#Batfam oneshot

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

bluetooth j.t.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint

Word Count: 1.2k words

You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.

There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.

You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.

And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.

But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.

You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.

But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.

Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.

"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."

Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—

"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."

You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.

'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'

"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.

Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."

Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."

You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."

Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."

He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."

You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.

"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.

You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.

Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.

You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.

Wait.

THE CAR?!

You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.

Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.

You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.

Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.

'Incoming call: Julie'

Ah, saved by the bell.

*

"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.

"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"

Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."

"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"

A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."

Forever Taglist:

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DC Taglist:

@emmacata

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[captainsophiestark]

Destroy All Comers

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Athena; Wisdom and Warfare

Summary: When Y/N's regular co-coach, Dick Grayson, is called away during an important period in the 8th grade girls' basketball season, Jason Todd has to step in and take his place.

Word Count: 3,124

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Jason's POV

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're the only one available to take my place! Besides, you might actually have fun doing it once you give it a try."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Grayson had a mission overseas coming up, and he'd asked me to take his place. Not as Blüdhaven's vigilante, oh no. As the co-coach for a kid's basketball league.

It was dead last on the list of things I cared about or wanted to do. But Grayson had recently helped me out with a problem of my own, and he'd made it very clear he wasn't above calling in that favor.

"C'mon, Jay. It's only two weeks. Ten practices and one tournament, that's all you have to get through."

I sighed heavily through my nose and stared at the ceiling for a few long beats. Then, I dropped my eyes back to Dick, keeping my expression completely unimpressed.

"Fine. But you better not get hurt on this stupid mission, because I'm not covering for you a single second past that tournament."

****************

Y/N's POV

"Alright, great work! Let's take five for water and then get into our layup drills!"

I smiled and clapped a few of the girls on the back as they headed off the court to their bags on the sidelines. Coaching my little niece's basketball team was one of my absolute favorite activities, and I'd been doing it since they were first graders. Now, this was their last year before high school, and we all wanted to go out on a high note. We had a tournament in two weeks that would help set us up nicely for the end of the season if it went well for us.

Every single one of us was absolutely locked in.

Every one of us, of course, except my co-coach.

Dick Grayson, my new best friend since we'd started volunteering together at our family members' school (my niece and his little brother) and I'd managed to rope him into helping me with my niece's basketball team, was my usual co-coach. Unfortunately, he apparently had a big commitment out of town that he couldn't get out of, so he'd be missing the tournament and two weeks leading up to it. I'd been a little upset, and then mostly just teased him for a 'lack of commitment' I knew he didn't actually have before promising to keep him updated on everything. His replacement, however, I was starting to have a real problem with.

Dick told me he'd convinced one of his brothers to fill in for him this week, just so I wouldn't be left wrangling a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year-olds alone. Dick had spoken very highly of him, but he was currently half an hour late to his first practice, and I was starting to get a bad feeling that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

Just as the thought floated through my mind, I heard the doors to the gym swing open. I looked up to see a tall, muscle-y guy with a leather jacket stride through the door. Dick had told me they weren't biological brothers, but even with the white streak in this guy's otherwise jet black hair, I knew he was Dick's brother. He came to a stop in front of me, and I might've been a little thrown off by his good looks if I wasn't also so pissed.

"Coach Y/N, I take it?" he asked, holding out a hand for me to shake. I just scowled back at him.

"Yeah. And you're Mr. Thirty Minutes Late To Practice."

The guy–definitely Jason Todd, since he didn't correct me–narrowed his eyes slightly as he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Yeah, sorry. It was kind of a rough night."

I took a second to breathe in deeply, then let the breath out through my nose. This guy was Dick's brother, after all, and for all I knew he might've had a perfectly good reason for being late. I made myself meet his eyes and forced down some of the impatience I'd been feeling.

"Jason. It's good to meet you. Thank you for volunteering while Dick's gone." He nodded and shifted on his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. I sighed. "How much do you know about basketball?"

"Some," he said with a shrug. "I played for a little while when I was really young, and I watch it sometimes now, but that's it."

"Alright. Well, for today, I'm just going to have you run the girls through some simple drills like defensive slides and foot fires while I work on plays and some specific moves with the other half. Deal?"

"Sure."

I turned to share the new plan with the girls, but stopped and turned back again after a few steps. Jason still slouched a few feet away from me looking disgruntled.

"Listen, Jason? I really do appreciate the help, but... the girls and I take this very seriously. If you can't do that for the next two weeks... I think we might be better off without you."

I turned before Jason could really even react, not particularly interested in a comeback. The girls were waiting for me, after all, done with their water break and ready to get back into the action.

We split off into separate groups for the next hour, Jason running drills the girls probably could've done on their own while I worked with a few at a time on more position-specific drills. Finally, with half an hour left, we took one more break before it would be time to spend the last half hour scrimaging. I stood off to one side mentally making the first two groups of five, but stopped my mental planning when Jason wandered over to me, looking more than a little tired.

"How you holding up?" I asked, only half trying to conceal a smile and laugh. Jason huffed.

"They're insane," he said, slumping against the wall next to me and crossing his arms. "They interrupted me five times in the first drill to tell me I was explaining it wrong. And they were mean about it, too!"

I didn't even bother trying to hide my smile this time. "Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said they took this seriously. It helps to have another adult in their area when I'm doing other stuff, but... they could probably run those drills themselves."

Jason gave a thoughtful hum, but didn't say anything else. I gave him a second and finished making the first set of teams in my head, then stepped to the middle of the court and clapped my hands.

"Alright girls! Let's get this scrimmage going!"

We flew through the last half hour of practice, all of the girls in excellent form. Jason kept watching, seeming much more interested and engaged than before, but he didn't chime in with anything. For the last two minutes, we practiced wild half-court shots "just in case" (and mostly for fun), then huddled up at center court as the parents started to arrive.

"Alright, great practice today everybody, as usual," I said. Even though it was the end of practice, no one looked like they were itching to go; everyone stayed laser-focus locked on me. "Now that today is over, we officially have nine practices left before our tournament next weekend. That means nine practices to get as good as we can possibly get."

The girls hooted and hollered, and our captain, Angie, chimed in.

"And to get ready to destroy all comers!"

The other girls cheered for her statement, and I grinned.

"Damned right. You girls are incredible, and should already be so proud of how far we've come. The other teams aren't gonna know what hit 'em next weekend!"

A chorus of "yeah!"s.

"Good! Now, what team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

"Alright! We'll see you girls tomorrow!"

They all cheered, wished me a good night, and wandered off to find their parents. I watched them go with a smile as Jason wandered up to my side.

"That's not how I remember the High School Musical cheer going."

I shrugged. "Our mascot's the wildcats, but we're our own entity. Our own, slightly more cutthroat entity."

"I like it."

I finally turned to look at Jason and found him already staring at me with a mischievous smile.

"Listen, I know I wasn't very helpful today," he started. I snorted, but gave him a small smile so he knew I was mostly teasing. "But, if you'll let me... I have a couple ideas that might help over the next few weeks."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?"

****************

"Okay girls, lean into the contact! Stand your ground, really let your opponent push into you and push right back!"

I smiled as I watched Jason work with the girls. For our second practice together, he'd come early to walk me through a more detailed plan of some ideas he'd had. Like Dick, he had better experience than me with physical training and the best way to help other people strengthen themselves and specific areas. Unlike Dick, he'd immediately leaned into my more ruthless energy, and had come up with a new strategy we were in the middle of implementing.

Within a few seconds, Group A–the offensive group–stepped away from their partners. Group B, the defenders, stumbled and, in some cases, even fell. Jason beamed around at all of them.

"Great work, that's exactly what we want. Ref can't call you for anything, and the other team'll think a little harder before laying all over you in the paint again."

The girls' feral grins were response enough to tell me how they felt about that new strategy. I couldn't help mirroring their expressions as they went to get water and I went to stand by Jason.

"Nice work," I said. Jason turned to grin at me, and my heart skipped a beat in a way it never did when I coached with Dick. "I've gotta say, day one was rough, but I love the energy you've been bringing since."

"What, you're telling me Dick didn't bring the scorched-Earth energy?" he joked. I chuckled, shrugging at the thought of my usual partner being paired with the phrase "scorched-Earth".

"Dick came up with some absolutely insane yet somehow effective strategic trick plays," I said. "He's always a positive, encouraging energy, especially when the rest of us get a little too intense. But yeah, his usual role is the balance to our bloodthirstiness."

Jason nodded. "Sounds like him. Usually, at least."

I squinted a little at that as Jason stared off at the far wall, but then he shook his head and turned back to me. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and I swear it was contagious as I mirrored him. Then, he spoke.

"I'm planning on bringing a slightly different energy to the team."

****************

"Alright girls, this is it!" I cried, staring around at the huddle of intense, focused faces around me. "We win this, and we not only win the tournament, but we're set up with the number one seed for the postseason. You've played amazing so far, and nobody can take that away from you. Keep it up for the rest of this game, and let's finish this thing!"

Everyone nodded as I spoke, an excited fire flickering in every person's eyes. After two weeks of practice and some new strategies from Jason, we'd spent Saturday carving through our early opponents like they were nothing. Now, after a long Sunday, we'd battled our way to the championship game. We'd gone into halftime tied, and the next two quarters would be everything for us.

If Dick were here, he would've referenced the "Sixteen Minutes" song from High School Musical, since that's how much game time we had left. But he wasn't here, and Jason and I both had different things on our minds.

"We're tied, which means we can take this as a fresh start," I continued. "Go out there and outplay them for the next two quarters, and it's ours. Leave it all on the floor and show them just who they're messing with."

The girls cheered, and I glanced up at Jason.

"Coach? Anything to add?"

"Yeah. I've only been here two weeks, but that was enough to realize that this team is full of the toughest, scariest competitors I've ever seen. So go out there, show no mercy, and crush anybody that tries to stand in your way!"

The girls and I all roared in approval, and Jason's feral grin fit right in with all of us. It was hard to believe he'd really only been here two weeks; he seemed like part of the team that'd always been here.

The buzzer sounded behind us, signaling it was time to retake the court.

"Alright girls, let's do this!" I shouted. "What team?"

"Wildcats!" screamed everyone, Jason included, at the top of their lungs.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

The girls clapped as our starters headed out onto the floor and Jason and I shifted to stand next to each other at the front of the bench, just off the court.

"See the looks we just got from the opposing team?" asked Jason with a grin. Behind him, the other players and coaches were still giving us side-eye and concerned looks. I smiled.

"Oh yeah. The intimidation mind game is half the reason for that cheer."

"Nice."

Jason and I fist-bumped, and then turned our attention back to the game as it got underway. One way or another, this was it.

Despite the intimidation to start the second half, the other team put up a great fight. It wasn't easy, but our girls managed to persevere. Jason went wild whenever one of them used a move he'd taught, and we both spent the game screaming from the sidelines with encouragement, play calls, and just a bit of extreme, "destroy all comers" mindset. In the end, we won by eight. All our girls rushed the court, screaming and celebrating, then tamped it down long enough to be good sports and go through handshakes with the other team. Afterwards, we all gathered in a corner of the gym to do a debrief before the celebrations continued.

"Alright, I'll keep this short since I see your parents waiting to join in the celebration," I said, grinning around at my team. "You guys played amazing. You should be so, so proud of yourselves. I know I'm crazy proud of you. You worked your butts off, put it all out on the floor, and won the tournament! We've still got plenty of work ahead of us before the season's over, but that's a problem for later. For now, celebrate! Celebrate yourselves, this victory, and everything we've accomplished as a team."

The girls smiled and nodded through my speech, and when I finished, they paused before going off to their celebrations to each give me a tight hug. Then, one by one, they did the same to Jason. A few of the girls who'd used his moves thanked him for his help, and most of them paused to tell him they'd miss him. I just watched as Jason's face went from shocked, to slightly uncomfortable, to a bit of a frown.

He waved the last girl off, watching them go. Slowly, I sidled up to him, watching our team meet up with their friends and parents. I gave him a second, then sighed.

"I need to call Dick," I said. "I promised him I'd let him know how the tournament came out, like, seven times before he left, he was so upset to miss it."

Jason just gave a little noncommittal "hm" without looking at me. I watched him for a second, still staring after our team, then continued.

"You know... a lot of teams in our league have three coaches, not just two." Jason snapped his head around to look at me with wide eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you have to, but... I think the girls seriously love you, and it looks like you had fun. I'm sure Dick wouldn't mind if you wanted to... stick around?"

Slowly, his expression morphed into a smile, and his eyes slid from me back to where the girls were high-fiving and reliving the weekend. He stood a little straighter, his smile widening, and then he turned back to me with a glint in his eye. Not for the first time since I started working with him, my heart skipped a beat.

"I've got a question before I agree," he said. I raised an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue. "Is there any rule about coaches asking each other on dates?"

Now it was Jason's turn to watch with a grin while I managed a shocked expression. After a few seconds, a smile started tugging at my lips as I processed his words. Before I could answer, he held up his hands and continued.

"I'm asking, of course, to see if I need to wait until the end of the season. Grayson may be good at the peppiness and creative trick plays, but clearly this team thrives with coaches as ruthless as them."

I beamed at him, my heart floating in my chest. "Fortunately for us, there's no rule against coaches going on dates. The girls are gonna be merciless teasing us about it though. They were relentless for weeks when Dick first joined the team, and we weren't actually dating."

Jason smiled and took a step closer to me.

"I think we can handle them."

"Mmm, I'm not sure you're right, but I'm willing to do it anyway."

"You wanna go get drinks now? Celebrate a little for our first date?"

"I'm in." He held out his hand to me and I took it, then held up my phone with my other hand. "Just let me call Dick before we go."

Jason nodded, and I dialed Dick's number on FaceTime. Jason leaned over my shoulder, our arms linked together and a massive grin on his face. The phone rang for a long time, then finally, Dick's face appeared on screen. He looked a little tired and rumpled, but he smiled when he saw us.

"Hey guys! How'd it go?"

"We won!" I shouted.

"You've got a new co-coach, Dickie Bird!" shouted Jason at the same time.

Dick laughed, then beamed back at both of us through the camera. "That's great! Jay, I'm glad you ended up loving it as much as I thought you might."

Jason grinned. "Yeah, well, before I started you forgot to mention the cutthroat team energy."

Dick grimaced a little as Jason went on, probably realizing he now had TWO insane co-coaches to try to balance out, but I just smiled. For the rest of this season, I'd be working with my favorite kids in the world, my best friend, and a possible new boyfriend.

No one else in the league was going to stand a chance.

[simpforfandoms]

Sign of the Times

This is literally the song of Achilles, legit plagiarism. All respect to Madeline Miller. I reread it, still as good as the first time reading it.

pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: When you died, all things soft and beautiful would be buried with you.

warnings: ooc dick, plagiarism (all creds to Madeline Miller), does not follow canon

masterlist

“Name one hero who was happy.” He says, laying down in the field with you.

You considered it. “You can't.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward. “I can't.” You echoed. “I know. They never let you be famous AND happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." You loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took your pinky and interlaced it with his. "Promise it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason.” He said as a matter of factly, “promise it." "I promise," You said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I know I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you," he stated. You and he sat like that for a moment, hands touching.

…

Joker was on the loose again. This time taking over Gotham. Bruce, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Duke, and Stephanie were all in danger. Dick is their only hope now.

“Don’t let them die because of his madness. They have done nothing but love you.”

"Love me? Not one of them stood with me against Bruce. Not one of them defended me." The bitterness in his tone shocked you. "They stood by and let him insult me. As if he were right! I have been there for them for years and their repayment is to get rid of me." His eyes had gone dark and distant. "They have made their choice. I have made mine."

"They’re still our family!”

"They can save themselves." He would have walked away, had you not grabbed his arm.

"You are destroying yourself. Please, if you-"

"Y/n." The word was sharp, as he had never spoken it. His eyes looked down on you, "I will not do this. Do not ask again."

You try to find the words to get through to him. Maybe there was none. He would not fight. They would die with no mercy. You search your brain for anything at all that could reason with him.

“For me then,” you said, “Save them for me.”

He looked down at you. You saw what your words had meant to him. The struggle in his eyes. He swallowed.

“Anything else? Anything. But not this. I can’t”

You looked at his beautiful face, “if you love me-“

“No!” He yelled. “You do not get to do that. You don’t get to pick and choose what battles you want me to fight.”

“Fine then. Their blood will be on your hands.” You let out.

He huffs and then leaves for the bedroom. You watch him leave. Your stomach feels burned to cinders; your palms ache where your nails have cut into them. Your rage towards him is hot as blood. You will never forgive him, you think. You imagine locking yourself in the bathroom, smashing every picture you have together, then stabbing yourself in the stomach and bleeding to death. You want to see his face broken with grief and regret. You want to shatter the cold mask of stone that has sipped down over the boy you knew. You do not know this man. He is no one you have ever seen before. A once innocent boy is now consumed by an unexplainable rage. He has given up on them. His family. Deliberately sending them off to their doom. If he does not help them, then you will.

…

A series of events have led you to your current situation. Your hand lifted, holding a gun in threat. One thing led to another and now you're pointing a gun at Joker.

You imagine how Dick would do it, feet planted to the ground, back muscles twisting. He would throw the gun and take down Joker in a more reasonable way. Without death. But you are not Dick. What you do is something, your only chance at survival. His henchmen are almost there. You’re wasting time. You shoot the pistol.

It hits his head. You have killed the Clown Prince of Crime, the joker. You hear the shouts, men swarming around you. You had lost control. Killing a man with no remorse. Someone you never imagined doing. The worst part is that you do not feel regret. This is the man that for years has killed innocent people. For years had tortured your family. Your only med of survival now is to run.

You lunge on your feet. Through the haze of terror, you see a man firing a gun at you. You dodge the bullet, shocked you are not dead already. You have never been so fast in all your life. Wally would be proud.

Then, a bullet comes from behind. You do not see it, but you hear it. It pierces the skin of your back. You stumble, driven forward by the blow's force, by the shock of the tearing pain and the burning numbness in your stomach. The blood gushes out onto your shirt. You think you scream.

“She’s mine.” You hear a cold voice.

The blood runs through your hands onto the earth below. The henchmen part and you see a woman in purple walking toward you. You know her. Punchline. Alexis Kaye. Joker’s girlfriend. She does not look at the men who surround her; she walks as if she were alone on the battlefield. She is coming to kill you, as a reparation for your sin.

Your breaths are shallow gasps that feel like new wounds tearing. Desperately, you turn to the men around you and scrabble at their knees.

“Please,” you croak. “Please.”

She is close now, her gun raised. The only sound you hear is your own heavy lungs. Punchline's gun lifts over you. And then it fires towards you.

“No.” You scream, to no avail.

Your hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to stop the bullets' relentless movement toward your heart. It submerges in a sear of pain so great that your breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over your whole body. Your head drops back against the ground, and the last image you see is her, leaning over you, smiling a sadistic smile, one that will haunt you. The last thing you think of is Dick. Oh, how you love him.

…

As soon as Dick realized you had left he rushed over to Gotham. He was so angry at himself for not listening to you. If he did, you wouldn’t be put in harm's way. He texted every member of his family to be on the lookout for you. Praying to the heavens above that you were safe. By the time he arrives, the people are celebrating. Joker is dead.  The battle is won, but the war is far from over.

He knows he should feel relieved and happy, but he cannot. There is a numbness in him. Something has happened. What? He does not know. You will be able to tell him. He’s sure of it. Still, the pit in his stomach lingers. He cannot help but feel worried.

Then he gets a text from Jason saying they found you and to go to the Batcave immediately.

So he does. The worry only grows as he rushes out of his car.

Then he sees it.

A blood-stained cloth on top of a body. The realization crashes upon him, making him lose his breath. He runs towards the body, throwing Jason and Bruce out of the way. He falls onto the body.

Your body.

He removes the cloth just to make sure his thoughts are not deceiving him. A scream erupts. And then another, and another. He hastily cradles your head in his hands. He says your name. Over and over again. Until it is the only sound.

Bruce urges him to let go of you. But he would not let go of you. He cannot. He holds you so tightly, your dead body can feel his heartbeat. He weeps. He cradles you. He can not speak another word other than your name. His tears fall but you cannot wipe them.

It’s all his fault. He should’ve just listened to you. He should have been there. He was selfish and arrogant.

Eventually, he utters something other than your name.

“Who did this?” His voice is a terrible thing, cracked and broken

“Punchline,” Damian says.

Dick’s gaze hardens. Fantasizing about all the ways he can exact his revenge. Bruce takes a step forward, placing his hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Dick yells.

Bruce draws back, watching his grip grow tighter on you, “don’t kill her.”

Instead of replying Dick just looks at him with so much anger and regret.

“She’ll kill you, Dick.”

“Do you think I don’t want that?” He looks up to Bruce, blood, your blood all over him. A truly broken man sits before Bruce. A man that has lost everything.

He had lost you. His love. His soulmate. His world.

Gone.

Irrevocably and forever.

…

“Punchline!” he screams. “Punchline!”

He tears through the henchmen guarding her, shattering collar bones and faces, marking them with his fury.

Punchline calls attention to herself by running away. Any other day she would take him on, but this time he is consumed by a rage that she has never seen. It scares her. No one thinks that it is cowardly for her to run. She will not live if she is caught. She knows that. Chest heaving, she races towards the fire escape. Dick runs to follow. Then a figure emerges. Shaped like a man in a bat suit.

Nightwing’s face is consumed by rage, “you will not keep her from me.”

“Killing her won’t end your pain.” The dark knight says.

Dick steps closer to him and raises his fists. Batman swings his fist. Nightwing ducks then rolls forward over the returning whistle of a second swing. He gains his feet and strikes, whipping toward Batman’s chest. Easily, almost casually, the knight twists away.

Batman attacks. His punches force Dick backward. He must spring away at each punch. Dick eventually finds the space to counterattack. Batman catches every blow, forcing Dick to move faster and faster. Bruce is old, he knows every trick there is in the book, and there is nothing new to him. Nightwing begins to slow, worn out from the fighting. Batman seems to be relieved at how often he seems to duck rather than meet his blows. Dicks face is contorted with effect and focus. He is fighting at the edge, at the very edge of his power. He is not, after all, Batman.

He’s gathering himself, preparing one final blow, a desperate attack. He begins the pass, fists blaring toward Bruce’s head. For a second, Bruce must dodge to avoid it. That is the moment he needs. He grabs a discarded piece of rumple and strikes. A gash flowers in Bruce’s side. He will not die though. But he must limp away, weakened and weary.

Dick’s face is sweat-streaked, his breaths harsh, but he continues running.

“Punchline!” He screams.

The hunt begins again. It is only punchline he wants. Punchline, and Punchline alone. When she is dead, he will stop.

There is a roof on top of the building. Too tall to jump off of. Too late to turn back. It is there that Alexis stops running. Two people face each other. One of them is light. She wears a purple and black outfit with red cheeks painted red.

The other one’s face is twisted almost beyond recognition. His blood still pumping from his fight with his father figure. Alexis’ eyes are wide, but she will not run any longer.

She says, “Grant me this, bury me with Joker when you have killed me.”

Dick makes a choking sound, “There is no comprise. I will kill you then I will burn you to insure you can never come back.”

He leaps forward with a knife he has been holding and slices her throat. Letting her bleed out to death. Just like how she let you bleed to death.

…

Dick returns to the cave, where your body waits. His hands are bloody. His family is waiting for him. They know not to say anything. It is done. The war is over. But at what cost?

It is Alfred that breaks the silence, “go bathe and rest yourself, master Dick.”

Dick pushes through them and heads up to the manor.

…

Your eulogy was beautiful. Dick could not bring himself to do it, knowing your death was his fault. He made Jason do it. Knowing you were the closest with him. You had no biological family, but you often referred to them as your family. And they truly were. Everyone adored you and loved you. At the after-party, Dick just sits on the sofa staring off into space, now and then looking up and thanking people for their condolences.

“Master Richard” Alfred calls him, holding a plate, “will you not eat?”

“You know I won’t.”

Alfred touches his hand to his shoulder. He flinches.

“Stop”

Alfred’s face goes blank for a second.

When he speaks, his voice is hard, “You have killed her and taken your vengeance. It is enough. Stop punishing yourself.”

“It will never be enough,” Dick says.

“It is the greatest grief to be left on earth while the other one is gone. But let there be comfort in the fact that her memory will live on.” Alfred states.

Dick sighs. He knows that after this he must go home to an empty house. Pictures reminding him of you. He can’t do it anymore. He won’t. Life is unbearable without you. He was stupid to take you for granted. He had spent his whole life loving you. He has no idea how to live it without you. Perhaps he isn’t supposed to.

…

Word spread to Blüdhaven what Nightwing had done. Nightwing was now not a foe to death. Many villains, fearing for their life, escaped to neighboring cities where they know they will not be killed. But oh not Blockbuster. He’d kill Nightwing before he ever got the chance to kill him. Blockbuster aims. Then the bullet flies, straight and silently towards Dick’s back.

He hears the faint hum of its passage a second before it strikes. He turns his head a little, as to watch it come. He closes his eyes and feels it push through his skin, parting muscles, working its way past his ribs. Then, at last, it reaches his heart. Blood spills between his shoulder blades. Thick and crimson. Dick smiles as his face strikes the earth.

…

In the darkness, two shadows reached through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun

[b3ach-bunn7]

READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

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It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 

But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.” 

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

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nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

[teddypines]

Thunderstorm

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Sumary: Cute moment with Batmom!reader and Damian who is afraid of thunderstorm.

Batmom!reader x Damain, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: I don't know Batman lore like i know mcu lore. Everything i know is from the cartoon's i watched as a kid and the fanfic's and webtoon i read. So if somthings are out of charachter, i'm sorry. Also the other boy's live at home i don't care if it isn't canon.

Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

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Damian always acted like he was an adult, because in his eyes he thought he was, even when Y/N knew the boy was far from being an adult. She always tried to give him small moments that normal kids his age had in an attempt to make up for the things Talia had done in the past. This included letting him come to her if he needed, no matter the time or place.

It was just a normal Friday night in the Wayne household. Y/N was cuddled up to Bruce’s side on the couch. Jason and Dick to her right both bickering about which guy the girl on tv would end up with. Tim was curled up in his blanket on the chair, tiredly typing away on his laptop and Damian was trying to stay close to Bruce’s side but didn’t want to make it obvious that he wanted to cuddle. The rain outside made for a cozy feel for the whole moment, it made Y/N happy. The kids and Bruce are safe at home with her and not out on patrol or fighting crime. 

Y/N sighed as the tv show Jason and Dick were watching was finally over. So she took the remote and quickly turned the channels to look at the weather forecast. “Owh, boy looks like we are going to have a thunderstorm tonight. Good thing I don't have to worry about you all being out.” Y/N said before switching channels again. The fact that it was going to storm didn’t really bother Bruce or the boy’s. Except for Damian, he was stressed internally, but he didn’t want his brothers to know. They would probably laugh if they knew he was scared of a thunderstorm. Y/N looked over at Damian. “Everything okay, Dami?” She asked, the troubled look on Damian’s face made her worry. “Y-yes, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, just tired.” Damian rambled back at Y/N. 

“I think I might go to bed too,” Tim said after Jason left the living room. He closed his laptop and wiggled out of his blanket. He made his way over to Y/N and Bruce, Y/N already opening her arms for Tim. “Night night, Pumpkin” Y/N said to Tim when he was safely in her arms. “Goodnight, momma. Night, dad. Love you” Tim answered, staying in Y/N’s arms for a little while. “We love you too, Pumpkin” Y/N said in between kisses she placed on Tim’s head. Bruce wrapped his arm around Tim too, but only for a moment. “Now off to bed, Pumpkin, don’t want you to fall asleep here again” Y/N said which made Tim reluctantly pull away. Soon After Dick said his goodnights too and left the living room with Tim. 

“I bet little Dami is just scared of the thunderstorm.” Jason commented as he leaned back against the couch, a small smirk spread across his face. "No! I am not scared!” Damian yepped back at Jason, he pouted a bit after. Bruce held back a small laugh at Damian’s pouty face which earned him a jab in the side form Y/N.

“Don’t tease your brother like that, Jay bird and Dami, it's okay if you're scared of thunderstorms” Y/N said hoping to resolve the small situation. Jason grumbled a bit before getting off the couch. "Fine! I'm off to bed.” He wanted to quickly disappear, but Y/N didn’t let him. “Night night, Jay bird” She said with a smile. Jason groaned and quickly hugged her. “Night mom” He whispered to Y/N.

“You should go to bed soon too, Dami, and if the storm scares you it’s okay to come to us. We’ll protect you from the storm” Y/N said in an attempt to sooth Damian’s worry about the upcoming thunderstorm. She reached over Bruce and gently ran a hand over Damian’s head. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry” Damian answered a bit distant. He didn’t want Y/N (or Bruce) to worry about him. “Just know we’re there when you do need us” Bruce said to Damian in a stern but reassuring way. Damain just nodded his head and pulled off the couch. “I’ll be fine, night”

It did upset Y/N just a bit that Damian didn’t get his usual good night hug, but she knew he would be by her side the moment the thunder storm started. Bruce pulled Y/N on top of him and kissed her cheek. “He’ll be back, love” 

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The thunderstorm started around 1:30 AM, just when Y/N found a comfy position next to Bruce. The thunder wasn’t as bad in the beginning, but got worse after 20 minutes. After one particular loud thunder Y/N awoke to the weight shifting on the bed. She opened her eyes and was met with a very scared Damian. “Umi? C-can i stay with you and… and dad?” Damian stuttered through his tears. "Always, baby” Y/N answered. She pulled away from Bruce’s side and turned over so Damian could cuddle against her. “I see you brought mister Moo” Y/N pointed at the plush cow in Damian’s arms. “Maybe…” He whispered, busying himself with finding the best way to lay next to Y/N. Wanting to be as close to her as he could. He slowly closed his eyes but flinched when another thunder strike was heard. 

“Shhh, it’s okay Dami, you're safe in bed with us. No need to be scared, Thor is just a bit extra mad at Loki tonight.” Y/N whispered to Damian. a reassuring hand was placed on Damian’s back. Damian shifted his head to look up at Y/N. “What?” Y/N laughed a bit. “You heard me. Thor is mad at Loki, that’s why the thunder is so loud tonight. Loki probably stabbed him again or tricked him by being a cute snake.” Y/N explained as Damian listened. He knew that what Y/N said was just based on stories and myths, but he liked it. Made the thunderstorm less scary. “Really? Why would Loki do that?” He asked. “Well, Loki really likes attention and sometimes he thinks he doesn’t get enough of it, so he asks for attention. But he does it in the only way he knows how, by being a little shit head and stabbing Thor or tricking the others.” Y/N explained. Bruce groaned a bit as he heard Y/N talk. He turned over and saw Damian hiding against her. 

“Or Thor just stubbed his toe.” Bruce added while propping his arm underneath his head. “Yes, that is possible too” Y/N answered with a small nod of her head. Damian laughed a bit and yawned. “I like that one better, big oof stubbing his toe.”

“Yeah, see now the thunder isn’t so bad is it?” Y/N asked as she yawned as well. Damian only nodded his head in answer. The storm outside was still going on, but Thor just stubbed his toe so that made the thunder more understandable. It was a story, but the story helped Damian feel less scared. 

“Alright, love you” Y/N promised before drifting off to sleep. Bruce smiled at the two. He placed gentle kisses on both their heads before falling asleep as well.

Y/N smiled as she watched Damian fall asleep against her. She turned her head to look at Bruce. “Out like a light,” She said. Bruce smiled and tried to lay back down next to Y/N. “Yeah, but he’s taking all of the comfy spots on the bed” Y/N rolled her eyes and held out her hand for Bruce to hold. “Tomorrow night you can sleep against me again.” Y/N reassured Bruce while he held onto her hand. “Fine, but I expect extra cuddles then!”

[impyssadobsessions]

Ahh I'm so glad I got to draw this! The Guess that Artist event in Haunting Heroes discord really gave me a reason to revisit this oneshot, Some Things You Just Can't Speak about by starfirez. Its just such a cute short story. I tried to make the change obvious. And I know the lighting doesn't show, but I purposely made Jason's palette red and Dick's cool tone to match who he was going to turn into >w< There somethings im not completely happy with but I adore how baby jason came out <3

Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About (4399 words) by starfirez Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Batfamily (DCU), playstation as a metaphor for love, just run with it please, Sibling Bonding Summary: "Go away Bruce, I ain’t talking to you," Jason said hotly. "Not Bruce," Dick replied, trying not to be offended by the mistake as Jason lifted the sheet to examine him. "Just me." "Yeah," Jason agreed, almost bitterly. "Just you." The more things change, the more they stay the same.

[leoivys]

𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff and mostly batfam stuff instead of just romance

– summary; a casually chaotic Secret Santa with the bat family as Jason's partner.

– word count; 1.5k

The roofs of the houses were beginning to gain a white hue as more snowflakes fell gracefully – the children in the city found joy in it, their laughter echoed in the streets while they initiated snowball fights with their friends and neighbors. Adults were busy shopping or grabbing a coffee to catch up in the presence of their loved ones, and the holiday music played in every street. Christmas was known for bringing even the most distant people back together.

A part of you hated how cold it was, but it was your idea to take a walk around the city with your partner before you drove over to the manor for Christmas day like you usually do. However, how can one ignore such events on these joyous days just for their own comfort?

The fuzzy feeling of the gloves around your hands and your coat enveloping you in its warmth was rather enjoyable even if the world outside was freezing while you walked with Jason. A soft sigh escaped you as you finally entered Wayne Manor, welcomed by Alfred opening the door for you and the heat that escaped the inside of the building.

Greetings, hugs, and smiles were exchanged with more excitement than usual while you took your seat on the couch in the main living room amongst the rest of the family – everything was decorated; the tree that you all helped set up, stockings on the fireplace with everyone's names engraved on the soft red fabric and no one can skip Alfred's baked goods resting on the coffee table.

It's odd thinking that a few years back, most of the family members were off doing their own thing instead of being here and spending time with everyone else like Jason avoided them for a good few years before he finally gave in. Now, everyone was present and agreed to have a Secret Santa along with the rest of the activities scheduled for that day.

Tim and Damian were surprisingly getting along, wearing matching Christmas sweaters as well, and then you noticed Dick supervising the two with a proud smile drawn on his face as he kept a conversation with Jason and Steph. Duke was helping Alfred bring in more sweets on the table. Cass and Barbara were calmly chatting with you about various topics and the one at hand; who was Secret Santa for who?

Meanwhile, Bruce observed everyone with a hint of a smile and a sigh as the place filled with chatter and the life it lacked most of the year due to responsibilities, his shoulders relaxed as he was more than happy to host this event annually and welcome his family –and those who he considered family– home.

“Alright everyone, enough of your chit chats. Let's start.” Dick stated, too excited to wait even further as he quickly moved to grab a present from under the tree and took a moment to read the name on it and handed it to Cass, and then kept handing out presents to everyone.

Each family member got something based on their personality, training, or hobby, and some presents were filled with meme cards describing them. Eager chuckles echoed in the room before Bruce interrupted.

“Who got that for Damian?” He asked in a mockingly firm tone as he pointed at the young boy swaying a katana similar to the one he had when he got trained by his grandfather in his hands. Just before anyone could answer, Barbara did everyone a favor and started playing Christmas music through the speakers set by the tree.

Jason scoffed at the sight of Bruce's dynamic with Damian – it had been a while since a youngling had given him a heart attack, enjoying the show and unwrapping his present. His hands traced the hardcover of the book as he lifted it up and read the title; ‘All the light we cannot see’ which had him confused for a moment. He had that book in his library already, didn't he? So he studied it further, flipping through the first few pages only to find that not only was it a first edition copy, but it was signed too.

His eyes flicked to you as his hands traced the sign on the delicate page of the book before he snapped the book closed with a smile brighter than the star atop the tree. Jason immediately knew that his gift was from you since he had been ranting about how much he wanted this for the past month or so. His suspicions were confirmed by the smile on your face.

It was really hard to find it online and get it signed just for him, but you knew it would be worth it.

“You didn't.” Jason mumbled, finding the fact that he had this book in his hands as he clutched onto it like it might disappear into thin air.

The known-for-his-violent-ways Red Hood was now acting like a literal child on Christmas, completely awestruck and bringing you in a tight hug as he muttered his thank you's. His attitude earned a chuckle from you, his embrace giving you even more warmth while his heart was beating out of his chest.

Duke blinked a few times. The newest addition to the family was having a hard time trying to process the sight before him. “Is Jason okay, or is he having some sort of cardiac arrest?” he managed to mutter, his gaze shifting to everyone else laughing at his question.

Your gift consisted of newly made gadgets, upgraded equipment, and a personal touch with a vintage Polaroid to top it off – definitely Tim's job.

Yet you couldn't help but be thankful for those, given Dick's situation; shirts that were literally merchandise about his butt, an eye mask for power naps, and a ‘big brother manual’ book. “Whose idea was this?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in mock annoyance, a small smile brightening his fine features.

“That's a brilliant idea, Dick.” Jason chimed in, not bothering to hide his usual smug smirk. It was definitely him who thought of that combination as a good Christmas gift for his older brother.

Meanwhile, Barbara wasn't having it easy either, with the present in her hands containing a vintage phone and a custom Lego set of Oracle. “A Nokia? Really?” She asked, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she turned to face Steph. “You're lucky I like Lego sets, but you're stuck in this with me.” Barb threatened playfully as she set the box by her side.

Stephanie raised her hands in the air in mock surrender, she didn't seem to mind the idea of building a custom Lego set in the company of Barbara; in fact, it was a good opportunity to spend a girl's night along with you and Cass while having a chit chat – or gossiping. “It's for emergencies. And the Lego set was cute.” She explained with a shrug.

“Fine. You'll see how cute it is when you have to build this many pieces.” Barb protested, her tone lacking real bite as she pointed back at the amount of pieces written on the box. “You're all invited to our suffering.” She commented jokingly, glancing at you and Cass.

Cass perked up at the idea, “I'll bring the snacks.” She said simply, her voice soothing as ever even as it held a bit of enthusiasm as she gave Barbara a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Dick was flipping through the pages of the manual and hastily reading the contents before he could comment on them. “Who wrote this?” He scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, and continued reading. “...’Always take responsibility for your siblings' mess-ups.’ Really, Jason?”

Jason leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as an amused huff escaped him. “Merry Christmas, Dick.”

Tim studied the merch, trying his best to bite back his laughter at what his eyes met while Duke observed alongside Damian, who decided to address the situation accordingly. “That was uncalled for, even by your appallingly low standards, Todd.”

Dick sighed and shook his head once more, yet he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he couldn't help but find the situation entertaining. “You're so getting payback next year. And I'm rigging the draw.” He stated as he tried on his nap mask with a proud smirk.

Bruce, sitting quietly by the fireplace with Alfred whom he had exchanged gifts with, took another sip of his coffee and sighed, allowing himself a small chuckle as he watched the banter unfold. He was prouder than he'd care to admit, of everyone in the room.

“Everyone, pause.” You interrupted every party in the room as you took hold of your brand-new Polaroid and held it out for a selfie, trying to make sure everyone was in the frame. “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’.” You exclaimed with pure excitement and messily snapped a picture, holding the moment forever captive.

– a/n; Merry Christmas and happy holidays in general ♡

[siddyyyyyyyy]

By the Fireplace

BRUCE WAYNE X READER

MDNI wc: 1.2K summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend. warnings: alcohol comsumption, dry humping a/n: It's not perfect but it's also nearing midnight so i don't care. Enjoy!!

It‘s been a relaxing evening so far, hanging out with your long time best friend in his lounge by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, and some deep talk. Bruce will never openly admit it, but he feels like you are the only one who understands him. While being slightly drunk, it‘s easier to relax and shut his mind off. Especially sitting beside you on the comfortable couch; he wants to stay like that forever.

The shared comfortable silence almost makes him fall asleep, but his mind can‘t seem to find complete peace beside you. Even when his head is leaning against the top of your head, he can‘t seem to fully relax yet.

You feel almost the same. You do feel relaxed, safe even, but something keeps stirring inside of you when you are so close to him. Ignoring it and taking another sip of your drink, you watch the fireplace crackle contentedly in front of you.

Bruce sighs out beside you, indicating his tiredness after talking about everything and nothing for hours.

»Want a refill?«

He leans off of you for the first time in probably half an hour and reaches for the whiskey bottle by the coffee table. You shrug and sit up more, letting him fill your glass with the dark liquid.

His movements are slightly disoriented, but he manages to get all the liquid into your glass, and then get more for himself. With a low hum, Bruce sips on his drink, eventually leaning back on the couch. His once perfectly put together appearance became more dishevelled, some strands of hair sticking out in different directions while his tie is resting somewhere in the room; long forgotten.

You also take another quick sip, already used to the bitterness and set it aside for now.

»So… I think it‘s time to go, isn‘t it?«

The time on your phone shows that it‘s well past one am, but Bruce thinks otherwise. A small whine leaves him, completely uncharacteristic normally, but very on point in his drunken state.

»C‘mon, you‘ve only been here for what… two hours?«

He sways on his spot as he leans up and turns to face you fully.

It‘s not exactly true, you‘ve been in his living room for six hours by now, talking nonsense with each other. Gossiping, mostly.

But with your intoxicated brains it‘s hard to tell anymore. So, logically, you sigh out and give in. How could you resist your best of bestest friend anyway?

»A few more minutes, then...«

And that‘s how easily you can make him smile again. It‘s crooked and his eyes are mostly unfocused, but he is satisfied with your easy compliance. And tonight, he seems to be bolder with his actions.

»C‘mere… please,« sighing out, he opens his arms and almost tackles you down with his hug, »such a good friend.« He mumbles against your shoulder, basically squeezing you tight with his arms. If it wouldn‘t been the alcohol, you would‘ve pushed him away by now and pretend to find the physical affection cringe. Not that he does it a lot, only rarely when he is sure you are both absolutely alone.

A second after, you hug him back and sigh out in relaxation. You both melt together into one not too long after, refusing to let go of the other while basking in the comfort.

»I‘m definitely sleeping here tonight.«

You are not sure if you refer to his arms or couch, not caring at this point. He takes your words seriously and squeezes you lightly, almost making your breath hitch.

»Mhm… damn right, you will.«

His voice drops lower, getting into a low whisper as he keeps you close to his chest, refusing to let go of the comfort and sweet scent of you.

Even though you didn‘t mean your words at first, you find yourself quickly accepting the fact that this night will be spend here. Hell, you wouldn‘t mind falling asleep right now like this.

A small groan leaves him and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck, searching for more warmth and most importantly your scent. He needs to make sure you are actually still there and not just a silly imagination he came up with.

Following his actions, you wrap you arms tighter around his neck, shifting to press closer. Your clouded brain can‘t help it, neither does his own and soon enough, your limbs are tangled with the other in a more chaotic way. Thanks to Bruce‘s master-brain, he finds a more comfortable position and lets you straddle his lap.

Finally seated, you both relax and simply enjoy the presence of the other. You don‘t know what changed exactly, but in the next minute he is all over you.

Hands groping gently at your curves and fats, lips tracing your skin down your neck and shoulder. Your shirt seems to be in the way, but he is also too lazy to tug it off just yet.

Your brain catches up on what‘s happening and by the time he already started, you can‘t just stop. Acting by logic and pure desire, you give into the act and tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his head around a little.

Soon, the room fills his soft grunts and your heavy breathing. His hips desperatly jerk up and try to get friction, but it‘s harder in this position when his chest is pressed against yours and you are also pressed completely against him. Deciding you have enough of the friction that‘s barely even there, you lean him back into the back rest and do it your own way.

Hips grinding and sliding against his crotch earns a groan from both of you. The new friction feels more intense and delicious, soon getting breathless from it. His hands settle on your thighs and the small of your back, guiding you in a steady rythm.

Due to the effect of the alcohol, it‘s actually more sloppy than anything, but you both couldn‘t care less. It‘s sloppy, messy, hungry, whatever; you both need this.

Your heavy breaths turn into small whimpers, getting him riled even more than he already is. And then it happens, the final knot snapping without warning. You never came so fast before, maybe it‘s your intoxicated brain, maybe it‘s just Bruce alone, but it feels heavenly either way.

Your hips stutter and thighs shake on either side of him, and for a moment he stills too. A primal groan leaves him before he grabs onto your hips and continues, the pace faster and rougher. His brain immediately went to mush the second he realised what happened.

»Oh, yeah— s‘ good f‘ me… just like that, a little longer,« Bruce mutters under his breath, sucking new marks against the exposed skin of your neck and suddenly drags your hips painfully slow against him, trying to draw out as many needy sounds from you and milk out as many possible aftershocks from you at the same time.

The way he does it is enough to draw a second orgasm out of you, but your body simply gives out. A few final trembles and jerks, then you slump limp onto him.

Sighing out deeply, he caresses over your back and settles back comfortably with you. Your brain shuts off at the same time and are on the brink of falling asleep until he speaks up, voice low and dangerous.

»That‘s not all, doll… gonna stay the whole night, aren‘t ya?«

←MASTERLIST

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

Cryptid!Jason sketch! This au is so dear to me, idk if I’m tye first to do this but send in asks about him if you want! Ill doodle him more

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

I'm here (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Kissing.

Word Count: 2.7k

Song Rec: I love you, I'm sorry by Gracie Abrams

It was hard to enjoy the cold when Jason was surrounded by the uncomfortable heat of tailpipes and exhaust vents and the bustle of Gothamites around him. He could feel himself break out into a sweat even though he was on the roof of a building, where he had been for the last twenty minutes.

He had taken off his helmet, preferring to keep only his domino on but even then, he felt like he couldn't breathe easy. He could easily blame the city's shitty climate but deep down he knew the reason was across the street from him.

He watched as the lights flicked on; his view obstructed due to the frosted glass that he had begged you to put up. You hated closing the curtains because you felt it made your already small apartment even smaller and he hated the fact that anyone across the street could catch a glimpse into your home.

He could really see the irony in that now as he wished for a better view of your face.

But even without it, he could clearly envision you coming home from a long day, dumping your bag at the door, and kicking off your shoes, refusing to kick off your socks in the same way and instead tossing them into the hamper. Dirty socks were your pet peeve, one that he learnt extremely early into the relationship.

However, you also refused for him to wear shoes in your home, and he hated being barefooted, so you compromised and got him a couple spare socks and a pair of slippers. He wondered if they were still there in the lowest drawer of your shoe cabinet.

You'd immediately sit on the ground to rest your legs after walking four blocks from the subway station instead of a chair because you didn't want your 'outside clothes' to touch your clean furniture.

A melancholic smile spread across Jason's lips as something beautiful, yet painful began to coil around his chest. He loved that he could still remember every single thing about you. It was those little features; the way you'd always forget your towel in the dryer while taking a shower and begging Jason to bring it to you, the tiny welt in the corner on your lips that you got from biting them til they'd bleed, that lock of hair at the back of your head that was a different texture than the rest. It was those that would bring him back to Earth whenever the green of the pit seemed to blind him.

The lines of your body were the only thing he envisioned when he closed his eyes, the mellifluous flow of your voice threading through his eardrums whenever he had any quiet, the heat of your phantom fingertips tracing up his arms and wrapping around his waist as he laid alone in bed.

You haunted him, your memories tormented him, and he wondered if you were in the same boat as him, simply existing but not living. He wondered how you would feel if you heard the deep baritone of his voice now that he's grown into a man, or the heat from his chest when he enveloped your now much smaller form in his arms.

He wondered if you were wondering about him. He wondered if you were lying alone like him or had his side of the bed already been claimed by somebody else. Someone who was smarter and sweeter and better.

The pragmatic side of him told him that he should be happy if you managed to find another. Afterall, he loved you so much if you asked him to carve out his own breaking heart and place it in your palms, he would, if only to see the smile on your face. So, he should be happy if you were happy.

However, rest of him banged against his ribcage with bloody fists, begging for it not to be true.

He scolded himself while his feet mindlessly took him to your apartment building, and he was left staring at the frosted glass of your window.

He knew it would end up this way, he just knew it. When he had first come out from the Lazarus pit, he was adamant not to meet you again, convinced that you would be better off without him.

Then he kept thinking about you and he concluded that he'd only see you once, if only to see that you were doing well and taking care of yourself. And then he'd never tempt himself again.

And then he promised himself he'd only watch you from afar, desperately trying to catch glances of you like a parched man would savour the smallest drop of water.

Then he got even greedier. His heart tugged him so hard that he almost fell off the roof in his haste to grapple across the street and climb down the fire escape til your apartment building.

He promised himself this would be the last. He would stop here. He would only listen to your voice while a wall separated the both of you. He would stop there.

Jason listened to you sing while you washed the dishes, your voice only fading to a dull hum through the wall and his brows furrowed, leaning his forehead against it as he tried to catch every wave of your voice.

Then eventually it was silent, and he stared at his feet for a couple seconds before sighing and beginning to stand.

He didn't know why he continued to come see you. Every time the fleeting glance of you passed, he was left feeling an empty chasm that seemed to drag his stomach into a blackhole. He was unable to get out of bed the next day, despaired by the fact that you were able to go about your day while he was stuck in his own hell.

So, why did he continue to do it? Why did he feel your absence like critters crawling all over his skin and only feeling a semblance of relief when he knows that he's near you? Why can he only feel better when he feels his heart pounding in his chest when he thinks that at any moment you could accidentally spot him where he was hiding even though he'd be constantly disappointed? And yet, he still hoped you'd spot him again.

He'd hear the lights click shut any second now before you crawled into bed, falling asleep while clutching your phone and scrolling through Instagram.

He was always disheartened at the end of these nights, when he realized that he was the only one lingering outside in the cold as he waited for you to notice him, to long for him. But yet again, you managed to get through another day without losing yourself in your grief, unlike him.

Was it really that easy for you to get over him? He was standing outside your apartment, wishing to go back to the nights where you used to invite him in with open arms while you remained oblivious to how much he missed you.

He turned his back to leave when he heard a click and then a noisy squeak of the hinges as you pushed the window open.

Your wide eyes met his stormy blue and you froze.

"Hey, beautiful."

There was a beat of silence between the two of you that was filled with the sounds of Gotham and you continued to stare at him, shocked into a stupor. Finally, it seemed like you were able to knock your consciousness back into your body and you squeezed your eyes shut and began counting backward from ten.

"He’s not really here, (Y/N). Jason is gone. You were there at the funeral. You watched them lower his body into his grave, (Y/N). He's gone. And he's not coming back."

Jason watched your throat bob like a lone acorn down a tempestuous river and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, flared nostrils telling him that you were on the verge of tears. Your fingers curled into a tight grip that had your knuckles turning a shade lighter.

Now he knew why he was so anxious about seeing you again. Why, when one foot had taken a step toward you, the other remained anchored to his spot until you walked past him. While he was worried that you had moved on from him, he was even more terrified to see the effect that his death had on you.

When he came back to Gotham and he realized that he had been erased and replaced by Bruce, it was only easy for him to think you had done the same thing. It was easier for him to think he had been abandoned by the entire world. But he was always scared to find out if he was right, so he kept his distance.

However, he was even more scared to find out that you had been left missing him because of a stupid mistake he had made as a child when you had begged him not to. You had known he was beginning to go off the rails, that he was getting rebellious, and you had begged him not to do anything rash.

He had just taken it as a sign that you didn't believe in him either, that you were just like the others, and he had sought to prove you wrong. He laid on the blood of the warehouse, beaten bloody and waiting for his father to rescue him and wishing that you wouldn't be too despaired by his immature stupidity.

Now watching you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if trying to erase what you had just seen, he felt guilty for putting you in that position. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't have left, he shouldn't have loved you in the first place.

Still, he couldn't move.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, blinking a couple times at the ground before you could raise your head again.

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes began to fill with tears, "That usually works."

"(Y/N)," he whispered, reaching for you put his fingertips stopped right before crossing your windowsill as though there was a physical barrier stopping him from touching you. His hand trembled in the air before he dropped it to his side, "It’s me."

This was something he had been dreaming of every night since coming back. He dreamed of reuniting with you, of touching you again, of loving you again. But now that the opportunity was an inch away from him, he was worried that his last chance at love had died within the flames of the warehouse that night.

You stayed still, eyes flickering over him, starting with the mop of dark curls on the top of his head and raking down his face, the same features you remembered had grown more masculine. You lingered on the different scars littering his skin, analysing every inch of him with concentration that made him want to shuffle uneasily.

Your expression began to melt into uncertainty and longing the more you continued to stare at him before you suddenly gasped and stepped back, "You’re crazy, (Y/N). He's gone, this isn't really happening."

He grasped the window just as you began to close it shut, "Please, don't. I’m here, baby, I’m really here."

You stared at the hand holding your window open with furrowed brows; you hadn't expected this illusion to retaliate against you trying to end this dream.

You never opened the windows of your apartment, especially not at night. You never wanted to invite Gotham’s smog inside your home but for some reason tonight your heart had tugged you toward it with such power you thought a breath of fresh air would have done you some good.

Why? Why tonight of all nights had you opened the window? Had you even opened the window in the first place? Or had this been a cruel game played by your mind while you were asleep?

"You died," you whispered, voice barely above a decibel, "I saw you dead. You aren't really here. This doesn't make any sense."

You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his beating heart underneath your fingertips but you knew that he would evaporate into smoke the second you reached for him like all the other times and even though you knew you would breakdown the second you woke up from the dream, you wanted to continue looking at him and drink in his presence that you had missed so much.

Gloved fingers lifted your chin so your wet eyes could meet his and tears began streaming down your cheeks in thick rivulets, your chest collapsing from the weight of your sobs.

"I know it doesn't make any sense, but I’m here. I’m really here. And I’ve missed you so much."

You shook your head, "You’re not. You're dead."

His arms circled around you, and he brought you into a hug. Your cheek rested against the kevlar of his suit, hips digging into the windowsill as you continued to sob and despite knowing that he wasn't really here, your chest began to fill with warmth.

"I’m here, (Y/N)."

Jason stole what little breath you had left in your lungs when he leant down to capture your lips in a firm kiss, as if trying to prove to you that he was here in the flesh, with fresh blood pumping through his veins.

You sobbed against his lips and licked into his mouth, hands coming up to grasp at his hair while his own curved your back into him, melding your bodies into one.

Heavy boots thumped against your floors, knees knocking in his effort to climb through the window and shut it behind him before pressing you against it. He quickly threw off his utility belt before you had wrapped your legs around his waist to prevent any of his weapons accidentally hurting you.

You cupped his jaw, thumb brushing against the peak of his cheekbone. The action had Jason’s eyes rolling back in ecstasy, every single touch setting his body on fire, each nerve ending sparking with electricity. He kissed you harder, refusing to pull away even though he knew you were getting breathless. He could hear your gasps for air every time you parted but you still dragged him back toward you with a hand clutching the roots of his hair.

He couldn't stop, wanting to lose himself in your very soul. He could feel the heat of your body pressing against him, he could smell the familiar scent of your shampoo, his ears were filled with the sound of your sighs and your lips smacking, his tongue tasted the salt of your tears mixed with the sharp chill of spearmint tea.

He finally pulled away when you had placed a hand on his chest, pressing his forehead against you, watching with intense passion as you tried to catch your breath, his grip on your thighs not loosening.

You trailed wet lips down his throat, listening to his quiet sighs until your lips reached his jugular. You could feel his veins pulse with life underneath your lips and your chest began pounding, butterflies beginning to erupt through you.

"You’re really here? You're alive? H-how is that even possible?"

Jason nodded, only realizing then that his eyes were filling up with tears, lashes and cheeks wet once you had begun to stroke the skin beneath his ear.

"I missed you so much." you confessed, voice breaking and brows furrowing in despair.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn't come sooner, I should've-I should've come sooner. I’m sorry." he whispered, trailing his lips along your shoulder, hiding his face into the crook of your neck and you sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"You’re here," you whispered, chest shaking with a mix of sobs and elated giggles, "You're really here. You're finally here."

You both remained there, your back pressed against the frosted glass window that had fogged up slightly, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, chests pressed together.

"I’m here."

Forever Taglist:

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DC Taglist:

@tchatso

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[ellagasm]

if you‘re reading this, take a moment to stop scrolling and click this to help this person from a devastating event. don‘t be selfish.

[jvsont0dd]

Jason Todd dies so often that he might as well be a Winchester

[b3ach-bunn7]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

You hate your coworker Jason Todd. Despite this, the tow of you have been given the same client and are forced to work together

enemies to lovers, NSFW, office sex, confessions

(This is quite long 😓 a fair warning!)

—————————————————————————

You hate Jason Todd. So much. So impossibly so. 

You’d met three years ago when you’d joined the RH firm. It was one of the biggest in Gotham, known for its impeccable lawyers and cutthroat attitude. You don’t lose a case when you hire someone from RH, and especially not when it’s Jason Todd.

You’d been excited to meet him at first. Any lawyer worth their salt would be. You always looked out for his name in the news, when he’d be on the stand once more. You’d even sat in on one of his trials, watched in awe at the way he commandeered a room, his strong voice bouncing off the walls. There was no doubting, even now with your ever present hatred, that Jason Todd is amazing at what he does.

He’s also so gorgeous.

You’re sure he was some sort of superhero in another life, because he is so jacked. You remember the day the office had gone to the bar on a random Friday, and he’d worn this tight fit short sleeve shirt. And his muscles were almost tearing the fabric, and you’re ninety nine percent sure when he stretched up, the hem of his shirt lifted and he had a six pack hiding underneath there. His hair was greying but it made him look better, soft brown and white curls always perfectly styled over his face. And those eyes. So piercing, so guarded. When he looks at you it feels like he can read every single thought racing through your brain.

It is just such a shame he is so insufferably annoying.

So cocky, so vain. It’s no surprise that he is, most lawyers are. You need to think that you’re the best because that confidence boost does wonders in court. But he is just so annoying with it. Always bragging, always has something smart to say to you. And the worst part is he looks so proud of himself afterwards, a stupid smirk on his face after he successfully pisses you off. 

You can’t even remember when it started. A few days after you’d started, a petty squabble here and there and a disagreement every now and then. You were a strong personality and he wanted everything his way, and it didn’t end well for either of you. The icing on the cake was when you’d been given a case that he had wanted, and it seemed to solidify the little squabbles between you two.

You can hear him before you see him. Footsteps that command respect as they thump up to your door. He doesn’t knock, just swings it open and invites himself in. Shirt perfectly ironed and pressed against the hard planes of his chest. Perfect knot on his tie. It’s not fair he can look this good at work. Your eyes flit over him once more, before you look back down at your screen.

“Knock before you walk into my office.” You snap.

“Woah, what’s with the attitude? It’s still early, love.” 

You scowl at him and the smile on his face widens. You mumble some choice words under your breath and shut your laptop.

“Don’t call me that. And what do you want?”

Jason drops some files on your desk. You flick through them, biting the end of your pen as you scan them quickly. There's a client that needs help settling a dispute over some plot of land in some important part of Gotham. Not that any part of Gotham is that important.

“Is this for me?” When a reply doesn’t come quickly, you glance up, and Jason is just staring at you. 

You wave a hand in the air. “Hello? Did you come in here to stare at me?”

He seems to snap out of it quickly, reaching forward and grabbing the papers from in front of you. “Boss wants us to work on this together.”

Fuck.

“Why?” You groan. “Does he want me to kill myself?” 

“My dreams are not common, unfortunately.”

You make a face at him and he huffs a laugh. “The guy is a real tool. I’ve worked with him before, so be prepared to get pissed off.”

You sit back in your chair, hand over your face. You wave him off. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Meeting is at three.”

“Goodbye.” 

“In conference room B.” 

“Jason Todd, so help me.”

He leaves then, hands up in surrender, ignoring your shouts to shut your door behind him.

You finish up the stuff you need to do, and psyche yourself up for this meeting. You kid yourself that you won’t need to spend that long with Jason. Everything will be fine.

When you walk into the conference room, Jason is already talking to him. Micheal Battersby, a man whose money was the only good thing about him. You don’t like him the second you lay your eyes on him, especially with the leery way he’s looking at you. But you plaster on a smile, holding out a hand and introducing yourself.

“Wow. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He grins at you and his teeth are too white.

“Thank you. I assume Jason’s run over most of the agenda with you?” You decide not to comment too much on his compliment.

When you turn to Jason, he looks angry. He’s clenching his jaw and when his eyes meet yours you almost fall back a bit. But in a moment it’s gone, and he’s back to his customer service smile.

“Yes, the first half.”

You spend the next few minutes working through the rest of your paper with him. Jason doesn’t talk as much as you’d think, just occasionally chimes in when need be. Just when you think you can finish up and get away from Michael’s horrible attempts at flirting, one of the office interns pops her head through the door.

“There’s a phone call for you, Y/N.” 

Of course there is. You turn to the two men, quickly getting up. “I’ll be back shortly.” You smile.

And it’s your mother. Asking when you’ll see her. How she can only ever reach you when she calls your work. 

“Mom, please, I’m busy.” You whisper into the phone, looking back at the rooms door.

“Oh, I won’t be long, darling.”

You entertain her for as long as you can, before you’re rushing back to the conference room. Before you can walk in, Jason storms out the room. He shoves past you and you frown. A peek tells you Micheal is still sitting down, looking a little fussed. Jason’s annoying, but you’d much rather be around him than creepy Micheal, so you quickly rush after him.

“What happened?”

“We’re done. Told him to go home.” He grunts, not even turning to look at you. Irritation laces his voice and you wonder what you missed.

“So now what?”

Jason reaches his office door and sighs irritably. He turns to look at you and you take a quick step back at how close he’s standing. 

“Come to my office at five, we can work on the terms. I’ll set a meeting for tomorrow to give them to him.”

You don’t have time to reply before he’s slamming the door in your face.

—-

Time does not seem to fly waiting for five o’clock to come around. Jason had given you two hours, probably to finish up the work you were doing before, but for some reason you’re so nervous about being alone in his office, that you just sit in your office, thinking.

You play a random show in the background and decide now is a good of a time as any to eat your lunch. You chew slowly and purposefully and watch Ross and Rachel argue about something for the millionth time.

You decide, after the clock strikes 2:47, that being thirteen minutes early won’t hurt. You grab your laptop and walk your way to his office, adjusting your pencil skirt and making sure you haven’t sweat through your white blouse. You make sure there’s no mascara under your eyes and knock very impatiently on the door, until an annoyed voice tells you to come in.

You shoot Jason a too sweet smile and he raises a brow. “You’re thirteen minutes early.” 

“What can I say, I have a good work ethic. You could learn a thing or two.”

Jason scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you left our client in the conference room on his own, and stormed out.”

“I didn’t storm out.”

“Uh, yeah, you did. You look super pissed too.” You sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

You’ve been in Jason’s office a couple of times before, but you let yourself take a proper look at it this time. It’s quite minimalist. You have pictures of your friends and family, and gifts from clients all over the room. But his office is void of most things personal, or just most things at all. 

There’s a few plants on his shelves, and only one picture frame with him and three other guys, one of them quite younger than the rest. Jason’s never mentioned his brothers but then again, you guys don’t really talk.

The one thing that is all over his room is books. You find yourself reading the titles from where you’re sitting, head tilting slightly.

“You alright there?” 

You turn back to him to find him staring at you again. You feel like that’s been happening a lot recently. “Just surprised you could read, is all.”

“Ha ha. Shut up.”

You keep looking at the books. “Hey, you have Agatha Christie’s books. I love her books?”

Jason tilts his head a little. “Really?”

“Yeah! My mum got me into them when I was younger. The ABC murders is my favourite.”

Jason studies you for a moment. “Who knew you knew good literature?”

“I know good everything, Todd. Now what does flirty old Micheal want?” You say, flipping Jason’s laptop around to read what he’s writing.

You laugh a little at the way his face falls. “What is your problem with him?”

“He’s fucking annoying. And every word out of his mouth is a brag, and it’s never even things worth bragging about.” 

“True. He likes to look too. At things he probably shouldn’t be looking at.” You say, eyes still on the laptop.

“What?”

“Yeah, he's kinda leery, but. It’s fine. I’m not going to be around him long, so. I’ll make do.” You shrug.

“It’s not fine. That’s fucking gross.”

Your eyes widen slightly. He seemed so annoyed for you. It was weird. Usually he was just annoyed at you.

“Yeah, well. What am I going to do? This is good business for the firm, and it’s not like he’s going to do anything.” 

Jason scoffs. A prickle of annoyance runs through your body. “You don’t know that.”

“I think I can handle myself.” You frown.

“Sure you can.”

You don’t like the tone in his voice. “You disagree?”

“What? I didn't say anything.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Oh my god. Can we just get this done?”

The two of you work in silence for a few minutes. There’s a weird tension in the room, and you’re more confused than anything else. You can’t tell if Jason was mad at you or at Micheal. You don’t even know why he’s so mad. It’s all very confusing, and the pathetic sandwich you’d bought for your lunch, that you didn’t even finish, has done nothing to ease your hunger.

After about half an hour of silent work, you glance up at Jason. He looks good when he’s focusing like that. It’s unfortunate your brain supplies you with such thoughts, because you are supposed to be mad at him. But he’s biting the inside of his cheek and he looks so good, it cannot be helped.

“You have a real bad staring problem.”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”

You close your laptop quickly, eager to change the subject. “I’m hungry. Can we order food?”

You are almost 100% sure he is well aware you’re trying to do so, but he lets it slide. “We need to work.”

“We can work and eat. We’ll force one of the interns to get us food.” You whisper the last words and he smiles slightly.

“I guess.”

“Great. Thanks for paying.”

“I didn’t-“

“Thanks for paying!”

—-

You’re kind of excited for the meeting with Micheal. Not because of Micheal. Because of Jason.

Yesterday was fun. He did actually pay for the food, and the weird little argument you had about Micheal was forgotten once it had arrived. You’d gotten shawarma sandwiches from the place down the street, the owner a guy who you’d been buying from forever.

It was weird. You don’t think you’d ever have a conversation that’s lasted longer than five minutes with Jason that didn’t end in someone saying something snarky or rude or petty. But it turns out that he’s actually fun to be around, oddly enough. Maybe your hatred was far-fetched.

You’d worn your red blouse today, and the same penciI skirt you wore most days. You wanted to look good today, it’d help you feel good. That’s what you told yourself at least. There’s no other reason you’d want to look good. You walk into conference room B, at 12:45 in the afternoon, fifteen minutes before the meeting. You plug in some headphones and play some solitaire to pass the time.

Then it turns to one, and nobody walks in. Not Jason and not Micheal. You drum your fingers against the desk impatiently. It’s fine one of them being late, but both? Something feels off. 

You get up, heels clicking against the floor as you walk over to Star, the red-head receptionist everybody is obsessed with. She’s kind and bubbly and from abroad, her innocent curiosity about everything in Gotham made her fun to be around. She gives you a beaming smile as you walk over.

“Hi, Star.”

“Hiya! May I be of any assistance?” There’s a little foreign twinge to her accent you’ve never been able to figure out.

“Yeah, actually. Have you seen Jason? We were supposed to be meeting with a client at one but they both haven’t showed.” 

Star looks confused. She blinks big green eyes up at you. “But Jason already had his meeting.”

You freeze. “What?”

“Well, he called me last night and told me to move it to 11:30. And they finished up and left. Jason is in his office.” Star gets quieter as the look on your face gets angrier.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“No! No, you can go ask him.” 

You take a breath in, steeling yourself. “I’m sorry, Star. It’s not you I’m mad at.” 

You can’t believe him. Just when you think he’s different, that he’s not as big of a dick as you’d thought, he pulls some shit like this.

You leave your stuff in the conference room and all but run away to his office. You don’t knock, don’t even announce yourself. You’re sure that the angry click of your heels down the corridors was tell enough you were arriving. The door swings open and Jason is sitting at his desk. He looks up at you, eyes lingering on your body for a second, before he looks back down. He doesn’t say a word.

“You’re just gonna fucking sit there? Not say anything?”

Jason shrugs, leaning back in his chair. Long legs stretch under his desks. “What is it you’d like me to say?”

You frown. “Something? We were supposed to talk to the client together. We planned everything together. And not only did you do it without me, but you changed the date so I wouldn’t even know about it!”

He just looks at you. Those piercing eyes stare right through your soul. 

“Todd, fucking say something!” You yell.

“There’s no need for all the hostility. You can discuss this with me like a mature adult, you know.” 

And his voice is so condescending, and he looks at you with this look on his face that makes you want to throttle him. 

“You are not the mature one here. I mean, changing the times so I would show up to an empty room? That’s middle school shit.” You scoff and he just sighs.

“Look. I meant nothing by it.”

“So you’re a dick and a liar. Very good to know.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Can you calm down?”

You laugh, a hand halting from where it was toying with your hair. “No. I can’t calm down. Because you are so insufferable. And I knew working on this stupid client with you would drive me crazy.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one freaking out over shit that doesn’t matter.” He stands up, and you try not to let his towering height intimidate you.

“It does matter, because it means you don’t respect me and my work. It was a shitty thing to do, Jason. How can’t you see that?”

He scoffs. “That little meeting means that much to you? If you wanted to see Micheal so bad you could I’ve just told me.”

“What- What are you even talking about?” 

Jason just looks angry. He turns away, not replying, and you’ve had enough. You don’t want him to see the hurt on your face so you turn away too.

“God, I actually hate you, Jason. So much.” 

And you storm off. Fully intending to, at least. But the soft way he speaks his next words, so jarring from the yelling only moments ago, stops you with your hand almost at the door.

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t turn when you speak. “And how do you figure that?”

“Because I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

When you finally look back at him, he’s still standing behind his desk, but he seems much more relaxed. Like he’s just figured out something especially difficult, and he smiles.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t think I notice how much you stare at me?”

Your face burns and his smile turns into something much more dangerous. “I- I don’t stare at you.”

“Oh, that stutter is not very convincing. I know you better than that, love.” 

He slowly starts making his way towards you. Very 

 slowly edging around his desk. You back up the small distance remaining between you and the door, to try and assert some dominance. 

“Always staring when you think I’m not looking. And those rare times I do catch you, your face turns that delicious colour it’s turning right now.” He nods. He slowly reaches up and undoes his tie, fingers curling under the knot until it lies flat against his chest.

“You get so worked up when I tease you. Why do you think I do it so much?”

“Because you’re annoying.” You try to sound as rude as you can, but your voice sounds awfully breathy.

Jason slowly undoes the buttons in his cuffs. “Nah, you love it. I can tell. I’m very good at reading people, see. And I’ve been testing you. How well you respond to me.” 

Fucking hell. What is going on right now? You think the logical thing to do is just leave, but Jason is now pulling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, rolling them carefully, and the sight is enough to throw every ounce of logic out the window.

“You wanna know why I didn’t let you in on the meetings? Because Micheal likes you. A lot.”

“I don’t-“

“You should’ve heard the way he spoke about you when you walked out the room.” 

He’s closer now, enough that if you walked three steps forward you’d be touching. 

“Made me punch him in the face. Kick him out the building right there and then. Did you know that?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, hope fluttering in your stomach. “No. I didn’t.”

He just nods again. And his eyes don’t leave you for a second, not even when you shamelessly take in the sight of him in front of you.

“I was jealous, you see. But it was dumb of me to  be jealous because you don’t like him. You like me.”

You scoff, laughing nervously. You shake your head. “No. No, I don’t like you. What-“

“It’s why you’re so mad about the fact you weren’t there. You want me to notice you. You want my attention.” 

And he closes the distance between you two. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach up and touch you, but he doesn’t. His height is so much more obvious this close, and you have to look up to meet his eyes.

“You have it. You always have.” He swallows roughly. 

“So I’m giving you a choice. You can leave right now, and it won’t change anything between us, and we can pretend this never happened.”

You just look at him. You don’t think you could speak if you tried. Not when he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you.

“Or you can stay. And I’ll give you that attention you’ve been begging for.”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

He’s waiting. He’s waiting patiently but you can see the flicker of doubt and rejection growing bigger in his eyes. And you think about how much you hate him, how angry he makes you feel, how much he goes out of his way to tease you, how mad you were literally seconds ago.

And you reach up and kiss him.

It’s hot and heavy and desperate, and you feel like two teenagers hooking up before your parents get home. His hands slide up your waist, your chest, land on your face to pull you closer.

“Knew it, I knew you liked me.” He says between kisses, breathing hard.

“Shut up.” You mumble kissing him harder.

Your lipstick stains his mouth and your stomach turns at the sight. Jason fingers the collar of your blouse, the deep red fabric sliding between his fingers. 

“You know my favourite colour is red?”

“I do now.”  

He smirks into your skin, kissing down to the small triangle of skin showing from your three open buttons. He sucks a mark into your skin and you sigh, hand tangling in his hair. 

“You’re so soft. Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, immediately reaching up to help him unbotton it.

Your shirt falls to the floor as it slides off your back and Jason groans at the sight of you in front of him. You smile slightly, face heating a little at those eyes looking at you so hard. 

“Like what you see?”

He just nods, hands reaching back to fumble with your bra. It brings his face closer and you press a kiss on his lips again, tongue tangling with his. His fingers stutter in their movements, but the bite to his bottom lips spurs him back to action. Your bra joins your shirt, and his hands reach up and cup your chest, calloused hands massaging your skin, thumb brushing against your nipple. You sigh, head leaning back on the door.

You jolt slightly as he pinches one hard, and you glare at him. He just kisses you again. 

“I love when you look at me like that.”

“Masochist.”

“Oh, you don’t even know, baby.”

You pinches your nipple again and swallows your protests in his mouth. Your hands travel against his chest, trying to unbutton his shirt. He stops his ministrations on your breast to grab both your hands in one of his.

“No touching.”

“I’m literally half naked and you’re still fully dressed. This doesn’t feel very fair.”

Jason just grins. “I wanna take my time with you. I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

His words distract you enough that you don’t react immediately when he kneels down, pushing your skirt up past your thighs and bunching it around your waist. He toys with your underwear and your face burns.

“Jason-“

“You need to be quiet, okay?” He reaches up and locks his office door, his eyes focused on something different for once.

“Okay. That’s fine.” You nod frantically, gripping his shoulder for support.

Jason slides your underwear down your legs, lifting up your feet so he can throw them to the side. He hooks one leg over his shoulder and you wonder how mortifying it would be if someone walked in, saw how exposed you were and the pure lust that Jason is looking at you with. He presses a kiss to the side of your leg, travelling up slowly.

“Fucking hell, Jason, come on.” You whine.

He tuts, biting the soft skin on your thigh. “Let me savour this.”

“Savour it faster. I’d have thought you of all-“

And you’re interrupted as Jason licks a stripe up your cunt, tongue dipping in to graze against your clit. You gasp slightly, and it spurs him on, licking deeper and faster, and you’re embarrassed at how wet you sound from just kissing him. But you don’t have much time to be embarrassed because your eyes are fluttering shut as he eats you with a fervour that makes your skin flush.

And of course Jason is the best head you’ve ever had, because of course Jason needs to be the best at everything. He sucks your clit once, twice and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your moans. He grins, bringing his hands up to spread your lips open.

“You like that, huh? Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.” 

He kisses your lips and you sigh, hands tugging at his hair. He groans as you do so, and you’ll remember that little tidbit for later. Your breathing stutters more as he speed ships ministrations, and with each muffled moan and twitch of your hips he draws you closer and closer to finish. And it’s after one more long, exaggerated suck of your clit that you cum, and he drags you through it.

“Oh, such a pretty mess for me.” He groans, and you twitch as his fingers slap your cunt once.

You feel like you might pass out, but when he stands back up you can see yourself glistening on his lips. And when he starts unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a six-pack (you were right before) you think you could go another hundred times. You’re about to slip of your heels but he tells you to keep them on. It’s hotter, apparently.

He pulls you over to his desk and you watch the ripple of muscle in his back. He leans you against his desk. You let your hands trace down his body, muscles and abs stretching beneath your skin. The rush from before feels different now, and you want to savour him too.

“Fuck, you’re so ripped.”

He laughs, nosing the crook of your neck. He licks a stripe against your pulse and you push him away.

“Hey, no marks. Visible ones, at least.” You scold and he rolls his eyes.

He traces lightly over the ones he left earlier. Looking at you fondly. You reach down and unbuckle his belt. You slide it out slowly, placing it on the desk. He just watches you closely.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now.”

You smile bashfully. Your hair is a mess where he’d been tangling it in his hands, your chest covered in marks and your skirt wrinkles from where it’s still bunched at your waist. You’re sure you look a mess, but you appreciate the thought. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Jason’s breathes deeply, and his hold on your waist tightens as you unbutton his trousers. 

“That what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He places your hands at your side. Kisses into your mouth once more, wet and teasing. And when his hand reaches into his boxers you have to stop your mouth from dropping, because, of course he’s as well endowed as he is.

“You like what you see?” He teases and you sigh.

He leans forward until his forehead brushes yours, and he guides himself to your entrance. And just waits. You buck your hips and it pushes him against your clit and you whine.

“Jason. What are you waiting for?”

“Tell me what you want.”

You glare at him. “You know what I want.”

“No, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” 

Your face heats slightly. “I. I want you to fuck me.”

Jason nods. “Again. Without the stutter this time.”

Fucking hell. “I want you to fuck me, Jason. Please, oh please will you- fuck!”

And he presses into you so suddenly, and fills you up in a way that has your mouth open in a silent scream, your head falls on his shoulder, nails digging into his back. He doesn’t move, lets you adjust for a moment, and when he does, he drags deliciously against your walls. He’s so thick, and you moan as he moves faster.

“You’re doing so well. Taking me so well.” He moans into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

The room smells like sweat and sex, and it’s so easy to forget everything when your eyes are screwed shut and he is leaning his arms either side of you, bracing himself on his desk.  

It’s not so easy to forget when someone knocks at his office door. It’s then you remember that you’re actually at work and you are having sex at work in your coworker’s office at work. 

You and Jason immediately freeze, and you think you might die if the two of you get caught.

“Who is it?” 

“It is Star!”

You curse under your breath, leaning your head on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes. I just had some papers to give you. And also Y/N was very angry with you.”

Jason grins down at you. “Really?”

“Yes. Did you speak to her?”

He nods. “Mhm we hashed things out. She understood that I was right, and it was fine.”

You scowl at him. Star tries the door again and he rattles some excuse about how he’s in an online meeting. You then remember the position the two of you are in, and you think a little bit of payback is necessary.

“Yeah, when I finish off we can- fuck.” He groans as you push your hips forward, and he fixes you with a look so dangerous it nearly makes you stop. Nearly.

“Is everything okay?” Star yells.

“Yes! Yes I just- I- I stubbed my toe.” Jason squeezed out.

“Oh. Would you like me to bring some first-aid?”

“Not necessary and I’m really sorry but I need to go. Just leave the papers at the door.”

“Okay. Goodbye!”

He waits a second until he hears her walking away, before he thrusts into you harshly and you gasp.

“You think that’s funny?”

You moan, bracing yourself on his chest. “A-A little.” You grin.

“Yeah?”

And then he lifts you up effortlessly, like you weight nothing, sitting you on his desk. And like this he can reach that spot that only so many men knew even existed, and you have to bite your fist to keep from screaming. And he’s consistent, pumping into you long and hard every time. His brow sweats and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

“You like that?”

You can’t even respond. Just try to keep your noises to a minimum.

“Aw, why are we so quiet now? Where’d all that confidence go?” He drawls, and some tears do fall when his fingers reach down to rub fast circles on your clit.

“Want you to cum for me. And I want you to look at me when you do it. I wanna see.”

And the eye contact is so intimate, and you can’t imagine that just yesterday you were loathing at the thought of him. And when you cum on his fingers his face scrunches as you tighten around him. 

“That’s my good girl. Fuck, so good for me.” He mumbles.

He doesn’t stop though. He still hasn’t finished and you don’t know if you can take it. You tell him as much and he shakes his head.

“You can. I know you can, baby. Because you’re so needy for it. Letting me fuck you in my office at work. Anyone could hear you, could walk in. And see you spread on my desk like this..” He says, his words interrupted by heavy breaths and stutters.

And it’s only a few seconds before you break away from the overstimulation and it feels good again. You nails scratch against his back and kisses your chest, your neck, your face. Whatever he can get his lips on.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Want you to come with me, yeah?”

“Jason, no, I- I can’t.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Cum one more time. I know you got it in you, baby. 

You shake your head but there’s no protests on your lips as his fingers find your clit once more. And its to the sounds of the two of you breathing and moaning and Jason’s whispered praises that you both finish, and he whimpers, and you think you can die happy.

“Baby, you did so well.” He sighs.

He reaches down again. Before you can tell him to really fuck off, you feel the familiar lace of you underwear being slipped around your heels, your feet. He drags them up your leg and he stands you up, and you have to hold onto his arm so you don’t fall. He pulls up your underwear and you wince, the feeling of his cum still inside of you, and he pulls down your skirt and pats your ass.

“Jason. This is gross, how am I gonna work for the next three hours like this?”

“You can go home and shower. Tell them you’re sick.”

“With your cum dripping down my legs?” You drawl.

“Think of it as a little reminder of me on your way.”

—————————————————————————-

ugh jason Todd let’s make OUUTTTTTTTTT. My last jason Todd fic is on like 500 notes!!!!! Thank u sm for the love everyone

If u couldn’t tell I like writing characters in just the everyday life.. I love an alternate universe and I was watching suits and that’s how this fic came to be!

For those new to my account, this is the third NSFW fic I’ve written so plz be nice 😖 I have also never felt the touch of a man so… this is also probably inaccurate

And I also just wanna say thank you so much to every who leaves comments and reposts and likes my stuff. It genuinely means so so much to me that you enjoy the work I put out, because I love writing it!

anyways I hope u all enjoyed 🩷 I am struggling to think of ideas, so now is the best time to leave me some asks!!

[dontbesoweirdkira]

I just imagined if batchild who favored Tim being Bruce bio-child. Damian so jealous and angry because his blood sibling chose Drake over him? This is too personal. Poor Tim will not have peace. I can imagine Damian trying to prove himself to his little sibling.

But the question is, does Damian even really give a flying fuck about this kid? Or does he just hate Tim and wants to destroy any ounce of happiness this boy has? Questions. Questions. Questions. lol.

Idk I love Damian being a little shit,,, he's something a little silly

Yes, Damian will terrorize Tim over this. He has such bad emotional regulation and he doesn't fully understand why he's so angry. He doesn't particularly like children and all their crying and babbling..they're stupid and useless...

But it peeves him so much seeing Tim take on such a prominent older brother role in their life. Tim is tainting the kid, he's not teaching them properly. A child should be held this way, it should be taught this, you need to do this. That is what his mother did to ensure his proper development so it must be right!

I can just imagine Damian cringing at all the baby talk and stupid games Tim plays with them. At first he's such a hate watcher of them. He'll be in the corner of the room, glaring daggers into them. "hmph they're perfect for each other. Dumb and even dumber. Guess which is which..." He snickers in his mind

Then he resorts to insulting Tim and micro-managing him. His baby siblings doesn't need to play with rattles, they need to be doing more intensive activities....Ughh.. They're being so stunned right now.

Then...slowly when no one is watching, he might speak to it. He doesn't get down on the floor with his sibling, he's just looking down at 'em and low-key shit talking. They piss him off so much but still he's at a lost for why?? Why does he seem to care about them and their upbringing so much when he hates them?

It isn't until Tim leaves for a mission or something when Damian *attempts* to hold and play with batchild. The child just looked so pitiful that he felt compelled to entertain them. Batchild starts to unexpectedly grow on him...eventually he starts kind of...loving them...? He feels warm when they smile at him...and an intense passion to protect them...

He's shy about it but Damian is obsessed with that damn baby. He won't try to draw attention to it but that is his baby now.

He can't help but to feel so possessive over them too, he'll cross his arms and huff when someone picks them up...he's stealing them back after five minutess...

But here's where the issue arises, Damian finally is feeling super close with batchild and has created this secret bond that no one else understands. He's done this oath with them in a pillow fort and everything, he's confidently believes that he's the new favorite sibling.

"Okay, Now we will drink this grape juice as we are solidified as true bloods of the Wayne bloodline..."

*intense babbles and clapping*

"Yes, our superior lineage is something to celebrate."

But then Tim comes back and batchild completely forgets about Damian and rushes to Tim. Even refusing to be held by Damian later on. His heart is crushed and to him this is the ultimate betrayal.

If Tim didn't have peace before, he really won't have it now. Like Damian wants to duel over this, it's that serious to him.

The pure venom that Damian spews is so fucked up that I cannot even repeat it. Like Tim is worried for his safety at this point.

Damien would definitely steal batchild out of their crib at night and take them into one of the unused rooms in another wing of the manor. It's fully decorated with tons of things batchild loves, all necessities...even has tons of snacks and a fridge with goodies. Damian is fully prepared to be the sole provider for this baby. lmaoo. He's hiding this kid out there for a good couple of hours before everyone realizes where the two of them are.

Damian is fighting hard to keep from them taking batchild...but is defeated when batchild sees Tim and goes

"Timmy!!" and tries running to him. It's so hilarious. Damian is at his wits end. He's never going to stop though until he's number one. Even if "Timmy" has to go.

Dami is the most un-serious-serious person on the planet.

[teddypines]

Tea Time

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Summary: Family tea time, with chaos and fluff. The Wayne kids being themselves and weird. Fem!reader, around 6 years old.

Note: This took me a few writer blocks but it is done. I also wish you all very happy holidays and a good new years! Words: 1212 (not on purpose).

Art/picture is from Pinterest, is from the webtoon Wayne family adventures.

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Y/N loved tea time, especially when Alfred made the tea for her and she got to dress up and gather all her plushies around her tiny table set for a tea party. But she loved it more when it was tea time with her family. When her brothers and sisters would dress up with her, it always took some convincing with Jason and Damian, and set round the living room with her. Even if Bruce had the time he would join and Alfred always played butler when that happens, Y/N didn’t quite understand that Alfred was the actual butler just yet.

Y/N wore her pink princess dress and a tiara as she set Fleep and Bee up on the couch. She made sure they were secure on the blanket before dashing off to the kitchen. Running past Tim and Cas, they both knew what time it was. So the two of them decided to gather the others so Y/N had more time preparing for tea and helping Alfred. 

“Alfred, Alfred!” Y/N called out as she ran into the kitchen. Big smile on her face when she saw the butler already working on a big pot of tea and a smaller one with coffee, Alfred knew that not everyone in the family liked the taste of tea. Making sure that there would be enough for everyone’s taste. Y/N giggled and made her way to Alfred. “Can I help?" She asked as she held onto the man’s leg, giving the man big puppy eyes as she looked up. “Please!” Alfred could only laugh and nodded his head. “You know where the cake forks and plates are, right?” Y/N nodded her head to Alfred’s question. “Go get them and put them on one of the trays on the island counter.” 

Y/N let Alfred go and went to look for the cake plates and forks. The forks were easy to find since they were with the rest of the cutlery in the big drawer. She grabbed the forks and carried them to the kitchen island, struggling a bit when she climbed the stepping stool. “Alfred? Where are the plates?” She asked just to make sure she was going to look for them in the right place. “Lower left cabinet, Y/N/N.” Alfred answered while making the coffee, pouring hot water over a filter, yes Alfred still makes the coffee by hand. 

With the directions Alfred gave her, Y/N made her way to collect the cake plates. She walked a few times between the kitchen island and the cabinet where the plates were, making sure to not carry too many at the same time. Too scared to drop any of the plates she carried. After a little while Y/N had made sure that all the plates were safely on the tray next to the forks. Not one plate was dropped. This made Alfred really proud of her, making sure Y/N knew that. “You did a very good job, Y/N.” He praised, actually happy that one of Bruce’s children could be gentle with something as little as a few plates and forks. Remembering the times where the boys tried to help him, only to have a messy kitchen by the end of it.

The smile on Y/N’s face made Alfred’s heart melt a bit. “Wanna help me with decorating the cake?” He asked, Knowing the answer before he even asked the question. “Yes!!!” Y/N answered as she jumped up and down out of excitement. And so the two of them made sure the cake was taken out of the oven and was decorated for tea. 

<------------------------------------------------>

Y/N carried the small tray as Alfred carried the big tray with the cake out of the kitchen. Tim and Cas were already in the living room helping with setting up. Damian sat on the couch, mopping with a paper crown on his head. Of course he had to be grumpy about the whole situation. Dick on the other hand just walked over to Y/N to help her, only to be told off. “I can do this myself!” Y/N told Dick as she continued to take careful steps to the coffee table.

Cas laughed when Dick got denied by Y/N. “Aaaw, poor Dickie, even our little sister doesn’t need you anymore.” She teasted, watching as a pout formed on Dick’s face. He didn’t want to be unwanted, especially by his baby sister. Dick quickly focused on something else and started to help Alfred. Cas continued with decorating with Tim and Duke and Barbara got the place settings right.  

“Do I really have to be here right now?” Damian asked, only to get yes from everyone in the room. “Fine, but I'm not doing anything.”

“Like hell you are!” Steph hit Damian on the shoulder before punching him off the couch. “You better come and help me with getting dad from the cave.” She ordered. Taking Damian by the arm and taking him away to help with getting Bruce to join them.

<------------------------------------------>

When Bruce Was up from the batcave, Damian was finally being nice and everyone was settled around the coffee table all dressed up and ready for the party.

Y/N smiled and fixed Her crown. “Ehhem, I thank you awll for coming today. We are here to celebwe… celle…” Y/N stuttered a little around the word before Bruce helped her “Celebrate sweetie,” 

“celebrate the cake that Alfred made for tea time. It's a red velvet With white chocolate and lemon stuff and cream.” Y/N continued as Alfred Poured the tea into the cups. A smile on his face because of the praise Y/N gave his cake. Everyone else happily moved around the cups Alfred handed out. Adding Sugar and or milk where necessary.

“And daddy has The honor of cutting the cake!” Y/N finished before carefully handing over the cake knife to Bruce. Cake cutting was something special in the Wayne household. No one really knew how to do it properly except Alfred, but they didn't want the butler to do everything. So they did roulette or Bruce had to do it. Since Y/N didn’t want roulette or a fight, daddy had to do it.

The cake was cut and put onto plates. Alfred getting the first piece. It was his creation, his work and his love that went into it, so it was only fair.

Jason fixed The crown on his head and licked His lips, ready to devour the cake on his plate. Only he waited too long and Steph took a little bite from Jason's cake. Jason gasped in response. “You cake thief! And You even took the best bite! You bi…” 

“Jason!” Bruce warned his son before grabbing Steph's plate and switched it with Jason's. “You know we don't swear in this household. And you, Steph, we also don't steal from each other's plates.” 

“Sorry dad.” Steph answered as she looked down at her knees. “Sorry Jay.” Jason just nodded his head in acceptance and finally got to have a bite of the cake.

Y/N leaned against Dick and looked up at him. “What was Jay gonna say?” She asked, she was just a bit too curious sometimes. Luckily she hadn't found the bat cave just yet. Dick looked down at Y/N and sighed. “I'll tell you when you're older.”