respect my daughter, but can you prove it?"

Without hesitation, John met her father's gaze head-on. "Sir, I understand that trust is earned, not given. I may not have all the answers now, but I promise to show you through my actions that I am worthy of your daughter's love and trust. I'll stand by her side through thick and thin, and I'll do whatever it takes to make her happy."

Amelia's heart swelled with uinsung pride. She reached out and gently squeezed his hand, silently conveying her gratitude and love. In that moment, she knew that no matter the challenges they faced, they would overcome them together.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother nod in approval. Slowly, his father did the same, saying lowly, “I hold you to that, son.” 

John nodded. “Yes sir, you’ve got my word.”

“Now that that’s out of the way,” Amelia said slowly with a small smile. She pointed toward the velvety dessert in the middle of the table. “Cake?”

Amelia's invitation to broke the tension in the room, providing a much-needed moment of levity. John flashed a grateful smile at her, relieved to move past the intense scrutiny of her father. With a nod, he accepted the offer, knowing that this simple gesture was a step towards building a bridge between himself and Amelia's family.

Soon, the atmosphere softened, filled with the warmth of familial love and acceptance. Amelia's mother beamed at the sight of her daughter and John, her heart filled with joy at seeing her child happy and loved.

With a sense of hope and commitment, John reached for Amelia's hand, intertwining their fingers as they shared a silent vow to face whatever challenges lay ahead together. 

With her father's reluctant approval and her mother's warm encouragement, Amelia felt a sense of peace wash over her. She knew that John was the one for her, and together, they would navigate the complexities of life no matter what.

Weghorst is fit fight me

Hot take but… “Gale was a teen soldier who got brainwashed, by a manipulative dictator, into the idea that sacrificing a small number of troops was worth it to definitively stop the government that had spent years ruining the lives of him and his people” and “Gale’s gross disregard for human life directly led to the death of Prim and thousands of other civilians including children, and Katniss is justified in her anger and has no obligation to ever forgive him” are two statements that can and should coexist together.

I'm just uterus with fertile eggs

I’M SALIVATING STOP ITTT